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Chapter Text

The first time Quinn kissed Rachel Berry was in third grade. She had fallen off the monkey bars and started crying. A tiny brunette nearby saw and ran over to console her. This girl was so sweet and reassuring, bubbling over with promises that everything would be alright. As Quinn watched in disbelief, the brunette pressed a small finger to her lips before touching it to her elbow where Quinn had banged it then repeated the same action for every other place she had injured herself. When the girl was done, she looked at her with big brown eyes and flashed one of the most brilliant smiles Quinn had ever seen. A real one. Not at all like the fake ones her mother had when company came over after she'd just had a bad fight with her father.

"Better?" she asked shyly.

So taken aback by the rare kindness this girl had shown her, kindness she was so unaccustomed to, Quinn couldn't help herself. When she realized what she did, she punched Rachel in the nose and ran away.

The second time she kissed Rachel Berry was after the diva had outed Quinn's secret to Finn about Puck being the father. Rachel apologized, offered the chance to punch her again, "just not the nose", but she just sent her away. After school when she was walking through the parking lot to her car, Rachel ran up to her to apologize again. Quinn's mouth silenced her and this time she didn't punch her after.

The third time she kissed Rachel Berry was after Finn had broken up with her in the hallway for everyone to see, including Quinn. She found the crying girl in the auditorium, hiding in the wings.

After that, she stopped keeping track.

It's not like she really wanted to admit why she would ever kiss Rachel. At least not out loud. It became a mental block in her head. She was quite good at that. She'd had experience after all - it was the only way she made it through a day without being plagued by thoughts of the child she had lost.

But she couldn't get herself to stop kissing Rachel either. With each one, the desire for more increased exponentially. After the auditorium, Quinn realized that she was actually craving Rachel Berry. And this had nothing to do with baby hormones (as she had excused the last time).

Okay, fine, so she wasn't thinking about it, but she sure as hell was doing it.

Quinn avoided her for a few days after that, focused on spending time with Sam, which only made it worse because her boyfriend was just a constant reminder of what she didn't want. Rachel would avert her eyes when they passed in the hallway and did everything she could to avoid her in Glee. At first Quinn thought that would be a good thing, but then she realized how much it actually hurt to see the other girl turn away.

If she wanted to kiss Rachel, then she'd damn well get what she wanted. She was Quinn Fabray and the Fabrays always got what they wanted. It didn't matter why or how or anything else.

This was just a phase really. She just needed to get the girl out of her system. That's what it was. The sooner the better and then she could get her life back on track.

With that in mind, she pursued any chance she had of getting Rachel alone and used it to her full advantage.

What Quinn had never forgotten, could never forget, the only thing that truly managed to escape her mental block, was that in all those kisses, even back in third grade, Rachel had always kissed her back.

Chapter Text

Rachel was striving valiantly to finish her homework, but her attention was determined to wander. It was a Friday night though; she really didn't need to be doing it right this second, did she? Well, it wasn't like she had any better plans. Even her fathers were engaging in a more active social life than she was right now, at their friend's house for the evening.

When her attention wandered, it usually went to making plans for when she left Lima for New York, or adding to her extensive song list that would make for spectacular performances in Glee club, or finding ways to keep Mr. Schuester from ruining her life, or even about the either hurtful/kind comment Finn had made that day - those bounced back and forth more than a ping pong ball.

Lately though, it always wandered to just one person, one very beautiful, blonde, at times frightening, person. Rachel never knew what to make of her relationship with Quinn Fabray. 99.9% of the time she was certain that girl hated her with every fiber of her being, but then she would do something that shook Rachel to the core. She would kiss her. Afterwards, it was as if it never happened and they went back to the normal hatred/torment.

But after Finn had broken up with her for the terribly thoughtless mistake she had made with Noah, things were different somehow. Quinn didn't go back to the 99.9%. Instead it was more like 30% and that was only around Santana and the others. And it wasn't just one kiss now; it was a lot of them, to the point where if Rachel found herself alone, she half expected Quinn to jump her from some shadowed corner. Yet, in all the kisses they shared, sometimes passionate and brutal, sometimes unaccountably sweet, sometimes lazy, sometimes chaste and reassuring, they never spoke about it. Quinn would leave as soon as they broke apart, never giving Rachel the chance to say anything.

And she had no idea what to make of it.

What really mattered, though, was why she continued to let the girl do it. Why did she always let Quinn kiss her? Why did she always kiss her back? How was it possible that this girl, Quinn Fabray of all people, was able to make her feel these things? How did Quinn manage to set her body on fire in a way that even her most heated and intimate of make out sessions with previous boyfriends never achieved?

Rachel always knew she harbored some attraction to women, but it never seemed enough to make her question her sexuality further. Quinn changed all that. After their second kiss in the parking lot, Rachel was pretty sure she was at least bisexual. After she had found her in the auditorium, Rachel knew for certain she was gay, with a somewhat mild attraction to boys.

At least, she was certainly gay for Quinn Fabray.

But the way the blonde seemed to want things between them was frustrating as all get out. She couldn't get a word in edgewise before Quinn vanished, always leaving her shaky and breathless. Rachel was terrified that if she actually did manage the chance to speak one of these days, Quinn would stop.

And she couldn't bear that.

Quinn's actions made it very clear that she considered this a purely physical arrangement and was in no way interested in pursuing anything further with Rachel. So it was either take what she could get, and that was some of the most mind-blowing kisses she had ever experienced, or end it and return to their previous ways where Quinn made a point to cut her down at every turn, essentially making her life at McKinley High a living hell.

Well, she was going to take what she could get, with the slim hope that someday Quinn would be more receptive to opening up their…this…to something more.

Good lord, this could not actually be happening. She wanted more? She wanted… This wasn't happening! She was actually falling for Quinn Fabray. If she were in her right mind, she would be laughing her head off at even the mere idea of such lunacy. As it was…she was not in her right mind and this was all likely to turn out to be some oddly linear, realistic dream she was having.

Licking her lips, Rachel recalled their most recent encounter earlier that day in the choir room after everyone had left. She had stayed behind to collect some sheet music when Quinn whirled her around and pinned her against the piano. Rachel hadn't even realized how far they were going until some random shouts from students passing by broke them out of the haze. She gulped as Quinn's hand came out from underneath her skirt. How had she let that happen? Finn had never even gotten anywhere remotely near that level of intimacy and suddenly Quinn was making her lose all sense?

As always, the blonde removed herself and took off without a word. Rachel had to sit on the piano bench for several minutes just to recover.

Just thinking about it now had her feeling flushed all over, just as she had been in the choir room. Rachel could swear she still tasted her.

The doorbell rang, shaking her from her reverie, and she frowned. Who would be showing up at her house at this hour? She looked at the clock. It was 10PM! Only takeout deliverymen and axe murderers would be arriving at this hour.

Not caring that she was in her pajamas, she padded downstairs. First, she peeked through the side window, just to be sure, and saw who was there. Eyes wide as saucers, she threw the door open, feeling like she'd just gotten the wind knocked out of her.

Quinn was standing on her doorstep ever still in her ever-present Cheerios uniform, hair pulled back into a flawless high ponytail, with a gym bag thrown over her shoulder, and an almost bored expression.

"Are your Dads home?"

Rachel was too stunned to answer, merely gaping.

Sighing impatiently, she shifted, and repeated the question.

"N-no," Rachel managed to stammer. "Quinn, what are yo-"

But the cheerleader just pushed her back into the house, kicking the door closed behind them.

"We're having a sleepover," she informed her curtly. "Where's your room?"

"Sleepover?" Rachel squeaked. "We are not-!"

She didn't get to finish because Quinn was already halfway up the stairs in search of Rachel's bedroom, forcing her to follow.

Oh, now this was just going too far! Rachel wasn't about to let that girl bully her way into her own home and demand…whatever she was demanding! No! She was putting her foot down.

Storming into her room, which Quinn had undoubtedly discovered thanks to the big pink door with gold stars bordering it, Rachel opened her mouth to give her a stern talking to as to how this…acquaintanceship…was going to have to have certain rules placed upon it and Quinn was going to listen now whether she liked it or not!

But Quinn wasn't there. Bewildered, Rachel saw her bag on the floor, so she knew she had at least been in there… The door shut behind her and she whirled around. Soft lips attacked hers hungrily and she responded purely out of instinct.

That whole 'stern talking to' speech flew right out of her mind.

Quinn kissed her fiercely, holding Rachel so their bodies were flush against each other. She moaned helplessly into her mouth as she felt the other girl pressed against her. Rachel felt the air sucked out of her lungs. It was so forceful, so bruising; it was almost too much.

Then it changed.

Just when she thought she wouldn't be able to handle the intensity with which the blonde had come after her…Quinn slowed. The kiss morphed. It became different from what they had shared before, in any previous encounter. There had always been some sort of purpose behind it, a need to prove something, a desire to be met, but as Quinn kissed her slowly, languidly, their tongues meeting in such a lazy, stroking fashion, it was like she was licking the fire in her belly to life.

This time it felt like Quinn was kissing her just to kiss her. That proved to elicit a more explosive reaction than anything else she had experienced. Rachel could feel herself melting into the other girl's embrace, holding on desperately now as she couldn't fathom standing on her own. Quinn sucked on her bottom lip gently before delving further into the recesses of her mouth. A startling warmth curled through Rachel's body so fast, her hands seized fistfuls of silky soft blonde hair.

Quinn took her hair down?

That was the only thought that registered because by then she found herself falling over the edge of her bed with another's weight stretched out on top of her. That is until…

God, that feels so good…

Quinn buried her face in her neck, leaving hot open-mouthed kisses down it until she reached a certain special spot that caused Rachel to gasp and squeeze the other girl's hips between her thighs.

"There, hm?" she said in a low, throaty chuckle and Rachel almost lost it altogether.

It didn't escape her that, starting with the door, this was the most Quinn had spoken to her in months.

She tugged the blonde back to her mouth. Quinn shifted on top of her and all of a sudden there was a firm thigh pressed between her legs. Rachel yelped into her mouth in surprise at all the new sensations it brought.

She knew this was wrong, she knew she should be stopping her, forcing them to talk about this, but all she could think about was how badly she wanted to touch Quinn.

The other girl seemed to have a similar line of thought as her hands dragged down Rachel's sides before sliding under her pajama top to make contact with her bare skin. As Quinn's elegant fingers swept over her stomach, Rachel knew this was going to go too far. How was she going to stop herself when her body was begging for it with everything it had?

Now that Quinn's hands had grown bolder, so had Rachel's. Breathing hard, heart hammering against her ribcage, she yanked on the Cheerios top hard, and with Quinn's help, it was disposed of in seconds. Rachel felt the wetness pooling between her thighs at the sight of Quinn Fabray in her athletic bra. It wasn't lacy. It wasn't designed for sex appeal. It was a bright red that matched her uniform and it was the sexiest thing Rachel had ever seen. Her pale, perfect breasts heaved with every ragged breath and it wasn't until she heard Quinn moan that Rachel realized she had flipped them over, her mouth and tongue laving over the exposed flesh with greedy abandon. She used her fingers to toy with the straining, hard nipples that poked through the fabric.

Quinn was letting her touch her! Quinn was enjoying letting her touch her!

The realization hit her so hard that Rachel paused for the slightest second. It was all the blonde needed to regain control again as she rolled them back over, thrusting her hips against the other girl.

Quinn's hands were everywhere. Quinn's mouth was everywhere. Oh, God! That was her tongue!

Warning bells like never before were going off in Rachel's head through the lust induced fog.

W-when had she taken off her own top?

Quinn's warm mouth covered one of her nipples, swirling her tongue round, before sucking lightly. Rachel whimpered, involuntarily grinding down on Quinn's flexed thigh between her legs. A tight, delicious feeling was coiling low in her belly as Quinn switched to the other side. It was building so quickly and her body was demanding release.

It felt so good, she didn't want it to stop, but oh God! She wasn't ready for this! It was too much! Too soon!

"Q-Quinn, stop!" she managed to stutter out in a panic.

Either the blonde didn't hear her or didn't listen, because she rubbed her thigh against Rachel's aching core and palmed her breasts before taking her mouth back again.

For a split second, Rachel considered just giving in to this, but no! She wouldn't let it be this way, not her first time, not like this, no matter how good it felt.

With a grunt of effort, she pushed Quinn off her and stumbled off the bed.

"I can't do this! I can't. I'm not…"

Her nakedness only added to her embarrassment. Keeping her back to her, Rachel covered her exposed chest with her arms as best she could, and tried to hold back the tears.

"Quinn you must understand that while I am undeniably attracted to you and very much enjoy our explorations of a sexual nature, I am not prepared in the least to be this intimate with you. You can't just barge in here like that and demand such things of me. I was okay with you using me when we stayed within set boundaries that I was comfortable with because I obviously received pleasure from it as well, but I won't allow you to use me like this. I'm not ready and I won't have you push me into it."

There…she'd made the right decision, but she was going to lose Quinn for it. There was no way the other girl was ever going to come within ten feet of her now. She'd broken the rules. She'd talked. She'd refused her advances. Rachel was in for hell to come, since Quinn would undoubtedly revert to her former ways with a renewed vengeance.

"I understand that you would very much like to leave now as I am obviously not going to allow you to achieve your previously set goal. So just go. You don't have to worry about me telling anyone, so you needn't bother with any heavy handed threats. This is between us. Just like always. So you can go now, okay?"

She waited, her body rigid with anxiety, as she heard some rustling noises behind her. Quinn had taken her advice and was getting her things together to leave without a word, as she always did.

Rachel decided to give her more time than necessary before turning around, because she really couldn't bring herself to look back and see the room empty once more. It was going to break her heart. The door closed and Rachel shut her eyes tightly, tears leaking out in spite of herself, and she stifled a sob.

Then she heard water running.

Turning around in confusion, she saw that her room was indeed empty, but Quinn's bag was still on the floor, as was her cheerleader top. Surely she hadn't been so pissed off that she stormed out without her things? She was topless for goodness sake!

The running water was coming from her bathroom, Rachel realized, seeing that the door was closed.

With a groan, she realized she had to wait for an even more uncomfortable departure as the blonde had not taken the easy out Rachel had offered.

____________________________________________________________________________

Quinn stared hard at herself in the mirror. For the first time in her life, she swore she couldn't recognize the person looking back at her. Her grip on the edge of the marble countertop tightened until her knuckles turned stark white.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this.

After weeks of this back and forth, her craving for Rachel was worse than ever. She couldn't get the girl out of her mind. She could hardly go for five minutes in the day without thinking of her. It was driving Quinn utterly out of her mind. These goddamn feelings she had were supposed to be dissipating by now! She should be getting bored! If this had been any boy, she would have lost interest ages ago, but Rachel was different. The more Quinn had, the more she wanted. It was never enough. It was so damned infuriating that she'd even reached the point where she kicked a hole in her wall. It was the same afternoon she'd pinned Rachel against the piano in the choir room.

Finally, Quinn decided she needed to get over this once and for all. This stupid fixation had to end and her efforts had only made it worse. She needed release. That was sure to be the answer. If she would just have sex with Rachel, then she'd satisfy her craving for good. You didn't want another gallon of Cherry Garcia after you finished the first one, right? No. You get sick and never look at it the same way again. That's what she needed to do.

Of course, she expected some initial resistance from Rachel, who was still a virgin, but the girl had been so obliging in every other way, embarrassingly easy actually, Quinn didn't think it would take much convincing. As she walked up the steps to the Berry house, she was certain that this night would finally be the end of her torment.

She'd brought her overnight bag with her as a pretense in case Rachel's Dads were home. She always had one packed for the constant weekend swaps when she would stay over at Brittany's or Santana's.

But when Rachel opened the door, that doe-eyed look of pure shock on her face…Quinn felt herself falter.

What was she doing?

Instead, she strengthened her resolve and pushed through. It had to be done or she'd never be free of this.

It worked for all of three minutes. When Rachel came running after her into the bedroom and Quinn kissed her, she could feel that resolve weakening more than ever. Then it was like she didn't have control over herself anymore; she'd just…given in.

The face staring back at her in the mirror now, flushed cheeks and mussed hair, was not the face she'd made herself see for seventeen years. This was someone else now, not the Head of the Cheerios, not the most popular girl in school, not the ex-president of the Celibacy Club, not the devout Christian, not Russell Fabray's baby girl, not even the girl who had gotten herself knocked up at sixteen.

Whoever this was, Quinn was terrified of her.

She had been so wholly unprepared for Rachel shoving her away like that. It hadn't physically hurt, but for how it felt, she might as well have been punched in the stomach. As she stared at the trembling girl's back, she could see the muscles clenching beneath an expanse of smooth, tanned skin. It took all she had to listen to what the other girl was saying because her own mind was reeling so violently.

Did this actually just happen? Had she honestly forced her way into Rachel's house and proceeded to ravage the girl with hardly a word of consent? Had she gone so far that she'd made Rachel afraid enough to push her away?

Who was this person?

Listening to Rachel explain and offer her the chance to leave without further embarrassment, Quinn couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the need to stay. She wanted to stay there. She didn't want Rachel to think she was using her.

God, that's what she'd been doing all along though!

And Rachel knew it! Why had it never occurred to her before now?

Oh, that's right, because she didn't think about this. She refused to.

For this reason, even though she didn't fully understand it, Quinn decided she wasn't going to leave. Instead, she got off the bed, got her pajamas and a toothbrush, and walked into the bathroom without a word. Running the faucet, she splashed her face with icy cold water, and prayed that would be enough to snap her out of this.

She was staying? No. She wasn't staying! She was not about to have an actual sleepover with Rachel Berry because that was not what this was about. This was about some twisted need she had to have satisfied before she could move on with her life. She would rule McKinley, win Prom Queen with her boyfriend as Prom King, leave Lima for college on a cheerleading scholarship where she would join and soon dominate the sorority of her choice, be envied and known by all on campus. She'd find the perfect job and marry the perfect guy and have the perfect two children, a boy and a girl, and she would never return to Lima except for the one high school reunion where she would take the chance to show off how absolutely fabulous her life had turned out.

And yet here she was, staring at a stranger in Rachel Berry's bathroom after she'd all but forced herself on the girl.

She didn't want to go.

That ever so powerful mind block she'd perfected? Complete failure…happened pretty much the second she'd kissed Rachel when she stormed into that ridiculously pink and girly room.

Thoughts were flooding in like never before, a tidal wave crashing over her, and she held on for dear life, things like how beautiful Rachel was, how she really didn't mind her eagerness and intensely obsessive behavior in Glee. It was actually kind of adorable. She thought about how much it turned her on to hear her moan when Quinn touched her, how magnificent her voice was, the way it slipped inside her so effortlessly, and made her want to cry/laugh/sleep/make love all at the same time, how she loved the way her lips fit so perfectly with hers, how talented she was, how strong she was, how she amazing it felt when Rachel touched her, how amazing it felt when she'd touched her in return.

How guilty she felt for hurting her, for so many years…and just now.

Nearly all the blood had drained from her hands as she clenched the now warm and sticky marble.

Just brush your freaking teeth, Quinn.

So she did. She changed out of what remained of her uniform and into her pajamas.

Whatever she'd just done – she was going to make it up to Rachel somehow. She wasn't going to walk out and make this worse. If she left now, she'd never forgive herself.

Quinn realized at that very moment that she'd left behind whatever semblance of self preservation she'd had. Rachel wasn't just a craving. She wasn't just a twisted fixation. She was someone Quinn really…really wanted to know better, someone Quinn actually…kind of…completely…cared about.

How messed up was that?

____________________________________________________________________________

Using the time she had while the blonde was in the bathroom, Rachel speedily grabbed her pajama top and pulled it back on, buttoning in a flurry with a deep blush on her cheeks the whole time.

Quinn had actually seen her naked – half-naked, but still very naked – and she'd had her mouth on her breasts! Either the world was coming to an end or, as she thought before, it was just a dream, a very vivid, imaginative, sexual dream. Those were the only two explanations. She was sure of it. Otherwise it meant that…

She had not been that close to having sex with Quinn Fabray! No!

The door opened and Rachel steeled herself for the surely fearsome glare that she would receive from the head cheerleader. Instead, she found nothing of the kind.

Quinn had changed into a tank top and pajama shorts, her hair flowing loosely round her shoulders. She threw what looked like a toothbrush into her bag and made her way to Rachel's bed, pulling back the covers as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Rachel struggled to remember how to breathe.

"W-w- just what do you think you're doing?" she gasped out.

"Well, if we're not fooling around, I guess we can just go to sleep right?" Quinn explained casually. "Close your mouth, Berry, geez. I said we were having a sleepover, didn't I? In case you didn't know, this would be the sleep part."

Rachel felt like she was about to faint. She was pretty certain now that this was all a dream cause this sort of thing didn't happen in real life. Quinn Fabray did not come over to her house for heavy makeout sessions and then get into her bed intending to stay the night. It just didn't happen!

She tried blinking and rubbed her eyes to see if this was indeed just some trick of the mind, but Quinn was still lying there, looking up at her with a questioning eyebrow.

"Okay," was all she could manage.

What was happening? Quinn had been so very clear that their encounters would remain simple, without ever turning into something deeper. Now she wanted to spend the night in Rachel's bed with the full understanding that they would just sleep, nothing more? Was this a trick? Was she planning to try something again once Rachel had her guard down?

Swallowing thickly, she made her way into the bathroom, shutting the door quickly, and slid down to the cool tiled floor.

This was really just too much to take.

After a few minutes of utilizing the deep, meditative breathing techniques her therapist had taught her, Rachel managed to pull herself together enough to stand. Looking into the mirror, she gasped seeing a dark spot that formed high on her neck.

There was no denying what just happened, not with evidence like that. Touching it gingerly, Rachel marveled at the sheer incredibility that she was sporting a hickey from none other than Quinn Fabray.

Splashing some cold water across her face, hoping it would jolt her from this daze, Rachel went through her usual nightly routine, took a deep breath, and went back into her room.

Quinn had settled herself in even more comfortably beneath the covers, her golden locks splayed out against the pink of Rachel's pillows. The shock of having her there hit Rachel all over again as she had half expected to walk out to see an empty room once more. The first time had to have just been a mistake.

No. Quinn looked like she had no intention of taking off as she lay there with her eyes focused on the ceiling.

At a loss for what else to do, Rachel merely turned off the lights and climbed into the bed on the other side, lying down beside her.

They stayed like that for a few minutes that felt more like hours with only their shared quiet breathing to fill the room. Neither one was ready to sleep just yet.

"I don't know what I'm doing, alright?" Quinn murmured through the darkness.

Rachel took a shaky breath at hearing the sound of her voice. It was so soft, so vulnerable. The only time she'd ever heard her like this was after Finn found out Puck was the father…

"It's…" She shook her head. "Just…just don't think that if we're not… that I won't…"

Quinn wasn't really making much sense and Rachel could tell it was frustrating her that she couldn't properly voice her feelings. Somehow she understood what the other girl was trying to say anyway. She knew that however Quinn was struggling to find the words, it was really the part where she had to say all these things out loud that was the terrifying part stopping her. If she did say it, well there was no going back.

"I'm sorry I pushed you," she whispered so quietly, Rachel had to strain to hear, but heard all the same. "I-I didn't mean…"

Her heart raced, nearly bursting with joy, to hear such wonderful things come from her lips. Quinn apologized? Quinn cared enough to apologize?

"It's okay," she replied, attempting to control her voice to ensure that she sounded calm, whereas the truth was that she was anything but.

There were so many things she wanted to ask, so many questions, too many questions that even her own mind couldn't organize them. She knew they couldn't talk about it all right now; Quinn had already admitted more than she ever thought she would. It must have taken a great deal of effort on her part to say what she did so Rachel resolved to leave it alone for the time being.

Quinn wanted to stay with her tonight, without any sexual expectations whatsoever, and that was enough.

"Thank you," Rachel told her, hoping she understood the full meaning of her words.

She heard the other girl sigh and the bed shifted as she turned over to go to sleep.

Rachel soon followed.

Chapter Text

Rachel woke that morning on the far edge of her bed to sunlight streaming through the window because of the curtains she'd forgotten to close because of her so very unexpected visitor. Blinking in the bright light, she tried to move, and her heart skipped a few beats. Sometime during the night, Quinn had made her way over to Rachel's side of the bed and wrapped herself securely around her. The blonde had almost half her body on top of Rachel, clutching her tightly even in sleep, with her face burrowed in the crook of Rachel's neck, their legs entwined.

Rachel was sure that never in her life before had she woken so blissfully.

Quinn was even snoring softly against her ear and she stifled the giggle that threatened to bubble up in her throat. She couldn't bear to ruin this oh so perfect moment by waking her. So she subtly shut off her alarm clock that had been set for the usual 6AM, before snuggling back further and let herself drift off again, peaceful and loved in Quinn's arms.

So what if she wanted to pretend for a little while longer?

A few hours later, she felt the warm body behind her stirring, Quinn gave a sleepy sort of moan and Rachel couldn't resist a huge smile. She'd stayed in bed long past her usual routine and was perfectly content to do so. Quinn's arms tightened round her for a moment then went slack.

With a sigh, she closed her eyes, knowing what was coming and wishing it didn't have to.

Quinn yanked her arms back and slid away as far as she could on the bed in a flash. Rachel mourned the loss but simply turned over trying to remain as impassive as she could about the surely awkward situation they both felt themselves placed in. She hoped the blonde wouldn't overreact.

Quinn didn't overreact. She didn't yell or snarl or glare at her like she usually did in a way that seemed to be so second nature. Instead, she just seemed embarrassed, her cheeks a rosy color as she tried to blink away the sleep.

Rachel gazed at her in sheer wonder. Quinn was so beautiful. Her hair was adorably bed mussed, her eyes still a bit unfocused, and she had the most adorable expression on her face as she tried to wake herself. Yawning, she stretched in an almost catlike manner, her back arching off the bed, and fell back with a sigh, her hand resting against her cheek.

"Sorry," she mumbled, ducking her gaze. "I-I'm not usually like that. I don't… I'm usually a personal space person. Sorry."

Rachel just shook her head.

"I didn't mind," she said softly. "Good morning."

Quinn looked at her for what seemed the longest time, a hard stare, as though she were trying to figure out some sort of puzzle in her head. There was something else she wanted to say, something that Rachel could feel dying to spill from her lips, but then Quinn's eyes landed on something behind her.

"WHAT THE FUCK!"

They shot up at the same time, Rachel in disbelief and Quinn in a rage.

"What is it? What's wrong? And honestly, is that kind of language necessary?"

But she wasn't listening. She'd jumped out of bed and was running around the room like a mad woman, stripping as she swore under her breath.

"Damn it, Rachel!" she snarled. "I thought you always set your alarm for six! Isn't that what you said? You wake up every day at six! Even on weekends! What the hell? Today of all days you chose to not be your freakishly anal self?"

She was a tad speechless as she watched Quinn rip off her clothes leaving her shamelessly nude while she tore apart her bag looking for her clothes. All the while, the blonde was still ranting at her. Rachel had no idea what to make of it. Why would Quinn be so upset about sleeping in? She would have thought the girl would appreciate her turning off the alarm and allowing her more time to sleep in. Isn't that what people usually liked? She was sure of it. Her fathers never liked waking before nine at the latest on the weekends.

"I-I turned it off earlier. I didn't want to wake you."

"Son of a bitch!" the blonde growled as she accidentally stubbed her toe on Rachel's dresser.

"Quinn!" she exclaimed worriedly. "Would you just calm down? Tell me what's wrong."

She ignored her, zipping up the back of her Cheerios skirt, and dove to the floor to find her top.

"Hey…"

Rachel crawled to the foot of the bed, reaching out a reassuring hand to touch her shoulder, only to have it slapped away. She swallowed hard.

"I can't believe this," Quinn muttered, "cannot fucking believe this!"

She didn't even slow down enough to put on her top before she grabbed her bag, shoes, and went tearing out the door. Rachel listened as she heard footsteps scurry down the stairs and the front door slam. Within moments, she heard the screech of tires as Quinn roared out the driveway.

The brunette could only sit there.

What had been the closest to perfect of mornings she'd ever had was utterly demolished by cruel reality, as it life had always done to her and would likely always continue to do.

She'd ruined it. Quinn wasn't going anywhere near her now.

She had barely zipped up her uniform top as she sprinted across the field to the squad already well into their routine.

The Cheerios were required to attend all-day Saturday practices, starting at 7AM sharp. Quinn was nearly two hours late. She had counted on Rachel's alarm to wake her in time and this morning was a disaster. She knew exactly what she was in for now.

Breathless, she tightened her ponytail, and tried to sneak into the routine without Coach Sylvester noticing but it was useless.

"Q!" a demonic-sounding magnified voice echoed across the field.

She'd had her megaphone personally modified with a voice changer just to make it sound that much more intimidating.

Wincing, Quinn stepped out in front, seeing Brittany's worried gaze and Santana's 'what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-you' face.

"Yes, Coach?"

"YOU'RE LATE!"

"I know, Coach, but my Mom is really sick and I was with her at the hospital just now. The doctors told me she might not make it through the day, and they begged me to stay, but I said I had to go to practice."

"YOU ALLOWED SOMETHING AS ABSURDLY INSIGNIFICANT AS A DYING PARENT MAKE YOU TWO HOURS LATE FOR MY MANDATORY SATURDAY TRAINING?"

"Yes?"

"GET YOUR HIDEOUSLY STRETCH MARK RIDDEN THIGHS BACK OUT THERE AND DO YOUR JOB!"

Quinn nodded and ran back to take her place.

"CONSIDER YOURSELF LUCKY THAT MY ACTIONS ARE RESTRICTED BY THE 'UNITED NATIONS CONVENTION AGAINST TORTURE' –THE MEMBERS OF WHICH HAVE A PERSONAL VENDETTA AGAINST ME AFTER A FEW STRONGLY WORDED LETTERS PROPOSING THAT CERTAIN ACTIONS BE CONSIDERED JUST FAIR GAME. THOSE VINDICTIVE SONS OF CANARIES HAVE PROHIBITED ME FROM USING EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THE MEDIEVAL TORTURE TECHNIQUES, IN WHICH I AM SO MAGNIFICENTLY WELL VERSED, WITH THREATS OF LIFETIME IMPRISONMENT AND VERY POSSIBLY A DEATH SENTENCE TEXAS WOULD BE ENVIOUS OF!"

"Damn, Q, do you realize what you've done to yourself?" Santana muttered as discreetly as she could. "If all she does is murder you today, you'll have gotten off easy."

"I'm sorry about your Mom, Quinn," Brittany whispered and patted her back sadly.

The blonde took a deep breath and steeled herself as she listened to the Coach rattle off the number of torture methods she considered personal favorites and describe each one in explicit detail.

"AS I ALWAYS SAY, ONE MAN'S 'SADISTIC' IS JUST ANOTHER WOMAN'S 'FUN TIME'."

Santana couldn't have been more right. By the end of practice, Quinn was praying the Coach would just kill her already and be done with it. Sue Sylvester never let anyone get away with being late for practice, not even one minute, without some form of punishment. As Captain, Quinn not only had to suffer the consequences of her tardiness, but she also had to serve as an example to the others, so she had to meet the highest standard.

Which meant she got wrecked.

It was half past six when she finally started for home. Quinn could hardly keep her eyes open as she drove down the sparsely populated streets of Lima. Honestly, she was just glad to be seeing straight again. She'd had to wait a while before her vision corrected itself and she could start the car.

Sue forced Quinn to do double everything the squad did, double the usual laps, double the suicides, double the crunches, double the pushups, and so on. That was only the beginning though. She had the coveted spot at the top of the pyramid and Sue decided that, as part of her punishment, the Cheerios holding her would be ordered to dump her off, not just once, but twice. Quinn landed on the ground brutally both times, having trouble standing after the second.

Then after everyone was dismissed, she had to stay an extra hour running drills with Sue screaming at her through the megaphone. She made Quinn go so hard, she ended up vomiting on the grass, but Sue told her to untwist her panties and keep running. So she wiped her mouth and moved her legs.

Yet, through the whole nightmare, all Quinn could think about was when she would get to see Rachel again. The very image of the brunette's face as she had woken to her that morning filled her head and refused to leave. Even as her lungs burned, her body ached, her muscles trembled, all she could think about was how much she wanted to be with Rachel right then.

Her mother was still away visiting her sister so that meant Quinn would be going home to an empty house. Just the thought of being alone right now was more than she could stand. It wasn't so much a decision as instinct that led her to where she wanted to go.

With tremendous effort, driving slower than she ever normally would, she managed to make it to the Berry household, which thankfully was closer to the school than her own house.

Limping her way up to the door - it had taken her some time to find the energy to lift herself out of the car - she dragged her bag along the ground, and knocked on the door.

A tall, rather attractive, dark skinned man answered, and Quinn would have given just about anything for the chance to run away.

She'd forgotten about Rachel's Dads.

Unfortunately, there was no opportunity to escape as the man took one look at her and ushered her inside.

"You must be one of Rachel's friends from the Glee club! Come in! Dear girl, you look exhausted. Are you alright? Can I get you anything?"

Quinn politely rebuffed his worries. "Just a long day of training, sir."

"Call me Leroy," he said and clasped her smaller hand in his warmly.

"Leroy," she said with a nod. "I'm, um, I'm Quinn Fabray."

If she hadn't been so exhausted, she would have seen the wary look of recognition cross his face.

"Is Rachel here?"

He hesitated, his demeanor suddenly warping into something not nearly as welcoming as before. If Quinn had been in a better state of mind, she would have attempted to do something to rectify it, offer some kind of olive branch, but as it was, she just didn't care. She saw him looking up the stairs nervously.

"Ah, yes, she is. If you'll just wait here, I'll go-"

The blonde ignored him entirely, already halfway up the stairs by the time he realized she wasn't going to wait around. With her muscles protesting every step of the way, by the time Quinn reached the top she was without a doubt convinced that stairs were the devil's work.

Not bothering to knock, or even thinking to, Quinn walked in to see Rachel lying on her stomach on her bed. She had her iPod on singing along with the music softly and didn't hear her come in. Without a hint of pretense, Quinn simply walked up to her and dropped her duffel bag with great relief. Rachel looked up in shock for a moment and then yanked out the earbuds.

"Quinn! Y-you came back?"

Then her surprise gave way to sincere concern.

Quinn was sure she must look a sight, what with Leroy's reaction and now Rachel's. Well, no matter what they were seeing, she knew she was feeling a thousand times worse. Really, she felt like she might pass out at any moment now. Just standing was proving to be the most difficult of tasks.

Leroy knocked on the door with a stern look, not pleased at all that the cheerleader had so rudely disregarded him. "Baby girl, is everything…"

"It's okay, Dad!" she replied quickly. "Everything's fine. Could we have some privacy please?"

"Are you sur-"

"Yes, Dad, please!"

Though extremely reluctant, he nodded, and closed the door behind him.

"What happened?" Rachel gasped quietly, stepping in closer to the blonde. "You look terrible. Are you alright?"

"Just…rough practice," she muttered. "We have all day Saturday practices and I was late so I had to do some extra drills and stuff. I was – um – really tired and your house is closest so…I didn't want to risk driving further in this condition…dangerous and all…"

Quinn could have kicked herself for not admitting the truth.

"Oh, of course!" Rachel nodded as though that were absolutely the most wonderful explanation she could have heard. "Wow, it must have been pretty brutal, I don't think I've ever seen you so-"

"Can I use your shower?" she blurted.

"Yes! I mean, yes, of course you can. Anything you need… I- well…" she trailed off nervously and then said, "Maybe you should take a bath instead?"

"A bath?"

"Yes," she nodded firmly, seemingly more confident in her decision. "From the way you look, I don't think you'll be able to stand long enough for a shower. I'll go draw you one right now."

She went straight into the bathroom and turned on the faucet.

Quinn listened to the water run and slowly started on the excruciating task of getting out of her cheerleading uniform. Her muscles were so sore that added with her exhaustion and the injuries she suffered, she almost cried trying to struggle with the form fitting clothes.

Rachel came back, looking on sympathetically. Quinn had no choice.

"Can you help?" she asked wearily, beyond any semblance of pride at the moment.

Rachel, of course, obliged and moved in closer. Quinn tried not to let the nearness affect her. Rachel's fingers curled beneath the top and she tugged it off as gently as she could. She had to grit her teeth to keep from crying out in pain. Rachel was frowning deeply. When the miserable thing finally came off, the other girl gasped.

"Quinn!"

"Oh, it's showing already?" she muttered absently.

Quinn knew what her shoulder probably looked like - a mass of ugly purple and black. She knew it had been bad when she found herself struggling to move it afterwards.

"What happened?" Rachel asked in a near whisper.

"It's nothing," she brushed off her concern. "Coach just had it in for me today. She told them to dump me off the pyramid. I landed pretty hard on my shoulder."

"That's…that's…that is abominable," she hissed. She had a crazy dark rage in her eyes usually reserved for peak moments when she had to fight for a solo. "How can that monster even be allowed to-"

"I'm fine," she said tiredly and shimmied out of her skirt, leaving her in just her bra and matching red spanx.

Quinn was of no mind to deal with Rachel Berry's high-strung intensity, and seeing that, the girl reeled back, but the fire in her eyes didn't change.

She glanced longingly towards the bathroom where the tub of deliciously hot water was waiting for her. "I can't…" She blushed, looking down at the floor before screwing up the nerve. "I can't get out of this." She motioned to the bra. "My shoulder…"

Rachel swallowed thickly, but didn't say a word. With her gaze firmly fixed on Quinn's face, to allow a semblance of modesty, her nimble fingers went to help her lift it over her head. Quinn knew she was going as slowly and gently as she could, but it still hurt like hell.

Rachel looked near tears.

"This is why you were so freaked out this morning…" she murmured almost to herself, "Because you knew you'd be punished for being so late. It's my fault you-"

"No." Quinn shook her head. "You didn't know. Don't blame yourself. I'm fine. Just bath then sleep and I'll be good as new."

"Quinn…"

"I'm fine, Berry," she said pointedly. "Now I'm getting in the tub."

She nodded, biting her lip to keep herself from saying more. Quinn went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her, and pulled off the last remaining item of clothing, her spanx. In the mirror, she saw that not only was her shoulder turning a nasty color, but a large bruise spanning from her hip to below her butt cheek was forming as well.

Fucking Sue Sylvester.

Sliding into the hot water, Quinn bit back a moan at the relief it offered to her abused body. Rachel had even placed a folded towel on the end so that she could rest her head back comfortably. After she managed to wash herself up a bit, she fell back with a sigh. The next thing Quinn knew, she was waking up to Rachel kneeling beside her.

"What are yo-!"

"I knocked," she explained hurriedly. "Three times! And called for you, but you didn't answer and I got worried. With how exhausted you are, you could have fallen asleep, slipped under the water, and drowned! Statistics show that such unfortunate accidents in the home happen far more often than we would believe."

"Oh." She yawned. The water was uncomfortably cool now. Her fingers had pruned. "Hand me a towel?"

Rachel held one out for her as she struggled to get up. It took some effort, her hands braced against the sides to lift herself, but she managed to stand and Rachel modestly held the towel up. Quinn wrapped it around herself and held the other girl's shoulder for support as she stepped out.

As she moved in closer, their noses a mere inch apart, Quinn gulped. Even in this state, she still felt the surge of desire; her heartbeat picked up. Rachel looked at her with those big, dark brown eyes, and Quinn wanted to melt. She was so close, those perfect lips were right there, she could just lean in and…

"My Daddies are making dinner; it should be ready soon. You must be famished."

Though Rachel had spoken with casual ease, Quinn could hear the slight edge in her voice that told her that the other girl had been thinking the same thing.

Quinn wanted nothing more than to fall into bed right now, but she hadn't eaten all day and knew that if she didn't get something into her stomach, she would feel even sicker.

"Okay." She nodded.

"Are you staying over again tonight?" she blurted all of a sudden.

Quinn wrapped the towel around her securely, avoiding the brunette's intensely fixated gaze.

"I-If you don't mind…"

She heard Rachel breathe in sharply and looked back to see an overjoyed smile on the other girl's face. Quinn couldn't help but smile too…just a little bit.

She changed into the same thing she had worn the night before, since it was all she had with her, but was glad to see that she had a pair of her Cheerios sweatpants in her bag. Her tank top, however, left her more exposed than she liked for dinner with parents. Also, she was going to have to deal with the men's questions about her black and blue shoulder. Whatever…she was too tired to care.

Rachel came in, informing her that dinner was ready, but instead of looking at Quinn's face, her gaze kept drifting down to the exposed shoulder. Quinn knew she felt guilty, but didn't know how to further reassure her that it really hadn't been her fault. Just being here with her again, Rachel fussing over her every move, was more than worth it.

Of course, she would never admit to such a thing. She was only here for convenience, right, safety and all that? Forget the part where she hadn't been able to stop thinking about her all day. Forget that she was the only person she actually wanted for company. Forget that she could never stop freaking kissing her.

Yawning, she blithely went to follow her downstairs for dinner, but the girl stopped all of a sudden, causing Quinn to bump into her. Before she could question it, Rachel spun around, stood on her tip toes, and pressed her lips to hers sweetly.

Pulling away all too quickly, the brunette blushed, ducking her head shyly to look at the floor before turning back up to meet Quinn's eyes. She did so with such wariness, like a rabbit about to bolt, as if Quinn would reprimand or chastise her in some way. Rachel had stuck her hand in the cookie jar and she was waiting for Quinn to smack it away.

Licking her lips cautiously, the blonde wasn't sure at first how to respond. Her head said one thing, while another part of her demanded something else entirely. At her lack of reaction, Rachel looked like she was about to backtrack, and try to cover it up. Quinn wasn't about to let that happen. She leaned in and kissed her deeply. Her hands went to Rachel's neck, cupping her there as she stroked her cheek, lips and tongue melding ever further.

Never breaking the kiss, they stumbled back towards the door, Rachel letting out a gasp when her back met the wood. Quinn pressed her body into her, using the solidity to her advantage to feel Rachel against her. The brunette's hands had been hovering lightly over Quinn's back, but when she hit the door, she dropped her arms to wrap around her waist tightly, wanting them even closer. Grunting at the pain from Rachel pressing against the bruised flesh at her hip, Quinn yanked away, panting hard.

"W-what happened? Did I do something wrong? Did I bite you? I've been told I-"

"It's nothing," Quinn replied through gritted teeth, as she waited for the shooting pains to subside once more. "We should go eat."

Without giving Rachel the chance to inquire further, Quinn left the room, and headed downstairs. She didn't want Rachel to know about the other injury if she could help it. The girl already was beating herself up over seeing her shoulder there was no need to add to it.

For crying out loud!

Since when did Quinn care about not hurting Rachel Berry? Hadn't she made it a very clear mission in life to do precisely the opposite?

Oh, right, since last night.

At least, that's what she was telling herself.

Dinner with Rachel's Dads was surprisingly not horrible. Leroy was an avid volleyball player and accustomed to such sports injuries so as soon as she came down, he was already prepared and wrapped her shoulder with an ice pack in an expert fashion, handing her two ibuprofen as well.

Apparently, Rachel had already talked them down from wanting to interrogate the infamous cheerleader who had made their baby girl's life hell for so many years. Hiram watched her like a hawk, while Leroy was still annoyed about her previous rude behavior, but both men soon backed off when they realized just how exhausted and beaten the poor girl was. Quinn was barely able to keep her head up at the table, nodding off once or twice, until Rachel would gently squeeze her thigh to rouse her. For the little that she was conscious during that dinner, she actually found herself enjoying the conversation.

After Quinn thanked them both for the meal, and stifled the hundredth yawn of the night, Rachel automatically offered her a shoulder to help her trudge back up the stairs (still the devil's work!). She couldn't have been more relieved to collapse face first onto Rachel's bed and crawled her way up to the pillows with a heavy sigh.

Quinn didn't realize that in doing so, her sweatpants slid down a bit, revealing a glimpse of the bruised flesh at her hip. Rachel gasped and, without bothering to ask for permission, pulled her pants down further to see the full extent of it. Quinn stifled a groan into the pillow.

"Oh, Quinn…" she murmured sadly.

"Don't apologize again," she warned and fumbled for her hand before grasping it and tugged her upwards so they were face to face. "Just let me sleep, okay?"

"Sleep." She nodded in agreement.

Chapter Text

Rachel woke up yet again to Quinn nearly on top of her and had to stifle yet another giggle. For someone who claimed to crave personal space, Quinn was the epitome of a clingy sleeper. Not that Rachel minded in the slightest. She was on her back and the blonde was so deeply snuggled into the crook of Rachel's neck that her lips brushed against the base of her throat. The warm, even little puffs of breath against Rachel's bare skin had her tingling all over with pleasure. Trying not to jostle the girl, which proved difficult since Quinn had her hips thrown over her and an arm furled round her waist, Rachel looked up at the clock. It was half past six.

Pure terror seized her.

Unthinkingly, she hadn't set her alarm last night, not needing to wake up at her usual time.

"QUINN!" she screeched and shook the girl.

She bolted upright, looking round in a panic. "W-w-whut? Where? S'there a fire?"

"It's past six!"

Oh, how could she have let this happen again? If Quinn didn't hate her before, she would surely hate her now.

Still half asleep, the blonde turned on her with a fearsome glower.

"Rachel…" she said tersely, "you are honestly screaming at me at six o'clock on a Sunday morning? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kick your teeth in right now."

Looking at Quinn's angry, but bleary face, the mistake dawned on her.

"There's no Cheerios practice on Sunday, is there?"

Quinn shook her head.

"I-I-I am so sorry, I thought…"

Quinn rolled her eyes and fell back onto the bed, pulling the covers over her. "Just shut up."

Mentally chastising herself, Rachel laid back down on her side, staring at the wall. Quinn had her back to her as well. After having her so close before, the distance seemed even more pronounced. Tears prickled in her eyes.

Could she never get anything right?

Then the bed shifted and she gasped when Quinn sidled up behind her, wrapping her arm around her waist, and nuzzled at her shoulder. Rachel tensed at first to have Quinn hold her so intimately, not knowing what to make of it, but soon relaxed, giving in to the warm embrace.

"I'm not mad," she murmured drowsily, slipping a bare leg between hers, "It's just Sunday and I'm tired and I'm in bed with you. So be quiet and sleep like every other normal person in the world."

"You're not mad?"

"I will be if you keep talking."

"Stopping now."

Quinn woke a few hours later to an empty bed, at first confused about where she was, and then realized she hadn't had some post-traumatic hallucination courtesy of Sue Sylvester. She actually had slept at Rachel's again.

In her bed.

In her arms!

Suddenly, the walls were closing in.

Water was running and she heard Rachel running scales. Of course she would sing in the shower too. She sang everywhere else, didn't she?

Quinn needed to get out of there.

Dressing as quickly as she could, she tried to ignore the fiercely aching protests of her body that were even worse than yesterday, grabbed her things and snuck downstairs, hoping to avoid the Berry men in time to make it to the door.

No such luck.

They were in the kitchen and caught her passing by.

"Hello there, Quinn!" Leroy called out to her.

Swearing up a storm in her head, she took a deep breath, plastered the charming smile on her face that her parents had ingrained in her at so young an age, and went into the kitchen.

"Good morning," Hiram greeted her with a nod.

Both men still looked extremely dubious about the young girl standing in their kitchen.

"Good morning," she replied politely.

"Hungry? Want something to eat?" Hiram offered, gesturing to the stove. "We made-"

"Oh, no, thank you, but I have to get going."

"How's the shoulder?" Leroy asked.

"Killing me," she answered honestly with a sigh. "So is every other part of my body, but it's nothing I haven't dealt with before."

"Can I get you some more ibuprofen? It'll help keep the swelling down."

"No, that's alright, I really have to go. I'll take some when I get home. Um, thank you very much for having me and I apologize for being so out of it last night."

"No apology necessary, dear," Hiram said. "At least not for that."

What he was referring to hardly went unnoticed. The harshness in the man's tone should have at least had her flinching, cowering, or even turning away in shame, like it would have affected most people.

Quinn Fabray wasn't most people.

Instead of backing down, she just lifted her chin and stared him straight in the eye.

"We all have things we regret. Human nature, right?"

He blinked and stood back a bit, obviously not expecting that sort of response. Leroy was standing closer to her as she backed up to walk out.

"Thanks for wrapping my shoulder."

She looked between them and nodded with only a hint of a smile. "It was lovely meeting you both. Have a wonderful day."

When she stepped out the door, a blast of cool fresh air hitting her face, Quinn felt like she could breathe again. She hadn't realized how hard it'd been for her to face Rachel's Dads until her lungs were greedily sucking in oxygen while her heart thudded against her chest. If she hadn't been so sore, she probably would have run to her car just to get away that much faster.

She had just turned the ignition when a flash of purple caught the corner of her eye. To her utter disbelief, Rachel flew down the pathway barefoot, barelegged, in just an oversized lavender t-shirt that reached mid-thigh.

She had jumped in the passenger side before Quinn could say a word. Her hair was soaking wet, messy and dripping, since she didn't seem to have time to even wring it out before running to catch her.

"Where are you going?" she asked breathlessly, staring at her with wide eyes.

Quinn barely heard, her attention, focused entirely on the smooth, tan legs that were stretched out beside her. Rachel's shirt had ridden up when she sat down and was a torturous less than an inch away from revealing everything.

"Are you even wearing underwear?" she yelped.

Rachel blushed and tried to pull her shirt down more.

"That's beside the point! Where do you think you're going? Why did you just leave like that?"

Quinn was still fixated on the sight laid out before her before she finally snapped back to focus with a growl. Rummaging around the backseat, she found her Cheerios jacket and thrust it at Rachel.

"Cover yourself up."

"Why?" she replied innocuously.

Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head.

WHY? I'LL TELL YOU WHY! BECAUSE YOU CAN'T LOOK THAT GOOD! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME WANT YOU LIKE THIS! IT'S NOT RIGHT! THAT'S WHY!

"Um, b-because it's cold out."

"I'm not cold."

"I don't care, just do it!" she screeched. "You're practically naked!"

"Nothing is showing, Quinn," she said, bewildered. "Why is your face so red?"

She honestly thought for a second there that she might have a coronary, but then caught the ghost of a smile playing on Rachel's lips.

That tease! She knew exactly what she was doing!

"Put-the-damn-jacket-on," she said through gritted teeth, conveying the clear message that she was not kidding around.

Rachel bit her bottom lip, desperately trying not to appear as amused as she was, and covered her lap. With the temptation safely hidden away, Quinn did everything she could not to look at her.

"I'll repeat, for the third time, where are you going?"

"Home," she snapped.

"So this isn't you running away?"

"Running away from what?" she all but growled, eyes firmly fixed on the garage door ahead of her.

"You tell me," Rachel replied curtly.

"Get out of my car."

"Not until you tell me why you're taking off like this."

"In case you didn't realize, I do have a life, Berry! I have other things to do."

"Like what?"

Quinn felt like hitting the steering wheel. Why did this girl have to be such a mule all the time? Couldn't she just let her be?

"My Mom will be home soon. She wants me to go to church with her."

Yes, that was a boldfaced lie, and she didn't care. She just wanted to leave. Leave Rachel and her panty-less, impossibly long legged, gorgeously frustrating self behind.

"And you couldn't spare a minute to say goodbye?"

"You were in the shower," she said tersely.

"My shower isn't soundproof."

Clearly, she had no intention of letting this go. Quinn should have known better. It was Rachel after all.

"What do you want from me?" she huffed.

"For starters, you could try making eye contact at some point here."

She adamantly refused and Rachel just scoffed.

Quinn began to wonder who was being more of the mule between them.

"Fine. Look, I just don't want you to leave without having come to an understanding about us."

"There is no us!"

She silently cursed herself for sounding so panicky.

"You just spent two consecutive nights in my home, Quinn, sharing my bed, sharing more than my bed. I'm sorry, but you don't get to take the denial route anymore."

At that her shoulders slumped. She really just didn't have it in her to fight Rachel anymore. She was right. There was no going back from this. Sighing, she propped her head up on the door with her arm and finally let herself look at the brunette again.

Quinn sucked in a breath.

She was utterly unprepared for how ridiculously sexy Rachel looked right now. Her dark, wet hair clung to her face in curls, her shirt was soaked at the shoulders, the only thing she had on, and she had this look in her eyes…this knowing, lustful gaze that fired something low in her belly, causing her to squeeze her thighs together at the sensations.

"I need to know what to expect tomorrow," Rachel said, unaware of the effect she was having on the other girl, "in school, I mean."

Quinn stared at her blankly.

She wasn't actually going to suggest they go public or something was she? Like admit to what they were doing? What were they even doing?

"Are we friends now or do you plan on reverting to your old ways and ignoring my existence unless I say or do something that is particularly to your disliking and you make some sort of cutting remark?"

No. She didn't want that. She really…really didn't want that.

"I deserve to be prepared for however it is you choose to behave."

"I guess…we're friends," Quinn replied carefully, gripping the wheel. "We could try that."

Rachel swallowed thickly and she could tell how hard the girl was trying to contain her happiness.

It was strange how good it felt to be making Rachel happy for once.

"So…we could…talk…in public, such as in the hallway or during class?"

Quinn lifted her eyebrow. "You're going to talk during class?"

She conceded. "Okay, so not during class. Before, and after, or if our teachers give us an allotted time for group discussions and the like."

"Yes," Quinn said thickly. "We can talk."

A full-fledged smile lit up Rachel's face.

"See you tomorrow then!"

She opened the door halfway before shutting it again. Quinn looked at her, befuddled.

"Oh, one more thing?"

Give me strength…

"What is it?"

"I would greatly appreciate it if you could cease and desist with your sneak attacks."

Her chest clenched so painfully, Quinn had to struggle just to keep breathing evenly. There were tears in her eyes before she even realized it and hastily looked away from her so the other girl didn't see. Who knew it could hurt that bad to hear that Rachel Berry had no interest in kissing you?

"Fine," she said much more harshly than she intended to. "Like I would want to do that again anyway. I must be suffering from a head injury or something to have ever even let it happen in the first place. Get out of my car already!"

"Quinn," Rachel said gently and touched her arm. She flinched away. "I only meant I would prefer that if we were to engage in such actions, we could come to a mutual agreement on a specified time and place. It's not that I don't enjoy kissing you," she said shyly, tucking some wet hair behind her ear. "Far from it actually, another universe even, but I'm growing so accustomed that I'm concerned one day it's not going to be you sneaking up on me, but a crazy person trying to murder me, and I'll have my tongue halfway down their throat before knowing the difference."

Quinn stared at her in wide-eyed disbelief for a long moment and then burst out laughing.

"Well, if that didn't scare them off, nothing would."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Be serious!"

"No." She shook her head. "That is so ridiculous."

"It is a perfectly valid-"

"It's really not."

"Quinn!"

"Rachel!" she shot back mockingly.

They looked at each for a moment and then they both laughed. The brunette smiled at her again so breathtakingly that she couldn't help but return it in full. As Rachel got out of the car, after handing back the jacket, Quinn caught a glimpse of just how much that girl was not wearing underwear.

She skipped back into her house quickly to escape the cold while Quinn rolled down every window in the car and laid her head against the steering wheel to wait for her body to cool down.

Chapter Text

Rachel went into school that Monday morning practically walking on air. The past weekend was so unbelievably surreal. Not only had Quinn made progress in actually agreeing to be friends with her in public, but what they shared in the last three days went far deeper than anything they'd experienced with each other before.

Rachel knew what she wanted. She wanted Quinn…and not just in the physical sense. She wanted that of course, but with dates and hand holding, and romance too. She wanted them as a couple. She wanted to announce to the world that Quinn Fabray was her girlfriend.

However, as certain as she was of her own feelings, she understood that it was going to be a far more arduous journey to acceptance for Quinn, not only because of her religious background, but just simply because of who she was. If Rachel were honest, she never expected to make as much progress as they had already (if ever).

Before, she had thought Quinn would never be able to come to terms with her sexuality in a concrete, rational way, but after seeing this other side of the indifferent HBIC that so effortlessly ruled McKinley's halls, Rachel had a genuine reason to hope. She just needed to be patient and take her time. Patience was a virtue! Admittedly, it was not one of her better abilities, but it would be prudent to improve upon it for this very reason. She couldn't throw herself into this so blindly and desperately as she had done with her previous romantic interests. That would almost certainly give Quinn license to run so far so fast she'd be across state lines before Rachel could even blink.

Take it slow. Help her. Be her friend, first and foremost. The rest would happen with time.

Still, she was praying that their recent agreement to be friends did not exclude certain amorous activities. She had been clear with the girl on that front, right? In the car, she'd tried to make it plain that she had a vested interest in the kissing. As in, she definitely wanted more of it. From the way Quinn had reacted so violently to her request for less of the 'kissing by ambush' method, she was absolutely positive they were on the same page there.

Quinn desired her physically. Rachel was aware of that. She wasn't quite sure she believed it at times, but the more Quinn would just look at her in that way…the more she allowed herself to accept it and started feeling secretly special for it.

Quinn Fabray, the most beautiful girl in school, wanted her.

Now, she just needed to make sure that it didn't end at a superficial chemical attraction. This weekend had clued her in to the idea that Quinn might be feeling something more for her in return. Why else would she have come back after that disastrous morning and hellish day instead of just going home to be left in peace? It meant something that she wanted to be there with her. Didn't it?

Of course it did.

Now, just take it slow, Berry.

She had to curb herself when she realized she started to skip down the hall to where Quinn's locker was. She couldn't wait to see her. Waking up alone that morning had felt foreign and empty somehow, even though she'd woken that way all her life. Just two mornings with Quinn wrapped around her and she was already so spoiled. She wanted her there every morning now.

He was heads above the crowd and Rachel lurched to a halt. Finn walked down the hall in her direction.

Finn!

She hadn't even thought about the boy once in over three days. If told that even just a couple weeks ago, she would have said such a thing was impossible. Rachel always thought about Finn, obsessively so. Everything she did or planned always had him factored in somehow. She'd been doing it ever since early sophomore year.

Finn had broken her heart. Right about now she would usually be running up to him, trying to apologize yet again and begging him to take her back.

But she hadn't even thought about him in days. It was refreshing somehow, as if she was finally getting to breathe clean air once again. She felt free.

Shoot. He was coming her way. The last thing she wanted was to have an encounter with her ex right now. Turning on her heel, Rachel ducked round the corner and collided with another body.

"COFFEE! WATCH THE COFFEE!" Quinn barked, holding away the paper cup carefully. "Walk much, freak?"

All optimism drained out of her body in a single second. She should have known better. It was Quinn after all. How could she have been so naïve as to think-

"Rachel!" she said in surprise and her voice softened at once. "Sorry. Didn't see it was you. Look, I know what we agreed to, but being friends does not mean you get to run me over. I don't know what your personal definition is, but in the world where everybody else lives, it's generally frowned upon."

She couldn't believe her ears. Was Quinn actually being playful with her?

Just like that, her heart was doing flip flops all over the place again. Perhaps she hadn't been so naïve after all.

"Very funny, Quinn." She tossed her hair back with a smile. "I do apologize. I wasn't paying attention enough to where I was going. I just needed to get away from…"

She trailed off when Finn's voice boomed nearby as he laughed and, thankfully, went in the opposite direction. Rachel breathed a sigh of relief.

"I see," Quinn replied coolly.

It was then that she noticed the blonde was wearing sunglasses…indoors…when it was overcast outside.

"What's with the…" She gestured to the shades.

Quinn didn't bother to answer and simply kept on walking to her locker, causing Rachel to follow. She couldn't help the nerves that took over as she stood next to the cool blonde and held her books to her chest tightly as if they were protection somehow. Quinn opened it and started digging around for what she needed.

"Hold this." She handed Rachel her coffee.

"Is everything alright?"

"Fine," she muttered. "I didn't sleep at all last night, some freak attack of insomnia. My eyes are bloodshot so I'm wearing the glasses so Coach doesn't see and accuse me of being on drugs or whatever. She put Santana through hell last year when she saw a needle mark on her arm, ranting that one of her best cheerleaders was shooting up in crack houses. Really, it was just from a routine blood test. Her Dad had to come down to the school to sign an affidavit attesting to the fact."

"Let me see," Rachel said, gently moving the shades down her nose before Quinn could do anything to stop her.

Indeed, she had a pair of dark, purple circles and a few broken blood vessels. Rachel wondered just what it was that kept her up all night.

"I have some drops that could help. I usually keep it on hand for when I don't shut my eyes fast enough before a slushie facial. Always soothes the sting pretty quickly. It should clear that up for you."

She almost missed the frown that formed on Quinn's lips before it vanished. Instead, the blonde just pushed the sunglasses back into place.

"Sure. I'll try anything."

Rachel handed her back the cup.

"I think this is going quite well so far, don't you?"

"What is?"

"This. The friends thing. We're in school, surrounded by our many peers, engaging in casual conversation, and you haven't snapped at me in a record total of four and half minutes now."

Even though she couldn't see it, Rachel knew Quinn was rolling her eyes.

"You are so pushing this," she groaned and sipped the hot drink.

"Don't be cranky. Not everyone missed out on their beauty sleep like you."

"Just give me the drops, Berry."

Quinn didn't want to admit it, but her previously miserable mood had all but disappeared the moment she realized it was Rachel who ran into her in the hall. She'd been half looking forward to seeing her, half dreading it, leaving her a nervous wreck, but then she saw Rachel, and it just all went away.

Last night had been torturous. Quinn couldn't sleep for the life of her, wide awake and staring at the ceiling as the hours ticked past. She couldn't get Rachel out her mind, couldn't stop worrying about what it was she was getting herself into, what it all meant, what she didn't want to face. Before long, it was time to get up for school.

Talking to Rachel by her locker for those few minutes came so easily. She expected it to be harder. She expected the whole school to gape in astonishment. In reality, no one really noticed them. She had made it out to be so much worse in her head.

Despite the sleep deprivation, just a few minutes with Rachel had considerably lightened her mood. She waited patiently, sipping her coffee (triple shot espresso, thank you very much), as the brunette searched through her purse for the eye drops.

"Hey, babe."

And just like that, her good mood plummeted through the floor, along with her stomach, and would remain there for the rest of the day.

Sam came up from behind them and kissed her on the cheek.

Sam. Her boyfriend. Her sweet, loving, adorable boyfriend. Who was a boy.

"Hey," she choked out.

His arrival obviously threw Rachel, but she tried to recover by feigning nonchalance.

"Sup, Rachel?" he said cheerily, slinging an arm over Quinn's shoulder. She tried not to recoil. It wasn't that she was bothered so much when he did that, she just couldn't stand to have him doing it in front of her. It felt backwards somehow, like he wasn't the one who had that right.

"Hello, Sam," she said politely, but averted her eyes. "Here you go, Quinn." She placed a small bottle in her hand. "Hope it helps. I should get to class. See you."

She rushed off before Quinn had a chance to respond.

"Yeah…see you."

Sam spent the rest of the day interrogating her about where she'd disappeared to that weekend and why she didn't call him or reply to his texts. She simply repeated the same excuses over and over again until she got so fed up, she snapped. He got that dumfounded/kind of freaked out/whoa look on his face that reminded her of what Finn would look like whenever he called her 'scary Quinn'.

That annoyed her even more.

Rachel avoided her for the rest of the day. She didn't even make eye contact with her when they were in Glee. Cheerios practice was hell as Quinn's injuries hadn't healed, but she had to push through. When she went home, her Mom wasn't there, but there was a note. She'd gone out with her friends for the night and Quinn was on her own for dinner. She heated up some leftover pizza, did her homework, constantly checked her phone, ignored all the messages from Sam, went through her bedtime routine, checked her phone again, got into bed.

What a freaking fabulous day.

Yet she couldn't get her mind off the simple five minutes that morning that had so naturally made it seem like everything was going to be okay.

She checked her phone one last time; no missed calls, no new messages.

What did she expect?

Just as Rachel had forgotten about Finn, she'd forgotten about Sam. When he came up to them at Quinn's locker, it was so unexpected that she had to force herself to remember how to carry on as usual.

How had it never occurred to her before that by doing what she was doing with Quinn, she was helping her cheat on Sam? It had never even crossed her mind until he walked straight into their bubble so unassumingly.

Feeling sick to her stomach, for more reasons than one, she had removed herself from the couple as quickly as possible and spent the rest of the day in a darkly demoralizing spiral. She couldn't even bring herself to look at the girl in question.

Quinn had a boyfriend.

Quinn didn't and wouldn't ever have a girlfriend.

Quinn would never want the same things Rachel wanted.

Quinn wanted the hot jock boyfriend, the exemplary grades, to be at the top of the social food chain, Prom Queen, and everything else that the, decidedly perfect, American as apple pie, high school experience could define.

And Rachel was none of that.

Not for the first time in these last few weeks, she wondered just what in the world she was doing.

Chapter Text

It was a decidedly different experience walking into school the next day. Who knew that a Tuesday could be worse than a Monday? Monday morning, she had been happily ensconced in her cozy little delightful world where she and Quinn were in the beginning stages of a new relationship, and this morning Rachel found herself locked in a miserable nightmare.

She hoped she could avoid the other girl well enough as she had been able to do yesterday. All hope of that vanished when it appeared Quinn wasn't about to let that happen. Still, Rachel couldn't deny the wild fluttering of her heart when she saw a certain blonde waiting by her locker. Then she remembered just what couldn't be and whatever elation she felt was dampened once more.

With that in mind, a sickening knot formed in her stomach, and she steeled herself for whatever it was Quinn was waiting there for.

She had to be strong.

"Hello," she greeted in simple acknowledgement and opened her locker.

"Hey."

The simple, soft utterance had Rachel feeling weak in the knees. How did Quinn manage to have this effect on her? How did she do that? Just hearing her voice was enough to…

"Is there something I can help you with, Quinn?"

Good. That sounded strong, nothing like what she was feeling.

"Uh, no," she said, her surprise evident. "I mean, I just thought I should give this back to you."

She handed Rachel the bottle of eye drops, which she took from her with a shaking hand and put in her locker without a word.

"It really helped a lot. Thank you."

"I'm pleased to hear that," she said shortly and retrieved the rest of her books before shutting the metal door. "Now, if there's nothing else, I really need to get to class. Have a good day."

She turned and tried to walk off quickly, but when Quinn grabbed her arm, she wasn't surprised.

"What is your problem?"

Rachel was amazed at how familiar that fury in hazel eyes was. This was the Quinn she knew so well.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied calmly and moved out of her reach. "I'm going to be late."

She started walking again but Quinn had glued herself to her side. How often had they performed this dance?

"You're avoiding me."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because we were wrong to do what we did."

Quinn stepped in front her, forcing Rachel to stop.

"Don't even try to pull that!" She bowed her head closer in a fierce whisper. "You've been all over me from the start. What's this sudden bout of moral conscience?"

She could feel her neck starting to get hot as anger started flooding in. Quinn had no right to speak to her like this. It was hard enough already!

"Sam. Your boyfriend. Remember him?"

She moved around her and kept walking. Quinn's harsh voice in her ear startled her.

"What does he have to do with anything?"

"You're kidding me, right?"

"Who cares about him? He means nothing."

"I care! He's your boyfriend and I won't be a part of something as contemptible as cheating!"

"He never bothered you before," she said silkily. Her tone had dropped to a quiet, deadly undertone, reminding her of a predator toying with its prey just because it made it that more satisfying when it went in for the kill. "Just like kissing Finn when I was still with him didn't bother you or when you made out with Puckerman to get back at your precious boyfriend for screwing Santana."

Rachel whirled around, this time getting in Quinn's face.

"That is exactly the point!" she hissed furiously. "You and I have both experienced firsthand the fallout that comes from these actions. I don't want to be that person, Quinn. I refuse to be."

They were moving again.

"So you're saying you don't want this anymore?"

"I'm saying I won't be participating in those activities with you anymore, yes."

"No."

"No?"

"You can't help yourself around me, Rachel. You want it. I don't care what you say right now because the moment we're alone, you'll be all over me in a second, begging for more. If you think I'm going to let you get away with this just because you think Sam will get his stupid feelings hurt then you're dead wrong. You don't have a choice, you're not calling this off, I won't let you."

Don't listen. Don't listen. Don't listen.

"You can't make me do anything I don't want to do."

They were going up the stairs now.

"But it's exactly what you want or you wouldn't have waited weeks before trying this crap."

"Stop it, Quinn. Just accept that I'm done and we can go back to the way things were before."

"Why are you so damn worried about Sam all of a sudden? You don't even talk to him! I'm surprised you even know his name!"

"He's a human being! That's enough for me to care. Not all of us are as selfish and heartless as you are. I care when others people's feelings get hurt because God knows I've been there enough. You, however, are more than content to do or say whatever it is you want without a single thought for how it might affect someone else. And I'm sick of it!"

All of a sudden, Quinn had a painful grip on her arm, and she forcefully threw Rachel into the girl's bathroom, so much that she stumbled over her own feet. There were a few sophomore girls hanging about that looked surprised, but one glare from the Head Cheerleader had them scrambling for the door.

"Don't you manhandle me, Quinn Fabray!" she cried. "What has gotten into you?"

Quinn walked up the row of stalls, throwing each door open with a crashing bang each time, to ensure that they were alone before she turned on her again.

"Do you want me to break up with him?" she exclaimed. "Is that it? Is that what this is about?"

Rachel was taken aback. The blonde didn't seem quite so vicious anymore, just bewildered…and lost.

"Would you?" she asked quietly.

Quinn looked away, shaking her head furiously. "Why would I do that?"

"If you're not even willing to answer then I guess there's no point in discussing it."

"You do want me to break up with him!" she said accusingly.

The door opened and two girls were about to walk in.

"GET OUT!"

They squeaked at the enraged HBIC and promptly ran away.

"It doesn't matter what I want. You obviously do not possess the moral capacity to do the right thing, so I'll do it for you. I won't be party to something that would hurt someone else. That's just the end of it."

"No, we're not done here."

"There's nothing more to say! You've made your position clear, as have I. We both know where we stand."

The door swung open again. It was a freshman Cheerio. Quinn was so fed up at that point that she just shoved the girl back and slammed the door without a word. There was a chair off to the right and she dragged it over, wedging it under the handle to ensure that they wouldn't be interrupted anymore.

"This has nothing to do with hurting anyone! You're just jealous of him, Rachel. You're jealous and hiding behind the pathetic excuse of morals, when really it's just about your own selfishness. It's laughable that you think you're so much better than me. I'm the selfish one? You don't make a single move without thinking about what's in it for you! Whether it's a solo or a guy you're interested in or the just the attention!"

Rachel struggled not to let Quinn's vicious attack get the best of her. "You're right," she said and lifted her chin determinedly. "I've made mistakes and I'm trying to learn from them. It's all anyone can do. But at least I know what I want and I'm not ashamed of trying to make it happen. You are so terrified of what you want that you're doing everything you can to deny it, trying to make yourself want different things, what you think you're supposed to have. But it's not working is it?"

"And what would you know about what I want?" she spat.

"Because you want me."

For a moment there, she wasn't sure if Quinn was going to hit her or just storm out. It felt like the longest time that they stood there, locked in anger with tension fueling the space between them.

Then the other girl just simply relented. Her shoulders slumped and she moved towards the sinks, avoiding looking at herself in the mirror.

"This isn't fair, Rachel," she said hoarsely. "You didn't care about him before. Why now? Why can't you just leave it alone?"

The brunette approached her cautiously. Quinn clenched the sides of the sink so tightly that her arms trembled.

"I admit…his presence in all this didn't even occur to me until yesterday. You've had me in a tailspin these past few weeks, Quinn. I can hardly think straight. I've just been going through this in a daze. First Finn broke things off and then you came in… I wasn't thinking properly. You have that effect on me, you know."

She could see the blonde's grip relaxing. Her arms weren't shaking anymore.

"It's okay to be scared," she whispered. "I'm scared too."

Quinn glanced at her for a moment, as if debating something, and then turned her body so that they were facing each other now.

"I don't want this to stop," she said quietly.

"I don't want it to either."

"So why are you being like this?"

"Quinn…" she trailed off at the pleading gaze in the blonde's eyes.

All the resolve she told herself she was going to have? Didn't happen.

Quinn cupped her cheek and Rachel instinctively touched her waist as they leaned in closer. When those soft, pink lips pressed against hers, Rachel knew she lost the battle. Hell, she was going to lose the war too. Quinn was right, she didn't have the means to resist her, not because she couldn't, but because she didn't want to. The cheating was only a contributing factor. Jealousy had been the true driving force. She wanted Quinn. But Sam was the one who had her. In the end, Quinn would never choose her and Rachel was going to get her heart broken.

Yet, none of those things mattered when Quinn kissed her. Just as every other time - logic, reason, and the rest of the world flew out the door. It was just about them.

Furious pounding on the door shocked them both out of the haze.

"Quinn! Quinn, don't do it girl!" Mercedes shouted from the other side. "We heard you barricaded yourself in there with Rachel, but just calm down!"

"It's not worth it!" Kurt yelled.

"We know what she's like, but if you kill her you're going to spend the best years of your life in the Ohio State Penitentiary!"

"You'll be an old crone by the time they let you out! Wrinkles and all!"

Rachel huffed. "Some friends," she muttered. "You're apparently in here murdering me and it's your life they're concerned about?"

She didn't even crack a smile, never taking her eyes off her.

"QUINN!"

More banging.

"I don't hear anything. What if she killed her already and escaped out the window?"

"No, Coach Sylvester had the windows nailed shut and booby trapped it with a taser last year when she caught some of the Cheerios smoking," Mercedes replied.

"So why aren't they answering?"

The blonde didn't seem to hear a word of what was going on outside that door. Instead, she reached out and brushed some hair back from Rachel's face. She breathed in sharply at the touch of Quinn's fingertips against her cheek. She could feel herself getting lost again in the intensity of those beautiful hazel eyes.

"Please?" Quinn begged. She sounded so vulnerable…so desperate. "Can we just wait and see if this is…if this is…you know. Please, just say yes. Say okay. That's all."

Rachel wanted to say no, knew she should say no…had to say no.

"Okay," she whispered.

"WHITE GIRL, YOU BETTER OPEN THIS DOOR NOW BEFORE I BREAK IT DOWN!" Mercedes bellowed.

Quinn's face set into a dark glower. She knocked away the chair and tore the door open to see a frantic looking Kurt and Mercedes.

"Finally!" they said in unison.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she snapped. "Are you two insane, beating on the door like that? If I were going to actually murder someone, it's not going to be in the school bathroom before first period!"

"Well…not murder…" Kurt said awkwardly.

"More like beat the daylights out of..." Mercedes finished.

"You two need to get a life. Don't ever do that again."

With that, Quinn stalked off, leaving Kurt and Mercedes befuddled and faced with an entirely unamused Rachel.

She immediately regretted her decision to give in to Quinn. Then, for a few minutes, she didn't regret it only to regret it again. It was quite the tennis match for Rachel's brain as she flew back and forth between the two.

The week passed by, then another one. They were friends. Quinn was still with Sam, but spent almost all her time with Rachel. The members of the Glee club were suspicious of their newfound friendship, but the rest of the school reacted a bit more severely. Seeing Quinn and Rachel arguing? That was as typical and anticipated as the bell in between periods. Seeing Quinn exchange clipped but civil words with Rachel? Nothing to bat an eye at. But to see Quinn and Rachel walk down the halls smiling and giggling with each other? Even the teachers were on red alert!

With the whole school now taking a vested interest in every single move they made, waiting for Armageddon, the girls knew they had to be extra careful with how it looked. Though it hardly stopped them from finding ways to escape to some secluded corner to enjoy a brief few minutes in each other's arms - the auditorium rapidly became a preferred place of refuge.

Still, as much as Rachel enjoyed being on good terms with Quinn, however precarious and undoubtedly complex their fledgling relationship was, she knew they had to step it up soon. Making out in the wings of the auditorium was all well and good, but it wasn't getting them anywhere. Quinn was still too afraid to make the break with Sam and Rachel logically understood that it was a way of protecting herself and not having to accept the full weight of her actions. It didn't mean it hurt any less when she saw them walking down the halls hand in hand. Quinn swore that she didn't want Sam that way, but whenever Rachel even casually hinted at her ending things with him, the blonde shut down.

Of course, she believed that Quinn didn't have real feelings for him.

Of course, she would always harbor doubts about it.

Rachel was at her locker when Quinn walked up and asked to have lunch together.

"Really?" she squeaked.

Though they were friends, the two remained separated at lunch, Quinn sitting with Santana, Brittany, and some other Cheerios, while Rachel was at her usual table with Kurt, Mercedes, Mike, and Tina. They hadn't crossed that line yet, especially with the scrutiny they were under. Sitting together at lunch just might send everyone overboard and they were trying to be as low key as possible.

While this is what they had agreed to, she was more than happy to ignore it altogether because it meant Quinn wanted to sit with her for all to see.

"Meet me in the choir room?" she asked sweetly.

Rachel's face fell. Of course, this wasn't about a cafeteria proclamation. Quinn just wanted to spend their lunch hour making out. It wasn't that she was opposed to the idea, far from it, but she still couldn't help feeling a little disappointed.

"Lunchtime exists for a reason, Quinn." She frowned. "I can't skip an integral meal that fuels my energy for the rest of the day just for some hormonal-"

The other girl started laughing, confusing her so much that she stopped mid-sentence.

"Actually," she explained with a smile, "I just wanted to be alone so we could have the chance to talk more. You know, like you've been asking?"

Rachel's mouth formed an 'o' shape.

She took advantage of the moment and leaned in, whispering seductively against her ear, "But if that's what you had in mind, I wouldn't object…"

The brunette blushed furiously, tucking her hair back as she focused on the floor. Smirking victoriously, Quinn sauntered off with an extra sway in her hips, knowing full well that Rachel was watching her go.

Her cheeks aflame, she closed her locker, sagging against it for some much-needed support. Quinn reached the end of the hall where a group of freshman Cheerios were gathered and promptly slapped one of them upside the head.

"No stains on the uniform. Change. Now."

She yelped and immediately ran off, while Quinn went on her way without a second glance. The other girls watched her go fearfully.

Groaning, Rachel rapped the back of her head against the metal lightly.

What had she gotten herself into?

Later, Quinn was spending her third ever night at the Berry house. The men were extremely suspicious that their daughter was embarking on a friendship with the girl who had previously been the cause of so much pain in her life. Rachel had explained to them that Quinn was different now, so they tolerated her for their baby's sake, but remained ever wary. Rachel was too trusting. It was how she'd ended up with her heart broken so many times. They knew it. Quinn knew it. Only time would tell who was right and who was wrong.

At the moment, the two girls were sitting on the floor playing Battleship.

Quinn was not pleased.

"It's a Friday night and we're playing board games?" she groaned.

"It's good, clean fun, Quinn. A4," she retorted airily.

"Miss. Battleship though? Don't you have anything better? J6."

"Hit. We are in possession of quite an impressive array of games to choose from, particularly party games seeing as how my fathers often like to entertain. I thought we might try Scrabble after this. E2."

"Miss. Scrabble? I thought you'd pull out Candyland or something. J7."

"Miss. I think we're a little old for Candyland, Quinn," she replied, missing the sarcasm entirely. "D9. Are you really not having fun?"

"Hit. No, it's fine," she grumbled, "I just thought, you know, we could…" Her gaze drifted to the bed.

It's not that she didn't like hanging out with Rachel. She really did. In fact, the more time she spent with the girl behind closed doors, the more she realized just how much she really did like her as a person. What had always been so irritating and overbearing about her wasn't there when they spent time alone. Yet, Rachel was the same person she always was. It was Quinn that changed.

The more she found herself enjoying the time spent with the diva, even when not making out, the more Quinn realized that all the things she found so infuriating, were actually things she really loved. Rachel's ambition, her drive, her talent, her determination, her dedication, all of it was part of what made her just so amazing as a person. She could be so fearless, so resilient. Rachel was what Quinn always wished she were strong enough to be.

So, of course, she had found her obnoxious, diva-like behavior in Glee infuriating. It was like she was forcing herself into Quinn's life when she'd been doing everything possible to keep her out of it. Of course, she was infuriated by her underhanded attempts to steal her boyfriend (it'd always been fairly easy to convince herself it was because she loved Finn, not that any iota of her anger came from how much it hurt to see Rachel want him). Of course, she had hated how easily Rachel brushed off any slushie or cruel remark that she (and many, many others) would throw her way. It only made her feel worse. Not only was she hurting someone who didn't deserve it (for reasons she was not going to admit at the time), but it also outlined just how weak she herself was by comparison.

Still, no matter how much she enjoyed talking to Rachel, how amused she was by all those little quirks and details of her life and personality she was still discovering, it didn't take away that ever constant desire to be kissing her. So what if she'd hoped their sleepover would be reminiscent of the previous ones? That wasn't a bad thing! And Rachel was certainly not helping by wearing that silk nightgown. She'd changed into that after dinner and then pulled out Battleship? Was she kidding? That was downright cruel.

The brunette just rolled her eyes. "The night is young. If we're going to start down this road to further understand our…this…the only way we'll achieve anything is by talking. I just want to get to know you better."

Quinn frowned, not able to dispute that.

"What do you want to talk about?" she asked. "J4."

"Hit. Anything. E9."

"Hit. Well, that's too vague. You're going to have to be more specific. J3."

"Shoot!" Rachel pouted. "Sunk my submarine. You win."

"Finally!" she exclaimed and tossed the game aside, crossing her legs underneath her. "Okay, so you want to get to know each other and you thought board games were going to help that along?"

"It is a time-honored tradition for friends and family to-"

"Why don't we just ask each other some questions and start that way?"

Direct and to the point…it was the easiest way possible and would save her the time of having to go through anymore pointless board games. If she knew Rachel at all, the girl probably had a succession of at least ten games she intended to push Quinn into which would revolve around a not-so-subtle interrogation (which she had a previously composed list of questions for). Quinn was not about to let their night be wasted like that.

Rachel considered it for a moment, obviously concerned that it meant she was going to have to abandon her carefully constructed plans, but eventually relented. "Okay. Me first. Favorite color?"

"Yellow. Yours?"

"Fuchsia."

"Vacations?"

"We have a family house in Pennsylvania. Most of my summers are spent there when I'm not at a performing arts camp. You?"

"St. Barts was the usual. That won't be happening anymore with the divorce though."

"How are you dealing with that?"

"Life is better without my Dad. We can just leave it at that. Favorite food?"

"Tomatoes. You?"

