BACK TO THE FUTURE

by Emily

Chapter Two: The Purple Piano Project

"Maya? Maya? This isn't funny!"

Elizabeth felt like crying. What the hell was going on? She was standing in the middle of a full carpark ― void of people, though ― the sun shining and everything was absolutely dirty. Even the air was clotted with dirt and Elizabeth doubled over in a fierce coughing fit. What happened to the National Air Filters? Did they suddenly vanish like the Lopez-Pierce's house? Where was she? Where the hell was Maya! Elizabeth spun around on the spot, looking around frantically. Her breathing was short; she was sweating, tears freely running down her cheeks. She was trembling as she began to ran, anywhere, as fast as she could to escape, her heart racing. The world was turning upside down. Where the hell was she? What was happening?!

"Hey!" a voice called from nearby, as Elizabeth's head swelled like a balloon ― or felt like it did. "Hey, are you alright?"

Elizabeth stopped and spun to face the voice, and was met with a very familiar face. Her knees gave out and she tumbled to the floor.

Black.

. . . GLEE . . .

Elizabeth groaned as she came to, scrunching her eyes tight against the invasion of light. There was just so much white. For a frightening moment, she thought she was in a hospital and her eyes flew open. Elizabeth shot up on the bed she was lying in and her vision instantly became blurry as someone gently pushed her back down again.

"Careful," the same voice as before said, a smile in his tone. "Don't get up too fast."

Blinking for a moment, Elizabeth finally regained her vision and saw the face. It was the same strong jaw, the same nose, the same eyes. The hair was different though, firmly encased in a mountain of gel instead of lightly styled. His face looked . . . younger, too, like it hadn't been hardened by the trials of life, yet.

"Hi," he smiled, holding out his hand to be shaken, "I'm Blaine Anderson. You are . . . ?"

Elizabeth gaped at her father, "Why didn't you use your full name?" she blurted out, her brain-to-mouth filter momentarily broken.

Blaine seemed amused, "Sorry, I'm Blaine Devon Anderson. You are . . . ?"

"A-A-Ahh . . ."

"Articulate," a high male voice commented dryly. "I'm impressed."

Blaine turned and smiled fondly, "Come on, Kurt. She just had a panic attack; cut her some slack."

"Well, at least I can understand why she had a panic attack. This school is abysmal."

"This is Kurt Hummel," Blaine introduced needlessly, before noticing Elizabeth's gaze flitting between them and adding defensively, "my boyfriend."

Both men ― both boys, because even Oblivious Elizabous could see that they weren't men ― looked at Elizabeth as if waiting for her to judge, to criticise, to yell and insult. Instead she sank back down in her pillow.

"Oh, Aunt Britt," she muttered before saying. "I'm Elizabeth Humm―ing!" She shook her head, laughing nervously. "Uh, ha-ha, Elizabeth Humming."

Kurt raised a delicate eyebrow, before picking up his messenger bag and swinging it over his shoulder, "Well, the girl's awake, and I need to meet Rachel. We're going to carpool to the NYADA mixer tonight."

Blaine nodded, standing up to kiss Kurt on the cheek, "I'll see you at the Lima Bean, then. Knock 'em dead."

With a smile, Kurt left the . . . the nurses office? Yeah, the nurses office. She turned her attention back to Blaine, who was looking at her worriedly.

"What?"

Blaine bit his lip, as if pondering whether to ask a question, and then he asked, "Do you not care?"

"Uh . . . elaborate, please."

"Don't you care," Blaine said again. "About us." Blaine gestured to the door from which Kurt had just left.

Elizabeth shook her head, "No. Why? Should I?" You're my parents, of course I don't.

Blaine laughed, generally laughed, and ducked his head politely to hide his quickly widening smile, "I don't know. I just . . . we don't meet many people like that. Where're you from then, Elizabeth Humming?"

"New York." Again, brain-to-mouth filter. Maintenance required.

"Hmm, you should've told Kurt that. He would have warmed up to you in a second. He's going to move to New York after graduation."

Finally, like a train, it hit Elizabeth, "Graduation? Wait . . ." questioning her own sanity, Elizabeth asked, "what's the date?"

"23rd September, 2011. Why?"

NO! What the hell?! No way could ― but . . . ! Aunt Britt, she―she . . . ARGH!

Elizabeth had seen 'Back to the Future'; her Uncle Cooper had forced her, Ellie-Rose and the Puckerman brothers into having a weekend devoted to old films. The Star Wars trilogies, Footloose, The Hunger Games, Jurassic Park, Jaws, the Harry Potter series. Seriously, some of that stuff was from the 00's. But Elizabeth knew what happened in Back to the Future (and part II and part III). Marty McFly went to his parent's past and changed the course of history, blah, blah, blah . . . there was a space time continuum and a car involved somewhere, Elizabeth couldn't really remember, she'd been texting Maya who was in Chicago at the time. But she also knew that time travel was physically impossible, that the greatest minds on the planet had attempted to invent some sort of system of time travel after Congress denied the bill to install the hover chip in the core of the planet. But then again, this was Brittany S. Lopez-Pierce you were talking about; she was a different kind of genius.

"Uh, thanks, I, uh, forgot."

If Blaine was suspicious he didn't show it as he stood, "Well, now you're alright, I'd better head to class. Lunch will be over soon. Nurse Rye will help you. Bye, Elizabeth."

"Bye, Pa―Blaine. Bye, Blaine."

Elizabeth threw herself back onto the bed, groaning. What was she supposed to do? She shook her head, a vague attempt to clear it.

I need coffee.

"Alright, kid," a larger woman entered, her nametag reading: P. Rye. "You're good, now technically you're trespassing, so get lost."

Bitch! "Uh . . . I can't ― I'm here to enrol!" Hello, repairman? I have a brain-to-mouth filter that needs fixing. "This is McKinley High, isn't it?"

When ― and that was a when not an if ― she got home, Elizabeth was going to thank Auntie Rachel on her knees for persuading her parents to enrol her in acting, dancing and singing from such a young age (it wasn't two months old like Auntie Rachel claimed she had, but it was still good at seven.) Improvising wasn't as easy as it seemed on TV.

Nurse Rye scowled, as if she'd been hoping to kick Elizabeth out herself, "Alright, kid. Go see Figgins."

Who the hell is Figgins?

With a smile in parting, Elizabeth booked it out of the nurse's office and into the empty halls of William McKinley High School. Wow, dad wasn't kidding. This place is a dump, was the first thing that came to her mind when she looked around. The halls were primarily red and white; the place horribly lit with the old fluorescent lights Mr Tinley had told them about in Society and Environment at Stirling Prep. Lockers lined the walls, and Elizabeth scoffed at the combination locks on each one instead of the voice activation locks in her time . . . finally it sank in. She was in the past. 2011, to be exact. Dad's senior year, and Pa's junior one.

Holy shit.

Shaking her head again, Elizabeth took a deep breath and looked at the watch on her wrist. It was perfectly intact and ― it's working! The second hand was diligently ticking around the clock face, the time reading 1:42pm. Elizabeth smiled as twisted the knob on the side of the watch. If I stop it, put it to 1:43, and then start it again, I should go home! Oh, yeah, Mrs Sutton, who's stupid and needs to study now! HA!

Elizabeth held her wrist and braced herself, breathing deep. Tick, tick, tick, tick. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. She checked the watch. 10 seconds. 9 ― 8 ― 7 ― 6 ― 5 ― 4 ― 3 ― 2 ― 1 ― !

Nothing.

Elizabeth opened her eyes and made a very inhumane growl. She was still in McKinley and it was still a dump. Sighing, Elizabeth began to plan in her mind.

Okay, so I can't go back. I need to find Aunt Britt, get her to fix the watch, and find somewhere to stay. But first, I need some coffee.

. . . GLEE . . .

The Lima Bean was a very important place to the Hummel-Anderson's, so it made sense for Elizabeth to indulge in her daily intake of caffeine there. School was still in, so the place wasn't very busy, most of its patron's the elderly and a group of boys in navy blazers and red piping. Being used to the hustle and bustle of New York and the much more crowded nature of Starbucks, Elizabeth felt oddly out of place, but had to admit, it felt nice. The serenity. The smell of a real coffee house.

Elizabeth sat close to the large windows, sunlight streaming through them, as she browsed a phone book that she had borrowed from the Lima Bean. When she asked to borrow one, the barista looked at her strangely, but Elizabeth was used to those looks, so it didn't worry her too much. Turning to 'P' she slid her finger down the columns. There were four Pierce families listed (Elizabeth had to remember that it wasn't Lopez-Pierce yet). One in Westerville, two in Lima Heights and one in North Hills. Now, Elizabeth wasn't a genius, but even she could work out that Westerville was much too far, and she remembered Auntie Tana complaining about the long drive from hers to Aunt Britt's house when Elizabeth, Toronto, Maya and Minerva helped Santana retrieve her things from her abuela's house when she passed.

Before she stood up to return the book, Elizabeth was struck with an idea. She felt around in her pockets (she had enough of them, cargo pants ruled) and emptied their contents onto the table. Her phone had been confiscated by her dad the previous morning, well, the previous morning in the future. The past? Her past their future . . . ? Screw it, she'd think about when she had caffeine to turn on the extra processors in her brain. Elizabeth's purse was in her back pocket ― complete with ID, credit card and around $60 in bills, her iPod (a regrettably new version, much too new for 2011), a tissue, a piece of bubble-gum (or, there was before Elizabeth decided to have it), and an old Broadway ticket stub from Evita.

Re-pocketing her possessions, Elizabeth stood up and left the coffee shop to try to find the right Pierce family, and when she arrived she wasn't sure if she was in North Hills or a Katy Perry music video.