"Tomatoes? Who answers 'tomatoes' to the favorite food question? It's usually fries or pizza."

Rachel pouted. Quinn was quickly discovering that she really liked it when she did that.

"But I really love tomatoes…"

"So weird."

She narrowed her eyes. "I wasn't aware we were going to be judging each other's answers."

"Fine." She held up her hands in forfeit. "I guess I'll say bacon."

"Oh, Quinn, red meat, really? Do you not understand-"

"What happened to no judging?" she interrupted pointedly. "Don't even attempt to lecture me on this one. Bacon makes the world go round."

"That is…grossly inaccurate."

She ignored her. "Favorite sleeping position?"

"Um, Quinn…" She shifted in embarrassment, tucking her legs underneath her.

"Actual sleep!"

"Oh. On my side usually. You?"

On top of you.

"Stomach."

"Are we dating?"

Quinn stared at her.

"Sorry," Rachel shrugged helplessly, "I tried to allow for some warm up questions first before we got to the more hard hitting things. I know we're not dating as in, publicly or officially because you still yet retain a boyfriend, my dubious feelings about which you are no doubt aware of, but are we…is this a relationship?"

"Do you want it to be?"

"You know the answer to that."

Quinn swallowed thickly. She'd thought Rachel's 'getting to know you' scheme would involve just the simple things; favorite movie, morning person/night person, boxers or briefs? Things like that! But here she was…cornered…and there was no getting out of it. She was the one who'd proposed the direct approach after all. It was her own damn fault.

Well, she wasn't going to lie.

Her heart began to beat erratically and she took a deep breath, trying to be strong enough. She could do this. She could admit it.

"I-I think I want it to be too."

"Okay." Rachel nodded. "Most listened to song on your iPod?"

"That's it?" she said dumbly, her lungs expelling air in a whoosh.

The brunette had hardly even blinked in response. Where was the overzealous diva? Where was the obsessive-compulsive behavior that would have her plotting out every single moment spent together for the next ten years? Where were the grand, sweeping romantic gestures that likely included singing ballads on the street for all to hear? Where was the jumping for joy, attacking her with kisses, planning out their wedding theme?

Wedding theme? Whoa. You did not just go there.

Quinn felt lightheaded.

"You answered the question." She shrugged.

"But I thought you'd want to go over every single aspect of what we're doing in agonizing detail, including ultimatums about me dumping Sam."

Why was Rachel being so casual about this? She had just admitted to wanting to be with her, in an actual, I-want-more-than-kissing, way. By Rachel Berry's rules of life, there should be- oh.

Quinn felt like kicking herself. Why would Rachel freak out over something like this when she had given her every reason to need to protect herself? She couldn't even manage to break up with her boyfriend even though she spent her days and nights in Rachel's arms and here she was disappointed that Rachel wasn't over the moon about this, happier about them? Damn, she really was self-absorbed. That was going to have to change.

Still…she'd seen what Rachel was like in her other relationships, with Finn and Jesse. If they'd let her, she would have sewn their clothes together just to never leave their side. When Rachel was in love, she was all out in love, no holds barred, embarrassing, exposed, rip-my-heart-out-and-stomp-on-it–if-you-want-to, love. Maybe what really bothered her about all this was that Rachel didn't seem to feel that way about her. From a practical standpoint, Quinn was grateful for her restraint because an overzealous lovesick Rachel was the last thing she could handle. Yet…she still kind of wanted it. It actually…kind of killed her to think that Rachel wouldn't feel that way about her.

Yep, that was definitely a headache forming between her eyes.

"That can all wait," she replied simply. "I just required a preliminary affirmation to prepare for future discussions on the topic."

"Won't that be fun," she muttered.

"Just tell me the song, Quinn," she said patiently.

Fine. They'd keep playing the game.

"'You Keep Me Hanging On'. Favorite flower?"

"You're not gonna ask me mine?"

"I know it already; 'Defying Gravity'."

Rachel was genuinely surprised. "How?"

"It's your favorite song. I remember." She shrugged. "So, flower?"

"Orchids. You?"

"Yellow roses. Wanna know why?"

"Your favorite color is yellow?" she responded dryly.

Quinn smirked. "It didn't always mean what people look at it as now. In olden times, yellow roses symbolized jealousy between lovers and dying relationships. Now, we see it as happy, bright, hopeful. Its color is linked to the sun, so like each dawn, yellow roses represent new life, new beginnings. But it wasn't always that way. I like it because there's a history to it that people don't stop to consider, how things can change, how meaning can take different forms over time. Also, it's my favorite color."

Rachel smiled serenely at her, her brown eyes shining.

"What? I know things. I'm not going to be class valedictorian for nothing."

She gasped indignantly. "My GPA is only .05 behind you, Fabray, don't get too comfortable! All it takes is one misplaced B+ and I'll be the one giving the speech. It's just as well because we both know I'm an incredibly talented public speaker."

"In your dreams.”

"Just you wait!"

"Anymore questions?"

"Just one. Did you really stab Ben Iverson in the leg with a metal fork in junior high?"

Quinn burst out laughing. "I can't believe you remember that!"

"It was quite the scandal. You were suspended, Quinn!"

"For a week."

"So you did do it?"

"No." She shook her head. "Santana did."

"I KNEW IT!" Rachel exclaimed and threw her hands in the air victoriously. "But why? They had to take him to the ER because of how deep it went into his thigh!"

Quinn sobered with a sigh. "He cornered Brittany earlier that day, called her a retard, forced his hand up her skirt. She got away and told Santana, so…"

"I never knew…poor Brittany. That's terrible. I don't understand though, why did you take the fall?"

"Santana had gotten into a lot of fights that year, mostly because she was defending Brittany and occasionally because she's just a bitch. She'd already reached the point where if there was one more violent incident, she'd be expelled. Her parents were already researching military schools. So I just said I did it."

"You risked that for Santana?"

"She's my friend and she was just defending Brit."

"Were your parents upset?"

"Furious. They grounded me for two months. You don't know how grateful I was to get back to school after that endless week suspension. I thought I was going to lose my mind."

"Didn't you tell them what he did?"

"Oh, sure, but it didn't mean anything. The Iversons were part of our church group. It was embarrassing for them. It didn't matter what he did, my parents told me I should have just stayed out of it. It wasn't my business anyway."

She frowned disapprovingly. "I'm proud of you, protecting your friends like that. And I totally knew you didn't do it. It had Santana written all over it."

Quinn chuckled.

"So, anymore questions for me?" Rachel asked.

She pursed her lips and thought for a moment. "Did you really slip Crater Face Fulton tongue behind the dumpster freshman year?"

"NO!" she cried. "That pea brained freak spread the rumor after I politely rejected his advances. I was mortified and no one believed that I didn't kiss him!"

She rambled on about the injustices of her situation and how Crater Face Fulton never got the punishment he deserved for trying to destroy what little reputation she had and Quinn listened to it all. She didn't say anything, but guilt weighed her down as she knew full well her part in helping to fuel the rumors that had made Rachel a laughingstock.

Her thoughts drifted back to a certain day on the playground. Where it all began. When Rachel had transformed from the sweet (albeit loud) brunette that she secretly watched from afar, the one who would share her crayons with her and hum during class work, to the annoying freak who Quinn couldn't stand to even look at without feeling irrationally angry.

"Rachel?"

"Hm?" she answered distractedly, still fuming over Crater Face Fulton.

"You were my first kiss."

Obviously not expecting that sudden change of subject, her eyes widened and she peered at her with such scrutiny that Quinn started to feel extremely uncomfortable. The room was far too quiet.

"You were mine too," she whispered at last.

"I'm sorry I hit you afterwards."

She smiled softly. "I forgave you for that a long time ago, Quinn. Even with the subsequent damage to my nose, I wouldn't change that kiss for the world. I'm glad it was you."

"I would," she said bitterly. "I would change it. I would change it so I didn't get so stupid and scared and hurt you like that. You didn't deserve it. I'm so sorry."

Quinn didn't know why she felt this desperate need to apologize. After so many years, did it really matter anymore? Besides, the many crimes she committed against Rachel over the years were far worse and more damaging than any one punch in the face. Yet, she was overwhelmed in that moment by the need to make the girl understand that she truly did regret what she'd done, not just that, but all of it. All of the rumors, all of the slushies, all of the horrible, hurtful, hateful things she'd ever said and done.

If she were going to start making amends then why not start at the beginning? Maybe it was time she started to admit to herself why she'd been so cruel, why Rachel had been the target, obsessively so, for so long. It had all started with that first kiss. Okay, so she wasn't fully ready to wade into the sweeping apologies and begging forgiveness for everything just yet. But this is where she would start, with honesty.

"I want you to know, that even though I did that, I'm really glad you were my first too."

"I can forgive you again if it would make you feel better?" she offered with a shy smile.

"It would, actually."

She leaned towards her and the brunette tilted her head, expecting a kiss, but Quinn pulled out a box from under the bed and settled back.

"So, Scrabble?"

Rachel lit up excitedly, clapping her hands.

Chapter Text

Nearing the end of their Scrabble game, they were neck and neck, and Rachel was freaking out. Scrabble was her game! How did Quinn manage to compete with her like this? She knew the girl was smart, but she would have thought her extensive vocabulary would have far exceeded Quinn's nonetheless. Yet the blonde was more than holding her own.

Of course, she was extremely competitive by nature, but she hadn't cared so much about their Battleship game since she hardly paid attention to what she was doing. Instead, she'd spent the time going over her carefully laid plans in her head for how to initiate further conversation with Quinn that would deepen their understanding of each other as well as their...whatever.

Scrabble, however, was a different matter entirely! She never lost a game – the undisputed, undefeated Champion of the Berry household starting at the tender age of five. This was one game Quinn would not win.

While Rachel plotted her last word, the blonde grew bored and impatient, meandering over to one of the shelves to look through DVDs.

"You're taking too long! This is not life and death - it's not even chess - it's Scrabble!"

"I'm allowed as much time as I need to consider all possibilities, Quinn! Don't rush me!"

"Next time, we're using a timer," she muttered. "Ugh, are these all the movies you have? Isn't there anything that was filmed in the last thirty years?"

"They're called classics. Don't be so closed-minded, I happen to believe you would greatly enjoy any one of them."

"Do your Dads have anything better?" she whined.

"They have their own collection downstairs, below the TV in the den, now shush! I have to focus."

Exasperated, Quinn went off in search of something more suitable for them to watch, returning ten minutes later with several DVDs in her arms.

"Something to be said for their taste," she remarked. "They've got some awesome-"

"Shhh!"

"You haven't gone yet? Rachel!"

"I'm still thinking," she protested.

"Enough is enough. Go or I'm not playing anymore." She dumped the movies on the bed before sitting back down on the floor.

Frowning deeply, Rachel gave in and put her word down with a dissatisfied huff.

Copulation.

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware we were playing the dirty version. I could have gotten into that."

Rachel rolled her eyes and added up her score, pleased to see that she had finally surged ahead of Quinn enough to make a difference. She would have to find something worth 30 points to beat her.

"No way are you going to win this one, blondie. You may have defeated me in a game of strategy, but this is about verbosity and we all know that's a talent of mine behind only the performing arts and single-minded ambition."

Quinn narrowed her eyes. "Care to make it interesting?"

"A bet?" Rachel perked up eagerly.

"Winner picks the movie."

"Done! You're going to love An Affair to Remember."

She ignored her, pondering over it for a few seconds and then deftly placed her word on the board.

Tantalizing.

The brunette's mouth dropped open.

"So…that's 22, plus the triple word score, plus the points from your words cause I used the 'n' and 't' here, thank you sweetie, which leaves me with 80 points to a grand total of 425, although I should probably get extra for following your 'naughty' theme. Doesn't matter. Devil Wears Prada it is!"

Quinn lifted her eyebrow for that oh-so-familiar HBIC smirk of victory.

Rachel barely resisted the urge to toss the board across the room. She forced Quinn to sit there as she added up the points again just to be sure there was no mistake. It took three separate recalculations and several (twelve) rebuffed demands for a rematch before she had to resign herself to the fact that Quinn did indeed win fair and square.

Then after some (a lot of) reassurance, Quinn managed to pry the dictionary out of girl's hands, while she fiercely protested, insisting that she needed to study as she had obviously grown indolent and complacent if Quinn was able to beat her, which prompted a round of bickering with Quinn wanting to know just what she meant by that.

Finally, they settled in to watch the movie which Rachel really wasn't looking forward to. She thought these kinds of movies were ridiculous. However, about ten minutes later she was the one getting into it, while Quinn was more interested in watching Rachel than the screen.

They were curled up under a blanket on Rachel's bed, resting against pillows and the headboard. There was enough space between them to be considered respectable - only their elbows were grazing - and it was driving Quinn insane. After a few moments of internal debate, she entwined their hands and let them rest on her lap. Rachel smiled but didn't say anything, never taking her eyes off the movie.

Quinn had thought the additional contact would have made it better, but the desire for more only increased. Tracing light circles over the back of her hand, she was mesmerized by the feeling of Rachel's soft skin beneath her fingertips, the butterflies that filled her chest, the way her heart raced, intoxicated by the delicious scent of her shampoo since she was so close, but still much too far. Quinn turned Rachel's hand over and stroked the palm before raking over it lightly with her nails. Rachel bit her lip, but still didn't look her way.

Quinn never thought she could feel like this before, wanting someone so much. She'd felt affection, inklings of attraction, but nothing like this. She'd never desired.

Sometimes she felt like Rachel wasn't just her first kiss, she was her first everything.

After a few minutes more of innocent handholding exploration, she couldn't take it anymore and shifted closer, bringing her body flush against Rachel's side and kissed the sweet spot just below the brunette's ear.

"Quinn," Rachel said a bit breathlessly, "Need I remind you that you're the one who wanted to watch this?"

"Found something better," she replied simply.

Rachel finally turned to face her and Quinn seized the opportunity. Their mouths fused eagerly and the movie was forgotten.

Another weekend spent with Rachel, another Monday with Sam interrogating her about why she never had time for him anymore, another week of sneaking around, and Quinn was lost. She didn't want anything to change and yet she wanted everything to.

She let Sam talk her into a date on Friday night. It wasn't like she really had a choice anyway. They hadn't gone out in ages and if she really intended to keep dating him, that included going on actual dates, right?

She didn't tell Rachel about her plans. What was the point? It would only needlessly upset her and Quinn was not prepared to broach the subject again after the compromise they'd come to in the bathroom that day…too much, too soon.

Instead, she made up an excuse about having to hang with Santana and Brittany. Rachel didn't protest, only appeared slightly disappointed. Quinn wished she could tell her how disappointed she was too.

Sam took her to Color Me Mine. He chose a plate; she chose a coffee mug. He painted their names together in the center, but refused to let her see until the end when he held it up with a shy, goofy sort of smile that made her feel like the worst person in the world.

Quinn painted gold stars.

He took her to the new Mexican restaurant in a neighboring town and they had a good time. In all honesty, Quinn enjoyed spending time with Sam. It's why she started going out with him in the first place. He was sweet and honest and he made her smile. It didn't hurt that he was attractive, had a solidified top position on the football team, social stature, and making out with him was not a hardship. She considered him a real friend, if nothing else.

But even when laughing at a joke he made or them aimlessly chatting with him about what was going on in school or Glee club, Quinn couldn't keep her mind off a certain brunette. She wasn't miserable being with Sam, she was miserable being without Rachel. There was also that nagging part where the entire basis of her relationship with him was a lie…and she was cheating on him. That didn't help.

Sam brought her home. Her Mom was out, and they settled onto the couch to watch a movie they had picked up on the way back.

"Is everything okay with you?" he asked as they sat next to each other with a good distance between them, as in not touching in the least.

"Of course," she answered lightly, "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Well, I gotta say I've been trying really hard these last few weeks not to get paranoid."

Oh, no. Please don't do this. Please don't start.

"I mean, when we're together, you always seem like you're somewhere else. And you're not even around much anymore. This is the first night we've gone out in weeks. I don't wanna be this whiny, clingy guy who has to beg his girl just to hang with him once in a while…and I feel like you're turning me into that. Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me? Just tell me and I'll fix it somehow."

She forced a smile. That sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach was getting worse. "No, I'm not mad at you. I swear. I've just been busy, that's all. And we're together right now, aren't we? We had fun tonight."

"Did we? Cause you didn't seem to."

"I like spending time with you, Sam," she said honestly. "I'm sorry if I've made you feel like I don't."

"But there's something going on," he pressed. "You've been acting differently. If it's not me, then what is it?"

"There's nothing," she said firmly. "We're going to watch the movie now."

He grumbled something inaudibly, but sat back and crossed his arms in resignation. Quinn felt guilt mixed with relief as she reached for the remote.

"Turn off the light?" she asked as he moved closer.

He got up to hit the switch, blanketing them in darkness except for the screen's glow. As Quinn went to the menu screen and hit play, she realized that he hadn't returned to his seat. Looking over wonderingly, the lights went back on. Sam was already heading for the coat rack to get his jacket.

"I'm not in the mood for a movie," he said crossly.

"What? Why? I even let you pick it out this time! It's not like I'm dying to see aliens chase the human race into extinction."

"Just not in the mood," he repeated. "I think I'm gonna call it a night. See you later."

"Sam!" she said in disbelief, stumbling off the couch. "Sam, wait, don't go. Why are you so upset?"

"I'm not." He shrugged, but his body language screamed otherwise. "Night, Quinn."

He was out the door before she could say another word, without so much as a kiss goodbye.

Quinn really had no idea what to do now. She, of course, expected to face some fierce inquiries from the boy about her absentee behavior, but nothing to this extent. Sam was always pretty easy going and entirely too gullible. He usually believed everything she said.

But she might have pushed him too far this time. It was a hole Quinn wasn't sure she could get out of.

Did she even want out of it? Wouldn't she have tried harder to convince him and make him feel better if this relationship were what she really wanted?

Shutting off the TV, she trudged up the stairs to her room and wondered if she should call Rachel. That was something she wanted, whether or not she was going to do it…

Dammit. That girl couldn't have been more right. She was still trying to make herself want all the things that her parents taught her to. Why bother denying it at this point? It wasn't even hidden thoughts and longing anymore. It was real; it was happening, and still she was trying to straddle the nonexistent line - hurting people in the process.

She needed to make this decision once and for all. Rachel didn't understand the full extent of what Quinn was facing, she had it so much easier, but that wasn't an excuse. Even if she couldn't be publically open about…who she is…she could still be honest with herself. The world didn't have to know. Quinn had to know.

She picked up her cell and scrolled to Rachel's name, her thumb hovering over the send button for a moment before she just put it back down.

Not right now.

Deciding it was late enough, and she did have to be up early for Saturday practice tomorrow, she was about to undress for bed, when suddenly her door was thrown open.

"What are you doing?" she cried, looking at an extremely disheveled and angry Sam.

"I've been sitting in my truck for the last ten minutes trying to talk myself out of this, trying to believe you, trying to find any way I can to understand this, but I can't, Quinn!"

"Sam, wha-"

"You're cheating on me," he said flatly.

"No, I'm not."

The answer was so automatic and instinctive that she didn't have to think about it for the words to fly out.

"Yes, you are," he replied determinedly. "The lying's gonna stop right now. I don't deserve this crap! I'm pretty, but I ain't dumb. Tell me the truth. Admit it once and for all! Are you cheating?"

The words weren't coming anymore. She could only stare at him.

He took a shuddering breath and nodded as if she had actually answered, tugging his hands through already messy hair. "Right. Who is it? Does he go to our school? Is it Finn? Puck? Who?"

"It doesn't matter," she said faintly.

"THE HELL IT DOESN'T!"

She flinched. Sam never raised his voice to her. In fact, she didn't think she'd heard him yell ever.

"Tell me who the guy is! I have a right to know. You owe me at least that much!"

"I can't-"

He stormed into the room further, angry, but not out of control. She knew he was upset and it hurt her heart to know that she was the cause. She wasn't afraid of Sam, but she was afraid of what was about to happen.

"Tell-me-who-he-is," he said through gritted teeth. "Fuck, Quinn! You've been playing me for a sap and you don't even have the decency to be honest even now after you've been caught in your lies? TELL ME WHO HE IS!"

Hearing the rage in his voice, the voice of a sweet boy who'd been nothing but kind to her, had Quinn wallowing in despair. She'd brought this out in him. Then there was the pain in his eyes. She'd done that too. She'd taken him in and turned him upside down with no other thought than for her own purposes.

'Who cares about him?' she'd said to Rachel. 'He's nothing.'

As Quinn watched him now, angry, trembling, and so completely devastated, she realized how wrong she was. Who cared about him? She cared. She'd treated him like nothing. But he wasn't nothing.

"Rachel," she whispered.

Sam closed his eyes in exasperation and scrubbed his face hard. "What about Rachel?" he snapped impatiently.

"It's Rachel," she said again, louder this time.

He still wasn't getting it though.

"What is Rachel? What are you talking about?"

Oh for…

"You asked me who it is and I'm telling you! I've been cheating on you with Rachel!"

He stared at her dumbly. "Rachel's a girl's name."

She felt like smacking him.

"Yes, Sam," she replied in a tightly controlled voice, "Rachel Berry."

"Y-you've been cheating on me w-with Rachel Berry?" he stammered. "A girl? Quinn! Are you seriously telling me you're…you're…"

"I'm gay."

And whatever semblance of control she'd been holding on to in the last few minutes, finally gave way. She burst out sobbing in the worst of ways. It was the painful kind, and it hurt her chest and burned her eyes.

She didn't even have the strength to stand anymore and fell against the wall, sliding to the floor. Her body was not her own as she cried violently into her hands. It took her some time to realize that there was someone else sitting beside her, arms around her shoulders, soft whispers of reassurance against her ear.

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed and the arms around her tightened and Quinn threw herself into his embrace, burying her head against his shoulder.

She wasn't sure how long she went on like that. All she knew was that she cried for so long, she didn't have tears anymore. It was just wracking sobs that hurt with each and every expansion of her lungs. He had his arms wrapped so fiercely around her, it was like he was afraid to let go.

Slowly, her breathing began to even out once more. She only shuddered every now and then, and then she wasn't crying anymore. She stayed there like that, quiet, enveloped in Sam's strong arms. Even though every part of her ached, both physically and otherwise, and he'd just witnessed something she never let anyone see before in her life, Quinn was grateful to have him there.

She didn't want to be alone anymore.

"When did you put that hole in your wall?" he asked out of the blue.

It was oddly jarring to hear his voice again after such a prolonged silence. Quinn had to repeat what he said in her head twice before she even understood the question. From where they were sitting, Sam had a direct line of sight to the small hole she'd tried to cover up by putting a waste basket in front of it. He must have knocked it out of the way when he ran in.

"Few weeks ago," she replied hoarsely.

"Hurt your foot?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "How did you know?"

"That you kicked it? I'm a guy. I'm an expert on holes in the wall. We make them often enough."

"What am I gonna do?" she whispered. "God, Sam…"

"You're going to be fine," he whispered back, never letting his hold slacken.

The panic bubbled up in her. FINE? It wasn't going to be FINE! Her life was over! She was ruined! She'd just admitted the one thing she could never be and what would become of her now? She'd lost everything.

"No! I can't be this way!" she shrieked and pushed against him until he let her break away. "I'll… Don't you get what will happen to me? You've met my parents, Sam! You've heard the kind of stuff they say. My mother may have been able to get over the teen pregnancy thing, but this? If she finds out that I'm… I'll be kicked out again! They'll disown me. I'll have nothing. I'll be a waitress at Breadstix, no future to speak of, forever a Lima loser. That is if Daddy doesn't have me run out of town. I can't be like this! It's wrong! Why am I so unbelievably screwed up?"

"Quinn!" he said in disbelief. "There is nothing wrong with you." Sam got on his knees in front of her and put his hands on either side of her face so that she would look at him. "We don't get to choose who we love," he said softly. "Just take me. Apparently, I fell in love with a girl who only likes other girls. You think I would have picked that? You're so amazing, Quinn. You're smart, beautiful, talented, and one of the best people I know. No matter what your parents say, love is love, and you should never be ashamed of that."

If she had tears left, she would have been crying again, but instead she just pulled him back into her arms and let him hold her. Sam sighed and gathered her closer, resting his cheek against the top of her head.

After a minute, he muttered, "You know…I just got dumped by my girlfriend who was cheating on me and yet I'm the one doing the comforting here? Somehow I think we got this backwards."

Her stomach twinged with guilt and she lifted her head up forlornly, only to see teasing eyes looking back.

"I don't know if it's supposed to make me feel better or worse that you're chucking me for a girl…"

It was unsettling to hear him talk about this so casually when it meant just about the end of the world for her. Yet, it somehow felt right too.

"Both?" she replied with a hopeful shrug.

"Yep," he nodded and rubbed her shoulder lightly, "that's pretty much what it feels like. Probably should be better though, right? Cause it means there's nothing I can do. I mean, I can't change into a girl, can I? If it had been another dude…then there's something I could have done to hold on to you, but this way…" He trailed off with a shake of his head.

"I really care about you, Sam. Tell me you know that."

"I know that."

She wasn't sure if she believed him.

"It's gonna be okay, you know."

"I know."

She wasn't sure if she believed herself either.

He heaved a sigh. "Look, since you just dumped me and all, for a chick no less, I'm gonna need some space for a while, just to sort my head out and do some majorly dumb guy-type stuff to boost my totally wrecked self confidence, but…" He looked at her with a sad sort of smile. "I want you to know that I still would like to be your friend – if that's cool."

"Really?" she said in disbelief, sitting up out of his arms. "You'd still want to…even after what I did?"

"After some space," he clarified again, "but yeah. I really care about you. Rather have us be friends than nothing."

And she thought there were no more tears left. She had to wipe away the ones rolling down her cheek at this boy's extraordinary kindness. How could she not have known what she had? How could she have been so blind?

Don't answer that.

Sam was hesitant to leave, but after numerous reassurances from Quinn and an airtight promise from him never to repeat a word of what happened tonight, he reluctantly let himself be led to the door. She was sure she still looked a mess, puffy eyes and all, but it didn't matter. A weight had lifted off her shoulders. She didn't exactly feel better for it, but she did feel lighter. He opened the door, but then turned around to pull her back into his arms for a bear hug.

How did he always know when to hug her at just the right time? He'd always been able to do that. She never realized it before.

"Thank you," she murmured as he let go. "For…everything."

"See you around, Quinn." He gave her a little half smile and went down the front steps. She watched him get into his truck and drive away before closing the door.

She avoided Rachel for the rest of the weekend.

Chapter Text

It felt like the longest weekend of her life and not in a good way. She'd spent it in her bed, staring at the ceiling, sometimes out the window, sometimes the clock, and for a good half hour, the hole in her wall. Maybe if she just stayed in her room long enough, the world would right itself by the time she left it. No such luck. There was school to contend with.

She should be feeling better. She'd admitted her darkest secret aloud. She'd ended things on an actually decent note with Sam. She was free to be with Rachel without having a boyfriend adding to her guilt. But she didn't feel better.

Rachel had texted exactly once and called exactly once, leaving exactly one voicemail that Quinn listened to more times than she would ever admit. It was stupid how disappointed she was. Why should she expect a barrage of texts, phone calls, emails, even Indian smoke signals, from the girl? Why did she think she might have to turn off her phone for the entire weekend just so that it wouldn't burn out from Rachel's endless onslaught? Why did it hurt that she didn't get any of that at all?

Finn used to complain about how often Rachel would text him throughout the day and call him several times a night. She remembered overhearing him say to the brunette that she was smothering him. At the time, she'd felt kind of bad for her, but also a great deal of satisfaction knowing that their relationship wasn't all sunshine and puppy dogs as they tried to make it seem. She'd convinced herself that the satisfaction, the happiness actually, was because Rachel was getting what she deserved for stealing Finn from her. The reality was something else entirely.

An entire weekend had gone by without Quinn contacting her once and all she got was one missed call? One text message saying 'Hi, Quinn. How was your day?' That was it? THAT WAS IT?

It was that, more than anything else, that weighed on her as she walked into school Monday.

Was she going overboard with this whole thing? Rachel didn't seem nearly as affected by Quinn as Quinn was by her. What if Rachel really didn't feel that much for her? What if she still loved Finn? What if she still wanted Finn and Quinn was just a distraction from her broken heart? She could easily be a rebound, particularly since their whole thing started immediately after he'd broken up with her.

Let's be honest.

She'd preyed on Rachel's vulnerability at the time and used it to her advantage. She hadn't wanted to comfort her - at least it wasn't her direct intention - she'd wanted something and she took it, knowing Rachel would let her.

It really sucked actually caring about these things now. Quinn couldn't count how many times in a day she wished she could go back to what she'd been before that night in Rachel's bedroom. Then she would feel sick at the thought of being that person again, because that person didn't get to cuddle with Rachel on her bed, or beat Rachel at Scrabble, or have Rachel smiling at her so brilliantly she felt she just might melt to nothing.

Why couldn't Rachel feel the way she did? It wasn't fair. It was like their roles had been swapped and no one told her. She was the one head over heels while Rachel was just dragging along. Forget the repercussions of what she'd told Sam. Forget what she'd admitted to. Forget everything. It just hurt so much she could hardly breathe sometimes. She hated it. She really, really hated it.

Quinn had just closed her locker when Sam came up, his backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Hey," he greeted hesitantly, "um…we still on for that friends thing?"

She raised an eyebrow questioningly. "What happened to you needing space and time to do stupid manly type things? Sorry, but a weekend is not enough time to get over me. I'm at least six months, several drunken coyote nights, and a seven pound weight gain around the gut worthy."

Sam chuckled and leaned against the lockers.

"No, it's not enough time, not even close," he admitted, gazing at her meaningfully, "but after thinking about it these past couple days…you need a friend more than I need the space. So, uh, here I am." He held up his hands with a small smile.

Quinn threw herself into his arms without even thinking about it. It had been purely instinctive. She was doing that a lot lately. She'd never been like this before. Every move she made was with precise calculation (the disastrous event with Puck notwithstanding). She just wasn't holding back so much anymore. It was freeing, but at the same time absolutely terrifying. Sam hugged her back tightly and she couldn't help but feel grateful for how safe he could make her feel.

"Why couldn't I have fallen in love with you?" she said, muffled by his shoulder.

He smelled good too. Sam always did. It was another thing she liked about him. He never went overboard with the cologne like Puck or "forget" to shower for a few days in a row like Finn. Sam smelled like Sam, freshly shampooed hair and slightly sweet, like coconut. She liked it, but she liked the way Rachel smelled so much more. The comparison was nonexistent.

"Been asking myself that same question," he groaned and leaned his head against hers affectionately. "But…I guess that means you're in love with a certain someone else then?"

Quinn was stunned. Her heart lurched in her chest as her throat contracted painfully and she stepped away from him with wide eyes. "That's ridiculous."

She sounded strange.

Sam gave her a look. "Why else would you be this crazy, weepy mess?"

"Shut up," she hissed through gritted teeth.

They were not going to talk about that, not now, not ever. Because that just wasn't happening. That wasn't what this was.

He relented and shrugged. "Whatever you need, Quinn. Just let me know."

"Thank you," she sighed, feeling a modicum of guilt for reacting so harshly when all he was trying to do was help. "Because I really do need a friend."

"And you have one. Now, cheer up, Fabray. You're beautiful. You got your back-up support. You're the head cheerleader, not to mention the most popular girl in school. Everything's gonna be just fine. The world is still here." He cupped her cheeks before kissing her chastely on the mouth. "Okay?"

She smiled for the first time since their Friday night encounter. "Sam Evans?"

"Hm?"

"You're the best guy I know."

"Yeah," he shrugged, "it really sucks sometimes."

He wasn't joking and she knew it.

Giving his hand a grateful squeeze, which was all she could do besides thank him again, he walked off, and she sighed in relief. Somehow just knowing that Sam was in her corner, as a friend, something she'd never really considered boys to be before, made her feel better. She felt like she wasn't as alone in this anymore.

Now, she really wanted to see Rachel. They had to talk. She had to know for certain where the brunette was about them because she couldn't take anymore of this if they weren't on the same page. God, she really hoped she was wrong about the other girl's feelings. Because if she wasn't…well…her stomach rolled at the thought. Sam hadn't really been so far from the truth. Actually, if she really let it in, he was entirely spot on.

Of course, Quinn wasn't about to go there just yet.

As she went off to her first class she had no idea that Rachel had been just down the hall the whole time watching them.

Quinn looked for her all day. Rachel wasn't even in the few classes they shared together and she started to get worried. That girl never missed school! She had a perfect attendance record. She once came in with the flu and only went home after school officials physically forced her to for public health reasons. Even then, she'd refused until they agreed to mark down that she'd attended the full day. There's no way she would go so far to avoid Quinn as to skip class, right?

She had to clamp her jaw shut almost painfully when she saw Kurt, Mercedes, and Tina in the hall to refrain from asking them if they knew where Rachel was. She'd been so close to letting it slip…

By the end of the day, Quinn had typed and deleted ten different texts to Rachel, too chicken to send any of them, but swore to herself that if the girl wasn't in Glee, that was it, she was calling her, to hell with it all.

Quinn was antsy sitting in the choir room as everyone slowly started filing in. When Mr. Schuester walked in and there was no Rachel in sight, she started rummaging for her phone. Just a few moments later, however, Rachel slipped in behind Mr. Schuester who was talking about some assignment, but Quinn wasn't listening.

The brunette avoided even the slightest glance in her direction and, in what appeared to be a very calculated move, seated herself on the opposite side of the room, as far away from Quinn as she could possibly get.

Oddly, Quinn was relieved. She was just glad Rachel was okay and not sick or anything. Now she understood. The girl was mad at her for the silent weekend. Good. Okay. That she could handle.

Really, she wasn't worried about Rachel being upset. She could explain it away well enough, and knew it would make her happy to know she'd ended things with Sam, particularly when she got to the part where she explained why they had broken up.

So with that distressing mystery finally figured out, Quinn's thoughts reverted back to the events of Friday night. She'd meant it when she thought about how grateful she was to have Sam as a friend, but…there were moments she'd just catch herself and think 'how is this happening to me?' She'd broken up with her adoring boyfriend, whom she genuinely liked, not because she wanted another guy, but because she wanted another girl.

Still, Quinn had fleeting thoughts that it was all just in her head. She wasn't really like this. She didn't like girls that way. She didn't want Rachel. She was straight as could be and this was only a fleeting period of confusion. Of course, those thoughts never lasted for more than a millisecond because, seriously, whom was she fooling? The rest of the world maybe, but not herself, not anymore. And not Rachel. And not Sam…which could prove to be an enormous mistake on her part.

She cringed at the memory, having come out to her boyfriend in a sobbing, pathetic mess. It's not that Sam wasn't a good guy, and she was positive he would never tell anyone, she just still felt uneasy about someone seeing her like that. It didn't fit the image. It didn't fit her. Sure, she'd cried in front of people before, but that was different. Those were normal tears or crocodile tears if necessary. What Sam saw…that was something else.

"Ahem, Quinn?" Mr. Schuester said expectantly and she looked up at him blankly.

He seemed to be waiting for something.

Maybe she should have been paying closer attention.

What Quinn had obliviously missed out on was Mr. Schuester's speech about how he was so impressed by their performances in the duets competition, how it had even given them a pairing that won Sectionals, that they were going to do it again. However, this time he would be picking names from a hat and the name picked would get to choose their partner. The only requirement was that it had to be someone they hadn't partnered with before.

The purpose of this was to experiment with everyone's voices and see if they could produce unexpectedly good results with different voice pairings. Also, same as last time, the winners got two coupons to Breadstix. Santana was practically foaming at the mouth, still bitter about having been beaten out by Barbie and Ken just for the 'charm' factor.

Apparently, Quinn's name was pulled first, which she was completely unaware of as she was lost in a tumultuous world of her own as she tried to figure out just what the hell she was doing with her life.

"You're up first. Who do you want to partner with? Remember, it can't be anyone you've paired with before."

"Rachel," she said absently, still not really paying attention.

Everyone in the club, including Rachel, looked at her in wide-eyed disbelief. Actually, Sam was the only one who didn't. He stared at the floor.

Finally noticing that something was off, Quinn turned to see all the gawking faces looking back at her.

"WHAT?" she barked. "I want a free dinner!"

Seeming to accept that excuse, everyone relaxed a bit, though still bewildered, and Mr. Schue went on calling out names. Rachel turned away again, glancing up at Sam in the back for a fleeting second and didn't look at her for the rest of Glee.

The brunette was one of the first people to walk out, forcing Quinn to chase after her. She was a little more than surprised that the diva hadn't jumped on her immediately to start planning their upcoming performance, even if she was upset, so that made her significantly more wary. Perhaps she shouldn't have underestimated the depth of Rachel's anger.

She caught up to her in an empty hallway, calling her name. Rachel never shortened her stride, but Quinn caught up easily with her longer legs. She seemed to have expected it because the moment Quinn fell in beside her, Rachel launched into a rushed speech that conveniently didn't allow the other girl to get a word in edgewise.

"I'll compose a list of appropriate songs from various genres that will suit as well as exhibit both our vocal ranges and send it to you this evening, from which you will then choose your preference."

She had a look on her face that dared Quinn to argue, which she had no intention of doing even though Rachel was flat out telling her what song they were going to sing.

"We will have to practice more than usual considering we've never performed together and are so unaccustomed. You'll have to do some work on your vocals; you tend to be a bit pitchy at times and need to boost your range."

Quinn tamped down on the hot rush of blood through her veins that would usually have her launch into a fight with the brunette because now was exactly the wrong time to debate her vocal talent. Instead, she just bit the inside of her cheek.

"I'll devise a schedule as well. We'll use the choir room during lunch and the auditorium after your Cheerios practice. We have a week to prepare so that should be enough time if we discipline ourselves."

She meant if Quinn disciplined herself. The blonde bit her bottom lip this time, close to drawing blood.

"Okay."

Not once, in all that time, did Rachel look at her.

"Good," she replied curtly, "Now I have to go. Daddy's picking me up."

"Rachel, I-"

"I can't be late. He gets cranky if I make him wait."

"Rachel…"

"Check your email tonight. I expect a prompt answer so as to have time to prepare and arrange the song accordingly for our first run through tomorrow."

"Rachel…"

"Goodbye, Quinn."

They had just walked down the front steps of the school and Rachel looked both ways before making her way across the parking lot, presumably to the place where she met her Dad to make the pick up easier.

Quinn knew she expected that to be the end of it and to leave her in the dust, but she was hardly about to let that happen. So, she stayed right next to her, which made Rachel look a bit worried, but still she didn't fully glance in Quinn's direction.

"Are you going to let me talk now?"

She didn't say anything, which Quinn took as a yes.

"I need to tell you something."

"I already know, so there's no need," she replied briskly.

Quinn was, understandably, bewildered. There was no way Rachel could know about what had occurred between her and Sam, unless the boy opened his freakishly large mouth, which she sincerely doubted. Like he said, he was pretty, but he wasn't dumb. So what was she talking about?

"You know about what?"

"You and Sam. Really, Quinn, it's fine, and I would greatly appreciate it if we could just leave it at that. I thank you for the gesture of choosing me to be your partner in this assignment as some sort of conciliatory measure, but it was quite unnecessary."

Quinn was flabbergasted. "Y-you know about Sam? How?" She shook her head. That bottle blonde was a dead man walking. DEAD. "And if you know then why…"

Rachel had apparently reached the meeting spot, on the far side of the parking lot, behind the buses, because she stopped short and finally looked at her.

"On second thought, though I, of course, would like to retain a friendly relationship with you regardless, our situation is rather muddled at the moment so perhaps it would be best for us both if we were to switch partners."

Okay. Quinn was really confused now, not to mention increasingly frightened.

"I don't get it. If you know… I thought that's what you wanted! I thought it would make you happy. Why are you…"

She couldn't say 'breaking up with me' because they weren't dating in the official sense, or any sense, but that's what it felt like.

Rachel chuckled bitterly. "Oh, it's a dream come true. Thank you, Quinn. I wish you all the happiness in the world. Now kindly leave me be!"

She couldn't believe this was happening. It was just too much. She'd just done one of the hardest things she would ever do in her life and now Rachel wanted nothing to do with her? In that moment, Quinn realized she was more afraid of not being able to be with her than she was of being outed to the world.

That was saying something.

"Rachel!" she cried, the panic bubbling over. "I broke up with him! I told him about us! Like you wanted! Is that what you're saying here? Y-you don't want…it?"

Now it was the other girl's turn to look stunned.

"Y-you broke up with Sam?"

"YES!" Quinn said exasperatedly. "I've been trying to find you all day. You weren't even in class."

The brunette looked a bit embarrassed as she lowered her head. "I…had unexpected, debilitating bouts of vertigo and was forced to miss several classes whilst sequestered in the nurse's office…" she muttered.

"I'm sure," she replied dryly, not believing a word of it. "I thought you said you knew about Sam and me."

"When did you break up with him?" Rachel asked all of a sudden with a frown, ignoring her.

She shrugged, not knowing why the specific time mattered. "Friday night."

Such disappointment and hurt washed over the other girl's face that had Quinn completely at a loss. She didn't know whether to comfort Rachel or protect her own breaking heart. This was not how she thought this would go! There were supposed to be enormous smiles, squeals of joy, ducking away for kisses, and Quinn (painfully) having to remind her that even with this change, going public was out of the question.

Rachel should not be looking angry and near tears as if Quinn had just smashed her beloved pink bedazzled microphone to pieces.

"You're lying," she choked out. "I knew you had a propensity for cruelty, Quinn Fabray, but this has undoubtedly propelled you to a new low."

"What?" she replied hoarsely. "What are y- It's the truth! I wouldn't do that to you."

"You've done plenty to me," she said coldly. "And I think I've had just about enough. I saw you kissing in the hallway this morning. Don't deny it. Save us both the trouble of such futility; you'd only embarrass yourself. I understand that you've recommitted yourself to your boyfriend, which is obviously the reason for your absence this weekend, and have tired of your experimentation with me, but what I cannot fathom is what you wish to gain by perpetuating such obvious falsities that would only serve to mislead and grotesquely hurt my feelings. Is that really what you had in mind all this time? Was it just a joke at my expense? Another opportunity to crush me as you have always been so blindly determined to do?"

"I told him I was gay!"

The words were pouring out before she could even think to stop them. Her mouth and brain had ceased to connect in that moment as she rambled in a dire panic.

"He knew I was cheating on him and he wanted to know who. So I told him. He deserved to know and, yeah, he was really hurt. I sort of had a meltdown afterwards, I-I'd never said that before, and he was… really good to me, even though I just broke his heart. He offered to be my friend even though I was a total bitch to him. Guess I look pathetic enough to need it. That's what you saw in the hallway, Sam offering his friendship. Nothing more. The kiss was just that, between friends."

She took a deep breath, now feeling entirely humiliated by the outburst. She shouldn't have said so much. Had Rachel's lack of filter become contagious somehow? Quinn never talked like that. She looked away awkwardly for a few moments before finally getting up the courage to face the other girl again.

"You're gay?" Rachel whispered in shock.

…Was that a joke? Was she joking? No, she wasn't joking. That was not a joking face.

At first, Quinn didn't have the slightest idea how to respond and just stared at her agape. She sincerely wondered in that moment if she had made a disastrous mistake of confusing fantasy with reality. Had she just imagined the entire thing with Rachel and now reality was taking over again?

The brunette seemed to recover from her disoriented state, seeing Quinn's complete spiral, and pulled herself together. "Oh, no, no, I didn't mean it like that! It's just…I thought you were," she lowered her voice discreetly, "bisexual…you know, taking into consideration the fact that you've had several relationships with the opposite sex and even engaged in intercourse with a boy."

Quinn grimaced at the memory and even more so at Rachel bringing it up. Her one night stand with Puck was something she never thought about if she could help it, for more reasons than one.

"I just didn't think…"

"Well, I am, okay?" she snapped, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment. She'd come this far. Why stop now? If she thought she was red in the face before…

Quinn had never considered the possibility of her being bisexual. Partly because she always thought it was a crock, a layover on the way to Gayville. Pick a side and stick to it. There was no gray in sexuality. You either liked guys or you liked girls. That's how it worked.

However, the real reason that she never considered it, was that she knew deep down the way Rachel made her feel was so astoundingly beyond anything she'd experienced before, and not just emotionally, but the pure physicality of it.

It finally made sense to her now why it had always been so easy to put off all her old boyfriend's advances for even that extra little 'something something'. It'd never been difficult to stop in the middle of whatever they were doing if she felt they were crossing her definitively placed boundaries into something too handsy for her liking. It was why she always thought boys so radically different from girls in their desire for sex, just plain horndogs as she had always been taught, and that girls simply didn't possess those feelings in their biological makeup. Additionally, it was why she never understood Brittany and Santana's nonexistent self control. Then Rachel happened.

Well, she understood now. She really…really understood.

"What about you?" Quinn asked awkwardly. "Are you…bi?"

She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

"I believe so," Rachel replied matter-of-factly. "I seem to harbor a sincere attraction to both sexes."

Yeah, she definitely didn't want to know that.

Of course Quinn could always count on her to be practical and definitive about this sort of thing. This was the one, after all, who'd come into the Celibacy Club and announced so brazenly that girls wanted sex just as much as boys. She'd been both scandalized and secretly excited by the thought of Rachel Berry wanting sex.

It bothered her much more than she let on that the diva admitted to desiring other people, however vague and indirect it had been. It was absurd, and of course entirely unrealistic, to expect that she wouldn't be attracted to other people, yet the fact remained that she didn't want Rachel desiring anyone else…ever.

"It isn't altogether surprising considering my musical fluidity. It feels only natural to have my openness and confidence to be equally transcendent in sexual desires. It's not the gender, Quinn," she murmured. "It's the person."

There was so much to take in from those few sentences that she didn't have a clue what to deal with first. Her distinct arousal at hearing Rachel talk about sexual desires or the assertion that perhaps there really was only one person she was thinking of. Rachel's pointed underlying tone did not escape her. All she had to do was believe it.

"You really broke up with him?" she asked softly.

Well, it was more of the other way around but it wasn't necessary for Quinn to compound that point at the moment so she just nodded.

Rachel's eyes searched hers for the truth that she really did want to believe.

"I-I thought…"

"You thought wrong," she said coolly.

"Why didn't you call me?"

"I needed space."

The brunette didn't like that answer. "But if you were upset, I could have helped. I-I could have been there for you."

She shook her head and looked over the shorter girl's shoulder to the fence at the back - anything to avoid eye contact.

"I kind of had a mini-breakdown - which you were basically the reason for. You don't call the reason for the breakdown while you're…"

"…breaking down?" she supplied for her with a hint of amusement.

Quinn sighed with a slight roll of her eyes. "Yeah."

"So, what does this mean for us then?"

"I don't know," she answered honestly and took a deep breath. "But…I'm not with Sam anymore."

Rachel didn't say anything for a few long moments, during which Quinn felt like she was assuredly losing her mind.

"Okay," she said at last with a tremulous smile that just bordered on hopeful and nodded. "You're not with Sam."

Chapter Text

True to her word, Rachel put the finishing touches on a list of song choices for them to perform for the duet competition and was just about to send them to Quinn, when her cell rang. Seeing the girl's name on her caller ID brought such an enormous smile to her face it almost hurt. After having been utterly resigned to the worst after the weekend and seeing Quinn with Sam Monday morning, Rachel was still reeling from their conversation in the parking lot earlier.

She knew it wasn't everything she could have hoped for, but it was more than she ever believed she'd get. They were proceeding tentatively for now, but it didn't matter. Quinn broke up with Sam. She openly admitted to her sexuality. She was calling Rachel right now.

Giddy, she held the phone up to her ear.

"Hi! I was just going to send you-"

Quinn interrupted her. "I picked a song, and as an apology for your not so underhanded insults regarding my vocal abilities, you're going to go along with it."

"What? Wait! No! We need to discuss this! What did you have in mind?"

"Nope. Not telling. I'll bring in the music tomorrow and we'll go through it at lunch."

"Quinn," she said warily, "I don't think I can agree to this. What if I don't like the song?"

"I didn't ask if you liked it, I said you were going to do it. Don't be so uptight, Berry. I'm not going to make you rap or anything."

She gasped, horrified. "I didn't even get that far in my thought process!"

"It'll be fine," she reassured her. "Trust me."

"Trust you? With music? You do realize to whom you are speaking? I don't ever allow-"

"I'm going to bed. See you tomorrow."

"QUINN!"

"Don't make me turn off my phone," she warned, knowing that if she hung up, Rachel would blow it up for hours just to try to continue this conversation.

"Fine," she huffed, "but I retain full rights to veto this particular selection if it is not to my taste."

"No rights. Just deal with it. Good night."

Rachel ground her teeth, knowing she had to concede defeat and breathed in deeply a few times before calming herself. She lay down on her bed, eyes on the ceiling.

"Sweet dreams, Quinn," she murmured.

There was a pause before she heard a soft, breathy reply that had her tingling to the very tips of her toes.

"Maybe I'll get to dream about you."

Her heart hammered in her chest at the thought of Quinn actually dreaming about her.

"Be sure to let me know every detail if you do," she said flirtatiously.

"I'll write it down."

The seductive, coy tone in Quinn's voice that had her breathing harder at just the sound of it had vanished and Rachel was more than a little disappointed. "Are you being facetious?"

"I'm sleeping, is what I am."

"You talk in your sleep?"

She heard a yawn. "Apparently."

"Quinn?"

"Hm?"

"Stay with me awhile?"

"Okay."

Quinn walked down the halls the next morning feeling better than she had in a long time.

It was strange.

She was petrified that someone would see her and just know - that it was stamped across her forehead somehow. Soon the whole school would know, then the town. And it would be a thousand times worse than anything she endured during her knocked up period. Her out of wedlock, teen pregnancy was shameful, but this was entirely different. It wasn't some drunken, one-time mistake. It was who she was.

She'd always been this way, Quinn was starting to see that now, but she'd never let herself accept it before. She could deny it back then with the utmost conviction, but not anymore, not when these thoughts consumed her, not when she fell asleep to Rachel's soft breathing on the phone and woke up to her voice in the morning. She'd never done that with anyone before. She'd never wanted to.

Now it was all different. She'd have to be careful. No one else could know. If it ever got out…she couldn't bear to think of it. If she were really smart, she would end this thing with Rachel now before it got any further and then she'd never have to risk being exposed. If there was something Quinn knew how to do, it was to keep a secret.

But she wanted Rachel too much.

So she was going to risk it, praying that they would be careful enough. Her future depended upon it.

Even with all this weighing on her, Quinn still walked through the school feeling good - like she was finally getting something right. It was terrifying. It was wonderful. It was nerve-wracking. It was exciting. It was awful. It was everything. She just had to find a way to deal with it all.

Approaching her locker, she saw something curiously out of place. There was something tucked into the slots of the vent. When she got closer, a smile graced her lips and her heart swelled.

It was a yellow rose.

She drew it out, seeing that it wasn't entirely yellow, the tips of the petals at the center were tinged with a deep red. Did the girl know what that meant? She scoffed. Of course she did. Knowing Rachel, she had researched it meticulously to an obsessive degree.

When she opened her locker, she found a note, just two words, unsigned, but clearly in Rachel's handwriting.

New beginnings.

Grinning from ear to ear, Quinn touched the flower to her nose and inhaled the delicate fragrance. She didn't think anyone had ever done something so thoughtful and romantic like that for her before. Actually, she knew that for sure. Sam may have proposed to her, but this was different. This wasn't some grand gesture - it was just someone showing how well she knew her, how she had listened, how she wanted to show that she listened, how she cared, how she wanted it too. It was perfect.

Unfortunately, her moment ended when Santana popped up beside her.

"Flower from fish lips?" she snorted in disgust. "Why not just pass me the ipecac and consider it a job well done?"

"And who gave you permission to speak to me?" she snapped, but it was without its usual vigor.

Really, she was hardly paying attention to her. She didn't care. Santana was not registering on the radar right now. Quinn had more important things to deal with.

"Q! I'm hurt! We're friendlies, aren't we? I know we haven't always been on the best of terms, seeing as how you stabbed me in the back to make your own pathetic climb to the top again, but let's let bygones be bygones."

She rummaged through the locker for her books, careful to hide the note from Rachel underneath her things discreetly. "What do you want?"

"The scoop," she replied simply. "Berry. What's your plan? I know you've got some seriously effed up things swirling around in that pretty little blonde head of yours and I wants in on the game."

"I really don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play dumb, chica, leave that to your boytoy. There's no way in hell you'd be letting yourself get within five feet of that psychotic bumblebee if you didn't have a master plan that involved squashing her beneath your heel, never to fly again."

Quinn lifted a curious eyebrow at that. "Bumblebee?"

Santana merely rolled her eyes and jerked a thumb behind her to where, sure enough, Rachel was at her locker wearing a black and yellow striped sweater with a bee on the front, along with a matching skirt and black tights. Even her headband was yellow.

She looked ridiculously adorable.

Wait a minute.

That was her headband!

The little thief!

Quinn narrowed her eyes and turned back to her locker. She was certainly not going let her get away with that, even if she was secretly thrilled by the idea of Rachel wearing her things.

"There's no master plan," she said disinterestedly to Santana. "I just don't think she's that bad anymore."

"Q, you're killing me. Come on! You can't expect me to believe for a second that you're actually hanging with manhands cause she ain't 'that bad anymore'? Screw that. I'm so bored with all the lameness going on these days. I freely admit I have nothing better to do. It's either screw with the dwarf or watch Britts slobber all over Wheels McFreak. Yes, I've sunk this low, so you better let me in on this! I needs my entertainment!"

"Sorry, San." She shut her locker, cradling her books in her arms and the rose in her hand. "Find someone else to torture. I think Doughboy brought his briefcase today. Go put the fear of God in him."

"Q!"

But she just walked off, leaving an indignant Santana behind. Quinn had already had a feeling that the rest of the school shared the Latina's impression of her newfound relationship with Rachel and that's why they hadn't responded with the usual gossip mongering and taunting. They were just waiting for the moment Quinn would reveal the explosive practical joke and watch as Rachel Berry would, once again, be cruelly humiliated. Such was life at William McKinley High.

Eventually they would start to figure out that there was no joke to be played, no one's feelings to be toyed with for the entertainment of the masses, and that's when the real trouble would start. She would have to worry about that later and try to figure out a way to avoid the brunt of the backlash, but for right now, she just wanted to go to class with her yellow rose and think about Rachel.

She sniffed the flower again with a smile and pulled out her cell.

You are so going to pay for stealing that headband.

Her phone vibrated a couple minutes later as she walked into class and she sat down at her desk to read the new message.

Promise?

Quinn stifled a groan. That girl just didn't play fair.

She found an anxious, pacing, Rachel Berry in the choir room and tried coughing to cover her giggle. As weird as it sounded, she actually kind of loved driving the diva crazy. It'd obviously been a pastime of hers for years now for a reason. She'd just never realized it could be pleasant before, without having to resort to cruelty and hurt feelings. This was, by far, a better method and she was sure she would be discovering many more with time. There were a few in particular she was rather looking forward to trying when the time came…

Rachel's eyes snapped up when she heard her come in and she ran over in a manic frenzy.

"Okay, enough is enough! Just tell me what we're singing! I can't take this anymore! This isn't good for my heart, Quinn!"

The blonde shrugged casually and put her bag down on the piano, desperately trying not to let her amusement show.

"Do you have the sheet music? You should have just let me know last night so I could arrange it for us. Now we're already behind schedule!"

"I arranged it."

"You…what?"

"Yep." Quinn nodded. "All taken care of."

"But…but…" Rachel spluttered, not knowing how to take this, and Quinn smiled at having been able to render the diva speechless.

Ready to put her out of her agony now, she pulled the papers out from her bag and handed them to Rachel, who took them swiftly, splaying them out across the piano.

As she pored over the sheet music with scholarly scrutiny, Quinn felt the butterflies settle in. She'd been so confident about her choice up until this very moment. Watching Rachel read through it, she suddenly felt very…very nervous. What if she really didn't like it? What if she didn't understand? What if it was stupid? She shouldn't have tried to pick the song. Rachel was better at this sort of thing. She should have just left it up to her. Why was she so insistent on it? It was too much. They couldn't sing this together! Stupid, stupid, stupid…

But then she looked up at her with a soft, shining smile and all Quinn's fears were quieted.

Rachel understood.

"We can't be public," Quinn explained quickly.

"I know."

"I can't do dates o-or… or be seen like that. It can't be that way."

"I understand."

"No one can know."

"Okay."

Rachel didn't appear to have a trace of doubt or hesitancy in her. So she could only helplessly prompt one last time, "Are you sure?"

The brunette just looked over the music again and clapped her hands excitedly. "We are so going to win this thing. As if there was any doubt, of course."

Quinn's smile threatened to split her mouth.

Rachel had been dead serious about that schedule, as Quinn would come to find out. Every spare moment she had, they spent rehearsing, even though they had perfected it by day two. The diva just wasn't satisfied. She kept insisting they work out some perceived flaws that Quinn knew were nonexistent. The upside was that however determined Rachel was to practice, that didn't mean she wasn't open to certain methods of distractions, which Quinn proved very skilled at.

They were sitting on the edge of the stage in the auditorium, taking a much needed breather, and Rachel handed her a water bottle. After their first rehearsal, she had apologized for insulting Quinn's talent, admitting that it was borne out of hurt on her part. She amended it by saying that Quinn really was very good and only pitchy on the rare occasion. It was Rachel's way of giving her a compliment. However, what Quinn was really proud of, though she didn't voice it, was that the brunette never once mentioned her being too sharp. She'd been working hard on that since last year after Rachel slipped it in with one of her veiled compliments. It felt good to know that her efforts were paying off and that Rachel noticed. She would never in a hundred years come close to being as talented as the other girl, but she did want to make her proud anyway.

"Can I come over tonight?"

The brunette's eyes lit up mirthfully. "Oh, so we're asking permission now? My, my, how things have changed."

"If you preferred the other method," she drawled, "I could certainly oblige."

Just then, the two of them blushed simultaneously, remembering just exactly where Quinn's method had them ending up last time. Rachel took back the water bottle, taking a deep sip, before clearing her throat.

"I would love for you to come over, Quinn. It's pasta night. Daddy is a wonderful cook when he makes the time for it."

At the mention of Rachel's Dads, Quinn's heart dropped a bit. How did she always manage to forget their existence? She was imagining an evening alone with Rachel, but a brutally uncomfortable dinner with her fathers was not something she had any mind to endure. The men still hadn't warmed up to her since Quinn first started making her presence known at the Berry house. Leroy was better than Hiram, who was like a stone wall for all she tried with her charm, but not that much better.

Why was she surprised? She never was the kind of girl parents liked.

In theory, she should be the perfect person to bring home to Mom and Dad, pretty, intelligent, upstanding Christian, Captain of the Cheerios, and so on. Of course her reputation had taken a mighty beating in the last year, but her relationships with parents had been bad long before that. Finn's Mom had never liked her, though she knew for a fact the woman adored Rachel. She felt a little stab in the chest at the reminder of Finn and Rachel. She never liked to think about them. She tried to ignore those vicious surges of jealousy whenever the two of them made eye contact. Rachel said she was over him, but…whatever.

The Berry men barely tolerated her in their home. A part of Quinn knew that she deserved it, but another part of her felt indignant. Who were they to judge her? They didn't know anything! Yet, they knew enough. Rachel wouldn't tell her, but Quinn knew she had daily arguments with her fathers over their friendship. If she could, she would just have Rachel over to her house instead, and avoid the tension altogether, but that could never happen. Rachel would never step foot over the Fabray threshold if she could help it.

Parents. Adults. It wasn't just Finn's Mom, Puck's mother hadn't been too welcoming either. Mercedes' mom tried, but it was always forced. Santana's parents thought she was just a white speck on the wall. Brittany's parents…didn't know up from down…so that didn't count. What Quinn had come to realize in her uncomfortable past with parents was that she didn't trust adults. She didn't trust anyone actually. Adults sensed things like that. It made them wary. It made them distrustful of her in return.

Quinn just wished it didn't have to be like that with Rachel's Dads. She wanted them to like her because she knew how important it was to Rachel and how hard it was for her to see them reject Quinn.

Oh, she didn't want to deal with this tonight. She had just wanted a quiet, peaceful evening with the girl. Though she probably would have had to forego the 'quiet' aspect anyway – it was Rachel.

"Right, um, you know, maybe it's not such a good idea after all."

"What?" Rachel pouted, scooting closer so that their thighs pressed against each other. Quinn licked her lips. "Why?"

"I just realized I'm kind of tired. Another time."

"Quinn…tell the truth," she admonished.

She sighed and settled back on her hands. "It's no secret your Dads don't like me."

"They don't know you," she replied hastily. "They don't know that you've changed. Give them time."

"Have I changed?"

They hadn't really talked about this yet…about their past…about the way Quinn used to treat her. To be honest, she wasn't sure if she was ready to.

"Of course you have! You don't think so?"

She just shrugged.

No. Not really. Maybe. Yes. No.

"Well…" Rachel thought about it. "For one, you've stopped calling me terrible nicknames."

"Manhands, Treasure Trail, Stubbles, RuPaul," she retorted automatically. "See? I still say them."

The brunette pursed her lips, trying to figure out just where Quinn was going with this.

"I haven't been slushied in months," she tried again.

"Happenstance. They got bored. They'll be back."

No they wouldn't. Quinn had put a permanent 'off limits' label on her.

Rachel shook her head and looked at her knowingly before bringing in the big guns. "Not ten minutes ago, you gave me what I know is a glaring hickey by now."

"Accident," she replied with a perfectly straight face.

Rachel frowned as she tried to discern whether or not Quinn was actually being sincere with this. The blonde put an end to the mystery by smirking at her and she got a light shove.

"You're being silly, Quinn."

"Yes." She nodded. "So I guess that means I have changed."

"Only a little," Rachel teased. "Come to dinner."

Quinn groaned.

"Please?" She pouted. "For me? It won't be that bad, I promise."

How had she figured out so quickly what Quinn would do for that pout?

"Pasta night? As in actual pasta, not the gluten-free kind?"

"Both will be provided, but I wish you would try it. It's not as bad as you think."

"If it's as bad as that sorry excuse for vegan ice cream you made me try…"

"That was delicious!" Rachel protested.

"That was disgusting."

She was pouting again and Quinn had to force herself to look away.

"Okay," she relented. "I'll come over."

Rachel beamed and pecked her on the cheek impulsively. "Now, just how bad is this one?" she said in a business-like tone, sweeping her hair back and pointed to the spot on her neck where there was indeed a dark spot Quinn had made.

"Not bad," she lied, biting her lip at the exposed throat, the smooth skin that tasted so good, that dip of her collarbone…

Back to earth, Fabray!

"You really must break this habit. I bruise so easily! It's becoming increasingly difficult to cover them up."

"Then don't cover them up," she retorted.

It thrilled Quinn's possessive streak to see Rachel walk through school with a mark she had essentially branded her with. So they couldn't be public. So she couldn't scare off any boys that came near her. So she couldn't hold her hand. But she could have that. Even if no one else knew whom it was from, they knew, and that was all that mattered. It was real.

"And just how am I supposed to explain it away? I have no one to blame it on. I refuse for people to be allowed the idea that I'm simply participating in random hookups now. Actually, on second thought, they most likely assume it's from Noah."

That promptly took the wind out of Quinn's sails. It sickened her to think that people would see her mark and automatically assume it was Puck's handiwork. That guy was never going anywhere near her again. She would make sure of it.

"You're right," she said sulkily. "I'll stop. Just wear a scarf tomorrow."

Rachel could hear the disappointment in her voice and put her hand over Quinn's reassuringly.

"You know," she murmured, "that isn't to say you could perhaps just be more discreet with your placement…"

She looked up at her in surprise. Did Rachel Berry actually just suggest that?

"We'll practice more tonight after dinner," she said with a nod and stood up, going to collect her things.

"More?" Quinn exclaimed. "We just spent an hour rehearsing! Rachel, I'm going to lose my voice if we keep going like this."

She calmly put her things into her bag before turning around with her hands on her hips.

"That wasn't the type of practice to which I was referring, Quinn."

Dinner with the Berrys was every bit as awkward and uncomfortable as Quinn expected. It seemed the more she tried to turn on the charm, the more disaffected they were. She tried. Rachel tried. The men pretended like they tried. It was just exhausting all around. Quinn couldn't wait for the chance to escape upstairs to the confines of Rachel's sunny, comfortable bedroom (conveniently soundproofed) with a lock on the door. That part was key.

Once they finally made it out, Quinn flopped onto the bed face-first with a whine.

"That…was…awful."

"You're exaggerating," she replied mildly, rummaging through her dresser drawer. "I think it went swimmingly!"

"You are such a bad liar."

Rachel gave her a reproving look, but she couldn't deny it.

"It'll get better," she said unconvincingly, yet nodded as though she believed it. Then she slipped into the bathroom, leaving the door cracked open. Quinn sat up on the bed.

"Your Daddy didn't even speak to me directly the entire time except for when he asked me to pass the salad. I swear that little man would give Santana a run for her money in the dirty looks department. And your Dad wasn't much better, but at least he tried to talk to me a bit."

"They just take time to warm up to people," Rachel replied from the bathroom.

Quinn knew she was still lying. Leroy and Hiram were the kind of people who were typically outgoing, friendly, charismatic, and entirely sociable, except, it seemed, when it came to Quinn.

"They're not going to let me keep coming over here," she said forlornly.

Rachel came back into the room now wearing a silk chemise with the tiniest shorts known to man, more like underwear really. Quinn's mouth went dry. She was puzzled by the wardrobe change, but appreciated it all the same since now much more of that flawless, tan skin so unfairly hidden by fuzzy sweaters and leggings was exposed for her eyes to feast on. Her heart was definitely racing now.

"Stop it," Rachel said sternly. "I promise, my Daddies may be experiencing some difficulties in learning to trust you right now, but they will never refuse you in this house as long as I want you here. They might not be able to understand us, yet, Quinn, but they will eventually. So please don't be so concerned about it. Besides, even if they never come around, it won't change anything."

She leaned against the dresser across from her and Quinn couldn't help but think she was much too far away.

"It'd be a lot harder."

"It would be," she admitted, "but I don't care. We'd find a way."

"I don't know why you don't hate me."

"Quinn…" she said reprovingly, looking at her in disbelief. "We've talked about this."

"I know. I still don't get it though. You should hate me for what I was, Rachel."

"I don't. I never did."

"Why?"

She had to know. She had to understand. If the situation were reversed…well, she knew for a fact she would never be as forgiving as Rachel.

"I just…knew it wasn't the real you. I knew there was something far better and more wonderful inside you that you weren't letting people see. I just…"

Quinn felt her cheeks flush with something that was not at all about embarrassment, but perhaps something to do with vulnerability.

"You saw me," she whispered in realization.

"Yeah," Rachel smiled. "I saw you."

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

"It sounds so stupid to say. It'll never be enough. I could say it for the rest of our lifetime and it still wouldn't feel like enough."

"It would get a bit tiring after the first six months."

"You've just forgiven me for everything?"

"No." She swallowed thickly. "Not everything. But with time…"

"Tell me what and I'll apologize for it specifically."

Rachel shook her head laughingly. "I don't want you to apologize. Just us being like this," she motioned between them, "is making up in light years for it."

"You sure? Cause if you made a list…"

The brunette laughed and stretched herself out on the bed. The action pulled up her top, revealing a delectable sliver of smooth skin across her trim stomach. Quinn swallowed thickly.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore tonight. You're ruining my plans."

"Plans?" she echoed hoarsely, her attention still very much on the bare stomach.

"We were going to practice, remember? While my throat is off limits for those lovebites you're so very partial to, I think you should experiment with finding other places for them."

The proverbial light bulb went off in Quinn's head. Now she understood the wardrobe change.

"What makes you think I want to do that?" she replied coyly, lying down next to her, and dragged her finger lightly over the silky material at Rachel's side.

"Oh, please. I saw the pouty look on your face when I said you couldn't do it anymore. You're rather transparent when it comes to this sort of thing, Quinn. You like the idea of marking me."

"Do you have to say it like that?" She grimaced. "You make it sound so caveman-like. Like something…ugh…Finn would do!"

"I never allowed him to give me hickeys," she replied simply and pulled Quinn on top of her. "But you…" she whispered huskily, "I like it too."

That was all the blonde needed.

After about an hour of studious practicing, Quinn had successfully managed to find more creative places for her particular method of branding, but was forced to put it to an end since it was getting late and it was a school night. Rachel wanted to walk her to the door, but she insisted she stay right where she was on the comfy bed. Not only did she know the girl was tired, but said that if her fathers caught her looking the way she did right now, Quinn was definitely going to be exiled from the house (and possibly have the cops called on her).

"I would have put something on…" Rachel muttered, but relented all the same and fell back onto the pillows.

Quinn swallowed thickly at the sight. The swollen lips, the disheveled hair, the now carefully placed dark spots spattered across her chest, particularly right where the chemise crested over the curve of her breasts.

She practically stumbled her way down the stairs.

As she was putting on her jacket in the foyer, Quinn couldn't help but hear the loud, angry sounds coming from down the hall. She knew those muffled noises well enough. She'd grown up in the Fabray household after all. If she wasn't hearing that, then it was dead silence.

She knew she shouldn't be listening, knew she was opening herself to getting caught, but she couldn't help it. It was as though some force was propelling her down the hallway, having her pause right outside the closed den door. Though they were obviously trying to be discreet with their argument, their raised voices made the door useless - she could hear every word. And it didn't surprise her how often she heard her own name.

"I absolutely refuse to let this continue! I tried to put up with it at first, tried to put on a good front, but I can't anymore. How dare she come into this house the way she does – acting as though it's nothing at all!"

"She's just a child, Hiram! Maybe she doesn't know…"

"Don't even try that. She's not a child. She knows full well what she's doing! I'm ending this charade! She's not to be welcomed here anymore."

"And exactly how well do you think that's going to go over with our daughter?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Rightttt," Leroy drawled skeptically. "You can't ban her, darling. It'll just make Rachel rebel more. She'll try harder than ever to see the girl. Forcing them apart is only going to make matters worse."

"Then what do you suggest?" Hiram shot back harshly.

"We need to give her a chance."

Hiram started to protest, but Leroy overrode him.

"Why shouldn't we allow her the same opportunity we would anyone else, to prove herself? Perhaps she'll rise to the occasion. Rachel certainly believes so. People can change."

"The world doesn't work that way and you know it," Hiram said bitterly.

"Sweetheart, you can't blame Quinn for who she comes from. I know how difficult it is for you, but I think we have to trust Rachel here."

"That girl will hurt her. We're acting as if Rachel never came home sobbing in her room every day for years because of the things that cheerleader did! Are we supposed to forget? People like that don't change. It's in her blood. It's our job to protect our daughter and that's what I'm going to do!"

"This is not the man I know and love speaking. You're letting yourself be blinded by what was done to you. Quinn isn't Russell Fabray. You have to learn to see that. Maybe you should try to see her through Rachel's eyes."

"She's young, Leroy!" he exclaimed. "With the biggest heart we know! Of course she'll try to win her over, but she can't see that Quinn isn't worth her time."

"I don't know if I believe that."

"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. We agreed on that a long time ago!"

"Things have changed since then. Rachel obviously…"

"Nothing changes," he spat. "Nothing. Never has, never will. There will always be hate in this world and there will always be hateful people to perpetuate it. This girl is no different."

There was a long, pressing silence before she heard the other man whisper, "It breaks my heart to hear you like this."

"I'm going for a walk." He sighed heavily. "Don't wait up."

When Hiram opened the front door, he was just in time to see Quinn's car disappear down the street.

Chapter Text

"Nervous?" Rachel asked as they stood outside the door to the choir room.

"Nope," she lied. "You?"

"I never get stage fright. Except for that one unfortunate occurrence when I was four before a dance competition, but I still don't know if it was from butterflies or the three bags of cotton candy I indulged in earlier that the day. Since then, there have been no such recurrences, so I'm likely to believe the latter."

"Why would you anyway?" Quinn grumbled, glancing in through the window quickly before moving back out of sight. "You have nothing to worry about."

"Neither do you," she said perplexedly.

"Sure I do. It's a lot harder for me. You sing effortlessly."

"It's hardly without effort, Quinn. My years of training-"

"I'm just gonna try not to make a fool of myself singing with you."

"What does that mean?" she asked, looking hurt.

"Just that…" She rolled her eyes and almost stomped her foot. "Fine! I'll admit it. I'm nervous. You're incredible, Rachel, and I just want to keep up. Okay?"

The brunette's eyes misted over with unshed tears. She looked around them carefully to make sure there was no one within hearing distance, before stepping in a little closer, turning their friend bubble to something else.

"I wish we were alone right now so I could kiss you senseless for that," she said huskily.

"Later. Let's just get through this first," Quinn replied tersely and pushed open the door, leaving a still glowing Rachel behind.

Sam/Mercedes, Mike/Artie, Santana/Kurt, and Finn/Brittany had already performed earlier that week. Today it was Puck and Tina then Rachel and Quinn before the final judgment where Miss Pillsbury, Mr. Schuester, and Coach Beiste would name the winners. Mr. Schue said he couldn't leave it up to them again because they had all just voted for themselves last time.

Puck and Tina did much better than expected, considering the two of them had barely engaged in the spoken word with each other before this. They had everyone clapping and singing along. Quinn knew that her duet with Rachel was going to be better though.

"Alright, girls," he clapped his hands together. "Best for last?"

"Need you even ask, Mr. Schue?" Rachel retorted confidently which earned her several nasty under the breath comments and groans.

Quinn vainly tried not to glare at them all for being such whiny brats.

The music started and she felt the butterflies start up even worse than before. She just hoped she could get through this song without screwing up. What was she thinking suggesting it? To sing with Rachel? The whole club was going to know the truth before they were halfway through!

The two of them had agreed beforehand not to look at each other too much during the performance, so as not to accidentally give themselves away. It had actually been Rachel to bring it up.

"I might possibly moon over you, so if we just focus our attention on our audience, everything should be just fine. If not, we can probably pass it off as part of the performance."

"You're going to moon over me?"

"It's a possibility, yes. I'm just being honest. I know myself, Quinn. My feelings tend to be on the surface for all to see during a performance. It's part of what makes me good! I convey a dramatic, but sincere sense of raw emotion. I cry during practically every solo."

"I noticed."

"So just focus on the audience and the judges and we'll be just fine."

"I can't believe you said you were going to moon over me. Who says that? Who admits to that?"

"Possibly! I said possibly!"

The music started, then it was her cue, and there was no going back.

"I'm strong,

But I break."

Thank God! Her voice didn't crack. She could do this. Just focus on the audience, like Rachel said.

"I'm stubborn,

And I make plenty of mistakes.

Yeah, I'm hard,

And life with me is never easy,

To figure out, to love,

I'm jaded but oh so lovely."

She found Sam's gaze up in the back row and smiled at him. Though the offer of friendship still stood solidly, they hadn't really spoken to each other since that morning at her locker. Quinn understood. She wanted to give him space and it was okay because she knew if ever she needed it, there would be someone on her side. It didn't matter that they weren't talking much right now, just knowing that the support was there was enough. If she had to fall, Sam Evans's arms were one of the safest places she knew.

"All you have to do is hold me,

And you'll know and you'll see just how sweet it can be,

If you'll trust me, love me, let me,"

She turned to see the brunette stepping up beside her and her heart slammed into her throat.

"Maybe, yeah maybe."

Rachel tucked her hair behind her ear shyly and kept her eyes purposefully on the people before them. There was a distinct red blush on her cheeks that she couldn't hide though. Quinn stepped aside and listened as the diva opened her mouth to sing flawlessly and beautifully as always.

"Someday,

When we're at the same place,

When we're on the same road,

When it's OK to hold my hand,

Without feeling lost,

Without all the excuses,"

Their agreement not to look at each other was being broken more times than Quinn could count. Rachel ducked her head and smiled at her as she sang the rest of the verses, forgetting the others, forgetting the rules. She was singing to Quinn, and as bad as that could have been for them, Quinn just wanted to hear it.

"When it's just because you love me, you let me, you need me,

Then maybe, maybe."

They sang together:

"All you have to do is hold me,

And you'll know and you'll see just how sweet it can be,

If you'll trust me, love me, let me,

Maybe, maybe."

Quinn took a few steps back as she realized how close they had gotten and looked towards the adults sitting off to the side in the front row.

"I don't want to be tough," she sang, breathing a little harder than she should be.

Rachel's voice came from behind her. "And I don't want to be proud."

"I don't need to be fixed," they harmonized, "and I certainly don't need to be found."

Quinn went back over to the center of the room, looking out at the faces and seeing none of them. There was only one face in her mind right now.

"I'm not lost,

I need to be loved,"

Rachel was beside her again and though there was plenty of distance between them, Quinn could just feel her there, heat radiating off their bodies as if they were just about to touch.

They sang together again.

"I just need to be loved,

I just want to be loved by you and I won't stop 'cause I believe,

That maybe, yeah maybe,

Maybe, yeah maybe."

Each and every time they got to this part in rehearsal, a solo for Rachel, it both thrilled and broke Quinn's heart. There was just something about the way she sang it, so sweet, so perfect, so honest. This time was all those rehearsals, times a thousand.

"I should know better than to touch the fire twice,

But I'm thinking maybe…

Yeah maybe you're mine."

To hell with the rules seemed to be their shared thought as their eyes met and they sang the last verse.

"Maybe, love, maybe."

Everyone applauded and cheered, especially the judges. The brunette bounced up and down happily, knowing they had won for sure. Quinn didn't care about any of it.

All she saw was Rachel.

It was a mistake though, to be as thoughtless as that, because had Quinn been more attentive, she would have seen the dark gleam forming in Santana Lopez's eyes.

Mr. Schuester, Miss Pillsbury, and Coach Beiste left the room to 'deliberate' which Rachel thought was unnecessary and told Quinn as much. What was there to think about? But she checked herself and admitted that of course it was prudent to look as though they considered all the options in the spirit of fairness for the other competitors. She wasn't certain, but Quinn suspiciously looked like she was trying not to laugh.

In truth, Rachel had been nearly out of her mind with worry about the song selection and it took every ounce of willpower she had to let Quinn handle it. If it were anyone else, she never would have tolerated such a thing, but it was so out of the ordinary for the other girl to make such a demand that she had to find a way to deal with it. Quinn was the powerhouse cheerleader that ruled the school with an iron fist, but in Glee, she seemed much more content to sit back and let others take the wheel. That is, she didn't protest it anyway.

Quinn had always been surprisingly accepting of Rachel's assumed position of hierarchy in the club and was, for the most part, at ease with sitting back and allowing others to lead the way. She never had much to say when it came to their song selections or performances, she mostly just went along with everything.

Which was so unlike her! Then again, when in Glee, almost all of them changed. They weren't the same people outside of that choir room - different talents were respected and valued – which changed the status quo. Rachel was the leader in Glee while Quinn was the leader in school. She'd loved the opportunity to stand up and make herself heard, even if the reception was lukewarm at best, because this was something she truly excelled in and none of them could deny it.

It was the one thing Quinn had never insulted or taunted her about over the years. She talked about Rachel's clothes, her looks, her personality, and just about every other possible part of her, but she never said a thing about Rachel's talent. Even back then, Quinn recognized it enough to know that she could never take that away.

So naturally, Rachel assumed that Quinn would sit back and allow her to lead their partnership in the competition and she was utterly taken aback by the blonde's sudden insistency in choosing a song. She couldn't fathom the reasoning for it at first, but as soon as she saw what Quinn had chosen, it all came together. Hope came bursting through like never before. She'd truly wanted to cry, but it wasn't the right time, or place, and she was sure it would freak the other girl out to see such a powerful reaction.

That song was Quinn's way of telling her what she wanted and that meant more to Rachel than anything. Especially that she was so willing to get up there in front of everyone and sing it with her. It was painfully difficult to keep her emotions in check while they performed, she could feel the tears about to overflow every time Quinn looked her way. There was so much happiness inside her that she could hardly stand it. When they finished and Quinn looked at her, just looked at her that way, Rachel knew how far she'd fallen. It wasn't ever going to stop.

The judges came back in and Mr. Schue announced the winners, but she didn't even wait for him to finish before bounding up to snatch the prize and started to make a small speech to the group about how deserving the win was even though everyone tried admirably and should be applauded for doing so. Quinn was shaking her head pointedly from where she still sat, not getting up with her. At the look on the other girl's face, Rachel relented, and cut the speech short. Everyone promptly got their things together and started to leave. Santana bitching about the unfairness of Quinn winning twice just because she's blonde was clearly heard over the shuffle.

Rachel looked around for Quinn, who had suddenly disappeared, and was disheartened. Why did she leave already? Rachel had really hoped to have the chance to talk with her and revel in their win, but it looked like that was going to have to wait until later. She wondered where Quinn was on the possibility of them using their winning coupons to celebrate at Breadstix together, as in, at the same time, at the same table even?

"Hey, Rach."

She tried not to wince at hearing his voice.

Finn was… well, Finn was complicated. Correction: her situation with Finn was complicated. Finn himself was fairly simpleminded and easy to figure out. He was a boy who had no idea what on earth he was doing…same as every other teenage boy in existence.

"Hello, Finn!" she chirped politely.

"Congratulations on the win. You guys were good. I was kinda worried cause I thought you two might end up clawing each other's eyes out before you got through it, but no crazy stuff."

"Um, thank you," she said uncomfortably and cleared her throat. "That's…kind of you to say."

It was odd. For so long she had obsessed over this boy now towering over her. He filled her thoughts night and day. He could say clumsy, but lovely, well-meaning things, and he could also be an enormous jerk.

It had taken her some time after their break up to actually admit that to herself, that he could be a jerk, because before she had always tried to pass it off as unintentional and chalked it up to his youth, immaturity. Surely, he never understood how hurtful some of the things he said and did were. Otherwise, he wouldn't have done it! Finn was a good guy, just obtuse at times…a lot of times.

Yet, after being with Quinn and her Finn-warped world slowly began to fade, she started seeing a lot more about their relationship that she hadn't wanted to see at the time. Finn always seemed embarrassed by her. He hardly ever stood up for her. He complained endlessly about never getting past second base. She'd always ignored those things before, in favor of the good, because she loved him and that's what you do when you love someone. At least, that's what she had thought.

Quinn changed that. Not only was her physical connection to Quinn unparalleled in any previous relationship, but the way she felt about her was so vastly different from what she had with Finn, Jesse, and even Noah. She thought she had loved them, well, Finn and Jesse anyway, but she knew now how sorely mistaken she was. What she felt for those boys wasn't love at all. It paled in comparison. She'd felt attraction, affection, and an intense need for a connection with someone else, for someone to want her, for someone to love her. She'd thrown herself headfirst into her relationships with them because she was desperately searching for that. She'd even convinced herself that she'd found it. Instead, she could see now that it was hardly at all what it should be.

Friendship mixed with mild attraction swirled with desperation, that was Finn. Add in a diva-off and then it became Jesse. Noah was merely a mild detour for sexual experimentation purposes...a very mild detour.

At least she'd been able to come to this realization now and not much later in life after she made too many mistakes she'd regret. That was something to be grateful for. While she would always feel something for Finn, whether it be friendship or perhaps something slightly more than that, it was so far beyond over for them. Her time with Quinn had effectively erased the boy from present day thoughts and it was only in moments like these, when they found themselves in a room together, that she would remember what it was they shared. She hoped Finn could find a way to forgive her for hurting him and that they could move on as friends. They always seemed to work better as friends. If she hadn't been so set on making it mean more, then maybe that's all they would have been. Too late for that now.

"Haven't seen you around much lately."

"I'm in school every day," she replied, puzzled. "And in Glee. We see each other all the time."

"Ah, yeah," he shrugged, "well, I just meant, you know, like, we don't talk much or anything."

"You're right." She nodded. "We haven't talked very much since everything that happened… I guess I thought you weren't quite amenable to speaking with me right now."

"Huh?"

Right. She'd forgotten how often she had to stop and explain things to Finn. He was never able to keep up with her very well. Probably the only time he ever did was when they were singing and barely even then. Over time, she found herself second guessing certain words and thought processes for the sake of the boy being able to understand her.

"You weren't up for it," she simplified.

"Oh, hah, yeah. Well, I wasn't at first, but I-I think I'd be cool with it now."

"Are you saying you'd like to be friends?" she asked hopefully. "Because I'd like that too."

"Friends?" he frowned, looking confused. "Uh. Sure. Friends. But that's not what you were asking for in the song though."

"Excuse me?"

"The song you picked. It was cool, you know. I really liked it. Look, I was majorly pissed at you for the thing with Puck, but I dunno… I feel like I haven't actually seen you for months and it kind of sucks. So I realized that it sucks not being around you. I think I wanna give us a second chance. I messed up by not telling you about Santana and then you messed up with Puck, but I don't care anymore. I want to get past it. Actually, I've been wanting to say this for a few days now, but you looked like you'd kinda moved on and all, but when you sang that song for me… I knew we could make it work."

"S-sang that song for you?" she stammered.

"Yeah!" He nodded eagerly. "It was totally obvious. I mean talking about being stubborn, making mistakes, life isn't easy with you, and all that stuff. It was totally about you and your issues. I think it's really awesome that you admitted to it like that."

Rachel had never experienced a stroke before, but she was sure whatever was happening to her right now was a lot like one.

Finn thought it was about him? Her song with Quinn was about him and performed as some misguided attempt to win him back?

Brain. Not. Functioning.

"F-Finn, I don't, I don't-"

"Come on, Rach," he grinned dopily at her and took one of her hands. It was strange how foreign it felt now. His enormous paw dwarfing her. It was so different from when she held Quinn's hand, every single thing about it, right down to the butterflies. "What do you say? Let's try us again. I missed you."

This was not happening. This could not be happening. Where did everyone else go? Why were they alone now? Dammit!

"I don't know what to say."

"Just say yes. I forgive you, Rach. I love you and I want us to be together. I know you want it too."

At that, she seemed to be able to break out of the daze and regain her bearings. She found solid ground once more and took her hand away from him. He looked surprised.

"I'm sorry, Finn, truly. But you have the wrong idea. I didn't pick that song for you or whatever it is you may believe."

He scoffed. "You don't have to deny-"

"Listen to me," she said firmly. "It was not about you, but I am genuinely sorry that you took it that way. Look, you broke up with me and it did hurt, but I've moved on. We don't belong together; we never did. I would love to be your friend, but I-I can't be your girlfriend."

"What are you talking about?" he asked in bewilderment. "You told me you loved me!"

"I-I thought I did," she said dolefully. "Maybe I did! But whatever the truth was then Finn, it's not how I feel about you now."

"Is this some chick game where you're playing hard to get? Cause that's not cool, Rachel."

"It's nothing of the sort and I'm insulted by the mere insinuation of it!" she snapped indignantly and then tried to calm herself. "We just don't work together. You lied to me for months. I ended up feeling desperate enough to kiss Noah. We always hurt each other more than we make each other feel good. You have to see that. Relationships shouldn't be that way."

"That's not true! We're awesome together! We make a great team. Why are you shooting me down like this? Is there someone else? There's someone else! Who?"

"Finn…" she said sadly, "I care about you and I will always care about you. You were the first boy I ever really liked. I'll always remember you for that, but we have to be able to move on and I hope that we can do so as friends because I meant it when I said that. I believe you're a good guy and I would very much like to have you as a part of my life. I just can't be that girl for you anymore."

There were tears welling in her eyes, but it wasn't because she was sad or because she regretted what she was doing. Even though this felt absolutely right, in every sense of the word, she couldn't help but feel a permanence settling in. She was really saying goodbye to this chapter of her life that had been both so sweet and so painful. She wouldn't change her past with Finn. He would be a part of her no matter what, but she no longer wanted him for her future.

"I-I should go now. I'll see you around, okay?"

"Rachel? Wha- Wait!" He shook his head angrily. "You're actually trying to tell me you sang that stuff about second chances and it had nothing to do with us?"

"I'm sorry," she offered helplessly with a sad shrug and walked out of the choir room.

Once out, her head was still reeling. Also, she was slightly nauseated.

Never in a million years did she expect that to happen. How could he think that song was about them? How dare he! That was about her and Quinn, and NO ONE had a right to step all over it and try to take-

No. Stop. He's never been all too bright. You just hurt his feelings. Don't be mad at him; feel sorry for him.

But there was a part of her that still really wanted to be mad at him. He could be so self-centered sometimes! How could he not see that she had moved on? And to just assume that she would go running back into his arms at first chance? Well, if she were brutally honest with herself, she'd given him enough reasons to believe she'd do that, but still!

She'd thought they were over…really, truly over. Why did he have to go and do that? Just bring it all up again when they could have kept moving forward. Now things were going to be even more awkward in Glee and they still had to sing most of the leads together… Her stomach churned at the thought. Glee was supposed to be her refuge, her time to shine, not to feel uncomfortable and tense because she'd rebuffed her ex-boyfriend's attempts to rekindle a doomed relationship.

Why did he have to be so dumb?

Someone grabbed her hand and before she knew it, Rachel was forcefully yanked out of the hallway into a dark room. The door shut behind her immediately. She couldn't see in the black and tripped over something, but a pair of strong arms wrapped round her waist steadied her before she fell. All in the same movement, hands whirled her around and she yelped when she found herself trapped between something solid and the person holding her.

Lips attacked her roughly without pretense. A tongue plunged into her mouth, searchingly, desperately, demandingly. Rachel moaned, eagerly succumbing to the onslaught, and caught the other girl's face in her hands as she kissed back with every ounce of passion. Their bodies melded at every curve, she could feel both their hearts racing wildly out of control. She flushed with a heat that went streaking down to the wetness pooling between her thighs. A hand hooked behind her knee and hitched her leg high up around her waist, grinding hard into her. Then she was at her throat, nipping and sucking fervently while rocking against her throbbing core. Rachel whimpered. It was all she could do to hold on.

"Tell me you don't want Finn," she demanded harshly.

"I don't want Finn."

"Tell me you want me."

"I want you," she gasped. "Only you."

"My name, say my name." Her hands went so high up Rachel's legs she was gripping her ass.

"I only want you, Quinn."

"You're mine," she growled against her lips.

"Yes, yes, I'm yours."

They were sitting on some boxes or maybe they were crates, Rachel didn't know or care. Her head rested against the wall while her body was warmly entangled with Quinn's as they came down from the highly charged encounter. They were wrapped up as comfortably as they could be, Quinn's arm around her waist, Rachel's cheek against her shoulder, her leg draped over Quinn's who had her hand on Rachel's knee, her thumb tracing absent circles across the sensitive flesh of the inside curve.

It was soothing. She liked being with Quinn like that. There was something inherently intimate about being this close, just to be close, while engulfed in darkness. She couldn't see her, but she could feel her.

Eventually, Rachel explained what had happened with Finn, what he thought, that he wanted them to get back together, how she turned him down. Quinn never said a word, just listened.

"How did you see us?"

"I was waiting for you outside in the hall," she said quietly, "but you never came out. When I went back to check…"

"Oh," Rachel murmured, feeling twinges of guilt. "I didn't mean to make you worried."

"You didn't. I mean, it wasn't your fault. You shot him down, right?"

"In flames," she admitted with a tinge of sadness.

"Are you sorry?" she asked so softly, Rachel wasn't sure she heard it at first, but she had.

Instead of reprimanding Quinn for even considering such a thing, she took her hand from her knee and squeezed it tightly so that the other girl would understand.

"Never."

Quinn exhaled heavily and so she nuzzled further into the crook of her neck, keeping their linked hands in her lap, pressed against her stomach.

"So…it's safe to assume this arrangement of ours means being exclusive?" she ventured lightly.

"Yes."

"For both of us?"

"Do you have a need to be a free agent, Rachel?" she shot testily.

"I was referring to you."

"I broke up with Sam, didn't I?"

"And there won't be anyone else?"

"Who else would there be?"

"This would be you avoiding answering the question."

She sighed exasperatedly. "Yes. It means both of us." There was a pause and Rachel could sense that she wanted to say something more. Quinn searched for her in the darkness before finding purchase on her cheek and she urged Rachel to turn to her. "I-I don't want anyone else," she said shyly, her lips brushing against Rachel's ear. Her breath was hot and sweet on her skin.

"Good," she murmured. "That's all I needed to know."

With that, she disentangled herself and stood up, attempting to rectify her disheveled appearance by smoothing down her hair and clothes.

"Wait, you didn't answer the question!"

"Sure I did."

"Wh- Get back here!"

Rachel just giggled and opened the door, flooding the janitor's closet with light momentarily before shutting it again, leaving Quinn to count to five hundred before feeling safe enough to go too.

She hadn't expected it, but was over the moon to get a text from Quinn saying they should use their prizes tonight after she finished Cheerios practice. Rachel quickly agreed and suddenly there were plans set for Quinn to pick her up at her house so they could go out to dinner together. She spent the rest of the day skipping, dancing, and singing under her breath, until Kurt elbowed her to stop making a fool of herself (and annoying him). That only curbed her impulses until she got home and she danced around her room, singing at the top of her lungs as she got ready for the evening. Rachel was riding on a high and nothing was going to bring her down.

Quinn was still in her Cheerios uniform when she picked her up, but she was pleased to note the reaction to her outfit for the night. Rachel had caught on rather quickly to the blonde's penchant for her barelegged in mini-skirts. Quinn didn't say much other than "hey," but Rachel giggled when she caught her glancing sideways several times throughout the car ride.

It was perfect.

"So I thought dates weren't allowed," the brunette said, eyeing her menu inconspicuously as they sat in their booth and Quinn looked at her warily.

"That's not what this is," she said warningly, pulling out the coupons they won. "See? No one's paying. Not a date."

Whoa. Déjà vu.

"Just two friends…sharing a meal…in public."

"Right."

"Does that mean we can't play footsie?"

Quinn looked around in a panic. "Can you not?"

Rachel smirked. "I'm simply trying to ascertain how the rules work. You don't seem to mind it being known that we're friends, so I assume if it's acceptable for friends, we're allowed to partake in it, yes? What friends do, we can do?"

"If you want…" she mumbled, not comfortable with where this was going.

"So we could go to the movies, go shopping, bowling, go to dinner together? Just as long as I keep my hands to myself?" she grinned mischievously. "A friend, not a girlfriend."

"Yeah…sometimes, I guess."

"Even though that's what I am?"

"What?"

"Am I your girlfriend?"

"Would you stop? Shut up!" she hissed. "Not here!"

"Just nod yes or no."

Quinn nodded almost imperceptibly, praying that she would stop now. All it took was one wrong person in the right place at the wrong time and it was all over. Rachel didn't understand that and Quinn wasn't about to make her understand. There were things about her life better left unsaid.

Rachel, however, seemed extremely pleased with herself and the waitress came over to take their order. Quinn frowned at Rachel ordering only a small salad.

"You're not hungry?" she asked as the woman walked away.

Rachel shrugged noncommittally. "They don't offer very much here that's vegan friendly."

"You don't like coming here, do you?" she said in sudden realization.

"It's fine," she waved her off, "I'm just happy being with you."

"We could go somewhere else."

"Then we wouldn't be able to use the coupons. Defeats the purpose, don't you think? This is our celebratory meal!"

"I'll give them to Santana," she argued. "Let's just go."

This wasn't a date in any sense of the word, but that didn't mean it couldn't be somewhere Rachel could actually have food she would enjoy.

"I'm perfectly all right here, Quinn." She smiled. "But thank you for your thoughtfulness. Besides, if we went anywhere else, it would be more like a date."

"What?" Her brow furrowed. "Why?"

"Because you'd want to pay and by your reasoning, that qualifies as a date criterion."

"Stop talking about this!" she hissed, feeling at the end of her rope.

Her nerves were already frayed as it was with having to perform that duet this afternoon, then her momentary loss of sanity in a jealous rage over seeing Rachel and Finn. Now she was out in public engaging in something that could very well be a dangerous situation for them if they didn't play it right and Rachel seemed determined to send her over the edge with constant innuendos and harping on sensitive subject matters that were hard enough to deal with when they were alone. And she chose to do it in one of Lima's most popular restaurants!

While it was actually slow at the moment, seeing as it was a weeknight and they actually didn't have anyone sitting close to them, it was still a very public, very exposed, very potentially volatile situation, and the girl didn't seem to get that in the slightest!

It was like any minute now she was going to jump up on the table and start shouting about how they were together and giving a play by play of their earlier closet session. Rather, considering it was Rachel, she'd start belting out some blatantly Sapphic love ballad and dedicate it to her lesbian lover, Quinn Fabray, Captain of the Cheerios, and then add in her phone number, home address, and social security number just to be absolutely sure everyone knew who she was.

Alright, so that was an overreaction, but she was at her wits end. Why couldn't Rachel just leave it be and talk about something not so frenetically charged and doom-worthy? The weather? They could talk about the weather! Glee club? Regionals? Hell, at this point she'd gladly take an hour long rambling about the infallible talent of Barbra Streisand!

"Come on, just admit it, you'd at least feel the need to. You even picked me up tonight. Who knew you had such chivalrous intentions?"

"It was because your Dad had the car!" she cried. "What is your point here?"

"No point."

"So you're just being difficult for the hell of it?"

"No one ever said I was easy."

"No, they definitely don't say that," she huffed.

"So if it isn't a date, do I still get to kiss you goodnight?"

Dread flooded her body. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to hide. She was certain she went cross-eyed for a moment there.

"Are you stupid?" she shouted angrily, looking around at who could have been close enough to overhear. "I told you to shut up! God, Rachel! If you're just going to treat it as a joke, then this can't happen. I told you how it was going to work and you agreed! You know what, forget it, we're done here."

"No, no! Quinn! Wait, just sit down!" she implored, tugging on her arm and then quickly releasing her at the frightened look at their physical contact on the blonde's face. "I'm sorry, okay? I am. I didn't mean to upset you, I was only teasing."

Quinn looked around at the sparsely populated restaurant, seeing the eyes on her. Now she was the one causing a scene. This was exactly what she was trying to avoid tonight. It was all going so terribly wrong… Rachel looked so upset. Big brown eyes stared up at her, desperately pleading for her to stay, not to leave her. Well, how could she just leave her? She couldn't.

Quinn sat down again reluctantly and leaned forward to speak barely above a whisper. "You can't talk about stuff like that around people." Her voice cracked fearfully. "Someone will hear. That was the deal, Rachel. If you can't handle it, then-"

"I can! I promise. I'm sorry," she said again. "Please. Don't let me spoil our night. We're celebrating. I just…I'm kind of amazed by all of this. I'm more than content with our current arrangement. I'm really very happy, Quinn."

"You are?" she remarked with genuine surprise. "I thought…I thought it would bother you…having to…"

"It's mostly because I never thought I'd get even this much. I suppose I got a little too excited. We've gone from you terrorizing me on a daily basis with slushies, derogatory nicknames, and hurtful comments, to spending a pleasant evening out to dinner together, after having just performed a wonderful duet in Glee, and I'm sure I'm promised a certain something at the end of the night."

"Can we leave this discussion for a place that isn't completely public?" she said through gritted teeth.

Could her nerves take anymore of this? A person was never meant to exist so continuously and relentlessly on edge, with fear, to fret over every turn. The stress of it all had her trembling with weariness. Quinn felt a sudden wave of exhaustion. All she wanted was to put her head down on the table and sleep right now. Maybe burrow down somewhere far, far away, and take Rachel with her.

"Of course," she said tenderly. "Again, I am sorry I made you feel uncomfortable."

"It's okay. We just have to be careful."

She nodded dutifully.

"And…you're definitely promised something at the end of the night," she muttered.

Rachel glowed with happiness, ducking her head down to fiddle with the silverware, but couldn't hide the enormous grin on her face. It made Quinn feel a little better despite everything.

The night still didn't go too well.

It actually bothered her a great deal what Rachel said, about being content with them, about thinking she'd never even get that much.

It bothered her so much she didn't really talk for the rest of dinner or on the ride home. Rachel didn't try to question her about it, just looked increasingly dejected as the night wore on.

Quinn should have been happy to hear it. She should have experienced relief to know that Rachel wasn't feeling bad about the secrecy. Instead, she felt worse. Rachel shouldn't have to settle for this. She deserved more than just being the secret behind closed doors. It made her want to cry to think that this girl, this beautiful, incredible, talented girl, thought so low of herself that she wasn't even bothered by being a dirty secret. She should be bothered! She should refuse! She should have told Quinn to go to hell!

Yet, she couldn't help but be ever thankful that she didn't. Because she couldn't give Rachel anything else. It was the only way for her. Did the brunette truly understand that? Is that why she was okay with it? Or was it because she was just...settling for content?

In the last hour, Quinn had really started to hate that word. It was repeating in her head far too much.

"I'm so sorry that I ruined our night," Rachel's quiet voice broke into her self-induced fog of doubt.

She blinked, realizing that she had parked already in front of the Berry house. It was dark in the neighborhood. They didn't have streetlights. Added to the charm? Quinn barely even remembered leaving the restaurant.

"You didn't."

"I was foolish to act the way I did. I upset you. I should have known better than to behave like that."

"Rachel…" she started uneasily, "if this ever makes you unhappy, us I mean, promise you'll tell me? That you'll end it? I don't want you to be just be content. I want you to be happy. You deserve that. I don't want to hold you down. I can't be the person to do that to you. I did it for so many years. I don't want to be-"

Rachel unbuckled her seatbelt and was across the divide on her lips in a matter of seconds.

She kissed her deeply, thoroughly. There was no urgency in this. It was as if they had eternity at their disposal. She sucked in her bottom lip, then the top, before her tongue licked out teasingly, playing as though it was seeking approval for entry when it knew it already had it. Quinn moaned softly at the taste of her, she could never get enough of that. Their lips came together again and again, fitting in just a way that was so right, like they were made to do just this, only this, only with each other. Blood coursed through her veins, her temperature rose, heady with the sheer bliss that always was kissing Rachel Berry.

Like all good things, it came to an end, and Quinn's heart broke ever so slightly as it always did whenever they stopped.

"That's what was bothering you tonight?" Rachel whispered heavily against her face.

She nodded, unable to do anything else.

"Well, you're stupid."

"Excuse me?"

"You ruined what could have been a perfectly lovely evening with all this brooding. I'm rather annoyed with you right now."

Quinn's mouth opened and closed several times, utterly at a loss.

"Do I wish you felt safe and confident enough about who you are to proclaim it to the world? Of course I do. But I don't begrudge you for it, Quinn. I can only imagine what difficulties you're experiencing. I know very little of your upbringing, but from what I do know… It's okay. You have to believe me when I tell you that. Because I am happy. I get to have you to myself. I get to kiss you and tell you things and sing with you and play games with you and laugh with you. I don't care if it's behind closed doors or on a stage for all the world to see, as long as I get you."

"You're not always going to feel that way," she protested miserably. "You'll want more."

"Sure I will…someday. But we can cross that bridge when we get to it. For right now…this is where we are and this is how it is."

"Rach," she croaked, "I can't ever-"

"We'll cross it when we get to it," she said firmly, not letting her finish the rest of that sentence.

They both knew what she was going to say.

"But-"

"Are you really going to spend the rest of the night arguing with me? Because I must warn you, I am fully prepared to camp out here if necessary. I have excellent stamina due to my healthful lifestyle and years of strategic training for the fast paced, grueling schedule a Broadway star must endure while performing with high energy on the stage night after night."

Quinn huffed in exasperation, but her lips curled upwards into a tiny smile nonetheless.

"Excellent stamina?" She quirked an eyebrow. "Guess we'll be putting that to the test someday…"

Rachel promptly blushed.

"Okay," she sighed, giving in. It's not like she was in any position to be arguing right now anyway. "I'm sorry I was such a bitch tonight."

"You weren't a bitch. I've dealt with that side of you more than I care to admit. I know it well. You were just moody tonight, not a bitch."

"Then I'm sorry for being moody!" Quinn retorted a bit testily, eyes flaring.

Was she going to pick everything apart?

"Oh, well, now you're getting a little bitchy."

She had to laugh at that. It was getting a little easier to breathe now. She rested her head against the seat.

"Alright…so I do have one more thing I need to get off my chest about what you said earlier tonight."

"Yes?" Rachel shifted, trying to be as attentive and compassionate as possible.

"Do you think I'm the guy in this relationship?"

She stared at her for a moment, brow furrowed. "I beg your pardon?"

"Do you?" Quinn pressed. "I don't know how these kinds of relationships work! You made fun of me for picking you up tonight. And not that it's any of your business, but if we were to go on dates, which we're not, I would want to pay for you. I don't know why! It's weird! Does that mean I'm the guy?"

Rachel collapsed in a giggling fit, curling up in the passenger seat as she clutched her belly.

Quinn was hardly amused. It really wasn't that funny.

"Rachel!"

"I'm sorry, Quinn!" she gasped. "It's just…of all the things I thought you might say…"

"Stop laughing!"

"Alright, alright." She took some deep breaths and attempted to compose herself. "I'm going to be serious now."

That didn't work because the minute she looked at Quinn again, the giggles started all over.

"For God's sake!"

"Quinn, surely you understand the absurdity of your question?"

"No! I don't know. It's not like I've ever dated a girl before. With boys, I always knew how everything was going to go. I knew what they were supposed to do, how they were supposed to treat me, who was going to pay, where the lines were drawn. I don't know any of that now!"

"Aw, sweetie."

She ignored the skip of her heart to hear Rachel use a term of endearment with her.

"I swear if you're going to be condescending, I will drop kick you out of this car."

"Threats don't work on me, Quinn. Have you not discovered that yet? Now, since you seem to need an answer: no. I do not think you are the male equivalent in this relationship. There is no male equivalent, seeing as how we are both female. However, that being said, you do enjoy having the control, Quinn. So perhaps that is what you're mistaking as some sort of masculine alternative."

"You think I'm controlling?"

"No," she said pointedly, "I said you enjoy having the control, not that you're controlling - two very different things. You like being in charge, Quinn. You feel better knowing that the decisions lie in your hands. You are Captain of the Cheerios after all. You thrive that way. It's understandable considering how out of control you must feel in other parts of your life. Why not attempt to hold on to what you can? While I have issues with being actually controlling myself, it is rather freeing, if not terrifying at times to relinquish the reins to you. Case in point, our fabulous duet this afternoon! It doesn't mean you're the guy, just that you tend to be the aggressor in certain matters because that's what makes you the most comfortable right now."

"I'm too aggressive with you?"

"You're not getting it," she shook her head with a laugh. "No, everything's fine, Quinn. You're not the guy. I'm not the girl. We're just…us. Besides, wanting to take me out to dinner and pay for it has nothing to do with being masculine or feminine. It simply means that you want to do something nice for me. And that's..." she took a deep breath, smiling, "wonderful. I bought you a rose, didn't I? Is that not typically ascribed to the male's role in heterosexual relationships? To give flowers? Yet you're not calling me the guy."

"I didn't even think about it like that…"

"Exactly. Stop worrying so much. You're going to give yourself wrinkles and you are far too young for lines."

She took a deep breath, feeling the last bits of heaviness that had plagued her this evening vanishing into the dark. Rachel was surprisingly good at making her feel better about these things. How did she do that?

"I'm also too pretty for wrinkles," she pointed out.

"Much too pretty," Rachel agreed with a completely straight face then bit her bottom lip flirtatiously. "Can I have my promised something now?"

"We already had a goodnight kiss."

"No we didn't!" she protested. "That was a 'you're-being-stupid-let-me-show-you-how-much' kiss. A goodnight kiss is different."

"I don't see a difference," she said casually. "It was a kiss at the end of the night, therefore a goodnight kiss."

"Is this your way of saying that you don't want to kiss me?"

"Well, we just did," she reasoned. "Do we have to again?"

Rachel looked absolutely crestfallen and it took everything Quinn had not to break the façade right then and there.

"No, we don't have to," her voice trembled, "but there's absolutely no limit on the number of kisses allowed at the end of the night."

"You're the one being such a stickler about the goodnight kiss rule."

"You're being ridiculous!" she huffed, folding her arms across her chest.

"And I have you this close to begging me to kiss you," Quinn smirked, holding up her thumb and forefinger to show her just how.

Maybe she really should look into this desire she had for making Rachel crazy…it couldn't be healthy.

The brunette glowered at her, obviously not finding any amusement in this game. "It's not nice to toy with people's feelings."

"It's called teasing."

"It's mean is what it is."

Quinn snorted. "Just let me kiss you already."

"No. I'm upset now. I don't very much feel like it anymore."

"Seriously?"

She didn't say anything.

"Rachel?"

"I should get going," she said flatly and reached for the door handle. "See you tomorrow."

"Rach!" she exclaimed, worried she had taken it too far. "I-I was just joking! Please?"

The brunette suddenly turned around and settled back into the seat with a victorious grin on her face.

"See? Told you it was mean."

Quinn's eyes narrowed. "You were messing with me?"

"You deserved it," she sang unapologetically.

"You're a pain."

"And you have yet to kiss me."

"So demanding!" she mocked.

"How else do you get what you want?"

"You could say 'please'?" Quinn suggested.

She rolled her eyes. "When have you ever used the word 'please'?"

"We're not talking about me!"

"GET WITH THE KISSING ALREADY, FABRAY!"

"IF YOU SHUT UP LONG ENOUGH, I WILL, BERRY!"

They attacked each other in a flurry of lips, teeth, and tongue, giggling throughout. She practically climbed over the divider just to share the seat with Rachel. They were lucky the Berry's lived on a street that only had a slight incline because Quinn knocked the gearshift into neutral and the car started rolling back ever so slowly. They almost passed the Berry house entirely before one of them noticed or maybe they both noticed at the time, because they screamed in a panic before Quinn slammed safely it back into park.

It took them ages to stop laughing.

"That still wasn't a goodnight kiss," Rachel said when they finally calmed down again.

"You know how you said you were controlling before?" she reminded her, tongue-in-cheek.

"Yes, yes," she rolled her eyes, "it's a work in progress. No one's perfect."

"I'm definitely not," she said with an odd note of forlornness that contrasted with the exuberant spirit of only seconds ago.

"Quinn?" Rachel questioned softly.

She shook her head, looking forward through the windshield at the darkened street.

"I don't want to do it."

"Don't want to do what?"

"Kiss you goodnight."

"Why?"

She still couldn't look at her. Her voice caught in her throat. "I don't want to go."

Quinn couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to happen, that something would go wrong, that tonight was going to be their last night like this. She never wanted to let it go. She wanted Rachel to stay with her in that car forever, just so it wouldn't end.

"It's only 'til tomorrow," she reassured her.

"I still don't want to."

It was stupid, unreasonable, and entirely illogical, but there was still that foreboding feeling sitting heavily in the pit of her stomach…taunting her, warning her. Was it just her fear that good things never lasted that got the best of her? Or was there something more to it? Maybe Rachel's claimed psychic powers were rubbing off on her. She shook her head at the absurdity of that. Her girlfriend was intuitive at times, but hardly psychic, not that she would ever try to argue with her on that point. Pick your battles and all.

Jeez…did she just refer to Rachel as her girlfriend?

Her head was swimming.

"Y-you could…sneak in for another sleepover?" Rachel offered unsurely. "Would you want that?"

Quinn didn't care if she was joking or not. "Yes."

"Oh," she said breathlessly, "then…"

"But I can't. My mom's expecting me home. It's a school night."

"Right, of course." She nodded jerkily, looking disappointed.

With a deep breath, Quinn resigned herself to what she had to do and gave Rachel exactly what she wanted, a perfectly sweet, loving good night kiss. The brunette sighed happily and licked her lips. She closed her eyes at the sight of that tongue on those perfect, full lips.

"Good night, Rachel," she whispered.

"Good night, Quinn."

"Thank you for singing with me today."

"Thank you for the song."

Chapter Text

The next day came and went as though it were nothing at all. So did the day after that. Then it became a week. Quinn's fears, it seemed, were for naught. The only worrisome thing was that the school was beginning to really pick up on their friendship. Some people were starting to understand that Quinn and Rachel were actually friends now. There was some gossip, a few of the older Cheerios complained at one point, but Quinn immediately put a stop to that. Coach Sylvester was simply pleased to see her Captain running the girls ragged with more vigor than usual. After that hellish practice, where Quinn reminded those girls just who they were dealing with, they didn't say much more about it.

Santana didn't say anything at all.

If there were a few odd looks in the halls, Quinn just made sure to go out of her way to be more frightening than usual. As a whole, everything really seemed to be working out pretty decently. Though, she didn't go over to the Berry house as often anymore, only when her Dads weren't there. Rachel certainly didn't like that at first. She didn't want her avoiding her parents just because of tension and she thought Quinn was just trying to skirt an uncomfortable issue that she simply needed to deal with.

Quinn curtly explained that it made her feel awkward and gave nothing more. She would never tell Rachel about what she overheard the men arguing about that night. What good would come of it? Instead, she'd just make things easier on them all and stay out of the Berry men's sight as much as possible. It was better that way.

In the end, Rachel caved, even though she protested that it meant they would be spending less time with each other as a result. Quinn didn't like it either, but promised to try to make up for it by figuring out how they could be together elsewhere. Though Rachel didn't say it, Quinn knew the reason that the girl hadn't put up a big fight about the issue with her Dads was that she was struggling with them herself.

Her parents were being secretive and overall very strange about Quinn. Rachel had never known them to be like this before. She'd always had an open and honest relationship with her Dads, so this was something very new and unfortunately distressing. Yes, her rather checkered past with Quinn Fabray was something predictably worrisome for her loving, protective parents, but this was something else altogether. They absolutely refused to see Quinn on any other level, no matter how much she explained, begged, pleaded, reasoned, cajoled, and at one low point, extorted. None of it made a difference and she didn't understand it in the slightest. Her fathers had always been open, accepting, reasonable men. Yet, it was like Quinn was the one person in the world that proved the exception to the rule.

She asked Quinn once, and only once, if she would consider letting her reveal the true nature of their relationship to her Dads. If they understood what was happening, it would change their views entirely. Honestly, Rachel thought it might even help Quinn if she was able to talk to her fathers about what she was going through. She herself had been raised to accept love in all forms and had no difficulties accepting her feelings for Quinn, at least, no difficulty in the fact that Quinn was a girl. The fact that Quinn was Quinn…well…that was something else.

She wanted so much to tell her parents about what was happening, but she didn't want to betray her Quinn's trust. So she'd broached the subject as carefully as she could, but the blonde wouldn't hear a word of it. She grew angry, shut down completely, and stormed out. The next day, Rachel had to swear she would never tell them before Quinn could move past it.

All of this was just so exhausting. And it didn't make sense!

A divide was falling between her and her Dads. They didn't talk as much as they used to. She didn't make the effort and neither did they. Rachel knew why she was keeping her secret, but there was something they weren't telling her either. That honesty that had always been such a valued staple to their family life and relationship was breaking down; something was changing between them. It wasn't as though they were arguing and raging at each other; it was still relatively normal and calm in the Berry household, but it wasn't the same either.

Rachel did wonder, with some hurt on her part, why Quinn never asked her over to her house. It's not like she had to be outright introduced to Judy Fabray as the bisexual girlfriend. Why couldn't they use the guise of friendship at Quinn's house as they did at hers? Yet she was too nervous to broach it. If Quinn wanted her at her house, she would have asked, and she never did. So they just stuck to Rachel's, neither one of them speaking of the alternative.

It was one of those nights - a Saturday. Quinn gladly begged off attending another Puckerman rager in favor of cuddling with Rachel on her bed while her fathers were at a dinner party. Rachel was playing some of her favorite Broadway songs for Quinn (so she could be better informed on the subject, of course). Quinn didn't protest. She was wrapped up in Rachel's arms, warm, relaxed, peaceful. That was more than enough. And the music wasn't that bad. Some of it was actually really good, but she wasn't going to admit to that. Leave the diva hanging a little, get her a bit worked up over it.

Seriously, she needed this habit checked into.

"Had you always known?" Rachel asked suddenly.

They hadn't spoken for a little while - just listening, letting hands wander innocently, but Quinn wasn't surprised by the abrupt question. She was starting to get used to Rachel's way of - how to describe it? - communicating. Maybe that wasn't right. Whatever it was, she was starting to know Rachel and she really liked that she did. She wanted to know her better than anyone, all the little things, all the big things, the secrets and the not-so-secret. She wanted to be that person.

It'd never really mattered to her before in previous relationships. She didn't care what Finn's favorite food was. She didn't pay attention to a word of what Puck said about Super Mario Kart. She never bothered to find out more about Sam's hobbies or try to understand his lame impressions. Those relationships had always been about certain terms that needed to be met, standards, quotas to be filled, a strictly outlined form of how things were to be conducted so as to appear in a certain way to the public eye. It was never about them. It was never about her, just the appearance of her, so to speak.

Yet she knew more about Rachel than she cared to know about all of her past boyfriends combined and it wasn't even close to being enough.

"Known what?" she replied lazily, trailing her fingers up and down the other girl's bare arm.

"That you were gay," Rachel said bluntly. "Did you always know and just denied it all this time?"

Quinn hesitated in her movements before continuing slowly. "I dunno."

"That is not an answer."

"Actually, it is."

"No," she said firmly. "It is a lazy, mumbled, nonsensical word that has no truth to it. You do know. Now tell me."

She gave her a look. "You're being bossy."

"It's part of my charm."

"That's highly debatable."

"Quinn!"

"I really didn't know, Rach. Honest." She groaned and pulled her closer, slipping a leg between hers. Quinn was using Rachel's arm as a pillow, it was curled around her shoulders, but they were lying side by side now, pressed against each other from breasts to ankles. If Rachel hadn't brought up this inordinately difficult topic of conversation, they would have certainly been doing something else by now. "But I guess that's because I was probably so hell-bent on not knowing."

The brunette frowned. "I don't understand."

She interlaced their fingers and stared at them for a moment. Fair against tan, perfectly manicured nails, longer fingers, shorter fingers, graceful fingers, fiery fingers. She smiled inwardly at her own inane musing. She liked the way their hands looked together.

"Okay…" she breathed in uncomfortably, trying to work up the nerve to talk about this. "There was this time, back in the beginning of freshman year, when I first started showering with other girls…that I would…I would kind of look sometimes."

"I see…" Rachel drawled teasingly.

Quinn wasn't of a mind to be lighthearted about this. "I always thought it was just for comparison. You know, the normal kind. Girls sizing up other girls. My mother always talked about it. She does it to every female that crosses her path, no matter the age. She finds something to criticize. Something she has that's better than them. Anyway, that's what I thought it was about, but…"

"Yes?"

Quinn heaved a sigh and shifted anxiously. This really wasn't easy to talk about. In fact, she hated it. Sometimes she felt like she was too open with this girl, too trusting…but it was Rachel.

"Do you remember Bianca Perry? The senior captain?"

"The tall, gorgeous brunette? Looked like just she walked out of a Brazilian swimsuit magazine?"

"That's the one."

"Y-you were attracted to her?"

Quinn noticed the tremor in her voice, but kept on. "We were in the showers after practice, she was next to me, and I just kind of happened to notice, nothing new, but I…" She swallowed painfully. "I felt something. I didn't even know what. All I know is that it freaked me out so badly, I never looked again. After that, I was always the first one in the showers and the first one out. It just became routine. I didn't think about it. It didn't exist."

"You were able to stop?" Rachel lifted herself on her elbows to lean over her, large doe eyes peering into her with such sympathy. "Just like that?"

"I didn't have a choice."

"There's always a choice."

"You're telling me I chose to be this way?" Quinn retorted harshly, unable to believe that she would even have the nerve to say such a thing.

"Of course not," she replied patiently. "Feelings are one thing. We don't get a say in that. But there's always a choice in whether or not we act on them. Good or bad. Right or wrong. Wanting or not. You could have chosen not to kiss me."

"No, I couldn't have."

Rachel was taken aback. "What?"

She really didn't understand, did she?

"You were never a choice, Rachel. You just…were. No decisions. No thoughts. Just you." She sighed. "It was never a choice."

Quinn watched as the other girl ruminated on that for a while. Her brow drawn in concentration, her nose scrunched up as she tried to puzzle out some insanely long and convoluted repartee with herself as her brain went to places even Quinn would never understand as hard as she tried. Instead of asking her what she was thinking, she just nuzzled her nose lightly, trying to break her out of the serious mindset. It worked, in part at least, because Rachel eyes refocused on her and she smiled.

"Does it scare you?" she asked quietly.

She had to think about that. After a moment, she looked back at the brown eyed girl who was still watching her intently.

"I spend my days between being...so happy….and completely terrified."

"You don't talk to me about it. I so wish you would, Quinn."

About what it meant to be gay. What it meant for her life. Who she was. What they were doing. How everything was hidden. About being strong enough to be herself for the world to know and see.

She wasn't ready. And she wasn't going to be ready for a long time. Sure, announcing she was a lesbian and dating Rachel Berry would destroy her reputation…permanently, in a way that even getting pregnant hadn't done, but that wasn't the real problem. It was a scary thing, to have to give that up. It meant leaving behind all the things she had clung to so desperately before. She didn't want that; she liked having the power, being on that pedestal in school. She wanted to keep it. But it wasn't the problem.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Talking helps," Rachel reasoned carefully. "It gives you a chance to express thoughts, feelings, fears that otherwise fester and worsen if kept bottled up."

"You're probably right."

Yet, it wasn't a concession in any way, shape, or form, and Rachel knew it.

"But you still don't want to talk about it," she said wearily.

"I still don't want to talk about it."

It broke Rachel's heart to hear how Quinn had been trying so hard all these years to repress her true nature. To think that she was so afraid of what it meant, that she denied a part of herself so completely…? How can a person live like that? Denying something essential to your very being? It was making sense now. How terribly Quinn had treated her. How obsessive her need to stay on top at school was. The boys she dated. And it particularly explained why Quinn had pursued her in the manner she did. Those natural urges she'd been suppressing for so long starting bursting through in a rather inappropriate and relatively unhealthy way.

Still. That was slowly being corrected and how could she fault Quinn for her methods when without them they wouldn't be where they were. Then again, if Quinn hadn't been wound so tightly, it could have saved them both a lot of time and trouble, while also saving Rachel the pain of being the outlet to her misplaced anger. Well, hindsight is 20/20. It didn't matter anymore how they got here. They were here, and the future was all that mattered, a future she most definitely wanted with Quinn Fabray.

It made Rachel want to cry when she thought about how stifled, self-loathing, and scared her girlfriend must have been, and still was to a certain extent. She wanted nothing more than to be able to help her, to make her feel better about herself, to show her everything that she was and all that she had to be proud of. But Quinn wasn't ready to hear it yet…not completely. It didn't discourage her though. Quinn needed time. She had faith that Quinn would one day be ready to accept herself fully and she couldn't wait for that day. Quinn deserved happiness, even if she didn't believe herself worthy of it. Rachel would convince her.

The blonde was watching her with thoughtful eyes and she tried to pull herself out of the musings again. They weren't going to talk about it so she just had to let it go…for now.

In setting aside that topic, Rachel fell upon another that had made her heart clench the moment Quinn spoke the words. She didn't want to sound needy or jealous, like Finn had always accused her of when she jumped on him for this sort of thing, but she had to know. Her mind was already spinning off with sordid scenarios and those dark, sickly feelings were working their way through.

"So…you liked her?" she tried as casually as possible.

"Who?" Quinn replied absently as she ran her fingers through the ends of Rachel's hair, seeming much more focused on that than the question.

"Bianca."

"Oh God no!" she snapped to attention, giving her a horrified look. "I hated her. That girl was psychotic. She once took a bat to her boyfriend's car 'cause he wouldn't get her a caramel macchiato in the middle of the school day."

Rachel gasped. "I thought that was just a rumor!"

"Oh, it happened. His parents pressed charges, but Coach Sylvester stepped in somehow and made it go away. I have no idea how and I don't ever want to know."

"B-but you admit you were attracted to her."

"I don't know," she muttered, "maybe."

"It was enough to freak you out."

"I told you," Quinn replied firmly, "I didn't think about it. Just shoved it away, ignored it, pretended like it never existed. I didn't know what it was I felt, but I really didn't want to feel it again."

"Is that your type?" she pressed, knowing she was digging herself into a hole here, but it wasn't in her nature to stop. Her masochism tended to get the best of her sometimes.

"What?"

"The tall, exotic, sex on a stick, sort of look. Is that your type? Is that what you find attractive?"

Quinn was bewildered, not to mention extremely uncomfortable.

"A-a type? I don't have a…" she stammered. "I've barely even… Why are you asking me this?"

"I'm just interested to know what you find physically appealing now that you've started to open yourself up to your true feelings."

She sat up, abruptly disentangling them, while Rachel remained on her side as calmly as possible, propped up by her elbow.

"Liar."

"Excuse me?"

"You're such a liar. This isn't about mere curiosity, it's about your insecurity. You're worried that I think Bianca Perry is hotter than you."

"Well, of course you do!" she shot back. "She was considered practically a goddess at McKinley. Santana even came second to her."

"From the way you're talking, it seems like you're the one into her!"

"I certainly am not!" she said indignantly. "I was never attracted to Bianca Perry, Quinn. I appreciated her looks, but there is a distinction between thinking someone is good looking and being attracted to them. You're being very defensive."

"I'm annoyed!"

"Why would you be annoyed?"

"Because how could you possibly believe that I would think anyone is more beautiful than you?"

Rachel was stunned. It took her a few moments to recuperate enough for a response.

"I-I never said that."

"I know you. I can see it. That's what you were thinking. What do you think is going to happen here, Rachel? I admit I'm gay, slum around with you for a while, then move on to bigger, better things? Hotter, sexier girls?"

"Maybe?" she whispered.

"What is wrong with you?" she cried. "Yes, Bianca was hot. She was gorgeous. I think she's modeling in Europe now. But she doesn't hold a candle to you."

"Quinn, I won't be ridicul-"

"You're so beautiful, Rachel. Don't you see that? Don't you see how much I want you whenever we're together? I can't keep my hands off you. I want to be with you all the time. I want to kiss you all the time. I can't…I can't stand to hear you talk this way. It…hurts to think that you don't know that about yourself."

Rachel gave her a dark look that Quinn knew she deserved.

"Because you feel guilty for your part in it?"

She looked away sadly. "That too."

"You really think I'm beautiful?"

"In every way."

She saw the jumbo sized cup before anything else. Instinct like none other had her bracing for the sudden impact, eyes shut tight. Yet the expected never came. Still bracing, she opened one eye to peek and Santana Lopez was standing nonchalantly in front of her holding a giant purple slushie.

"Just do it already," Rachel groaned.

"Do what?" she replied with an innocently raised eyebrow.

The Latina pulled out a straw, plopped it in, and took a long sip before releasing it with a pop. Smacking her lips at the taste, she frowned curiously over Rachel.

"What?" she asked with a shrug. "Oh! Did you think you were going to get your weekly slushie facial this morning? Tsk, sorry to disappoint, Manhands. Maybe tomorrow. That is, if Quinn comes to her senses by then and lifts the ban, of course."

"If you're not going to throw that in my face…which I still kind of think you are…then what do you want?"

She shrugged again, but the look on her face said something else entirely.

"Nothing. Nothing at all. Just thought you should know - whatever it is that's going on between you and blondie? I'm going to find out. And you best be believing it's not a matter of if, but when. So until then…enjoy." She handed her the cup. "Grape's your favorite right?"

She was still holding the slushie, frozen in place, long after Santana had sauntered out of sight.

Rachel started beaming the moment Quinn walked through the door to the choir room. She couldn't help it. Just the sight of the blonde made her heart race, her stomach flip, and happiness shoot through her veins.

She really needed to get herself under control. How were they supposed to continue to be a secret if she kept grinning at her like this? Even the emo!punk blind kid who tripped people in the halls with his walking stick for fun would be able to pick up on it. Now that Santana was on the warpath, they had to be especially careful.

Quinn smiled back and seated herself next to her. Fortunately, it was early yet for Glee club, and they were only ones in the choir room.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Hi," Rachel replied and before she knew it, she was kissing her.

It was soft, and brief, and not nearly enough, but it was something. They released each other with a sigh, still wary of their surroundings and that someone could walk through the door any minute now.

"I feel like I haven't seen you all day and it was only three periods ago."

Quinn's eyes sparkled and she tucked back the few strands of hair that had fallen into Rachel's face, biting her lower lip. "I know what you mean."

Rachel was desperately trying not to kiss her again, especially since they were alone, but then it occurred to her…they weren't supposed to be alone.

"Where is everybody? They're going to be late…" She looked around at the empty seats reproachfully.

Quinn was licking her lips with a frown, as if tasting something strange, and all of a sudden grabbed Rachel's chin.

Rachel looked at her with wide eyes. "What?"

"Open your mouth," she demanded in her no nonsense tone.

Before even considering a reply, Rachel did as Quinn ordered.

"You taste like grape and your tongue is purple," she said, her brow furrowed. "Why do you taste like grape and why is your tongue purple?"

"Oh!" She shrugged, relieved that's all it was. Really, Quinn gave her a run for the melodramatic tendencies sometimes. "Santana gave me a grape slushie earlier."

The blonde's cheeks flamed with anger. "She did WHAT? I will kill her. I will freaking destroy that bi-"

Rachel was struggling to pull the raging cheerleader back into her seat as she tried to storm out of the room.

"Quinn! Quinn! Stop! She gave me a slushie, as in handed it to me! She didn't toss it in my face as per the usual treatment."

That stopped her. She turned around with a confused look and Rachel felt confident enough to release the hold on her wrist.

"She did what?"

"I am just as baffled as you are on the matter."

"Wait…you're telling me that Santana – Santana Lopez – offered you a slushie, instead of drowning you with it, and you…drank it?"

"Yes?"

"Rachel! She could have poisoned it or something!" Quinn said in disbelief. "What were you thinking?"

"She wouldn't do that!" she protested with a frown. "…Would she?"

Quinn scoffed.

She shook her head. "No, I saw her drink from it first. Besides, it was my favorite. I didn't want it to go to waste."

"You do realize that if she didn't poison it, and that's probably true seeing as how you're still alive right now, she could have spit in it? Or she was only pretending to drink from it and like…had the whole football team spit in it? Or worse…"

All the color drained from Rachel's face.

"Oh…my…God…" She started hyperventilating. "I didn't even think… I drank the whole thing… Oh, I'm going to be sick…" She collapsed onto a chair and Quinn dropped beside her, rubbing her back soothingly as she put her head between her knees.

"Just take it back, take it back, and we'll pretend I never heard it, and it never happened," Rachel whined.

"Okay, okay, I take it back," she said quickly. "I'm sure nothing was wrong with it. Santana was just trying to mess with your head. She didn't do anything bad to it. You're fine, sweetie. Don't throw up."

"Right…okay...won't throw up…good…" Rachel nodded through deep breaths.

The rest of the Glee club started filtering in and Quinn had to take her hand away, but fortunately some color had reappeared in the girl's cheeks.

"Good lord, Rachel, you look like someone just attempted a gangsta rap remake of Barbra's 'People'," Kurt said, sitting down in the row behind her. "Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine!" she rasped, head in her hands.

Quinn just shrugged, pretending not to know, but shot her girlfriend another worried look.

Santana was on the scent now. They had to be even more careful.

It was their lunch day. Once a week, the two of them would forego the usual cafeteria routine at separate tables, Rachel with the excuse of extra credit work in Chemistry (the pun not lost on Quinn when she came up with it), and Quinn with the excuse of Coach Sylvester imposing a mandatory weekly meeting so she could plot how to win Nationals both by legal and illegal measures if necessary (it was coming up soon and Sue was obsessively worse than her usual terrible self so no one batted an eye).

Today Rachel had wanted to meet in the auditorium, which Quinn was excited about because that usually meant less lunch and more Rachel. When she walked in, she noted with curiosity that the curtain on the stage was closed instead of open as usual. She went around backstage and found the brunette laying out a blanket on the stage floor, a picnic basket sitting next to her, and some pillows.

"What are you doing?"

"If you're so convinced you'll be valedictorian, surely you should be intelligent enough to put the pieces together," she said dryly, but looked up at her with a teasing grin.

"It's…it's nice, but we're…" Quinn trailed off and looked around as if there would be someone lurking in the shadowed corners to see.

"Completely alone," she finished for her knowingly. "No one comes in here besides Glee club and the band, and not even they will come here during lunch period. It's just us. Promise. I even closed the curtain. It's cozy and romantic."

Quinn was still wary, but she didn't want to disappoint Rachel, who looked so hopeful as she started pulling out carefully packed food. It was a bigger risk than they usually took; if someone walked in, it would be impossible to explain away as nothing. So she stood there, still a little ways off in the wings, unable to make herself take those steps forward.

There was something else she didn't like about this.

Rachel looked up with a small frown, realizing that Quinn hadn't joined her yet. The frown deepened when she saw her still standing there in the shadows.

"What's wrong?" she asked timidly, folding her hands on her lap. "Is…is it too much?"

"You've done this before," Quinn said more harshly than she intended to, but didn't regret it.

She didn't know why she felt so strongly about this, why she had such a feeling about it… Maybe it was how practiced Rachel looked in her movements. Maybe that was what gave it away. She looked like she knew exactly what she was doing. There was no hesitancy, no uncertainty, in a way that can only come from having experience.

So much was going through her mind right now and anger was the first familiar emotion she latched onto.

Rachel was shocked, but, didn't refute the accusation, as Quinn expected. That didn't mean it didn't hurt more to have it confirmed.

"O-oh, I…yes…well…" she stumbled over the words.

Of course, she hadn't thought she'd be caught. Quinn's chest heaved with rage as she stormed over to the blanket and glared down at the now sheepish looking brunette.

"With Finn?" she spat.

It had been a question, but she didn't need an answer. Quinn just wanted it said out loud.

Rachel's cheeks got redder.

"Yes," she whispered reluctantly, "But, Quinn, please let me explain-"

"So I'm just getting his sloppy seconds? Is that it? Did you really think you could fool me? I'm second to no one, Rachel! No one! And you don't get to make this out to be some sappy, romantic thing for me when you've already done this for another guy. How dare y-"

"STOP IT!" she yelled and stood up. She didn't look quite so embarrassed anymore, just angry.

Well, who the hell gave her the right to be angry too?

"Oh, you're going to yell at me now? Screw you, Rachel! You were all over him even when we were together. Even when I was pregnant! I accepted that Finn cheated on me. Fine. I slept with Puck after all. But you…how could you? You know how I feel about you and Finn, and you just go and…pull this?" She shook her head furiously. "I'm out of here! You can just go to hell for all I care."

She spun around to leave, but Rachel had a firm grip on her arm.

"Quinn, no, don't go! Please!"

The contact only infuriated her all the more and she flung her off roughly.

"Would you stop?" She stepped back and folded hers arms across her chest tightly. "Just stop shouting and let me explain."

"Go right ahead," she sneered, "explain."

Rachel lifted her chin determinedly. "I did do this for Finn once. I've had this…fantasy, long before he even came into the picture, of how romantic it would be to have this sort of picnic on the stage. The lights shining down, the rows and rows of empty seats, being completely alone, just two people up here in an enormous room, and feeling like you've never been less alone. I always wondered what it would be like, to have someone I…cared about…be here with me, to share my stage, and how romantic and wonderful it would be."

She sighed.

"Everyone knows how much I love the stage, how I crave the spotlight, but it is lonely sometimes, so I always wondered if I could bring someone into it with me. That way I get my moment, but I also get…" she trailed off and Quinn wondered what it was she wanted to say, but didn't seem to be able.

"I thought Finn could be that person, but…it wasn't…it wasn't what I expected. It didn't feel right. It was awkward and strange and…I don't know. I thought it was just my expectations being too high, but then you happened and I started thinking about how much I really wanted this with you. I didn't even have to wonder if it was going to be all that I hoped for because you've already exceeded all my expectations, Quinn. I'm sorry I made you feel like I was re-dating, or whatever you might call it, but I really just wanted to have the chance to get it right this time. With you."

Quinn didn't say anything.

"Are you still mad at me?"

"Did you kiss him?"

"Yes," her voice cracked. "I-it was the first time we ever kissed, actually."

"And he was still with me, wasn't he?"

She swallowed thickly, looking more ashamed than ever. "Yes. Before he knew you were pregnant."

Quinn breathed in sharply and waved her hands as she backed away from the other girl. "I can't hear this…I just can't…"

"I'm sorry," Rachel said miserably. "This was such a bad idea. I don't know what I was thinking." She turned away just as the tears began to fall and crouched down to pack up the food.

She was just about to start folding up the blanket when a loud cranking sound made her whirl around. The curtains fell back, brightly opening up the stage to the rest of the auditorium. When they were all the way back, Quinn reappeared and kneeled down beside her without a word. She smoothed out the blanket and arranged the pillows so that she could lie down comfortably.

Rachel looked on, speechless.

"Did you bring me something non-vegan?" she asked lazily, pushing down her Cheerios skirt a little.

"Y-yes," she stammered, still in shock at the abrupt turn, and brushed away the remnants of her tears. "You really still want to?"

Quinn rolled onto her side, propping her head up on her arm. It was a few long moments before she finally spoke. "I'm sorry I yelled at you," she said, running her fingers along the blanket, not looking Rachel in the eye. "I-I don't like knowing that he…" Her voice grew strained, like she was fighting back tears. "I can't handle hearing about you with him. I'm over him cheating on me, I don't really care anymore. It did sting at first that he would betray me like that, but hey, look what I did to him." She shook her head bitterly. "But that it was with you? I-I don't… I hate that he was with you, Rachel. So much. I can't stand it. And then this…when all I want is to forget that he ever got to…"

"I understand," she said remorsefully. "Truly. I'm so sorry, Quinn. I should have given you some warning. In retrospect, it was a discussion we should have had, rather than a surprise."

"But surprises are more romantic, right?" she replied knowingly.

The brunette grinned bashfully and nodded.

She took a deep breath. "You wanted a romantic lunch with me, Rachel Berry, and you're going to have one. Give me food."

She laughed and rolled her eyes. "And that is just so romantic."

Quinn pushed herself up on her arms, leaned in, and kissed her sweetly, lingering in its final few moments as long as she could.

"Is it more romantic now?"

The flush of Rachel's cheeks was her answer.

"Better than him, right?"

Rachel pulled her back to her mouth. "So much better."

When they finally got around to the food, which was actually when Quinn started whining about how hungry she was, Rachel unpacked the picnic basket again and the blonde's eyes widened as she really saw what was there now.

"Don't tell me that's…"

"Yup," Rachel said with a glowing smile. "An assortment of specialties straight from Charlie's Delicatessen."

Quinn's eyes were as round as saucers. "My favorite sandwich?"

"With extra bacon."

She gasped and looked at Rachel, then back at the food, then back to Rachel before launching herself at the other girl. Rachel squealed delightedly and they went tumbling backwards, Quinn kissing her all over her face.

"You – are – the best – ever."

"You only say that because I gave you bacon," Rachel pouted, "which was extremely difficult due to my strong personal beli-"

Quinn muffled the rest by covering her mouth with her own.

Chapter Text

"It has got to be disgusting up there."

"Think of the spiders. If we shined a light right there, imagine the amount of cobwebs we'd see."

"I'd rather not, thank you."

"At least the stage is cleaner."

"But what if one of the spiders dropped down in the middle of a performance…"

"QUINN! I don't need nightmares!"

"I'm giving myself nightmares."

"Perhaps we should stop staring at the ceiling then."

She turned her head to the side so she could see Rachel. "What should we stare at then?"

The brunette turned as well and smiled at meeting Quinn's eyes. "This right here isn't so bad."

"Not an eyesore?"

"You're beautiful and you know it."

"Of course I do."

"Do you really?"

Quinn gave her a look that let Rachel know she wasn't going to answer and they were going to drop that line of conversation.

"I'm so full," she moaned and rubbed her stomach.

"I tried to stop you."

"It was all so good though! Charlie's is my weakness. I practically lived there when I was pregnant. If they could have set up a cot for me in the corner, I would have been set. All the guys in there know me by name."

"They should name that sandwich after you."

"Oh, my crowning glory. Who needs Prom Queen when I've got a deli sandwich with my name?"

"I'd call it… 'The Bacon Quinn'."

She groaned and gave her an exasperated look. "That is the lamest thing I've ever heard."

"What? I think it's great! In fact, I'll go in there tomorrow and suggest it. After all the business you've given them, surely you deserve it."

"You wouldn't dare!"

Rachel giggled. "It'll be perfect! Your name up there on the board in chalk, I'll make sure they do it in extra bold letters. Multicolored!"

"You better be joking right now."

"Am I?"

"I would never speak to you again."

"I'd be okay with that," she shrugged, "you don't have to talk, as long as we do other things."

Quinn gasped in outrage and Rachel laughed gleefully.

"You are such a tease."

"And you love it."

They laid there in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. Rachel was scrutinizing the track lights (off at the moment) while Quinn simply watched her. She had to give herself a small pep talk before she could work up the nerve enough to say it. Turning on her side, she leaned on her elbow and looked down into Rachel's eyes.

"You don't call me enough."

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "We talk on the phone nearly every day."

"Once a day," she corrected her. "Exactly once a day we talk, usually at night. Never more than once. And you text me three times a day. No more, no less. Even if it means not replying, you won't let it go over three."

"You've been counting?"

"What's going on? Why don't you call me more? Why don't you annoy me?"

"Hold on," Rachel scoffed in disbelief and sat up, leading Quinn to do the same. "Let me get this straight. You're sincerely asking me why I don't call you so often that it starts to annoy you?"

"I want to call you all the time," she huffed. "I always want to talk to you, but you're so standoffish sometimes. You…you weren't like that with the others."

"The others?"

"Finn…Jesse…even Puck."

She started to get uncomfortable. "Quinn, I don't-"

"Is it me?" she pressed. "Do you just not feel that way with me? You practically owned their phones with how much you blew them up. But you're not like that with me. I can handle the truth, okay? I just want to know."

Rachel looked almost…amused. How was this in any way funny?

"So what you're saying is that you want me to badger you incessantly with phone calls, emails, text messages, handwritten notes, and baked goods with handwritten notes in them, until you're severely irritated and feel like I'm smothering you?"

"Yes!" she cried and then thought about it. "Well, no. Actually, yes. I don't know! I just mean… I want more."

I want you to need me like I need you.

But she couldn't say that.

Rachel flung herself into Quinn's arms, causing the girl to fall backwards onto the pillows, and knelt over her, giggling madly.

"Quinn! You have absolutely no idea how difficult it has been to contain myself, to ignore practically my every instinct in an effort not to scare you away. I didn't want to make the same mistakes as I have in the past so I put a limit on the number of times I was allowed to contact you within in a twenty four hour period. No matter how much I wanted to call or text you, I would resist because I…I have to break my bad habits."

Then there was that sad smile on her face that Quinn hated to see. It was the same one she had after Finn would say something stupid and hurtful. It was the one she had when she felt ashamed.

"I don't want you to get sick of me," she said quietly.

"Rachel…" she sat up and wrapped her arm around her waist, pulling her close so that the girl was sitting on her lap, "I don't think I can ever be sick of you."

"Don't say that," she shook her head, looking away.

"But I mean it," she insisted and cupped her cheek, gently urging her to meet her eyes. She did so hesitantly and Quinn smiled up at her.

How can I tell you all that you are? How can I make you understand?

"Don't ignore those instincts anymore. I-I want it. Okay?"

Rachel kissed her fiercely.

When they finally left each other to continue the rest of the day, it wasn't a minute before Quinn's phone vibrated.

I'm worried you'll regret this.

I might.

That's not comforting.

Honesty is the best policy. Aren't you always the one telling me that?

Fine. But is it possible for you to be honest as well as reassuring?

I'll work on it.

There was a few minutes break and she tried to pay attention to her teacher in the front of the class, but her mind was stuck on Rachel. Quinn wondered if she would reply or if she should say something else. But then another message came.

I miss you already.

She smiled to herself, feeling giddy and warm all over. This was turning out better than she ever thought. Why hadn't she said something to Rachel sooner? Too chicken, of course. It scared her to think of what it might have meant otherwise. All this time she'd been afraid that Rachel just didn't share her feelings completely – that Quinn was just her rebound. She was slowly starting to understand that it wasn't that at all.

Next year we should make sure all of our classes are together.

Do not joke about things like that with me, Quinn Fabray. I'll do it. I'll break into the office with Puckerman and hack into the computer system if necessary.

She giggled at the mental image that conjured. Rachel and Puck in ninja gear, ski masks, picking the lock into the school, bickering when Puck decides he wants to super glue the secretary's desk shut… Then she tried to cover it by coughing when she got some looks from people in the class.

No joke. Physics will be much more tolerable if I have you for a lab partner.

I'll start working on it immediately! We might have to bribe some people in the office…I'll discuss it with Noah. Leave it to me!

Her teacher was giving them an assignment so Quinn stopped for a few minutes to write it down. When the woman went back to lecturing, she went back to her phone. It took her a few moments of tapping anxiously on the keyboard before she finally typed out what she wanted to say.

Was it what you wanted? Even though I yelled at you at first?

Her stomach rolled and her palms grew damp as she waited for a response. What was taking her so damn long? Quinn rapped her fingernails on the desk, brimming with nervous energy. The boy next to her gave her an annoyed look and she glared at him so fiercely, he cowered and turned away, not looking at her for the rest of the period. Finally she had a reply.

It was wonderful (even with the yelling). I knew it would be. It's you.

Quinn breathed in deeply and the anxiety melted away. She hadn't ruined it. Rachel was happy. Everything was okay.

I still feel so full. I might throw up.

Maybe next time you'll listen to me!

Oh, don't nag.

Shhh. I can't talk anymore. Mr. Grayson is glaring at me. I think he knows.

Did no one teach you how to text under the desk?

I'm trying! It's not like I ever do this with anyone… I should be paying attention to the lesson!

But you'd rather talk to me.

Always... It seems there is little I wouldn't do for you Miss Fabray.

I'll remember that.

And I'm sure you'll make me regret it.

Quinn thought for a few seconds about her next message.

Are your Dads going to be home tonight?

No, actually. I think they have a work function to attend.

Can I come over? Do our homework together?

Are you really going to let me get any homework done?

She smiled widely and covered her mouth with her hand so her teacher didn't get suspicious, which she likely already was.

Cross my heart.

Liar.

Her silly grin was giving her away. She'd been right about her teacher being suspicious. The woman was glaring at her now with that look on her face like she was going to try and take her phone. Well, that wasn't happening on any planet. Quinn was the Captain of the Cheerios. None of the teachers messed with her unless they wanted the wrath of Sue Sylvester upon them. But this particular woman would at least put up a fight.

Crap. Mrs. Farnessi is coming over. I can't talk anymore.

Did no one teach YOU how to text under the desk?

Nag!

Bacon Quinn.

Quinn went to Rachel's straight from practice. She brought a change of clothes and showered while Rachel made them dinner. Rather, she ordered take out. It was easier since Quinn was absolutely against all the vegan options Rachel had made her try so far. She knew the girl was going to keep trying though so she'd just have to put up with it.

They ate at the dining room table and Rachel got to play footsie with her like she had wanted to that night at Breadstix. It was silly and perfect. They couldn't stop laughing.

After dinner, the diva was adamant about them starting their homework, since it was already getting late, and Quinn reluctantly agreed. She settled herself at Rachel's desk while Rachel was on her bed, books opened, papers everywhere. It was quiet, which had annoyed Quinn the first few times they tried doing homework together. She liked having music on in the background, but Rachel was a firm believer in radio silence during academic work because music was distracting. It's the one place in life music didn't belong, she explained, which shocked Quinn because Rachel sometimes acted like music could cure cancer if you tried hard enough. She could find a purpose for it anywhere…except during homework apparently.

They'd argued about it, Quinn saying she couldn't concentrate without it, Rachel saying that was contradictory because it was actually a distraction. In the end, Rachel claimed the right to set the rules in her house. Quinn couldn't refute and begrudgingly gave in. She was starting to get used to it by now…though it was still annoying.

"You don't kiss me enough."

Quinn stopped in the middle of a sentence on her history assignment and looked up at the ceiling to consider whether or not she heard that right. Yep, she definitely heard right. Putting down her pen, she swiveled around in the chair to fixate on the brunette who was staring right back at her, sitting upright, legs folded underneath her, homework forgotten.

"Excuse me?" she said pointedly with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, I didn't mean it quite like that," Rachel backtracked.

"I should think not."

"We kiss often."

"Uh, yes."

"But you don't…" she trailed off and blushed slightly, which piqued Quinn's curiosity all the more. She rolled the chair closer to the bed.

"What?"

"While I am perfectly content with our current situation-"

"I hate that word," she said sullenly.

Rachel held her hands up apologetically. "I'll rephrase. I'm not complaining in any way, shape, or form, but…I do feel as though our level of physical intimacy has receded somewhat."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't get defensive. Just hear me out."

Quinn crossed her arms in a decidedly defensive manner, which made Rachel give her an exasperated look.

"Let me preface this with the understanding that I am not ready to give myself to you fully in that way. That's not what this about."

"Okay…"

"But before we made our relationship official, we were further along…i-in our familiarity with each other. Yet ever since we decided to be together, it hasn't been like that anymore - which I find completely backwards."

Her mouth dropped open. "You think we don't do enough?"

"No! Maybe. I don't know," she said bashfully. "It's just…we were doing more, Quinn, and now, although it's wonderful, please don't misunderstand me, whenever we have time together it's been relatively tame compared to what we were engaging in before. With the exception of that janitor's closet interlude, hands have always remained in respectable places, clothing is never removed. Again, please know that I'm not dissatisfied in any way with where we are, but I would like to understand why it's…"she shifted apprehensively, "changed."

Quinn was really just trying to wrap her head around the fact that they were actually having this conversation.

"I-I wasn't thinking about it before."

As soon as the words came out of her mouth, she knew she had said the wrong thing. Rachel immediately lowered her head, looking absolutely wounded, as if Quinn had just said she resembled a bug or something.

"So now that you actually have to think about doing things to me, you don't want to?"

She was momentarily distracted by the mention of "doing things" to Rachel.

God, what she would give to…

"Quinn!" she snapped, aggravated at seeing the glazed over look in her eyes, thinking she wasn't paying attention.

"I didn't mean it like that and you know it," she replied seriously. "It's just…different now. That's all."

"I can't help but feel like your attraction to me has lessened."

She rolled her eyes. "Now you're being ridiculous."

"My feelings are hardly a thing to be ridiculed, Quinn."

She adjusted herself in the chair uneasily, uncrossing her legs and bringing her arms down to grip both sides of the seat. She needed to hold on to something right now.

"When I say things are different, I mean that there's more at stake. We…we're…I don't want to rush it. I wasn't thinking before, just doing. I was doing things that I wasn't even ready for. I was so…confused. I had all these feelings and I just wanted to get rid of them so-"

"You thought grinding against me while we were on a piano was going make it go away?" Rachel replied incredulously.

Quinn blushed at the memory. "I wasn't thinking!"

"You were just doing…" she repeated with a nod, starting to understand. "You were acting on your repressed urges without allowing yourself to comprehend them fully."

"Yes?" she admitted reluctantly, uncomfortable with hearing her say it so…clinically, like she was some textbook case of repressed gaydom.

"I see. So if we were to take things a step further now, you would be uncomfortable with that, because you're not ready?"

"No!" she blurted and then turned even redder at how desperate she'd sounded. The other girl looked surprised by her vehement response.

Fix it! Fix it!

"Wait. What do you mean 'a step further'? What exactly are we talking about here?"

Rachel bit her bottom lip with a lascivious grin, letting Quinn know exactly what she meant. The blonde sucked in a breath. Suddenly feeling like the room was much, much too warm.

"I just want us to be comfortable without the pressure," she explained tentatively. "I don't want you to feel pressured… Okay?"

Rachel's eyes widened and Quinn groaned inwardly, knowing she had figured it out.

It was true what she said about going places that even she wasn't ready for in the beginning. She still felt like she didn't know what she was doing, but the night that Rachel had shoved her away always floated somewhere in the back of her mind whenever they were kissing. It was a constant reminder that enabled her to keep her hands where they should be and not where she was dying to let them go. It was why she never let any clothes be shed. It was why, though they got very heated, she didn't let herself go completely because she knew she had to stay in control of her own desires. It had proven itself to be one of the most difficult things she'd ever done.

Staying behind the firmly drawn line with her old boyfriends was easy. She didn't want more. Now things were oh so very different.

She had never experienced such sexual frustration before in her life. She thought she might lose her mind, but every time the chance came for them to just take a step beyond the usual boundaries - that night was in her head again, the hands pushing her away, the way she trembled with her naked back to her.

Quinn would never forget it.

"Is that what this is about?" Rachel murmured, her shoulders drooping in relief. She'd finally gotten to the root of that tenuous question she'd been battling herself with for weeks now. "That night?" She shook her head. "Baby, you can't keep beating yourself up over that."

"Like I said…" Quinn muttered uncomfortably, staring at the floor, but after a pause, she looked up at the brunette in wonder. "Did you just call me 'baby'?"

She winced. "No?"

Quinn unconsciously wet her lips, marveling at the shiver that went through her to hear Rachel call her that. She'd hated it whenever the guys tried that with her and promptly kicked them of the habit. But when Rachel said it…it was just butterflies in her chest.

She smiled faintly, giving her a wordless answer. "Do I get to say it too?"

Happiness washed over the other girl in a brilliant glow, unwilling and unable to hide a single iota of it.

"If you want to…"

She got up off the bed and promptly straddled her in the desk chair. Quinn looked up at her warily, but Rachel just curled her arms around her neck and wriggled around until Quinn was forced to put her hands on her waist to stop the provocative movement and she smirked triumphantly, having gotten what she wanted.

"While I appreciate your careful consideration of my feelings and not wanting to pressure me, I think in the future we should allow ourselves to be more open about this particular subject. If you had simply spoken with me about your concerns, you would have found out something not altogether surprising."

"What's that?" she asked hoarsely.

Rachel was wearing a skirt that had ridden up almost entirely when she sat down and now a very sensitive area was pressed up against her with only the flimsy material of her panties standing between Quinn and the chance to…

"You would have found out that I'd like just a little less thinking and a lot more doing."

Rachel's mouth descended on hers before she even had a chance to respond.

It's safe to say the physical side of their relationship was progressively back on track after that.

Another few days passed without incident. Other than that encounter with Santana, the Latina seemed hardly interested in them at all. Quinn knew better than to let that lull them into a false sense of security. If Santana couldn't get instant gratification, it only made her more determined to get what she wanted. She may have a temper, but when it came to this sort of thing, she was an expert hunter, knowing just how long to wait, how to crouch down unseen, wait for the perfect moment to strike for the kill. If Quinn hadn't been so focused on Santana and keeping her fellow cheerleader off the scent, maybe she would have been able to prevent what happened next.

"No, no, no, you stay away from that phone, Quinn Fabray!"

Quinn was on her stomach reaching for her purse from the bed.

"I was just going to check- OOF!"

Rachel ambled on top of her, reaching over her, and snatched the cell phone away. Quinn tried to fight back, but the brunette had her pinned, holding her down with one hand and the phone in the other.

"Get off me!"

"No phones!"

Rachel leaped off her and ran for the window, she threw it open and held the phone out over the ledge. Quinn gasped in horror.

"What are you doing?" she shrieked.

"We agreed! No texting or talking to other people when we're alone together. Our time is limited so we make the most of it."

"If you drop that, I swear to God, Berry…" she growled.

"Are you going to keep your promise?"

"You're holding my cell phone hostage!"

"WELL?"

"Fine! I won't look. Jeez. I was only going to check my messages. Give it back!"

"Rachel?" a man called from downstairs.

Quinn's eyes went wide in a panic.

"In my room, Dad!"

"I thought you said they wouldn't be home before nine!" Quinn squeaked.

"They weren't," Rachel replied, "But it's okay, Quinn. It's not like you're not allowed to be… what are you doing?"

The blonde had stuck her head out the window.

"I'm looking to see if there's a way I can climb down. Maybe that ledge there…I could drop down…"

Rachel grabbed her by the waist and yanked her away from the window. "Don't you dare! Are you crazy? You could kill yourself. What do you think is going to happen if they know you're here? Open season?"

There were footsteps on the stairs. Quinn didn't say a word and bolted for the bathroom, disappearing just in time before Leroy opened the door.

"Hey, sweetie, we're home early. Brought some dinner for you. Better come down before it gets cold."

"Thanks, Dad." She smiled. "I'll be down in a few minutes."

He closed the door again and Rachel looked towards the bathroom disapprovingly. She went in to let her crazed girlfriend know that the coast was clear, but she was still going to have to face her fathers when she went downstairs. But Quinn wasn't there. Baffled at first, Rachel checked behind the door - still no one. The room was empty. Then she saw that the shower curtain was drawn.

Oh, she couldn't be serious…

Rachel pushed the curtain back and there was Quinn, standing sheepishly in the stall.

"He's gone?"

She folded her arms across her chest. "Baby, I think we're going to have to have a real conversation about this."

"What?" she tried nonchalantly.

"You are in the shower, fully clothed, hiding from my father."

"So? What if he checked the bathroom? He could have seen me."

"This is getting out of hand!"

Quinn shook her head and reached out to grab the front of Rachel's shirt, pulling lightly.

"What?"

"Come in here," she said mischievously, pulling harder.

"In the shower? What? Why?"

Quinn didn't answer and just wrapped her arms around her, dragging her in, despite Rachel's protests.

"This is silly!"

"Shhh," she said and backed them both up till Quinn was pressed up against the cool tile. Her hands slipped downwards to firmly grasp Rachel's ass and she pulled her in close to stand between her legs, finding her lips eagerly. Rachel responded instinctively, cupping her cheeks in both hands, and let herself lean into the blonde heavily. She felt so good… Their breasts flattened against each other; she could feel the heat coursing between them, hardened nipples straining rigidly through her bra.

Rachel delved into the waiting mouth with her tongue, stroking just so. Her skin flushed at Quinn's touch, she was already panting. Quinn moaned when she ran her hands down to her waist to push her harder against the tile, brushing past the sides of her breasts for all too brief contact. Rachel gasped when the blonde thrust her hips against her and covered her neck with scorching, open mouthed kisses. She moved against her almost desperately to seek that coveted relief that she seemed to be cursed to never find. Quinn's sweet, talented tongue dragging across her bare skin made Rachel throb with the thought of what it could do elsewhere. Quinn smirked and yanked the curtain closed behind them.

"I thought this was supposed to happen when we were naked…with water," Rachel gasped.

"Next time," she said, squeezing her tighter and kissing her harder. "It is the proper way after all."

"I wonder if we can consider that an improvement," Rachel mused as she fixed her hair in front of the mirror, undoing Quinn's handiwork.

The blonde spun around with a glare.

"Improvement? Are you insinuating something?"

"We've gone from you hiding in the closet to hiding in the shower," she explained nonchalantly, still fussing with her hair. "Would that be considered a lateral move or perhaps a small step up?"

Quinn snorted. "Oh, funny."

Rachel smirked at herself in the mirror. "I thought so."

Her phone was on the vanity and as soon as it was in her hand, Quinn's indignant cries filled the room.

"You're leaving," she reasoned. "The rules don't apply now."

"You threatened to throw mine out the window!" Quinn shot back furiously.

"You weren't leaving then."

She growled. "Well, I'm glad I'm leaving now!"

"No, you're not," Rachel said mildly.

"Oh, yes I am!" she insisted.

"What are you going to do? Try to sneak past them? Just go and say hello, Quinn. That's all. It won't be the end of the world."

"And you can swear to that?"

"On Barbra herself."

She rolled her eyes. "You better be coming with me. I'm not going down there alone."

"Just one second, I wanted to see…" she trailed off.

Quinn was busy getting her things together so it took her a few moments to notice how quiet Rachel had gone.

"Something wrong?" She turned around to see the girl a sickly shade of pale as she sat on the bed staring at her phone. "Rach? Rachel? What is it? What's wrong?"

She didn't answer, only looked up at Quinn with pure horror.

"What is it?" she almost yelled, panicking now, and took the phone away from her to see what had gotten Rachel so spooked. She saw the headline in big bold letters.

BREAKING NEWS AT MCKINLEY HIGH: HBIC QUINN FABRAY CHEERS FOR THE OTHER TEAM – SPOTTED TANGLING TONGUES WITH FELLOW GLEE CLUBBER RACHEL BERRY.

She didn't have to read the rest of the blog post. That was enough. The phone slipped out of her hands.

"Quinn…" Rachel whispered, "Quinn, it's going to be alright. Jacob makes up rumors all the time… no one will think anything of it."

She sounded so far away.

How could he have found out? They were so careful!

No. That was a lie.

They were reckless, increasingly so. Dozens and dozens of stolen moments whirled through her head. Which time had he caught them? Which one had been the fatal shot? She was so stupid! She knew better than that and yet she had allowed herself to be lulled into a false sense of security, because of Rachel…always because of Rachel…for Rachel.

Oh, God! What was she going to do? It would be rampant through the school tomorrow, the words on everyone's tongue. For as loathed as Jacob Ben Israel was, everyone still read his blog. Quinn Fabray…a lesbian. It was over. She was finished. Her parents…they would know before the day was out. Her mother for certain, her father not long after. Rumors of this nature in Lima spread much further than the deceptively solid walls of McKinley High. The entire town would be whispering her name again; the shamed daughter of Russell and Judy Fabray had not only gotten herself knocked up at sixteen, but she was gay. What she would face now…

Was she breathing? She was certain she wasn't breathing. Her body felt cold, trembling, as if she were ill. She certainly felt ill. Her world was crashing down around her and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Again. This was happening again. How could she let it come to this? She had sworn she would never let herself be here again. How could she be so stupid? WHY?

A warm touch startled her. There was the distinct pressure of someone trying to hold her. Quinn looked down to realize that Rachel was tentatively trying to take her into her arms. Dread. Disgust. Fear. Loathing. Hatred. All of it made her stomach lurch.

"Don't touch me!" she cried, shoving her back.

"Quinn…" her voice trembled fearfully, pleadingly.

"Just don't freaking touch me."

How to get out of here? How to leave this oppressive place? How to get as far away as possible from the teary eyed girl standing before her? She didn't want to look at her. She didn't want to see her face. She wanted to be a hundred thousand miles away from her and even then it would not feel enough. Away. Just get away.

Her feet moved before her mind could catch up and Quinn was already to the front door, ignoring the calls of the men behind her.

She was driving much too fast without seeing hardly anything. Her hands were cold and clammy against the steering wheel. Then she couldn't see anything at all. In one heart lurching moment, she swerved off the road. The bright beams of her headlights carried off into some endless blackness where she had stopped. Next to some fucking cornfield. In fucking Lima. In fucking Ohio. Quinn turned off the ignition, leaving her without a light, ripped off her seatbelt, grabbed her phone, and flung the door open to get out.

There was no one on the road right now. It was past 10 o'clock. Lima was dead by 8. She was alone in the pitch dark, no moonlight to speak of, stranded by an empty cornfield.

It took some time for her fumbling fingers to get to his number. Then it was ringing. Once. Twice. By the third ring she was screaming for him to answer it as if that would help somehow.

"Hey," came that familiar voice.

"WHY DON'T YOU FUCKING PICK UP YOUR PHONE?"

"Whoa! Whoa! Hold up. Wha-"

"ARE YOU ALONE?"

"Uh, yes?"

She clenched her teeth, hissing now, "Sam, I'm not dicking around, so help me God. Are. You. Alone?"

"Yes! I swear! What's going on? You sound-"

"Did you tell anyone about us breaking up?"

"Um, no..." he replied apprehensively. "Not really anyone's business. Besides, I'm still kind of having trouble believing it myself so…"

Quinn tried to remember to breathe. Her lungs felt as though they would burst.

"Remember when you said to ask if there was anything I needed?"

"What happened, Quinn?" His tone grew serious, in that gentle, but constant way he always had about him.

She furiously fought back the tears clouding her vision. "T-that perverted Jewfro outed Rachel and me on his blog. It'll be all over school tomorrow."

She heard him mutter a few choice curses that didn't even compare to the ones that were running through her own mind right now.

Then it had to be said. No cushioning it.

"You have to be my boyfriend again."

"WHAT?" he yelped so loudly into the phone, she winced when it pierced her eardrum.

Quinn hurried to explain, terse and unyielding with every word. "If we walk in, hand in hand, affectionate as ever, everyone will see and think he's just making up perverse fantasies again."