As she paid her taxi driver, she observed her surroundings. All of the houses looked large and spacious in beautiful pastels with bright yellows, pinks and blues creating a sort of train wreck of fluffy feelings deep in ones' chest. The lawns were all emerald green and dotted with those cliché porcelain gnomes that Elizabeth would usually find in one of those retro-corner shops no one ever actually acknowledged. She felt like an old music sensation would pop out in a candy bikini begin singing about girls from the west coast or an animated child begin skipping across the street singing about Cadbury Chocolate.

Or for an alarm to go off, and an atomic bomb to be dropped on the town like in Indiana Jones #4.

Shaking her head (she wasn't in the desert, she was in Ohio, loser) she looked back down at the piece of paper in her hand. 81 Vincent Avenue, North Hills. Pierce Family. Looking up at the house in front of her, Elizabeth could seriously believe that her Aunt Britt lived there.

She sighed and opened the white picket fence gate (Cal-i-fornia girls, we're un-forget-able―), making her way along the small crème coloured path and up the porch steps. As soon as she knocked on the front door it swung open, to reveal a rather tall man. He looked, well . . . Elizabeth wasn't sure of the term, but she thought the best word might be 'hippie'. He was ― just . . . he was a hippie, okay? Elizabeth just couldn't describe him, he was a hippie.

"Hello!" He welcomed with more enthusiasm than necessary.

"Uh, hi, Mr Pierce?" At his smile, Elizabeth continued. "I'm looking for Brittany."

"Oh," Mr Pierce's face fell. "She's at school. I'm sorry."

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Of course she's at school. "Oh, no. It's okay; I'll just come back la―"

"You can wait for her! She'll be back soon!"

"I wouldn't want to intrude."

"Nonsense. Come on in, chickadee!"

Elizabeth gulped as she followed Mr Pierce into the house.

. . . GLEE . . .

"Daddy! I'm home!"

Elizabeth sighed in relief as Brittany's voice carried through the house. Mr Pierce looked up from the album he was showing Elizabeth (they were up to 1984 after beginning at 1972) and told her to go see Brittany. Thanking him briefly, Elizabeth booked it through the house to the front door, where Brittany was standing, attempting to unwrap her WMHS scarf from around her neck, her hand getting caught.

"Oh, humph."

Elizabeth giggled in a way that was embarrassingly girly as she went to help her Aunt Brittany. "There you go."

"Are you an alien?" Was the first thing Brittany said, with an innocent tilt of the head.

"No . . ." Elizabeth shuffled from foot to foot. This was harder than she'd though it'd be. "Can ― can we speak in your room?"

"Sure," Brittany shrugged, leading a total stranger up into her room in her house. A person she had never met before. Okay, so 'Stranger Danger' didn't exist in the past; that was good to know.

Upon entering Brittany's room, Elizabeth, really, wasn't surprised. It just screamed 'Brittany S. Pierce'. Looking around for a moment, before shrugging, she took a seat on the be―

"AH!" Elizabeth screamed jumped off of the bed, falling back onto Brittany's vanity wide eyed. "WHAT THE―!"

Brittany frowned and walked over to where Elizabeth was previously, picking up a fluffy pillow. "Lord Tubbington! You gave the unicorn a fright. Naughty."

There were no words for how confused Elizabeth was. Shaking her head she sat down next to Brittany and ― oh, it wasn't a pillow, it was a cat. That made a bit more sense. "Brittany, I, uh, um . . ."

"You look like a dolphin? Are you a dolphin?"

"Uh, no, I'm human . . ."

"No," Brittany shook her head as if talking to a five year-old. "Dolphins are gay sharks."

"Oh!" Elizabeth smiled in understanding, and then gasped. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no, I'm straight. I'm not gay, I mean, I like guys."

Brittany tilted her head again, making Elizabeth want to take a photograph and put it on one of those websites devoted to cute pictures of baby animals. "But you look like a dolphin. But you're also a unicorn."

Elizabeth laughed nervously, "Yeah . . ."

"I know!" Brittany smile, performing a very small happy dance, proud of herself. "You're a narwhal!"

"A what?"

Brittany seemed incredibly proud, "A narwhal. Dapper Dolphin told me about them when he was helping me with school. He's really smart. But it's like a dolphin and a unicorn had a baby! And―and you're the gay love baby of my unicorn and my dolphin." Brittany's smile faded and Elizabeth was immediately struck with the urge to call PETA on herself. "Narwhal? What's wrong?"

Elizabeth just sat there, gaping at her future aunt and marvelling at the discreet intelligence that was Brittany S. Pierce. "H―How d-did you know?"

"Know what?"

"That I'm―I'm, y'know," she leant forward, whispering her old nickname, "the Klaine Baby."

"Oh!" Brittany mocked Elizabeth's earlier gasp, whether knowingly or unknowingly, Elizabeth wasn't certain. "I dunno," she shrugged, "but Lord Tubbington doesn't like you and he only doesn't like people who outshine him."