"Oh, Quinn, I don't-"

"I need you to do this for me," her voice cracked roughly. "Please. If it gets back to my parents…Sam, you know. I don't have a right to ask you, but I'm doing it anyway. I need you. I-I don't have anyone else."

There were a few moments of silence on the other end. She could only hear his rapid breathing in time with the pounding of her heart. What was this? How did she get here? Standing on the side of the road in the dark, nothing before her, nothing behind her, pathetically begging a boy to save her. Who was she?

"Okay…" he said after what felt like too long and she stifled a sob of relief. It was exactly what she had needed to hear. "Okay, Quinn. You've got me," he said soothingly. "We'll fix this, alright? It's gonna be okay."

"Thank you," she whispered hoarsely. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. Her throat was in a painful knot. Everything hurt. "I feel like that's all I ever do with you. Apologize and thank you."

"Ah, it just means you have manners," he said lightly. "Before this, I didn't even know you knew the word 'please'."

"Shut up, Sam."

They agreed that he would pick her up the next morning and they would go in together. Sam tried to get her to talk a little more, but she couldn't stand to. After Quinn hung up, she threw her phone away as hard as she could into the blackness of the field and burst into tears at long last.

Chapter Text

It was a gray, rainy morning when Sam picked her up in his truck. He handed her a hot cup of coffee, just the way she liked it. It was only a light drizzle, but he turned on the windshield wipers anyway. Quinn watched them go back and forth. They didn't say a word to each other. Sam wanted to, but she must have looked like she didn't, because every time he seemed to work up the nerve, she would look at him and he would turn back to the road.

Quinn was tired. Just achingly tired.

She hadn't slept at all that night, but there were no sunglasses this morning. If this was going to work, she couldn't hide, she had to be at the forefront, for everyone to see. For everyone to believe her lie.

They pulled up at school much sooner than she expected. She almost asked him to turn back, take her somewhere else, anywhere else, away from here, a different town even, if only for a little while. But she didn't ask.

Sam turned off the ignition and sat back in his seat.

"How is this going to work?" he asked quietly.

"You hold my hand," she replied, her voice sounding dull and foreign in her ears, "you kiss me at my locker, you walk me to my first class, we sit together at lunch, Glee, and wherever else possible, then you take me home after practice."

"So like we used to be."

"Yes."

"Only it's not real this time."

She didn't answer.

"Was it ever real, Quinn?"

A sob worked its way into her throat, but she held it there, as painful as it was.

"Yeah," she whispered. The rain started coming down harder, they couldn't see out of the windshield. "With you it was."

Quinn clutched his larger hand in a near death grip as they navigated the halls. Sam didn't complain, just kept holding on. People were staring, some were laughing, others were whispering furiously to each other. She raised her head and defied them all.

It was killing her.

They had just reached her locker when Sam suddenly turned her around and pushed her up against the metal row. He put one hand over her shoulder to support his weight against the lockers and ducked his head towards her throat, his breath ghosting over her skin, but never making contact.

She wanted to push him away, but forced herself to be still.

"You have to relax," he murmured against her ear. "If you don't, they'll know something's wrong. This won't work if you keep looking like this."

It was then she realized that he had put them in this position precisely to shield her from everyone's view. No one could see her face, just them in a seemingly intimate embrace. Knowing that for that moment she was safe, Quinn took a deep breath and buried herself against his chest. Silent tears soaked his sweatshirt that was already a little damp from the rain.

"Hey…" he whispered sadly and curled one arm around her waist to pull her closer for an almost hug.

"I didn't tell her," she said through quiet sobs.

"Huh?"

"Rachel, I didn't tell Rachel about this."

"Jesus Christ, Quinn!" he exclaimed harshly. "What the hell?"

"I couldn't!" she cried, shaking her head. "I couldn't. She won't… I'll lose her. I can't lose her. I couldn't tell her. What am I going to do?"

He clutched her tighter, brushing his lips over her cheek and then back to her neck again, "You're going to find her and fix it. Today. I don't care how. You can't do this to her, Quinn. It's messed up."

"She won't understand."

"Then explain."

"No. I don't want her to know."

"She has to know sometime. You can't keep this from her forever."

"I can keep it long enough."

"Quinn…" he said firmly, "I know how much you care about her, so don't let this happen."

She wrapped her arms around him, holding on with all she had.

"I'll lose her anyway," she whispered brokenly. "Not telling people was one thing…this…she can't love me enough for this."

"You're wrong," he said so fiercely, it made her shiver. "I love you enough to do this. She loves you even more."

"How do you know?"

"Because I've never wanted to hit a girl before."

"Sam…" she said reprovingly.

"It's true. I see her look at you and I know…how much she loves you, and that she gets to have you, so yeah, Quinn, sometimes I feel like punching her in the face."

Despite herself, she chuckled. It was her first tiny relief in nearly 24 hours. It was so incredibly unlike him to say anything like that. She knew Sam never would do such a thing, but to hear that he was so jealous of a tiny five foot two diva like she was another hulking football dude did strike her as ludicrous.

"She's also kind of loud."

"Stop it," Quinn laughed softly and gave him a slight push.

"No more tears?"

"You tell me. How bad do I look?"

He glanced down, still shielding her protectively from the hungry eyes of the student body, and nodded.

"I think you're good. Now get your stuff. I kiss you and then take you to class, right?"

"Right," she whispered, and after a moment's hesitation, touched his cheek gingerly. "You still love me, Sam? Even after what I did? What I'm doing to you now?"

He tilted his head and looked away before meeting her eyes again with a sad smile.

"I think I'm always going to love you."

So she collected her things, he kissed her in full view of everyone, causing the halls to chatter even more loudly, then hand in hand they walked to her first class of the day.

Rachel overslept. For the first time in her entire academic career, she overslept and was late for school, missing almost half of her first period class. It was unheard of. Her fathers thought she was deathly ill. No. She'd just been up most of the night and cried herself to sleep. That was all. They didn't even want her to go in today, but she had to go in today, and fought them tooth and nail to get out the door.

When she'd accidentally let Quinn's name slip, they reared back in horror. The blonde had run right past them last night without a word and Rachel knew they had heard her crying. Rather than get into another argument, she used their moment's hesitation to slip out the door and take off in her Dad's car.

She needed so badly to see Quinn. Last night would forever be burned into her memory. How pale and terrified the blonde looked. And sad. So…so…sad. It brought tears to her eyes to even think of it. When Quinn pushed her away…she swore it was as though she could hear the sound of her own heart breaking. But they could figure this out! Rumors were rumors and they kicked up a big dust storm in the beginning, but always settled down pretty quickly. They just had to continue on as usual, not pay any attention to it, and the dust would settle.

She really needed to see Quinn, but they didn't share a class until fourth period. She tried texting her several times, but received no reply. Was she ignoring her now? The wait was excruciating. Rachel had to know how the blonde would react. Would she treat her the way she did last night? Would it be the old Quinn Fabray snarling in her face and calling her names? Or would it be her Quinn?

After the first class ended, Rachel scoured the halls for some possible sign of her as she went to the next class. There was little chance she would run into her blonde, Quinn's class was on the opposite side of the building. Still she looked. And as she did she caught another blonde, not hers, grabbing Jacob in the blink of an eye and shoving him into the AV room. Forgetting about being late, she stealthily ran over to the door that was left cracked open and listened in.

"Here's the deal," Sam said roughly, "you're going to put a retraction on your blog about Quinn, and I'm not going to hang you by your shorts on the flagpole tomorrow."

"How so very 80's of you, but 'fraid I can't do that, Sam Evans. I've got it on a good authority that the illustrious Fabray is in fact Fabgay."

"Are you an idiot? Are you actually saying to my face that my girlfriend is gay and expect me not to punch your lights out?"

There was some scuffling and a squeak from Jacob.

"I thought you guys were over!"

"And on whose authority do you have that from? Better check your sources again. Quinn's my girl, you're messing with her, what do you think I'm going to do to you?"

"If you'd be so kind as to release my shirt now… Ow! Hey! Okay. Look, I didn't know you two were still hot and heavy, but let's get real here, you're not the kind of guy who's gonna beat up a poor defenseless loser like me so drop the charade."

"You're right…I'm not gonna kick the crap out of you, though you deserve it, but what I will do is tell Santana that you're the one who keeps stealing her underwear out of the Cheerios locker room."

"YOU WOULDN'T!"

"Try me, Jewfro."

"The retraction will be posted tonight."

"Good choice."

Rachel hurried off to class, thoroughly confused, and even more distressed than before.

The sniveling weasel had the gall to assault her as she came out of her third period class, shoving a microphone in her face as she tried to walk away.

"Miss Fabray! There have been several conflicting reports regarding the current status of your sexuality as now Sam Evans claims to be your one and only, yet sources claim you've been doing the naughty with the school diva, Rachel Berry. Care to weigh in on the fierce debate taking place at William McKinley? With explicit details perhaps?" he leered. "People have already started placing bets."

Quinn's blood boiled over and she physically recoiled from the boy, but all that she allowed to show was a dispassionate eye roll and said as politely as possibly, "I love my boyfriend very much, we're very happy together. You're an idiot. Get out of my way."

She had to remain calm and in control, if she reacted too much to the rumor, it would only lend it more truth.

Elbowing her way past him, she had just started to put some distance between them when he called out, "If you give me details about your dressing room escapades, possibly some unwashed clothing, and a security tape, I'll give you my entire bank account! I'm Jewish, I have money!"

She spun around, thoroughly revolted, with half a mind to… And then it occurred to her.

Dressing room? What dressing room? They'd never gone shopping together before. They were planning a visit to the mall next weekend, but hadn't been there yet. The realization smacked her across the face.

Jacob made the whole thing up.

He never saw them together.

It actually was just another one of his perverted fantasies.

Laughing from the sheer incredulousness of it all, she spun away and saw Sam coming towards her, his gaze darkly fixated on the other boy. Feeling like a hundred pounds had been lifted off her shoulders, Quinn ran and jumped into his arms happily, wrapping her legs round his waist and gave him a resounding, smacking kiss on the mouth.

"You look happy…" he said suspiciously, looking up at her. "Why do you look happy?"

She giggled and dropped down to her feet again. "That moron doesn't know a thing!" she whispered. "He just made it all up! He doesn't know it's real. This I can handle!"

His eyes widened slightly at the revelation and leaned in close to her, just so that no one would overhear. "So we don't have to pretend anymore?"

"Oh, no, we do," she said distractedly. "For a while anyway. But this is nothing!" Quinn grinned up at him, taking fistfuls of his shirt and tugged excitedly. "I have to find Rachel and tell her everything."

"I think you're going to have to do it soon…" he said and she followed his line of sight to the small brunette standing towards the end of the hall.

Her heart plummeted the moment their eyes met. Any trace of relief and happiness vanished in that moment as Rachel's large brown eyes bore into her. She just stood there, blankly, and Quinn wanted nothing more than to run into her arms and kiss away the hurt, to reassure her that it wasn't what she thought, she didn't want this, she didn't want anyone else, but she only took one step forward before remembering all the eyes on her. When she didn't move, Rachel turned away.

At that moment, Quinn cursed her life for being the way it was. Cursed God. Cursed herself. Cursed the school. Cursed her parents. Cursed everything. Everything except Rachel.

"Go after her!" he hissed in her ear.

"I can't," she said angrily. It was all she could do to keep herself there and he was going to push her? "It'll look suspicious."

"Quinn!"

"Just hold my hand," she said through gritted teeth and ignored the roaming eyes of the student body.

He squeezed so tightly, it bordered on painful. She didn't know if it was a reprimand or a reassurance. It was probably both.

It was quiet for a long time. The hustle and bustle of the student body echoed somewhere seemingly miles away. She wasn't crying. She couldn't find it in her to cry right now. It was numbness. This had always been coming. She'd prepared herself for something like this. But it hadn't helped. It still hit her with all the force it could possibly muster, such a crippling blow. Would she ever be right again after Quinn Fabray?

Someone settled in beside her on the bench without a word and Rachel wanted to scream in frustration. She didn't want her here. She wanted her gone. She wanted to be left alone. She wanted a world without this girl for at least a little while. Give her some reprieve? Why couldn't she have had just the slightest bit?

"How?" she groaned. "How on earth did you find me here?"

"Well, I knew you'd be hiding from me so I thought about the last place Rachel Berry would go."

"And you guessed the boys weight room?"

"Actually, I checked Coach Sylvester's office, the boiler room, and the AV Club first. This was fourth on the list."

"You found me then."

"Yes, I did. Ugh, did you have to choose here? Even the boiler room smelled better."

Why was she here? Was she truly so selfish that she couldn't even realize that her presence was the last thing in the world Rachel wanted?

Was she doomed to always feel this way? Offer her heart only to have it pulverized by a vicious heel as though that were all she ever deserved. Quinn was always going to do this to her, yet she went forward anyway. Naively. Stupidly. Adoringly.

How she hated herself for it.

"Quinn, it's not like I've asked a lot of you, God knows I haven't," there was no emotion in her voice, just a harrowing vacancy that Rachel Berry was not known for, "but I would have appreciated it if you could have at least given me a courtesy phone call to inform me of your decision before I had to see that. Do I really mean so little to you?"

"You mean too much."

"That makes no sense."

"It makes perfect sense. You're just not listening."

"Why should I listen to anything you have to say? Leave me alone."

"I was too afraid…to tell you," Quinn said lowly. "I could have called you last night, but I didn't. I didn't want it to end. I couldn't…" She shook her head mournfully. "You're going to break up with me."

"Because you've gone back to Sam?"

"No. I haven't gone back to him!" she said fiercely. "We're not together."

Rachel wanted to slap her.

"So I just made it all up in my head, is that it?" she shot back bitingly. "I imagined you all over him? Kissing him?"

"It didn't mean anything! I don't feel that way about him. Sam's my friend Rachel, a very…very good friend. Look, he agreed to be my beard, alright? That's all it is. He's going to pretend to be my boyfriend for as long as I need him to."

"And just why would he agree to that?" she scoffed bitterly. "Lofty altruism? He just wants you back."

"True, he does, but he also knows it's not going to happen."

"You don't need him, Quinn!" she insisted. "It was just a stupid rumor! Why are you so afraid of everyone knowing who you are? Is it because you don't want to be a loser? You don't want to be treated differently? Is it that?"

"Yes," she said distantly. "There's that."

"There's more?"

"I can't be kicked out again, Rachel. I just can't."

"What are you talking about?"

"If my Mom ever finds out about… I'll be disowned." There was a very matter of fact tone to her voice, as though she were discussing business or schoolwork. "She'll be the one to kick me out this time. My Dad won't have to say a thing. She may have stood by last time, but this one…it'll be all her."

"Quinn, I don-"

She cut Rachel off, quickly explaining the rest. Quinn's grandparents left both her and her sister sizable college funds, which her father added to over the years. With a few student loans it would be enough to let her go wherever she wanted, even without a cheerleading scholarship. Russell tried to take it in the divorce, but Judy fought him and won, keeping the money safe from her father's greedy hands which he would have likely used to waste on his new, twenty-something, girlfriend. It was one thing her mother had managed to do right by her.

"If she finds out, I won't just be kicked out, she'll take the money too. My way out even if I don't get a cheerleading scholarship. My entire future depends on my parents support right now and if I lose that…I'll be forever a Lima loser." Her voice cracked and she looked away, stubbornly holding off the tears. "I can't let that happen," she stressed. "I got too close last time, I won't ever have it happen again. Do you understand? I moved back in with her because I had no other choice, but I haven't forgiven her and I don't know if I ever will."

"She's your mother, Quinn," Rachel ventured gently. "She's trying now."

"Yeah, when she thinks I just made a dumb mistake and got pregnant. Finding out her daughter is gay? She'll never accept that. I'd be dead to her."

"You don't know that."

"No, you don't know that. She's my mother, Rachel. You've no idea…" she trailed off and then started anew. "For my Mom: Getting pregnant? Embarrassing, but livable. Being a lesbian? Not a snowball's chance in hell."

"But how are you ever going to know what she'll do if you don't give her the chance?"

"I'll tell her someday." She nodded, as though convincing herself of it too. "When I'm older and on my own, supporting myself. She can hurt me right now, Rach." Quinn looked at her despairingly, tears clouding those beautiful hazel eyes. It tore her heart to see it. "I'm only 17. When I'm thrown out, what chance do I have of getting out of here? I need her support and she's going to help me whether she likes it or not because she's my mother and that's what she's supposed to do!"

"Okay. Okay. Shhh." Rachel slid over and wrapped her arms around her shoulders.

"Someday they'll find out their daughter is gay and won't that be fun to see? But not now. I learned my lesson well last year. My parents love for me is entirely conditional."

"Oh, Quinn, don't say that."

"It's true. You may be adopted, Rachel, but your fathers would do anything in the world for you. My Mom and Dad will never be like that and I'm their biological child. Just goes to show…"

"They're always going to be your parents, no matter what."

"Yeah. That's the worst part."

"Quinn…"

"Can you do this with me?" She turned to her abruptly. "Can you please do this?"

"Be with you while the rest of the world sees you with Sam?" Rachel shook her head angrily, moving away, letting the space fall between once more. "D-do you have any idea how much it hurt to see that just now? How bad you made me feel? Like I wanted to die. Like I never want to feel anything again. I can't do that. I can't stand by and watch you be with him-"

"But I'm not with him!" she cried stubbornly. "We wouldn't do anything considered more than just friends being slightly more affectionate than the norm."

"You're asking me to watch you with someone else and lie even more than we already were. You're asking me to-"

"I know what I'm asking."

"And still you ask?" she said heatedly. "What if it were you? If the situation were reversed, would you be able to do it? Would you be willing to watch me with another boy, girl, whatever, cuddling, kissing, holding hands? Would you be able to stand it?"

"No," she admitted despondently. "I would be too selfish. But then again, we always knew you were the better person between us."

"That is not fair!"

"It isn't," she said, tears falling now. "That's why I know you're going to say no."

"Is that what you want me to do? You want me to end it so you don't have to take any of the responsibility? You get to run away, but it'll really be my fault."

"NO! I want you, Rachel! More than anything, I want to be with you."

"Then be with me!"

"This is the only way that I can!" she cried. "Until we're away from here."

Rachel watched her for a long time, a stunned look on her face.

Did she mean it? Is that what she meant? Did she really…

"A-are you saying you want us to leave Lima together?" she said in barely a whisper.

Quinn nodded heavily. "You're going places, Rachel Berry. You're meant for so much more than this town. You deserve to have your name in lights and I know you're gonna make it happen. Wherever you go, I'll follow. I-if you want me, that is."

"I do want you," she murmured, "so much."

"Can you do this?"

"Is this your ultimatum?" she asked. "Either accept Sam as your pseudo boyfriend or we're finished?"

"I don't have a choice."

"Yes, you do. We always do. I don't care what you say - this is of your choosing."

"Please don't leave me. Please."

Quinn couldn't believe it. Were these words really coming out of her mouth? Was she begging now? Quinn Fabray did not beg. She demanded. But here she was, fighting to urge to fall to her knees and cling to the diva, praying that she could understand enough, to want her enough, to love her enough.

Rachel was quiet for so long, she thought her heart would give out.

When had she gotten so weak? This was why people were always held at arm's length. Not just her secret…but this. Needing someone. Wholeheartedly. Desperately. Without a smattering of pride to be had. She didn't want to need, she didn't want to love, but she did, and she did so hopelessly. It wasn't right. It shouldn't be this frightening. It shouldn't feel so good and so bad. Was it always this way?

"I can't…" Rachel whispered hoarsely and Quinn felt as though a hot knife had been plunged into her heart.

Why was she surprised? She'd told Sam, didn't she? She knew she'd asked too much. She knew this was coming. And yet.

"…be without you," Rachel continued haltingly, but she could hardly hear, "s-so if this is what I have to do to keep you...provided it's temporary?"

Was she…was she…

Quinn could only nod dumbly.

Rachel looked up at her with bleary, red strained eyes that she would have given anything to make brighter again as they should be.

"I love you, Quinn," she said. "I'll do whatever it takes."

She tried to smile through the tears, but the relief, the happiness, the fear, it was all so much she just burst out sobbing and put her head in her hands.

She hadn't lost her. She loved her. Rachel really loved her.

The brunette rubbed her back soothingly as she cried and released her tightly pulled ponytail to give her some relief. She tangled her fingers in the newly freed locks and scraped her nails across Quinn's scalp as she ran her hand through again and again in such a tender way that soon had her calming down.

"And you're wrong," she whispered into her ear and pressed her nose to her cheek. "We are going places. Not just me, both of us. There's a whole different life out there for us, Quinn. A better one. A bigger one. You're going to find your dream too and we'll live them together."

Quinn didn't say it, but she was pretty sure she already found hers.

Sam and Quinn were sitting side by side in Glee when she walked in and though Rachel had expected it, the blow was staggering. She wanted to curl into a ball and weep at the sight. They weren't even touching each other or anything, just sitting there patiently, and it was almost too much to take. Why had she agreed to this? How had she let herself be roped in to this farce that grew with every waking day?

Because she loved her.

Because she'd do anything for her.

And Quinn knew that.

She should have had more pride, more sense. All she had to do was end it, say that the terms were too much. Say that Quinn wasn't worth this damage to herself.

But she was! She so…so was.

The fear in her eyes… The way she had wept when Rachel agreed… What was happening? What was she missing? Quinn had explained that it was to protect her future, much more so than reputation alone. That was something Rachel could reason with, that was enough to give her a sincere rationalization for her decision to agree. Now here she was. Belonging to Quinn in secret while the rest of the world watched what was hers parade around on a blonde boy's arm.

Was she a fool? Was she doing what she'd always done in her old relationships? Sacrifice the person she was for her significant other? Was history repeating itself?

Then she shook the thoughts away. It was different this time. There was no selfishness in this. No immaturity or pride. This was simple and concrete need.

Oh, how heartbroken she'd looked sitting there. How beaten. When did Quinn Fabray ever look beaten? She was a fighter to the end. She did what she had to do, no matter the cost. Yet…today she'd looked as though she lost and it would be the end of her. Rachel never wanted to see her look so defeated again. That was not her Quinn. She refused to allow her to be that way.

So, yes, she would do this. Even if it killed her

Quinn needed her and she would be there. There was still something she wasn't telling her, perhaps more than one something, but whenever Rachel pushed, she met a stone wall, so she'd learned fast that Quinn Fabray could not be moved into something before she was ready.

Please, tell me I'm doing the right thing, tell me I'm not…

The blonde saw her come in and instinctively sat up straighter, Sam only watched her blankly. Rachel quickly moved to go to the opposite end of the risers, as far away from the lovebirds as she could get. Her stomach churned at the thought. But before she even took two steps, Quinn was waving her over, pointing to the empty seat beside her.

Was she serious?

Rachel hesitated and Quinn's brow drew grim with determination. Almost glaring now, she folded her arms across her chest and practically screamed with her eyes for Rachel to take that damn seat next to her.

She wanted to refuse just to refuse. Show in some way she still had control over herself. Quinn hadn't taken everything yet.

When it looked as though she wasn't going to do it, the fierce, glaring hazel eyes softened and Quinn's shoulders fell with disappointment. Rachel felt a twinge of her heart.

Damn her.

The diva made her way up the risers to the back where the couple was and seated herself beside the two blondes with a huff.

She may have agreed to this fool's show, but she wasn't going to make it easy on Quinn in any sense of the word. The girl would know just how much Rachel disapproved of this plan as often as she could remind her.

"Thank you," was all Quinn said, unable to look her in the eye.

Rachel said nothing.

"Yo, Quinn!" Puck laughed boisterously as he sat down a few chairs away. "Finally decided to try out the other hot Jew? Wonder what took you so long?"

"Don't tell me you actually believe that absurd piece of gossip?" she replied loftily with a hint of snide deprecation in her tone.

"Why not? I totally got off on picturing-"

"Don't even go there!" Mercedes held up her hand with revulsion written all over her face.

"That's disgusting," Tina said reprovingly.

Mike was next to her, eyes wide as he now had the visual himself.

"While I understand the euphoria of shopping, girls, was it really necessary to be caught in the dressing rooms?" Kurt interjected. "Are there not more appropriate places for your passionate displays of lady affection?"

"Did the security guards really have to escort you out?" Mercedes asked.

"For goodness sake!" Rachel cried. "There isn't even a Nordstrom's in the mall! And somehow we were caught there? How can you possibly believe a word of what Jacob posted?"

"It really is crap, come on guys," Finn said with a roll of his eyes. "They're obviously not gay."

"You're just saying that cause they both dated you," Artie pointed out.

"It's a good reason!"

"So what if they want sweet lady kisses?" Brittany shrugged. "Everyone deserves to be kissed like that. And maybe Jacob meant H&M cause San I got caught there once-"

"Britts!" Santana cried from the front row.

"Caught doing what?" Tina asked suspiciously.

"Stealing!" the Latina said abruptly before Brittany could answer. "I was trying to shove a bunch of shirts in my bag and we got caught. No bigs. My cuz was the mall cop so he let us off."

"I got to hold his light stick," Brittany nodded.

Everyone stared at her.

"She means his flashlight, you pervs," Santana said exasperatedly. " Now I, for one, believe the rumor is entirely true. Why else would Q be hanging around the dwarf in the first place? Suddenly acting all besties? Ways I see it, it explains everything. Why Finn never got past that pathetic definition of second and Puckerman only got it in her once."

"Must you be so crude?" Kurt grimaced along with Mercedes and Tina.

"Just keeping it real. Those two are bumping fuzzies."

"OH, YOU B-" Quinn started to yell, but Sam's laughter took the wind out of her sails.

She looked at him warily. Everyone else was confused by his seemingly nonchalant behavior as well. Rachel was watching his every move.

Sam just slung his arm across the back of Quinn's chair and stretched his legs out leisurely. Like everything they were saying didn't bother him in the slightest.

"You guys really have no idea what you're talking about," he said, still chuckling.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Santana frowned up at him from her seat.

"Just what I said," he retorted smugly.

No one knew quite what to make of it. Quinn and Rachel caught on fairly quickly to what he was insinuating though. The blonde flushed with embarrassment and Rachel ground her teeth.

"DUDE!" Puck gasped with his mouth open in shock, breaking the silence. "Tell me you're not! You didn't get under that skirt did you?"

"It's none of your business!" Quinn said sharply. "Nor is it anyone else's." She used that opportunity to glare at Sam while he only shrugged.

At that, Mr. Schuester walked in, and everyone had to leave the conversation off for another day.

Rachel was beside herself. She wanted nothing more to punch Sam square in the face.

It took all of two days for Quinn's mother to hear about the rumor, despite the retraction on Jacob's blog. It was still out. It was still in people's heads. The vigorous roundtabling in Glee was only a preview of what was happening in the rest of the school. Still, Quinn held her head high, with Sam on her arm, and Rachel beside her.

She'd been persistent in that aspect. Rachel kept trying to separate herself from them but Quinn wasn't having any of it. Not only would it make it suspicious if their behavior changed after the rumor, seeing a divide between her and Rachel would just lend it a hand, but also Quinn wanted her there as much as possible so the other girl could understand that there was nothing between her and Sam besides sincere friendship. She also just wanted Rachel.

Seeing the three together without discord did help to quell the storm some, but it was still going strong. On the second day, Quinn took Sam aside.

"Okay, since you already insinuated it, without my approval I might add, might as well take it all the way."

"Might help if you tell me just what we're talking about."

"Sex. Us having it. Go ahead, tell your buddies."

"Uh…" He looked around the semi-empty hallway as if some practical joke was being played on him and people were going to jump out with cameras at any moment.

"Just do it," she sighed exasperatedly. "It'll explain why you're not bothered by the rumor as you so well pointed out yesterday. Actually, if it hadn't been so effective in shutting everybody up, I would have kicked you for trying it."

"You sure know how to sound grateful."

"I'm grateful. So go ahead. You have my permission. I'll neither confirm nor deny anything, which should be the seal in and of itself."

"Okay. Fine. When did we first?"

"A few weeks ago."

"That won't fly, we weren't really around each other much. They'll never believe it."

"We had a fight, that's all."

"And what did we fight about?"

She thought about it for a moment. "You…told your Dad about us doing it which led to a very awkward and uncomfortable sit down with your parents to have 'the talk'. I was mad at you for it. They go to church with my family. It could have caused problems."

"Then we made up?"

"Yes, you bought me presents, groveled incessantly, and so on."

"I still don't think this is going to work."

"What?" She frowned. "Why?"

"It's too suspicious," he explained. "This gossip comes out about you and Rachel, then I'm suddenly bragging about us? The guys are gonna think it's total bull. I need proof."

"PROOF?" she all but screeched. "How on earth are am I supposed to prove it short of actually doing the deed in front of everyone? What? Wait till I show up pregnant again? Forget it! This was a stupid idea to begin with."

Sam chuckled at her fuming and slipped his thumbs into the straps of his backpack. "Uh…I was thinking more along the lines of a birthmark, a certain distinctive freckle, or something of the like that can't be seen in a bikini…? Got anything?"

"No!" she said quickly. "Of course not! And how would that help anyway?"

He shifted uncomfortably, obviously not wanting to say it, but Quinn's exasperation was reaching a breaking point. So he finally had to come out with it. "Puck would know. He'd confirm."

Quinn tried to quash down the wave of disgust that rolled through her at the mention of it. She shook her head. "I changed my mind. Don't say anything. I'm not having something…personal like that be fodder for the McKinley rumor mill!"

"I know a way to keep it low-key," he reassured her. "Besides, if Puck hasn't told anyone yet, then why would he start now?"

"Because he forgot to?" she replied dryly.

"Then I'll kick his ass if he does! Just like any boyfriend would. This can work, Quinn. Just tell me."

"Not going to happen."

He sighed. "Think about it this way…what would you rather them talk about? You and Rachel or a hidden birthmark?"

"I don't have a birthmark!" she cried in frustration, but then forced herself to calm down.

He had a point. He really did.

"Okay…fine."

She brought him down to her height and whispered in his ear. Sam's eyes widened slightly, but by the time Quinn saw him again, he was the picture of nonchalance.

"Alright," he nodded, "got it. So all the bases?"

"What?"

"It's important we're on the same page here," he said matter of factly. "Details are necessary. We can't get tripped up in this. Now, are we rounding all the bases or just skipping to home?"

Has he done this before? Cause honestly…

"Ew, God, whatever, Sam. Fine. All the bases. Just keep the crudeness to a minimum and I swear if I hear you're making me out to look like some slutbomb, I will personally see to it that you never have children. Understand?"

"Hey," he said, looking slightly hurt, "real girlfriend or not…I wouldn't do that to you, Quinn. If we were actually…" He shrugged. "I wouldn't have told anyone."

She rolled her eyes, scoffing, "That is such a load of-"

"I'm not kidding. It wouldn't have been anyone's business but ours."

Quinn was a little taken aback by his sincerity. "Well…thank you."

"No problem."

"I-I really mean that, Sam. Thank you."

"Hey, it's not like I'm not getting anything out of this. The whole school's gonna think I've gotten into the nearly untouchable Quinn Fabray's pants. I'm gonna be a GOD!"

She groaned disgustedly and shoved him. "Gross. I am not discussing this with you anymore. Go away."

That afternoon was when Judy Fabray confronted her about Jacob's blog post, having heard it from some members of her church group, and Quinn held her cool until she was out of the room before running for her phone. Sam was there two hours later to have a lovely dinner with his girlfriend and her mother.

As she looked at him across the table, dressed in a polo t-shirt and nicer slacks than usual, his hair combed neatly, Quinn couldn't help but want to hug the boy and never let go. She had no idea what she would have done without him. His calm, collected manner seemed effortless. He wasn't trying too hard, trying just enough as he chattered away politely with her mother.

Sam was wonderful. Why…why couldn't she have loved him? But she did in a way. Not the way he loved her, but she did love him. Never had she had such a friend like him before. Rachel was different. Rachel was her best friend (among many other things), but Sam was a friend in just that sense alone. Perhaps her first real one, one that would last -she could only hope. That is, if he didn't end up hating her for all of this.

"It's terrible what that boy gets away with, making such disgusting accusations. I've half a mind to call the school about this."

"It's fine, Mom," she said diffidently, pushing the food around on her plate halfheartedly with her fork. "No one pays any attention to what that freak says."

Judy looked to Sam, leaning towards him slightly, dripping with the false charm she always put it upon herself to have. "Not that I condone any form of aggressive behavior, sweetheart, but by any chance have you confronted the boy about these heinous lies?"

"I wouldn't exactly call it a confrontation, ma'am, but we did have a very firm discussion about it," he replied. "I'm sure he's seen the error of his ways."

Judy chuckled and went back to her dinner. "Very good."

Quinn looked up at him in surprise. He didn't tell her that. Was that why Jacob put up the retraction?

"Did you really?"

Sam nodded. "Course. He should have known better than to mess with you, Quinn. He just needed the reminder."

She smiled at him gratefully.

"He deserves worse, however," Judy sniffed.

"Mom, really, it's not a big deal. He's a loser, everyone knows it."

"Yes and I suppose it's not all his fault."

"Excuse me?" she replied stiffly, bracing herself for what was sure to come.

"Well, what do you expect, Quinnie? Hanging around that Rachel girl… You only bring trouble on yourself by being associated with her."

"We're just in Glee club together," she said wearily. "That's all."

Her expression soured ever so slightly. "I know how much you like that little singing group, sweetie, but if it's affecting your reputation to such a degree…perhaps you should reconsider. People like that girl, who knows what kind of values she's been taught? It's disgusting what those perverted men have been allowed to do. Adopt a child? It's deplorable what society has lowered itself to today. Now we allow people like that to raise children? No wonder why there are so many problems in the world. They've probably corrupted that girl beyond measure. Don't you agree, Sam?"

He shrugged and gave her a nondescript, tight lipped nod.

Judy shuddered. "Absolutely horrid."

Sam looked to Quinn sympathetically, but her face remained expressionless as ever.

Chapter Text

Quinn's head was killing her. Rachel and Sam had been bickering with each other for the past two hours, flinging barbed insults over her head in a whirlwind as they walked together through the mall. Sam wanted to check out FYE for the deluxe edition of 'Avatar' while Rachel wanted to go to Claire's (they were having a sale) and Quinn wanted to stick her head in the fountain until she drowned.

Endless. They were endless! She knew it would be difficult at first for the two of them to get along, but they were reasonable people! (Sam more so than Rachel, but that was Rachel being Rachel.) Yet, it'd been two weeks of this! Regionals were coming up soon and the Glee club had been hard at work rehearsing though their set list had yet to be decided upon. Sue was putting all the pressure on Quinn and the Cheerios for the upcoming Nationals championship. And Sam and Rachel could not for the life of them exchange a civil word! Her plan to have them all be seen together amicably, so as to deter any further gossip, was failing miserably because the two of them were constantly at each other's throats!

It was when the gossip about Sam and Quinn having sex started flying around the school that Rachel did a 180 on her decision to accept Sam's existence.

It had spread like a forest fire. Everyone knew. Rachel hadn't been in school that morning for five full minutes before she overheard at least a dozen people gossiping about it. She never said a word to Quinn. Her icy distance spoke for her. Quinn tried to find a chance to talk to her about it. Rachel had already heard Sam insinuate it, so she didn't think it was going to be that much of a shock for the girl to hear it. Rachel knew it was all lies. What difference did it make? But she'd been wrong.

After searching for Rachel all day, the diva had even swapped seats with people in their shared classes so that she wouldn't have to be near Quinn, she'd walked into Glee to see Rachel and Puck sitting very…very close together. Rachel was practically halfway in his lap, curled up against his shoulder as they laughed and whispered conspiratorially with each other. No one else in Glee really noticed besides Finn who looked constipated. Puck said something that made Rachel blush and put his hand on her knee. She ducked her head before giving him a shy smile.

Quinn felt like she would be sick.

He brushed some loose strands away from her hair and made a goofy face which Rachel laughed at heartily and gave him a flirty push.

Mr. Schuester walked in and said hello to her, she was apparently still standing in the middle of the room staring at them. Sam followed in after. He took her hand and was going to lead them to their seats, but Quinn stiffly pulled away and walked out.

"Quinn? Hey, Quinn! Where are you going?" Mr. Schue called, but she was already gone.

Puck and Rachel were still wrapped up together with googly eyes. Sam took one look at them before turning back to Mr. Schue and shrugged.

"She just hasn't been feeling good today," he said. "She might be coming down with something."

Rachel walked into the girl's bathroom a little while later after Glee was over and heard someone crying. Not expecting anyone to be there, she knocked on the stall door gently in hopes she could maybe help whoever was so upset.

"Go away!" the person snarled and she was stunned to hear who it was.

Weren't the Cheerios supposed to be on the field by now?

"Quinn? Is that you? Quinn, open the door."

But she didn't.

Rachel looked around to make sure they were alone and leaned against the stall tiredly.

"I was going to wait and meet you after practice so we could talk."

The door opened suddenly and the blonde stepped out, looking an absolute mess. Her ponytail was half fallen out, her eyes were red and puffy, mascara ran over her cheeks. Rachel's chest tightened painfully at the sight. Quinn gave her one look before walking to over to get some paper towels. She stood in front of the mirrors, wiping her face clean without a word. It was clear she'd been crying for some time.

"Is this about Puck earlier?" she asked.

"What do you think?" she shot back, her voice hoarse from crying, and Rachel felt even worse.

Yes, she knew exactly what she was doing in Glee club earlier. All day she had heard nothing but the wild rumors of Sam and Quinn's sex life. As the day progressed, the stories became more outlandish. Sam had a fetish for doing it outside. Apparently the football field had already been christened a dozen times. Quinn wore a dominatrix outfit under her cheerleading uniform and had a leather whip in her locker.

Rachel was being driven to madness.

It was either break down sobbing or give Quinn a taste of her own damn medicine. So that's what she was going to do. Noah was the perfect opportunity. It'd worked before, why not try it again? Some harmless flirting would be enough to make Quinn understand just what she was putting Rachel through.

She folded her arms across her chest. "Well, doesn't feel so good, does it?"

Quinn looked up sharply at her in the mirror, meeting her eyes from where Rachel stood behind her.

"Let me tell you something, Rachel," she said sadly. "Something you really don't seem to get. I don't want this. I don't want to lie like this. I don't want to do this with Sam. I would give anything not to have to…" She shook her head. "But we don't get the best choices in life. I don't have any romantic feelings for him. Whenever I kiss him, however chaste and brief, I think of you. And he knows it too. It really sucks, okay? For all of us. I hate what it is I've asked you both to do. I hate it so much. But I don't know of any other way to protect myself. This is all I have."

She turned around, leaving the paper towel on the sink and stared right into her eyes.

"But what you did today with Puck…that was out of spite. It was malicious and cruel. Fawning over a boy you're genuinely attracted to? Don't deny it. I know your thing with him is physical. Whatever. You knew how it would make me feel and you relished it. So fine, Rachel," she said dully. "If doing stuff like that makes you feel better, if it makes you feel better to hurt me, then do it. Punish me. I deserve it. Go ahead. Crush me all you want. I know it's only fair after what I've done to you."

Rachel didn't even realize she had been crying until the door swung closed behind Quinn.

She had just wanted her girlfriend jealous, to understand what she felt every time she saw her with Sam, but she didn't want this. Quinn was right. Rachel did it on purpose to hurt her when Quinn was only doing what she felt she had to. Hurting her girlfriend was the last thing in the world she wanted. And that's just what she had done.

She never tried anything like that again.

Though Rachel no longer tried the jealousy route, it didn't stop her from going for the jugular when Sam was involved and the boy was all too happy to return it. Despite the inner sanctum's squabbling, the plan had actually worked out well to knock Jacob's blog post out of the running. Quinn was apprehensive about what Sam was going to do with the knowledge she gave him, but the boy came through.

Apparently, he "accidentally" let it slip to Mike, who didn't believe him and announced it some of the other guys in the locker room after practice (mostly the Glee guys, with a few others). Puck still had his suspicions, so Sam just went over and whispered exactly what Quinn had told him.

Puck looked at him then back to the other guys.

"He's doing her," he said simply, officially convinced, and went off to change.

The guys stared at Sam in awe and thus the tides were turned.

The information with which Sam had convinced Puck did indeed remain a secret. How, Quinn would never know, but the school had left the Rachel tryst behind in the dust and jumped on the fact that ex-president of the Chastity club and teen Mom was now sexually active again. There was a school-wide pool going around to see how long it would take for her to get pregnant again. It was suspected, but not confirmed, that some of the teachers were putting down their money too.

It would have hurt a lot more to hear that if it hadn't meant that the heat was finally off her and Rachel. She was too relieved to be angry about the god awful insensitivity running through William McKinley. No more lesbian gossip and Rachel was still hers. She felt like she could take on anything knowing that they were safe.

Jacob had taken a huge hit with the fabrication of his so called "news". He was getting slushied and tossed in the dumpster almost twice as often as usual. The boy was bitter. Quinn felt vindicated.

But this feud between her ex-boyfriend-turned-gay-beard and current-secret-lesbian-girlfriend was driving her out of her freaking mind.

"That's it! We're going to T-Mobile!" she snapped, daring either of them to dispute it. "I want a cover for my new cell."

Neither did and Quinn stalked off in another direction, the other two dragged sullenly behind her.

Her decision to toss her phone in the field that night proved to be a very poor one. She told Rachel exactly what had happened after she left her house that night in a terror. The brunette insisted on a word for word recounting of how her conversation with Sam had gone, which Quinn obliged to the best of her ability. She even told her about how after she hung up on Sam and tossed her phone, she'd sat on the hood of her car for a good long while before fishing out a flashlight from the trunk and went look for the cell. It proved to be useless in the dark. Rachel offered to go back with her in the afternoon to try and find it.

Find it, they did. Sitting in a watery puddle of mud.

As the blonde stared down at her ruined phone, Rachel curled her arm around her waist and brushed her lips against her cheek, whispering promises that everything would be okay. Quinn turned around and kissed her fiercely.

"You can't hook up with other girls."

Sam burst out laughing, but the look on her face quickly sobered him.

"Oh, you better be joking! I may be a good guy, Quinn, but like hell I'm gonna be a saint. Don't even try on this one. You can't order me away from other girls. It ain't happening."

"I'm serious!" She glared at him. "You can't! Do you have any idea what that would do to my reputation? I can't have my boyfriend cheating on me! I'll be made laughingstock. I'm Quinn Fabray, Captain of the Cheerios, and NO ONE cheats on me."

Okay, so maybe she had a touch of denial. Her two most significant exes had actually cheated on her…repeatedly. The point is that she wasn't going to let it happen again – real boyfriend or not.

"Do you even hear yourself right now?" he said in disbelief. "I'm doing my damndest to make sure your-"

"I understand that, I do, so if you hadn't jumped down my throat so quickly, you'd see that I have an alternative prepared. A compromise, if you will."

"You're going to hook up with me?" he said doubtfully.

She hit him with her book. "Stop it! Just shut up and listen you moron. You can't hook up with the girls in this school cause it'll get around eventually. You don't even really like anyone here, anyway, do you?"

He shrugged halfheartedly.

"So my proposal is that when you need to do…that sort of thing…do it with girls that don't go to McKinley."

"Are you joking?" he groaned. "Quinn! That's like next to impossible! I'll never get anyone. Outside of school, my options are the MILF's Puckerman does and skanky waitresses twice my age...with like teeth missing and all."

She pinched the bridge of her nose fiercely. "Sam, why is it that you never know when to shut your freakishly large mouth?"

"Hey!" His hand flew up to cover his lips in embarrassment.

"I'm trying to explain something to you here and you're making me want to slam a locker on your head."

"Jeez! Talk already then!"

"I know it's not fair to ask you not to date any other girls you might be interested in just because you're trying to help me out here, so I came up with something that would work for us both. You know Trinity High? Two towns over?"

"Our school rivals? Duh. Karofsky and 'zi got thrown out of one of our games against them for trying to stomp on the linebackers nuts."

Quinn rolled her eyes impatiently. "The Trixies, Trinity's cheerleading squad, is one of the Cheerios' biggest enemies…according to Coach Sylvester anyway. She had us all sign airtight contracts swearing to never make eye contact with them and if found guilty, we have to lose an eye ourselves…or stand on one leg for three hours…I don't remember which. Anyway, that's not important. Despite the so called "rivalry" between us, I actually am friendly with some of the girls on the team. We meet up every few weeks for coffee. My plan is to take you along on the next coffee date, introduce you as my very cute, jock, musically talented, single, friend, and get you invited to one of their weekend ragers. If you can manage to make yourself some acquaintances over there…you might just have a shot."

"What difference does it make if I hook up with girls from Trinity or girls from here?"

She gave him an exasperated look. "They're our rivals! No one from McKinley hangs out with the Trinity crowd so whatever you do with them will never get back to our school. You're free to do as you please."

"You think you can get me in? I heard they're pretty exclusive."

"Trust me," she said with a smirk and gave him a once over, "one word from me and you're in."

He ruminated on that for a few minutes as they walked down the hall, arm in arm, headed for lunch.

"Are the girls hot?"

Quinn looked to him with a slight narrowing of her eyes. "They're cheerleaders. What do you think?"

Sam was grinning from ear to ear when they walked into the cafeteria. Rachel took one look at them and went back to her conversation with Mercedes.

Later that day they were in Rachel's room again. Her fathers were out on their date night. As it worked out, their date night ended up being the girls' date night as well. Quinn really loved this room. It was a sanctuary. The rest of the house was a war zone, but not this room. This bright, yellow, color infused to the borderline point of painful and yet not so, room was one of her favorite places in the world. It screamed Rachel from every nook and cranny. How neatly it was kept, cleaned and organized in such a way that would make Miss Pillsbury proud, the Broadway posters, the DVD lined shelves, her bookcases of sheet music and diva biographies, the stand with her pink bedazzled microphone, the four poster bed with the bright orange floral coverlet and pink pillows…especially the four poster bed. The same one they were lying on right now.

She was most intently focused on those plush, full lips of her girlfriend's. God, how she loved this mouth. How perfectly it fit her own. How delicious those lips were…and that tongue…that tongue!

There was some muffled speech coming from the other girl, but it hardly registered. They were kissing now. That was more important. She interlaced their fingers and raised them above Rachel's head so she had the freedom to unashamedly rub herself against the length of the brunette's body.

Rachel moaned and hooked her leg over her waist. "Ohhhh, but…oh!...wait…"

Quinn didn't hear a thing. Only the throbbing between her legs and the taste of Rachel in her mouth mattered.

"Quinn…I-I-I need to…"

Her lips muffled the rest of it with pleasure. It went on like that for a little while longer before Rachel gasped and finally pulled away long enough to get out what she wanted to say.

"I'm not having sex with you, Quinn!"

"Okay."

She didn't even hesitate, bringing their mouths back together.

"Are you listening? I'm dead serious about this. Not until I'm ready."

She just sucked on her throat, lashing her tongue out to taste the sweetness there. "Okay."

"QUINN!" she exclaimed exasperatedly and held her off, forcing them both to sit up.

"What?" she pouted with a whine, breathing hard. "What's the problem?"

"You're not listening!"

"Yes, I am!" she protested. "I heard you. No sex. It's not exactly news to me, Rachel."

"But you're just brushing it off like it's not a concern."

"It's not."

"It's not?" she echoed.

"Right. Hence the 'okay'."

She leaned back in to kiss her, but Rachel was adamant and ducked her attempt. Quinn was growing slightly annoyed. Why was she being so stubborn? There were things to do! Kisses to have! Touching! Lots of touching! They talked all the time. Did it have to be right now?

"You're aware that it may be a significant period of time before I'm fully ready to commit myself to you in that way?"

"Yessss." Quinn rolled her eyes. "Painfully aware."

"I don't appreciate the cavalier attitude you're taking here. It makes me think that you believe you can somehow get your way despite what I'm trying to tell you."

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "You think I'm planning to seduce you?"

Rachel didn't reply.

She smirked and leaned in closer, hovering inches away from her mouth, and licked her lips lasciviously. "Would it be possible for me to seduce you, baby?"

"No!" she insisted, but there was too much emphasis on it, and she grew red in the face.

Quinn chuckled knowingly and led Rachel to lie back on the bed, languidly stretching out on top of her. "Aw, don't worry about me. I promise to be a good girl. Remember my motto, 'it's all about the teasing, not the pleasing'. And I plan to do a whole lot of teasing…" She grinned and delved back into Rachel's throat.

"Yes. That was your motto and yet you still had sex with Noah."

Quinn froze. Tears leapt to her eyes so quickly she didn't even realize they were there. Rachel stared up at her in shock and covered her mouth, not quite believing the words that had come out of her own mouth. Rearing back like she'd burned, Quinn glared viciously at the other girl for a brief moment before she got off the bed and started putting on her shoes, gathering her things.

Her stomach felt like it had been twisted into a thousand knots. She felt cold. She knew she was trembling.

Was this happening? How could she... HOW COULD SHE?

"Quinn, wait, I didn't mean-" Rachel scurried off the bed and tried to stop her, but when her hand brushed Quinn's arm, the blonde spun around in a fiery rage, dropping her things.

"GET OFF ME!" she roared. "You do NOT get to touch me after saying something like that. What hell is wrong with you?"

"I don't want you with Sam!" she shot back angrily.

"What?" Quinn tugged her fingers through her already mussed hair in exasperation, blinking in confusion.

"I don't want you with him," she said plainly. "I want you to end it, the whole charade. It's gone far enough."

"What does Sam have to do with anything?" she cried. "He's just a friend, Rachel! A friend who's gone far and above the call of duty to help us. Why are you freaking? We already discussed this! In excruciating detail! You agreed! Why are you changing your mind?"

"I'm not having sex with you, Quinn!"

She was seconds away from pounding her head against the wall in frustration.

"For the love of – JESUS, RACHEL! I KNOW THAT! IT'S FINE! I don't get you! One minute you're telling me we're not doing enough and now is it too much? Just talk to me already because I really just might lose my freaking mind here."

"I'm not having sex with you," she repeated, "and you have a pseudo-boyfriend for all the world to see. Do you understand? If you're not getting that satisfaction from me then why wouldn't you just end up getting it elsewhere? He's attractive, easy to be around, and you certainly liked him enough to agree to date him in the first place. It wouldn't even be like cheating because again, he is your quote, unquote, official boyfriend."

Quinn took a step back as though she'd been physically pushed. "You think I'm going to have sex with Sam just because you're not putting out?" she said incredulously.

How were they actually having this conversation?

Rachel folded her arms across her chest and kept her gaze downwards. "It's a perfectly valid concern especially considering our ages, the fact that we're in high school, our maturity levels, and that you've…"

Quinn's eyes grew cold, her voice even colder. Ice and fire. That was all she could feel. Now she was getting it.

"Oh, I see. Because I've screwed around before, that means I'll do it again? Once a cheater, always a cheater?"

Rachel swallowed but didn't respond.

"The hypocrisy should be slapping you across the face, but I guess you didn't think too much about that, hm?"

"That was different," she maintained. "I didn't have sex with Noah. It was just a stupid kiss. And I told Finn the truth. What would have happened if I didn't interfere with that little scam you had running, Quinn? You know as well as I do that had I never stepped in, right now Finn would still be thinking he had a child out there."

"Don't," she hissed warningly.

That was too far. So…so far…

"That's the difference. I make mistakes, but at least I'm honest about them. You lie as effortlessly as people breathe. Am I supposed to just ignore that? Pretend that I'm the only exception? I may be naïve and easily manipulated at times, Quinn, but I'm not an idiot. Look at what we are even. Just another lie. You would lie until your last breath if you could."

"If that's what you think about me, then why are you even bothering with all this?" she shot back at her bitterly.

"Because I love you!" Rachel exclaimed. "But it doesn't make me any less afraid of what you might do. If anything, my fears are drastically heightened due to the depth of my feelings for you."

"I guess you're just gonna have to trust me then," she said harshly.

"That's the problem, Quinn," she replied sadly. "I don't."

She took a deep breath. Pain rolled in with anger and together it formed a massive black hole sucking her in so that she didn't think she would ever breathe, see, or feel again.

"Well, doesn't that just suck for you?"

With that, she stormed out, slamming the door hard behind her.

Quinn opened her locker a few days later to see a note lying on top of her books. She saw Rachel's handwriting and her first instinct was to crumple it up and leave it in the nearest trash bin, but something stopped her.

She read it with extreme reluctance. The heavy paper, like one used for letters, was crushed in her vise like grip as she did. Rachel wanted her to meet her in the auditorium that afternoon after she finished Cheerios practice. Like hell Quinn was going to go.

The note got shoved to the back of her locker and fell to the bottom.

God, she was so stupid.

She showered and dressed after Cheerios practice, thoroughly determined to ignore her girlfriend's request, and what did she find? Instead of walking out to her car in the parking lot, like she should have, she was opening the door to the auditorium.

Rachel had such a hold over her. Quinn just didn't understand it. How did this girl manage to make her feel like this? Like she would do anything? Give up anything?

The empty auditorium was filled with the sounds a few simple scales being played on the piano. Rachel was sitting front and center, the lights shining down on her as she ran her fingers over the keys.

The anger whipped through her again so quickly, Quinn lost her breath at its ferociousness. She wanted to rage and scream and cry. But she didn't. She wanted to turn back. But something wouldn't let her do that either. Approaching the brunette cautiously from behind on the stage, Rachel didn't even turn around when she spoke, knowing Quinn was there.

"I thought three days was an adequate amount of time to give us both a chance to cool off so that we could rationally discuss what happened," she said calmly.

"There's no discussion to be had," she replied coldly. "I have no desire to speak with you. I only came to make sure you were aware of that so that you don't blow up my phone later worrying if I'm alive. Don't call me. Don't talk to me. Don't even look at me. I'm leaving now."

A few more notes played hesitantly on the piano before it stopped and Rachel's voice drifted softly through the space between them.

"Never knew I could feel like this,
Like I've never seen the sky before,"

Quinn stopped walking.

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. This song? Oh God! This song?

"Want to vanish inside your kiss,
Everyday I'm loving you more and more,"

She turned around, heart pounding. Rachel was looking straight at her, those perfect lips wrapping around the words with effortless beauty.

"Listen to my heart, can you hear it sing?
Come back to me and forgive everything!"

Her feet were moving of their own volition, until she was back on the stage again, at the far end watching as the diva sang to her.

"Seasons may change, winter to spring,
But I love you, 'til the end of time…"

Rachel was about to sing the next verse, but Quinn couldn't help herself. It was on instinct alone. She almost laughed at the look of shock on the diva's face.

"Come what may…" she sang softly, not much more than a whisper, and grew louder, stepping closer with each one.
"Come what may…
Come what may!
I will love you,"

"I will love you!" Rachel joined in eagerly, looking near tears now.

"Until my dying day,"

"…dying day,"

They harmonized together now. "Come what may… Come what may…"

Quinn sat down on the piano bench next to her as Rachel finished with a sweet lingering note.

"Come what may."

Sighing happily, the brunette looked up at her with shining, brilliant eyes.

"Come what may?" Quinn asked. "Are you sure?"

She nodded. "For better or for worse. Oh," she giggled, "we sound like we're getting married."

Someday.

Quinn sucked in a breath, feeling dizzy. She really had just thought that, didn't she?

"You know…y-you said you loved me in that song," Rachel pointed out timidly, avoiding eye contact.

"It's the song." She shrugged. "Not my choice."

"I see…" she frowned slightly and turned away to pointlessly shuffle some of the sheet music atop the piano.

Quinn's heart hurt to know that she had let Rachel down again. But she couldn't do it yet.

It just wasn't…

She couldn't go there.

"You're just lucky that's like one of my all time favorite movies," she grumbled, trying to take her mind off it.

Rachel suddenly beamed at her. "Really?" she said breathlessly. "Quinn, you are aware that it is in fact classified as a musical?"

"As shocking as this will sound, Berry, I don't mind musicals," she retorted. "Actually, there's a lot of them that I enjoy."

She opened and shut her mouth in a happy, but stunned disbelief.

Quinn laughed. "Oh my God, what did you think I watched? Sappy romcoms?"

"Horror," Rachel said bluntly. "Gory, slasher, sadistic, thriller films. The more blood, the better."

The blonde's mouth dropped open before she burst into a huge round of belly laughter that echoed through the auditorium.

"Am I honestly that scary?"

Rachel tucked her tongue between her teeth. "I refuse to answer that on the grounds that it may incriminate me in a court of law, but…am I right?"

Quinn glowered at her playfully. "I'm not sure if I should be proud or insulted."

"You're avoiding the question."

"Okay, fine, yes, I like horror movies too. Jeez. But that's not all I watch! I'm not some psycho obsessed with them or anything."

The diva grinned self-satisfactorily, pleased to have been proven right. "This is marvelous, Quinn! Now that I'm aware of this, our movie nights can be so much more integrated! Have you seen 'Funny Girl'? That is an absolute staple. What about 'My Fair Lady'? 'A Star is Born'? Or what about-"

"GAH!" Quinn held her hand over the babbling girl's mouth. "This is exactly why I never mentioned it! I said I liked some of them. Our movie nights are not going to be taken over by Audrey Hepburn and Barbra Streisand!"

"But Quinn!"

"Ah, ah, ah!" She held a finger up. "I will compromise at certain points, but don't you dare try to monopolize it based on this revelation."

Rachel nodded and took a few deep breaths to calm herself, but she was still practically bouncing in her seat. Quinn knew she was still plotting all the movies to force her to watch, whether by pleasant coercion or the simple chain her to the couch method…

"Bet you'll never guess what Santana's favorite movies are," she offered in an effort to distract the dangerously plotting girl.

"I'm going to take a wild stab in the dark and say that they contain something of a pornographic nature…"

Quinn snickered. "You'd think so, but under the water balloons she calls a chest, Santana Lopez is the sappiest girl of them all. Even the slightest of tragic romances will induce flood-worthy waterworks and romcoms are her holy grail."

"You're making that up!"

Quinn held up her hand. "Girl scouts honor."

"You would be a girl scout."

"And you never made it out of Brownies. You terrified your fellow troop members and the squad leader."

Rachel squeaked indignantly. "I was merely endowed with the healthy spirit of competition and determination to reach my goals! Just because the rest of them were too lazy and nearsighted to see what I was trying to achieve…"

"They had you impeached."

"I didn't even know you could be impeached from Girl Scouts! I swear there was some legal mishandling there!" she insisted with a huff and then rolled her eyes. "We're getting off track…"

They giggled.

"Thank you," Quinn murmured.

"I figured it appropriate," she replied. "It is 'the lover's secret song' after all. I found the themes akin to what we are currently experiencing."

"It's perfect – in a kind of obvious, sappy way."

"All musicals are, but that's what makes them so splendid. They know what they are without being apologetic for it and convey sincerity in such a raw, honest way that no one could dare disagree."

"Okay," she agreed with a smile. "So that's our song. But will you promise me something?"

"Haven't I already promised you everything?" Rachel said softly.

How her heart beat that much harder to hear her say such a thing…

She took a moment to compose herself and then finally got the words together. "When we leave here…when we are hundreds of miles away from McKinley High, my parents, Lima, Ohio, everything. When I'm in college and you're either on Broadway or at some amazing school for the musically gifted…"

"Juilliard," she answered for her automatically.

"And we're together…" Quinn gnawed on her bottom lip, looking up at Rachel through her long eyelashes, "I want you to pick a different song for us."

Her brow furrowed. "But why? I thought this one was-"

"It is," she reassured her quickly. "For now. But what's the point of a secret song when we're not a secret anymore?"

Rachel looked like she was about to cry again so she leaned in and kissed her sweetly, so that when she finally pulled away, there were no more tears, just her shy, radiant smile.

"So, do you promise?" she asked again somewhat anxiously.

"Promise."

Quinn took a deep breath before starting this. It had to be said. They had to move past this. What else was there to do?

"Y-you have every right not to trust me. I was wrong to get so upset with you before."

"Quinn, no, I-"

"Let me finish."

She nodded, biting her lip hard to keep quiet.

"It just really hurt to think that you wouldn't, but I can't deny it. I just want you to know that I'll do whatever it takes to help you to trust me. No matter how long. With this Sam thing, I know how difficult it must be to believe…but it is true. I just want you."

"We have a lot of history together, Quinn," Rachel sighed. "Most of it would be better forgotten…"

"Couldn't we forget?" she pleaded.

"I wish that were possible. But I can't. I love you, you know I do, but these insecurities, these fears, which are far from irrational, aren't just going to disappear tomorrow or even next week. You can't just apologize and make it all go away."

"You can forgive, but you can't forget." Quinn nodded in understanding.

"You've given me all the reasons in the world not to trust you, Quinn Fabray, but I don't care. I'm going to try anyway. Just…please don't break my heart." Her voice cracked over the words.

"I think I'm more in danger of that," the blonde muttered.

She rolled her eyes. "I find that rather impossible."

"No? I'm terrified that this will get to be too much for you, Rachel! That I'll have asked for too much. That you'll think it's not worth it anymore. That you'll leave me and go back to Finn or someone who can give you-"

"Shut up, Quinn."

"Excuse me?"

"I apologize for my bluntness, but just shut up. I'm not leaving you. And since you've established that you have no desire to leave me either, we're going to stop talking about this."

"Y-you're telling me to stop talking? You're telling me that Rachel Barbra Berry wants to stop talking?"

"Yes," she said simply, "I'd much rather we be kissing right now."

Quinn threw aside all incredulity and fused their mouths together.

Chapter Text

"It's inflammatory! Defamation of character! I'll sue!"

That was the consensus of Rachel's ranting throughout the entire morning. Fortunately, Jacob Ben Israel had taken it upon himself to have the sense enough to be scarce that day. Quinn wasn't really bothered by it all, actually kind of amused...strangely enough. Sam strutted around the smuggest grin on his face that rivaled Puck on his best day. Who knew that agreeing to be a beard would reap such social benefits for him?

After he'd taken such a hit for the so called "lie" he posted about Quinn and Rachel, Jacob was bitter and wanted revenge. He didn't think it was fair that he was getting such a backlash for what he knew was true though had no evidence of. Since Quinn, Rachel, and Sam had taken to spending more time together. As in…a lot of time together. In school, outside of school, everywhere. They were the new three musketeers. Which gave him the perfect opportunity for yet another outlandish piece of gossip to spin McKinley High on its head. Also, it was his chance to get back at them for making his life hell (however inadvertently). The guy just couldn't comprehend the fact that he'd brought it on himself.

Late last night, everyone had gotten the update alert from his blog.

SOURCES CONFIRM THAT TWO WELL KNOWN BLONDIES AND A LOUD MOUTHED BRUNETTE ARE INVOLVED IN A CLANDESTINE MENAGE A TROIS , BEING THE FIRST OFFICIAL TRI-AMOROUS RELATIONSHIP EVER IN THE HISTORY OF WILLIAM MCKINLEY HIGH.

Cue social uproar.

The three were outside for lunch on one of the first few nice days of the season. They had opted for the lesser crowded picnic area by the football field rather than the concrete steps that mostly everyone hung out at when the weather was agreeable. None of them felt like being accosted by the rumor mill during their lunch break.

Gossip was in a full manic swing at the moment and the agreement between the three was to make no official comment on it. If people asked, don't deny, don't concede, don't answer at all. It left things ambiguous enough to keep people spinning for awhile until they tired of the idea and moved on to something new, but if they started denying the rumors, it could be construed as 'thou doth protest too much' and then that was a whole different game. Let the student body say what they will. The three of them had nothing to do with it.

At the moment, they were sitting in the grass with their bagged lunches. Sam was lying down with his head in Quinn's lap, the obligatory boyfriend/girlfriend pose, as he dozed lightly, while Rachel sat shoulder to shoulder with Quinn, brushing against each other every so slightly. Quinn had one hand over Sam's chest while using the other to eat her lunch.

Rachel knew she shouldn't be bothered by this, especially with how her girlfriend was barely paying any attention at all to the boy in her lap, she was smiling and chattering away with Rachel, hardly ever taking her eyes off her.

Logically, she knew this.

Yet in her heart there was an ever constant ache.

How badly she wanted to be able to touch Quinn freely as Sam did. To hold her hand. To kiss her in the hall. To be where Sam was right now.

It just wasn't fair. She had agreed to this, she knew that, she wanted to keep Quinn and thought she understood the score. Wrong. She did know it would be hard, but never did she think it would be this hard. Despite everything Quinn did (and she did try) to make it easier, to offset the pain, it wasn't enough. It would never be enough. Not until the day came where Quinn could admit who she was to the world and…who she was with. Until then, Rachel just prayed she had the strength to wait.

Because what was the alternative? Being without her? Quinn wasn't trying to hurt her. When they were together…Rachel had never known more happiness in her life, but it was times like these, times that came far too often, that had her sinking. And when she felt herself reaching that breaking point, Quinn would smile at her and whisper promises of days to come that reminded her of just what she was doing all this for. And so the cycle began anew.

"You alright?" Quinn asked softly, seeing that Rachel had been engrossed in herself for a time now.

"Fine," she replied simply, looking around at the few milling students that gave them some odd looks before heading back inside. Lunch period was almost over. "We really should stop spending so much time together, the three of us, we're only providing more fodder for the gossip vine."

"Seriously not having a problem with that," Sam said lazily.

Quinn rolled her eyes and clapped her hand over his mouth to keep him from saying anything else.

"Everyone knows Jewfro's gone off in the deep end with these accusations. No one believes a word of it."

It was true. After this most recent claim, Jacob's credibility was shot to hell. It stirred things up, had people gossiping and laughing about it as though it was true, but no one actually believed it. It was just simply fun to speculate.

"Sam here might be perfectly fine with gaining a reputation for having sexual liaisons with two people at once, but I don't appreciate being lumped into such base debauchery with him!"

"Hey!" he said, muffled, throwing off Quinn's hand. "Not cool, Rachel. What, I'm not hot enough for you? I thought you liked blondes…"

"Sam, be a good lesbro and go back to sleep!" Quinn said impatiently. She looked at the brunette imploringly. "It's just silliness, Rach. Nothing real is coming of it. Let them talk. Life in Lima is boring enough, why not let them make up some scandalous things about us? There's nothing better to do."

"You of all people know how hurtful rumors can be. Isn't that just the thing we're doing all of this to avoid?"

"Anything to distract them from the truth!" she retorted harshly.

There it was. Yet another denial. Yet another rejection. Yet another example of Quinn being ashamed of them. Of her. Now she was so ashamed that she'd rather the entire school believe they were all having sex with each other instead of just admitting that Rachel was her girlfriend? Why?

She started to get up to leave, but Quinn grabbed her arm, holding her there with a distressed expression on her beautiful face.

"Wait. I didn't mean it like that. Rachel…you know why I'm doing this."

"Do I?"

The blonde sighed resignedly and Rachel saw Sam lift his eyes to the sky, pretending not to be involved in the conversation when really he was hanging on every word.

"You still don't believe me?"

"No…I do," she replied hesitantly after a while. "But aren't you concerned about what your mother will have to say about this?"

Quinn chuckled. "No way. Even my Mom knows enough to know this is pure high school craziness. That is if she hears about it at all. This isn't 'your daughter's gay!' it's more along the lines of 'your daughter's a slut!' and that kind of rumor just doesn't go as far."

"No one's saying you're a slut." Sam frowned. "I didn't hear that! Who said it? I'll-"

"I'm apparently having threesomes on a daily basis," she replied dryly, looking down at him. "The sluttiness is implied."

"I hate this," Rachel muttered. "I just absolutely hate this."

"We only have a little more than a year left," Quinn reasoned gently. "Then we'll be out of here and we won't have to hide anymore."

"I know all this," she snapped.

"But it still hurts?"

"Of course it does!"

Quinn looked around to make sure there wasn't anyone looking, the rest of the kids had gone back inside already, and pressed a quick peck to her mouth. Rachel frowned, but settled back in, not looking to leave anymore.

The slight display of affection took her off guard. Quinn had never dared to be so free before, even if they didn't see anyone right now. If they did anything in the school, it was in secluded places, behind very closed doors. It seemed inane because it was so small, but Quinn really had never done anything like that before.

Deciding to test this new limit, Rachel picked up a grape and offered it to Quinn who just grinned and opened her mouth to accept it. After popping it past those perfect pink lips, she sighed in bewilderment and leaned her head against Quinn's shoulder. The other girl didn't refuse and instead rested her head on top of hers.

Rachel had no idea what to make of this.

What she did know was that right now Quinn was feeling safe. She loved safe Quinn. That was when she got her Quinn. Why she was feeling that way, Rachel didn't understand. Was she becoming more comfortable with them or was it this new piece of gossip about the three of them that was somehow making her feel more secure? She'd have to ask her about it later, but right now she just wanted to enjoy being able to cuddle up to her girlfriend out in the open with nothing to worry about.

"Are you two macking on each other now cause I totally have rights to see it!" Sam twisted his head up at them.

Rachel just made a face while Quinn stuffed his unusually large mouth with a handful of grapes, effectively quieting him.

Sam was walking Quinn to one of her classes later that afternoon when he suddenly pulled her aside before they reached the classroom. Irritated, she was about to protest, saying she'd be late, but at the look on his face, she immediately silenced herself.

"Did you ever really like me?" he blurted out anxiously.

Her brow furrowed in confusion.

What kind of a question was that?

"Of course I like you! You're one of my best friends. What would make y-"

"No." He shook his head impatiently. "I mean when we were dating. For real. Or at least what I thought was real. When I first asked you out and all. Was it…" He shifted uneasily. "Did you like me even a little bit or was it just, you know, for whatever."

Quinn felt that painful knot in her throat again. How sick and tired she was of feeling that thing. Of feeling guilty. Of feeling ashamed. Of feeling sad.

"I did…like you," she said honestly, lowering her voice so they wouldn't be overheard. "It wasn't…the way you wanted, I guess, but I wanted to be with you because… Well, just because of that."

Sam looked confused, which she understood. It was confusing for herself even.

"Let me put it to you this way," she leaned in with a mischievous glint in her eye, "Of all the boys I've kissed, you're the best. No contest."

His eyes lit up at once and he pumped his hands in the air victoriously. "YES! I KNEW IT!"

Quinn shrugged, seeming to ignore his exuberance. "I'm not so sure what that says about you though."

"W-what do you mean?" he said, deflating slightly, his arms coming back to rest at his side again. "I'm an awesome kisser – that's what it means."

"I'm gay, Sam," she explained. "If I liked kissing you, then it might mean…well… that you kind of kiss like a girl?"

"WHAT?" he cried so loudly, it had the rest of the hall looking at them, Quinn didn't care.

"You have very soft lips! I like them!"

"You take that back, Quinn!" he growled.

"Take what back?" she said innocently.

"I do NOT kiss like a girl!" he insisted wildly. "I'm just the freaking champion of kissers that can even make lesbians enjoy it!"

Quinn laughed and started walking away towards her class as the bell rang.

"QUINN!" he whined and went after her, pulling her to stop. "Here, I'll prove it!"

He dove in for a kiss, but she grabbed his jaw before he got there, causing his lips to purse, and shook him teasingly.

"Don't even think about it, Evans." She patted his cheek kindly. "Just go put some chapstick on those lady frog lips of yours."

"NOT FUNNY, QUINN! NOT FUNNY!"

She sauntered off, still laughing, leaving an indignant Sam behind.

Rachel walked into the choir room about a half hour before Glee club began. She wanted the chance to practice a solo she was considering performing for the club as an option for Regionals. It shouldn't be an option so much as a given, but she was trying to tread lightly with the club these days. Things went more smoothly when she was less…forceful. If she could at least attempt a show of humility then it would go a long way. At least that's what Quinn said, so she was going to give it a shot.

Her hopes of a peaceful, relaxing rehearsal were dashed when she walked in to see that omnipresent blonde sitting on the risers, fiddling with his guitar.

"What are you doing here?" she snapped, unwilling to bother with an effort of civility if Quinn wasn't there.

"What does it look like?" he shot back without even bothering to look up.

"You can't be here. Glee club doesn't begin for another thirty minutes and I need the time to practice."

"Who's stopping you?"

"You!" She exhaled loudly. "I don't feel like having an audience at the moment."

"Well, that would be a first," he chuckled, strumming the guitar testingly before going back to work on it.

That only aggravated her all the more.

"Besides you can't be doing that. The random chords will interfere with my performance."

"And I care…because?"

"Just leave!"

"Nope. You don't own this room. I've got every right to be here. You wanna sing, sing. Don't let me stop you."

Rachel stamped her foot in frustration before going over to the piano, her eyes still viciously fixated on Sam who was nonchalantly tuning his guitar as if she wasn't there at all.

Never before had the choir room felt so stifling.

"Why are you doing this?" she said finally.

"Because it'll sound crappy when I play it?"

"No. Why are you…doing this. All of this. With her?"

Sam's fingers stopped moving, but he still didn't lift his head.

It was a few long moments before he started up again. "Because she asked me to."

"You want to be with her."

"Yes," he admitted with startling frankness, "but that won't ever happen. I've accepted it."

"Have you really? Why should I believe you? Isn't this is some way of yours to try and win her back?"

He looked up at her incredulously. "Uh…kinda the worst way to go about it, don't you think?"

"Why not?" Rachel replied. "You think somehow if you spend more time with her, play along with her game, that maybe she'll open her eyes and see that it's really you she wants? Fall back into your arms?"

Sam set aside his guitar, tension visibly rippling through his body.

"And why would you think that, Rachel? Because that's what you would do? Hate to break it to you, but I'm not you. I'm not trying to get Quinn back. I know who she wants and I respect it. Even if it hurts."

He shook his head.

"Look, I get it. It sucks to be you right now. You see me and Quinn walking around putting on a big show when it's supposed to be your show. I wouldn't want to be in your place. But guess what? I don't want to be in mine either. So why don't you pull your head out of your ass for at least five seconds and realize that you're not the only one getting a bum deal here."

She was speechless. Anger roared from a place deep inside her and she was torn between hitting him and storming out. Yet…as enraged as she felt, as pained as she felt, what Sam said was getting to her on some level. Reaching a place she didn't like.

"Life doesn't always give us the best choices. We do what we can with them. We're all in this together, Rachel, whether we like it or not."

She stared at him suspiciously. "Quinn said that too," she said quietly. "About life."

He shrugged. "It's just the truth."

"You expect me to believe that you're doing this purely out the kindness of your heart? With no ulterior motive?"

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't getting some stuff out of it. One, I get to help someone I care about. Two, my rep has skyrocketed in this school since this whole thing started. I'm the one at the top now. Finn's been out of his mind about it. I'm the most popular dude in school. It's awesome."

Rachel scoffed in disgust.

"Hey, you asked," he said unapologetically. "But you know what? Even if I didn't get all those other things, I'd still be doing it."

"Because Quinn asked you to?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I care about her."

"You love her."

"That too."

"What aren't you telling me, Sam?" she insisted. "What are you two hiding? I know there's something you're not telling me."

The boy averted his gaze quickly, looking uncomfortable. "I don't know what you're talking about. And you shouldn't be asking me anyway. Quinn's your girlfriend, right?"

"So that means there is something?" she pressed.

"It means that if you're doubting her, she's the one you should be talking to, not me."

"I'm not doubting her!"

"Yeah, you are."

"What do you know?" she said grudgingly and played a few notes on the piano.

"Nothing, I guess. Just another pretty face, aren't I?"

Rachel looked up in surprise at the bitterness in his voice, but Sam had just gone back to his guitar.

They were quiet for a few moments as she processed their conversation in her head. It was the first time they had ever spoken about the situation so directly. All this time she'd been focusing most of her anger on Sam, blaming him somehow for trying to worm his way back into Quinn's affections, but now she was starting to see something else.

"I didn't…" she started to say, then took a deep breath and continued, "I haven't really thought about how this would be for you. Other than hating your guts, I haven't…thought about your feelings in this at all."

"No shock there."

"You really do love her," she murmured, as if realizing it for the first time.

"We've already been over that," he said tersely.

"And here you are, walking around with a smile on your face when all the while…"

"She wants you," he finished for her flatly.

"I'm sorry, Sam."

"Not your fault."

"And it's not yours."

"It isn't Quinn's either, so don't start!" he said so ferociously, it startled her.

"I-I wasn't going to say that."

"Sure," he scoffed disbelievingly and pulled one of the strings so tight it snapped.

Cursing profusely, he dropped his guitar on the next chair and gave up on it entirely.

She didn't want to leave it like this. Just dead air hanging between them. Sam was glowering at the floor like he wanted take a jackhammer to it and she just couldn't think of a thing to say. How was it helping them to fight like this? It certainly weighed on Quinn. She could see how pale and drawn her girlfriend became whenever the two of them bickered. There was something so helpless in her when it came to the divide between Sam and Rachel. She wanted to be angry at the girl for it. She wanted Quinn to stand up, end the mockery, the insanity, and just accept it once and for all. But the way Quinn acted these days…it was like it wasn't about shame at all. Just fear. Always fear.

And that's why she couldn't be angry. How can you be angry at someone that's truly afraid? What she was afraid of, Rachel still couldn't narrow down. Was it everything? Was it one thing?

That wasn't something that could be helped at the moment. But Sam…

Sam was something she could change.

Even if only small in part.

If the tension between them lessened, the pressure on Quinn would lessen too, and who knows what effect that would have on the girl? Maybe it would help her focus more on herself and what she was going through with her own inner turmoil if she didn't have to stress at every turn over the two most important people in her life verbally assaulting each other at every given opportunity.

"So…I, um, heard that you have a date this weekend," she ventured awkwardly.

That was polite, right? Inquiring about his personal life in a genuine, non confrontational way?

"A girl from Trinity after that coffee meeting Quinn took you on."

Sam just grunted noncommittally.

"Is she pretty?"

"I get it, Rachel!" he snapped, still heated over the broken guitar string. "The sooner I'm off on another girl, the sooner you don't have to worry about me somehow magically wooing Quinn back. As if I ever had her at all."

"I didn't mean it like that," she said tiredly. "I was just trying…small talk…you know? Baby steps?"

He looked at her warily. "You're trying to be nice?"

"Actually, yes."

Sam considered it for a minute before relenting. "Yeah…she's really pretty."

"Nice?"

"Totally. And smart too. I didn't understand half of what she was saying so I know that means she's smart."

Rachel gave him a small smile. "What's her name?"

"Anna," he replied. "She's also really into sci-fi, which is cool cause I've never dated a girl who was like that before."

"You share common interests, it sounds promising."

"I hope so." He shrugged and added, "She doesn't look anything like Quinn, you know."

"What does she look like?"

He thought about it. "Well, actually she kind of looks a little like y-"

He froze midsentence, eyes going wide.

Rachel was dumbfounded.

They both knew what he was about to say.

"Can we just forget I ever said that?"

"I think that would be best," she agreed."Our relationship cannot possibly handle anymore awkwardness at the present time."

"Good," he shifted uncomfortably.

She ran her fingers aimlessly over the keys. "Why haven't we sung together yet?"

"Huh?" he said distractedly, still worried about the close call.

"You and me. We've never performed together. You're just as good as Finn and Puck and with a little bit of training you could be miles ahead of them. We should do a duet together."

"Have you lost your mind?"

Rachel rolled her eyes and put her hands in her lap. "I think Quinn would appreciate it if we could get along better. Besides, Finn and I are…a tad estranged at the moment so I would be very open to looking for a new leading man. Why haven't we sung together before?"

"Because you always sing with Finn," he said bluntly.

"Oh." Rachel nodded with a grimace. "Right. Well! That changes now. We'll put together a fabulous performance and shock everyone with our flawless harmonies and intense musical chemistry!"

"I thought we were hating each other's guts right now," he said sardonically.

"Bygones!" she insisted. "We do it for the music! For the team! To be perfectly honest, your raw talent far exceeds Finn and he's only gotten to where he is based on my intensive voice lessons. With my help, you can easily surpass him and it will be no problem convincing Mr. Schue to give you the leads more often! Everyone wins!"

"Except Finn."

Rachel waved it off as irrelevant. "He'll be fine."

Sam grunted reluctantly. "Okay. We'll give it a shot. But you're not bossing me around. And I'm not doing this for the team or for the music or whatever."

"Then what are you doing it for?" she asked quizzically.

"Quinn."

That was something Rachel could accept.

Fifteen minutes later, the diva was pacing back and forth in front of an increasingly annoyed Sam who was glowering up at her. They'd been battling it out for what song they would perform and neither was willing to budge. Rachel wanted an epic, passionate, Broadway selection that could help them healthily express their frustrations with the current situation while Sam was against any show tunes and wanted something off the Top 50 charts. It was touch and go for a moment there when he suggested "I Need a Doctor", but fortunately the crisis was averted when he immediately took it back with profuse apologies at the look on her face that was terrifying enough to make a grown man wet himself.

"Stop pacing already!" he complained. "You're making me dizzy."

"Pacing is known to be a helpful and effective method of processing one's thoughts, which I so clearly need seeing as how we are vastly opposing in our musical tastes. I have nothing against current popular music, but you need to broaden your selections beyond Billboard's 100."

"Stop pacing!" he said, louder this time.

Yet she still went back and forth in front of him, muttering to herself, as he watched from his chair. Finally he couldn't take it anymore and lunged for her. Rachel squealed in protest as he yanked her down onto his lap and held her there.

"What are you doing?" she cried.

"Seriously, you were seconds away from making me puke. How does such a tiny person contain so much energy? I'm surprised you've made it this far in life without spontaneously combusting."

Rachel rolled her eyes, but laughed anyway. "Let me go!"

"Only if you promise to stop moving around like that, you're wearing out the floor."

"Yes, yes, I promise," she said exasperatedly.

"Pinky swear it!"

She burst out giggling. "Shut up! I will not!"

Just then, Finn and some of the other Glee members started filtering in, throwing odd glances at the wrapped up Sam and Rachel. Finn glared murderously at the other boy. Mercedes and Tina were just slightly confused. When Rachel saw the reaction they were getting from the others, she decided to stay perched contentedly on Sam's lap, just to irk them further. She looked down at him with a teasing glint in her eye that let him know what she was thinking. He was all too willing to play along and settled his arms comfortably round her waist. When Quinn walked in, followed by the rest, she didn't even bat an eyelash at their arrangement, but simply seated herself next to them. Rachel turned on Sam's lap and draped her legs across Quinn's.

"Having fun without me?" she asked.

"I thought I'd try the other blonde for a change, it is his turn after all," Rachel teased.