The cat hissed in Brittany's arms and Elizabeth eyed it with unreasonable distaste. You bet I outshine you, you demon feline, Elizabeth made a face at Lord Tubbington, who yowled harshly in return.

"Lord Tubbington!" Brittany smacked the feline gently on the head. "That was rude."

Feline-de-Scary growled softly at Elizabeth before hoping off of Brittany's lap and prowling across Elizabeth to jump off of the bed. He stopped on Elizabeth's lap and brushed his furry tail tauntingly across Elizabeth's face, before proceeding on his merry way. She muttered under her breath, cursing the damn cat as she sniffled and wiped her nose, cat fur on her cheeks.

Brittany huffed, "Lord Tubbington, you better not be smoking, again! I thought I took all of your cigarettes."

"Uh . . . yeah―" Elizabeth pursed her lip in thought, finally turning to her future-aunt. "Look, Britt. In the future you made this―" Elizabeth held up her wrist, the ebony leather contrasting with her porcelain skin. "―and it sent me here, but I can't get back. I need you to fix it for me, please, because, ha, it doesn't work." Elizabeth bit her lip, before continuing. "And I also need a place to stay while you fix it and . . . and I need to get into McKinley."

"Easy." Brittany smiled, taking the watch off of Elizabeth's wrist. "The elves in my closet will know what to do. They're really smart. And you can stay with me and it can be me and you and the leprechaun and mommy and daddy. And Tana, 'cause I love Tana."

Elizabeth felt her heart melt at the innocence that plastered her aunt's face. It was so unfair; they didn't deserve all of the crap they receive in the future.

"Yeah, okay, well . . ."

"Come on! Daddy's probably got dinner ready."

The two descended the stairs in silence until they heard the front door open.

"Mommy!" Brittany smile innocently as she ran down the remaining stairs to embrace the woman who had just walked through the door. Mrs Pierce had large blue eyes and flowing blonde hair like Brittany, that just made a person want to wrap her up in a box and take her home. "This is Elizabeth. She's a Narwhal and is going to stay with us like the Leprechaun."

Mrs Pierce nodded enthusiastically, "Okay! Are you going to McKinley with my Britt-Britt?"

"Yes . . ." Elizabeth would be lying if she said wasn't the slightest bit frightened by the Pierce family, but she ploughed on. "But I left all of my papers in the fut―rnace!" Horrible, horrible save, Hummel. "In the furnace back home, y'know, we need to, uh . . . stay warm and all." She laughed nervously.

"Oh, don't you worry, Elizabeth, I'll take care of everything. Actually, I need to talk to Principle Figgins tomorrow; I'm almost certain that an ancient Thunderbird spirit has invaded his office. I could do everything whilst I sterilized his bird statues and you can start on Monday! How great does that sound? Great? Great!"

Brittany smiled even wider, "Thank-you, mommy. Now let's go, we're meeting Tana at the mall!"

Elizabeth wished she had as much energy as the Pierce family ― it would have made finals so much easier. She laughed as mother and daughter walked past her into the kitchen, talking in speedy tones about Lord Tubbington's addictions.

"So," a voice heavily layered in an Irish accent said, and Elizabeth whirled around to see her Uncle Rory standing in the doorway, "you'll be stayin' with Brittany, too?"

Elizabeth smiled, "Yeah. Elizabeth Humming." She held her hand out and they shook hands.

"Nice to meet 'cha. I'm Rory Flanagan."

I know.

. . . GLEE . . .

Elizabeth sighed as she re-read her cover story, absentmindedly doodling incoherent patterns in the margin (that may or may not have been EP + EH-A in a heart).

Name: Elizabeth Judy Humming ― after the wonderful Ms Garland.
Age: 16 (sophomore)
DOB: 4th January 1995
Family: Kurtis Humming (father), Blake Humming (father) ― Elizabeth refused to get rid of her dads.
Best friends: Naya Long; Rose Jones
Bio: Born in Brooklyn, went to Stirling Prep before dads got better jobs in Columbus, Ohio. Didn't want to live in the city, so commute from Lima to Columbus every day and dads away on lawyer-business heaps. Chose McKinley because she'd seen New Directions at Nationals.

It was holed in places, but it would have to do.

. . . GLEE . . .

The weekend passed in a flurry of research for Elizabeth. While Brittany was out with Santana and Rory, Elizabeth sat on the Pierce's back porch swinging chair, Brittany's laptop resting on her knees, trawling through this cool website she found called Wikipedia on information about the year she was in, and the years before it (she couldn't believe that YouTube didn't have the SOPA filters on it, yet. It was great to have the free internet her Pa talked about, instead of the stupid 'Verification Process's.)

Anyway, Elizabeth knew about the major things, like gay marriage being legalized in New York, King William and Queen Catherine's marriage and some really bad dude being killed along with a few natural disasters, but Mrs Schulz seemed to skip over things like pop culture and music and fashion trends during Modern History classes at Stirling. Elizabeth found out ― with great delight ― that shoes were still in fashion (as they had been out of fashion for a few horrid months in 2028, and jelly shoes had been making a comeback recently) and that the woman her dad always went on about, Lady GooGoo (or something), was going strong, along with her pa's favourite, Katy Perry. At least there would be a few artists that Elizabeth knew.

Sadly, though, the hit musical, Prisoner of Life, hadn't been written yet. She'd really wanted to show off her belting abilities with 'Raid on Vina' or 'Wunder'. The Beatles were gone and Michael Jackson and Amy Winehouse were dead. Elizabeth could live with that, as long as Magnet Ignition ― her favourite band ever since she saw them perform live in Central Park ― weren't dead/broken up (the drummer wasn't born yet, and the lead vocalist was a toddler, which Elizabeth found slightly creepy, since she was practically stalking a two year-old and a fetus.)

Finally, when Monday came around, she felt like she was ready to face the world that was 2011.

Like hell she was.

As soon as Santana stopped the car the two cheerleaders in the front almost disappeared on the spot, leaving Rory and Elizabeth to lock the car and make their way into the school alone. Students were buzzing and running all around them, various boys in Lettermen jackets pushing kids out of their way, and Elizabeth swore she saw someone get thrown in a dumpster.

"So, Liz," Rory began in his Irish brogue, Elizabeth had grown quite close to the boy over the weekend, and Rory was happy to have a new American friend, "what brings you to McKinley?"

Elizabeth smiled as she looked up at her Uncle Rory. Since he and Sugar lived in Ireland, Elizabeth didn't see him much, but he was one of her favourite uncles (don't tell Uncle Cooper or Uncle Finn). "My dads' got better job opportunities in Columbus."

"'Dads'?" Rory asked as they entered the halls. "You have two dads?"

Elizabeth ― on instinct ― got defensive, "Yeah, is that a―"

"No! No, no, no, I'm not a homophobe. My friend Finn, his brother Kurt's gay. Actually, there he is now. Kurt!"

Elizabeth's head jerked up as Kurt turned at the sound of his name. He smiled at Rory, but his smile faded slightly when he noticed Elizabeth, the pair walking towards him. Seemingly swallowing his discontent, Kurt eyed Elizabeth.

"Hey," Elizabeth breathed, her smile frozen on her face as she stared at her father. God, he looked so young. It was unexplainably strange, being the same age as her fathers. They were in high school for God's sake! But Kurt really hadn't changed to Elizabeth, the major features being only that he wasn't as tall, and his clothes were much more extravagant.

The Hummel-Andersons weren't exactly broke, but they weren't exactly rolling in money, either. With Blaine's small teaching wage, and Kurt's horribly paid internship with People! Magazine, Kurt couldn't afford his new season Alexander McQueen sweaters, or the Louis Vuitton handbag Elizabeth saw on 5th Avenue and instantly loved.

"Hello, Rory. Elizabeth."

Rory smiled, seemingly oblivious to Kurt's coldness towards the girl next to him. Elizabeth held back a scoff at the irony; her own teenage dad didn't like teenage her, go figure. Beside her, Rory was talking animatedly to Kurt ― complete with wild hand gestures ― but only then seemed to notice Kurt wasn't speaking or at least pretending to listen.

"Uh, Kurt?" Rory asked, tilting his head. "Is something wrong?"

"No, Rory, everything's fine."

"Oh, well. That's good, Kurt, but I need to go and hand in an assignment to Ms Cramar. Ma won't be happy if I don't make the most of the American educa―"

"Bye then, Rory."

"Bye! See ya', Lizzie." Rory smiled as he turned to navigate the halls, attempting to find English classroom 4. There was an awkward silence between the two, then, as Kurt turned back to his locker, taking down tacked on pictures of the New York City skyline and various theatres along the Great White Way. As Kurt took down a picture of the Gershwin Theatre, Elizabeth felt obligated to speak up.

"The seats are blue, y'know."

Kurt turned to her curiously, "I know. I went there last year with the glee club." He looked at her, his face clearly saying: why are you talking to me? What's your angle, Prada princess? Or, something like that.

"Beautiful stage, the Gershwin," Elizabeth sighed fondly, leaning against Kurt's neighbouring locker. "Although, I must be honest, I do prefer RENT over Wicked. Even if the Gershwin's bigger than the Nederlander. Seems . . . cosier. Better than the Majestic with all of the spooky Phantom décor, anyhow."

Kurt hmm'ed in a façade of disinterest, "So you visit New York often, then?"

Elizabeth smiled, this is gonna be fun! "No, my dads and I just moved her from Brooklyn. We'd always go see shows on Broadway."

"'Dads'?" Kurt's head jerked to Elizabeth; he was clearly wondering if she was pulling his leg. "As in two gay dads?"

"Yeah," Elizabeth shrugged, her lip twitching. God, she shouldn't be having this much fun. "Do you have a problem with that?"

Kurt scoffed, "No. Are you blind? I practically scream: je suis homosexuelle."