"Oh hell to the no!" Mercedes burst out from behind them. "I thought that threesome thing was supposed to be just a rumor!"

Sam, Quinn, and Rachel all started laughing. Mr. Schue walked in and Rachel took that as her opportunity to hop off Sam, but she ruffled his bangs affectionately, just to make the show even better, before sliding over to sit next to Quinn.

No one really paid attention to Mr. Schue's lesson because they were all too engrossed in whispering about the three people in the front row.

When Glee was over, Rachel and Quinn were some of the first to leave, but Sam dropped his bag and had to stay behind to pick up some of the stuff that had fallen out.

Out of nowhere, the towering Finn Hudson was suddenly inches away from his nose.

"Just what the fuck is going on here?" he growled. "What are you doing with them?"

"The hell, dude?" Sam stepped back incredulously, still gathering his things. "What business is it of yours?"

"You're messing around with those girls. It's not cool!"

"This jealousy thing is getting old, man," he sighed. "You haven't been with Quinn in forever. And didn't you dump Rachel?"

"Really, back off," Puck interjected, as he walked towards them. He could see the fight coming a mile away. "You're just pissed cause he's getting it on full saddle with your two ex-hotties while you barely touched second."

In a flash, Finn lunged for Sam, but Puck got in between them first and shoved him back hard, keeping himself between the two guys facing off.

"Don't do it, dude," he said warningly.

"What is your freaking problem?" Sam shouted from behind Puck, holding his hands out in disbelief.

"Sweet Jesus!" Mercedes exclaimed with an eye roll. They were the only four left in the choir room. "Sam, just please tell Finn you are not sleeping with Rachel and Quinn so we can all come back to earth."

"I'd just like to know why Finn seems to be so concerned with my sex life," he sneered. "Something to tell the people, Hudson?"

"YOU ARE NOT HAVING SEX WITH RACHEL!" he roared.

"And Quinn," Puck added. "At the same time."

Mercedes threw him an 'are you freaking kidding me?' look.

"So what if I was? What's it to you? She's not your girlfriend anymore, and in case you forgot, Quinn's mine. Time to face facts. So back the hell off."

Sam threw his bag over his shoulder and walked out in the opposite direction. Finn stood there fuming for a few seconds before the dam broke. He violently wrestled away from Puck's hold and went tearing out after the other boy.

"This is not going to be good," Mercedes muttered and she went running out the door with Puck while sending out a mass text to all the Glee members who had just left.

Sam was walking down the empty hallway unawares when Finn grabbed him from behind in a rage and threw him hard against the lockers, his fist connecting with the blonde's jaw. Ignoring the pain, Sam bent down and threw his entire body weight into his shoulder to knock Finn off balance and managed to slam him into the lockers on the opposite side of the hall.

Finn grunted as Sam punched him in the stomach and then he got an elbow smashed his into his nose. Swearing and bleeding, Finn tried to wrestle away and hit Sam again, but Puck jumped in then to tear Sam off, throwing him to the ground harmlessly.

In the madness, Finn went after Puck, but he just shoved the larger boy back again, yelling at him to calm down, but he was hearing nothing. Just absolutely out of control. Puck had to duck a swing at his head.

"YO! GET IT TOGETHER, DUDE! WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO?" he shouted as he fended Finn off.

The others were coming back now, Rachel and Quinn among them, and they all stared in shock at the brawl happening. While Puck and Finn were throwing punches at each other, Mike and Mr. Schue came running, having heard the commotion, and they were able to restrain Finn who still struggled against them, roaring at Sam for being a scumbag and a liar. Mr. Schue grabbed him by the collar and yanked hard, telling him to cool it.

Sam and Puck were pissed, but restrained, as they watched Finn be wrestled back and ultimately dragged off to the Principal Figgins's office.

Cautiously, Quinn and Rachel stepped up to the other two boys. Rachel reached out instinctively to touch Sam's rapidly bruising eye and insisted on taking him to get an ice pack from the nurse's office. He could only nod tersely, still breathing hard, high on adrenaline from the fight, and let her lead him away from the group.

Furiously, Quinn turned to Puck and demanded to know just what the hell happened. It took him a few minutes of swearing up and down, then kicking a locker, before he could adequately give her the details. Mercedes was already busy filling in the rest of the club. After thanking him for helping out, which he said was nothing because Finn was being a dick, Quinn left the others to go find Rachel and Sam.

She stepped into the nurse's office, looking round, but didn't see anyone. When she went to the back and pushed open the curtains, there was Rachel perched on Sam's lap again, this time holding an ice pack to his head.

"Is this going to become a habit for you two? Cause I'm starting to get a little annoyed," she said weakly as she walked in, arms folded across her chest.

"There are no other chairs, Quinn," Rachel retorted testily. "And you have got a lot of nerve to be jealous."

"I'm not jealous!" she cried. "Just…whatever, forget it."

She started pacing in front of them which made Sam groan and Rachel quickly stuck out her leg to stop her girlfriend from the dizzying maneuver. Quinn spun around heatedly to look at Sam.

"Puck said Finn provoked you."

"Yeah," he grumbled. "He's just really not cool with the possibility that I'm sleeping with Rachel too."

"Did you tell him we were?" the brunette snapped in annoyance.

"No!" he shot back firmly and then winced because it hurt his bruising eye. "I didn't deny it either. That's what we said. Just let them think whatever. If we start acting like we care too much, it'll only get worse. So I didn't confirm nor deny. Isn't that what we said?"

The two girls nodded reluctantly and Rachel sighed, gingerly holding the ice pack to his face. Quinn was still standing there in front of them, fuming over what had gone down just because that idiot Finn Hudson couldn't have enough brain cells to see the ludicrousness of what he was taking for truth.

Sam saw what she was doing and motioned for her to take his other leg so she could sit as well. Quinn heaved a sigh and took him up on the offer, settling down against him with Rachel on the other side.

The two girls exchanged a knowing look and Quinn lifted Rachel's hand away enough so that she could see the extent of his injury and frowned deeply. It was already turning purple. Rachel put it back on as Quinn leaned her head against Sam's.

"Thank you," she said softly.

"Yes," Rachel added genuinely, surprising Quinn, "Thank you. That was…you've done so much already. You don't deserve to have to deal with this."

"She's right," Quinn said mournfully. "Sam, I-I would understand if this has gotten to be too much for you. It's not what you signed up for. I-If you can't-"

The brunette watched the two of them with bated breath, waiting…hoping…praying that this would be it, but Sam only shrugged and glanced up at her.

"I signed up for everything, Quinn. Remember? Anything you need."

She breathed a sigh of relief and kissed his cheek. Rachel did her best not to let her disappointment show, but some of it came through anyway.

"I gotta say though, you're both idiots for dating that guy. What did you ever see in him?"

Rachel and Quinn looked at each other for a long moment as they genuinely tried to figure that out.

What had they seen in Finn?

Finn had always been somewhat kind to Rachel when they were younger. She had always appreciated that. Quinn saw him as the quarterback, the popular guy, and the ideal boyfriend because of how easily manipulated he was. But was that really all it was? Hadn't it started the moment she saw Rachel show signs of interest in him? Rachel was wondering the same thing. Hadn't her obsession with Finn begun the moment he started dating Quinn?

Their eyes widened simultaneously.

"I saw you," they said in unison.

Sam looked between them like they had both just sprouted ten heads.

Still trying to process the sheer revelation of the moment, they happened to glance down and see his bewildered expression.

"We were just idiots," Quinn explained simply.

"Really…really big ones," Rachel agreed.

"So…" Sam said with a heavy exhale and wrapped his arms around both their waists. "This wouldn't happen to help my chances to make good on that threesome rumor, would it?"

Rachel pushed the ice pack a little too hard in response as Quinn pinched his side and he yelped.

"Ow! Ow! Okay! Geez, can't blame a dude for trying."

Things changed for the trio after that. Rachel and Sam grew closer, no longer at each other's throats (to Quinn's immense relief). They actually ended up performing two different songs in Glee as a compromise. One was a Broadway selection and the other was something more contemporary (but was not "I Need a Doctor"). As it turned out, they sounded really…really good together.

It had taken some extensive persuasion on Quinn's part, which included a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos, to convince Sam to put up with Rachel's maniacal 'teaching' methods, but in the end she'd managed to get him to see that despite her girlfriend's over the top methods and overwhelming intensity, she knew what she was doing, and he could really benefit from it (if he managed to survive their encounters, of course). It turned out well because in the short time that Rachel worked with him, Sam had easily surpassed Finn's range and capability, just as she said he would.

Rachel found herself actually happier after all this, begrudging Sam's presence less in her life, not to mention that she was over the moon knowing that she had found herself a new leading man other than Finn. She didn't have to do much pushing with Mr. Schue to give Sam more leads as he saw the same thing she did. Thankfully, she could say for once that the man was not trying to ruin her life.

Finn was pissed as all get out, but Rachel simply passed it off as it was good for others to get an opportunity to shine as well. Besides, regarding their previous history, singing with him tended to be awkward now and that always translated into performances, which they simply could not afford.

It was actually the truth, though not in entirety.

She also made him swear never to attack Sam like that again. It wasn't good sportsmanship and he really had no claim on what she did or didn't do seeing as how they were no longer an item. If he continued to behave the way he was, she would rescind her offer of friendship. That was enough to get him to back off for the time being.

When Rachel came up with the idea of writing original songs for Regionals, she had Quinn and Sam's full support. When the vote came, both their hands were firmly in the air and they stared daggers at the rest of the club just daring them to try and turn the diva down. Rachel could only feel a warm joy to know that she had such strong support behind her now. She'd never had that before outside of her fathers. When Finn saw Sam supporting Rachel's idea so repletely, he jumped in as well, insisting that it would be awesome for them to do and a surefire way to win. Every single member of the Glee club looked like they were seconds away from smacking him across the face.

Even Mr. Schuester looked a little exasperated.

Chapter Text

"I hate your ballet class."

"That's disappointing because I happen to love it."

"It just means another night without you. I don't like it."

"I thought you hated it."

"You need to blow it off. We could go bowling!"

"You detest bowling."

"And that's how much I want to be with you."

"I'm sure we would be able to find a more pleasing method of entertainment for the two of us rather than bowling."

"Was that dirty?"

"No."

"It should have been."

"Must you always be so gutter-brained?"

"When it comes to you…there are days when it's all I think about."

"Quinn..."

"So you'll blow it off?"

"No! I cannot neglect my training! What are all my years of hard work for if I start slacking off now?"

"One night won't cancel out your years of dance experience, Berry."

"One night will turn into two nights, then a month. Then I'll never go again. I'll like being with you too much."

"So I'm supposed to feel guilty for that?"

"You're supposed to support me."

"Ohhhh, that. Fine, I support you."

"Thank you. Now what will you be doing in the interim tonight as I am unfortunately unavailable?"

"Sam's babysitting his little brother and sister tonight. I'll probably go hang out with them. He said Stacy's been asking for me."

"Oh."

"It's just babysitting, Rachel. No pretending, no façade, just Sam as my actual, honest to goodness friend, no fake boyfriend stuff."

"Okay."

"Next time we do this, you should come too. I want you to meet them. They're so adorable, Rach. Sam's brother is like a little carbon copy of him. He tries all the dumb impressions too, but he does them better! Though it's not saying much."

"Fine."

"Would you rather me not go tonight?"

"Why would you say that?"

"Because you just went from normal/happy!Rachel to sullen/depressed!Rachel in a span of three seconds. Just tell me."

"Would my answer make a difference?"

"Yes. If you don't want me go there tonight – I won't. I understand. I just thought it would be something to distract me from not being with you. And I do love those kids."

"You really wouldn't go?"

"Of course."

"I don't want you to go."

"Okay, I won't."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"Well, now you have to go."

"What?"

"You adore his siblings. You gush over them all the time, Stacy especially. Go. Have a good time."

"So that was a test?"

"It seems so. I didn't truly realize it until after you agreed…"

"I'm going to miss you."

"I'll miss you too."

"Next time, we'll all babysit together! You'll love them! Stevie gives the biggest hugs and Stacy even loves to si… On second thought, I take it back. You can't meet them."

"W-what? Why?"

"Well…it's just… Baby, Stacy's a little girl who loves to sing and dance in crazy little circles, but I'm afraid if you meet her, she'll have been kidnapped and shipped off to vocal training boot camp before the Evanses even come home."

"QUINN FABRAY!"

"Plus, you'll probably terrify them somehow. You don't exactly have the best bedside manner with kids."

"I'll have you know, I am absolutely adored by children!"

"Then why have I seen them running away from you, screaming for their parents?"

"That was ONE time! And he could have severely damaged my nose with that ball!"

"He was five, Rach."

"A perfectly reasonable age to have an adult conversation about the dangers of such behavior."

"You're proving my point for me."

"Now you don't want me to meet them?"

"I want you to hug Stevie and duct tape your mouth if Stacy offers to sing for you."

"Isn't that slightly extreme?"

"It's the only way I can see it working."

"We can discuss this at a later time. I have to go to my class now and dance out my frustrations with my very unsupportive and insulting girlfriend!"

"Hey! I'm behind you every step of the way…and checking out your hot ass while I'm at it."

"You must stop channeling Puck."

"I'm just expressing my desire to have my hands on your ass."

"Quinn!"

"Ditching me for dancing…this is so not approved."

"I'll call you later. Say 'hi' to Sam and the little ones for me. Have a good time. I love you."

"It would be better with you."

"Even though I'd have my mouth duct taped shut?"

"Yes, even then. I'd just find more creative ways to kiss you."

She heard Rachel's embarrassed giggling with pride as they hung up.

With a sigh, the brunette dropped the phone into her bag and got into the car. She was still smiling from their conversation, but it was tinged with sadness now that she no longer had Quinn there to keep the darker thoughts from invading.

She never said it. Never could say the words. Rachel had come out with it over two months ago and still said it repeatedly, giving Quinn every opportunity to return the sentiment. But she didn't. Quinn never said "I love you" back.

Oh, she'd said and done just about everything else, so that gave Rachel some encouragement as to the depth of her feelings that hopefully matched her own, but it didn't mean she didn't die a little inside every time she never heard those three little words returned. Quinn would say things like how beautiful she was, how much she wanted her, how much she needed her, how she wanted them together all the time, how she wanted a future with her, but never did she say actual words of love.

Of course, when Rachel had been the first to say it, she had no misguided notions that Quinn would burst out proclaiming it in return. It hadn't been about wanting to hear them back. It was about needing Quinn to know where she stood. But now that time was passing by, more and more of it ever still, it was starting to weigh on her. If Quinn didn't really love her, and how could she if she couldn't even bring herself to say the words, then what were they doing? Why was this torment that was both so wonderful and so heartrending at the same time still going on? Why didn't they just put an end to it and move on? But Quinn seemed to have no inclination towards that.

"Why" was a question Rachel found on the tip of her tongue every day now.

Just…why?

Quinn did go over to Sam's for a little while, but only to bring Stacy some of her old playthings and let Stevie squeeze her until she pretended she couldn't breathe anymore.

"Gonna surprise her?" Sam said as he led her back to the door a little later.

"We spend too much time apart."

"You're with her almost every night," he said amusedly. "Including weekends."

"It's not enough."

"Even after you discovered a way to sneak in through the back door after her Dads have gone to bed?"

"Shhhh," she said laughingly, glancing over at the kids sprawled out on the couch, too involved in their TV show to be paying attention to them.

Sam rolled his eyes. "As if they know what we're talking about."

"Kids pick up on more than we give them credit for."

"Now you're worried about them finding out? Quinn, come on…"

She glared at him. "Not that they'll know about Rachel! Only the nature of what we're discussing."

"And what nature is that?" he teased.

"I don't kiss and tell, Sam Evans."

"You do more than kiss and then don't tell."

"GOODNIGHT!"

"Bye, Quinn!" came an eager chorus from the two on the couch who waved vigorously as she walked out, ignoring the laughing Sam.

It was her turn, and with her partner, Lindsay, they swirled out onto the floor in perfect unison, going through each dip, sweep, turn, with precision and grace that came from both their years of hard work. Lindsay wasn't as dedicated as Rachel, but she had the passion and a natural ability so they had grown up through the years taking these classes together. They'd never been friends outside of the dance circle, each of them traveling a half hour from opposite directions to get to the studio, but they were definitely friends in it. The 'dance' relationship was going on six years now.

Lindsay was a year older, about to graduate and head off to Ohio State. She wasn't the kind of pretty that would stop you dead on the street, but she was definitely the kind of pretty that grew more apparent the longer you looked at her. She was half-Jewish, a little taller than Quinn, with long, wavy dark hair that she kept in a tight bun until the very second class was over and she would release it with great vigor as though it had been cooped up for years rather than the two hours.

Rachel always envied how her hair would effortlessly shake down from its ties, a brilliant, glossy sheen, and somehow end up in the perfectly mussed-but-not-mussed way as though she'd just stepped out of the salon. Lindsay always joked that if Rachel had the voice to hold over her head, then she could at least have the hair to hold over hers. It was only fair.

Sweating from the workout, but pleased with how it had gone, Rachel guzzled down some of her water as she walked over to Lindsay who was pulling the bun out. There went the shining, wavy, glorious, hair. She tried not to let the envy wash over as usual, but it was fruitless.

You can sing. You can sing. You can sing that hair into a frizzy split ended disaster!

Lindsay chuckled as she noticed Rachel's glowering.

"Still with that?"

"It's not right for one human being to possess perfection like that when the rest are forced to endure mediocrity."

"I could say the same for you," she retorted easily.

Rachel only smiled.

"So how's that friend of yours?"

"Hm?" she asked distractedly from the floor as she changed into her regular shoes.

Lindsay lifted a long, taught, leg onto the bar and stretched leisurely. "Quinn's her name, right? Your friend, how is she?"

Rachel looked up at her curiously. "Why do you always say 'friend' like that?"

The other girl laughed and switched to the other leg. "You don't seriously think you're hiding anything?"

Rachel feigned ignorance and stood up. "I don't know what you mean," she replied, shrugging into her jacket.

Lindsay put both feet on the floor again and leaned in towards her with a mischievous grin. "Come on, Broadway…who do you think you're fooling? The way you talk about her…hell, I thought having to put up with you babbling about that Finn guy was bad!"

Rachel looked up at her for a long moment before finally relenting and covered her face in embarrassment.

"Is it that bad?"

"Worse. But don't worry." She bumped her shoulder affectionately. "I'll still steal you away someday."

"You've been saying that since the day we met," Rachel said laughingly.

"Bound to be true eventually!"

"In your dreams!"

"Nu-uh, in yours!"

"Not anymore, Lindsay," Rachel said softly with her sincerity ringing true. "Maybe once…but definitely not anymore."

"That in love?"

"Like I never knew possible."

Lindsay chuckled gently at the dreamy look on the girl's face.

"She good enough for you?"

"She's…everything."

"I better meet her someday."

"I'll make sure it happens," she affirmed with a nod and added, "but you cannot flirt!"

"What?" she cried, as though incredibly offended. "I do not FLIRT!"

"It should be your middle name," she said dryly.

"I'm merely friendly. You can't fault me for friendliness! We could use more of it in the world!"

Rachel rolled her eyes in amusement. "Well, be sure to be less friendly should you two meet. Quinn tends to be the jealous type. She wouldn't understand this intriguing facet to your personality."

"Understand what? My undying passion for you? Come on, Rachel!" She curled her arm around her waist. "I got a backseat with your name on it."

"Such a tease!" She laughed and pushed her away lightly, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Don't you have a boyfriend? What was his name? It started with a 'J', I'm sure..."

"So last year's color," she waved flippantly. "Looking for a girl this time round."

"Not this girl!"

"Deny it all you want, darling, but you're totally hot for me."

"I believe it's the other way round, darling," she shot back with a giggle and turned to leave, only to find herself standing in front of a stony faced blonde.

"Quinn!" she cried in surprise.

Lindsay looked up sharply at the name and her eyes widened, a smirk spreading across her face.

"Ooooh, Broadway…you have got to be kidding me!" she said in absolute approval, looking the blonde over from head to toe.

"W-what are you doing here?" Rachel stammered, torn between shock and delight.

Quinn donned one of the fakest smiles Rachel had ever seen her possess and tilted her head. "I wanted to surprise you," she said in a sickly sweet tone. "I never get to see you dance here."

"O-oh," she replied, confused by the coldness she was encountering right now. Whatever was coming out of Quinn's mouth most certainly did not match up with the rest of her. "That was-"

"Who's your friend?" she interrupted, turning to Lindsay with interest, still in that too sweet tone that made Rachel's stomach churn nervously. It reminded her of the old days, the not-so-good days, when Quinn was…not her Quinn.

"Lindsay," she said awkwardly, "This is Quinn, the one I was telling you about. Quinn, Lindsay and I have been taking classes together for years now. She's a fantastic dancer."

With her eyes she pleaded with the other girl not to make things anything more uncomfortable, but Lindsay didn't seem to pick up on it…or care. She stepped forward boldly and held her hand out, which Quinn shook politely.

"It's lovely to meet you, Lindsay. I'm sorry I don't seem to recall Rachel ever mentioning you though."

The other girl only shrugged, not taking any offense. "That's alright, we do enough here to last us through the week." She winked at Rachel teasingly and the girl felt her stomach plummet.

No. No. No. Be good! Be good!

Quinn's eyes narrowed dangerously for a split second before it went back into the wide eyed saccharine innocence she portrayed before. Rachel knew what was going to happen.

"I saw you earlier through the window," the blonde said with a smile that could kill, "you are very good. I mean, if you didn't have that issue with your thighs and the slight skin problem, why you could be a professional! In fact, I could recommend some great remedies to help you out if ever you feel the need to put that little extra effort in…"

"Well…" Lindsay lifted her eyebrows in amusement and scoffed, chuckling as she picked up her bag. "At least you did warn me, Rachel."

"Quinn, what are y-!"

But the blonde wasn't about to let it end there.

"I think I've seen you around before. Yes! I knew you looked familiar! It was your mother that had an affair with Pastor Bruce Stevenson, didn't she? Tsk. Such a terrible situation for all involved. Didn't your Daddy kick her out on the street for all the neighbors to see? Word does travel in circles such as ours."

The more she spoke, the paler Lindsay became. It was like the life was being drained right out of her. This was not the loud mouthed, prideful, vivacious girl Rachel knew.

"Quinn, stop it!" Rachel insisted, horrified. "What is the matter with you?"

But she ignored her.

"So messy. I'm glad to see you've overcome such terrible adversity, but I'm sure it's the stress from your home life that causes those unsightly breakouts. Do be sure to give me a call sometime about it. I'd love to help you out."

"Yeah," Lindsay mumbled finally. "It's great of you to offer. I gotta get going. Goodnight, Rachel."

"G-goodnight," she said helplessly. "I-I'll see you next week."

The brunette just walked away without another word. Rachel saw her eyes misting over as she turned away.

"Wonderful meeting you!" Quinn called out, grinning at the other girl's defeated departure, seemingly victorious in whatever competition she had made up.

As far as Rachel was concerned, Quinn had just come in dead last.

Quinn had found the studio easily enough. There wasn't anyone else there except for the two people lagging behind from the previous class. There was a one way window in the waiting area, allowing people to see out onto the dance floor while all that the dancers saw was a mirror on the other side. Quinn immediately found her girlfriend in the group, they were in the middle of a routine, and she smiled. Seeing Rachel always brought a smile to her face these days. Hell, even just thinking about her did that.

She settled herself into one of the chairs provided and sat as close as she could to the window to watch the dancers perform. The instructor's voice was faint but clear through the thin walls. She could hear the music as well.

Rachel was incredible. She watched in awe as the brunette glided across the floor with such grace and precision, it was unlike any of the dancing they ever tried in Glee. Picturing Finn trying to do this had her snickering to herself. Rachel spun out onto the floor with another girl and they moved together in perfect synchrony. Quinn found herself unconsciously leaning against the glass as she watched with rapture at her beautiful girlfriend dance. Rachel was focused, but not frowning, a smooth expression of concentration on her face as she let her body move, sometimes quick, sometimes achingly slow. Quinn found herself getting turned on. She had no idea Rachel was so flexible…

It seemed all too soon that the class was over and Quinn decided to wait outside the studio door to surprise her when she walked out. Maybe she'd want to get a bite to eat or something before going back home, anything to avoid the Berrys. Maybe she could convince Rachel to stay out long enough so that her Dads would be asleep before they came back and she wouldn't have to worry about running into them.

Those thoughts were immediately put on hold because as she stood near the door, still in front of the one-way window, she saw Rachel talking to one of the girls she had been dancing with before. They looked like they knew each other well. Everyone else was leaving, passing Quinn by, but the girls were lingering behind, chatting and smiling at each other.

Then the other girl put her arm around Rachel's waist and after that everything went blank.

Not just blank. Red.

It wasn't until she ran out into the parking lot after Rachel, desperately pleading, that her senses returned and she realized what she'd done.

"I have never been so ashamed in my life. You…you…how could you do that to her?" Rachel nearly screamed as she tore across the parking lot. "She's my friend, Quinn, and you practically crushed her to pieces with that thing about her family! How did you even… I can't even bear to look at you, I am disgusted."

"She was hitting on you!" she retorted huffily, a few paces behind the fast moving girl.

"That's just how she is with everyone! If you had taken at least three seconds to introduce yourself properly she would have started flirting with you too! For goodness sake, she once told my Dad that he should be wearing Juicy Couture with the kind of bottom he has! Although it was in a slightly cruder way, but my father was quite pleased with the compliment. You lost control!"

"She shouldn't have been touching you!"

"What does it matter?" she looked back at her irately. "Do you trust me so little, Quinn?"

"I-I do trust you," she stammered unconvincingly.

"How dare you behave like this! After all that I have put up with – your ridiculous charade with Sam – and you have the nerve to attack my friend because you were jealous? So I can't have a harmless flirty exchange with a friend I've known for years, but you can kiss a boy you have genuine feelings for right in front of me? I cannot fully express the depth of my desire to slap you right now!"

"I'm sorry, Rachel! I am!" Quinn exclaimed. "But how was I supposed to know it didn't mean anything? She was all over you and you were…" she trailed off uneasily. "You acted like you liked it."

Rachel barely even heard her and tore open the door to her car, throwing her bag in none too lightly.

"Do you know what the worst part about this is?" she snapped, turning back to her angrily. "I love you, but right now, I can't even bring myself to like you. You made me not like you. You made me think… God, Quinn! Who was that? She was supposed to be gone! That girl in there, with that voice, that's Quinn Fabray of two years ago, the one who hated me. The one who did anything she could to hurt me. I thought you had changed. I could have sworn…" Her voice trembled precariously before she composed herself and continued with the same intensity. "But tonight you proved me wrong. That girl still exists. She's never going away, is she? How…how can I love that girl?"

"Rachel…" she gasped, her vision swimming with tears.

"Don't cry!" she demanded furiously. "Don't you dare cry! You don't deserve to cry right now! I will not feel sorry for you! You were WRONG, Quinn."

"I know I was," she said shamefully. "I wasn't…myself. I lost it, okay? I'm human and I lost it. I shouldn't have said those things, but she was all over my girlfriend and I didn't like it! Don't I at least get a little bit of a break for that?"

"No!" she cried in utter disbelief. "You should have trusted me! You should have known it wasn't what it looked like! You should have walked up there and been your wonderful, charming self, and introduced yourself as my girlfriend. That's what you should have done!"

"That's all I want to do!"

"Then why don't you?"

"I'm scared," she admitted forlornly. "All the time. About everything. I don't… I am so tired of being afraid."

"Enough to be strong?"

Quinn looked at her warily and it was a few beats before she slowly answered, "There are different kinds of strength."

"So that's a no," she retorted bitterly.

"I wish you could understand..."

"Don't start that again!" she said sharply. "I'm so sick of that excuse. You were awful tonight."

"I know."

"You're going to apologize to Lindsay when you come with me to my class next week and you will explain precisely what the reason was behind you acting so shamefully."

"Rachel..." she started fearfully, but the brunette wasn't finished.

"And then you are going to tell her about what happened to your parents and how you can relate to everything she is going through right now and how sorry you are for using that as a weapon against her in your fit of insecurity."

"I don't know if I can-"

"She's not from Lima, Quinn," Rachel said firmly. "She doesn't know anyone there. You're going to admit to her what we are. No backing out. No excuses. You say the only reason why we haven't come out yet is because of your parents. Time to prove it. I deserve this. And so does Lindsay."

Quinn took a deep breath before finally giving her a tentative nod.

"You'll pick me up at six o'clock sharp."

"Okay."

"I think we're finished for tonight," she said tersely and started to get into the car.

"Rachel?"

She paused and looked at her. Quinn hesitated for a moment, glancing at the pavement before she made up her mind and stepped forward to close the distance between them. Rachel bristled to have her so close, but didn't move away either.

"I'm sorry I was that Quinn tonight," she whispered, looking down into her eyes. "I didn't want to be. I'm sorry I made you think…that I was still that person…" She choked back tears. "I thought I was losing you, okay? I looked at you with her and I thought… God, Rach, I always feel like I'm losing you or going to lose you or will lose you. It scares me more than anything because I know I don't deserve you and I can't help but feel like one day you're going to wake up and realize it too. I'm selfish. I don't want you to ever know that I'm not good enough."

It was like someone had thrust a hand inside Rachel's chest and squeezed hard. It hurt and she struggled to breathe. A part of her wanted to cry, but the other part was too angry to allow it. Yet hearing Quinn this way was a solid smack across the face. How could she forget just how insecure this seemingly flawless girl before her was? She knew better by now. Quinn Fabray always maintained a fearsome façade of power, beauty, and perfection. Even after getting to know her more, knowing that wasn't the reality at all, sometimes she still forgot. Quinn was that good at pretending to be something she wasn't. After all…she'd had a lifetime of practice. It was then that Rachel realized she was going to have to try harder not to be fooled by it. The less she was fooled, the less it worked, the less Quinn would be able to hold on to it. Slowly, but surely, Quinn Fabray would one day be the same person on the outside as she was inside. Rachel would be there for all of it.

"Baby…" she murmured sadly and took Quinn's hand which the other girl clutched fiercely, "we may be having a fight right now, it happens, but you're not going to lose me. What more do I have to do to make you believe that? I love you, Quinn. We belong together. You deserve not only me, but so much more from this world."

"No," she shook her head resolutely, "I don't deserve you. Maybe someday. Not now though. But if you can wait…like you said…then I'll make sure it happens. T-that you get all you should from me."

She wanted to dispute that, but Quinn wouldn't let her.

"I-I can't see you want anyone else, Rachel," she said despairingly. "It'll destroy me. Please tell me you'll forgive me for tonight? I'll get better at this. I won't... I'll try not to be that way. I really will. Forgive me?"

"Of course I will," she sighed, but saw the intense look of relief on Quinn's face and quickly followed it up with, "but that doesn't mean you get out of having to apologize and tell Lindsay everything!"

"Understood."

"I suppose…" she tried tentatively, "we could pick up some supper and go back to my place to do our homework? Friday night 'get-it-out-of-the-way'?"

Quinn looked so overblown with joy, Rachel knew she was doing everything she could not to kiss her right then. She almost didn't want Quinn to be happy, but that feeling didn't quite take root.

"I have my backpack in the car," she said with forced lightness, still keeping herself from looking too eager.

"Okay," she replied, trying not to laugh at the blonde's efforts to contain herself. "Then perhaps we can discuss what happened a little more."

Quinn nodded dutifully then she turned her head and scoffed.

"What?" Rachel frowned.

"It's just…all I wanted was to surprise you tonight," she grumbled. "To see you dance. It was supposed to be a good thing and I managed to mess up something as simple as that."

"Well…you had the surprise part down," she tried to joke, but it fell flat.

"I feel like I can't ever get anything right with you, Rach."

The brunette chuckled ruefully, much to Quinn's disbelief, and at the look on her face she held her hands up in defense to explain.

"I think the same thing with you," she said with a mirthless smile. "From the moment we started all this, it's like no matter what I do, I can't get it right."

"Does that mean something?" she whispered fearfully. "Something bad about us?"

"Is that what you think?"

"I don't know what to think!"

"Quinn…maybe we just need to stop worrying so much about being right as we do about just being together. We can do this." Her eyes suddenly lit up and she grabbed Quinn's shoulders, pulling her in for a brief, but fierce hug. Quinn stared at her wide eyed when she was released, not at all prepared for this sudden turn. Rachel didn't care about her confusion as she squealed, bursting with joy. "I think we might have just come up with our original song for Regionals!"

"Huh?"

"No time to explain!" Rachel said exuberantly. "The sooner we get back, the faster we can write it! Follow me home?"

"I told you," Quinn smiled at her bouncing girlfriend, "I'll follow you anywhere."

It was past midnight when Quinn crept as quietly as she could down the stairs. They hadn't even stopped for dinner, Rachel was on a mission. She practically dragged Quinn into the house at a full run, ransacked her desk for a pad and pen and threw them both down on the bed to write the song she'd already half created in her head. Quinn came up with a few lines here and there and they talked the entire thing through. It was done within two hours. Rachel was so proud, giddy, and utterly exhausted that she passed out on Quinn's shoulder as soon as they put the finishing touches on it.

Rather proud and pleased herself with what they had come up with, Quinn tucked her girlfriend into bed and pried the pen out of her hand with hardly a stir from the brunette. She made sure to carefully place the finished work directly on top of Rachel's desk in plain view so that she wouldn't panic about where it was when she woke in the morning. Kissing her cheek gently, she took a moment to smile at how adorable Rachel looked curled up to a pillow that used to be Quinn's shoulder, before turning off the lights and shutting the door behind her.

She'd behaved so stupidly that night, but still Rachel forgave her, and she felt ashamed for it. Rachel shouldn't have to forgive her for things now. The past was the past, she could only hope to make up for it, but what happened now was entirely in her hands and she was screwing it up in every way possible. She didn't want Rachel to have to forgive her. She wanted to make her happy…happy and proud…like the way she was writing that song tonight.

If they could just get through this year…then Quinn would give her everything she ever asked for and more if possible. The longer she was with Rachel, the more determined she was for her future, their future. Nothing was going to get in the way of that. She would do whatever it took to make it happen.

"OH, MISS FABRAY!"

FUCK.

She'd been so close, almost halfway to the front door when that deep voice echoed behind her from the den. Damning herself for getting caught, she turned back bravely with an unconscious straightening of her shoulders and entered the room where Leroy was on the couch watching TV. He had his feet propped up on the coffee table, but when Quinn came in he reached for the remote next to him, turned off the indistinctly chattering TV, and looked up at her with a plain expression.

"Skulking out of my house is hardly doing wonders for your reputation here."

Bristling, Quinn couldn't help herself. Her instincts for self preservation roared into full gear whether warranted or not.

"Better than facing the looks of disdain you and your husband seem to have specially reserved for me."

He stood up slowly, crossing his arms with feigned casualness. "I suppose it must come as a bit of a shock for you, to feel unaccepted, unwanted. Not the way your life usually goes, is it?"

It took every ounce of willpower she had not to burst out laughing at the absurdity of it. It would only make things more awkward if she did.

"I guess that's the way it must look," she replied carefully.

"You tormented my baby girl for years."

"I did."

"And we're supposed to believe you've suddenly changed? All better now? No more slushies? No more crude comments about her looks? The messages on MySpace? The drawings on the bathroom wall?"

Quinn could feel her throat closing in and shut her eyes tightly, trying to block out the memories.

God, she'd been so cruel…

How could Rachel forgive her, let alone love her? But she did…somehow, for some reason. And that was enough to make her feel strong enough to take on the large man before her.

"I'm not a different person, Mr. Berry," she said frankly, "But yeah…I've changed."

"And just what does that mean exactly?"

"Dad, no," Rachel's voice interrupted them and the girl stormed into the room looking angrier than Quinn thought she'd ever seen her be before. Her hair was mussed from sleep, but there was no trace of sleep in those fiery eyes.

"We're simply having a discussion, Rachel," he said calmly. "That's all."

"A discussion!" she all but shrieked. "She's my friend and you're treating her like…this has to stop! You…Daddy…enough is enough. Quinn isn't what you think she is. You have no idea what her life is like. If you did, you would be ashamed of the way you're acting. You should be ashamed!"

"Rach, it's okay…"

"No! It's not okay!" she said heatedly. "I won't let him-"

"Let me talk, okay? Just…shh."

Rachel was still seething, but she quieted herself.

Leroy watched their interaction with a most curious look on his face.

"Despite what you may think, Mr. Berry, I do know how it feels to be unwanted. I'm just good at making it appear otherwise. I got pregnant last year. My father kicked me out. My mother stood by and watched. I was homeless for months, going from friend's house to friend's house, feeling more like a burden than a person ever wants to feel. But I didn't have a choice."

Leroy's arms fell from its defensive posture to hanging loosely at his side as he listened to her with something akin to regret washing over him.

"And to know what it is to be unaccepted? Well, I'm sorry to say that your home is just another place on a very long list for me. So, yes, I would rather skulk out of here and avoid confrontation for your daughter's sake. You don't like me. I get it, fair enough. I made a lot of mistakes in the past, but Rachel's my friend and if she wants me here, then I'll be here. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I have some skulking to do."

She gave the still fuming Rachel a reassuring smile and was almost out of the room before he called out again, but this time there was none of the caginess in his voice that she'd grown so used to hearing him speak to her with.

"Quinn?"

She turned back reluctantly, not wanting any more of this tonight…or ever again.

"Stay a while?" He held his hands up with a light shrug. "I think there's some milk and fresh baked cookies calling our name."

Quinn stared at him with wide eyes. She had no idea what to make of this. To go from having him seconds away from ripping into her as she probably deserved, to offering her dessert like it was nothing at all? Like she wasn't completely despised? Like…he was giving her a chance?

"I-I can't, I have to-"

"Hiram won't be home. It'll just be the three of us. No inquisition, no judgment, just a friendly snack. Let's try to fix this, okay?" he said kindly. "Please?"

Quinn glanced warily at Rachel who had such a desperate look of pleading on her face that she couldn't bring herself to say no. So she sighed and nodded to Leroy.

Quinn left the Berry House feeling somewhat bewildered. It was the first time in…well, ever, that she had walked out through that door without feeling overwhelmed with shame or embarrassment or guilt. She just felt…okay.

Leroy had been true to his word, no inquisition. They all sat down, had some cookies, milk (soy milk for Rachel), and they just talked. It wasn't about the past or about Quinn and Rachel's newfound friendship. It was about classes, Glee club, college considerations, favorite TV shows, movies, and didn't Finn bear a striking resemblance to the monster in Frankenstein? That, of course, eagerly prompted Quinn to reveal one of Santana's nicknames for him, which had them all in stitches.

It was easier. Leroy was more open and accepting of her. He didn't have that guardedness she'd grown so accustomed to. It felt like she could breathe a little more around him. His attitude seemed to have shifted into a new gear that made Quinn think that maybe there was some chance of her being accepted there one day, at least by him.

And most importantly, Rachel looked happy.

She went down the steps to the stone walkway feeling the slightest bit hopeful at how the evening had ended up despite the nightmare it had been a few hours ago.

Then she saw Hiram Berry walking towards her from the driveway and it all went to hell.

He was limping slightly, the way he always did, barely noticeable because he was a short man, but it was there all the same - the tiniest emphasis on one leg more than the other.

"Goodnight, sir," she said politely, but her mouth was so dry, she could hardly get the words out.

Instead of walking past him, as she had intended, Hiram stepped right into her pathway, forcing her to stop at once.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was…I was doing homework with Rachel," she mumbled, looking everywhere but at him.

"I see."

"I really should go, my Mom's waiting…"

"I'm tired of this charade, Quinn," he said curtly. "Sick and tired."

Her heart beat frantically against her chest. There was no kindness here, not like there was in that kitchen a few minutes ago. Out here, in the dark, standing head to head with Hiram, there was no acceptance, no hope. Yet, it was what she deserved.

"I've tried to allow this for my daughter's sake, hoping – no – praying that she would realize the truth soon enough and protect herself the way she should so that I wouldn't have to. But I see now that won't be the case. My daughter is too forgiving, too kind, too naïve. It's her nature. It's how we raised her. But no matter what I do and say, I cannot make her see the sad truth of this world. And you are part of that sad truth."

"Mr. Berry…"

"Oh, no, no," he shook his head, "you won't be speaking right now. This is me talking and you listening. I'm going to protect my daughter, Quinn, because right now she can't do it for herself. So here it is. You are not welcome in my house. You are not to come over here anymore under any circumstances, by Rachel's invitation or no. It is my home and I won't tolerate you in it. Furthermore, you will stay away from Rachel at school. You will no longer spend any time with her outside of it either. Your game ends now. Sorry to ruin your plans for what I'm sure was to be an epic farewell act to leave all of McKinley High talking for years to come about how you gave 'that Berry girl' what was coming to her, but alas, we don't always get what we want. If you continue to have any contact with my daughter, don't think for a second I won't hesitate to call up your mother - Judy is it?"

Quinn was shaking now. She couldn't breathe.

"And tell her just what fantastic friends you are with my daughter! I'm sure she'd be both surprised and delighted to hear it. It's not as though she has any idea the amount of time you two spend together, am I right?"

"Please…" Quinn whispered hoarsely, the word cutting through her throat like someone dragging a barbed spike.

Hiram's restrained fury seemed to unravel at the one word entreaty.

"You will leave my property this very instant," he growled, "or so help me God, little girl, you will regret it."

Quinn wasn't quite sure what happened after that. She knew she was in her car, she was trying to get away, but something went wrong. There was an enormous crash, her neck was killing her, and her heart felt like it was going to give out.

She stumbled out to see that she'd hit the gas too hard coming out of the Berry driveway and smashed into the neighbor's tree, caving in the trunk of her car. Glass and debris were littered across the ground.

It was just a fog, a thick, suffocating fog. She could hardly see, could hardly hear, could hardly feel.

Rachel was somewhere in the distance shouting for her.

Quinn jumped back in behind the wheel and took off.

She didn't go to school the next day, explained to her mother when she went home that she'd gotten into a car accident, someone had rear ended her. They brought the car into Burt Hummel's shop early that morning and Judy took the day off so she could drive Quinn to the chiropractor for her neck and tend to her for the day.

Rachel had called her several times after the accident and then endlessly throughout the next day, but Quinn turned off her phone because her heart couldn't bear the pain of seeing her name on the screen yet again.

Sam came over after school to check on her. She didn't have to tell him what happened - Rachel had given him most of it.

"She's going out of her mind, Quinn," he said worriedly. "I mean, we know what she's like when she gets into those crazy-intense-should-be-in-a-padded-room states, but this is bad. Like, really bad. She said her Dads argued all night long, screaming at each other like she'd never heard before in her life. One of them even left to stay in a motel for the rest of the week. She knows her Daddy said things to you, but she doesn't know what. Jesus…what happened, Quinn?"

But she didn't give him an answer, despite all his pleading and cajoling, and he eventually had to give up for the day and go home.

When she'd been at the chiropractor's earlier, her mother was having a rant session with the doctor as he examined her. It was a mild case of whiplash and she'd have to come back a few times over the next month, just to keep tabs on it.

"If I ever find out whom it was that did this to you," Judy said fiercely, "I'll sue them for every cent they have! How dare people be so reckless! What if you had been seriously injured? And they just left you like that? I'll never understand…"

She went on like that for a while. Her doctor interjected his agreement here and there. Quinn was silent through it all, except for when she was forced into some reply, and it was always the same dulled one.

"Just a hit and run, Mom. That's all."

Chapter Text

Quinn didn't want to go to school. She really…really didn't want to go. Her nerves were still raw from the encounter with Hiram. How was she going to face Rachel after this? She couldn't stay away, like she'd been not so kindly ordered to do; that wasn't an option. But what were they going to do? Would she have to tell her the truth now? It'd been just speculation before, but after that night...she knew for certain now. In her head, she knew it wasn't right that she carried this guilt, but she did anyway. It was almost compulsive. Guilt by proxy? Guilt for her own actions? Did it matter? Guilt was guilt.

Hiram Berry was right - she was a part of the sad truth of the world.

She just didn't want to be anymore.

How was she going to look Rachel in the eye, knowing how badly she'd upturned her life, her family, and not start sobbing right then and there? She couldn't ask for forgiveness again. She just couldn't. What was she going to do?

Quinn slipped through the halls as inconspicuously and quickly as she could. It was cowardly, she knew, but she was so afraid to see Rachel right now. She wasn't in control of her emotions. She'd begged her mother not to make her go in today, but Judy wouldn't have it. She didn't want Quinn falling behind in her classes. No amount of pleading or promises to make up all her work helped.

The parking lot was crowded as all the kids were making their way across to push inside for yet another boring day at McKinley High. As Quinn walked up with the rest, she saw the front doors of the school and nearly had a panic attack. She didn't know what to do! She wasn't ready to confront this yet! Rachel was in there…she'd want answers…she'd want to console Quinn, she'd want…

God, all she needed was a little more time to figure this out! But time was a luxury she didn't have. It took all she had to put one foot in front of the other and get through those doors.

Locker, books, class. Run.

But she wasn't fast enough.

"Hey…"

It was such a soft utterance. Quinn could just picture what she looked like standing there behind her, head down, nervous and sad.

God, she would look so sad…

Already the tears came bursting through and Quinn hid her face by way of the locker door.

"Don't," she whispered desperately.

"Quinn, please, I'm so worried-"

"No, stop," she begged. "Please, Rachel. You don't understand. I can't…do this now. If I look at you right now, I'm going to cry. So please...don't make me do this…just not here. Please."

Behind her, she heard what she knew was a choked sob and tears streamed down her own face, but she still couldn't turn around.

Turns out she was wrong. She didn't have to actually see Rachel to cry; that had been more than enough.

Wiping her wet cheeks with her sleeve, she cringed when Sam suddenly put his heavy hands on her shoulders, but the initial reaction passed and she spun into his arms so that he could shield her again.

As he always did.

"You made her cry," he said tersely.

"I'm a bad person," she muttered into his chest. "It's what I do."

After that encounter, Quinn couldn't stand to be in school for another second and skipped the rest of the day. To hell with what her Mom said! She went home and passed out on her bed, but even then, it was fitful. Apparently, she couldn't have a reprieve in sleep either.

At least Sue had given her a week's leave from the Cheerios after her mother and her doctor firmly stressed how any strenuous activity could seriously injure her right now. Sue wasn't happy, but she had the sense enough not to risk the physical condition of her Captain, particularly with Nationals so close. She needed Quinn and Quinn knew it.

When her Mom came home, she fussed and fretted over her endlessly. Quinn reached a point where she couldn't bear another moment of her mother's stifling, overbearing 'TLC', and excused herself, saying she was going to see Sam for a while. Her mother had no objections.

"Just not too late, Quinnie."

She wasn't going to see Sam.

Instead, she ended up right where she had left off earlier, McKinley High. The school was dark as athletic and other club activities were over for the evening, but the doors weren't locked yet. It was a strange, yet oddly freeing feeling to walk down the dark, empty halls of her high school, the one she was supposed to own, the one where she instilled fear and awe at the same time, the one where none but two people knew her for who she truly was.

Finding her way to the choir room, she was both surprised and not at all surprised to find Brad practicing on the piano.

"Seriously? This late?"

He glowered at her and she wisely chose not to question it any further.

"Well...since you're here...one more time?"

Brad only shrugged. Quinn knew what he was thinking. She'd been rehearsing the song for two weeks now. She was more than ready to perform it, but every time her chance came, she'd chickened out and gone back to practice it some more. She wanted it to be perfect, not a single mistake. There just couldn't be, not when it came to Rachel. Then all this happened.

Now she just wanted to sing it for its familiarity, its comfort. She needed something like that right now. So Brad began to play as she stood there dancing her fingers across the piano top lazily.

"I could put it down to being tired
Or coming home to an empty house
A passing moment, a little mad
No one around to stop me writing to you."

Rachel came in through the door just as Quinn had started to sing, pausing there in naked astonishment to see her girlfriend at the piano with her back to her. Instead of letting her presence be known, she just stood there and listened.

"I never wanna say it's love
But it's really what I'm thinking of"

The brunette sucked in a breath.

"I could apologize
And say 'tear it up
And put it down to the pills I've taken'
Seeing my friends with their lives moved on
Well I've been gently drifting"

Quinn stepped away from the piano and made her way to the risers, weaving her way slowly through them, running her hand along the back of the chairs as she sang. She never saw Rachel. Her hips swayed softly with the music. She was in her own world. A better one than the where she was now. One where she was on Rachel's arm for everyone to know. One where she was accepted. One where she was loved. One where she never had to be afraid.

"I never wanna say it's love
But it's really what I'm thinking of
I felt the same today
As I was feeling yesterday
It'll be the same tomorrow
From then on, it won't change
I never wanna say it's love
But it's really what I'm thinking of"

The music trailed off as Brad took his fingers off the keys and then it was her turn to finish alone. Quinn turned around, having reached the top of the risers, and finally saw the girl in the doorway. Their eyes met and she wavered slightly, but it didn't stop her from the last verse. Quinn's sweet voice crested out through the choir room without a single other sound to distract from it.

"I never wanna say it's love
But it's really what I'm thinking of."

After Brad left the two of them alone, Rachel finally broke away from the door.

"That was lovely," she said carefully as she approached her.

"I was…" Quinn swallowed thickly and averted her gaze. "I was going to sing it in Glee."

"Yeah?"

"F-for you."

"Where everyone would have thought it was for Sam," she said flatly.

She shrugged helplessly. "It would have been for you."

Just then, Rachel burst into a flood of tears.

"Quinn," she sobbed. "Are you alright? What happened? No one will tell me, you haven't answered any of my messages, and I've been so-"

She wrapped her arms tightly around the smaller girl and buried her face in the dark hair. Rachel clung to her for dear life.

"I'm sorry," she croaked. "I'm sorry for putting you through so much. I know it's all my fault. I just couldn't handle-"

"What did he say to you? What did my Daddy say?"

"It doesn't matter."

The embrace was roughly broken apart as Rachel forced herself away with angry, wet eyes.

"Don't you dare pull that! My fathers are keeping secrets, Quinn! They've never kept anything from me before. Our honesty policy was perhaps borderline inappropriate and now…it's become nonexistent. I've been struggling with it because even though I'm angry with them for not talking to me and being…the way they are right now…I know I'm keeping things from them as well. So it would be hypocritical, but you… YOU do not get to keep secrets, not from me."

"I love you, Rachel."

It came out without a single thought in her head, just like that. After all this time of trying so desperately to keep it bottled up, to keep it buried, it just came out. She just couldn't not say it anymore. The wall that had kept her at bay had suddenly crumbled all at once, without warning. And here they were. She really wasn't trying to avoid the question or skirt giving Rachel her answers, she just felt…like this was something Rachel deserved to know. After all Quinn was putting her through, she at least deserved to know that truth. She deserved to have Quinn risk her feelings and put it out there. How often had Rachel done that for her?

"W-what?" the brunette stammered, staring at her with wide, unblinking eyes.

Quinn was suddenly disappointed in herself for letting it come out so unceremoniously, without some kind of romantic build up. It should have been a bigger moment, a grand gesture, with candles, flowers, music, an elaborately home cooked meal, and prefaced with a love ballad. Rachel loved grand gestures. At least there had been a song, anyway, however accidentally that came about. That had to count for something. It had been a plan, even if it wasn't executed the way she wanted. Now that it was finally out there…there was a unique sense of relief filling Quinn's body - a lightness she'd never known before. It was scary, but thrilling at the same time. She realized at that moment how arduous it had been for her to hold onto that little piece of knowledge all this time. Now she was just happy that Rachel knew. She didn't have to hold it back anymore.

"I love you," Quinn repeated plainly without a hint of doubt or hesitancy, never taking her eyes off Rachel. "That's a secret I've been keeping. I couldn't say it before. I've never said it and really meant it. It was always just...expected. You know, you reach a certain point in a relationship, and usually they'll have said it to me, so I had to say it back and it was just…routine. But this time," she murmured, "for the first time in my whole life, I really mean it. I've wanted to tell you so badly, but I'm always afraid that you'll go away, that you'll break up with me, and if I told you the truth about how I felt and you left me, it would be worse so I tried not to let myself feel that way, but it didn't work. It just…never worked. So there, it's not a secret anymore."

Quinn could swear the pounding of her heart was echoing through the room.

She did it. She finally did it. A part of her felt slightly nauseous, while the other was relieved. She'd told the truth, all of it, put herself out there to be crushed, no going back now.

She almost laughed.

No going back now? Who was she kidding? This had been set in stone from that first kiss in third grade. There was no going back from that.

Rachel looked up at her through thick lashes with big brown eyes of unadulterated shock.

"Say it again," she said in barely a whisper.

"A-all of that?" Quinn stammered nervously. "I don't think I can remember-"

"Just those words. The important ones."

"Oh," she breathed with relief. "I love you, Rachel Berry. I'm sorry if I ever made you think I didn't."

Rachel kissed her.

"Again."

Quinn was smiling now. "I love you."

Rachel kissed her harder.

"Once more?"

"Do you want me to record it for you?" she teased.

Rachel gasped delightedly. "That's a brilliant idea!"

"I was kidding!"

"Still brilliant."

"Just kiss me again," she said with roll of her eyes.

"Only if you agree to let me record it."

"You're going to be creepy and listen to it a hundred times a day," she said with an exaggerated huff.

"No! Only on the days I don't have you there to tell me in person."

"That's still creepy."

"Tell me again."

"Don't you want to wait till we record it?" she said teasingly.

"Absolutely not! Say…it…again."

"I'll say it as often as you want for the rest of our lives." She grinned widely. "I love you, Rachel."

That kiss left them both breathless.

"I love you too, Quinn," she murmured and her gaze flickered up to meet the hazel waiting for her, "But you still have to tell me what Daddy said."

She knew it was coming. So she took a deep breath and prepared herself.

"Did your Dad really kick him out?"

Rachel swallowed thickly, tears in her eyes again. "Yes... I've never seen them so upset with each other before. Not even when Dad lost their tickets to a Madonna concert when I was six."

She ran her fingers through Rachel's hair soothingly, threading through the dark, silky locks without a word.

"Tell me," Rachel insisted gently.

"He forbade me to see you anymore," Quinn replied dully, still looking at her hair and not her face, "banned me from your house."

"I see." She nodded, seeming to have expected as much.

"And if I didn't stay away from you, he would call my Mom and tell her about us."

At that, Rachel gasped in horror. "He WHAT?" she screeched. "H-how does he even know about us?"

Quinn shook her head, even though it hurt her neck to do so. "He doesn't. Just telling my Mother we're friends…he knows it wouldn't go over well with her."

Rachel started to cry again and she buried herself in the Quinn's arms. "I'm so sorry for what he did to you. That's not my father, Quinn, not the one I've known for 17 years. What he's doing…he's a stranger to me. I don't know my own father."

"He's just trying to protect you," she replied quietly.

"He's not giving you a chance. All my life, I've been raised to be understanding and forgiving of others, to believe that people can change, that forgiveness is one of the greatest gifts a person has to offer…" She sobbed with a hiccup. "How is this happening? I don't understand."

"Shhh…" Quinn murmured, holding her closer, and pressed her lips to her temple. "It's going to be all right."

"Are you going to break up with me now?" Rachel asked despondently.

The blonde pulled away sharply to see her face, though not enough to lose their hold.

"I just told you that I love you!" she snapped. "How could you POSSIBLY think that?"

"Daddy threatened to tell your Mom," she said gloomily with a halfhearted shrug. "If asked before this thing with you started, I would have sworn on Barbra herself that he would never do such a thing, let alone threaten…" She swallowed painfully. "But with the state he's in, I just don't know anymore. I don't know anything. He could, in all honesty, follow through. So why aren't you breaking up with me?"

"I told you!" Quinn said heatedly. "I love you! I may deserve a lot of things for what I did to you in the past, Rachel, but I'll be damned if it means I never get to be with you. Maybe it should mean that, but I don't care."

"It doesn't," she said firmly.

"Then don't ask me that again!"

"You're angry," Rachel said wonderingly and tilted her head slightly. "Why?"

Because I'm the reason you're doubting yourself. I promised myself I would never be that for you, not like it was with Finn, or Jesse, or Puck. I was going to be different.

"I'm not giving up on us," she said tightly. "So you can't either. Okay?"

Rachel smiled and cupped her face in her hands, stroking her cheeks lightly with the pad of her thumbs, and Quinn could feel herself starting to calm at the soft touch on her skin.

"Okay."

Quinn huffed slightly and put her hands on her girlfriend's hips, pulling her in a little closer. "What are you even doing here at this hour?"

Both girls were red eyed and positively drained from all the emotional turmoil they'd been put through in the last two days. Right now, they just wanted to be near each other. Rachel wrapped her arms around Quinn's middle and tucked herself into the crook of the blonde's neck.

"Forgot my iPod. It's been an off sort of day…" she sighed, her warm breath tickling the sensitive skin at Quinn's throat. "Didn't want to wait until tomorrow and risk it being stolen, that is, if it hasn't been already. What are you doing here?"

Quinn held her tighter. "I didn't know where else to go."

A few days later, Sue made the Trio choose between the Cheerios and Glee. Quinn was absolutely devastated. She loved Glee. She loved being there and she knew how much it meant to Rachel, but a cheerleading scholarship would give her more opportunities and that meant a more secure future... Everything she was trying so hard to achieve. The big reason was to leave Lima and find a better life for herself; the even bigger reason was to be with Rachel. It was true. At this point, she felt like it was the only reason that she was doing it now, the only reason that gave her the strength enough to go on like she was. Just getting out wasn't enough, but getting out so that she could be with Rachel? That was enough to make her endure anything.

She'd already made up her mind when they first started dating that if Rachel got out of Lima and she didn't…Quinn would end it. It would break Quinn's heart like it'd never been broken before, probably end any chance of true happiness she'd ever know, but she'd do it because she would never be the one to hold Rachel back. When she told her girlfriend about her choice of the Cheerios over Glee, she expected a huge argument, a massive, angry, wounded, outburst from Rachel, but it was nothing like that at all.

Instead, Rachel kissed her, said, "It's your choice, Quinn," and quickly brushed away the few tears she shed before starting on a different topic of conversation, one that the blonde wasn't even cognizant of because she was too dumbfounded by Rachel's response.

All day Rachel had been in her head. It wasn't in the usual way, but it was the image of her defeated expression, her disappointment that plagued her. Quinn was minutes away from boarding the bus for the National Cheerleading Championships while at the exact same time, the other Glee girls were on the field to help the boys win their game, not to mention perform the halftime show as well.

She watched Sue bark and rant at the younger Cheerios, herding them onto the bus, and she just suddenly didn't understand it anymore.

She wasn't going to let Rachel down again. She could make it without a scholarship. Glee was more important. Rachel was more important. And so she walked away from the Cheerios with Brittany and Santana in tow (mostly cause neither of them wanted Brittany dead from being shot out of that cannon). Sue Sylvester screamed after them, but Quinn only felt lightness in her heart. She'd made the right choice. Plus, she loved hearing Brittany mouth off to the Coach.

Why had they waited so long to do this again?

Quinn ran onto the field in her costume and zombie make up to cheer on her tiny, tiny, girlfriend surrounded by hulking football players. Seeing the danger surrounding the brunette, she swore she'd castrate any one of those idiot jocks if they hurt Rachel somehow. Sam saw her on the sidelines first and nudged Rachel with a whisper. She spun around wildly, having some difficulty seeing with the enormity of her ill fitting helmet, but managed to push it back enough to see Quinn with her pompoms and the beaming smile Rachel gave her made her choice that much more worth it.

They won Regionals because of Rachel's song 'Get It Right' and everyone knew it. The diva tried to give Quinn credit for co-writing it and praised the rest of them for coming up with the amazing 'Loser Like Me'. All were shocked to hear such modesty and team spirit coming out of Rachel Berry's mouth, all except for two.

Quinn stood in the wings with Sam as she watched Rachel perform her solo and every so often, the brunette would look back to her as she sang with a smile. Quinn didn't even realize she was crying until Sam wiped away her tears and brought them out on stage for the group performance.

She was shocked that she managed to remember a single step or line because of how wrapped up she was in the sheer wonder of Rachel Berry. She made it through somehow though and after they left the stage, having been announced the winners, Quinn immediately found an empty room and pulled Rachel inside to make sure her girlfriend knew just how truly extraordinary she was.

It was the day after Regionals that Rachel had her dance class. Originally, the deal was that Quinn would pick the diva up at her house, but since then, things had obviously changed. Quinn didn't want to renege on any terms - she'd promised after all - and she wanted to keep her promise, but she knew she couldn't just show up at the Berry home with Hiram practically waiting by the phone.

Rachel was no longer on speaking terms with her Daddy, though he had come back after a week of staying in a motel. He got the fiercest silent treatment Rachel Berry had in her to give. The husbands were working through their issues, doing their best to keep a cordial attitude when Rachel was around, but she didn't care. Her Dad was who she spoke to about anything necessary or unnecessary. He even knew she was still spending time with Quinn, but didn't object, and certainly didn't tell Hiram about it. Rachel was relieved for that small assist from her father. At least she hadn't completely lost all touch with both her parents.

Since her Dad knew about Quinn, it worked out just fine. Hiram always worked late on dance class nights, so Quinn was able to pull up right outside to take Rachel without fear of retribution. But when Leroy came out the door with Rachel, it sparked an internal panic. As Rachel got in the car, she watched him go around the front to the driver's side, where he motioned for Quinn to step out.

Rachel had explained to her repeatedly how her father did not agree with what Hiram did and would have no part in keeping the two of them from spending time together, but Quinn still felt like a nervous wreck getting out to stand in front of him.

"How are you doing?" he asked gently.

"Getting by," she replied with a shrug.

"I trust Rachel has given you my side of things?"

"Yes, sir."

"Leroy."

"Yes…Leroy," she said uncomfortably.

"Give this some time to calm down, Quinn. My hope is that we'll all reach a point where we can sit down and discuss this – all four of us. But I want to personally apologize for his behavior that night and the way he treated you. It was wrong and-"

"Leroy?" she interrupted him tentatively. "If it's alright with you…I'd just rather not talk about it."

He looked disappointed, but nodded all the same. "Sure, Quinn. But please know that my husband and I are on different ends of the spectrum here. I believe your intentions towards Rachel are borne of sincerity. You really care about her, don't you?"

Quinn was desperately trying not to cry. "I-I really do."

Leroy suddenly wrapped his arms around her and squeezed lovingly. It took all Quinn had to not fall apart right then and there.

"We'll get through this," he said quietly.

When Quinn got back into the car and Leroy went back into the house, they sat there together quietly for a little while.

"Baby?" Rachel asked after some time had passed and the blonde had yet to look away from the steering wheel.

She seemed to snap to attention at that and looked at Rachel with red eyes, but a genuine smile.

"We are going to get through this."

With that, she started the car and drove Rachel to her class. They held hands the whole way.

Rachel was the slightest bit late, due to a combination of Leroy's talk and traffic, so she had to rush in without saying anything to Lindsay. Quinn seated herself behind the window as she did the last time and watched the whole rehearsal. Lindsay seemed standoffish towards Rachel even in routine and the instructor reprimanded her for it. Rachel couldn't do anything but wait until class was over and then immediately sought out the girl. Quinn watched them have a tense conversation, Lindsay at first unwilling, but Rachel pleading, but it didn't take very long before that changed into willingness and relief respectively.

The two girls were the last to leave the class again and Quinn stood up from her chair when they came out. Lindsay seemed to have a new, stony mask on to face Quinn. She hadn't been prepared before. Now she was. Quinn understood that all too well. She asked Rachel to give them a minute alone. It really was something that needed to be between just the two of them. Rachel was at first resistant about leaving them, but Lindsay took hard eyes off Quinn long enough to nod her approval to Rachel. With no other choice, she left the two behind in the studio to wait outside.

Rachel was pacing outside the doors. Exactly ten minutes had gone by. She knew because she checked every thirty seconds. Quinn had promised to be on her best behavior…but still she worried. Maybe they had differing opinions of "best behavior" as they did on so many other subjects.

She paced faster.

It was just over twelve minutes when then other two girls finally walked out, both smiling, to Rachel's cautious relief.

"So you're actually trying to convince me that that the carpet matches the drapes?"

"This is all natural! But don't think I don't know this is just you trying to get a look."

Lindsay guffawed. "Well, score one for Fabray! Guess I wasn't being as subtle as I thought."

"Somehow I get the feeling that subtlety isn't in your nature."

"Well, it is such a waste of time…" She shrugged in agreement. "Now, that was a 'no' to the look, right? I mean, how am I really going to be convinced if I can't see it for myself?"

"Lindsay!" Rachel cried, having overheard enough to know she didn't like what Lindsay was implying.

"Alright, alright!" She held her hands up in forfeit, looking between them. "A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do, you know. Besides, I'm sure Rachel here will be able to confirm for me sometime soon."

Rachel blushed a furious scarlet while Quinn lifted an eyebrow wickedly. "Oh, soon, I'm sure."

The two of them laughed, Rachel's cheeks were still burning, and Quinn squeezed the other girl's shoulder meaningfully. "See you around, Linds." She turned to Rachel and gestured towards the parking lot. "Meet you in the car?"

She obviously knew that Rachel wanted a chance to talk to Lindsay alone and make sure that the blonde had made good on her promise and not said anything more to hurt the girl. Nodding tightly, Rachel watched her walk off until she was out of earshot and then stepped towards her friend anxiously.

"Okay. Tell me everything. What did she do? If she was rude again, I so apologize-"

"Relax, Broadway." Lindsay smiled and pulled her into a brief hug. "Your girl was fine. She did and said all the right things this time around."

"Really?" Rachel replied skeptically, ignoring how her heart beat faster to hear Quinn referred to as 'her girl'.

"Yes. Really," she retorted playfully. "She explained her deal, how bad you guys have had it lately, her own parents and that saga. She was good, Rach. Promise. She apologized for everything. Profusely. It was overboard, to be honest, but I know that was your doing."

"I just wanted her to be clear in conveying her sincere regrets-"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it." She waved her off. "Point is we're good, okay? Besides, how can I resist a chick that apologizes in the nicest way possible and then still manages to scare the shit out of me by telling me to keep my hands off her girl? She's alright in my book."

"She did what?" Rachel shrieked.

Lindsay was laughing again. "You have seriously got to chill. You think I don't get those threats on a daily basis? Please, my day isn't complete without at least three of those. And your Quinn's is, by far, going on my top ten."

"But she threatened you?" she squeaked, horrified.

"In a very nice way this time!" Lindsay insisted. "I was left feeling thoroughly frightened, but at the same time impressed. She's something else…won my respect in spades."

"I don't think I quite understand this…" Rachel shook her head. "Why are you okay with her threatening you?"

The other girl gave her a scathing look of disbelief. "You think I wouldn't do the same if you were mine? Quinn apologized, told me the truth about what was going on, but made it very clear that she's with you and that's that. Should I tread my dainty little toes over the line…she'll have something to say about it. Rather, something to do about it. All's fair in love and war, Broadway. You got a girl who's fierce and protective. She just hasn't gotten all the steps right yet. I wouldn't worry about it. She seems like the type who learns fast."

"When she wants to…" Rachel grumbled.

Lindsay kissed her cheek. "Be happy, babe. You got it rough now, but now isn't forever."

As the girl walked off, Rachel called after her uncertainly, "She was really okay?"

She looked back with a roguish grin. "Truth? If you didn't already have your claim, I'd totally be all up in that."

Rachel groaned, rolling her eyes. "That means virtually nothing. You flirt with everything that breathes. And, yes, I'm including animals, reptiles, and various other species of the non-human variety."

"Oh, fuck off," Lindsay shot back mildly while walking away. "I didn't mean flirting. With her? That would be something else. Better hold on tight, Broadway!"

"YOU STAY AWAY FROM HER!" she shouted in a fiery burst of jealousy and then blinked in surprise at what had just come out of her mouth.

Lindsay was almost halfway across the parking lot by then, streetlights shining down, when she turned around with a victorious grin and held her hands up to the sky.

"NOW THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!"

Rachel got into the passenger side of the car where Quinn was waiting and she turned down the music when the brunette got in.

"Well? Did I pass, Miss Berry?"

"You're mine, right?"

Her brow furrowed. "Huh?"

"You're mine, aren't you, Quinn?" she asked pleadingly. "No matter what the rest of the world thinks, I still get to call you mine?"

The blonde tilted her head at her knowingly, seeming to want to say more, but instead it was a simple, yet resolute, "Yes."

Rachel gave a curt nod, staring out the windshield. "Good."

"Is everything okay?"

"Lindsay can't have you!" she burst out petulantly and somehow managed to stomp her foot in the car.

Quinn snorted with laughter at her girlfriend's indignant posture; she had her arms crossed tightly with a fierce pout. It reminded her of a toddler who didn't want to share her candy.

"Well, she can't have you either."

"So she can have her perfect hair and explicitly flirtatious personality," Rachel sniffed haughtily. "I've got the voice and the girl."

"Yes, you certainly do." She nodded, biting her lower lip in amusement. "God, you were so right about her! She's like the female version of Puck!"

"But not nearly as sexually promiscuous."

"Are you serious? From the way she talks…"

"It's mostly talk." Rachel shrugged. "She finds flirting the best way to release her sexual tension without resorting to full on contact nearly as often. I suppose the best way to describe it is that her sex life is somewhat akin to Heather Carlson's. Hardly meeting Brittany and Santana's level, but definitely not like-"

"Me?"

"I was going to use someone else as an example, but very well, since you volunteered…"

Quinn laughed. "She talks a major game though."

"I told her the first day we met that she was just like someone else I knew..." Rachel smiled fondly at the memory. "Perhaps if she wasn't only half Jewish then she would be the complete alter ego of Noah Puckerman."

The blonde looked at her curiously. "Did you just say that Jewish people are sluts?"

Rachel's mouth fell open incredulously. "I'm fairly certain that was not my point in the least."

"Well," she shrugged simply, "If it were true, we would have slept together already."

"Okay. That's it!" the diva snapped. "You are no longer allowed to spend any period of time that goes beyond five minutes with either Puck or Lindsay! They're a bad influence!"

"Or a very good influence…." she teased, blatantly licking her lips.

Rachel blushed again, for what felt the hundredth time that night, and turned away from Quinn so that she could get her breathing under control again.

"Thank you for apologizing to her."

Quinn only shook her head. "It was the right thing to do."

"Lindsay said you threatened her to back off of me."

"I did..." she said with some caution, yet didn't try to shy away from it.

"Was it because you think I'm attracted to her?"

Quinn sighed and trailed her fingers over the wheel, taking a long pause before answering. "Maybe a part of me worries about that," she admitted, "I can't help it, but I really just wanted her to know you were taken. That's all."

"And I couldn't do that myself?"

"With a girl like that? Sometimes they need to be told by someone else before it gets through."

Rachel settled herself down into the passenger seat more comfortably. "You impressed her."

She smirked. "I'm an impressive girl."

The brunette made a face. "And not at all lacking in humility."

"Guess I'm picking up a few things from you, hm?" she retorted.

"Oh, this one you already had." She wagged her finger at her reprovingly. "No blaming it on me."

"Rachel?"

"Yes?"

"I'd like to kiss you now."

"By all means..."

A few days after Regionals, Rachel already had Sam preparing for Nationals because she knew that their best bet would be to have a duet for the opening. Initially, he protested, wanting to relax and revel in the win, but Rachel was on a mission so he gave in rather than spend any more energy in a futile resistance. Rachel always got her way when it came to this. She'd accept no less. Besides, it wasn't like she was wrong necessarily…

"She could have at least given me the week!" he grumbled to Quinn who only smiled and shook her head soundlessly.

The plan was that they would practice with as many duets in Glee as possible, hopefully working in concordance with whatever assignment Mr. Schue gave them. That way not only would they have more experience in singing together, but everyone else would get to see how well they worked together also, thus leaving them with little argument when the time came to propose Rachel and Sam to sing the lead duet at Nationals.

Meanwhile, the last two weeks had been difficult for Rachel and Quinn. They'd had to become even more creative with finding ways to spend time with each other now that Quinn was officially banned from the Berry house and technically couldn't be with Rachel at all...anywhere... Rachel hated being secretive with Hiram, but she was still so angry. She certainly wasn't going to abide by his demands, no matter how vehemently he pressed it, even if he was her father. Who knew Rachel Berry could be such a rule breaker? Dating someone Daddy didn't approve of… There was irony in it somewhere, but they didn't see the humor because of the exceeding emotional mess. However, she did still tell Leroy when she spent time with Quinn. So it wasn't a complete rebellion…

Even though Leroy was aware of the truth, he couldn't do anything to change Hiram's mind so instead he simply did nothing when Rachel reported to him. He hadn't been able to convince his husband to lift the ban, but it didn't mean he was going to impose it himself. That was Hiram's doing, not his, and he had made his position abundantly clear.

However, even with Leroy on their side, so to speak, the girls were still forced to come up with ways to get around Hiram who practically had Rachel on lockdown. Thus…improvisation!

Tonight was one of those nights. It was Saturday and Sam was babysitting. Quinn had already brought up the idea before, and so it was set. Rachel told her father she was going to help her friend from Glee watch his brother and sister as they rehearsed. She'd eagerly mentioned Sam, her new leading man, many times to her parents before, so Hiram didn't bat an eye and told her to have a good time. Leroy kissed her goodbye and whispered that she should say hello to Quinn for him.

The girls pulled up at almost exactly the same time in front of the Evans house. Rachel literally skipped over to where Quinn was getting out of her car and kissed the blonde deeply. Glassy eyed and a bit off balance from Rachel's talented mouth, Quinn let the brunette entwine their hands and lead her up to the front door.

She rang the bell, but never took her eyes off Rachel, who giggled bashfully at the attention.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Quinn licked her lips ever so subtly, still tasting that kiss, and gave her an adoring smile.

"You just look beautiful tonight."

"I thought you didn't like this sweater," she said suspiciously. "I wanted to wear something different for you, but it's laundry day and-"

"Who cares about the sweater?"

Sam flung open the door suddenly.

"FINALLY!" he cried and made a wild grab for Rachel's hand, yanking her into the house. Quinn was stunned and alone on the steps, entirely unacknowledged, and forced to be the one to close the door behind them.

Uh…when did she turn invisible?

Bewildered, she found them already in the dining room poring over a bunch of sheet music Sam had laid out piece by piece. His guitar was lying on a nearby chair.

"See, I've got that down," he gestured to the guitar, "I've been practicing mad crazy, but it's here," he pointed to a spot on the paper which Rachel nodded at, "that I keep messing up. I can't get my voice to go there, Rach! I've been doing the exercises you told me and everything! I just can't get it."

"Calm down." The brunette patted his shoulder reassuringly. "You can do this. There's absolutely no reason why you can't. I know what you're capable of, Sam. You're just not used to this register, which is what the vocal exercises are for. Once you grow more accustomed, you'll hit this note every time without a second thought."

"I've tried!" he exclaimed helplessly, tugging his fingers through long, messy blonde hair.

It was getting a bit too long actually. Quinn made a mental note to remember to tell him to get it cut soon. It didn't matter if he was a fake boyfriend, a real boyfriend, or just a plain friend - he still needed to cut his hair.

"Have you gone through all of the exercises? From start to finish?"

"Yes!"

Rachel gave him a look.

"Okay, so not all. Like most of them…"

Another look.

"Fine! Half! But they're super long and take forever…"

"If you want results, Sam, you have to make the effort. I didn't just wake up one day and start singing like I do now."

"No, she came out the womb doing it," Quinn said jokingly, finally inserting herself into the conversation.

She'd been watching their exchange with undisguised amusement until then and stepped up behind Rachel, slipping her arms easily round the shorter girl's waist, and rested her chin on her shoulder. Rachel glanced back with a sweet smile before refocusing on Sam who was still despairing over the failed attempts.

"We're doing this on Monday in front of everyone and I'm gonna screw it up!"

"Now, I'll have none of that Sam Evans!" Rachel said sternly. "We'll work on it tonight, okay? I promise you, I won't leave here until you're hitting that note like you could do it in your sleep!"

He was apprehensive, but nodded all the same.

"If I can't get it…"

"We won't do the song," she assured him.

He exhaled heavily, relieved.

"But we are doing the song because you can do this. So stop whining and let's get to work!"

Quinn took that as her cue and kissed Rachel on the cheek before leaving the two to rehearse by themselves as she went off in search of the younger Evanses.

"QUINN!"

Stevie saw her first and nearly knocked her over when he jumped full force into her arms. Stacy heard her name and came barreling around the corner to attach herself to Quinn's leg. She laughed and hugged them both the best she could.

"Miss me guys?"

"Lots and lots!" Stacy chirped.

"Well, you two certainly like me more than those people in the dining room."

Sam and Rachel's voices sounded throughout the house accompanied by Sam's guitar. Stevie dropped down from her arms and Stacy perked up curiously.

"Who's that with Sammy?"

Quinn kneeled down before the two of them with a mischievous grin.

"That is Rachel Berry. Wanna sneak in and watch?"

The two small blondes nodded eagerly and Quinn took both their hands for them all to go back into the other room and listen to Sam and Rachel's most recent duet.

"If she says anything when you sing for her later," Quinn whispered in Stacy's ear, "Just ignore it, okay, sweetie?"

Chapter Text

They walked out of the Evans house after politely saying goodnight to Sam's parents who were beyond pleased to see their younger, rowdier two children sound asleep in their beds, the house straightened up, the kitchen cleaned, and the three teenagers sitting around laughing and singing while Sam played his guitar. It was the first time Rachel had ever met Mr. and Mrs. Evans and she could tell they were every bit as kind and good as their son was. They seemed excited to meet her because apparently Sam had mentioned her a few times in passing…his new friend in Glee that he sang with a lot.

The only downside to the entire evening was that ever-present reminder that Quinn wasn't hers to claim to the world yet. After the Evanses hugged their son's girlfriend hello, Sam introduced Rachel as Sam and Quinn's good friend. For as used to it as she should be by now, it still made her stomach turn as she watched the parents cooing over Sam and Quinn – the perfect couple – and how everything was going for them.

Quinn explained to Rachel beforehand that Sam had to lie to his parents as well because they went to church with her parents. If he'd given them a half lie…or even the whole truth…who knows what would have happened? What could have slipped out? Their lies could implode before their very eyes.

The blonde bit the inside of her cheek fiercely as she told Rachel how difficult it was for him to deceive his parents like that. She hated that he had to do it and that he was doing it for her. She didn't cry, but her voice trembled as she said, "I'm screwing everyone up." Rachel couldn't do much else but hold her. She didn't refute it in any case, because it was true, Quinn's needs were putting a heavy strain on both Rachel's and Sam's lives. Only the fact is…they were willing to do it for her. She had asked them and they had agreed. Whether it was the right thing to do, the healthy thing, the smart thing, the less hurtful…they had agreed and it was indeed their choice. Quinn did not and could not make it for them.

They were halfway down the front walk when Rachel reached out and took Quinn's hand. The blonde smiled and pretended not to notice.

"That was nice. I had a wonderful time."

"Good."

"You were right about his siblings, they truly are adorable. Stevie is beyond charming while Stacy is just simply precious."

They stopped at the side of Quinn's car, the blonde leaning against the hood, while Rachel stood in front of her. They had their hands entwined.

"I was proud of you for keeping quiet when Stacy sang," Quinn teased, "though I saw that vein popping out…"

Rachel sniffed and tossed her hair back. "I admit it was quite a feat to keep my opinions to myself, but as you said, it would have been inappropriate to so harshly critique a child of that age who obviously will not be pursuing a musical career."

Quinn giggled and pulled the brunette a little closer.

"You…" Rachel started tentatively and then seemed to screw up the courage enough to say what she wanted. "You're so good with those children, Quinn. They're absolutely in love with you."

The blonde looked at her hard for a long moment and then yanked her hands away.

"Don't."

"I only meant-"

"I know what you meant," she said harshly and stood up, putting some distance between them, "and I'm telling you don't."

…As if that had ever stopped Rachel before. She pushed forward anyway, despite her increasing nervousness about how upset her girlfriend was.

"Quinn, you never talk about it. It's not good for you to keep all these things bottled up. Look at what it did to us…"

"What part of 'DON'T' do you not understand?" she snapped and threw open the car door. "It's really freaking easy, Rachel. I tell you not to talk about it, and then you don't talk about it. See? Easy!"

"I just want to help-"

"WELL, YOU'RE NOT!"

"Quinn…" she murmured, wounded, stepping back.

Rachel hadn't meant to hurt her, she only wanted what she said, to help. Quinn always kept things buried too deeply, so deeply that even she didn't understand how badly it was affecting her. She wasn't listening to what was inside her, what she was feeling and thinking. And, the result was, predictably, misplaced anger, feelings of chaos, loss of control. All Rachel wanted to do was help her see that. Pushing things away, keeping emotions locked up, was no longer an option, not anymore because Quinn had her now. Rachel wanted to be the one Quinn would open up to, she wanted to see inside the mystery that Quinn consistently proved herself to be. Rachel didn't want to learn about her piece by piece, little by little; she wanted the door flung open and to be able to walk inside to the mind and soul of Quinn Fabray. Would she ever get to have that?

The blonde sighed and took a deep breath, leaning her head against the car door. She didn't say anything for a few long moments, her gaze fixated far off on nothing in particular. It was with a heartrending sadness that Rachel heard her speak again. As the anger dissipated, she started to see the real Quinn coming out again – her Quinn - the one that she hid so deeply beneath that HBIC Fabray façade she wore.

"I can't do it. Don't you see? There's a reason why I don't talk about it."

"You've mentioned your pregnancy in passing several times before, why not-"

"That was different!" she cried. "It wasn't real then, you know? It was just this weird, awful time in my life where my body wasn't my own and bloated up horribly, giving me stretch marks I'll never get rid of. But to talk about after…that's different. I-It became real. So I can't talk about it, Rach." Her voice cracked, but there were no tears. Only a harrowing weariness that Rachel knew was too profound for someone so young. "It's the only way I can live with myself."

She didn't know what else to do as she looked at the blonde who was physically only a few feet away, but looked as if she wanted to get in the car and drive away as fast as possible. Quinn had wrapped her arms around herself as she stood in front of the open car door. It looked like it was taking all her self control not to do it. It meant something that she was actually fighting that feeling.

So with a heavy heart and invisible tears for her love's pain, Rachel closed the distance, pushed Quinn's soft locks back from her face, and kissed her.

Quinn resisted a little bit at first, but Rachel was stubborn, and soon she had melted into her arms.

"I won't talk about it," she murmured against her lips, "But I will always be here if you decide someday you do."

"I love you," Quinn whispered.

Rachel smiled and kissed her again.

"Right back at you."

"Do you believe me yet?"

"What?"

"Do you believe that I love you?"

Taken aback by the sudden turn of events, Rachel stared at Quinn agape for several long moments before turning her eyes downcast in a sort of shame.

"I'm…I'm...I'm trying to," she stammered out at last and looked up at her in disbelief. "How did you even…?"

"I know you." Quinn shrugged as if it didn't bother her in the least, when the reality was just the opposite. Yet, she put on a brave front. Sometimes it felt like that was all she ever did – put on a front. It became difficult, if not impossible, to know the difference between the two after using it for so long.

"I understand," she said casually, but it didn't have that flippant tone that would usually accompany it. "It's only fair that you would doubt me. I'll just wait until you do believe the truth someday."

"It helps to hear you say it…" Rachel mumbled shyly, "even more when you show it."

"Then that's what I'll do."

"So you'll say it again?"

Quinn laughed and brought their mouths together, kissing her deeply and lovingly in such a way that it made Rachel feel like all the time in the world existed just for them, just for this. With her head spinning, her heart racing, her body alive with desire, they broke apart and Rachel had no idea how much time had passed, only able to stare at Quinn in amazement.

"I love you," the blonde said again huskily and then her swollen lips quirked into a half smile. "Like that?"

"Yeah…" Rachel replied hoarsely and gulped. "J-just like that."

Quinn spent most of Monday afternoon giggling. It seems Rachel's reassuring, patient attitude had a very specific time limit. By the time Glee rolled around, the diva's gentle encouragement was nowhere to be seen - every time Sam would throw her nervous puppy dog eyes, she would glare at him with a fearsome 'mess this up and I will destroy you and everything you love' face, which only made him fret all the more.

He was sweating when they walked into Glee and Quinn refused to hold his gross and clammy palm, but when they sat down next to each other, Rachel speaking with Brad on the other side of the room, she kissed his cheek and patted his leg.

"You're going to be fine. I heard you guys do this plenty of times. You sounded amazing. Stop psyching yourself out."

"She'll KILL me if I screw up, Quinn!" He glanced between her and Rachel.

"You're worried about what Rachel will think?" she said incredulously.

She thought this was about looking like an idiot in front of the Glee club, not about Rachel's opinion…

"You know what she's like!" he insisted. "If I miss a beat, a note, anything, she'll have the police at my door for 'misrepresentation' or something. I don't want to go to jail!"

Quinn was at an absolute loss. "What the hell are you talking about? Where did you even get that?"

"It's what she said!" he explained, lowering his voice, as his eyes darted nervously over to Rachel, who was still standing by the piano, unaware that of the fact that she was the topic of conversation. "If I mess up, she'll sue! Blackmail! Slap me with a lawsuit. Put out a hit on me. Anything! She's been off the charts scary, Quinn…" he whined.

The blonde started giggling uncontrollably - much to Sam's consternation - and it took her a while to get it back under control. Really, all she could do was kiss his cheek again and reassure him that everything would be just fine. Rachel would never put him in jail.

Sam wasn't convinced.

Mr. Schuester walked in and started the lesson so Rachel left Brad after what looked like some very stern instructions – Brad was glowering – and she joined Quinn and Sam on the risers, seating herself next to Quinn. The boy gulped and gave her a panicked side-glance which Rachel only narrowed her eyes at and crossed her arms impatiently.

"SCREW THIS UP AND DIE, BLONDIE."

Okay, so Rachel didn't say that, but that was the feeling Quinn got anyway.

She couldn't help it, the giggles started again. She had no idea that getting these two together as friends would result in such ridiculousness. A few members of the Glee club looked at her strangely so she fake-coughed and tried to compose herself, sitting up straighter.

Mr. Schue talked about Nationals and that they needed to start preparing. Dancing wasn't their strong suit (an understatement, Quinn thought, looking across the room at Finn in disgust), so he wanted Brittany and Mike to help them come up with some practice routines and really step up their game in that area. Quinn couldn't agree more and apparently so did Rachel because she was nodding alongside her vigorously.

"But before we get to that, I know Rachel and Sam have been working on something for us so why don't you guys come on up?" Mr. Schue waved them forward and went to take his seat.

No one but Finn really seemed have a reaction to hearing that Rachel and Sam were going to perform together again.

"Didn't you just sing with him like, last week or something?" he grumbled as the two made their way to the middle of the room.

"Actually, it was two weeks ago, Finn," Rachel replied politely, "and is there something wrong with that? I happen to think our voices fit together quite well."

"Totally," Brittany agreed, jumping in. "It was a surprise, you know, cause he's so blonde and you're so Jewish, but it majorly works."

"I'm with my girl." Artie nodded, sitting next to Brittany. "You guys sound mad good."

This only pissed Finn off even more and Santana was starting to look testy now.

"Well, thank you both very much. It's generous of you to point it out because it is, in fact, entirely true. Now, Sam?"

The boy looked like a deer in headlights the second she said his name. With a roll of her eyes, she pointed to his forgotten guitar off to the side of the room while tapping her foot. Realizing it now, he scrambled for the guitar and slung the strap over his shoulder before uneasily coming back to Rachel.

Quinn gave her girlfriend a reproving look from the risers, conveying wordlessly that she needed to take it easy on the poor guy. Rachel saw it and reluctantly caved, muttering something under her breath before she pulled Sam down to whisper in his ear just as the piano started.

Whatever she said seemed to calm him down, because a little bit of color came back to his cheeks, and he took a deep breath, breaking into a smile. He started to play his guitar and Rachel looked back at Brad one more time before getting ready for her part.

It was then that Quinn realized that the music playing wasn't the song she heard them rehearsing Saturday night. This was something new. Frowning, she leaned forward in her seat, wondering just what was going on.

"They say that home is where the heart is,
I guess I haven't found my home.
We keep driving around in circles,
Afraid to call this place our home."

Sam tilted his head and came in closer to Rachel as she sang. A bittersweet look passed between them, but then Rachel smiled and the tinge of sadness wasn't so strong anymore. Then Sam joined in with her, in a higher key than Quinn had ever heard him reach before.

"And are we there yet?"

The rest of the club was equally shocked; there were impressed murmurs echoing throughout the room. Sam strummed his guitar slowly and watched Rachel as he sang to her and only to her. The intimacy between the two could have easily made anyone believe there was something romantic underlining this, but all Quinn saw were the two people she loved most in the world singing…beautifully. Sam sang softly:

"They say there's linings made of silver,
Folded inside each rainy cloud.
Well we need someone to deliver,
Our silver lining now."

There was something special about this for them. Rachel touched his cheek in a gentle caress. Instead of singing a song, it was as though they were confiding in each other, a conversation no one else was really meant to hear.

When she took over again, her voice high, sweet, and strong, Quinn could feel Rachel carrying her away.

"And are we there yet?
And are we there yet?
And are we there yet?
And are we there yet?"

Sam left her to set aside his guitar and came back with his arms unburdened. He harmonized just a second or two behind her, rounding it out with two distinct voices that complemented each other.

"Home, (home), home, (home).
Home, (home), home, (home)."

As Sam sang another solo part, he took Rachel's face in his hands, leaning in as if he was trying to tell her something important.

"They say you're really not somebody,
Until somebody else loves you."

Rachel bit her lip shyly and pulled his hands away.

"Well, I am waiting to make,
Somebody, somebody soon."

Quinn's heart beat faster.

They sang the chorus together this time, Sam echoing her.

Not once during the whole song had either of them even bothered to look at the audience. Quinn felt a cold streak of jealousy through her veins, but willed herself to keep it under control. She wasn't jealous because she thought there was anything between the two other than friendship.

She just wanted to be the one up there with Rachel.

"Where you will lie on the rug,
While I play with the dog?"

Rachel took Sam's larger hands in hers and looked up to listen to him.

"And you won't be too much,"

He shook his head reassuringly with a wide grin, and then they harmonized radiantly, eyes never leaving the other.

"Because this is too much.
Because this is too much for me to hold.
This is too much for me to hold.
Home, (home), home."

Rachel took her hands away and turned towards the audience at last. Quinn grew warm all over and her stomach flip-flopped when the diva focused in on her. There was something in the way Rachel looked at her, the way Rachel always looked at her, that had time slowing down and speeding up simultaneously, a way that had her whole world turn inside out and perfect, a way that made her feel special and loved, a way that made her feel like she was the only person in the world, the only one Rachel would love more than anything.

Quinn wanted to leap off the risers right that second, take Rachel in her arms, and never let go.

The diva looked to Sam with a soft smile.

"And are we there yet?"

"And are we there yet?"

Together they finished in a flawless, sweet note.

"And are we there?"

Rachel glanced at Quinn and a singular thought passed between them.

'Someday we will be.'

The music slowed to a stop and Sam wrapped his arms around Rachel in a loving hug, partly because it felt like the right thing to do in that moment, but also because he was so overcome with relief that he hadn't messed up. Rachel squeezed him back to let her know how proud she was.

The Glee club was quiet at first - unsure of just what exactly happened. It wasn't because Sam and Rachel weren't good, it was because they were great. Nearly every single one of them looked back at Quinn anxiously to see how the HBIC would react to such an emotionally charged, intimate performance her boyfriend had just participated in.

"And that," Rachel said to the stunned club, bringing their attention back as she left Sam's arms, "is what we, in the business called show, say is chemistry!"

Mr. Schue stood up clapping, looking just as blown away as everyone else was. He ran up to them bubbling with praise, squeezing both their shoulders excitedly. By then, the club figured out that Quinn wasn't going to be throwing a hissy fit so they applauded, showing their full admiration.

"Damn, guys! That was hot!"

"It was so sweet, I loved it."

"Off the chain, yo!"

"That was better than anything you ever did with Finn!"

"No way! Rachel and I are totally better than that."

"Dude, get over it. Evans kicked your ass."

"You looked amazing together!"

"You sounded amazing!"

Rachel was beaming as she took her seat by Quinn once more and Sam rejoined them on the other side as well. After Mr. Schue started talking again, making plans with Brittany and Mike for their "dance boot camp" the rest of the club had focused in on that, leaving Rachel and Sam finally safe to look at Quinn, which they did simultaneously.

"Did you like it?" Rachel whispered.

"We wanted to surprise you," Sam added.

"Surprise me?" she echoed in confusion.

"Yes," Rachel replied, still whispering, and nodded. "That was for the three of us. Weren't you listening?"

"I listened," she said coolly.

Sam's face fell. "So you didn't like it?"

"Shush!" Rachel swatted him. "She loved it."

"How do you know?" Quinn snapped.

The brunette leaned in, looking round to ensure no one else was paying attention to them. "I saw you, Quinn," she said huskily. "I saw the way you were looking at me. Come on, tell the truth..."

At that, Quinn couldn't hold it up anymore and her mouth curled up into a broad smile.

Rachel just smirked in satisfaction and settled back into her seat. Quinn couldn't find it in her to take her eyes off of Rachel, but she bumped her knee with Sam's so that he would know the truth as well. The boy sighed in relief and slung his arm over the back of her chair, finally relaxing after what seemed like days of being on edge. The three of them were quiet as they listened to the rest of the lesson and watched Mike and Brittany start to come up with some basic routines for them.

"I gotta put the ax in my truck before football practice," Sam explained as he was rushing out at the end of class.

"I'll walk you," Rachel said brightly, collecting her things. "Quinn?"

She shook her head. "I have to go to my locker. Meet you by the gym?"

Rachel nodded and Sam took her hand as they walked out, it just seemed natural. Quinn watched them go with a frown.

She wasn't jealous.

Why wasn't she jealous? If it were anyone else…

But it wasn't anyone else. It was Sam. And even though she knew how it looked, how any normal person would probably feel about seeing their significant other so cozy with someone else, she just couldn't feel anything but happy. Things were finally calming down…well, calming down in the sense that life wasn't feeling like a black pit of despair at the moment.

"How can you let them do this to you?"

Quinn was broken out of her thoughts and looked up to see an infuriated Finn Hudson standing over her.

Ugh, not with this.

"Excuse me?"

"Look at them!" he gestured to the empty doorway where Sam and Rachel had just left. "They're practically shoving it in your face. How can you stand for it? The Quinn I know would never let someone do that to her!"

"Finn…" she sighed, rubbing a spot on her forehead where she could feel a headache beginning to form. "Are you talking about Sam and Rachel?"

"OF COURSE!"

The rest of the Glee club, who hadn't noticed the conversation before, went quiet. All eyes and ears were on them eagerly now. They wanted to see how this would go down, most of them had been thinking something along the same lines as Finn, but no one had the guts to say it to HBIC Fabray's face.

"Who else would I be talking about? Sam's messing around with Rachel behind your back!"

"Oh, for the love of…" Quinn raised her eyes to the ceiling, trying to keep her temper under control. Finn was one of the last people she ever wanted to talk to these days. "They're just friends. Sam's my boyfriend, Rachel's my friend, and now they're friends. That's ALL."

"Yes…I'm still stuck on exactly the how the miracle of all miracles occurred when sworn enemies turned into besties overnight…" Kurt interjected loftily.

"It wasn't overnight!" Quinn barked, causing the other boy to raise his hands in surrender, and then she refocused on Finn. "Enough with the little boy tantrums, they just make this even more ridiculous than it already is!"

"He just walked out of here holding hands with another girl!" Finn insisted.

"Yeah? So? Did I miss the memo where that means they're hooking up?" she retorted sarcastically.

"You seriously don't think anything's going on with them? Open your eyes! They're singing together all the time! A-and Rachel's all googly over him! She won't come back to me, but she keeps saying there's no one else. I know she's lying. She's into him, Quinn! And he's not saying crap about it. He's supposed to be with you! How can you put up with it?"

"This conversation is so beyond…" Quinn couldn't help it, she started laughing, much to Finn's bewilderment. "I'm leaving. You need to get over her, Finn. Face it, Rachel doesn't want you anymore and you can't stand it. That's what has you so pissed off and just because you screwed up, doesn't mean you get to take it out on me."

She grabbed Mike's hand as she started for the door. The boy looked shocked, but Quinn ignored it and looked to Tina. "I'm holding your boyfriend's hand - does that mean we're hooking up on the side?"

"Not a chance," she replied.

"Oh, would you look at that!" Quinn turned back to Finn. "Two people holding hands without it meaning anything but platonic affection! And here you thought that was impossible…"

With that, she stalked out still holding Mike's hand with Tina following, leaving behind a very, very angry and confused boy.

Quinn walked down the hallway in a rage, her fury growing with every step rather than dissipating as it should. Something on her arm suddenly yanked her to a halt and she whirled around, eyes flaring. A thoroughly baffled and frightened Mike Chang stared at her with Tina next to him furrowing her brow.

"Uh …" he gestured down to their linked hands, which Quinn had completely forgotten about. Unknowingly, she had just half dragged the boy down the hall without so much as a word.

Mike breathed a sigh of relief when she finally released him and shook his sore hand. Apparently, she'd been holding on to him tighter than she thought.

"Are you alright?" Tina asked.

"Just peachy!" she spat and spun on her heel, leaving the couple behind to scratch their heads.

Sam and Rachel waited near the boy's locker room. Practice was going to start soon and he had to get suited up, but he wanted to keep Rachel company until Quinn got there. He had his arm over her shoulder as he tried to show her the right finger position for a guitar note. Rachel laughed as she tried to imitate his claw like hand and then narrowed her eyes in that well known expression of determination, her tongue peeking out a bit as she tried to match him. Sam chuckled and moved her fingers for her until she got it right.

Quinn wanted to rip his throat out.

"GET OFF OF HER!" she roared, storming up to them.

She hadn't meant to yell it like that, or actually say it out loud at all, but she did. Anyone milling around in the hall right then heard her loud and clear. They turned around to stare.

Quinn normally would have found the scene endearing, wonderful even. The two of them getting along so well? It was more than she could have ever asked for. She loved that they were growing so close, that they were ALL becoming such good friends. That Rachel and Sam weren't just friends (or barely tolerant acquaintances) by proxy anymore. Yes, she would have been happy to see such a thing…if it weren't for Finn still in her head, taunting, sneering. In his obnoxiously moronic way he'd managed to get under her skin big time.

Sam immediately took his arm off Rachel and stepped away, looking freaked out. Rachel knew better though.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Nothing!" Quinn snapped and glared at Sam. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Your hands were all over her!"

"I was just showi-"

"I don't care! You stay away, you hear me? I've had it with you pawing at her all the time!"

"What the-!"

She cut him off with an impatient wave of her hand. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Yeah, actually, I do," he said none too kindly, glaring back at her now. "I just didn't want to leave Rachel alone."

"Well, she's not alone anymore, is she? GO. NOW!"

Rachel's mouth dropped open at the blonde's behavior while Sam clenched his jaw.

"You know what," he growled, "do us all a favor, Quinn, and remove whatever it is you've got stuck up your ass!"

Sam stormed off, disappearing into the boy's locker room, and Rachel just crossed her arms wearily with a look that Quinn knew to be disappointment.

"I'll simply repeat…'what happened'?"

The blonde just shook her head, feeling the eyes still on them. She'd just gone and made things so much worse now. Tomorrow her jealous 'lover's spat' with Sam would be all over the school. It would be all but official that he was cheating on her with Rachel because of the way she reacted now.

This was one of those times she really wanted to put her foot through a wall again, but she remembered how much it hurt last time, and it just wasn't worth it. Instead, she simply left to go to her car without saying a word to Rachel, who remained at her side as they walked through the parking lot.

They had planned to go to the mall after school today. Quinn feigned needing some new clothes when really she just wanted to cajole Rachel into trying on some decidedly scandalous things and model them for her in the dressing rooms, perhaps even make Jacob's crazy 'caught naked in Nordstrom's after being too loud' rumor just a little closer to the truth.

Instead, Quinn was just sitting in the car with Rachel, doing nothing, saying nothing, going nowhere.

"Do you plan on explaining yourself any time soon or will you just be brooding for the rest of the afternoon?"

"Finn was being stupid."

"That is hardly an acceptable explanation."

She groaned and relented. "He thinks Sam's cheating on me with you."

"And here I was under the impression we were participating in an equal, tri-amorous relationship," Rachel teased.

It wasn't funny.

"Quinn!" she cried, eyes widening when the blonde didn't react. "You don't mean to tell me you actually believe Sam and I-"

"Of course not!" she exhaled. "It has nothing to do with that."

"Well, what is it then? You're not angry with Sam."

"What? How do you know?"

Rachel was right, Quinn wasn't angry with Sam, but her actions had obviously indicated otherwise so she was curious as to how the girl was so certain…

"I can tell." Rachel shrugged. "You have a way of taking out your frustrations on other people, however unwarranted and inappropriate. It couldn't hurt to perhaps consider that a working point in your personality. That said, I don't think Finn, no matter what happened between you two, is truly behind this either. And you're not angry with me otherwise we would be having a very different sort of conversation. So who is the recipient of your ire, Quinn?"

Me.

Always me.

"Quinn?" Rachel prompted again when she didn't respond for a while.

How badly she had wanted to tell that gargantuan ape of her ex-boyfriend today, at that very moment, to claim Rachel as hers.

'She's in love with me, Finn! Not Sam! She loves me. Rachel's mine and you can't EVER have her back!'

How close she'd been to screaming those very things, shouting it in front of the entire Glee club so they would all know the truth. She loved Rachel. Rachel loved her. No one was going to come between them. It'd been on the very tip of her tongue. How dangerously close…

It was too dangerous.

"I think we should go to the mall," she said and started the car, driving out of the parking lot before her girlfriend could protest.

"You're going to have to apologize to Sam."

"Whatever."

Even as she said it, guilt was gnawing away her in the pit of her stomach. Sam didn't deserve her outburst today, he never did. Just after having to lie to Finn and everyone so blatantly again, not being able to claim Rachel as hers, seeing Sam with his arm so casually draped over her girlfriend made something snap inside her.

Even Sam got to touch Rachel more freely in public than she did. How was that right? She was so tired of all of this. She loved Sam, but she wanted to be the one to have Rachel in her arms without having to worry about the consequences. She wanted to sing a duet with Rachel and be able to touch her like that in front of everyone. Sam and Rachel could put on a show and have it mean nothing, but Quinn couldn't even have half of that. It just wasn't fair. None of this was ever fair - to any of them.

Where was that silver lining they sang about? When would they be there? How much more of this could Quinn take? How much more before Rachel gave up and finally left her like she deserved?

She glanced out of the corner of her eye at the brunette who had been watching her every move.

"A little groveling wouldn't hurt," Rachel said.

"I don't grovel."

"Fine, then just a sincere apology, because he's done so much for you, Quinn, and you just-"

"I KNOW!"

The diva let them lapse into silence for a moment after that outburst before speaking again carefully. "Perhaps we shouldn't do the mall trip today. Your mood isn't quite on par with such a social outing."

That got Quinn's attention and she looked at her. "Y-you don't want to hang out?"

"Not if you continue to behave in such a manner."

"I'm sorry," she said with a groan, "I'm just a little frustrated, but I'll get over it, okay? We don't have to go to the mall. We could do something else if you want?"

"Do you think you can calm down enough to be pleasant company?"

"Promise."

Rachel considered it for a moment and then said, "All right, we continue on with our shopping plans."

Quinn nodded and they drove in silence for a little while. Rachel gazed out the window while Quinn focused on the road. It wasn't uncomfortable, per se, but it wasn't their usual ease either.

"I'll call him tonight," Quinn said finally.

"A gift would be appropriate as well."

"Chapstick?"

"Perfect."

And with that, they were back to normal.

To hell with Finn.

Chapter Text

Sam and Quinn had made up by the next morning, following a humble conversation over the phone that night. Sam forgave her after a bit of grumbling, but he said he understood. She still bought him Chapstick though. They had to put on a more affectionate show than usual for the masses just to quash the rampant rumors of a love triangle explosion among the three of them. Rachel swallowed it like a bitter pill and tried to avoid the two as much as possible that day. It only got worse when they were in Glee. While they were practicing their dance routines for Nationals, Finn managed to backhand her accidentally – sending her sprawling backwards onto the stage floor.

Quinn had to be held back by Sam as she ranted and raged at the hulking teenager for being so careless. Finn tried to bend down to check on Rachel, but Puck yanked him away, just as Quinn managed to get loose from Sam, saving Finn from having his eyes clawed out. Sam and Quinn tended to Rachel, who was in shock and terrified about what it meant for her nose, together. It was her worst nightmare come true. Sam wanted to go with them to the doctor, but Quinn insisted on taking Rachel alone. Finn tried to go too, demanding that he had a right to see whether or not she was okay, but Mr. Schuester quickly took him aside, out of harm's way, and murmured about how that wouldn't be the best idea and just to let it be. He, like everyone else, saw how dangerously close the two protective blondes had been to physically attacking Finn.

When they found out Rachel's nose was indeed broken, the typically quiet and calm doctor's office was filled with the sound of Quinn's outrage. She roared about how she was going to "murder Finn-ept" and various other violent things until the diva managed to calm her down a bit with reassurances that she would be fine and Finn did not need any of his body parts removed or time in prison for assault.

Then the doctor made the mistake of mentioning a nose job.

Rachel had never seen a grown man run away so frightened before.

The next day, Finn apologized profusely from five feet away, which was as close as Sam and Quinn would allow. Though trying to be brave, Rachel really was concerned about what her nose looked like and said after the doctor's appointment that perhaps she should give it serious consideration and that "some mild alterations" wouldn't be such a bad thing. However, as soon as she said that, Quinn was aghast and made her swear never to change a thing.

"But I love your nose!"

"I don't approve of lying, Quinn, however well-meaning it may be."

The blonde let it go, but she spent the next day pulling Rachel into secluded areas as often as she could, just long enough to place a gentle kiss to the tip of her broken nose before breaking apart again. Rachel was a little confused at first, but her heart melted every time Quinn made the endearing gesture, and she didn't care about why anymore – just as long as long as Quinn kept doing it. During lunch, they ducked into the auditorium where Quinn devoted the entire time to carefully kissing every inch of Rachel's bruises, especially her broken nose, telling her how beautiful she was, and she never wanted her to change a thing because this was the face she loved.

"But it could improve my voice, Quinn."

"Or ruin it! Julie Andrews?"

"She lost her voice after getting her tonsils removed. Perhaps you need to study your anatomy lessons better because this," she pointed at her nose before pointing to her throat, "is not my tonsils."

Quinn huffed. "They'd be messing with things that don't need to be messed with. Besides, that's not why you want to do it."

"It's a reason!"

"Not the reason."

"I could be prettier…" she reasoned timidly. "You m-might find me more attractive."

Quinn abruptly burst out laughing, which made the brunette feel that much worse.

"God help me if that happens!"

She saw Rachel's bewilderment and it only made her laugh harder.

"My body can't handle being any more attracted to you, Rach," she explained when she finally calmed down. "I'll die."

The brunette blushed to the very tips of her toes and Quinn smiled broadly, grateful that she had won the battle.

Rachel's nose soon healed and any talk of "alterations" was firmly forgotten.

Hiram Berry went to Cleveland for a week on business, leaving just Rachel and Leroy at home. Rachel didn't know whether or not to ask her father if it was okay for Quinn to come over because it might have been pushing it too far. Leroy was actively not involving himself in Hiram's decision to ban Quinn from the house (and from Rachel altogether), but that didn't mean he was going to go so far as allow it behind his husband's back. That was a line Rachel knew he wouldn't cross. As of right now, Leroy was Switzerland.

So even though her Daddy was gone for the week, she was disheartened that they still had that boundary. Before the disastrous falling out Quinn had with Hiram, the blonde would sneak in late at night after her parents had gone to bed just to spend the night with Rachel. Then she would slip out the door again and drive her car up from where she parked it a few houses down and pretend like she was just there to pick Rachel up for school in the morning.

Now they hardly had any alone time together, save for the fleeting stolen moments in dark corners at school and if they happened to be alone in the car driving somewhere. Sam was a welcome addition and a great friend to them both, but his necessary presence in public only took away from the precious little time they had alone together to begin with. Rachel begrudged him slightly for it, but it wasn't personal as it had been before. She didn't blame Sam, she blamed the situation.

Singing with him in Glee had helped the two of them so much. When they got together in private to practice that song for Quinn, it'd only served to bring them closer together.

He'd been so nervous before that performance and she couldn't deny her hand in it. It wasn't like she was trying to upset him! She'd just been intent on having it perfect for Quinn and was unused to relying on others for such emotional performances. When she sang for someone, she sang alone, and she could rely on herself more than anyone. Having Sam there changed the dynamic and opened up a whole host of things that could possibly go wrong, but when Quinn gave her that look just before they started, Rachel knew she was being cruel, so she pulled him down to whisper in his ear.

"Relax, Swayze. We're singing for Quinn, that's all that matters… You'll be wonderful."

During one of their rehearsals, Sam had divulged his utmost secret to Rachel. She didn't have the heart to tell him that Quinn had already let it slip and that the two of them had a good time laughing about Sam, lemon juice, and Patrick Swayze in Point Break.

"At least he didn't pick Keanu to imitate," Quinn pointed out, which had them off again giggling about Sam good-naturedly.

No, Rachel simply pretended like it was the first time she'd ever heard that information and played her part perfectly.

"I think it works for you," she said with a smile and ruffled his bangs, which were thankfully shorter again since Quinn had finally gotten him into the salon for a haircut.

When Sam and Rachel were alone together, they didn't talk about Quinn a lot. Instead, they focused on other more neutral topics and discovered that they actually got along quite well. The only time they ever discussed her at length was during the process of choosing the song to perform and even then it had been difficult. They both loved her, they both wanted her, and neither felt like they had her.

In spite of it all, the three were growing closer as the weeks went by. Every day it seemed like they were able to settle into this strange, unusual groove that worked just for them. There was less animosity, less jealousy. It really was just like they were all best friends, except for the fact that Sam and Quinn would always hold hands and Rachel would only occasionally get to link arms with her girlfriend. It hurt less now though.

Maybe it was because Rachel trusted Quinn more, at least a little bit. Maybe, however bizarre it sounded, she was unconsciously starting to accept Sam as an integral part of their relationship. Perhaps Jacob Ben Israel hadn't been too far off in his threesome accusation. Sometimes it really did feel that way and she didn't mind it as much as she would have thought.

"Baby girl!" Leroy called from downstairs.

Rachel stuck her head out the door. "What is it, Dad?"

"Don't do that," he groaned. "Get down here. I refuse to have conversations with you by screaming up the stairs. We are civil human beings!"

Rachel rolled her eyes, but giggled to herself as she bounded down the stairs to meet her father in the kitchen.

"We weren't screaming, Dad," she said innocently. "We were merely speaking with raised voices for clarity, that's all."

He gave her a look and then went back to packing his gym bag.

"Going somewhere?" she asked, seating herself at the counter with her chin propped on her hands.

"Yes, remember the tournament I told you about last month?"

"The volleyball tournament?" She gasped and covered her mouth. "It's today? Dad! I'm so sorry! I'd forgotten all about it! I'm an awful excuse for a daughter."

"Oh, just about the worst a man could ask for," he snorted, rolling his eyes, and Rachel pouted.

"Did you want me to go with you? I'll get my 'I love my Dad' t-shirt right this very second and be there to cheer you on with every bit of enthusiasm you deserve!"

He chuckled. "That's sweet of you, hun, but it's a long tournament. The ride there alone is three hours one-way and it actually goes on for two days."

"Two days?" she repeated in surprise, her eyebrows rising to her hairline.

"Yup!" He clapped his hands and rubbed them together eagerly in anticipation. "That is if the team lasts long enough through the rounds. We could make it to the finals! No, forget that! We're gonna win it all!"

"You think you've practiced enough?" she said skeptically.

Leroy gave a small gasp of indignation and put his hand over his chest. "Why, daughter! From whom do you think you learned that stellar work ethic of yours?"

"Why, father!" she faux-mocked. "I thought it was all my own doing!"

He snorted in disbelief. "We're ready! Ready to kick some geezer behinds! As long as my knee holds out, George's sciatica doesn't act up, and Rob doesn't give anyone a black eye…"

"Robert Fallin has a temper?" Rachel inquired disbelievingly, having met the man several times before.

"Nope," he continued to gather his things, not bothering to look up, "just that big of a klutz."

Rachel laughed. "So you're leaving me for two days? And you just happen to choose now to tell me? This is very poor parenting, father. I'm thoroughly disappointed."

"Ah!" He held his hand up in admonishment. "If you'll recall, I informed you of this event nearly a month ago and it is you, my terrible excuse for a daughter, who so shamefully let it slip your mind."

"Point well taken," she groaned.

"And it's only one night. I wrote down the hotel name and number, as well as all the contact information for the tournament and left it on the fridge for you along with some money for food if you need it, though I did just go the grocery store yesterday. Of course, I have my cell phone-"

Rachel opened her mouth to interject, but he beat her to it.

"…And my charger and the car charger. Who do you think you're talking to here?"

"I just can't seem to win today, can I?" She frowned and then gave him a dazzling smile to which he only stuck his tongue out.

Leroy swung the bag over his shoulder. "I gotta run, sweetie, already a bit later than I hoped to leave. Call me if you need anything. I should be back late tomorrow night, I'll call before then to give you a better ETA, and if your Daddy…"

Rachel's light demeanor vanished into coldness the second Hiram was mentioned and Leroy thought better of it. With a sigh, he left it at that, and kissed her on the cheek goodbye. Rachel walked him to the door, bubbling over with encouraging platitudes and waved goodbye from the front stoop as he drove away. As soon as her father was out of sight, she ran back inside for the phone.

Not twenty minutes later, Quinn pulled up into the driveway.

Quinn went inside without knocking as Rachel had told her to, feeling anxious at first, because Hiram's car was still there even though she knew neither parent was home. When she went further into the house, hearing the absolute silence, she started to feel a little more at ease. They had the whole place to themselves? For an entire night, even? Quinn's nerves started to fade and giddiness took over.

She bounded up the stairs to Rachel's room and took a deep breath when she walked in. God, she'd missed this room, the way it smelled, the colors, its cheerfulness, the way Rachel's presence suffused every nook and cranny, how safe she felt in here, how safe she'd always felt here, from the very first time she'd ever crossed the threshold.

It'd been far too long since she'd been in this room.

Rachel wasn't in there at the moment, but Quinn didn't worry about it. Instead she plopped down on the bed, hugged one of the pillows, burying her face in the pink fabric and inhaled Rachel's scent. It was like with every breath, instead of filling her lungs, it went straight to her throbbing core.

Oh, for God's sake…how could she be so turned on already?

Just the idea of getting a chance to be alone with Rachel after going so long without privacy had Quinn's heart bursting out of her chest when she got the call. It was fairly simple: No Dads, alone for the night, don't bother knocking.

Quinn was out the door before she even had a chance to tell her mother that she wouldn't be coming home tonight. Well, that was what phones were for, right?

The mattress dipped under another's weight and dark hair fell across her face.

"I missed this," Rachel said huskily against her ear. "Seeing you…in my bed…"

Quinn grew flushed and warm all over.

God, she sounded so sexy.

Smiling, she rolled onto her back to meet those large brown eyes she loved.

"I missed this room."

"The room?" Rachel frowned slightly. "What about the girl to whom the room belongs?"

"Oh, her too."

"Quinn," she pouted with those perfect, full lips that Quinn could never get enough of, "Is it absolutely necessary to start off our extremely rare alone time together with sarcasm?"

"Who's using sarcasm?" she replied with wide eyed innocence. "I'm being honest. I really missed it."

"Perhaps I should leave you alone with the room if that's what you missed so much!"

"Nu-uh!" Quinn grabbed her before she could pull away and flipped her over in flash so that Rachel was pinned beneath her. "You see…" she murmured, nuzzling Rachel's throat, but not letting her lips touch just yet, "the best part of the room is this girl right here."

"Oh, smooth, Fabray, very smooth."

"Shut up, Berry. I'm in your bed again…what are you going to do about it?"

Rachel gnawed on her bottom lip for a moment before meeting Quinn's eyes again, a slight edge of nervousness in there now. There was something different about this; they could feel it.

"Kiss you?"

The blonde grinned wolfishly. "That would be a start…"

Quinn was on her hands and knees, hovering above Rachel with that oh-so-familiar eyebrow raised in challenge. So the brunette lifted herself on her elbows and stretched up to meet Quinn's mouth. They kissed slowly and gently, lips barely brushing, until Quinn could bear no more of it and deepened it without warning. Rachel gasped at the force of it and fell back onto the pillows with Quinn's weight fully on top of her.

Fisting her hands in the free flowing blonde locks, she broke away long enough to say, "Have I told you – how much – ah! – I love your hair?"

Quinn smiled and sucked gently on her neck in response, cupping Rachel's breasts firmly over her sweater. The brunette moaned and arched up into her touch. She loved the feeling of Quinn's hands on her, kneading and gentle, but knowing. Knowing just how to tease her, just the right amount of pressure, in such a way that Rachel sometimes had to bury her mouth against Quinn's shoulder just to keep from begging her to take her then and there.

"Only every day since I stopped wearing the Cheerios uniform."

"Oh…" she said absently, more focused on where Quinn's hands were going now, drifting across her belly and over her thighs. The diva wore a skirt so Quinn soon found naked flesh and reveled in it. "G-good, I didn't forget."

Quinn found her lips again and shifted so that one thigh pressed high and firm between Rachel's legs. The brunette ground down on in it involuntarily, moaning into Quinn's mouth. Then her eyes flew open in embarrassment as she suddenly realized that by doing that, Quinn would be able to feel how wet she was. The blonde was wearing a sundress, so her smooth legs were bare as well.

Whimpering slightly, Rachel tried to move away from Quinn's leg enough to save herself, but then there were hands cupping her face and she looked up into hazel eyes, heavily darkened with lust. Rachel felt another flush of wetness between her thighs at the sight.

How badly she wanted this… How badly she knew she couldn't let herself have it…

Quinn loved the way Rachel always responded to her, with such eagerness, willingness…desire. It made her think she'd do anything to please her, anything to bring Rachel pleasure, with no regard for her own. What was she compared to this? Rachel's flushed skin, heating to her touch, the heaviness of her breath, the way she keened and whimpered whenever Quinn took it just a little further than their comfort zone. What was the throbbing between her thighs, the ache of her hardened nipples begging to be touched, when it was Rachel she wanted to pleasure?

She left Rachel's face to circle her hands high on the brunette's thighs, her thumbs brushing against the sensitive flesh, but she could bring herself to go no further. Wetness on her leg was evidence of her girlfriend's arousal and it was driving Quinn mad. She was so turned on, her body feverish with want and need. It'd been so long since they had a chance to be alone, since they'd been able to hold each other like this. Quinn wanted Rachel, she wanted to make love to her right this very minute, but she knew the other girl wasn't ready for that.

What was she ready for though?

"Rach, I need rules!" she gasped out suddenly.

The brunette kissed her soundly before replying. "Rules?"

There was more kissing and Rachel's hips thrust up against her. Quinn stifled a groan, pulling away momentarily.

"Yes, rules, as in boundaries, limits. We've established no sex, but I need your no fly zone."

Rachel giggled breathlessly. "That sounds absurd. Did you learn that term from Noah?"

"Seriously," Quinn panted. "I need to know so I don't…go too far."

Sensing the need in the other girl, Rachel struggled through her lust-addled brain for coherency before she finally had an answer.

"N-nothing below the waist."

That was good! That was a line in the sand! That helped!

"Okay..." Quinn laved over her pulse point before nipping lightly. Her heart pounded frantically against her chest, the nerves coming on now, though she tried not to let it show. "So that means if I wanted to…say…take your shirt off right now, that would be all right?" She tugged at the hem to further her point.

Rachel looked up at her with wide, unblinking eyes as she nodded. "Y-yes."

She pulled the diva's sweater off, tossing it aside without a second thought, and focused in on the delicious sight. Rachel's flawless skin, tanned torso, the delicacy of her collarbone, the swell of her breasts hindered only by a lacy, navy blue bra. This wasn't entirely new for them. They'd gotten here a few times before.

"And… "she uttered with a hint of breathless wonder, trailing fingers lightly over the curve of her bra where the fragile flesh of her breasts was exposed, "I also get to take this off?"

Rachel was panting harder now, her eyes unfocused, but still she didn't shy away or hesitate.

"Yes."

That was something new. She hadn't seen that much of Rachel since their first night in this bed. It struck her how extraordinarily different things were now from that night, how different they were, and how different she was.

Quinn's mouth went dry while her heart thumped loudly in her chest. She didn't go to remove it right away though, content with kissing the exposed cleavage, her tongue darting out to taste the sweetness there. She brushed her thumbs over the straining nipples that poked angrily through the fabric and, without thinking, closed her mouth over the fabric, teasing the points with her teeth. Rachel writhed against her, running her hands up and down her back before coming back to stroke through her blonde hair again.

They had recently discovered the diva's penchant for Quinn's hair now that it was so readily accessible without the need for the tight, slicked back, cheerleader ponytail. When Rachel expressed her fondness (and possible borderline fetish), Quinn had taken extra care when doing her hair every morning before school. She got up an extra half hour early just to curl it because she knew how much her girlfriend liked it that way.

"Quinn?" Rachel moaned into her mouth.

She had to force herself to listen because it kind of sounded like this was the third or fourth time Rachel was attempting to get her attention and she hadn't heard earlier.

"Hm?"

"What do you want?"

"You," she replied easily.

"I'm…I'm not ready."

"I know. It's okay, baby. I told you, I'll wait as long as you need."

"B-but what if I could…do something for you now?"

"Do something for me?" she echoed curiously.

"If you'd like, we could…" she swallowed thickly, "find a way for you to have release?"

"Are you talking about dry humping?"

"Quinn, don't be crude!" Rachel exclaimed.

She sighed with a roll of her eyes. "I'm simply being direct and to the point. I thought you would appreciate forming clear parameters and guidelines in our sexual explorations."

The brunette's eyes lit up in amusement. "Baby…I think you just sounded like me there…"

Quinn's mouth fell open in shock before she winced at the realization. "God help me, I did. That's it! We're spending less time together."

"Like hell!" Rachel snarled fiercely and dug her nails into Quinn's back, much to the blonde's surprise, whose eyes widened at first then she chortled with laughter. "If you think you're going to spend even an iota less time with me, I'm breaking up with you!"

Even in jest, however, the simple mention of Rachel breaking up with her had Quinn's stomach clench painfully before she reminded herself that wouldn't happen. At least, she prayed it wouldn't. 'It was only a joke' she repeated in her head and forced herself back into the playfulness of the mood.

"But then we would never see each other!" Quinn wheedled.

"Then I suggest you take it back!"

"I take it back! I take it back!"

Giggling, Quinn trailed open-mouthed kisses down her trim stomach before stopping just below her bellybutton and she looked back up at the brunette.

"Now about the humping…"

"Quinn…" she whined.

"What else would you have me call it?"

"I don't know. It just sounds so…"

She slid back up to Rachel's mouth, kissing her thoroughly. "Let me remind you that you are the one who is proposing that I hump your thigh until I come. Turning into a prude now isn't going to help matters."

Rachel exclaimed angrily in protest and rubbed her thigh against Quinn's soaking core, causing the blonde to shut her eyes tightly with a yelp, biting down on her lower lip.

That felt so fucking good…

Quinn could feel the pressure coiling low in her belly and even though that usually meant they were supposed to stop now before it got worse, she couldn't bring herself to. She just wanted more.

"So much for being a prude," Rachel retorted smugly. "All I meant was that just because we're not having sex doesn't mean you can't find some release in the meantime."

"I-I don't know…" Quinn said breathlessly. "Are you comfortable with that?"

"Is it something you want?" she countered without answering.

"I want everything." Quinn tucked some of the thick, shining brunette hair behind her girlfriend's ear with a loving smile. "But I'm okay to wait. I'd rather…I'd rather it be both of us than just me…d-do you know what I mean?"

Rachel nodded shakily and without breaking eye contact, Quinn reached behind her and undid the bra clasp, finally letting the garment fall aside. Quinn could see Rachel trying to fight the urge to cover herself so she took her hands again and kissed her.

"You're perfect."

Quinn moved down to her jaw, throat, neck, collarbone, until she reached the splendid globes she'd hardly taken the time to fully appreciate in their first sexual foray. It felt like a lifetime ago and her memory had not served her well. Rachel was even more beautiful than she remembered.

The diva's chest heaved nervously, causing her breasts to bounce with each inhale and exhale.

"I understand I'm considerably smaller than-"

Quinn looked up at her sharply. "You're perfect."

She leaned down and took one dusky nipple into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the pebbled point before suckling gently, teeth grazing ever so lightly. Rachel squirmed beneath her. Quinn didn't realize it, but she was unconsciously rocking her hips against the brunette as she explored this new wonder. She switched to the other side, releasing one of Rachel's hands so that she could tend to the abandoned breast at the same time, circling the wet nipple with her fingers and squeezing as she used her mouth on the other. She cupped her fully, testing the weight and size, marveling at how perfectly Rachel fit into her hand. Like Quinn, and only Quinn, was made to touch her like this. Rachel was making the most amazing sounds…little ones, from deep within, the back of her throat, like she would never sound in anything else. Not even on stage.

"S-so since we've established that everything above the waist is acceptable for me, does the same apply for you?"

Quinn reluctantly left her newfound pleasure and returned to the sweet, swollen lips waiting for her.

"Rachel…" she murmured against her mouth, "There's a lot of things I haven't been able to give you…at least not yet…but this isn't one of them. Whatever you want, you can have it."

"I want to see you," she whispered.

As soon as she said that, it was like every ounce of confidence had been suddenly drained out of Quinn. She'd been so sure about her desire for Rachel that it tended to have her forget about her own insecurities. Now they were bearing down from every corner to smack her squarely across the face. Fear kept her frozen there, fear…shame…embarrassment. She didn't want to expose herself like that, not when she was so unhappy with her body.

But how could she deny Rachel now after she'd just promised…

The brunette immediately picked up on her hesitation, knowing just what was stopping her. Quinn had mentioned her self-consciousness before about the stretch marks she hadn't been able to get rid of after being pregnant. Rachel lifted herself onto her elbows, looking up at Quinn with swollen lips, bare breasts, and this look on her face…of desire, of acceptance, of pure, unadulterated love. It was the sexiest, most incredible thing she had ever seen.

"You are, and always have been, the prettiest girl I've ever met, Quinn. Did you know that? Do you know how long I've thought that, even before we…" she trailed off shyly. "There is absolutely nothing wrong with you and if you think that I-"

"My body isn't like what it used to be before."

She raised an eyebrow. "Then it must be better now, because I've gotten some glimpses, and I'm afraid there is just no possible way to improve upon that kind of perfection."

Quinn blushed, and even though it helped to hear that, it wasn't enough.

Rachel was still looking up with those large brown eyes of hers that she could melt in and rubbing her hands in soothing circles on Quinn's bare thighs. Quinn couldn't help it, she rocked her hips a little closer, urging those hands higher to where she so desperately wanted them to be.

Rachel smiled. "I believe you when you tell me you're attracted to me, Quinn. Not at first, of course, but I know it now. Why can't you believe me when I tell you how beautiful you are?"

With her heart in her throat and her body shaking, Quinn knew she had to let go of her fears. Rachel deserved that much…that much and more. So with trembling fingers, she pulled her dress over her head with Rachel's help and removed her bra. She did it quickly, like pulling off a band-aid. It hurt less that way, no stopping halfway.

Rachel's eyes went wide and Quinn was shocked to see how dark they had become. The brunette licked her lips unthinkingly.

"Quinn…you're a goddess."

"Don't do that," she muttered uncomfortably.

"Don't tell the truth?"

Rachel pulled her into her lap and immediately latched onto one breast, palming the other with nimble, knowing fingers. Quinn gasped at the new sensations and held Rachel there, wrapping her arms around the smaller girl. She shivered with pleasure as Rachel's hot mouth worked her aching breasts that had waited so long for proper attention to. Proper attention is exactly what Rachel had in mind.

It felt so good.

Rachel felt so good.

The pressure was getting worse. Feverish and soaking between her legs, Quinn yelped when the brunette grabbed her ass and yanked her closer.

There was only so much of this a person could take without getting any relief and Quinn was about to lose her mind. She was desperately doing everything she could to keep within Rachel's nothing-below-the-waist boundary, but it was becoming damn near impossible as they rubbed against each other greedily.

"W-we should stop..."

She tried to slow their kisses, pulling back slightly.

"Don't even think about it!" Rachel growled and before Quinn knew it, she was flipped backwards, now at the foot of the bed, with Rachel pinning her wrists to the mattress, grinding hard against her. She moaned at the brunette's attentions and gasped when Rachel's hand slipped beneath the fabric of her panties.

"Ah! Y-you just said-"

Rachel cut her off by kissing her again, her fingers dipped inside the slick wetness for the briefest of moments before there was a knock on the door and they both shrieked in surprise, tumbling off together onto the floor with a thud.

Leroy came in with a frown. "Baby girl? I heard-"

"DAD?" Rachel squeaked. "You scared me!"

They both desperately tried to find a way to cover themselves.

"Um, Rachel, honey, what are you doing down there?"

"L-L-Looking for my earring!" she stammered. "I dropped it!"

That was when he saw the top of a blonde head peeking out over the side of the bed. "Oh…" he said knowingly. "Is that you, Quinn?"

"Yes, si- Leroy," she answered shamefully.

"Would this be you hiding from me?"

"Maybe?"

"Good. Keep doing that. I never saw you. You were never here. Clear?"

"Crystal."

"What are you doing back so soon?" Rachel asked, her voice still unusually high.

"Forgot my knee brace, have you seen it?"

"B-basement! You took it off after a workout."

"Ah-ha! I knew it! What would I do without you, darling? Don't worry, I'm off again." He disappeared from the doorway for a moment, but before Quinn and Rachel had a chance to even draw a breath of relief, he reappeared. "Remember, Quinn was never here. I never saw her."

"Saw who, Dad?"

"Exactly!"

Then he was gone again. They held their breath this time, but he didn't pop back, and they started to breathe easier. Then a few more minutes passed and they heard the car engine start, before driving off into the distance. Only then did they finally collapse onto the floor.

Quinn burst into hysterics while Rachel looked pale and traumatized.

"That was so close!" the blonde gasped through fits of laughter. "Can you imagine?"

"This isn't funny, Quinn!" Rachel whined. "He could have seen…oh God! It would have scarred him for life!"

The parental interruption was a bit of a mood killer, so they got dressed again before heading downstairs to decidedly more neutral territory than any room with a bed in it. Quinn put on music while Rachel ordered them dinner and they spent the next hour dancing around with each other and singing until it arrived.

After they ate and the two of them cleaned up, Rachel suggested watching TV in the den. Quinn noticed that she was nervous about having to go back upstairs together, but didn't comment on it. They had gone further than they both thought they would, and she knew that had to be making Rachel anxious. She vowed to herself that they wouldn't do anything else tonight. When she got into bed with Rachel, there would be a sweet kiss and cuddling, but not an iota more. Rachel needed to feel comfortable and Quinn wanted to prove to her that she could be trusted not to step outside her boundaries.

Quinn left the kitchen first and plopped onto the couch, stretching her legs across the cushions. Rachel joined her a few minutes later. Instead of sitting up so they could be side by side, Quinn pulled one of the throw pillows under her head and scooted back to make room for Rachel to lie down in front of her.

The brunette grinned at the gesture and eagerly snuggled into her girlfriend's waiting arms. Quinn dropped a light kiss to the exposed skin at her shoulder and curled her arm around Rachel's waist, pulling her back so that they molded into each other. Rachel sighed contentedly when Quinn rested her head against hers and picked up the remote, but before she turned the TV on, she changed her mind and put it down again.

"I admit, though potentially traumatizing, humiliating, and subject of thousands of billable hours in therapy, it was rather fortuitous that Dad interrupted us when he did."

"Oh, you mean because you completely lost all self control and tried to ravage me?" Quinn teased and nipped at her neck.

Rachel turned around to face her and Quinn could see a bright red staining her cheeks.

"Y-you were right before," she said nervously, ducking her head. "We need more rules. My desire for you proves a formidable opponent, Quinn. I need to make sure I don't let myself go like that again and do something I'll regret. Promise you'll help me with this? Unless we discuss it previously, without the heat of the moment as influence, promise you won't take advantage?"

That threw Quinn for a loop.

She stilled for a moment and then leaned away as far as she could in their cozy position so that she could see Rachel's face more clearly.

I don't understand…

Rachel seemed completely comfortable with everything they've been doing so far. Was she not the one who pinned Quinn to the bed with her hand down her panties? God! She'd even just admitted to wanting to have sex with her! That was what she said right? She wanted it, but Quinn had to stop her?

What kind of ridiculous reasoning was that? Even for Rachel this was overboard!

What was stopping her? Rachel didn't have religious qualms about sex before marriage. She did say once that she wanted to wait until she was twenty-five, but surely that was different with Quinn…wasn't it? Oh, God! Was that it? Did she still want to wait that long?

Her heart bottomed out at the thought.

How was she going to survive…seven…no…eight! Eight years of being with Rachel like this and never…

SHE WAS GOING TO DIE.

That was just the end of it - death by sexual frustration. It was something Puck could probably identify with. He always referred to himself as a sex shark. If he stopped, he died. Quinn always thought he was just a pig for saying it, but she was really starting to understand him a little bit more now.

How was she going to survive eight years in this constant state of…

FUCK!

"S-so this is about you still wanting to wait until you're twenty-five? You wouldn't want-"

Rachel looked at her in surprise. "You knew about that?"

"I may have overheard Finn complaining about it." She shrugged noncommittally, averting her gaze as her mind raced.

Quinn knew Rachel wasn't ready and she was more than willing to wait as long as she wanted, but…GOD! That was a really damn long time!

"No, no." Rachel shook her head. "I gave up on that a while ago. I realized it was hardly realistic that I'll be able to wait so long…all things considered… However, I still plan to win a Tony Award by the time I'm twenty-two, but engaging in intercourse with you probably won't interfere with that."

Quinn's head snapped up to face Rachel again as she could feel the hope pouring back into her body, hope and relief…very, very intense relief.

Wait, did she say "probably"? PROBABLY? What the hell…

Oh, whatever.

There were more important things to focus on… Like the fact that it wasn't going to be eight years! She could deal with that!

Then the confusion came again.

If the 'wait until she's twenty-five' thing wasn't what was stopping Rachel…then what was? They've been together for several months now, they've known each other nearly all their lives, and it wasn't like she didn't want to…Quinn could most definitely attest to that after their encounter earlier.

"Well, what is it then? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

The way the brunette chewed on her bottom lip told Quinn otherwise.

"B-but before you seemed so…well, you were okay with it, right?"

Rachel turned even redder than Quinn thought possible.

"Yes," she managed to choke out, "I w-was, I mean, it was…it was…" She stopped to take a deep breath before blurting out, "I'm just not prepared to take that step yet, Quinn!"

As she looked into that beautiful, blush stained face, into those wide, dark eyes, Quinn figured it out.

It was like someone had poured a bucket of ice water over her head, freezing her from head to toe.

She got it now - why Rachel was so uncomfortable, why she was saying one thing and yet acting in another.

Rachel was ready to have sex, more than ready probably, but she wasn't ready to have sex with her.

She still didn't trust Quinn, she didn't trust them, she didn't trust the simple truth that Quinn wanted her and only her…or that Quinn loved her.

It took her a few moments and a yelping sound before she realized she had rapidly disentangled herself from Rachel and leapt off the couch.

"Oh, Quinn, don't-"

"So when will I have proven myself?" she spat bitterly, not able to look Rachel in the eye as she straightened her clothes. "When I start introducing you as my girlfriend? Then you'll have sex with me? Will I have earned it then?"

"No!" Rachel stressed, shocked, and sat up. The blonde was standing in front of her with her arms tightly folded across her chest. "I'm not trying to give you a-an ultimatum, Quinn. It's not like that."

"Yes, it is," she said flatly.

She didn't know whether to be hurt or angry so it ended up being some strange amalgamation of the two that really just made her sad more than anything else.

"And, frankly, it really hurts, Rachel. I was okay with waiting as long as you needed, but you want this too! You're holding yourself back from us when I've given it everything…"

"Given it everything?" the brunette echoed in disbelief, starting to get angry now. "YOU are the one who's still toting a boyfriend on her arm for everyone to see like some accessory piece! YOU are the one who refuses to let anyone know about us, our friends, our family…no one! Given it everything? You've got it the wrong way around, Quinn. I'm the one who's been doing the giving here! Just for your sake and your feelings and your perfect reputation and status. How can you honestly stand there and have the nerve to tell me otherwise?"

Quinn wanted to scream.

She wanted to scream and slap Rachel silly until she got it into her thick diva head.

Instead she was just holding back tears.

How could Rachel still not understand all that she was risking? Her whole life… Her family… Everything! For her! Just for her! Okay, so Quinn hadn't told her everything yet, but she'd done and said everything but! Why couldn't Rachel…

"I-I wish," she stumbled over her words thickly, trying not to cry, "that you could actually find it in you to have more faith in me. It's like you're still just waiting for me to screw you over when…all I want to do is love you."

She was picking up her things along with her jacket and making her way to the door with Rachel's desperate pleading behind her.

"Don't go! Let's just talk about this. Don't run away. I didn't mean it like that. Quinn, I love you, you know I do!"

She grabbed the blonde's arm to stop her, but Quinn just shrugged her off.

"I can't do this right now, okay?" she said dully. "I have to go. I'll see you later."

"Quinn…"

But she was already gone.

Chapter Text

After the blonde left, Rachel was at such a loss. She wanted to tear out after her, searching high and low for wherever Quinn might have gone because it certainly wasn't back to the Fabray house. She understood Quinn well enough to know that much. But she couldn't go looking for her. What would she have to say? What could she offer in defense? There was no defense. Quinn was right, plain and simple. Rachel had been holding out, not because she didn't want to make love to her, not because she wasn't physically or emotionally prepared for that step, but because she was trying to protect herself.

They weren't public. Quinn had a pseudo-boyfriend. How could she trust that this was real...as much as she wanted to? As much as she wanted to believe Quinn when she said, "I love you," a part of her just couldn't accept it. How could she love her so much and still keep her hidden away like this? It'd been months since they started this, months from the very moment Quinn found her in the auditorium after Finn had so publically and devastatingly broken up with her.

The blonde had approached her silently, almost cat-like, but maybe it was just because Rachel was crying so hard that she didn't hear the footsteps. It was a visceral shock to her system when she felt another warm body pressed against her side. She had gasped and looked up to see Quinn Fabray, one of the last people she wanted to see, right up there along with Santana or Jacob Ben Israel. She couldn't bear the inevitable gloating, the smug 'I told you so' look on her face or perhaps with Quinn it wouldn't have been a look, but actual words. Whatever it was she had planned, Rachel was in too fragile a state to handle it. So she wiped away her tears and prepared herself to tell Quinn to leave her alone.

It never happened.

Before Rachel could say a word, those lips were pressed against hers again, for a startling third time in her life.

She didn't really remember everything that came in the weeks afterward - it was a jumbled blur in her head. She only remembered abstract thoughts, feelings, touches, desire... It wasn't until Quinn came to her house that night, practically kicking down the door, when things became less of a haze and coherent memories once again.

With nothing else to do, no other idea, Rachel jumped onto her elliptical for a second workout of the day trying to distract herself from thoughts that threatened to drown her. The way Quinn had walked out of there, the crushed look on her face...knowing she had been the cause...it was unbearable. Rachel never wanted to make Quinn feel that way, to feel rejected, to feel untrustworthy. She wanted to trust what they had, truly she did, but how could she forget? It was too hard and too frightening. Quinn said she was giving them everything she had, but how could that be true when what they were was some shamefully hidden secret?

Images flashed into her mind unbidden, soft hands on her stomach, the hot breath against her ear, the tongue on her…

Rachel desperately sped up the intensity of her workout. She realized the irony of trying to run away from something on an elliptical machine, but it was helping. Soon she couldn't think of anything else.

It wasn't until her lungs burned and her legs trembled, threatening to give out on her, that Rachel was forced to let up. Though it was the time she normally would have taken to stretch, as every responsible person should do, Rachel just collapsed onto the floor. While she was flat on her back, staring at the ceiling, she realized she was almost in exactly the same spot she had been in earlier, only Quinn was next to her and both of them were topless. She turned her head to see where Quinn had been, remembering the way she had laughed so hard after her Dad left, the sound of her voice, so delighted, so happy, so carefree. The way her lips curved, her eyes shining, her blonde locks messy and sticking to her forehead. She was so beautiful. She was always so beautiful. How could someone like that love her? Or even just...desire her...the way Quinn seemed to?

Quinn was right. Rachel had been giving her an ultimatum, though she hadn't done so knowingly. She'd never even thought about it that way until the blonde had put it into words that she herself couldn't. Rachel knew she was holding back because she was afraid, but the real reason hadn't truly come out until now.

Yes, Rachel wanted to have sex with Quinn. She wanted it desperately, needed it to a point of severe embarrassment, but she hadn't allowed herself to give in.

Because she didn't trust Quinn, not completely.

They couldn't go on like this. It'd been months now that they were together and this was the point where she chose to give everything or...to end it. She needed to decide that either this person was trustworthy enough to make the commitment or decide they're not and then...well, how could she continue after that?

It was with a sweaty desperation that Rachel scrambled to find her phone. It was buried at the bottom of her purse and took a lifetime, it seemed, until she wrapped her fingers around it.

"Quinn!"

"What?"

"You didn't go home, did you?"

"No."

"Where'd you go?"

"What does it matter?"

"You can't leave me all by myself in a house without anyone around to fend off the burglars."

"No one is going to break in, Rachel."

"I…I…please come back. I hate the way we left things. I'll never sleep tonight without you here. I don't…we can't just let this stand. I can't bear it."

"I told you…I just…need some time."

"And I need to talk to you."

"You always need to talk."

"This is important!"

"I know it is. I just…don't know if I'm ready to hear what you have to say."

"Do you think I'll break up with you?"

"I always think that."

"Quinn…please?"

"A-are you going to break up with me?"

"Of course not."

"So you just want to talk?"

"…And have someone here to fend off the burglars."

"NO ONE IS GOING TO BREAK IN!"

"Better safe than sorry! Bring a weapon! I have Daddy's golf club."

"I am not bringing a weapon! You're being a paranoid freak!"

"Cautious, Quinn, I am merely being cautious."

"Mentally challenged more like."

"Does that mean you'll come back?"

"I'm not bringing a weapon."

"That's okay! If anyone sees the ex-Head Cheerio that'll be enough to have them running for the hills."

"Flatterer."

Rachel took the quickest shower of her life, jumping in the moment she got off the phone with Quinn who very reluctantly agreed to come back to the Berry house. It was getting late, but Rachel didn't care. They didn't have school tomorrow and Quinn no longer had Saturday Cheerios practice to deal with. She quickly threw on some pajamas, shorts and a tank top, before blow drying her hair as quickly as possible in front of her vanity mirror. She wanted to look nice for when Quinn came back, at least, not a complete mess like she felt inside. Her heart raced while the blow dryer roared in her ears. Rachel could have simply chalked up the increased heart rate to her rushing around like a madwoman, but she knew the truth.

She was trembling at the thought of what she was going to tell Quinn.

Quinn crossed the Berry threshold for a second time that night, hesitating at the door before taking a deep breath and letting herself inside. She locked it behind her, just for Rachel's peace of mind, and made her way towards the stairs. Instead of going up right away though, she stopped in front of the bottom step and looked up nervously. She could hear the faint sound of a hair dryer from Rachel's room.

After she had stormed out of the Berry house, she hadn't really gone far. She was halfway to Sam's before she realized…she didn't want to talk to him. She didn't want to talk to anyone but Rachel. Instead, she just pulled over, turned the car off and stayed there. Where else was she going to go? Home? Ha! The last place she wanted to be.

Honestly, running out like that had just made her feel worse. She should have stayed. She should have talked to Rachel about this. Was it blackmail? Yes. In a sense, anyway, but the way Rachel had looked at her…Quinn knew she hadn't meant to do it.

How could she blame Rachel or even be the slightest bit upset with her when she didn't have the nerve to tell her the whole truth? It was stupid, but she almost wished Rachel was actually psychic and could find out for herself instead of Quinn having to say it.

No…

Even then, Quinn didn't want her to know, even if it meant this. It would be worse if she knew.

Rachel wanted Quinn to come out, to admit to the world that they were in love, and it was the one thing Quinn couldn't do, not yet. Not that she didn't want to. Every day she spent with Rachel, the more she fell in love with her, the more she hated the lies they were hiding behind…lies that ate away, lies that sunk deeper, lies that she couldn't bear, but it had to be done. What other choice did she have? The lies kept them safe.

Rachel didn't know how important they were. Sam did. Sam knew and every day he would urge Quinn to just tell Rachel the truth, once and for all. But even he couldn't understand. If Rachel knew…she wouldn't…she wouldn't…

Quinn rested her forehead against the banister.

She wasn't upset with Rachel for not "putting out" or any other crude way of saying it…God, not even close. She meant it when she said she was okay to wait (eight years would have been a bit much, but still…), but just hearing that Rachel was holding back, holding her at arm's length still, when Quinn felt like she'd been scrubbed raw with how much she had managed to open herself up…how much she had let Rachel inside in a way she had never done for another human being in her life…

Now she found out that Rachel wasn't doing the same.

Could she blame her? Of course not.

But it still hurt. It hurt like hell and there was nothing Quinn could do about it.

When her foot touched the first stair, her heart started to race. Rachel was up there right now, just at the top, waiting for her, and she wanted to talk. There was something she was going to tell her, Quinn had heard it in her voice when they spoke on the phone.

She just didn't know if she could hear it. Rachel said she wasn't breaking up with her, but…that could have been a ruse just to get her back. No, even Rachel wouldn't do that. Besides, she could have just ended it over the phone anyway.

So Quinn made the climb, her body feeling heavy and sluggish with each step. When she reached the top, she was physically trembling.

Rachel's door was open and when Quinn walked in, she saw the brunette shaking her hair and running her fingers through the dark locks as the blow dryer roared. Knowing Rachel wouldn't be able to hear her over the noise, Quinn came up behind her and gently touched her shoulder.

Before she could say a word, the diva screamed and whirled around. Out of the corner of her eye, Quinn saw a shiny, black object flying at her head. Her vision flashed white before she went down like a sack of bricks.

"QUINN!"

The blonde held her head in her arms as she pressed her face into the floor, groaning in pain.

"DAMMIT TO HELL, RACHEL!"

Rachel, horrified by what had happened, dropped to her knees beside her with her hands on Quinn's back.

"Baby, I-I'm so sorry… I thought you were… You scared me! I didn't know… Are you alright? Should I call an ambulance? Did I break anything? Are you bleeding? You might have a concussion! We should go to the ER and have you looked at. I'll take you right now, we shouldn't wai-"

"Stop – talking," she growled.

Rachel immediately quieted.

"Godddddd…that hurt."

"Are you-"

"I said no talking!"

"But I'm just so sorr-"

"BE QUIET!"

Rachel was silent again, brushing away the few tears that escaped. The blonde finally managed to roll onto her back, still holding her head, wincing at the motion.

"Is it bad?" she asked, lifting her hands for a moment so Rachel could see and indeed there was a glaring red mark forming over her temple. "I feel a bump so it's probably showing…"

"Oh, Quinn!" she gasped and started to cry.

The blonde opened her eyes as best she could, her vision still a little blurry from the throbbing pain in her head, and managed to curl her arm around Rachel's waist and tug her down on the floor with her.

"Don't do that," she pleaded wearily. "It was an accident. Don't cry. You're making my head hurt even more now."

"I can't believe I hit you…"

"Well, you are crazy after all."

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Three."

"Do you hear me okay?"

"Unfortunately," she growled.

"I'm SO sorry, Quinn," she dropped her voice to a whisper.

"It was an accident."

"Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?"

"I'm sure I want an ice pack and your bed."

"I'll go get one for you right now! Do you want me to help you up first?"

"No. No, just leave me here for a minute."

"Okay!" She nodded frantically, relieved to finally be able to do something productive, and headed for the door. "But you can't fall asleep! Do not fall asleep, Quinn! If you have a concussion then you could slip into a co-"

"Rachel?"

"What is it? Do you need anything else? Are you experiencing any nausea? Because that's a sign of-"

"No," she said calmly, a clear contrast to the diva's spinning top impression, "just wanted to clarify that I need an ice pack and your bed…with you in it. T-that's doable, right?"

Rachel scrambled back down onto the floor to press a quick kiss to her lips.

"As if I would have it any other way."

Lying on the floor was making her dizzy so Quinn squeezed her eyes shut and tried to will the vicious throbbing pain in her head to go away. Rachel had gotten her but good with the damn hair dryer. The entire left side of her head was killing her. She realized that the floor was actually a lot more uncomfortable than she thought and heard Rachel's bed calling to her from above. Rather than sit up, she rolled over and pulled herself up by clawing the bedspread until she finally made it to the top. The room started spinning worse than ever so she quickly found the pillows and closed her eyes in relief.

Yes, the bed was definitely the better option.

Oh, damn, her head really hurt.

There were footsteps on the stairs and when they reached the room, Quinn didn't have to open her eyes to know when to cut Rachel off before she managed to say a word.

"I'm not sleeping."

There was a heavy sigh and then the mattress dipped under another weight. She felt something cool and covered with a cloth on her head, right above the throbbing.

"Is this okay?" Rachel whispered.

Quinn responded with a hum. With all the heat radiating from her head, the cool contrast felt good.

"Did I take too long? I would have helped you up. I knew I shouldn't have stopped for the water…"

"Shhh, I'm fine, just changed my mind and decided the floor wasn't as nice as this would be."

"I-I brought you some ibuprofen."

"Thanks."

"Can you sit up?"

"Can? Yes. Want to? No."

"It'll help the swelling."

Quinn kept her eyes closed as she propped herself up on her elbows, as far she was willing to go, and let Rachel feed her the medicine and hold the glass to her lips for her to drink until she finally got to lie down again.

Rachel left her side again, but before Quinn could protest, she felt her shoes being tugged off. Her socks followed. Before long, she had been tucked into the bed with the covers over her without ever having to do a thing. She snuggled further down into the pillows with a contented sigh. Rachel's scent surrounded her and she could have sworn it actually helped ease the pain…

"Quinn?"

"Yeah?"

"Why won't you look at me?"

"Things spin when I have my eyes open."

"Oh," she said quietly.

"Lay with me?"

As soon as she said it, Quinn had Rachel wrapped around her, warm and wonderful in her arms, and she smiled despite her aching head.

"Guess we're even for that time I punched you."

"Don't say that! I feel so terri-"

"I love you."

Rachel nuzzled her throat with a tiny huff of exasperation, knowing exactly what Quinn was doing – trying to distract her.

"I love you too, though you probably don't believe me since I just tried to break your skull with a scalding hair dryer."

"I believe you," she replied easily. "So how long are you going to make me stay awake before you're convinced I won't slip into a coma?"

"All night?"

"Rachel!"

"Okay, okay, just a few hours then."

Quinn groaned. Sleep sounded so good right now.

"Alright, then I guess this is your chance to tell me why you wanted me to come back."

There was a long stretch of silence and the arms around her tightened their embrace. She almost opened her eyes just to see what was going on with Rachel when she finally got an answer.

"It can wait until tomorrow."

"Is it something I should be worried about?"

Rachel chuckled softly against her. "No, not at all. I'm…I'm glad you came back, Quinn."

"I'm not."

"Hey!"

"Well, you knocked me out with a blow dryer!"

"By accident!"

"Still! You need to work on this paranoia issue. It's reached dangerous levels now. This bump should tell you that."

"I am so, so sorry, baby."

Quinn held her closer with a smile, even though her eyes were still firmly shut.

"I'm glad I came back too."

"Yeah?" Rachel whispered hopefully.

"Aside from the head injury? Yes… It means I get to spend the night with you again. How long has it been?"

"Too long."

The last thing the blonde remembered before she finally fell asleep was Rachel on number seventeen of her top thirty reasons why Quinn should watch Funny Girl.

She woke to the feeling of warm lips pressed against her shoulder. The feeling became more real and less of the dream as those lips found their way up her neck and over her jaw before brushing against her mouth.

It was perfect.

Then the pain came roaring back as she stirred into consciousness. The dull ache pressing against her skull was a thousand times worse than anything she felt during her worst hangover.

Not so perfect.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I got conked on the head by a psychotic Broadway diva wannabe."

"I don't appreciate that characterization," she huffed. "I am CERTAINLY not a mere 'wannabe', but a star in the making. There is a hugely significant difference between the two, as one implies-"

"So the psychotic part you don't object to?"

She glowered at her. "I'm offended by everything you just said. Really, Quinn! So I was a bit jumpy… I mean, I did warn you I was afraid to be alone!"

"Oh, so it's my fault?"

"Of course not, it's just…okay fine! A psychotic person conked you on the head, but she's all gone now."

"Good, cause she hits hard." Quinn sighed. "So it looks like I didn't slip into a coma."

"Please don't joke about that," Rachel whispered. "I woke you up three times last night just to be certain."

"Oh, I didn't forget. Trust me. I was equally pissed off with you each time."

"I was trying to keep you alive!"

"So you say…" she mumbled with a groan and turned over on her side.

When she finally opened her eyes, she found the room still dark. Rachel had thoughtfully pulled the shades. It was a relief for her pounding head.

"Why are you already dressed?" Quinn wondered aloud with a frown. "What time is it?"

"Almost 8," she replied, glancing over her shoulder at the clock.

"Rachellllll," she groaned. "We've had this discussion! Now that I'm not on the Cheerios anymore, I do NOT wake up before ten on the weekend!"

"I know, I know," she rolled her eyes and kissed Quinn's cheek with a smile. "You can go right back to sleep again, baby. I just wanted to get breakfast for us. What would you like? I have to go out since we don't have much in the way of non vegan food here…"

"You're going to Charlie's for me?"

"Where else would I go?"

"Best girlfriend ever…" Quinn muttered into the pillow, still half asleep.

"I think I lost points when I clobbered you over the head with a blunt object last night."

"This will make up for it."

"My thoughts exactly! Now, would you like your usual?"

"Please."

"Coffee?"

"Desperately."

"Decaf?"

"I'm sorry, did I get it wrong? Were you the one who sustained a head injury last night?"

"Just making sure…" Rachel giggled and ran her fingers through Quinn's hair. "Now you can go back to sleep."

"Luff' you," she mumbled, already drifting.

"I love you too."

"Rach?"

"Hm?"

"You didn't just wake me up to see what I wanted for breakfast. You were checking again to make sure I wasn't in a coma, weren't you?"

"I'm keeping you alive!"

"Just go get the food."

Quinn wasn't really able to go back to sleep after Rachel left. She tried for a while, but her head was pounding too much to let her back into that painless slumber. When she heard Rachel moving around downstairs, she decided to give up on it altogether and slowly pushed herself up off the bed. She did it slowly, no sudden movements, and everything seemed to hold together well enough. At least she wasn't dizzy anymore.

When she finally got to her feet, she looked down to see that she was still wearing the same dress from yesterday. Feeling gross, she decided to get in the shower first. It felt good to have the water sliding over her body, but she used the gentlest touch to wash her hair. Clean and refreshed, Quinn was loath to put on the dress again so she opted to snag some of Rachel's clothes. They could never exactly share much because anything of Rachel's was at least two sizes too small for Quinn, which was exactly why Rachel shamelessly pushed Quinn to wear her clothes more often. There was also that problem where Rachel's fashion sense tended to cater to perverse male fantasies of underage girls in plaid skirts…well, maybe she was a pervert too because she really…really loved those miniskirts. Even the animal sweaters were growing on her. She still couldn't handle the argyle though. Something had to be done about that and soon.

The blonde smiled to herself as she pulled on a pair of pajama shorts that were actually loose on Rachel, but left nothing to the imagination on Quinn, as well as a too-small black sweater, the sleeves and torso of which were too short, showing a sliver of her stomach.

She almost laughed, knowing what the look on her girlfriend's face would be when she went downstairs. It was no secret why Rachel loved it when Quinn wore her clothes.

She made her way down the stairs slowly, her hair still wet from the shower, and suddenly froze before going into the kitchen where she could hear Rachel puttering about.

Crap!

What was she thinking putting on these clothes? It was an obvious tease! Before last night, it would have been a welcome flirtation, but now? How could she parade around like this when they had just gotten into a fight about the very thing Quinn was about to flaunt… Why hadn't she thought this through? She could be so stupid sometimes…

Quinn tugged the sweater down anxiously, as if it would help cover her more somehow, and shifted back and forth on her feet as she debated whether or not to just go back upstairs and put on her dress again.

They had put aside their conflict last night for the sake of Quinn's injury, but she knew Rachel would want to talk about it this morning. When the nerves started again, so did her heart, and all that blood pumping through her just made her head throb to the point of dizziness again.

To hell with it.

The clothes wouldn't be that big of a deal. She really needed to calm down. They could talk about this. It didn't have to be this huge dark cloud looming over them.

So Rachel still didn't trust her. That was fair. Quinn was just going to have to live with it until one day…maybe…that would change. That is if…well, if Rachel still wanted this…if Rachel still wanted her when all was said and done. Clothes were clothes; it didn't mean she was insinuating or pushing anything. Rachel would know that – she wasn't a hormone-addled, dunce-headed teenage boy that couldn't see beyond how high a girl's skirt went and how low her shirt cut – she was Rachel and she would understand that Quinn wasn't trying anything.

She would understand, right?

Summoning her courage, Quinn threw her thoughts aside and walked into the kitchen with a frantically pounding heart. Rachel turned around, nearly dropping the plate in her hands when she saw what Quinn was wearing. The blonde giggled discreetly, covering it with a tiny cough.

It seems that was all she needed to ease her nerves. Those large brown eyes, round as saucers, unable to tear her eyes away from Quinn. Her gaze roamed greedily up and down the length of her body before finally, after a noticeably long time, settling on her face. It was just what Quinn had been hoping for – no worried or panicked expressions - just this, just love, just desire. She breathed that much easier for it. Maybe things last night hadn't been as serious as she made them out to be.

"You're up," Rachel said hoarsely, putting the plate down with shaking hands, and taking a deep breath.

"Couldn't go back to sleep."

"Because of your head?"

Quinn nodded and Rachel immediately sprung to action, as if she were desperate for something to do other than gawk, searching through the cabinets for something.

"It's okay that I borrowed your clothes, right?" she asked innocently. "I didn't bring anything else to wear…"

A few things fell out of the cabinet, clattering on the countertop and Quinn giggled again.

"O-of course!" Rachel squeaked. "You're welcome to whatever you – I mean, it's fine! Just fine! Perfect even." She quickly shoved the fallen items back in again before finally finding what she was looking for.

"Perfect?" Quinn raised an eyebrow.

The brunette's cheeks flushed scarlet, but she didn't reply. Instead she came over to where Quinn had seated herself at the counter and handed her a pill from a prescription bottle.

"Take that. It's a mild painkiller. My Dad keeps it on hand for when his knee is particularly bothering him. It's not going to make you loopy or anything, but it should help. I don't make it a habit to give out prescription medicine that hasn't been explicitly assigned by a licensed medical professional, but-"

"But you feel so guilty for hitting me that this will be the exception to the rule?" Quinn finished for her with a knowing smirk.

"Just take it."

"I trust you." She smiled and took the water Rachel offered her as well, gulping it down.

"Drink the whole glass, okay? And we need to get some food in your stomach fast."

"Yes, mother…"

Rachel threw her a nasty look, but Quinn could only grin like an idiot for how giddy she felt. Sometimes that girl was too adorable for her own good.

"It's not broken, by the way," Rachel said.

"My head?"

"My hair dryer. It's working just fine. I tested it down here while you were asleep."

Quinn narrowed her eyes. "Well, I'm glad to see you have your priorities in order…my brain versus your precious weapon of mass destruction."

Rachel made a face. "Please. Let's not descend into histrionics here. Weapon of mass destruction?"

"My head. My bump. My rules," Quinn replied stubbornly. "That's what I'm calling it."

The brunette laughed and threw a napkin at her.

They ate breakfast together in a relatively comfortable silence, only a few words spoken here and there. Quinn was relieved that Rachel was at least giving her time to have coffee first before starting in on the talk she knew the diva was bursting at the seams to have.

But breakfast came and went. Rachel cleaned up while Quinn sat on pins and needles, just waiting for the moment she would spin around and start throwing out the questions or maybe begin with a ridiculously long speech she'd been planning since last night to admonish Quinn for her behavior, including the history of their relationship, all the mistakes Quinn had made, in excruciating detail until the blonde was begging for mercy…and then Rachel would start making her demands.

No more Sam-shield, everyone had to know about them if Quinn wanted to be with her, sex notwithstanding. Come out to the school. Come out to her…parents… Quinn was so grateful for that painkiller because if her head was still throbbing like it was before, she'd be throwing up right now.

The kitchen was clean. The dishes were dried and put away. Rachel was talking about picking something up at the mall and studying for their history test on Monday. There was no hint that last night was on the brunette's mind. Quinn was genuinely baffled.

Was she planning to ignore what had happened between them last night?

It was against everything Quinn knew about her! Rachel was always the first to want to talk about things. Rachel was always the first to attack every issue, no matter how sensitive or painful it might be. And she tended to do so in the bluntest of possible ways. Tact just wasn't in her repertoire.

Quinn just watched in stunned disbelief as Rachel walked out of the kitchen saying that she was going to get her purse, telling Quinn she should try to find something more appropriate to wear since they were going out.

She really was going to pretend like nothing ever happened?

No way. Not a chance. This had to be dealt with! How could Rachel possibly think they could just…

Quinn practically ran up the stairs to Rachel's bedroom again where the brunette was looking around for her bag.

"Are you serious?"

Rachel looked up at her with a frown. "Huh?"

"Are you serious?" she repeated plainly. "You're just going to ignore what happened yesterday? Act like we didn't almost…or that we didn't have that fight?"

"Quinn…" she said with a soft smile, not seeming to be bothered in the least, "I wasn't going to forget about it. I just thought… Well, I wanted to wait until you were feeling better before revisiting the issue."

"I FEEL FINE!"

Quinn knew she was getting a little too manic about this, but she couldn't help it. Her nerves were so frayed right now. She just needed this settled. She needed them to be okay. She wanted her footing again.

"Oh, good! The medicine is helping then?"

"Rachel!"

She laughed, still bafflingly unperturbed by Quinn's neurotic behavior, and walked over to her, taking her hands in hers. At her touch, soft and warm, fitting perfectly as always, Quinn couldn't help but feel as though she were being pulled from the ledge, back to safety and reality once more.

"Baby, please calm down," Rachel smiled and kissed her sweetly. "We can talk about it now if you need to."

"I…I…I need to," she stammered, more confused than ever.

What was going on here? Why was she the hysterical one? When did the roles reverse and Quinn became the high strung girlfriend who needed to talk about everything?

"Okay, I'll go first then," Rachel said with a nod and led a befuddled Quinn to sit down on the bed while she stood in front of her. "You were right last night."

"Rach, no, you-" Quinn immediately tried to protest, but the diva would have none of it.

"You said you wanted to talk, so we're going to talk!" she said sternly. "Be quiet and let me say this."

The blonde frowned, but said no more. Already she hated where this was going. It was not going to be like this! She wouldn't allow it! No matter what Rachel said, she was going to be very clear who was at fault here and it was not Rachel.

"You were right…" she repeated when she was sure Quinn wasn't going to interrupt again, "about me holding back. I want to make love with you Quinn. I'm ready for it. I have been for a while. But I had this fantasy in my head that when we finally took that step, Sam wouldn't be in the picture. Our friends and family would know about us; they would know we're in love, that we're leaving Lima together… I think I started dreaming about it before you broke up with Sam the first time." She chuckled softly to herself. "Maybe even way before that. It was just silly daydreaming, you know? I never thought it could be real…or even close to real. Then we started to get to know each other better, we were dating, and still I had the same idea, only I held on to it a little tighter each day, thinking maybe…just maybe…it didn't have to be a fantasy after all. I'm not wrong to want that, Quinn."