"Je n'aime pas juger," Elizabeth replied ,slightly choppily, as the words stumbled from her lips, unlike Kurt's smooth fluency.

Kurt let out an amused huff, as if he was incapable of producing a full laugh, "Vous devez travailler sur votre accent."

"I'm not that fluent."

"I said," Kurt smiled "that your accent needs some work."

Elizabeth shrugged, "French is a hard language."

Slowly, Kurt shut his locker and turned to Elizabeth. "You like Broadway―" she nodded "―you used to live in New York―" another nod "―you have gay parents―" ("Yup") "―and you speak French."

There was a short silence between the two, before the entire atmosphere shifted and Kurt took Elizabeth's arm, "You and I are going to be great friends, Miss Humming." Elizabeth giggled and flushed because this was her dad and they were friends as she and Kurt proceeded down the hallway. "Now which homeroom are you in and what subjects do you take? I swear if you take AP Physics or something, this friendship will immediately be terminated."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, "No, nothing like that. I don't want my brain imploding in high school. That's for junior college."

It turned out that Kurt and Elizabeth weren't in the same homeroom, but ― Kurt told her ― his friends Puck, Mercedes and Tina were in hers. Elizabeth's heart did a miniature acrobatics routine (8.6 her brain awarded its fellow organ) as Kurt bid her goodbye. As he turned down another hall, though, he stopped and asked Elizabeth. "Do you want to sit with my friends and me at lunch? It's sort of social suicide, but you seem like you'll fit in with us Gleeks."

Elizabeth smiled, "Sure!" as Kurt waved and stepped into a classroom. Fist pumping the air in triumph, Elizabeth proceeded down the next hall and turned left, following Kurt's instructions. She felt like jumping for joy. Not even ten minutes into the day and she'd already become friends with her dad and been welcomed into the New Directions' table. It was a great day for Elizabeth's inner schemer.

As she entered the second classroom on her right, she was immediately struck by a scrunched up ball of paper, hitting her right between the eyes. A group of boys (all jocks, Elizabeth noted with distaste) all laughed and made general unnecessary noise as she walked up to the teacher and handed him her papers. Mr McManus ― an aging, slightly pudgy man with watery blue eyes and receding brown hair ― glanced up at her, then at the papers and grinned in what was seemingly meant to be a welcoming manner. Except he had a missing front tooth and the one next to the space glinted gold.

Okay, that was freaky.

"Class," Mr McManus addressed, standing, "we have a new― class!"

No one paid any mind to the teacher, who scowled, huffing. "CLASS!"

Nope.

One of the students in the back rolled his eyes, took a heavy textbook from another person's bag and dropped it soundly against the floor, the proceeding BANG! gaining the students' attention.

"Thank you, Mr Puckerman," Mr McManus nodded towards the boy, and Elizabeth held back a gasp at her Uncle Noah. Was he still known as 'Puck'? And then, what the hell is on his head? "Now, class. We have a new transfer student with us today. This is Elizabeth Humming from Stirling Preparatory in New York City. Please make her feel welcome throughout the school day."

All eyes were on Elizabeth as she shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot at the front of the classroom, before she moved down the aisles of chairs to find a seat close to her future family. She felt like praying to the gods of classroom seating as she pulled out as chair behind a desk that was right next to the young version of her Aunt Cedes.

Aunt Ce― Mercedes turned to Elizabeth, smiled, and then turned back to Tina ― whom Elizabeth then soon noticed ― as the entire class immediately began talking and moving again, Mr McManus forgotten as he sighed and sat back down, filing away Elizabeth's papers.

"Um . . ." Elizabeth leant over to awkwardly poke Mercedes arm, the dark-skinned girl turning her head lazily to help the new kid. Best play it safe, Hummel-Anderson. "Hey, are you Mercedes Jones?" No, she's Uncle Finn, you idiot.

That caught Mercedes' attention. Both Tina and Mercedes moved to look at Elizabeth, Mercedes observing her outfit with slight displeasure ― how you could go wrong with cargos and Converse, Elizabeth would never know. "Yes I am."

Elizabeth blushed slightly, embarrassed. "Uh, Kurt told me I could speak to you about finding my way a-around?"

At the sound of their favourite gay, both girls' demeanour quickly brightened.

"Sure," Tina smiled (everyone's smiling today, Elizabeth noticed, smiling). "When'd you see Kurt?"

"Oh, we kind of hand a little bonding moment at his locker over the Big Apple and the Great White Way."

Both girls shared a look, before leaving closer to Elizabeth, Tina actually moving her entire chair to Elizabeth's desk, a move that would have merited an infringement at Stirling. "Can you sing?"

Someone scoffed behind them, and the girl's turned to see Noah standing there, his bag on her shoulder. Elizabeth hadn't realised that the bell had rung for the next period. "Don't poach the new kid for glee, yet."

Elizabeth answered before Mercedes or Tina could retort, "I wouldn't want to invade, anyhow. You New Directions are probably really close and I wouldn't want to hold you back. I reckon you should have won Nationals instead of that Singaz Wid Attitude female a Capella group. You were miles better than Vocal Adrenaline, too."