"No, of course not." Quinn's heart broke a little as she said the words. "Rachel, you deserve so much more th-"

"I'm not finished."

The blonde closed her mouth.

"But I realized last night that I was holding on to something, not willing to give unless it was in exchange for something else. You have to believe me when I tell you that I honestly didn't know I was doing it."

"I know that." She nodded. "I know you didn't mean to."

"I want you so much…all the time… All day long, you are constantly in my thoughts, and at night, you're in my dreams as well. When you touch me…when you kiss me…"

Quinn sucked in a breath.

"I want it, Quinn. I want you so badly. I know all I have to do is say yes and I could have all of you, with you, but I stop myself."

Rachel sighed and crossed her arms sadly, looking away.

"Because somewhere in the back of my head, I always think, 'If I just wait a little longer…then she'll see…then she might want me enough to overcome her fears and let people know. We could be together for everyone to see. If only I wait a little longer…'" Rachel turned back to face her. "But I can't do that anymore."

"Y-you can't…?" Quinn stuttered fearfully, fear threatening to close her throat.

"It just doesn't make sense. Why am I denying myself something that we both want so much? We're so ready to share ourselves in that way with each other, the most intimate, precious bond we could have, and I continue to hold on to some childish fantasy ideal? I believe in you, Quinn. I know one day you'll be able to show your true self to the world, but if I'm the only one you can do that for right now, then how can I refuse? I want you, all of you, and I don't want to wait anymore."

Quinn had never been more grateful to be sitting down in her life. Her vision wavered as she tried to take it all in, but she had scarcely a moment. Rachel's delicious mouth was suddenly on hers, lips pressing insistently, demandingly, searchingly. Before she could process a single thought, Quinn was on her back and Rachel was straddling her waist, kissing her breathless.

For a moment she almost let herself get swept away by that mouth, those hands… But before Quinn lost herself to the abyss, she grasped on to the last bit of sanity she had and tore herself out from beneath the brunette. Stumbling, she almost fell off the bed in an effort to put some distance between them, and she threw herself against the wall on the opposite side – as far away from Rachel as the bedroom would allow.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" she shrieked.

Panic was all she could feel right now, that and utter bewilderment.

"Quinn…wha…" Rachel panted looking at her with wide-eyes, in the same position as if Quinn were still beneath her.

"NO!" she shouted angrily. "We're not doing this! I won't let you. Goddammit, Rachel! What were you thinking?"

The brunette just stared at her, looking more and more hurt by the second. Quinn's head was reeling, whether from the painkiller or Rachel's kisses, she didn't know.

Oh my God…

"Is that why you gave me that pill?"

Something in the back of her mind warned her she was going off the rails now, but she couldn't stop.

"You wanted me off guard so you could seduce me?"

"QUINN!" Rachel leapt off the bed like she'd been burned and openly gaped at her. "Have you lost all sanity? Do you hear yourself!"

"YOU SAID YOU WANTED TO WAIT!"

"I CHANGED MY MIND!"

"BECAUSE I PUSHED YOU INTO IT!"

"BUT YOU DIDN'T!"

Rachel stopped to take a deep, calming breath.

"God, Quinn! You didn't push me, not at all. This is something I want, something I've wanted for a while. Didn't you listen to a thing I said?"

The blonde shook her head furiously, still clinging to the wall as if it were her only saving grace.

"You were right last night! You were right. It's not fair to you and I shouldn't have reacted that way. How can you say… It shouldn't be a fantasy, Rachel! It's what you should have! It's what's normal! Because what's happening now isn't normal!"

Tears appeared in Rachel's eyes as she slumped down on the bed and Quinn slapped her hand to her forehead, crying out at the pain shooting through her skull as a result.

Stupid freaking hair dryer…

"Not us!" she cried, strained. "I didn't mean us, Rach, I meant the situation – what I've put you through, how things are right now. I have a boyfriend even though I'm completely, ridiculously, madly in love with another girl. And no one gets to know that! Not friends, not family, no one. It's wrong and you shouldn't have to put up with it, but you do. I'm not going to let what I did last night push you into making a decision you'll regret. I shouldn't have walked out. I'm sorry. This is my fault, Rachel. I won't let you do this. Not this way. When I can give you that, what you want and deserve, a public relationship…my hand to hold whenever you want it…then we can talk about this again."

"So this is yet another decision you're going to make for me?" Rachel's nostril's flared hotly as she clenched her fists at her side. "It's my choice, Quinn!"

"But you're only doing this because of how I reacted last night!" she shot back. "It wasn't about sex, Rachel. It was about us. It hurt to know...that you were holding back. Can you understand that?"

"You hold things back from me too, Quinn."

She nodded shakily. "But I've also given you more of me than I've ever…with anyone…"

Rachel sighed and rubbed her eyes wearily. Quinn still stayed plastered to the wall, but she was breathing easier now. It was as if the room was settling itself back down to its rightful place again, cool and quiet, after a firestorm just came tearing through.

"Do you really think I tried to drug you so I could convince you to have sex with me?" she asked quietly.

Quinn groaned softly.

What had she been thinking? How could she have entertained the mere thought, let alone let it come out of her mouth! It was just that her head still hurt and her brain was a little fuzzy from the medicine and then Rachel started saying all those things…

"Oh," she gulped. "Uh…no, s-sorry, I got a little crazy for a minute there."

Rachel nodded curtly. "We're really going to have to reconsider who's the melodramatic one in this relationship."

"You might be right."

"Because I swear I just wanted you to feel better. I wasn't even planning on doing this today. I wanted to wait for the right time to tell you, not when you're still suffering from an assault. I shouldn't have said anything, I should have waited. You're obviously under a great deal of stress…"

"Rach, don't," she begged. "I swear I was just being crazy. You…you caught me off guard. I don't handle surprises very well - even good ones."

"So I'm learning." She tucked her hands underneath her legs. "Definitely never planning any surprise birthday parties for you."

"I'm sorry."

Silence passed through the room, thick and disquieting. Quinn didn't know what to do, what to say. Rachel was only staring at the floor now. She wanted so badly to say something, something comforting, something reassuring, but her mouth only opened and closed uselessly.

After a while, Rachel's voice came, soft and timid, "Is this really happening? A-are you turning me down when I just opened myself up to you, told you that I love you…and that I-I want you to be my first? Are you rejecting me, Quinn?"

"T-t-that's not…!" Her eyes widened in horror. "Is that guilt? You're guilting me now? Oh my God! That is so freaking wrong - on so many levels - and completely unfair. You know that's not what this is about!"

"It's Jewish guilt. I can use it whenever I want," she retorted with a sniff and then rolled her eyes, getting to her feet. "Stop being so silly, Quinn. I understand you're concerned that this is a result of your storm out last night, but get over it."

Indignant, she opened her mouth to protest, but Rachel took a few quick steps that closed the distance between them. Then she was so close Quinn could smell her all around again, those beautiful doe eyes staring right up into her, through her. All the words flew out of her head and her sweaty palms grasped desperately at the wall.

"We love each other. We want each other. We've known each other for years. We've been together for a significant period of time…I'm ready, I know you are too. The rest will come later. You may still be holding things back from me, Quinn, but I've made a decision to trust you - whether you like it or not. It's my choice. When you're ready…and I know you will be one day…we'll have all of those things we talked about, but for right now? Let us have this."

"But…you said…"

"A person can change her mind."

"It's only because of what I did."

"Yes. In a way, it is," she admitted. "If we hadn't talked about it, I wouldn't have had to force myself to truly consider my motivations. You're not pushing me into anything, Quinn. If anything, look at you," she gestured to the blonde's frozen stance against the wall, "you're pushing me away. This isn't about me giving you something you want…okay? It's about me letting myself have something I want. Do you see that?" She leaned in closer and Quinn could feel her breath on her skin. "And luckily enough, our desires just happen to coincide with each other perfectly."

Rachel's lips pressed against hers again, gently this time, a ghost of a kiss that was too much and not enough all at the same time.

Her resolve was weakening. Her palms left the cool wall for Rachel's cheeks, stroking the soft skin there with the pads of her thumbs.

"Tell me you don't want this."

Quinn almost cried tears of frustration. She had been so determined not to let this happen, not to let Rachel make this mistake, but how could she resist this anymore? Rachel was asking for everything Quinn wanted to give. How could she deny her? What was the right thing? Was she supposed to be chivalrous? Tell her no? Make the decision for them? Or was she going to trust that Rachel knew what she wanted, that she wouldn't regret it…that she really was going to trust her?

Biting her bottom lip hard, Quinn shook her head. "I can't tell you that," she whispered hoarsely.

"Then make love to me."

"A-are you sure?" she said pleadingly, begging with her eyes and her heart just one more time, giving her one more chance to change her mind.

Rachel said nothing, but Quinn heard everything.

The brunette led her over to the bed, gently encouraging Quinn to sit down once more. When she felt the mattress beneath her, everything started to slip away, but she desperately tried to hold on with every last bit of strength she had.

"Rach, please, we don't have to…I love you. I'll wait, just like you're waiting for me."

"No more waiting, not for this," she said with a loving smile and unbuttoned her shirt before pulling off Quinn's borrowed sweater.

They were falling back on the bed together, a tangled, glorious mess, but still Quinn couldn't bring herself to believe this was happening, that it was real, that it wouldn't go away, now or tomorrow, or forever…that it wouldn't be a mistake. Rachel's hands were running over Quinn's body slowly, exploring with leisure, giving Quinn comfort she didn't even know she needed.

"Tell me you love me again," Rachel said against her ear.

She could say it always, as many times, for as long as Rachel wanted to hear it, and mean it with every fiber of her being.

"I love you."

Her beautiful face hovered above her, dark hair cascading down like curtains so that there was only one thing for Quinn to see. She looked deep into the eyes that made her tremble under their intensity.

"Then love me."

And so the last of it fell away.

There was nothing left to hold on to but her.

Chapter Text

Quinn slid her hands into the thick, silky brunette hair and pulled Rachel back to her mouth fiercely. She didn't know how long they'd been going like this and she didn't care. Both girls were stripped down to nothing put panties once again, the same place they'd been last time before Leroy popped up to stop them, or stop Rachel really.

Quinn was straddling the diva's legs, letting the full weight of her body rest on the smaller girl. Rachel always made the best sound when she did that. As their tongues played again and again, she relished the feeling of an almost completely naked Rachel writhing beneath her, hot and soft, thrusting up against her as if her body had a mind of its own, demanding Quinn's in return. She had never known such pleasure before with anyone else. Not even close. She hadn't even known it was possible.

Rachel's tongue swept inside her mouth playfully and Quinn seized her chance to suck on it, but released it with a gasp because Rachel had dragged her nails hard down her back.

"I love it when you do that," the brunette mumbled and nipped Quinn's throat just a little harder than usual.

Shivering from the leftover burn on her skin, Quinn brushed the hair away from Rachel's shoulder and promptly returned the bite in kind. The brunette yelped and then giggled, wrapping her arms around Quinn's torso to hold her closer.

Out of nothing more than instinct, desire, and perhaps just pure curiosity, Quinn snaked her hand between them and groaned loudly into Rachel's mouth when she came into contact with the soaking wet cotton.

All for her…

Tentatively…testingly…Quinn used her fingers to rub against the wetness through the fabric. Mewling, Rachel clutched Quinn fiercely and rocked her hips against the touch.

"More."

She had never heard Rachel sound like that before. She was so vulnerable, so utterly wanting, so trusting, so open to anything and everything Quinn would do.

It was then that Quinn suddenly froze and broke out into a cold sweat. She knew just then what they were about to do and now there was a gut wrenching realization that she didn't know howto do what they were going to do!

She'd wanted Rachel sexually for...well for such a really freaking long time now that she let herself admit it, but even in pursuing this relationship, all the heated, intimate moments, she never quite thought it through. She knew what she wanted from Rachel and with Rachel, but it was in this sort of vague and abstract way. It was hard to explain, but she knew the end result desired, that there was supposed to be a release, but the technicalitiesof how to get there? She didn't know! She didn't know anything! How could she make love to Rachel without knowing what to do specifically to please her? Sex with Puck was entirely different (and oh-so brief). She just laid there while he did what he did and then it was over. If it weren't for the soreness the next day and the belly that followed those months, she would have hardly remembered anything about it all. It wouldn't have even existed.

This was all new. This was something she hadn't done before. Puck didn't count - how could something that went on for hardly a minute count in that way? She'd suffered the price, of course, but none of the pleasure.

For all intents and purposes, she really was a virgin here with Rachel now and she was utterly, utterly at a loss. She almost sobbed when the fear washed over her and buried her face against Rachel's neck, hoping to hide there somehow. She didn't want to mess this up! How could she have allowed herself to get this far so blindly?

At that moment she found herself desperately wishing she had listened to more of Santana's crude tales and Brittany's innocent comments about 'sweet lady kisses' instead of blocking them out like the good little Christian girl she was. Her limited knowledge of dry humping came from unwanted experiences with Finn. He couldn't seem to help himself really and before Quinn could even get a chance to protest he would be shouting "Mailman!" and have to run out with a dark stain on his pants. It was absolutely revolting and that had been the extent of her sexual experiences up until now. Puck was one night and some minor kissing in the aftermath when she tried to make it work (stupidly so). Sam had always been kept at arm's length. That was it. Then there was her.

Rachel deserved her first time to be better than just some clumsy, inept fumbling that would inevitably leave them both red-faced with embarrassment. Fearful and ashamed, Quinn moved her hand away, finding a safe place to rest on Rachel's shoulder. She was already trying to plan ahead to figure out how she was going to do this. Was she going to have to watch porn? Oh, God help her, she didn't want to do that. Was there like an instruction manual online or something...?

So lost in her own terrified musings, she didn't notice how Rachel was gently urging her to turn over and laying Quinn down on her back so that she was on top until the sound of her voice softly calling brought her back.

"Quinn...talk to me."

She looked up at Rachel miserably.

Why was she always so stupid? So selfish? So wrong? When was she ever going to do the right thing, for once in her life?

"Is it too much?" Rachel asked nervously. "I-I thought we were on the same page, that you said you were ready, but it's okay if you're not..."

"But I am!" she wailed in frustration, tears close, but not quite there yet.

"Did I push? Oh! I did, didn't I? I wasn't thinking! Quinn, I'm sorry, I only thought you were refusing because of me, but I should have-"

"That's not it!"

Rachel looked at her warily and then her gaze dropped so she was no longer meeting Quinn's eyes. She covered her bare chest with her arms, seeming to want to curl into herself as much as possible. Right then, she could see that sad look of defeat, of shame, washing over the smaller girl. It was the same look she had when the Glee club would collectively try to crush her beneath their heel, the same look she had when Finn would make her feel ashamed of who she was. It was the look Quinn hated more than anything in the world and she had just caused it…again.

"W-well what is it then? Is it me? D-do you not want-"

"Finish that and I just might slap you."

Her eyes widened a bit. "Okayyyy," she said with a hint of exasperation, "then can I perhaps garner a clue here? While admittedly slightly psychic, I do not retain the full ability to read minds. I remind you, I'm very naked and thus extremely vulnerable at the moment so my thoughts will immediately jump to include the worst so please, please say something and save me from all the awful things going through my head now if they're not the truth."

"I'm scared," she whispered.

"I'm scared too."

"I'm afraid I won't be good. I-I-I don't know how...how to do this."

"We'll find out together."

Rachel carefully lay down on top of her, letting their naked bodies meet again, and Quinn swallowed hard. Her hands automatically went to Rachel's back, pulling her in closer, while Rachel smiled at her, stroking Quinn's hair soothingly before tucking it back behind her ear. She looked up into those dark eyes and she saw trust, she saw love, and she saw beauty…such…such beauty.

Could a person like this, like Rachel Berry, truly exist for her?

"But I haven't...I mean, I REALLYdon't know how this works." She struggled to find a way to explain it. How was she going to actually say the words? "I don't know what to do!"

Rachel dropped her lips to the curve of Quinn's collarbone, the light brush of those perfect, plump lips against her skin made Quinn shiver. The brunette sighed and perched her chin on her hand as she looked down at her.

"It's not like I'm experienced in this either," she said tenderly. "Maybe j-just think about what you do when you please yourself and apply it here?"

"That's just it, I-I've never..." Quinn gulped, blushing furiously, unable to finish the sentence.

Realization visibly washed over Rachel's features and she lifted herself up on her arms. Quinn watched her brow go from furrowed sadness to smooth shock.

"Quinn! You mean to tell me that you've never masturbated before?"

"Oh God..." she groaned in humiliation, wanting nothing more than to smother herself with a pillow.

Death was preferable over this.

Quinn had never let herself go there. All the things she had been told as a child in Sunday school, by her mother, by her pastor… It was a sin. It was wrong. You were dirty and evil if you did it. You were a pervert. Pleasure like that could only be experienced in the marital bed, but they'd never even mentioned pleasure – it was always responsibility or duty, a function she was supposed to perform as a wife and nothing more. For all that Quinn tried to let go of what had been so deeply instilled in her, this was still a roadblock. Every time she came close to caving, to letting her hands go there when she was alone in bed after a night, or, God, just a few minutes alone, with Rachel…she couldn't bring herself to do it. All the old adages piled on her again and refused to leave until she either took a cold shower or simply willed herself to sleep.

"I don't... I don't..." Rachel stammered in disbelief. "How have you been coping with all that we've been doing these last few months? I would have died not being able to find release after our extremely heated time together..."

"Y-you do that?" Quinn stammered in amazement. "After we...?"

"Of course! Our encounters always leave me so acutely aroused, it's as if I have no other choice."

She swallowed hard as that sent a lightning bolt to her already throbbing core. Her mind was filled with images of Rachel, her hair mussed and lips swollen from Quinn's kisses, with her hand between her legs…moaning Quinn's name…

"I just assumed that... How have you been able to deal with it then? I would have lost my mind!"

"I dunno," she muttered almost incomprehensibly. "Just with Cheerios practice and cold showers..."

Actually, Quinn couldn't remember the last time she had taken a WARM shower. She'd just gotten so used to needing...

"Cheerios practice?" Rachel echoed with a deep frown. "Please tell me that-"

"The work out, Rach." Quinn smiled despite herself at the brunette's displeasure. "You know, exercise? I would even run suicides with the freshman when I didn't have to. Lots of energy to burn..."

"I see..."

"S-so we should hold off, I think, because I need to find out-"

The diva cut her off with a searing kiss that left Quinn breathless and writhing beneath her.

"We are NOT holding off on anything. But I do want you to promise me something."

"Anything."

She sincerely meant it. In this state, she'd do anything Rachel asked even if it meant stalking Barbra Streisand for weeks just to steal a lock of her hair…

"You need to be able to do that with yourself…please yourself I mean. I understand from my limited knowledge of your conservative upbringing that you've been taught it's a sin, but Quinn, remember how many other things you've been taught to be ashamed of but know now that you shouldn't be?"

"This is so embarrassing," she whined.

"It's only natural. And if it makes you feel better, you can think of it as practice."

"Practice?" Her eyebrow rose curiously.

"You need to know what pleases you, baby, and it'll also teach you how to please me better."

That didn't sound so bad. If it was just practicing for Rachel…she could do that…

"Do you k-know how this..."

Rachel's cheeks went red, but she gave no other sign of embarrassment as she admitted that she had indeed researched it. Quinn laughed heartily and wrapped her arms around the smaller girl, pulling her back down again. Despite the tension and humiliation she felt right now, hearing about Rachel doing something so perfectly Rachel was just a delightful distraction and lifted away the heaviness that threatened to crush her.

She was still laughing when lips met hers in a gentle caress, slowly easing away the giggling laughter. Rachel kissed her sweetly, lightly, as though they were starting all over again and hadn't been rolling around in this bed for…however long it'd been by now. It didn't take long for her body to ignite again and the kiss deepened. Rachel slanted her mouth over hers, drawing in Quinn's lips and tongue over and over again with such practiced ease that she found every spot to make Quinn heady with desire in a matter of seconds.

Their hands were traveling again, groping at each other for whatever flesh they could find and wanting even more of it. Rachel was fully on top of Quinn now, nestled between the blonde's legs and Quinn let her legs fall open further and hooked her ankle around Rachel's waist just to feel her more where she so desperately needed.

Rachel pulled back with a shaky breath, chewing on her bottom lip. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes dark as she looked to Quinn for permission.

"Is it okay?"

The blonde nodded. "W-will you show me…what you like?" she asked nervously. "H-how you do it, I mean."

Show me how you touch yourself. Show me what you like. I have to know. I'll make you feel good, Rachel. I swear it. I'll do anything. Just show me how.

With a tremulous, but reassuring smile, Rachel slipped her hand between them, taking her time to trail between the valley of Quinn's breasts, sliding across her belly, before dipping down to cup the heat between her legs. They gasped simultaneously, Rachel at feeling the wetness there and Quinn at the shock of how such a simple action caused tremors to course through her entire body. She was bucking into Rachel's hand before she even knew what she was doing, desperate and whining for more of her touch, more pressure, more everything!

Rachel's mouth formed a 'o' shape as she looked down to see the undoubtedly large dark patch on Quinn's underwear. Her fingers were doing something magical, massaging her through the fabric and Quinn felt that pressure coiling low in her stomach.

Did Rachel like it as much as she had? Did it make Rachel feel the same as Quinn had when she got to touch her there? To see the effect she had on her?

Quinn could hardly think straight anymore. She needed something, anything, and she needed it now.

"Rach…"

Without a word or even a glance back up, the brunette shifted away from Quinn and pulled off her panties in one sweeping motion. She didn't have time to feel embarrassed at being so naked because Rachel had slipped her fingers into the wet heat to stroke her. Quinn's hips came off the mattress with a start.

"Oh, Quinn…" the brunette sighed.

She barely heard her. All she could think or feel were Rachel's fingers doing something incredible between her legs. No one had ever touched her like this. Puck had tried, but Quinn just batted him away and said to get on with it.

It...felt…so…good.

Rachel watched the blonde intently, determined to make this as thrillingly pleasurable as possible for Quinn, especially after having just found out how truly sexually repressed her girlfriend was. It wasn't even just about them having this together, sharing this intimacy, but also just to give Quinn the attention and pleasure she deserved to experience, but she nearly lost all composure when Quinn arched her back, her breasts rising into the air, her incredible body stretched out and open before her. Quinn stared wide eyed at the ceiling with her mouth open as if she were in some state of shock, her cheeks a ruddy color that only served to make her that much more beautiful… Rachel had never seen anything so erotic, her hand between Quinn's spread legs, the blonde clutching everywhere she could and never finding the right place. When she left the sheets and brushed her hands over her own breasts with a breathy moan, tossing her head to the side, Rachel thought she might just come right then and there.

No. She had to be good. This had to be good for Quinn. She couldn't bear to let her down, but the throbbing between her legs was growing worse, her nipples were so tight they ached, and she wanted nothing more than to jump on Quinn and ride her for dear life. She wasn't exactly sure how that would work, but it sounded like a really good idea.

God, those should be her hands on her. She should be the one caressing those beautiful breasts, how soft and smooth, before she reached those straining peaks. She should be tasting every inch of her. Rachel's mouth watered at the thought of being able to find out what Quinn really tasted like, she could smell her everywhere…but that was too much too soon. She was getting ahead of herself.

Just take it slow, like you always do with Quinn. You know how. Just take it slow.

Instead Rachel found herself licking and biting at the blonde's trim stomach, tracing the curve of her hips with her mouth. What on earth had Quinn been talking about? What could her body have been like before? She was nothing short of utterly flawless. Was it those faint lines that marked where her belly had swollen once that had Quinn feeling so insecure? How could that possibly be it? Rachel was certain her girlfriend was off her rocker to think something as ludicrously insignificant, barely even NOTICEABLE, as that would make her any less desirable or perfect in her eyes. Instead, she chose to pay special attention to those lines, determined to show Quinn exactly what she thought. The blonde ineffectually tried to pull her away, but Rachel refused, and instead let her free hand make its way back up to palm those utterly perfect globes again, taking the hardened nipples between her fingers just to hear Quinn moan even more.

"Do you want me, Quinn?" she rasped, her voice sounding deeper than she'd ever heard it go.

That was something new. And apparently it had a profound effect on Quinn whose eyes nearly rolled in the back of her head as she whimpered out a "yes".

"Tell me."

"I w-want you."

"Just me?"

The brunette licked her lips eagerly, working her fingers a little more quickly now. This was good, talking helped her focus. She could think better, control things more.

"Just you. Always you."

"You feel so amazing, Quinn," she said huskily. "Do you like what I'm doing to you?"

The blonde just nodded fiercely, thrashing around on the bed a little. Rachel watched her in sheer wonderment, the wetness pooled between her thighs as she saw the effect she was having on this…this gorgeous creature. It was Quinn Fabray, flushed and panting and moaning, all because of her. All because of Rachel.

She knew she would never want anything more than this. There was nothing more than this.

When her thumb brushed against that bundle of nerves again, the blonde suddenly launched upwards and yanked Rachel into her arms so she was straddling Quinn. Lips and tongue crashed together as Quinn kissed Rachel with all she had. Quinn wanted to feel every part of her; she wanted more, so much more. She never knew such wanton greediness such as this. Her hips rocked against the delicious friction Rachel caused as she teased her.

She pulled her roughly back down on the bed with her, Rachel's hand still firmly between her legs.

"Ah!" the brunette gasped and moved just out of reach when Quinn's hands, as if with a mind of their own, caressed her breasts and slipped between Rachel's thighs. "Quinn, stop that!" she said sternly. "I have to concentrate on what I'm doing!"

If she hadn't been so utterly desperate with need right then, Quinn would have had the sense enough to laugh.

"Then do it," she groaned, sliding her hands up and down the smooth, heated flesh of Rachel's back and buried her face in the crook of her neck, sucking hard before letting her tongue and lips take over to taste every inch of that spot.

Rachel moaned and used her free hand to seize Quinn's hair. It was the same spot Quinn had found all those months ago…their very first time together in this bed…and it was still every bit as sensitive as it was then. Rachel's grip was so tight it hurt, but Quinn didn't care, it only spurred her further.

Inside. Inside. Inside.

It was all she could think of. Why was Rachel waiting? She needed more. She needed it now. Quinn had just opened her mouth to beg (yes she was going to beg like her freaking life depended on it) before Rachel pulled her head back and looked into her eyes. Quinn felt herself grounded there, yet falling through at exactly the same time. Their harsh breathing filled the room as there was not another sound to be heard save for the pounding of their hearts. She gave her permission without saying a thing at all, not even a nod of her head, and Rachel tentatively slipped a finger inside of her. She yelped at the feeling of such glorious relief and ground her hips down to match Rachel's gentle thrust.

"Are you-?"

"Don'tstoppleasedon'tstop," she gasped breathlessly.

Her head was a fog of heated desire. She could comprehend nothing more or less than just Rachel, all of Rachel, everything Rachel, her Rachel.

Rachel kissed her neck, her throat, her chest, her breasts, Quinn could feel her everywhere. Her hot mouth was covering every inch of her body and she was inside of her. Finally, she was inside of her!

Rachel leaned her forehead against Quinn's as she pumped her finger slowly in and out of that slick, impossibly burning heat. She forced herself to keep her eyes open, just to watch what this was doing to Quinn. She had to know. She had to see everything. Quinn's hair splayed out across the pink sheets, the way she moaned, filling Rachel with a sensation she didn't fully understand…like this was it, this was everything, just to make her sound that way, just to make her feel like this. Quinn moved restlessly beneath her and Rachel just wanted to hold her even closer, wrap herself around her, and never let go. She'd never been so close to someone like this and yet she wanted more. It would never be enough, but she would never stop trying.

With Rachel's hot breath against her throat, arm wrapped around her back, hand between her legs, Quinn felt herself getting closer to the edge. It just wasn't enough, she wanted to feel more. No sooner had she whimpered than Rachel added a second finger and Quinn groaned with pleasure. She ground her hips down, meeting each gentle thrust with her own.

"Rachel."

The pace increased and soon Quinn was matching every thrust for frenzied thrust. As Rachel went deeper and deeper with every stroke, Quinn felt the delicious pressure building within her, threatening to explode from between her legs to every corner of her body, to the very tips of her fingers. Her body screamed for release, flooding her with a fervent desperation through her veins, burning and tugging at her incessantly. It wanted to come out; it wanted to burst through, so close she could feel it. But it kept slipping away.

Rachel was whispering hotly against her ear.

"Breathe, baby, breathe - let it happen."

So close…

She didn't even know what she was close to! It was just something there, something she had to reach and fall over the edge. She twined her arms around Rachel's waist and with every thrust the blonde gave, Rachel used her hips to return it, driving her even deeper into Quinn. She buried her face in the crook of Rachel's neck, wanting to be closer, to breathe her in, to taste her. The tan skin beneath her lips was hot to the touch, feverish, as Quinn sucked hard before sinking her teeth down. Rachel whimpered and she swung her head around, desperately searching for Quinn's mouth, which she obligingly offered.

Their tongues played for a moment before Rachel got the better of her and swept deep inside. Quinn moaned at the taste of her.

So much of Rachel. So much. Never enough.

God, she didn't know what she was doing, what she was feeling; she only wanted more of it.

She could taste her, feel her, faster, Rach, ohgodplease, faster, harder, fuck me!

Had she said that out loud?

Quinn breathed her in deeply and when Rachel curled her fingers upward, hitting this place…everything shattered in a blinding white heat. She lost control as it ripped through her body, hitting every corner and crevice, every nerve ending, even places she didn't know could be touched. Then it was over and she was left wonderfully trembling, her body a mass of jelly. She didn't think it would ever be the same again.

So many thoughts raced through her head, she couldn't make out any but one that repeated itself the most.

So that's what it's supposed to be like.

A thousand miles away, she felt herself drifting in this state of utter bliss, where nothing existed but this feeling, this…this…this peace…yet for as far away from this earth as she was, she could still feel her. Rachel's scent surrounded her, their legs entwined, her warm, naked body pressed against hers, her breasts against her stomach, her hand in her hair, softly stroking, while the other continued to explore her body in a light caress. Up and down again, circling her hip, tracing up her side, between the valley of her breasts, the line of her jaw…

"Quinn?" her voice beckoned to her softly, helping her float back down and anchor her once again.

She could barely manage a nonsensical sound of reply, just to let Rachel know she'd heard her. Speech wasn't coming back yet. Neither was much else.

"Are you okay?"

She struggled to make her eyes focus and when she did, there was the glowing, beautiful, and very worried face of Rachel Berry before her.

"What?" she managed to gasp out, still breathing hard. Her heart hadn't calmed down yet either. "W-what are you…what?"

It wasn't until the brunette reached out and wiped away the tears that had slipped out of the corner of her eyes that Quinn understood what she was saying. She had no idea she'd been crying.

"Are you all right? Did I hurt you?"

Quinn didn't bother to fight the giggles that bubbled up inside her. She just tilted her head back happily and carefree, letting it all come loose.

"That was…that was so…" she swallowed thickly and looked back at the brunette who still had a furrowed brow of concern, "I love you, Rachel Berry…more than I'll ever love anyone."

"So you're okay?" she pressed anxiously. "You feel okay? Your head doesn't hurt?"

Quinn wondered if she had even heard her at all.

Oh, but that was her Rachel. Silly Rachel. Perfectly Rachel.

Everything was just…stars. Gold stars, everywhere. Was that what she had needed for so long? 'Cause it felt like she'd found it - whatever 'it' was.

If someone offered her a million dollars to stop grinning right this second, she wouldn't have been able to do it.

"I'm…perfect."

Sighing with relief, Rachel dropped her head for a moment before looking back up with her signature mega-watt smile.

"Did Quinn Fabray just have her very first orgasm?"

"She did," Quinn purred delightedly. "And Rachel Berry gave it to her."

"Well, wasn't that nice of her?"

"I'd like to think she enjoyed it a little bit too."

"I think she might have."

As Rachel had watched Quinn orgasm, brought there by her and only her, she knew she had found a new passion that rivaled even her love of singing. What she wouldn't give to just be able to do this over and over again, to watch as she wound Quinn up and sent her into a freefall, to make her plummet over the edge again and again and again, each time better than the last. She found herself more determined than ever to be the perfect student and master this; what was valedictorian compared to this? What was History, Math, Science, English, compared to this? She'd give it all up just to study Quinn Fabray for the rest of her life and it would prove to be far more useful and worthwhile than any of those other things.

"Rachel?"

She broke away from her musings to see a wicked gleam in those hazel eyes that both frightened and excited her.

"Q-Quinn?"

"My turn."

The diva didn't have a chance to respond before Quinn had rapidly flipped them over, having regained her strength in the last few minutes, and it was as though she had even more energy than before. She gasped when her back slammed against the mattress so hard, they bounced slightly.

Then there was a hot mouth against her skin, a tongue laving over what felt like everywhere. Quinn sucked and licked at her breasts and she could do little else but hold on for dear life as this fierce blonde tigress took over. Rachel could have sworn she heard a growl.

It was the sexiest thing she'd ever heard.

Her core throbbed maddeningly as Quinn continued her merciless onslaught against Rachel's body, seemingly determined to find and mark ever inch of it with her hands, lips, tongue, and even teeth.

Rachel had never been so utterly turned on her life. Her thighs were slick as she soaked through her underwear. Her hips had a mind of their own, grinding and thrusting against Quinn in any place she could find purchase.

Oh, God.

It was so hard and so fast, she couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Pleasure was building rapidly inside her, a storm about to unleash, and just as she felt herself beginning to crest, Quinn slowed, and the release that had just been encroaching, fell away.

Rachel had never so seriously and calculatingly considered murder before in her life. She was plotting her beautiful girlfriend's untimely death for being so cruel when she finally met those hazel, gold flecked eyes. There was no smirk, no raised eyebrow, nothing to indicate that she was teasing Rachel for the sake of tormenting her. It was just Quinn, looking at her, into her, through her. She knew then that it wasn't a tease, it wasn't Quinn messing around; it was Quinn…loving her. Sweet, soft lips melted against hers in a languid kiss where they licked and touched every place their mouths had to offer.

She'd never been kissed by anyone the way Quinn kissed her. Her first. Her always. Such love poured from within, Rachel curled her arms around the blonde and held her close just so that Quinn could feel it too, feel everything that was radiating out from her, so that Rachel could give it into her.

There would never be anyone she loved more than Quinn Fabray.

Oh. Had Quinn said the same before? She did. It hadn't registered at first because Rachel was so panicked by seeing those tears, but the utterly orgasmic look on Quinn's face had quelled her fears. Finally, she had gotten something right.

"I want to feel you," Quinn murmured huskily against her ear.

Rachel felt the words streak to her throbbing center.

With a surprisingly steady hand, she took Quinn's and slid it down between them until both of their hands rested against the wet apex at Rachel's thighs.

Be my first. Take me. Love me. I trust you.

Quinn swallowed thickly; the expression on her face was something torn between arousal, fear, and pure wonder. Rachel understood all too well. She felt it too.

She touched her tentatively at first, like she had before, just barely stroking the soaked material of her panties. Rachel whined and thrust her hips purposefully so Quinn would get the hint.

When Rachel pushed against her eagerly, Quinn bit her bottom lip so fiercely, she almost drew blood. That hesitation, the fear she felt earlier, had been cast aside as something else took over inside of her. Running on pure adrenaline, desire, need…she wanted Rachel and her brain went on autopilot. It didn't matter that she didn't know exactly what she was doing, only that she was going to do it. Everything was about instinct…instinct and what Rachel had shown her.

The fear hadn't vanished though. It was still there, but now there was a fiery, primal urge overriding it that Quinn had never experienced before. She had always been able to feign confidence and did so with startling ease. Maybe it was because of the way she was raised. Quinn wasn't confident, but she had to be. So she put on a damn good show. Even if she didn't feel that way, everyone would think it, and wasn't that just as good as confidence itself? But this…this lack of doubt…this lack of fear…she'd never known this. There was no thinking, no forced façade, no way to protect herself. There was just need.

She needed Rachel. To please Rachel, make Rachel come, make Rachel hers, take everything, give everything, please her, fuck her, love her.

When Quinn slipped her hand into the slick, heated folds, she couldn't help but moan. Feeling how impossibly wet Rachel was, touching her where no one else had ever touched her (or would ever touch her if she had anything to say about that), it struck up her own desire again and the bundle of nerves between her legs was throbbing again as though she hadn't just found release a few minutes ago.

How was that even possible? To be so turned on again so soon? To feel like she needed to…again…already?

Rachel whimpered and Quinn immediately crawled back up the bed to find her mouth and cover her with kisses anywhere she could. She laved over her breasts with the utmost care, roughing those pebbled points lightly with her teeth and Rachel made the sexiest sound. It wasn't exactly a moan, but something guttural and needy, something Quinn would do anything to hear again.

She always tasted so good, sweet in the same places, salty in the others, and Quinn would lap it all up every time. She wanted every inch of that body touched by her, marked by her, loved by her. Rachel would be loved in every way possible, inside AND out.

She'd never thought she could be so addicted to something before and here she was…freely admitting that she, Quinn Fabray, was addicted to Rachel Berry, addicted the way Rachel felt beneath her, addicted to the way Rachel made her feel, addicted to this crazy, impossible, maddening, glorious girl that she never wanted to stop touching.

As her fingers stretched and stroked and explored that uncharted territory, Quinn paid close attention to the sounds the diva made, which action made her whimper, which place made her moan, which stroke had her hips bucking off the mattress…she wanted to know it all. She had to know it all.

"R-Rachel?"

"I'm ready," she nodded breathlessly, locking eyes with Quinn.

The blonde sucked in a harsh breath at the sight. Rachel was laid out before her, her lips swollen and perfect from Quinn's kisses, her hair mussed and glorious as it went every which way across the pillows, her light brown eyes nearly black with desire…desire for Quinn. She was so beautiful it made her want to cry. This dark haired beauty was hers.

As she kissed her, Quinn gently slid one of her fingers inside and groaned. Rachel was so hot and tight around her, it was like her body was clamping down on her, keeping her in. Without even thinking about it, Quinn straddled Rachel's leg and as she gently pumped in and out of her, her own hips rocked simultaneously against the brunette's thigh, matching each movement. As she looked down into those darkened eyes, Quinn never knew a more beautiful sight. She was making love to Rachel Berry, this stunning, magnificent girl…the girl she wanted to spend the rest of her life with…

Rachel heard Quinn moan as they moved together. She couldn't believe this was happening. Quinn was inside of her, sucking on her throat, her tongue was there and everywhere. A flush came over her as her body burned with what Quinn was doing to her. There it was again; she could feel the pressure coil, the ripples of pleasure, winding higher, but it was too far away. More. Always more.

Quinn wondered when had her life turned around enough to give her this. What had she done to deserve such happiness, to deserve such a rare gift? She didn't. But here it was. Would it go away? No. She wouldn't let it. If this was something given to her, she was damn well going to keep it.

When Rachel mewled pleadingly, it was like Quinn had heard her say the words. Another finger filled her and Rachel threw her head back with a hiss of "oh God yes…". Quinn was moving faster now and Rachel opened her legs shamelessly to allow her the deepest access possible. Her hands sought out every place she could reach on Quinn's body. Her breasts, her nipples, her stomach, her hips, and when she gripped her ass, helping Quinn move harder against her, the blonde gasped with an appreciative moan.

Rachel didn't know which way was up, down, sideways, anywhere, anything. She just knew that there was Quinn and Quinn inside of her and Quinn making love to her, and such…such pleasure she'd never felt before. She could feel herself reaching that breaking point, it was almost there; was Quinn there too? Their bodies moved together with such fervor, almost as if they were trying to climb inside each other. Rachel heard herself cry out or was that Quinn or was it both of them?

Fall inside me…stay there…always…

Rachel whimpered and moaned, writhing beneath Quinn madly, so she knew the girl had to be close. Her wrist hurt and her arm was aching, but she didn't care, Quinn thrust her fingers harder, trying to make them go as deep as possible, stretching her, feeling her. Every sound Rachel made, every movement, only spurred Quinn closer to her own release. She couldn't think, she could only feel, and feel she did.

Then all of a sudden, Rachel's hands left Quinn's hips and she groped around searchingly with an almost frustrated whine. Quinn looked to her wonderingly and at the wide eyed expression of unadulterated need, she just somehow understood. With her other hand, Quinn seized Rachel's, interlocking their fingers. Palm against palm, flesh against flesh, body against body, love against love, Rachel tumbled over the edge and with one last, trembling rock of her own hips, Quinn followed her down.

IloveyouDon'teverleavemeIloveyouDon'teverleavemeIloveyou.

That's all they heard in the silence.

"I have never been so relaxed in my life..."

"Hmm..." Quinn agreed, "Me neither."

They were lying side by side, every inch of them touching as Quinn had hooked her hand behind Rachel's knee and pulled it securely over her hip so their legs could be tangled up with each other. Rachel used Quinn's arm as a pillow and wrapped around the blonde's waist, stroking the smooth skin of her back, ghosting up and down the length of her spine and between her shoulder blades. Quinn never stopped smiling at her, only breaking now and then to bite her lower lip shyly. She had her hands threaded in Rachel's hair, stroking over and over again as though she couldn't get enough of the feeling.

They couldn't take their eyes off each other. Not for sleep, not for anything.

"Did that really just happen?" she whispered. "I'm not going to wake up, am I?"

"If it was just a dream…it was the best dream I've ever had."

"I don't want it to be just a dream. It's too cruel."

Quinn brushed her lips against Rachel's forehead before staring back into her eyes purposefully. "It wasn't a dream."

"Good," she sighed blissfully and snuggled in closer so their noses were touching now. "Because it was perfect."

"Rachel…" Quinn started out nervously and then blushed, which made her all the more endearing to the brunette. "I think…I think I…"

But she couldn't bring herself to say it, so she just blushed even more, her cheeks a brilliant red by now. Yet, she didn't have to. Rachel knew what she was trying to say.

"You came with me?"

"Yeah," Quinn replied hoarsely with a quick nod, relieved that she didn't have to voice it. "Is that…is that normal? How many times can we…"

"As many times as we can hold out for," Rachel giggled. "It's called multiple orgasms, Quinn, one of the few perks we females enjoy and I think we're going to discover just what a glorious thing it can be."

"So if we do it…again…I could…?"

"You want to go again?"

If it were possible, Quinn turned even redder as she fidgeted. "I didn't mean that! I only wanted to know if-"

Rachel giggled some more, gathering the embarrassed blonde in her arms and kissed her burning cheek. "I know what you meant. I'm teasing you, love."

"S-so in theory, we could just…never stop? We could keep going?"

"Well," she cocked her head to the side as she ruminated on it, "we might have to stop for food and rest at some point, but yes, in theory, we could keep going until one or both of us pass out from sheer sensory overload…or perhaps just exhaustion."

Quinn's tongue darted out to wet her lips and Rachel found herself mesmerized by that perfect pink tongue that worked such magic in her mouth. The blonde had this…predatory look on her face, like she was imagining just that very idea and it had Rachel breathing harder already, squirming with how much it turned her on.

"W-well if you plan on trying for such a strenuous goal," Rachel said, feeling strangely nervous, "you had better start building up that stamina, Fabray."

"Hey! I'm Captain of the Cheerios - or at least I was - I have PLENTY of stamina!"

At that, they both burst out laughing.

"I think everyone was right about us," Quinn said lazily as they calmed down once more and absently dragged her lips across Rachel's shoulder.

"Right about what?" she asked curiously.

"We did just need to get laid," she shrugged, wrinkling her nose as she said it. "Celibacy Club was killing us."

The diva was in the middle of a most indignant protesting rant about how insulting and sexist that was when Quinn suddenly disappeared from her sight and ducked down to settle her head between Rachel's thighs.

"W-what are you doing?" Her eyes widened.

Quick grinned up at her wolfishly. "I think I need to work a little harder to get you to relax."

Rachel yelped and fisted the sheets in awe.

"Oh, God," she gasped. "Lindsay was right, you are a quick learner."

Quinn had to laugh at that.

What felt like hours later, Rachel collapsed on top of Quinn in a breathless, heaving, boneless mass. She was doing everything she could to fight sleep at this point. Her body had both reached and surpassed the point of exhaustion, but it was a wonderful feeling.

"Okay..." Rachel admitted, panting, as she lay against Quinn's shoulder, "maybe we did just need to…get laid."

She said it so awkwardly, that Quinn giggled. Words like that just didn't fit in Rachel Berry's mouth - it was like her tongue was trying to make some foreign sounds it couldn't wrap itself around. Quinn looped her arms around low on Rachel's back and held her there contentedly. She loved the feeling of Rachel's weight so full and settled on her like this. It was like it comforted something inside her she didn't even understand. Quinn trailed her finger lightly over the sensitive skin there, tracing a line just above the smooth curve of Rachel's buttocks.

God, she'd known her girlfriend had a great ass before, but now…she had a newfound appreciation for Rachel's ass. Also her breasts. She really, really loved Rachel's breasts. She was a total pervert honestly, wanting nothing more than to keep touching Rachel wherever and whenever she could. Turns out she was a lot of things now that she didn't think she was before.

"I feel like if Mr. Schuester tried to give away one of my solos right now, I wouldn't care."

"That won't last," Quinn scoffed, "but maybe you won't be as scary about it."

"I'll just plan a closet session with you later to work out the excess frustration."

"Sounds heavenly."

"Oh, Quinn!" Rachel sighed. "That was darling. Am I turning you into a romantic?"

"Whatever you want me to be, I will be," she said sincerely.

"I want you to be you."

"Then maybe I am turning into a bit of a romantic. After all…if you can do things like that to me…"

"I'm that good, huh?"

"Better."

"I knew I would be," she said confidently.

"You did not! You were just as much of a wreck as I was."

"Nu-uh!" she protested. "I may have been nervous, but I'm passionate, artistic, extremely in touch with my emotions, not to mention multi-talented, Quinn. Why wouldn't this be an area I excel in?"

"You are such a liar. You were terrified."

Rachel bit her lip fiercely before relenting at last. "Ohhhh…fine. I was! B-but you swear I was good?"

"I don't exactly have much to compare it to…" she teased.

"It's more than I do," she mumbled.

Quinn tightened her arms around her. "You're incredible. I…I can't imagine anything better," she said shyly.

"I don't think there is anything better," Rachel whispered back.

Quinn kissed her sweetly, the light touch acted almost as a healing balm on their abused, swollen lips. Then the two fell asleep, thoroughly exhausted, but with the largest smiles on their faces, wrapped up in each other.

Rachel woke to something buzzing incessantly. There was something soft tickling her nose and it took several blinks before she realized what it was – blonde hair. She had buried her face against the back of Quinn's neck, the silky fair locks fell across her face. Rachel breathed in deeply with an enormous smile. Quinn always smelled so good, she didn't wear perfume, so it was always this light, clean flowery scent that she was sure was a mixture of shampoo and something just Quinn. Rachel was spooning her, her arm wrapped around Quinn's stomach while her entire body was firmly curled against her. Quinn didn't seem to mind in the least, her hand was on Rachel's, trying to keep her there even in sleep. The diva lifted her head slightly and saw that it was still light out from what she could see streaming through the corners of the blinds.

There was that annoying buzzing sound again. Rachel carefully slipped her arm away from Quinn and she had almost gotten free when the blonde whined, shifting restlessly, and pulled Rachel back against her. Quinn had no intention of letting her go.

Rachel pressed a reassuring kiss below the hairline of her neck. "Just for a minute," she murmured. "I'll be right back."

She wasn't entirely sure if Quinn was awake or not, but after another restless shift, or a grunt of annoyance, Rachel couldn't tell which, Quinn released her. She rolled away from the warmth and instantly regretted it. How could she possibly leave that embrace, so warm and safe nestled against her lover?

She smiled giddily to herself.

Lover! She had a lover! And it wasn't just any lover, it was Quinn Fabray! The Quinn Fabray! Beautiful, strong, brilliant, amazing, Quinn Fabray – the girl she loved more than anything.

For a second, she forgot about the buzzing and was about to roll back and take Quinn into her arms again so neither of them could ever leave, but there it was again. With a growl, she leaned down off the side of the bed, groping around on the floor, her hand hit her bag, and she fumbled a bit before finally reaching the source of their rude interruption.

It surprised her how sore she was, in places other than just between her legs. Muscles she was certain she rarely used or didn't even know existed, were protesting loudly, making their presence obstinately known now. Her morning elliptical workouts had not prepared her for an active sex life. She wondered if there was some sort of exercise regimen she could plot out that would keep up her cardio as well as strengthen her…what to call it…sex muscles? That sounded absurd, even to her.

Perhaps the best way to build those muscles was to engage in the act itself…as often as possible. Yes, that sounded right. Just have sex with Quinn as often as possible and those muscles wouldn't be protesting as much after a while. Rachel had just set herself quite determinedly on this new plan when she saw what was on the screen of her cell and a loud gasp escaped her.

"Wha-what is it? What happened?" Quinn mumbled, trying to wake herself up as she flung herself across the bed to curl against Rachel's back this time, nuzzling into her shoulder, closing any distance between them with such determination it was as though those few moments apart had been a year.

"It's Dad," Rachel said forlornly and fell back onto the pillow with a sigh.

The blonde didn't really seem to register what she said. Actually, she thought Quinn had just fallen back asleep, but then she spoke again.

"What about your Dad?"

"He'll be home in an hour."

Rachel felt the other girl stiffen against her. They both knew what that meant.

Time to go.

"Oh," was all Quinn said.

"Yeah."

"I guess…I guess I should get dressed then…"

She was already sliding away from her when Rachel instinctively reached out and pulled her back into her arms.

"No, don't go," she breathed, resting against Quinn's forehead. "Please, don't go."

"I don't want to," her voice soft and helpless, "but I'm…I'm not allowed…"

"Then just not yet; we still have time."

Rachel knew how needy she sounded and she would have felt ashamed for it had Quinn not seemed to feel the same. The way the blonde had her arms wrapped securely around her, her eyes shut, how she melted into Rachel's embrace… Quinn didn't want this moment to end either.

"I'm not going anywhere."

Rachel knew she wasn't just talking about right now.

"You promise?"

Quinn reached behind her to pry away one of Rachel's hands that had such a tight hold on her and brought it up to her chest. She placed Rachel's palm right over the bare, warm skin above her breast and covered it with her own.

"I can't go anywhere."

She had put Rachel's hand right over her heart.

The brunette could feel it fluttering wildly beneath her fingers. Her brain had to catch up with her body because she had rolled on top of Quinn's naked body, heated flesh meeting heated flesh once again in the most exciting, nerve awakening feeling, kissing her deeply, before knowing she had moved at all.

"Make love to me."

Rachel steeled herself for a response of something like "it's too risky," "we don't have time," or "I really should go," but instead Quinn gave a strained moan and the brunette found herself flat on her back in a matter of seconds, lips, hands, and tongue running over her in a flurry of pleasure.

They were still kissing each other, still touching each other as though it was their last chance, by the time Leroy gave Rachel their traditional ten minute call. That is, a ten minute warning call, which usually meant that Rachel got the chance to straighten up the house or put the finishing touches on whatever meal she had planned for her father's homecoming. Never had it been so aptly used before. Even as Rachel was trying to get off the phone with Leroy, Quinn was still attached to her from behind, kissing her neck as though she hadn't already been for hours, as though she would never stop.

Rachel pressed her girlfriend up against the front door instead of letting her out and Quinn didn't mind one bit.

"You have to go," she whined and yet still kept kissing her.

"I do. I have to go." Quinn nodded, kissing her back just as passionately.

"Tomorrow is too far away. I won't survive it."

"I'll die first."

"No! You can't! You have to be the strong one. I die first."

"Let's just grow old and die together – at exactly the same time."

Rachel frowned. "Like a joint suicide?"

Quinn huffed exasperatedly. "I was thinking more along the lines of fate…"

"Oh!" She lit up happily. "I like that much better. Fate."

"We were fated."

"So…tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow."

"Don't die first."

"I promise if you promise."

"I think having sex has caused us to lose some brain function. We're being ridiculous."

"Can too many orgasms make you stupid?"

"Just look at Puck."

Quinn threaded her fingers into Rachel's hair for what must have been the hundredth time that day and just held her there. She didn't seem to have heard what Rachel said about Puck, she was looking at her too intently. Rachel could feel her knees going weak under those blazing hazel eyes that penetrated places she didn't think could be touched. She leaned on Quinn for support, which the blonde was, steady and unyielding as she held on to her, keeping her standing.

"I don't want to go, Rachel," Quinn whispered.

"Then stay," she urged, not caring how needy she sounded. She was needy! "Stay right here."

"I love you so much."

Quinn kissed her fiercely and all too quickly because then she was gone. Rachel felt the cool air against her face as the door closed. Already she felt cold and empty without that girl in her arms. Could she really survive till tomorrow? Would she wake and discover this was all just a dream? Would anything change?

Please…please don't let this go away.

It didn't.

Tomorrow came all too slowly, but the second Quinn was back in her arms, she let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding since the blonde walked out the door. It didn't vanish. Quinn didn't run away. Quinn was there. Solid and warm and wonderful and kissing her.

Then Rachel changed her mind. Separation wouldn't kill her, but happiness just might.

Chapter Text

A few weeks had gone by, Nationals was approaching, and so was Prom. Rachel had forgotten all about it until Mercedes mentioned something to Quinn about starting her campaign for Prom Queen. To Rachel's utter disbelief, Quinn just shook her head hastily, glancing sideways at Sam who looked a little disappointed, and simply shrugged, saying that she wasn't going to run.

That declaration had caused a collective gasp from nearly the entire Glee club. Everyone knew it was Quinn's dream to be Prom Queen and this was her first year at getting that chance. She was almost a sure thing with all those crazy rumors that while hurtful at times, kept her in the spotlight and forefront of everyone's mind. Plus, she had Sam on her arm as they took their place as McKinley's top power couple. Quinn didn't even have to campaign really, just put her name on the ballot, and she'd be a shoo-in.

Even Rachel was surprised to hear her girlfriend dismiss the matter. She knew, just like everyone else, how important the title was to Quinn. After Glee, she immediately jumped on her for it.

"Why aren't you running? Why would you do that? You've been talking about being Prom Queen since junior high! Here's your chance…what's wrong?"

Quinn stared at her like she'd just had her head spin around on her shoulders Exorcist-style.

"Why?" she echoed in disbelief. "Rachel! You know why!"

She thought about it for a few moments, but couldn't come up with a sufficient answer.

"No, I really don't. Explain it to me. You've wanted this for so long…why are you letting it go without even-"

"Do you understand what campaigning for Prom Queen entails? Even the slightest bit? I'd be with Sam ALL the time! We'd be flaunting our status quo as a couple for weeks." She spat the word out like it tasted bitter. "Not just passively being together, but together like we're the new celebrities, showing off, presenting a united front, asking for votes, giving out cookies, and buttons and…whatever else! There would be posters with our pictures on them plastered everywhere, Prom King and Queen…the perfect relationship, the new face of McKinley. I'm not doing that!"

"So you're not going to go after this, something I know you've dreamed about for so long, b-because of me? Because you think it'll hurt me to see that?"

"Won't it?"

Rachel blinked at her, staring silently for a long moment, and then suddenly grabbed Quinn's hand, pulling her into an empty classroom. Quinn was taken completely off guard when she was pushed up against the wall and Rachel's mouth was on hers.

"Wh-what was that for?" she panted when Rachel finally pulled away.

"Because I love you."

"And?" she pressed.

"And you were willing to give up a dream of yours just for me."

"It doesn't matter to me anymore. I don't need it."

"I don't think you fully believe that."

Rachel was right. Quinn didn't fully believe it. She didn't want it as badly as she had before, but there was still something in the back of her mind that said…what if? It didn't matter though.

"I don't want to lie like that," she sighed. "It's hard enough already. I don't want to go to Prom and dance with Sam and take my pictures with Sam and be crowned with Sam. I want…"

"…to be with me?" Rachel offered shyly

"Every minute."

That seemed to solidify something in Rachel's head and Quinn watched a wave of determination wash over her girlfriend.

"I want you to do this, Quinn," Rachel said sternly. "I want you to run for Prom Queen."

"WHAT?"

"Do it. I'll help you however I can. I'll have you know I was considered quite the ingénue in performing arts camp not only when it came to my vocal and dance abilities, but in the crafts area as well. I'm a genius with a glue gun."

"Rach, I'm not-"

"You are. You're going to do this. Besides, I think Sam really wants it too, though he won't admit it. He loves the idea of being Prom King."

"I don't want to!" she replied stubbornly. "Can't we just skip Prom altogether?"

Rachel gasped in horror. "And miss a valuable life milestone in our high school career? Never! Quinn, what has gotten into you?"

"It doesn't matter because I can't go with you!" she shot back angrily. "So why bother?"

"We can work it out. I'll go with Kurt or someone else as a friend, while you go with Sam."

"Someone else?" she replied with a disgusted look on her face. "No. No! Why are you pushing this so hard? I never thought Prom would mean so much to you."

"It doesn't. At least, not really. I mean, I would love to have that romantic, timeless moment where you pick me up in a limo, give me a corsage that matches my dress, our parents gush while taking far too many pictures, and then we dance the night away…but I don't need it. We can have romance without that – we do have it! But Prom means something to you, being Prom Queen, and Quinn…I can't let you give up a dream like that for me, especially when you don't know for sure that you don't want it. You might resent me for it and that's not fair."

Rachel rubbed her hands up and down Quinn's arms reassuringly, moving them closer together. Quinn was looking everywhere but her.

"So you're going to run, you're going to win, and when you dance with Sam after being crowned, I'll be on stage singing for you. If it turns out you really didn't need it, that it really didn't matter, then that's great, but if it does…I'm not letting you give that up. I may not understand this desire of yours, Quinn, but I won't ever let you give up on something you want."

"I don't think this is a good idea…" she muttered uncomfortably.

"You told me you never wanted to hold me back, that you would do anything to help me achieve my dreams right?"

She nodded, looking at her out of the corner of her eye. "I never want to hold you down."

"So can't you understand why I want to do this with you?"

"But…the campaign…"

"Vote Fabrevans!" she chirped loudly.

Quinn's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, that's your portmanteau," Rachel said flippantly. "I came up with it in Glee while planning your campaign platform. I thought of 'Quam' at first, but it didn't sound very pretty, more like the sound of something being squashed…"

The blonde snorted.

"But then I thought of 'Fabrevans'! Fabray and Evans! It's perfect. So you see? I can be very useful in this area. Politics and show choir are practically the same thing."

Quinn arched one of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows. "That…is news to me."

"It's true."

Sighing, she shook her head in amusement, knowing she wasn't going to get around this. Her girlfriend had a one track mind that while in some cases proved to be absolutely incredible, other times it just made her want to pull her own hair out.

"So what's our couple name?" she relented with a huff.

Rachel pouted. "I haven't figured that one out yet. Nothing sounds right."

"Let me know when you do come up with one," she teased. "I'm sure it'll be perfect."

It was a few days later, and they'd already been hard at work at Sam's house making the Prom King and Queen posters and other various campaign items that Rachel deemed necessary. Sam loved the whole thing and threw himself into it headfirst, though Quinn was forced to separate him from the glue gun when he burned himself for the seventh time. There were graphs, flow charts, weekly schedules with events planned, and various crafts happening, which the younger two Evanses were eager to join. It really was an enjoyable time for all of them, until Rachel would let herself look at the faces on the posters and felt her heart drop. She just shook it off and continued on with her carefully laid plans which Quinn eventually started to join in on once Rachel had made it clear she wasn't going to let this go.

When the blonde realized that she really was going to have to do this, run for Prom Queen, she went into full Head Cheerleader mode as she started delegating tasks and took over completely. Sam looked afraid for his life at one point when Rachel and Quinn were arguing over the best pastry to hand out – two alpha females battling it out in his living room – but Rachel won in the end. Quinn would never cop to the reason why, but it had something to do with how distracted she got by the way Rachel looked when she was angry… Her cheeks were all flushed and she kept huffing angrily, her arms across her chest, pushing up her breasts in that low cut blouse she was wearing… Quinn had gotten so distracted, she slipped up, and Rachel almost did a victory lap around the house. Sam snickered knowingly over in the corner as the brunette ran off to dance with the younger kids, singing happily about how she'd gotten her way. Quinn glared at him so fiercely, he cowered and went back to what he was doing, pretending like he hadn't seen a thing at all.

Rachel opened her locker hastily, grabbing some books before shoving others back in as she rushed to make it to her next class on time. Moments before, she had narrowly avoided a slushie that she thought was aimed at her, but was in fact aimed at a freshman boy behind her. Just for a second, she had that familiar rush of fear coursing through her again as she screwed her eyes shut and braced herself for the icy slap that never came. There was laughter all around, but she hadn't been hit. Confused, Rachel opened her eyes to see the boy behind her dripping with blue, humiliated, and running off towards the bathroom. Azimio and Karofsky high fived each other before strutting off to class like the stupid lugs they were. Rachel had stood there in shock.

That boy was her once…until Quinn stopped it.

What would happen when she didn't have Quinn anymore?

Don't do that. Don't go there You promised yourself. No thoughts of the future. You have Quinn now and that's all that matters.

It felt like she was dragging her feet through mud as she trudged down the rapidly emptying hallway to her locker. She really was going to be late for her next class!

Cursing her slovenly behavior, she decided to pull it together and raced against the bell. She would win! She'd done it before!

But then the race was lost before it even really started - an unfamiliar looking piece of paper, the kind used for personal letters, fluttered out beneath her things and onto the floor. Curious, Rachel precariously balanced her books as she bent down to pick it up. To her surprise, it was more than one piece of paper; there were several folded neatly in half. Her name was scrawled across the side and she knew the handwriting at once.

All thoughts of class and tardiness flew from her head as Rachel absently dropped her books back into her locker, leaving her free to read without hindrance.

Her heart raced as she unfolded the pages to see that same handwriting filling the paper from top to bottom. Stunned and dying of curiosity, Rachel started to read. She didn't realize that she was sinking to the floor, sliding down the lockers.

There was no heading other than her name on the folded over blank side.

This is a love letter. I just thought you should know now that's what I was trying to do in case I mess it up. I thought you'd appreciate a handwritten one as opposed to a love-email or even a love-text (though those are nice - especially the sexts). It's not always so easy for me to say certain things so I wanted to try this way. Maybe the words will come easier. Maybe not.

I started to write this in Glee and already you're annoyed with me. Right now you're giving me dirty looks and trying to tell me to pay attention. I don't need to listen to yet another one of Mr. Schue's lectures on how special we all are (he really does too many of those). I know how special you are and that's the only thing that matters. Rachel, I know how much it hurts you not to be recognized and appreciated for all that you are, but at least you know that's what you deserve. Most people don't.

I can't say they treat you the way they do because they're jealous, Rach, because there are people here that are too stupid to know they should be. And I can't say that they don't understand, because there are also people smart enough to understand; they just don't want to admit it. What I can say, is that I know. Your fathers know. And someday the rest of the world will know too. I can't wait for that day so I can watch and laugh as you yell at everyone "I TOLD YOU SO!" It will be well-deserved and a long time coming.

No one is completely faultless. It's true that at times you can be obnoxious, overbearing, egocentric, and…this isn't sounding so much like a love letter anymore. Sorry! It's my first attempt, you'll have to make some allowances. What I mean is that even though you have your moments (we'll just call it that, sweetie) it's not why they act that way. The real reason why you get treated the way you do is because you're going to win and they know they're going to lose. That's the sad truth. You're extraordinary, Rachel, and don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise. Especially me and anyone like me. Until that day, I'll just be sure to remind you.

I never knew it could be like this. Love. Real love. Actual, all-consuming, soul bending love. I thought I knew - what it was for other people - but for sure it could never happen to me. Not for someone so profoundly and irreversibly screwed up as I am. But every time we make love, I feel as though I'm giving you another tiny piece of me that I can never get back and don't ever want back. It changes everything I thought I knew.

When you moan my name as I touch you, God, you have no idea how many times I've nearly come from just hearing the sound alone. It makes me think for a moment just what I would do to make sure this never goes away, that I never lose you. Maybe I'd kill for it.

The best part of making love with you is that moment right before you're about to come; you reach for my hand and hold on to me so fiercely like you just can't let go unless you know I'm there to catch you. I will always catch you, Rachel. I'll keep you safe. I'll make sure you're loved. There is nothing in the world that compares to the feeling of being between your thighs, my tongue pressed deep inside you, tasting you, pleasing you, the way you fist your hands in my hair and beg me not to stop. As if I would ever stop. Unless I feel like teasing you, of course, you know much I love to do that. I love driving you wild, baby.

Shoot, I think I must have giggled or something because people in class are looking at me strangely. Don't worry, I glared at them and they started minding their own business again. I may not be Captain of the Cheerios any more, but it looks like I haven't completely lost my touch. If yesterday was any indication, I think you would agree. What with all that begging… You're shameless, baby, and I love every second of it. It turns me on more than you can-

Oh my God, again with the looks! Is everyone else in this place a complete moron? There. That one should have scared them off for good. I really shouldn't be writing this kind of thing in school, but I can't help it. I think about you all the time.

You told me you never hated me, and it hurts to have to say this, but I hated you…for so long. You were the worst reminder of what I couldn't stand about myself. Everything I should be, but wasn't. You're so strong, brave, talented, and confident to be exactly who you are. I loved you for it just as much as I hated you for it.

I don't know when it is I fell in love with you, Rachel Berry. Was it that day in third grade on the playground? Was it when I kissed you in the parking lot? Was it the first night we shared the same bed? Or was it simply the first time I ever met you?

I remember it, you know. First grade, you were one of the early kids already at their desks. You had braids and a bright pink pencil with feathers on top. Puckerman kept trying to poke me so I sat down next to you, far, far away from him. You smiled and said, "Hello, my name is Rachel Berry, what's yours?" I told you and you replied, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Quinn. You have a very pretty name!" Then you pointed to your backpack. "It's gold and shaped like a star. Do you like it? My Daddys bought it for me because they say I'm a star. It's a metaphor. Metaphors are important." To be honest, I didn't know what the word metaphor meant at the time, but the way you said it had me convinced it was the best thing in the world. Is it weird that I remember that? I don't know. Maybe I started loving you that very moment.

It doesn't really matter when it happened though, because it's true now, and will always be true. I meant it when I said you were never a choice, Rachel. You were just you: an inevitability. I don't think I'll ever be able to stop thanking God for bringing you into my life. I know now that He did, even if the rest of the world can't understand it yet. I don't know what I would be if He hadn't given me you and I don't ever want to think about it. Without my savior? It would be a different world…an unbearable one.

You're my first of firsts, Rachel Berry, and I pray that you'll be my last of lasts.

(If you need this signed to know who it's from then we have some serious issues.)

P.S. Leave the door unlocked for me tonight?

It was when the bell rang and students poured into the halls in a mad rush, that Rachel scrambled to her feet in shock, realizing that she'd read Quinn's letter over and over for an entire period, skipping her class altogether. Gathering her things, she ran off to her next class, but didn't learn a thing for the rest of the day. Her thoughts were soaring in the clouds with a certain blonde and weren't likely to come back anytime soon.

After Rachel's fathers had gone to bed, Quinn slipped through the backdoor left open for her. It had become a routine since taking that last step and spending nights apart was just not an option anymore. It was a huge risk, not just that Rachel's Dads would discover their secret, but the simple fact that Quinn wasn't allowed to be there at all. However, both of them agreed it was a risk well worth taking.

So every chance Quinn could find to escape her mother for the night, she'd drive over to the Berrys', park a few houses away, sneak in through the backyard and use the sliding door, which made less sound when opened, before acting like a ninja to finally make it into Rachel's room unseen. She knew she was going to have to start dying her hair soon to hide the gray streaks or maybe it would just be a heart attack at the very, very young age of seventeen that would end her. It didn't matter though. She would keep doing it.

They just…couldn't stand to sleep alone anymore. Nights apart usually meant restlessness and bleary eyes the next day. Quinn knew she was getting far too attached to Rachel for her own good. She'd never been so close to anyone before, never needed anyone like this before. It was terrifying, but the more she gave in to it, the easier it became. Sometimes it didn't even feel strange, just right.

Quinn barely had one foot into the house before Rachel pounced on her. She ended up carrying the brunette, who had wrapped her legs around her waist, just far enough to reach the couch in the den. Any further and Quinn wouldn't have had any clothes left on for the walk up the stairs. Thank God for Hiram wearing ear plugs and Leroy being able to sleep through a battering ram…

She woke that morning alone in Rachel's bed with a letter where the brunette's head should have been. She actually did have to climb out the window that time to avoid the Berry men after sleeping too late, but it was easier than it looked. Thankfully, Rachel never found out about it. She waited only long enough to reach her car before eagerly unfolding the pages to see what her girlfriend had in store.

After that, it became a ritual for the two of them that would last for much longer than either would imagine. Once a week, Quinn and Rachel would each write each other a letter. Sometimes they were sweet, filled with bubbly praise and love declarations. Sometimes they were silly and pointless, filled with ramblings about the most recent gossip or maybe if one of them was having a bad day, it would be ranting about the injustices of the world. Sometimes it was just pure filthy, smutty, deliciously explicit pages of details about what they wanted to do to each other given the next opportunity. Sometimes it was all of those things combined. Rachel almost always finished her weekly letter first, but she liked to wait until Quinn gave her hers in case there was an addendum she wished to make to her own. Occasionally there would be times when she just couldn't wait and shoved it into Quinn's hands before running off again. No matter how many letters were exchanged, neither one could get over the sheer thrill of opening the new one for the week. Each was pored over with the same eagerness and delight as if it were the very first time all over again.

There was never a need to sign them. The signature was imprinted with every sentence, every word, every distinct curve to a letter. Their names were plastered across every inch of those papers – seen or unseen.

"Sam!" she hissed, looking around the empty hall warily. "Stop that! You'll get us in trouble!"

"Aw, come on, Rach! Just one mustache?"

She looked at the sharpie then back at the poster before relenting. "Fine! But make it fast and leave Lauren's picture alone."

"Yes!" He pumped his fist eagerly and got to work on defacing Puck's picture on his Prom King and Queen poster with Lauren Zizes.

That one had taken them all by surprise. Zizes was a total loser, badass, scary chick on the wrestling team. One day, Puckerman had brought her into the Glee club on his arm and she announced that she was going to join. Mr. Schuester weakly asked her to audition, but she only stared at him for a long moment, chewing on a candy bar, before taking her seat on the risers next to Puck. That was that. Santana was kind of annoyed, but that lasted for as long as a blink of an eye. Then Lauren was just one of them, oddly enough. It took longer for everyone to accept that Puck and Lauren were dating though. That was just…weird.

Rachel kept watch, anxiously looking up and down the hallway for any sign of someone to catch them.

"We're supposed to be putting up your posters, not childishly scribbling on our opponents'. It's dirty politics."

"It's high school," Sam replied dryly and she gave him a scathing look which he only smirked at.

"What is taking you so long?"

"I'm adding a tail."

"You said it was just a mustache!"

"Not enough."

"You're leaving Lauren alone though, right? She doesn't deserve it, however frightening she may be. I once had a nightmare she crushed me into a ball with her giant hands and rolled me down a bowling lane into the pins."

He snorted with laughter. "Was it a strike?"

"It's not funny!" She stomped her foot. "It was a terrifying ordeal and I don't appreciate you making light of it."

"Relax. I'm leaving her alone. She doesn't deserve it, but the guy who slept with your girlfriend and got her pregnant so totally does."

Rachel froze beside him and Sam mentally slapped himself. He dropped his hand from the poster and turned to her apologetically.

"Shoot, Rachel," he shook his head, "I'm…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. That was-"

He didn't get to finish because, all of a sudden, Rachel jumped up, angrily ripped the poster off the wall, and tore it to pieces until the whole thing was scattered across on the floor of the hallway.

She stood there silently, glowering down at the paper.

"Feel better?" he asked.

"A little."

"Wanna go draw on another one?"

"Sure."

They ran off to find another poster, still keeping an eye out for anyone who might catch them.

"Don't forget the missing teeth this time!" Rachel hissed.

Quinn found them the next period, putting up one of Sam and Quinn's campaign posters near Principal Figgins's office.

"Keep it straight!"

"It is straight!"

"Move it a quarter inch to the right."

"But it's straight!"

"Move it."

"Fine! Just put the tape on already! My arms are starting to hurt."

"Don't you bench press like 100 pounds every day?"

"250!" he snapped indignantly. "And we've been doing this for hours!"

"If you could actually manage to hold the posters straight, this would have gone a whole lot faster."

"I'm gonna start bench pressing you…" he muttered under his breath.

"I'm not 250 pounds," she replied airily.

"Could have fooled me."

"Why you rotten-!"

"Hey! Guys!" Quinn chirped cautiously, picking that moment to interrupt before things got out of hand. "How's it going?"

"Fine," they grumbled simultaneously.

Soon Rachel had taped the last corner and Sam dropped his arms with a sigh. Quinn examined the poster with that same dreadful feeling gnawing at the pit of her stomach. It was a picture of her and Sam, with his arms respectfully around her waist while she touched his chest and they smiled broadly into the camera and now out into the hall for all the students and faculty alike to see.

She hated it.

"This is so…wrong," Quinn muttered, looking at the two of them out of the corner of her eye. "You guys just spent all day putting these things up and it doesn't bother you?"

Sam and Rachel exchanged a furtive look that confused her, but they never explained it. Instead, Rachel merely shrugged.

"As I recall, you are the one who got us into this in the first place. It's a little late to be noticing how 'wrong' it is now, Quinn…"

"I told you I didn't want to run for Prom Queen!"

"No," Rachel said pointedly. "That discussion ended with you not being sure about whether or not you wanted to run. Therefore, we decided to go ahead with it, just in case, or do you not remember? Besides, that wasn't exactly what I was referring to."

Quinn groaned and turned away from the happy, smiling faces on the poster.

"Can we just go to Glee already?"

Rachel sighed and walked alongside her girlfriend while Sam tucked the extra posters under his arm and followed behind them both.

"Thank you for helping," she said quietly to the brunette.

"After all the hard work I put into helping make these, I deserved the right to see them displayed properly."

Quinn smiled at that. Just then, they passed one of Puck and Lauren's posters. Puck's picture had a black sharpie's work scribbled all over it.

"They better not do that to our picture." Quinn frowned.

Sam and Rachel exchanged another mysterious look, shifting anxiously.

"I don't think you'll have to worry about that," Rachel said finally.

The blonde furrowed her brow in confusion. Sometimes she wondered just what those two were really up to these days.

Quinn held Rachel's hand the whole drive to school, mostly just because she wanted to, and a little because she knew she wouldn't get to touch her again for much too long. She had secretly slept over at the Berry house last night, having snuck in as usual, and then waited for Rachel's Dads to leave for work so they could go to school together. Quinn parked four houses down just to be safe and hope that Hiram and Leroy wouldn't pick it out as her car though she was sure Hiram had her license plate number on hand for whenever he had the chance to call the cops in on her. Sam was Rachel's excuse. "He's going to give me a ride to school today, Dad. We have to discuss our strategy for Nationals!" Brittany was Quinn's. The girl was always a safe excuse because even if her mother for some God knows what reason, called the Pierce household, they were always so confused about anything that was going on, her mother would think nothing of them not knowing about Quinn being there.

She had to let go of Rachel when they got there, but they still walked in together, only parting ways to go to their lockers. Quinn winked at her as Rachel walked off. The brunette blushed and Quinn just watched as she skipped away happily.

She was just closing her locker after third period when Sam came up and slid his arm around her shoulders. It didn't make her cringe anymore like it used to. She liked it now. It was something comforting and familiar. He kissed her on the cheek before walking her to her first class as was the usual routine they had agreed upon.

There was something off today though. From the minute he walked up, the boy had this leering smile on his face that just wasn't going away.

"Why are you grinning like such an idiot?"

He shrugged, chuckling. "No reason."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "That ridiculous smirk tells me otherwise. Out with it!"

"You're talkin' to me all wrong. That's the wrong tone. Do it again and I'll stab you in the face with a soldering iron."

She groaned weakly. "Christopher Walken."

"Hey! I'm getting better! You got that one!"

"Only 'cause you tried to do him last week too."

Even that wasn't enough to wipe the shit-eating grin off his face. He was like the Cheshire cat, acting like he knew something she didn't. It infuriated her.

"Seriously, what are you so stupid-faced about?"

"You don't wear perfume, Quinn."

She gave him one of her patented 'are you really this dumb – I have no time for bullshit' looks, which made him laugh.

"You don't wear perfume, yet it's all over you," he explained further.

"Excuse me?"

He leaned in conspiratorially. "You think you're so smooth and subtle, but hate to break it to you, babe, you're not. You need to be more careful."

"Sam, I swear if you don't start making sense in the next five seconds I'm gonna-"

"You smell like Rachel."

"What?"

"You smell like Rachel's perfume. You kind of always do, but it's gotten a lot worse lately. Most people wouldn't notice, but in Glee…they're gonna pick up on it soon. Santana's like a bloodhound when it comes to this stuff and Puck prides himself on being able to identify every chick in school by either the shape of their ass or the way they smell – which is creepy, I know. Then there's also the diva-ettes who are bound to pick up on it."

Quinn covered her face with her hands. "It's that strong?"

He shrugged with that same silly looking grin plastered on his face. "Safe to say you're enjoying yourself with our tiny diva?"

"Shut up, Sam."

Still red in the face, Quinn finally was able to get away from Sam's whispering in her ear, teasing her about Rachel, when they reached her fourth period class. Shoving him away with a roll of her eyes, he snickered and pulled her back to kiss her on the cheek again with resounding smack.

Relieved to be free of Sam's good natured taunting, she happily took her seat next to Rachel at the desk they shared and sighed. She hoped her cheeks weren't still flaming.

"Something funny?" Rachel leaned in and asked with poorly contained jealousy.

It made her blood boil to see the two blondes giggling and whispering as they walked in. Rachel had gotten better at controlling her jealousy about Sam, even reaching a point of precarious acceptance, but all that vanished in the blink of an eye after she and Quinn had taken that ultimate step towards their intimacy. Now Rachel knew for certain she wasn't going to share Quinn ever and she shouldn't have to. It seemed to have the opposite effect on Quinn though, because the blonde seemed strangely more comfortable with letting Sam be around her, even when Rachel was there. It was one of the most frustrating and yes, at times extremely hurtful, things Rachel had ever experienced. It was all so confusing!

So it didn't help that Quinn's cheeks turned a rosy color as she shook her head shyly. "Not that funny."

She wasn't even going to give her any details?

Dejected, feeling left out, and struggling to tamp down the angry flames of jealousy, Rachel realized she was white knuckling the desk. Quinn didn't seem to notice, her head down and her hand on her neck as she scribbled in her notebook.

Desperate to find a way to calm herself from the feelings that threatened to overwhelm her, Rachel just started to hum. It seemed to work a little because the further into the song she got, the more she could feel her grip start to loosen. Her rapidly pounding heart slowed to normalcy once again.

Quinn's ears perked up when she heard Rachel softly humming 'Come What May' to herself.

What made her sing that now?

Was she trying to tell her something? Was she trying to torture her in the middle of class when she couldn't do anything about it? Quinn so wished she could be closer to her right now, to be able to touch her. It was their song… Instead, she had to settle and take a risk all at the same time. It had always been hard not to touch Rachel when they were in public, but ever since they made love, it became damn near impossible! Quinn would find herself halfway there, to brush Rachel's hand, hug her, kiss her cheek, jeez, she'd even been an inch away from nuzzling her once, before she realized what she was doing and narrowly escaped catastrophe each time. It was so instinctive now, so natural, and now they had to fight to override it. Quinn knew Rachel struggled with it too, seeing her hand move towards her, only to drop itself quickly or pretend like she was reaching for something else. This was going to drive them both mad.

Just another year; it's not that long. You can do this.

Leaning on her chin casually, Quinn ever so slowly inched her leg over to Rachel's until she was close enough to hook her foot around the brunette's ankle. Rachel sat up with a start and stared straight ahead, but there was a brilliant smile on her face.

Class had already started so they couldn't talk, but a few minutes later, Quinn slid a piece of paper towards Rachel.

You're going to have to stop wearing perfume.

Rachel gave her a bewildered look and wrote back.

Why? I thought you said you liked this one.

Quinn shook her head discreetly.

I love it, but Sam just told me before I came in that I smell like you. I can't go through school smelling like my girlfriend no matter how much I'd like to. Someone will figure it out. I think I might have to shower before Glee just to escape Santana.

Rachel's eyes widened as she read and it took her a few minutes to write back.

He could actually smell me on you?

Quinn threw her a flirtatious look and furtively moved her smooth, naked calf up and down over Rachel's.

All over me, baby.

The brunette gnawed on her lower lip anxiously and shifted in her seat. Quinn just smiled and kept her eyes forward with their ankles still hooked around each other. It was a really…really long time before that bell rang.

It was the last class of the day and Rachel was literally bouncing with excitement. It had nothing to do with the fact that it was the end of the school day or even that Glee club was soon, but that in her hands was this week's letter from Quinn. She had her head down as she tried to read and walk at the same time, too eager to wait, and ended up colliding with Santana as they both tried to walk into the classroom at the same time.

"Out of my way, dwarf!" Santana barked. "God!"

Rachel just rolled her eyes and let the Latina pass before going in after her and raced to her seat to keep reading her letter. She should have known better. She should have exercised more caution. She should have waited until she was somewhere private to read because she should have known!

But she didn't.

As Rachel read through the letter, she turned a deep shade of red at the words on the page, smiling from ear to ear. Her enamored glow was like a red alert going off in the room for Santana who sat just across from her. She knew there was something seriously up with the diva and she had to know EXACTLY what.

When class began, she watched Rachel carefully slip the letter into her folder and sit up straight to pay attention to the lesson. She also noticed, most pointedly, how the brunette squeezed her thighs together tightly for the better part of class. After the bell rang and all the other kids were climbing over each other to make it out the door, Rachel simply bounded up to Mr. Guerin for her usual barrage of questions about the day's lesson and homework. As she kept chattering away at the weary looking man who wanted nothing more than to be done with his day too, Rachel never saw Santana's wicked grin when she left the room.