All three stared at her, and Elizabeth was sure ― if this was a cartoon ― that their jaws would be on the floor.

She shrugged, "I saw you at Nationals―" On the internet "―next class, now."

Elizabeth bit down on her lips to hold in her laughter as she strolled out of the classroom, leaving the two stunned girls in her wake.

Yeah, she really shouldn't have been having that much fun.

. . . GLEE . . .

The McKinley High cafeteria was the worst eating establishment Elizabeth had ever seen. And she'd been to Burger King.

The tables were all over the place, some areas occupied with rectangular tables and some with circular, but all with marks and stains that made Elizabeth wonder what had to be in the McKinley food to cause stains like that. Looking at them she felt like Robert Langdon trying to decipher the lunch room codes of Lima. The queues for the food were horrendously long and complicated, most kids not even bothering to pay, just taking their food and running. And the food itself looked like it was just flavoured plastic (which ― in reality ― it probably was).

Picking up a slightly soggy salad, Elizabeth took her tray and began surveying the cafeteria, looking for the 'Gleeks' (in her head she could hear her dad's voice: Elizabeth Carole Hummel-Anderson, you turn around and pay for that right now.) She ignored Kurt's voice as she spotted Auntie Tina's streaked hair. Grinning to herself, Elizabeth began to make her way over to―

Holy shit, is that Aunt Quinn?

Elizabeth's jaw dropped. It is! Her Aunt Quinn sported cropped pink-dyed hair, piercings adorning her ears and face and her clothes just reeked of cigarette smoke.

"Lizzie," Aunt Quinn said, the fourteen year-old Elizabeth looking up lazily at her, Vogue Paris in her hands as she attempted to translate it to English (and failing incredibly, so she had begun to just look at the pictures.) "Are you still dating that Liam boy?"

"Yup," said Elizabeth, "why?"

Quinn frowned slightly, "I don't like him. He's . . . I don't like him."

Elizabeth shrugged, flipping a page in the magazine, looking at an ad for Clé de Peau BEAUTÉ. "What's wrong with him?"

"I saw him yesterday with green hair. And he always reeks of smoke, it's horrible."

Aunt Quinn? Take your own advice. Elizabeth stared after the rosy-headed girl as she― that so was not Ryan Seacrest. Quinn turned her head and noticed Elizabeth gaze. She glared in a way that said "Got a problem?" before stalking out of the cafeteria, another skanky girl following her. Shaking her head, Elizabeth made her way towards Tina and the other glee kids, still staring at the back of Aunt (stop saying 'aunt') Quinn's head. Weaving around the tables and students with an inexperienced lumber, Elizabeth managed to get to the correct table without walking into someone or tripping on an outstretched foot. Sitting around the table were eight teenagers.

Elizabeth's couldn't breathe.

They were so young.

Suddenly, it hit the time traveller that these New Directions weren't her New Directions. This Rachel hadn't been rejected for the role of Fanny Brice in Funny Girl; this Tina didn't work 9 to 5, six days a week; this Mercedes wasn't struggling with her career in LA; this Rory wasn't stuck with the burden of his pa's indebt estate in Ireland; this Santana wasn't working on the streets to support her family.

This Blaine didn't walk out on a husband and a barely walking daughter.

This Kurt didn't drop out of NYU.

This couple didn't fight every fortnight over their two children.

This couple didn't have a divorce brewing.

"Hi!" Mercedes looked up at Elizabeth, who was being an idiot and still standing above them, staring. "It was Elizabeth wasn't it? Elizabeth Hummel— sorry, Humming. He's Hummel," she laughed as she jabbed her thumb in Kurt's direction.

Elizabeth forced a laugh like the socially awkward person she was. "Ha, ha, uh . . . yeah. Um, c-can I . . . ?" She gestured with her tray to the table. Shrugging, Mercedes moved to open a space for Elizabeth. She tried her hardest not to openly stare at any of them. Elizabeth took the new space, frowning slightly as she found herself next to Rory and Rachel, not Kurt or Blaine.

"And who are you?"

Elizabeth turned her head to the petite brunette next to her. Rachel Berry was every bit as fierce as she was in the future as she surveyed Elizabeth with a mix of suspicion, curiosity and confusion as to why a person not in glee was sitting at their table. Tina shook her head.

"Rachel," the oriental girl said, "this is Elizabeth."

"Fresh meat."

The nine people at the table all turned to see the other four glee boys standing there, Puck and Artie still sweaty from football training. Mike immediately moved to sit next to Tina (Santana huffing as Brittany told her to make room) and Finn did the same to Rachel, before he noticed a person he'd never seen before sitting in his usual spot next to Rachel.

"Uh, hi? Who're you?" Finn asked, Elizabeth dutifully moving for her uncle.

"I'm—"

"Elizabeth Humming," Rachel answered for her in a tone that said to the occupants of the table 'stop and listen'. "From what I've heard around school—" ("From what I just told her," Kurt muttered in Blaine's ear, the latter stifling his laugh as Finn shot him a look Elizabeth was very uncomfortable with) "—you've just transferred here from New York. You have two gay dads just like your most talented peer and your hobbies include, but are not limited to, travel, singing and linguistics. I would personally like to welcome you to the New Directions and I encourage you to ask the others on the best techniques to maximum stage achievement whilst swaying behind me."

"Uh . . . thank you?"

"You're very much welcome, Elizabeth. You know, I also have two gay dads. It's so incredibly hard for a same-sex couple to raise a family in a state like Ohio, so why are you here? What in your right mind would possess you to leave the wondrousness that is New York City?"

Santana glared at Rachel with a tilt of her head, a pink nail file in her hands, "Y'know, Yentl has a point. What are you doing in this cow town?"

Elizabeth shrugged, attempting to swallow some form of food with everyone's gazes on her as she recited her practiced speech, "My dads got a better job opportunity in Columbus, but they didn't want to keep raising me in a city, so we moved to Lima and they commute most days if they're not out of the country."

Mike whistled, "Nice."

"Must be loaded, then," Puck smiled, leaning over Mercedes to say, "if you ever need—"

"I've got a boyfriend," Elizabeth confirmed, feeling disappointed. Well, I would have a boyfriend if your son got his stupid ass into action and got the guts to ask me out! Emmett Puckerman, I expect a freaking blimp when you ask me out.

Puck shrugged, "I tried."

"Trying a long distance relationship?" Artie asked. "Isn't that hard with all the NYC chicks?"

Kurt rolled his eyes at his friends as he took a bite out of some chicken in his salad, thankfully changing the subject, "So, are you trying out for the glee club?"

If everyone's attention hadn't been on her before, it now was. Everyone looked at her, waiting on their toes to hear her answer, also thankful that Kurt had bought up the giant elephant at the table.

Elizabeth looked at them in amusement before she ducked her head, blushing under their gazes, "Y-Yeah, I will be."

. . . GLEE . . .

Ever since this whole world began
A woman found out if she shook it, she could shake up a man
And so I'm gonna shake and shimmy it the best that I can today
'Cause you can't stop the motion of the ocean or the sun in the sky
You can wonder if you wanna, but I'll never ask why
And if you try to hold me down, I'm gonna spit in your eye and say
That You Can't Stop the Beat!

Elizabeth rested her chin on her hands, leaning against the armrest, smiling like a maniac. She was half-laughing, half-smiling to death as she watched the New Directions sing Hairspray's 'You Can't Stop The Beat'.

If you'd asked Elizabeth later about the choreography she wouldn't have been able to tell you anything; she was just shaking her head and laughing. They were having fun, just easy, plain 'ole fun. And it was intoxicating; the smiles on each of the member's faces as they danced around each other, enjoying the music.

She'd admit to being slightly envious. What she would give to just get up there and join them, but that would be weird. Even though she was a weird person, that was just mucho-grandé weird. Elizabeth half applauded at Aunt Britt and Uncle Mike showed their moves as Aunt Cedes stepped out onto centre stage.You can't stop today (No!)
As it comes speeding 'round the track (oooh, child yes!)
Yesterday is hist'ry (be gone!)
And it's never comin' back! (Look ahead, cause...)
Tomorrow is a brand new day, and it don't know white from black (Yeah!)

Elizabeth was allowed to mouth along to the words and grove in her seat, thank-you very much.

'Cause the world keeps spinnin' round and round
And my heart's keepin' time to the speed of sound
I was lost 'til I heard the drums, then I found my way
'Cause you can't stop the beat!

Aah, aah, aah,
Ahh, ahh, ahh
Ahh, ahh, ahh ahh

Smelling the slight scent of smoke, Elizabeth looked up at the small ball of light. Aunt Quinn stood up on a balcony, overlooking the performance. It took all of the time traveller's restraint not to yell 'If you wanna be with them, get your ass down there!'. That wouldn't come off too well.Ever since we first saw the light
A man and woman like to shake it on a Saturday night
But now we're gonna shake and shimmy it and have some fun today!
Cause you can't stop the Motion of the ocean or the rain from above
You can try to stop the paradise were dreamin' of
But you cannot stop the rhythm of two hearts in love to stay!
Cause you can't stop the beat!
You can't stop the beat
You can't stop the beat
You can't stop the beat!

There was a moment of silence in the April Rhodes Civil Pavillion before Elizabeth leapt to her feet, giving the best single-person standing ovation she could muster. The New Directions all began smiling and laughing, applauding each other and hugging, smiles threatening to burst with happiness and pride.

Rachel turned to face Elizabeth in the audience, the young star beaming. "Well?"

Everyone turned to watch Elizabeth, gaging her reaction. Elizabeth grinned.

"Amazing."

Like it? Hate it? Review it!

I've had this lying around for ages and oops...

~Emily