It was quiet and warm in the auditorium as Quinn sat there alone as she waited. She ran her fingers over the keys, playing a few scales lightly as she tried to recover those foggy memories of childhood piano lessons. Ever since joining Glee, she'd thought of taking up lessons again. She'd always liked the piano. It wasn't until cheerleading became her primary focus - a more useful one with how it looked on her transcripts, not to mention the social benefits - that she gave up her lessons altogether and didn't look back.

She found herself looking back a lot now, especially these last few months ever since things really started with Rachel. She let herself remember the past and she saw it all with new eyes. Was it just that hindsight is 20/20 or was it that being with Rachel…allowing herself to love Rachel…had that changed her so much that even her past didn't look the same anymore?

"QUINN!" that familiar, annoyed voice rang out, bringing an instant smile to her face. Tiny but fierce footsteps scrambled up the steps to the stage. "Why did you ask me to meet you here? We're going to be late for Glee club!"

Quinn didn't bother to move until Rachel's hand touched her shoulder and she spun around suddenly on the bench, yanking the brunette down onto her lap to straddle her, and attacked her mouth.

Rachel yelped in surprise, but didn't hesitate to return the kiss in kind, wrapping her arms around Quinn's shoulders. She sighed with relief to feel Rachel near her again like this, to feel her frame against her, how she fit in her arms. They'd just spent last night together, and this morning, but for what it felt like…it was too long. Quinn grabbed her ass and pulled her in closer, their hips rocked together with tantalizing friction. Rachel moaned and the simple sound sent tiny shivers of electricity running through her body. Their tongues slid together again and again, delving deeper each time before pulling back playfully. Quinn may have started it, but Rachel was in control now with a hand fisted in Quinn's hair as she played with her lips and her tongue, taking whatever she wanted and giving Quinn exactly what she needed at the same time. The brunette's dress was already shoved up to her waist so Quinn's hand slipped beneath the underwear-clad curve of her ass to grasp bare skin while the other went up to cup Rachel's cheek.

"W-what if someone sees?" Rachel panted as she broke away long enough to get it out before diving back in.

It was some time before the blonde was released again for another breath.

"No one will see. Kiss me."

She did. Quinn dropped her hand from Rachel's face to trace her fingers lightly across her jaw then drifted down her neck, before palming her breasts. She loved being able to touch Rachel like this, so freely, without hesitation on either side. They both knew they wanted this and there was such freedom in that knowledge that it made Quinn feel bolder than ever, bold enough to do what she was about to do on the stage, curtains wide, for anyone to witness should they walk in.

Was it reckless? Of course. Did she care? Not at the moment.

Quinn just needed her.

She sucked in a breath of much needed oxygen as she tore away from those very…very addictive lips and dove into Rachel's throat. Quinn breathed her in deeply, pressing kisses to every exposed inch of sweet skin she could find, nipping her ear and jaw when she could.

"Quinn…" Rachel moaned, but she could hear the concern in her voice.

"I've been thinking about you all day," she mumbled, popping open the, thank God, conveniently placed buttons on the front of Rachel's dress before snaking her hand in to touch her more fully. Everything Rachel wore should be easily removed, in five seconds or less. She wondered if she could somehow steal half of Rachel's wardrobe. That would force her to wear fewer layers…

"M-me too."

The brunette gasped and rolled her hips against her instinctively; grasping Quinn anywhere she could touch her, pulling her closer as she tried to find the best way possible to hold on to her. Her fingers dug into her skin and Quinn moaned wanting nothing more than to touch her in return.

She left Rachel's throat to bury her face against her breasts, licking and biting at the fragile flesh of her cleavage and impatiently pulled the bra aside so she could reach what she really wanted. When her mouth closed around a nipple, Rachel whimpered, holding the back of Quinn's head to keep her there. Quinn was more than happy to oblige.

Wetness pooled between her own thighs as Rachel keened and moved against her while Quinn sucked and licked at those breasts she had come to know so intimately. She loved the shape and size, the weight of them in her hands, the way they felt against her tongue. They were made for her, just like Rachel was made for her. Once during their lovemaking, she'd slipped and said it out loud. Instead of Rachel laughing at her for being so absurd, she just kissed her with all her might, telling her that she felt the same.

As Quinn nursed on those perfect breasts, and they were perfect to her, switching back and forth so neither felt neglected, Rachel thrust her hips against her, making the blonde moan at the way her body reacted to each movement. If Quinn were honest, she could do this for hours…but they didn't have that luxury. Yet.

She so longed for the day they would, when they wouldn't be forced to rush or keep each other quiet, or worry about who might find them. The day when they could just throw away the rest of the world and spend the day in bed with each other, exploring and laughing and kissing until they couldn't bear it anymore and gave in to exhaustion - only to wake up and do it all over again. Quinn wanted that life so badly sometimes, she could hardly breathe.

For now though…for now she could do this.

As her mouth continued to move over Rachel's breasts, her whole body ached with need. She slid her fingers along Rachel's side, digging slightly into the soft flesh, while her lips latched once more onto a pert nipple and flicked it harshly with the tip of her tongue. She reached down, pushing Rachel's panties to the side, and dipped her fingers into the already drenched folds.

"God, Rachel!" she groaned at feeling the other girl's arousal. She hadn't expected her to be this far along so quickly. Quinn traced the soft wetness of her folds, before moving upwards and circling just along the outside of that throbbing flashpoint.

Oh, there was definitely no stopping her now.

"A-are we really going to do this…here?" Rachel whimpered, sounding unsure, and she lifted her head to scan the room.

There was no one there.

"You say that like you're not dripping all over me," Quinn purred seductively with nerve she didn't know she possessed.

She continued to explore her, dancing her fingers through the folds and around her dripping wet entrance. Quinn couldn't imagine not touching her, couldn't imagine stopping; she would never stop.

"But Quinn-"

Not willing to let Rachel over think this, she circled her thumb around the protruding bundle of nerves and thrust two fingers inside of her without warning. Quinn bit her lower lip fiercely, her whole body tensed at the feeling of being inside the brunette. It was almost absurd how much it affected her too, how it made her feel to have Rachel so tight and wet around her - all the while knowing that she'd caused it.

"Oh, God!" Rachel cried. Her lips crashed into Quinn's desperately, her tongue plunged into her mouth, setting the blonde's senses alight with a most delicious taste of Rachel Berry. She could live on just that taste alone, she was sure of it.

They'd done this more times than she could count by now, but it was always that same jolt, that spark, that same genuine surprise. Somehow, she didn't think she'd ever get used to this. She pumped her fingers sporadically in and out of the soaking heat, not even thinking about what she was doing because Rachel was sucking on her tongue and she was cross-eyed.

When the diva pulled away to breathe, Quinn used that as her chance to seize control again. She ripped open Rachel's dress all the way and wrapped one arm around her bare waist for leverage.

She gazed up into Rachel's lust darkened eyes and said, "Ride me."

The brunette shuddered against her, but never looked away.

"Pull your skirt up," she demanded breathlessly.

Quinn didn't hesitate, she knew Rachel wasn't going to do a thing unless she got what she wanted too, so she gathered up her long skirt hastily and pushed it back until Rachel could reach under. Her eyebrows lifted into her hairline and Quinn chuckled.

"You've been going around all day like this?"

"Felt like the day for it."

"If I had known…"

"…we would have been doing this hours ago."

"Not fair, Quinn," she whined. "You can't do that to me."

"Can," she shot back tauntingly, "and did."

She promptly yanked off Quinn's shirt. "From now on you are absolutely required to tell me when you are not wearing any underwear. It's a rule."

"A relationship rule?"

"Our relationship rule!"

With that, Rachel slammed herself down on Quinn's fingers still inside of her, causing them both to forget anything more about words and silly things like that. There was only one thing needed and they needed it now. When Rachel found a rhythm with her hips as she gyrated and thrust against Quinn, so did her hand between Quinn's legs. The blonde was going into sensory overload. Together they moaned and rocked together, Quinn nuzzled Rachel's breasts, nipping and sucking with pure delight as she held her tightly, holding her hips in place while Rachel arched her back as she undulated against Quinn.

There was nothing said between them as the stage echoed with various gasps and moans of pleasure. For every thrust Rachel gave, Quinn returned it. Both her hand and her hips were moving with Rachel. The brunette circled and stroked, driving Quinn closer and closer to that breaking point. Each sound Rachel made, every touch, made her throb with desire, until she could feel herself trembling as they worked towards that glorious end. Rachel tore away Quinn's bra and palmed her breasts eagerly with her free hand, running her thumb across the hardened peaks. There was nothing Quinn craved more than to have Rachel touch her like this. She loved those soft, small, and extraordinarily talented hands running across every inch of her body. Rachel always knew how to touch her. Quinn only prayed she was able to bring Rachel half as much pleasure as the brunette gave her.

Having Rachel pressed against her, her fingers moving in and out of the sopping heat was almost more than Quinn could handle. Moaning, she tucked her head into Rachel's neck, attacking the hollow of her throat with lips, teeth, and tongue. The pace grew faster and more frantic with each passing second. Quinn could feel it building up inside of her, she was so close, so ready to break. Was Rachel?

As if to answer her question, Rachel threw herself forward, knocking Quinn off guard, and her back hit the piano keys causing a cacophony of discordant notes that echoed through the auditorium - neither cared.

Now that Rachel was almost completely on top of her, Quinn ignored the pain digging into her back, and freed her arm from Rachel's waist, to dip down and circle over that swollen bundle, flicking over it. She had to bite back a whimper at how good it felt, Rachel was all over her, so wet, so perfect, so hers.

The brunette cried out helplessly and Quinn used that moment to look up at her. Dark hair cascaded over her, those perfectly swollen, bee-stung lips were parted as she panted. Her cheeks were flushed and she was covered with a slight sheen of sweat. The way her hips moved against her, the desperate look in her eyes…it was almost more than Quinn could bear. Rachel was lost and wild, she threw her head back in abandon before meeting her gaze again. There was no hiding here. There were no secrets, no shame, no fear. Just love. Quinn could see it in her eyes - Rachel was so close to the same end, to finding that with her. She was so vulnerable, so beautiful…

The blonde whimpered involuntarily when she felt Rachel shuddering around her fingers as she continued to shift down on them, working more frantically with each passing second.

As if her body had a mind of its own, Quinn reached up and pulled Rachel down to her mouth before bucking against her hand and everything exploded into white.

As they panted and trembled against each other, she sighed into Rachel's mouth contentedly. Quinn kissed her sweetly again and again, nibbling on her bottom lip playfully before finally releasing her. The brunette slumped against her while Quinn tried to regain her strength enough to sit back up, the edge of the piano digging painfully into her back. Rachel didn't bother trying to move from her lap as Quinn shifted forward again and for that she was grateful – she wasn't ready to let go yet. With shy smiles and giggles here and there, they gently petted each other, trying to right askew clothing and straighten mussed hair. Quinn buttoned Rachel's dress back up with a lazy grin and Rachel lifted herself up just enough to smooth out Quinn's skirt so it draped across her legs once more.

"What was that all about?" she asked a bit breathlessly, but with an adoring smile all the same.

"Just felt the need for a little afternoon delight…" Quinn teased.

"You want dessert?" She scrunched her nose in befuddlement. "I thought you didn't have much of a sweet tooth. You're not very big on chocolate or-"

Quinn giggled delightedly and shook her head. Sometimes Rachel could be so naïve about sex, it astounded her, especially considering how abashedly unashamed and well versed she was in the actual act of it. The diva was baffled and a little miffed at missing out on the joke, so Quinn explained.

"Oh," she squeaked, brown eyes widening, and nodded. "Well…uh…that song makes a lot more sense now."

Quinn laughed harder, but at Rachel's glare, she sobered and tried to put on a show of sympathy for her girlfriend.

"It's okay, sweetie, it's an easy mistake. Don't worry about it, but now that you know…"

"…I'm sure that I'll be taking full advantage of it." She beamed. "I loved your letter today. Though I'm sure you could tell…" If her cheeks hadn't already been flushed with exertion, Quinn knew she would be blushing.

The very realization made her quiver. Rachel had been so wet; Quinn knew most of it had been from something earlier, but she didn't put together that Rachel would have reacted that strongly to something she wrote. Even if it was about…

"That was from me?"

"You made me so wet, Quinn!" Rachel admitted with her eyes wide. "D-did you really do that? Touch yourself while picturing…" she trailed off blushing.

The blonde nodded shyly. They both knew what a big step that had been for her, let alone actually telling Rachel about it.

"I thought I was going to have to run out of the class and find you right then."

"Why didn't you?"

She rolled her eyes. "I do make it a point to exercise a modicum of self control…"

"Self control sucks."

Rachel chuckled. "Says the girl who tried to repress her true feelings for a decade!"

"I learned my lesson!"

"I think we should try phone sex sometime soon."

"Rach!"

"What?" she replied innocently. "Too soon? That's okay. Perhaps after a few more attempts with you exploring…you'd feel comfortable enough."

"You'd really want to do that…over the phone?" she asked unsurely.

"For lack of a better alternative on those nights when we can't be together…"

Quinn took a deep breath. "I'll…think about it."

Rachel giggled and touched her nose to hers. "You do that."

Okay. Here it was. Now or never.

Quinn took a deep breath and summoned all the courage she could find for this.

"I also, um, wanted to see you because…well, because I have something for you."

"For me?" the diva's eyes lit up like a child on Christmas day. "A present?"

She leaned down and picked up a small, neatly wrapped box from underneath the piano bench and handed it to Rachel while nodding shyly. "A present for you."

"Oh, but, Quinn!" she cried, looking down at the box in dismay. "There's no occasion! It's not my birthday, o-or any holiday, and you said you didn't like celebrating anniversaries… I don't have anything for you!"

The blonde just laughed. "This is a 'no occasion' gift. Just something I wanted you to have. Besides, I was thinking about that 'no anniversary' thing. While celebrating it every month is just not gonna happen - we're beyond that, Rach. We don't need each month to be a milestone like every other high school relationship…"

"But?" she tried hopefully.

"We could do semi-annual anniversaries?" Quinn sighed. "I know how much you love this kind of thing and it's not right for me to take that away from you so I would be willing to compromise…"

"Ah!" Rachel squealed and clapped her hands excitedly."Like half birthdays? Do you really mean it? OH! Could we do half birthdays too?"

"You just like any reason to celebrate and get presents and be the center of attention."

"And there's something wrong with that?"

Quinn rolled her eyes good naturedly. "I guess not."

"So we get two anniversaries every year?"

"That's what I said."

"And half birthdays?"

"Don't push it."

"You are aware that our 6-month anniversary is in a few weeks?"

"I am," Quinn nodded with a straight face. "Already bought you your anniversary present."

Rachel looked like she was going to pass out from sheer excitement and possibly the pressure of knowing that she now had only a few weeks to find something for Quinn. She knew her girlfriend and the diva was going to obsess over the anniversary gift endlessly, starting now probably. Then Rachel's brow suddenly furrowed in confusion.

"But this isn't the anniversary present?"

"Nope. Are you ever going to open it? We're seriously late for Glee club…"

At that, Rachel promptly ripped into it, tearing off the wrapping paper with vigor and tossed aside the bow before she opened the velvet covered box and froze.

"Don't freak out; just let me explain-"

"It's not…that's not…" she stammered, "it's not real is it?"

"It is." She smiled and took the diamond tennis bracelet out of the box, clasping it around Rachel's wrist before she had a chance to refuse. It looked just like she imagined it would and something inside her chest squeezed, but not unpleasantly. It was…right.

"Oh, Quinn," she breathed, her pupils as wide as saucers as she stared at the beautiful bracelet now adorning her wrist. It was easily the most expensive thing she'd ever worn. "No, you can't! It's too much! I can't accept this. How could you even afford…"

"I said not to freak out," she said laughingly.

"But it's just so-"

"Rach, I didn't buy it for you."

The diva pursed her lips, looking very put-off. "Are you re-gifting, Quinn Fabray?"

"Kind of," she admitted and then rolled her eyes at Rachel's outraged visage. "Stop it! Just listen and then when I'm done you can throw it back in my face if you still want to."

Rachel was looking more and more displeased by the second, but she was quiet so Quinn knew that was her chance.

"It was my bracelet. I…I got it for Christmas one year when I was fourteen. Sort of. You see…my parents had been fighting all week long. It was awful. That was the first time my Mom ever found out about him cheating. She eventually forgave him for it though, as you know, but this was the first. It was, um…an absolute nightmare. Every year my parents would throw a huge Christmas Eve party. Everyone from Church came, the important people anyway. It was considered one of the biggest social events of the year, Christmas Eve at the Fabrays." She said it with a mocking lilt in her voice, smiling like someone had screwed it on. Then it fell away again.

"Every year, for as long as I can remember, I would wear my nicest party dress, always white of course, spend all day brushing my hair so it would be perfect, and make myself into the shining example of the darling, dutiful angel of a daughter. Then after church, I would sit through an insufferably long party with a bunch of boring adults and bratty kids that I hated even the sight of. Of course, my parents managed to pull it together enough for their annual Christmas Eve spectacular. They are Fabrays after all, and I was naïve enough to think that meant they would come together enough to keep Christmas intact."

She shrugged diffidently and Rachel chose that moment to comb her fingers through Quinn's hair. It felt good. It felt grounding. It was like she was telling her without telling her that she was safe to keep going. So she did.

"That wasn't the case. Mom practically drank herself into a coma that night; it was…" Quinn tried to find the word for it, "humiliating. She eventually passed out in her bed, fully clothed, after the guests left, and Dad…I don't even know where he was. I don't want to know. When I woke up the next morning, Mom was still knocked out, the house was a disaster, Dad wasn't home, and my older sister had wisely chosen to stay at school for the holidays."

Quinn swallowed thickly.

"I made myself breakfast and opened all my presents by myself; the ones I had gotten for my parents were left untouched under the tree. I spent that Christmas day alone, watching specials on TV in my pajamas. I don't even get along with my sister, but I would have…I would have even taken her over being alone, and I couldn't go to anyone else's house because then they would know… Well, I just dealt with it."

Rachel brushed her fingers across Quinn's cheek, her brown eyes filled with...it wasn't pity, no, Rachel wouldn't pity her, but rather it was something like pain. Rachel hurt, but not because of her, for her. The touch was so distracting Quinn had to deliberately force herself to stay on track.

"Anyway, Mom was on a bender for like a month until she eventually came out of it enough to somehow forgive my Dad and they made up. Things were kind of back to normal…or whatever is normal for us, I guess. Then she came in one day and handed me this." Quinn tapped the bracelet with a sigh. "She said it was her way of saying sorry for how badly they behaved and how my Christmas had been ruined. It was also a giant 'eff you to my Dad because of how ridiculously extravagant it was. He couldn't say anything, no matter how much money she spent on it, 'cause it was for me and they were guilty. Mom made me wear it for the rest of the day, just to rub it in my Dad's face, but after that I never put it on again."

"Why?" she asked softly.

"It was never going to make up for what happened. It couldn't make me forgive her. In fact, it was only just a reminder of how lonely I was."

"So…" Rachel looked down at the glittering jewelry on her wrist.

"So…" Quinn took her hand in hers and traced her index finger over the diamonds. "I think Mom just finally made up for that Christmas."

"I don't understand."

"It never felt like it was mine, Rachel. I never wanted it. I wanted a family that could actually…" She couldn't finish that. "I didn't want more make-up or new clothes or a stupid tennis bracelet, but now I'm glad she gave this to me. I'm so glad because it means I get to give you something beautiful and…" she laughed softly to herself, "just seeing it on you now is making that memory hurt less. I feel like you do that all the time."

"I make your memories hurt less?"

The blonde nodded, at a loss for anything else.

"It's…" Rachel trailed off wonderingly as she stared at the diamonds on her wrist that Quinn's finger was still tracing, "it's exquisite."

"So you can accept it, okay? I didn't buy it for you. I'm just…giving you another piece of me. That's fair game, it's not really re-gifting," she echoed Rachel's horrified tone teasingly.

"But what if you change your mind?"

"I won't."

"But what if you have the perfect outfit for it someday and then you realize you gave the bracelet away and it's ruined-"

"Then I'll borrow it from you!" Quinn burst out exasperatedly and chuckled. "But it's not mine anymore, see?" She held up Rachel's wrist and kissed her pulse point. "It's yours. It even looks like it was made for you."

Rachel kissed her with tears in her eyes. "This is the most beautiful thing anyone's ever given me…" her voice trembled, "a-and I don't mean because of how expensive it is, but because-"

"I know."

She really did know.

The brunette sniffled. "I'm sorry you had to go through something like that, Quinn. You deserve more than parents that selfish…so much more."

"I have you now."

"Yes…you most definitely do."

"So, do you like it?" she asked, resting her chin on Rachel's shoulder.

"Like it?" she giggled madly and held up the bracelet in the air to sparkle in the stage lights. "I love it! I'll never take it off. Or wait…maybe I shouldn't wear it except for special occasions. It's so valuable! I'd scratch it or something."

"Wear it whenever you want."

"Do you like seeing it on me?"

"I love it."

"Then I'll wear it every day…and just take extra care of it."

Quinn took her hand and helped Rachel stand. They tried to fix each other up as best they could, to make it somewhat less obvious what they'd just been doing. Rachel was giggling as she ran her fingers through Quinn's hair to smooth it down.

"What?"

The diva shrugged, still smiling. "It just seems like you're determined to fulfill all my fantasies."

"Fantasies?" she echoed curiously.

"You have no idea how many times I've imagined having sex with you on this stage."

"Really…" Quinn purred, leaning in with a roguish look on her face. "So, um, you wouldn't happen to have any other fantasies I should know about, would you?"

"More than you know what to do with."

The blonde bit her lower lip fiercely, narrowing her eyes. "That sounds like a challenge, Berry."

"I believe it was, Fabray."

"Tell me another one."

"Nu-uh," she squealed and danced out of Quinn's reach as she lunged for her. "You already know about two of my fantasies, both involving a stage. Now it's your turn."

"You want to know one of my fantasies?"

"It's only fair."

Quinn looked her over for a moment and then gathered her things without a word, sauntering off, leaving a pouting Rachel to scramble to catch up behind her.

"Are you really not going to tell me?" she asked sadly.

The blonde didn't even look at her, but as they walked up the stairs to the exit, Quinn looped her arm in Rachel's and pulled her close to whisper hotly against her ear.

"Well…there was that time you went through the Britney Spears phase…"

They were indeed late for Glee club and desperately tried not to look like the guilty parties they so obviously were. Sam rolled his eyes, while the others didn't really think much of it, too wrapped up in their own conversations to care. Quinn took her seat next to Sam while Rachel remained standing, looking around in annoyance.

"What's going on? Why isn't Mr. Schuester here yet? The lesson should have already started!"

"Chill, girl." Mercedes reluctantly broke away from her conversation with Kurt who was talking about a cute boy he met at the Lima Bean from Dalton Academy. "He wrote that he was gonna be a little late today because of a staff meeting."

She pointed to the wall behind the brunette and Rachel spun around to see Mr. Schue's handwriting scrawled across the dry erase board.

"Oh," she said, feeling a little silly, "I suppose that's alright then. We can just start without him."

"You're one to talk, Miss High and Mighty," Kurt said, crossing his legs, "you and Quinn were significantly late as well, without an excuse I might add."

Rachel turned pink and averted her gaze. "W-we…we were talking about homework. It doesn't matter! We're all here now, so why don't we discuss-"

"Remind me again how you two are friends?" Tina interjected. "I feel like we're living in a parallel universe."

"Because we just are," Quinn replied briskly.

"Oh, that explains it, thank you."

"I think it's a good thing," Mike said with a shrug at his girlfriend. "There's no more of that 'grr' scary girl stuff happening with you guys."

"Thank you, Mike," the diva said with a nod and quickly went on to change the subject. "As we all know, Nationals is just around the corner and we have yet to work on our original songs-"

"Santana's not here yet," Brittany interrupted. "We can't start without her."

"Well, where is she?" Rachel huffed exasperatedly, throwing her hands in the air.

"Look, just because you're co-Captain-" Mercedes started in and Quinn leaned forward like she was going to intervene, but Sam put his arm across her, physically warning her not to go too far. None of them got to finish because at that moment Santana strode in with the smuggest look on her face which everyone knew meant something bad was coming.

"You're late!" Rachel snapped.

Santana glided right by her as if she didn't hear a word and set her bag down on the chair.

"So were you!" Lauren piped up from the back.

Rachel growled in frustration. Her authority was being usurped just because of one instance of tardiness? After all the times she'd been the first to arrive? This wasn't fair! They came in late ALL the time and just because she took one opportunity to… OH! They were such hypocrites!

"So sorry everyone!" Santana chirped pleasantly and smiled around the room.

It nearly gave them frostbite.

"I just had to make a pit-stop, but I have something here that I really believe should be brought to your attention. Now, collectively, we have the right to know about certain members' doings because secrets only hurt the team. And, well!" she said brightly, lifting her shoulders, "With Nationals right around the corner, we need to be at our very best, don't we?"

"Bitch, what are you on about?" Mercedes asked tiredly.

Tina nodded in agreement. "Yeah, you're kind of weirding us out."

"Scaring the bejeesus out of us, more like it," Artie muttered.

Santana's sickly sweet smile vanished for a split second as she glared at him with pure venom, causing Artie to lean back as if she were about to strike, before regaining control over herself and moving on smoothly.

"I'm SO glad you asked! Because…" she pulled out a few pieces of folded paper from her backpack and held them up pinched between her fingers victoriously, "this will explain everything."

There was a loud gasp behind her, but Santana didn't bother to turn around. Her smile only grew wider.

Rachel recognized it from the minute Santana held it up.

Quinn's letter!

Her mind worked furiously to fit the pieces together. How on earth could Santana have gotten her claws on it? When did she have it last? Dammit! When did she have it last! THINK! In class. Oh! She had been reading it class - the class she shared with Santana!

Rachel cursed so loudly in her head, she was sure everyone else heard it too.

How could she have been so utterly BRAINLESS? It must have happened when she was engaged with Mr. Guerin. Santana must have snuck up to her desk while her back was turned and stolen the letter out from her folder!

Rachel wanted to dig herself a hole and lie down in it. It would save Quinn the trouble of a messy clean up after she murdered her. Santana saw something that was meant to be shared between them and only them, something precious and sacred. And because of Rachel's carelessness, it was now not only profaned, but it would destroy them! Even though the letter wasn't signed, Santana knew Quinn well enough to recognize her handwriting. That meant she knew. If she knew, they were seconds away from the entire club knowing too. Then it would be the school; then it was over. Quinn would never come near her again.

Without even thinking, Rachel lunged forward and tried to snatch the paper out of Santana's hands, but the other girl was too fast. She just laughed as she held the letter out of Rachel's reach.

"Oh, I don't think so, Berry, but nice try. You're not squirming your way out of it this time, though it seems someone else does just love when you squirm..." She eyed the letter knowingly. "I told you it would happen sooner or later. I told you I would find it out. Didn't listen, did you?"

Quinn hadn't moved a muscle since Santana pulled out her letter, but Rachel didn't dare let herself look at the blonde directly. She wanted to cry thinking about what Quinn might be thinking right now, hating her probably, thinking about running, maybe getting up and denying the whole thing as an act of some unrequited crush on Rachel's part, to make it seem like Quinn wrote her a love letter.

Her mind was going a mile a minute and she knew she was moments away from hitting the wall.

Sam looked between Quinn and Rachel's mirrored expressions of terror and it didn't take him but a second to jump into action. He didn't know what this was about, what Santana had in her hands, but it didn't matter. If it was making his girls look like this…he knew it was bad. While Santana was distracted with taunting Rachel, he leapt off the risers and snatched it out of her hands easily. The Latina whirled around on him in annoyance, folding her arms across her chest.

"You shouldn't take things that aren't yours," he said sternly. "What's with the game?"

Finn, who hadn't really been paying attention until this point, suddenly snapped awake when Sam got involved. "Yeah, Santana! Why don't you just lay off Rachel?"

Ignoring Finn, Santana's eyes widened and she leaned into Sam, looking him over from head to toe. "So you're in on it!" she said with a wicked grin. "Damn, boy! Just when I was about to feel sorry for you…"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he snapped. "Just back off, okay?"

"Keep it if you want." She shrugged uncaringly. "It's a pretty steamy beat off for your poor boys there… Don't worry, I gots plenty of copies."

Horrified, Rachel looked to Sam for help, but he didn't know what to do either. They were out of ideas as they watched on helplessly while the Latina went over to her bag, pulling out what looked like an identical copy of the papers Sam held crushed in his fist.

"Now, as I was saying, before they so rudely interrupted…"

Rachel wanted to dive after her again, but what good would it do? Sam was shifting back and forth on his feet restlessly, looking to do the same, yet they were powerless to stop her. With the amount of time Santana had, she could have made a hundred copies, and likely did. Everything was seconds away from crashing down around them when suddenly Quinn jumped out of her seat.

"OUT!"

It was the HBIC Captain of the Cheerios now, official title notwithstanding, that stared vicious daggers into Santana while pointing to the door.

For some reason, that seemed to be the reaction the Latina was looking for all along because she simply folded the paper over with a satisfied smirk and followed the stewing blonde out the door. Rachel watched them go with a sickly feeling in her stomach.

"I don't get it," Finn said. "What's going on?"

Chapter Text

Quinn knew from the second she saw Rachel's face what Santana had. She knew it long before she ever glimpsed her own handwriting on those pages as the Latina waved them around. It felt like her heart stopped in her chest - just stopped. She didn't even know how she continued to breathe, but she must have, because she was still alive. You don't not breathe and stay alive.

Santana read one of their letters. Santana knew. Santana knew everything.

They'd grown up together. For better or for worse, this girl was one of her oldest friends. Maybe 'frenemies' was a better way of putting it, though they hadn't always been like that. Now she knew Quinn's secret. After all those years of tormenting Rachel Berry with Santana by her side, participating with such vigor, now the Latina knew the truth.

And from the look in her eyes, Quinn knew Santana wanted to hurt her with it. She just didn't understand why. Of all people…

Did she think she was stupid? Of course Quinn knew! All those years of being friends with her and Brittany, did Santana think she was so naïve, so Christian, so virginal, that she couldn't see what was right before her eyes? Yet, here she was, standing in the hallway with a girl who used to be one of her closest friends, or at least as close a friend as she had before Rachel and Sam, and that same girl was threatening to ruin her.

For a moment, Quinn wondered if that pain, of betrayal, of loss, outweighed the fear she felt right now… How had things between them gone so wrong that it came to this? She hated high school, she hated McKinley. She hated everything about it. High school was where it went wrong, when everyone became so incredibly screwed up - junior high was only a preview. Here was where the madness began and here was where she hoped it ended too.

Santana was her friend once. She knew the kind of person that lay deep down inside her. She remembered those sleepovers where they would talk all night about their families, about their fears, about the idiots in school… She remembered the way Santana would look at Brittany.

The way she still looked at her.

Did Santana remember that too? Or was she too lost to care? Quinn couldn't risk it. There had to be some way to stop her. She didn't know how yet, but she was sure as hell going to figure it out. There was no way she was going down without a fight. Maybe Santana didn't even have one of the more explicit letters. Maybe she'd just come across a silly one and decided that was enough evidence.

Quinn made sure to close the door to the choir room behind them and stepped closer to the lockers, looking around them to ensure they wouldn't be overheard. Once she was sure they were in the clear, Quinn turned on her, moving in close with a growl.

"What do you want?"

"The truth," she replied simply.

Quinn raised her eyebrow and shrugged. "About?"

"Don't waste my time playing dumb, Blondie," Santana scoffed, "otherwise I'mma head back in there and read it out loud for all to hear and if you think you can stop me, just wait till tomorrow morning when this," she waved the papers in front of her nose, "is plastered over every inch of this building. No hiding anymore, Q, I won. Now talk."

"What do you even have?" she huffed and snatched the papers out of Santana's hand.

Skimming it, her face burned, with anger or embarrassment, she wasn't sure - probably both. Sure enough, it was the letter she had given to Rachel today…not one of the more innocent ones as she had hoped. Crumpling the paper in her fist, she dropped her hand to her side and fixated on the Latina once more.

"You can't prove it's from me," she said tersely.

Santana chuckled. "Oh come on, Q! Let's just put aside the fact that I know your handwriting like I know my own...all those handwritten Cheerios orders? Plus I've copied off of you for practically every test we've had since first grade…but you know what?" She snapped her fingers as if suddenly realizing something. "You're right! I didn't have solid evidence…" the corners of her mouth turned up in a sneer, "that is until you stood up."

Quinn's eyes widened as the mistake came barreling into her head setting off every alarm.

"Thanks for that by the way," Santana chuckled. "It would have been a little harder to convince people if you hadn't gone out of your way to make my job even easier! If anyone in the club reads this now, they'll know who's responsible. A girl's handwriting, bearing a remarkable resemblance to yours, you dragging me out here…"

She gestured widely to the empty hallway.

"Face it, Q, you dug this grave and then you buried yourself in it. I didn't even have to hand you a shovel."

She folded her arms across her chest smugly. Quinn could hear the blood roaring in her ears as she tried to tamp down on her rage. She wanted nothing more than to slap that grin off her face…and pull her hair until she yanked that damn weave out!

Santana had played her! If she had just stayed seated, there would have been no way to prove the letter came from her, handwriting notwithstanding. Quinn could have talked her way out of it easily. Forgery was more believable than the actual truth for the Glee Club at this point. Santana knew that. She'd manipulated Quinn into thinking she had no choice, made her too angry to think clearly…

Her cheeks were blazing now and it had nothing to do with embarrassment. Santana's smirk grew, if that was even possible. She seemed to savor every minute of watching Quinn realize her mistake. Winning against the once-upon-a-time Captain of the Cheerios? It was glorious! Now it was her turn to hold the cards. Quinn was going to pay for how she'd treated her!

"Why are you doing this?" Quinn said through gritted teeth. Her knuckles had gone white around the paper, hand just itching to collide with that face, but she had to stay in control. Brawling with Santana was never a good idea.

"Why wouldn't I?" she retorted. "It's the perfect chance to ruin you once and for all and not just your measly chance for Prom Queen, but everything. You know what they say about payback? I'm the bitch. You got me dropped to the bottom of the pyramid. Now I'm gonna drop you to bottom feeding scum of this school. The infamous Quinn Fabray swimming full on in the lezzie pool with none other than social pariah Rachel Berry? It's like Christmas, Easter, and my birthday all rolled into one."

Quinn was so horrified that it took her a few moments to even gather the words to respond. "What is wrong with you?" She gaped. "How can you be so…"

"You got exactly 30 seconds to start talking, Q," Santana snapped, "or this goes viral. Bye bye Prom Queen. Bye bye rep. Bye bye Mommy and Daddy. Oh! You don't think you'll get your little flat white ass dropkicked to the street again?"

She almost hit her. She really did. She even flinched to make the move, but it never came.

"I'm in love with her, Santana."

"Someone needs to go all ninja, yo, and sneak out there to find out what they're talking about!" Artie slapped his hands down on the arms of his wheelchair excitedly.

"Who's the littlest?" Mercedes suggested. "They'll stand out less."

"The skinny ass pale kid here is probably your best bet." Lauren kicked the back of Kurt's chair.

"Excuse me!," he sniped, affronted. "My complexion is fair and flawless due to my zealous avoidance of skin damaging ultraviolet rays… And don't do that again."

"Or you'll do what? Exactly?"

"Lauren," he turned around to face her calmly, "while I both understand and appreciate you finding a way to use hostility as a personality defining factor in order for you to navigate the jungle-like, animal infested halls of McKinley, it is really quite unnecessary for you to employ it in this forum."

There was an awkward silence.

"Just don't kick my chair again," he finished with a little less vigor, gulping.

Lauren stared at him for a long, hard moment and then just shrugged, settling back comfortably. "Fair enough," she agreed.

Kurt let out a sigh of relief and Mercedes gave him a sympathetic nod.

"Okay, so Puck should go!" Artie jumped in again, determined to get to the bottom of this. "I'd do it myself but I haven't greased my wheels this week. Squeaking as I roll up the hallway isn't exactly super ninja…"

"Like hell I'm going out there!" Puck cried, waving his arm at the door. "Those chicks are looking to rip something off and I ain't going anywhere near them."

"Afraid for your manhood?" Lauren taunted.

"My livelihood," he corrected her. "The Puckasaurus can't live without them."

"Can we please not talk about your balls?" Tina muttered. "Or anything else in that area, 'cause I seriously think I might vomit."

"Whatever! All the same, I ain't going out there."

"Well somebody should," Mike said. "What if they start throwing down?"

Puck shot up straight in his seat, clearly interested now. "Okay, maybe I could go scope it out."

"I don't see why we have to eavesdrop," Brittany said casually. "It's about Rachel, isn't it? And Rachel's right here. Let's just ask her."

Kurt's eyes lit up, along with Artie's and Mercedes'. "Brittany…you astound me sometimes."

"I like being astounded. It tickles."

But Kurt wasn't listening to her anymore, having focused in on a now wincing girl who had all eyes on her in the front of the choir room. She held her hands up nervously, trying to back away from them all.

"Rachel, as the Blonde one said, this is about you and-" His gaze dropped down a bit and his mouth fell open. "For the love of Patti, Barbra, and Liza! What on earth is that gorgeous thing blinding me on your wrist?"

"Kurt!" she cried reprovingly. "Don't swear!"

"Girl, that is some serious bling!" Mercedes remarked, catching on as Kurt did to Rachel's bracelet.

The two of them leapt out of their seats in a flash and before Rachel could move, they had her snared by the wrist and were scrutinizing the jewelry with an almost professional air.

"THOSE ARE REAL DIAMONDS!" Mercedes gasped.

"Rachel Barbra Berry, how did you get your tiny, solo grasping hands on something like this! This is like wearing the average Lima-loser's yearly salary on your wrist!"

"You stole it didn't you?" Mercedes said accusingly.

"I did not! I-it was a gift," she stammered. "From…from my grandmother! She's getting old and has little use for it so she passed it down to me. It's part of my inheritance as her only grandchild."

The way Kurt and Mercedes were salivating over Quinn's present made Rachel rethink the decision to wear it every day. The diva-ettes looked like they were seconds away from ripping it off her body and making a run for it.

"Alright!" Artie interrupted. "Can we please get back to the actually important thing here? Quinn and Satan are out there battling it out over something we know nothing about, but SHE does."

Rachel yanked her hand away and held it behind her back for safety as Kurt and Mercedes refocused their attention on the 'mystery'.

"So what is it Rachel? What's Santana got on you? Send another Vocal Adrenaline member to a crackhouse? Worse? Stuff their dead body in the dumpster? I bet that's it. Quinn's trying to cover up the gruesome…"

"Shut up, Wheels!" Lauren groaned. "This isn't turning into Murder on the Orient, okay?"

"I don't think Rachel would kill anyone," Brittany said. "At least, not unless she really, really wanted a solo."

"You're all acting insane!" Sam rolled his eyes. "No one murdered anyone! Can we just stop now?"

"Quinn and Santana are outside duking it out and you really don't care why?" Finn glared at him accusingly.

"It's nothing, guys!" Rachel cried weakly. "Really…it's nothing."

No one believed her.

"WITH THAT CRAZY-ASS SUPERSONIC MIDGET IN A MINISKIRT!" Santana shrieked. "HAS THE BLEACH FINALLY SUNK TOO DEEP INTO YOUR BRAIN!"

Quinn winced at how loud it was. She looked around worriedly and hissed through her teeth, "Keep it down!"

Santana didn't yell anymore, but that didn't mean she calmed down any either. "Did shooting Puckerman's spawn out between your legs permanently screw up your head?"

Every muscle in Quinn's body tensed with anger. Her hands clenched into painful fists as blood pounded through her veins. The Latina knew she'd crossed a line, it was written all over her face.

"You wanna say that to me again?" Quinn said in a low, dangerous voice, like a tether close to snapping. She stepped in so she was hardly an inch from Santana's nose. "Go ahead...say it again."

Santana locked eyes with her for a long moment before she finally relented and looked away shamefully.

"That's what I thought."

The violent urge in her receded somewhat, but the tension was still coiled through her body. It wouldn't take much for Santana to make her snap now. Quinn was already so unraveled by this turn of events, to have another know their secret, to be so precariously close to losing everything before she could even gain it… Santana bringing up the child she had to force herself not to think about everyday from the moment she opened her eyes…it was enough to make her break.

She hadn't always been this way, she used to be better at keeping herself in control.

The Ice Queen. The Prude. The Captain of the Cheerios. The HBIC of McKinley.

In giving herself to Rachel, letting her in, it turned out the barriers weren't only down just for her. Once they came down for Rachel, to love Rachel, they were down everywhere and with everyone. The very notion scared Quinn to death – she was losing everything she'd worked so hard to build. Taking a deep breath, she tried to reel herself back in. If ever there was a time for her to be in control of her emotions, it was now.

Recovering from that dark moment as well, the Latina gathered herself as if she hadn't just been forced to back down like a dog and started again. Squaring her shoulders, she looked Quinn head on.

"Look, it's one thing to go all dykey on me, Fabray, but this? Rachel fucking Berry? Okay, I get it, Puckerman knocking you up has you a bit gun shy. You're not too keen about riding that horse again just yet, so you took a detour. Completely understandable; you still gotta get your rocks off somehow, right? Who knows that better than me? But what on God's green earth possessed you to go after Berry! And to say that you..." She shuddered, making a disgusted noise. "I even understood the twisted fucking on some level, Q. I was ready to take your princess ass down with it, but now you're telling me..." She shook her head in disbelief. "What happened to you? You HATE her! All those years we used to..."

Her jaw dropped, recognition lit up her face, and it was like Quinn could see the memories flashing through her mind, each one with a new interpretation. She knew that look.

She had been that look.

"All that time. Damn..." Santana muttered, slapping her palm to her cheek. "Qué coño! You are so much more fucked up than I ever took you for."

Quinn winced, gnawing on her bottom lip. "Can't really argue with you..."

"I knew those drawings in the bathroom were too good!" Santana said accusingly, jabbing her index finger at her. "Britts even said how hot they made her, but I wasn't really paying attention because she was..." She threw Quinn a nervous glance. "I-I just wasn't listening. Are you sure you're not just suffering from some kind of Berry disease? Maybe she talked so much you had a mini aneurysm and it's causing you to hallucinate before your head eventually implodes?"

"San, she makes me happy," the blonde shrugged helplessly. "You really think I'd risk it for just...sex?"

She gave her a hard look. "You're dead if they ever find out, Q."

"Forget about me; it doesn't matter," Quinn said firmly. "But you know...you know you can't tell. This is not about the Prom campaign. I'll even withdraw if it means so much to you."

"I'll tell you what YOU can't do..." she shot back menacingly. "You can't tell me what to do anymore! I could post these all over town and by tomorrow morning, you'd be the most talked about thing in Lima…even more than front page news. Oh! I could probably get you on there too..."

"You won't though," Quinn said confidently.

"And why is that?"

"Because we were friends once and I think we still are."

She scoffed. "You're delusional."

"And you won't because...you know how it feels."

"Yep, definitely off your teen mom rocker."

"I love Rachel, Santana, and even though you may not agree with that, you can sure as hell understand it. She - makes - me - happy. We're going to move to New York together, we're getting out of here. I just have to make sure..."

"…No one finds out until then?" Santana finished for her with a hint of amusement. "Well, kind of screwed up that one!"

"If you care even the slightest bit about me or if you ever did..." Quinn swallowed thickly, "you won't do this to me. You won't hurt her."

"Are you believing in happy endings now? Has the cynicism all been washed away? I feel like I'm talking to a pod person!"

"Just a changed one."

Santana gave a stifled cry of frustration, throwing her hands in the air. "How can you love her, Q? She's so...Berry!"

"How do you love Brittany?"

Santana bristled, flinching at the very mention of her name. Quinn could see the pain written over every inch of her body.

"Don't."

"She loves you too, I can see it."

"Just shut your face."

"You don't have to keep hiding your feelings from her, Santana. If you just told her..."

"She's with Wheels!" she cried all of a sudden. "She's with that freak and I can't..."

"Tell her that you want her all to yourself?"

"Look, I'm not…gay…alright?" She swallowed painfully. "It's not like that. You don't get to put labels on me. I'm not you!"

"No," Quinn raised an eyebrow knowingly, "you're just in love with a girl, that's all."

"What is this?" Santana wailed. "Are you suddenly all…out and proud now? Gonna join the golf team, waving the rainbow flag, and just walking around being a lez…that's OKAY with you?"

She shifted uncomfortably. "I'm…working on it. Someday I will be. It's not easy."

Santana stared at her for a long moment and it was one of those rare times that Quinn couldn't read her at all. They'd known each other for so long, there was little Santana could ever hide from her. She tried, to be sure, but Quinn always knew. They were so different in so many ways that it made their friendship wear at the seams, but then again, they were so much alike, that didn't make things easier either. The only reason Quinn had for their on-again/off-again friendship, why they always came back to each other, was because she had always seen something in the other girl. And she was pretty sure it was the same for Santana too. Why else did this invisible tie keep snapping them back together no matter how hard they tried to run?

Santana wouldn't meet her eyes, but there was something bursting to get through. "She's different, Quinn," the Latina said softly.

The walls had fallen, for however short a time. The real girl was coming through, not the nasty, vicious front she put on for everyone else. It was the Santana that Brittany knew better than anyone else in the world.

"You know she's...I won't be enough."

Quinn sighed, her heart aching for what Santana was going through. After all, it wasn't very far from her own pain. "Don't kid yourself. You are all she's ever wanted. Since we were kids, you've never been able to break Brittana apart. As if Brittany would let you leave her side...not that you ever tried or even wanted to."

"It's Santittany," she grumbled.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "You just like that because it has 'tit' in it."

"Which means you should love it too, right?" she shot back.

"Make it Rachel's tits and..." Quinn blushed, not able to finish that.

Santana couldn't quite believe her ears either.

"Who are you and what have you done to Q?"

"She got happy."

"She got laid."

"Many...many...many times…" Quinn trailed off dreamily.

"Oh, sick! Shut up! You're making my gag reflex act up."

"You actually have a gag reflex? I thought with all the dic-"

"Finish that and I will end you, right here, right now, bitch."

Quinn smirked. "So we understand each other then?"

"More than we should. I'll...burn them, okay?"

"All of them?"

"Keeping one copy just in case I need blackmail material in the future."

"You'll burn them all or Brittany's going to hear some very interesting things from me... Especially how you tricked her into thinking sleeping with you didn't mean cheating on Artie."

Santana's eyes went wide. "Fuck you!" she spat viciously. "That's NONE of your business, Fabray!"

"You got into mine so now I'm forced to get into yours," Quinn replied calmly. "It's your own damn fault. Now are we clear?"

She glowered, knowing she'd been painted into a corner. "Guess that Q isn't completely gone after all, hm?" She crossed her arms sullenly. "I should knock your teeth down your throat."

"You could try. But I guess it doesn't take much to forget... I was the one who taught you in the first place, S. You've got a long way to go before you can beat me."

"I'll work on it."

"Until next time then."

Santana sighed unhappily. "So your dirty little secret lives to hide another day."

"It's not dirty."

"And mine?"

"...Isn't dirty either. Tell her, Santana. That girl loves you more than anything. She'll want you too."

"I meant are you gonna keep mine while I keep yours?" she said impatiently.

Quinn shrugged. She knew what Santana meant, she just wanted the chance to drive her point home. "Until you don't want me to anymore."

"I could say the same for you."

"It's different and you KNOW it."

"Rachel fucking Berry..." she muttered under her breath.

Quinn whipped around violently. "One wrong word to her and I swear to God, Coach Sylvester will look like a ray of sunshine on puppies by the time I'm through with you."

"Captain, my Captain!" She mock saluted.

She narrowed her eyes in annoyance. "Figures English is the only class you pay attention in. She's the hottest teacher at McKinley."

Santana ignored her. "I cannot believe you're a Berry whore now."

"Says the girl who's had more than half the school...including two of my exes."

"Yeah, but none of them were Rachel Berry, so I still win."

Rachel backed away from the crowd of people that had hawk-like eyes on her every move. Questions were firing from every which direction and she had no idea what to do. More than anything, she wished Quinn would walk back in right now. She'd be able to shut them all up with just a look. That was what Rachel needed right now. She needed Quinn. If it was up to her…she would answer every question with unmatched pride and happiness. Quinn was hers and they were in love. How badly she wanted to share that with her friends…

They were her friends, right?

Yes, yes, they were, but instead of getting to show off how unbelievably elated and wonderful she felt like her life was right now, she had to keep her mouth shut, feign ignorance…lie.

For Quinn…you're doing it for Quinn… This isn't for forever. You can do it for Quinn.

Sam saw Rachel struggling and shouted for everyone to cut it out before pulling Rachel into a side hug reassuringly. She was grateful for his protectiveness, more than he would know. Before Quinn, she hadn't ever really known what it was like to have someone stand up for her. Not that she needed it, but just to have someone wanting, willing…to care enough? It wasn't necessarily the action itself, but what it meant. She even smiled a little when his arm curled around her tightly. Quinn was right, he did smell good. She was going to have to ask him what he used…

But her tiny moment of reprieve was lost when Finn was on his feet. The moment the boy touched Rachel, something in Finn snapped, and it didn't look like there was any way he was going to be able to pull himself back.

"What is going on here!" he cried. "I'm sick of this. I want answers, Rachel. Once and for all, what's going on with you two!"

She looked up at Sam with a raised eyebrow. "We're…friends?"

"That's bull! I've been seeing it for weeks now! Tell me the truth. I have the right to know."

Rachel groaned and a stabbing pain formed between her eyes. She was so tired of this, of Finn's boorishness, tired of this arguing, tired of him acting like she belonged to him, as if she ever had.

The right to know? What right? He lost any right when he had sex with Santana and lied to her about it. He lost any right when he broke up with her. He lost any right every time he made her feel ashamed, unworthy, and unloved. He had NO rights.

"How many times do I have to say it? Sam is my friend, nothing more. Just stop this!"

Finn ignored her completely. He was fixated on Sam now like a dog foaming at the mouth for a bone that had been taken away. "Why'd you try to get that stuff away from Santana if it didn't have something about you? You're hooking up with Rachel and she has evidence!"

"Dude, are you seriously this stupid?"

"You're the one that's stupid for thinking you could get away with it!"

"What is wrong with you!" Rachel snapped. "You are being completely irrational!"

"Then what does Santana have on you?" Finn finally turned on her. "Why'd you freak so bad? Why is he protecting you?"

"Because that's what people do when they care about someone! A lesson you sorely need to learn, Finn, and I suggest you start learning it sooner rather than later."

"You're lying! I've known about it all along." He whirled around on Sam again angrily. "I can't believe you could do something like that to Quinn! You said you loved her!"

"Oh, like you loved her? And Rachel? You cheated on them both!"

"I never-!"

"Shut up! Both of you!" Rachel jumped between them as the boys looked seconds away from lunging for each other. "Stop this right now! Finn, it is NONE of your business. Sam, just sit down, please?"

"But it is something about you," Tina said. "You practically turned white when you saw what Santana had."

"Yes, it's about me," she admitted reluctantly, "it's something...private that Santana stole. She had no right and it's not something bad; it's just p-personal and she's trying to use it to hurt me."

"What is it!" Finn demanded.

"She just told you it was personal!" Sam growled.

"You better shut the-"

"Finn, seriously man, cut the bull," Puck said from the top of the risers. "Rachel said it wasn't our business and it's not Satan's right to air out her dirty laundry. Us Jews got a right to privacy too."

"It's not dirty!" She cried helplessly, but acknowledged Puck's help anyway with a weary nod of her head.

"Why would Santana go out of her way to hurt you like that?" Artie asked accusingly. "Must be pretty juicy."

"It's Santana," Mercedes replied with a roll of her eyes. "It's what she does."

"True dat." He shrugged.

Brittany was looking more and more unhappy by the second. She pulled away from Artie with a sigh, but he didn't notice.

"Look, enough!" Sam cried. "We're done talking about this."

"They're not," Brittany said, pointing to the door where the girls had exited earlier.

There had been a loud, unintelligible screech from Santana before, but nothing since. If they didn't come back soon, the Gleeks were going to have to send out a rescue party while someone else called 911.

"Why did Quinn take her outside?" Tina asked curiously.

"Oh, didn't you hear, Quinn is Rachel's new bestest friend in the world!" Finn mocked.

"Hey, I think you need to cool off a little now, Finn," Kurt said carefully. "You're taking this too far."

"Just stay out of it!" He snapped at the boy and then turned to the rest of the group. "None of you know Quinn like I do. She'll do anything to keep her reputation intact! Anything! She doesn't care about people's feelings, just as long as things look good on the outside. Like the perfect, screwed up image she's got in her head. She probably even knows they're hooking up," he gestured to Rachel and Sam wildly, "but she's out there threatening Santana to stay quiet just so she doesn't get humiliated!"

"YOU DON'T KNOW THE FIRST THING ABOUT HER, FINN HUDSON!"

Sam stepped in close to Rachel who looked angrier than any of them had ever seen before. She looked ready to rip him to pieces with her bare hands. Sam was there just in case he had to hold her back. He remembered what Rachel had been like in their brawl with the football team. She went for the jugular with Karofsky and it'd taken most of his strength to hold that crazy girl back as she screamed and kicked violently at boys three times her size.

But that…that was nothing compared to right now. Rachel looked ready to murder, and frankly, it stunned the others in the club into silence.

Rachel Berry this angry at Finn Hudson? Almost as if…she…hated him?

A similar thought went through all their heads as they wondered in various ways if Tina hadn't been so far from the truth. Maybe this was a parallel universe.

Rachel never looked like that at Finn, not even at his worst, not even when he insulted her, used her, shamed her, slept with Santana… Where was that Rachel? Who was this new Rachel standing in front of them, fury rolling off her in waves, glaring at Finn as though he were the vilest thing she'd ever laid eyes on?

"You're one to talk!" Finn shot back. "You've been obsessed with her for as long as I can remember. Are you just doing all this to hurt her cause she used to be my girlfriend? 'Cause this is seriously messed up, Rachel, even for you."

Sam tensed beside her, waiting for her to pounce. Rachel was sure that's what it looked like on the outside, probably because that's what it felt like, but Finn wasn't worth it. Her rage began to dissipate as a world of disillusionment settled in. It was as though the last two years were finally shattered, after surviving with cracks riddled through it until now.

She felt ill.

This boy…this boy acting so horribly, saying such awful things, behaving with such utter stupidity and immaturity…she thought she had loved this boy?

"I don't know what I ever saw in you," she said coldly.

Finn glared at her. "Yeah, well, right now? I'm thinking about the same."

Mr. Schuester walked in just then and saw the two of them facing off. He warily set his bag on the piano and came up to them, acting like even the slightest wrong movement would set off the bomb that was the tension suffocating the room.

"Hey…guys...what's going on here?"

Rachel looked at Finn hard for a long moment then turned to Mr. Schue. The decision came surprisingly easily. She knew what had to be done, and this wasn't even about her and Quinn anymore. Finn had turned it into something else; it was no one's fault but his own.

"I request that Finn be removed as Glee Club's co-captain," she said calmly, "effective immediately."

Finn chuckled incredulously, shaking his head. "You can't do that."

"Whoa, whoa! What is this? Rachel, just because you two are-"

"This isn't just a simple argument, Mr. Schue. Finn has failed time and again to be an effective leader for the club and I feel it's in our best interests to go to Nationals with someone we support and believe in. Finn is no longer the best candidate for the job."

"And you're gonna say that he is!" Finn pointed to Sam who looked just as surprised.

"I haven't seen anything to show that Finn isn't the leader he should be," Mr. Schuester said firmly. "He's made mistakes, but he's also come through for you," he looked around at the rest of the club pointedly, "all of you."

Rachel didn't seem to care. "I wish to put it to a vote."

"Are you serious!" Finn cried. "I can't believe you!"

"We're not voting-"

"Mr. Schue," Mercedes interrupted, "while I usually try to tune out whatever Rachel says, 'cause it mostly just gives me a headache, I think...ugh...I think she's got a point."

Finn's mouth fell open in disbelief as he looked at the girl, who only shrugged apologetically.

"I'm with Mercedes," Brittany joined in. "It wasn't nice what you said about Quinn and a real team captain doesn't act like that."

"Quinn?" Mr. Schuester echoed in befuddlement. "You said something about Quinn?"

"I vote too," Puck said with a shrug at Finn. "Sorry, bro. You know we're friends and all but you haven't been doing so hot lately. Sam deserves a shot."

"You want THIS DUDE to be captain?"

"Co-captain," Rachel said evenly.

"What the hell! This is…this is that pirate moronity thing!"

"Uh, that would be mutiny," Lauren corrected him.

"YEAH, THAT!"

"But Finn's talking," Brittany said in confusion. "Doesn't that mean he's not mute?"

"Mutiny, not mute, babe," Artie replied with a pat on her arm.

"Still," she shook her head, "it's majorly uncool to make people walk the plank into water with a giant crocodile for not being able to talk."

Everyone looked at her.

"I watched Peter Pan with Santana last weekend," she explained. "That's what pirates do."

They moved on.

"Well, Sam is the one singing all the major duets now," Artie pointed out. "And you've been a pretty big jerk lately."

"Wait, just stop for a second-" Mr. Schuester tried, but Finn cut him off.

"NO!" He threw his hands up. "You guys don't want me to be your Captain? Fine. I quit."

After he looked past the group on the risers, his eyes finally landed on Rachel with a fierce glare. She remained impassive as she stared back at him.

"Good luck trying to win Nationals without me," he said, sounding like it was for the whole Glee Club, but with his gaze on Rachel like that, it was as if he said it just for her.

She knew exactly what he was doing. It was a last ditch attempt to appeal to her sense of competition and undying need to reach the top. By leaving, Finn would be throwing a wrench into the works of New Directions, but his plan failed. She knew that it would only be a minor bump, even without Finn at Nationals. They had enough people to meet the requirements and Sam was more than prepared to take his place as the lead male soloist after all their hard work together. Finn thought he was more important than he really was. Maybe when he understood that someday, he'd be better for it. The world didn't revolve around Finn Hudson, nor did McKinley High, or even the Glee Club, no matter how much he wanted it to.

When Rachel didn't say a word, or even blink at all at his final desperate act to get her to change her mind, Finn reared back, angrier than ever, and stormed out, leaving behind a rather unimpressed group.

Sam rolled his eyes and went back to his seat while Rachel quietly perched herself on a chair at the far end of the risers, looking more weary than anything else.

"I wanted him to kick a chair again." Brittany sighed disappointedly. "Giants always knock things over."

"Hate to say it, but Finn kind of proved the point there," Tina said. "That wasn't very leader-ly of him."

Mike shook his head disapprovingly.

"No, just a colossal, stomping baby," Lauren snorted and Puck nodded in agreement with her.

Quinn and Santana chose that moment to re-enter the room, both girls looking a little worse for the wear, but neither of them said a word or made eye contact with anyone. Sam was leaning forward anxiously, hands on his knees, while Rachel looked like she was going to pass out. Quinn took her seat next to Sam and Santana unceremoniously shoved her bag off the chair before sitting down in the front row.

"So, just what exactly was that all about with you two anyway?" Artie broke the silence before Mr. Schuester could get the chance.

"Who the fuck talked to you, Stubbles McCripplepants?" Santana barked at him.

"Santana!" Brittany exclaimed reprovingly.

The Latina ignored them all.

Sam leaned over to Quinn as inconspicuously as he could. "Everything okay?" he whispered.

"I took care of it," she answered tersely, her eyes glued on Mr. Schuester, acting as if nothing out of the ordinary occurred.

Sam sighed and looked over to Rachel who had returned to her petrified state the moment Quinn returned. Finn had been a temporary distraction from the real disaster at hand. He nodded to let her know everything was okay. She practically melted in the seat with relief and turned back to Mr. Schuester, though she could hardly listen to a word he said.

"Someone better explain to me right now what the heck is going on here!" the teacher demanded.

"Well, if I'm not mistaken," Kurt answered, "Finn just quit and the rest of us voted Sam in as our new co-captain."

"Good to hear," Quinn sighed, not knowing what happened or even caring at the moment.

"Makes no difference to me," Santana shrugged, "they're both morons."

"It makes no difference?" Mr. Schuester cried. "Guys! I can't believe what I'm hearing! One of our strongest team members just walked out! We need to fix this NOW. How do we get him back?"

"But no one really wants him back right now," Brittany said.

"Maybe he'll cool off and change his mind later," Mike suggested.

"Sam, this is no reflection on whether or not I think you'd be a good co-captain," Mr. Schuester said. "As a matter of fact, I think you'd be great, but we already have two captains and that's the way it's going to be."

"Sam is the best chance we have for someone else to help lead this team to victory," Rachel insisted. "We need him, not someone that's consumed by petty jealousy and bitterness. Finn's allowed that to grow to such a point that it's become detrimental to our team morale." She looked around for confirmation and got several reluctant nods.

"I'm not saying I should be captain, I didn't know anything about this, but Rachel's right," Sam said. "Finn's got no business leading anyone right now. No offense, Mr. Schue, but if the guys are saying they want someone else, don't you think you oughta listen to that?"

"Enough!" The teacher cried, running his fingers through his hair. "Just...enough. You can all leave. We're done for today, but I strongly suggest you do something to work this out. We're supposed to be a team and what just happened here was wrong! Tomorrow I want you back here with ideas on how to make this right. Now go!"

They all started collecting their things, murmuring quietly to each other as they exited the room. Rachel met Quinn's eyes for just a moment before Mr. Schuester called out to her.

"Rachel? I'm very disappointed in you."

"Perhaps you should learn all the facts before you say that, Mr. Schue."

"Then tell me the facts."

Rachel only shook her head and left the room with Quinn and Sam following behind.

Fabrevans are your Prom King and Queen of 2011!

Sam was gleefully tossing the inscribed pens with their names on it down to the end of the hall to the football guys.

"So lame, Evans!"

"Says the dude who can't catch!"

"It was a bad throw!"

"It was right at you!"

The Prom campaign was in full swing that week. Today, while Sam was working his angle with the football team, Quinn and Rachel were going around with giant baskets of homemade muffins that had Sam and Quinn's names decorating the parchment on the bottom. They stood on opposite ends of the hallway to reach more people as they handed them out. Rachel had to remind herself not to stare at Quinn too much, a thought she often had to keep in her head these days. Looking at Quinn just led to thoughts she couldn't afford to have on school grounds if they meant to keep their relationship hidden still.

Quinn was busying herself with the hockey team. She had them, literally, eating out of her hand as she sported that perfected angelic, charming smile of hers. Those mullet wearing, teeth missing, Canadian wannabes were practically swooning from the attention.

Rachel thought it was pathetic how they were drooling all over her, but deep down she knew she was just jealous. In their place, she would be doing the same thing. In fact, she had been in their place. At least she'd been a little more subtle and graceful about it though! Boys.

"Vote Fabrevans!" she chirped at a couple of passerby and held her own basket of muffins, identical to Quinn's, and the two girls stopped to take some. "Your support is greatly appreciated!"

Quinn glanced at her out of the corner of her eye from the other end of the hall and gave her a small smile, the special kind, the kind Rachel knew was meant just for her, before turning her attention back to the hockey players. Beaming from the inside out, she went back to handing out the baked goods with even more vigor.

"It's a good thing you're so short, Berry, seeing as how much you enjoy getting kicked like a dog."

Sighing wearily, Rachel turned to face her.

"What now, Santana?"

She was not in the mood to deal with the Latina today. Quinn had filled her in on what happened with Santana out in the hall that day, but it didn't make Rachel breathe any easier. The blonde was on edge now that Santana knew and it made her worry for what Quinn might do to ensure that Santana kept their secret. The bare bones of the story were given to Sam, but Rachel knew all the details, including Santana's feelings for a certain other blonde. She was hardly surprised by it - everyone knew they slept together on occasion -but what did surprise her was the depth of Santana's feelings for Brittany.

From the way Quinn conveyed it, Santana was deeply in love and absolutely terrified. For a moment it made her think how amazingly similar those two girls were. She'd always wondered why Quinn and Santana had a connection, beyond being attractive, popular, and on the Cheerios, what on earth were they doing being friends? The more she understood the real Quinn, the less she understood her connection to Santana. Now?

Now she was starting to see something different.

But whatever happened between Quinn and Santana in the hall didn't seem to change the Latina's opinion or treatment of Rachel one bit. She didn't know what to make of it. Surely Santana had to realize that they were on the same side now, not meant to be enemies? Yet…that wasn't the case. Rachel didn't understand it at all and that made her even more nervous.

Santana started circling her like a hawk; arms crossed tightly as she looked her up and down, making Rachel feel more uncomfortable than she let on.

"You...are a tiny, loud, yapping, and ever so loyal poodle. Q's got it made. For some reason, that's against the laws of nature, she's got a hard on for you, and Little Miss Perfect gets everything she wants. Not only does she get up your skirt, but she also gets to keep guppy face for her status."

At the mention of Quinn, they simultaneously looked over to where she was. Quinn and Sam were now handing out muffins and pens to the girl's volleyball team, a charming duo as ever. Sam's charm was in his endearing awkwardness whereas Quinn was like a work of art, so beautiful and elegant you could hardly take your eyes off her. They were simply perfect together. Rachel's heart squeezed painfully.

"Look at them over there with the adoring masses," Santana said against her ear.

Rachel shuddered to have her so close, too close. It was stifling.

"…while you're over here handing out muffins for her and her boyfriend on behalf of this disgusting sham of a campaign."

"As it just so happens," she squared her shoulders to make herself look more confident and put some distance between them, which made her breathe easier, "I was the one who encouraged Quinn to go through with the campaign."

Santana scoffed. "Then you're even more pathetic than I thought you were. She's got you so wrapped around her finger, you can't see how freaking EASY she's manipulating you. Q's wanted Prom Queen almost her whole life and now she's suckered you into thinking it was YOUR idea. I thought you were supposed to have more brains than Sammy-boy. Guess you proved me wrong."

Rachel bristled. "Whatever you may think about the nature of my relationship with Quinn, Santana, your opinion actually couldn't mean less to me. This isn't any of your business and I would appreciate you staying out of it."

"Fine," she shrugged, holding her hands up in forfeit. "Let me put it this way for you then: Quinn gets everything; she reaps all the rewards. What do you get?"

"Quinn," Rachel answered simply.

"Hah!" Santana uncrossed her arms and pointed at her as if Rachel just made her argument for her. "You get to fuck her, Berry…in the closet, probably literally most of the time. That's your reward? Never thought that would be enough for a girl like you who claims to be destined for big things, including worldwide fame."

"It's enough for now," Rachel hissed, looking around to make sure no one was listening before she turned back on the Latina angrily. "You're not even one to talk, Santana. At least I get to be with the one I want and have her love me too, even if we are hiding it."

Santana rolled her eyes and waved her off as she started to walk away, apparently finished with the conversation.

Rachel wasn't.

Her blood was boiling now, she could feel it rushing to her face.

"If memory serves me right," she called after her in a harsh whisper, "Quinn has no desire to be with Sam romantically, but Brittany genuinely has feelings for Artie, does she not?"

Rachel knew she had stepped over the line the minute the words left her mouth. A sick feeling swept through her that she knew oh so very well to be guilt. She wished she could take it back, but it was too late.

A black rage surged through the Latina has her body went taut with fury. She whirled around and started back for Rachel, looking to tear her limb from limb. Genuinely afraid, Rachel was just about to run when someone stepped between them and Santana was physically thrown back.

"Touch her and I'll kill you," Quinn growled.

Instead of acknowledging the blonde's seething body blockade, she simply leaned around her former Captain to see Rachel.

She hissed lowly, "If you so much as look at me..."

Santana didn't have to say the rest, Rachel knew. With that, she stalked past Quinn, knocking her shoulder hard, leaving Quinn utterly baffled and Rachel with a horribly unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"What the hell just happened?" Quinn turned to her in shock. "I've seen that look on her before, Rachel! Santana was seconds away from doing serious damage."

"It's nothing, don't worry about it," she replied absently, looking sadly in the direction the other girl left in. "I have to go. Here are the rest of the muffins."

Quinn looked down at the basket shoved into her arms and back up at Rachel in bewilderment.

"W-what?" she spluttered. "But I thought we were going to hand them out together. Rach, what did she-"

"It's nothing. I just forgot, I...I have an appointment with Mr. Schue to discuss our strategy for Nationals. You'll be fine without me. Sam's right there. I'll see you later."

"Oh, okay..." Quinn said unsurely, "but are we still on for tonight?"

Rachel never answered; she'd already walked away. Sam glanced over at Quinn questioningly, but she only shook her head. Looking between the direction her friend had left in and then the opposite way Rachel had gone, Quinn knew something was very, very wrong was happening. She wanted answers and she wanted them now.

She nearly tore the school apart looking for Santana, blowing up her cell too, but the Latina was nowhere to be found.

That didn't bother Quinn nearly as much as the fact that Rachel wasn't picking up her phone either.

Chapter Text

She was a wreck, an absolute wreck. Rachel wasn't answering her phone, Santana had disappeared - not even Brittany knew where she was - and then a couple hours before Quinn would do her usual sneaking out routine over to Rachel's, she got a text from the diva filled with excuses about being tired and needing rest so it would be best if they spent the night apart.

It was such a lie…a lie like Quinn didn't even know Rachel had the capacity to tell.

They always slept better together than apart.

It's not like they always fooled around. There were many nights where the most they exchanged would be some innocent kisses before falling asleep in each other's arms.

This distance from Rachel, the lying, the look on her face when Santana walked away… Quinn was hitting Defcon 1! She had one foot out the door and her jacket half on when Sam called just in time to stop her from ambushing Rachel.

He wanted to talk about the three of them going to a Trinity party that weekend so Quinn and Rachel could meet his new friends…and exes. Anna was only the first in what was becoming a stream of millisecond girls that Sam left in his wake.

His new serial dating method had Quinn worried about him at first, not to mention confused. It wasn't at all like him to be so…cavalier about dating. He wasn't Puck. But her worries were put to rest when she talked to some of her friends on the Trixies and they had nothing but wonderful things to say about Sam Evans. They all adored him, even the girls he hooked up with just once or twice. It seemed his honesty and caring nature hadn't vanished with the newfound appreciation for casual dating. Quinn was actually baffled sitting in the coffee shop that day as she listened to them wax poetic about Sam, when to her it seemed like he was just being a whore.

So, yes, he was hooking up a lot, but it wasn't as serious as to always involve sex, and he never made a promise he couldn't keep. He was the unattainable, a mystery, and thus the ultimate catch. Quinn called Rachel as soon as she left the group of girls to tell her all about it. Rachel was surprisingly understanding about all of it. It made more sense to her than it did to Quinn.

In the end, she decided not to make an issue of it with Sam, so they never talked about it much. She just hoped he wouldn't get himself in trouble. He told her a little bit more as time went on, tidbits here and there, then actual stories, then even names. Now, he was trying to get them to meet another girl he thought he might like, but he wanted their take on it. Rachel was excited to meet his new crowd, especially since a few were Quinn's friends as well.

Quinn was apathetic about the whole thing. Why waste time at another lame high school party (they were all the same) with people she didn't know (or barely knew) and scope out Sam's next fling, when she could be happily ensconced in bed with her very naked girlfriend? But Rachel said she wanted to go…so Quinn was going to go.

Even though Sam called initially to discuss details for the weekend, he ended up spending an hour on the phone with Quinn, trying to talk her down from the Rachel Berry ledge of insanity and realize the right thing to do. The blonde sat on her porch and stared intently at her car while listening to Sam's voice on the phone. One part of her brain was screaming at her to get in the car, drive to the Berrys, and make Rachel talk to her face to face. The other was trying to get a word in edgewise, telling her to listen to Sam. If Rachel wanted space, then she deserved that. It was Rachel. It was hardly a matter of if she would talk to Quinn, rather only when she would. If her girlfriend needed time for whatever it is she was dealing with, whatever that BITCH of a human being, Santana Lopez, said to her, then Quinn was just going to have to let her have it.

She crawled into bed cold, lonely, and hating that she couldn't smell Rachel on her pillows.

I miss you.

After Quinn sent the text, she fell into a fitful sleep with dreams about dark hair, flying razorblades, a freezing winter, and Rachel Berry's empty arms.

The next day came and a tired Quinn dragged herself to school, making a beeline for Rachel's locker before even thinking of her own. She waited until the bell for first period rang, but Rachel never showed. Quinn couldn't have cared less that she got written up for being late. She just needed to know where Rachel was.

It wasn't until their first shared class together that Quinn finally laid eyes on her. She slid into her seat so fast, she nearly knocked the stool over.

"H-hey!" she said nervously. "How are you?"

"Just fine," Rachel smiled, though it never reached her eyes. Quinn could see she was exhausted too. "Did you finish the assignment yet? I know it's due tomorrow, but I-"

"I don't care about the homework."

Quinn looked at her fiercely, willing her to understand what this was doing to her, but the brunette just gave her a weary shrug before turning away and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Rachel…"

"I'm speaking now, Miss Fabray," their teacher broke in, forcing Quinn to turn forward, "which means it's your turn to be silent."

Quinn nodded and nearly growled with frustration, giving the teacher a fearsome glare when the woman turned her back. She was forced to remain quiet for the rest of the period, sneaking glances at Rachel whenever she could, but the diva just kept her head down and focused on the class work.

She was avoiding her and Quinn knew it. It only made her all the more determined to find Santana.

When she found out that the Latina had called in sick that day, people were throwing themselves up against the locker just to avoid bumping into a very, very angry looking Quinn Fabray.

It seems like luck was on Rachel's side or a dark cloud of misfortune was hanging over Quinn's head. Either way, things were not going well.

Every time Quinn had the slightest chance to corner the brunette, someone else came along just in time to interrupt them before they could discuss anything of significance. First it was their teacher, then Sam, then an untimely run in with Sue who was still bitter about Quinn leaving the Cheerios in the dust. So that rampage of verbal abuse took a while. Before Quinn knew it, the day was over and only Glee was left before Rachel would go home and she would be left to another agonizing night alone, wondering how to fix this, and what there even was to fix.

She needed to talk to Rachel before Glee and even waited right outside the door for her. There was no way she could get in without passing Quinn, but her girlfriend was craftier than she gave her credit for. The one second Quinn turned her head, Rachel managed to slip inside the opposite door without her seeing a thing. It wasn't until Mr. Schuester called her in to start the meeting that she saw Rachel somehow magically perched on the risers.

Cursing under her breath, Quinn dug her nails into her palms, and stalked into the choir room. She plopped down next to Sam, folding her arms tightly across her chest, and he knew better than to say anything. In fact, he started to inch away a little bit to put space between them. Quinn didn't care. She just wanted Rachel to talk to her already! This game of Hide and Seek wasn't the least bit amusing and Quinn had just about reached her limit.

Glee carried on as usual and Mr. Schuester talked about their new assignment for the week, an effort to get them to practice for Nationals and songwriting by getting in touch with their feelings. They were supposed to choose a song that best expressed something about themselves that they weren't able to say out loud. Through song, perhaps they could find a way to communicate.

Quinn had already heard this lesson before. She rolled her eyes and Sam smirked at her.

"He just needs another excuse to serenade Miss Pillsbury," he whispered.

"Pathetic and a waste of time," Quinn scoffed. "We have more things to worry about than his hopeless love life."

"You mean like yours?"

"I will kick you."

He frowned and scooted even further away from her for good measure.

Her hushed conversation with Sam had momentarily distracted Quinn, so when Rachel appeared in front of the class, she bolted up in her seat like a shot and listened carefully.

"…so as I already have a perfect example prepared in my repertoire of what I believe you're looking for in this assignment, Mr. Schue, may I be the first to go?"

"You mean now?"

"Yes," she answered breezily, flipping her hair over her shoulder, "I keep a copy of this particular song's sheet music in the choir room at all times so Brad and the band can be prepared."

"Uh, then by all means…"

He waved her to the front of the room awkwardly and took a seat himself.

Quinn was on the edge of her chair when the music started playing. She watched Rachel's every move, every nervous glance, every time she swallowed, the way her lower lip trembled for just a moment before she seemed to compose herself.

Kurt gasped excitedly when the music began to play, instantly recognizing the song, and then he settled down rather quickly. Quinn couldn't take the chance of letting her eyes leave Rachel, just in case the girl decided to look at her. But she knew from Kurt's sudden change in demeanor that it meant something wasn't right.

Hands touch, eyes meet
Sudden silence, sudden heat
Hearts leap in a giddy whirl
He could be that boy
But I'm not that girl

Why wasn't Rachel looking at her? She was looking out at everyone, hands clasped in front of her, but never at Quinn.

Don't dream too far
Don't lose sight of who you are
Don't remember that rush of joy
He could be that boy
I'm not that girl

There was a painful lump in Quinn's throat as Rachel's beautiful voice crashed over her.

Ev'ry so often we long to steal
To the land of what-might-have-been
But that doesn't soften the ache we feel
When reality sets back in

Quinn wanted to run up to the front of that room and shake the living daylights out of that girl. How could she sing this? How could she think it? Didn't she know? Didn't Quinn show her enough?

No…of course it wasn't enough.

Would Quinn ever be enough for her…enough for someone like Rachel Berry?

Blithe smile, lithe limb
She who's winsome, she wins him
Gold hair with a gentle curl
That's the girl he chose
And Heaven knows
I'm not that girl

Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Gazes were straying up to them now. Quinn ignored them all. The brunette's eyes were red and shining with unshed tears causing Quinn's chest to ache so badly she could hardly breathe. She hated seeing Rachel like this. All she wanted was to make it better, but she didn't know how.

Don't wish, don't start
Wishing only wounds the heart
I wasn't born for the rose and the pearl
There's a girl I know
He loves her so
I'm not that girl

As the music faded, the entire Glee club turned their eyes up to Sam who was sitting shell shocked in his chair while Quinn was simply…speechless.

Speechless and heartbroken.

Rachel sighed at the end of the song and looked to their teacher. "Would you agree that's something in line with what you were expecting from the assignment, Mr. Schue?"

"Y-yeah…Rachel…" he stammered, dumbfounded like the rest of them, "I guess that is an example of what I meant."

The meeting went on for a little while longer, but no one was paying attention to Mr. Schuester. They were all still abuzz with the scandal of Rachel's performance. If they weren't whispering about it, they were throwing furtive glances at the two blondes who tried to pretend like it never happened. Rachel wasn't making eye contact with anyone at all.

Quinn almost screamed with relief when Mr. Schuester let them go for the day. It seemed like he would never stop his incessant babbling. She needed to talk to Rachel and after that song, they needed to now.

The brunette was sitting up front so she had a head start on Quinn and bolted out of the choir room as quickly as she could. Not wasting a second, Quinn leaped down and ran after her. She didn't bother calling after Rachel, because Rachel knew she was coming. Calling wasn't going to make a difference. Instead, Quinn had to let her longer legs get the best of Rachel again. She overtook her just as they turned the corner.

"Enough!" Quinn planted herself firmly in front of her, just daring Rachel to try and get past her this time.

Rachel just crossed her arms and shrugged. "What is it, Quinn?"

"Are you really going to try and play stupid with me right now?"

Still the girl wouldn't look at her.

"Just talk to me! You can't do this. You can't just ignore me a-and lie to me and expect me to just leave you alone! What the hell was that song all about?"

Rachel's head snapped up and Quinn didn't like the look in her eyes.

It scared her.

"I thought it was rather obvious," she said icily. "It's a song about not being chosen, not being the one, surely you can see how I identify with it."

"That's not-"

"Something else always wins out over me, Quinn. Whether it's your reputation, your fear, your need to stay hidden – that's what you choose, each and every time. I don't get to be the one. You never pick me."

Dumbfounded, Quinn couldn't find the words in time to reply before Sam burst in on them angrily.

"Jeez, Rachel!" he cried. "What were you thinking? We're supposed to be convincing people that I'm not cheating on Quinn and then you go sing something like that? You might as well have sung that from a mountaintop and let the rest of the universe in on it! There is no way that anyone is going to believe that it wasn't about me!"

"Not now, Sam!" Quinn snapped. She didn't have the time or the patience for him, this had to be fixed with Rachel. He was wasting precious time. Quinn couldn't let Rachel go on thinking like this for even just a second more! There had to be a way to show the girl how wrong she had it - so, so very wrong.

"It has nothing to do with you! We'll fix it later, just leave us alone!"

"But-"

"Sam!" She turned on him fiercely. "Just. Go."

Rachel made a move to leave, but Quinn snagged her arm and pulled her back with a look that said 'Don't you even try.'

The rest of the Glee club was filtering out now. They could hear the chatter coming towards them, not to mention there were other students milling around in the halls still. Quinn glanced around warily.

Rachel looked up at her with a rueful smile.

"Guess we can't exactly have that talk right now. Wouldn't want it to look like we're having a lover's quarrel. After all, people will ask questions." She shook her head in disgust. "Goodbye, Quinn."

The blonde watched her go, too stunned to feel anything else but numb. She looked to Sam who only leaned against the lockers in disbelief.

Despair began to settle in.

Had Santana done something Quinn couldn't fix?

What if it wasn't Santana at all?

She thanked God that it was starting to get warmer out because if this had been the middle of winter, she would have already fallen to an icy demise. Going up was so much harder than going down.

By the time she reached Rachel's window, she was completely out of breath and her fingers felt like they were going to give way at any moment. Fortunately, her girlfriend loved the warmer weather and had already started leaving her window open to enjoy the fresh air of spring.

Clawing the windowsill, Quinn launched herself over the side and at long last, had safely arrived at her destination. She grinned proudly to herself for having achieved her sneaky break in, but not in the creepy stalker way. It was her girlfriend. Did it count as a break in if it was your girlfriend?

Yeah…it kind of did.

Hopefully Rachel wouldn't see it that way.

Quinn listened for any movement in the bathroom, but there was none. Rachel's room was Rachel's room, neat and tidy as ever, but with something rather important missing.

Rachel.

Sighing, she plopped down onto the bed and lay on her back to stare at the ceiling she knew quite well by now. Her hands still hurt from the climb, but at least her heart rate was returning to normal. Then she started to go over in her head what she planned to say and it sped right up again wildly, more frantic than before.

Apparently talking to Rachel right now was more terrifying than scaling a drainpipe and using nothing but her upper arm strength to get her across the edge of the roof, feet dangling, to reach a window on the second story.

What Rachel had said to her today, the way she sang that song, the dull look in her usually bright and shining eyes filled with dreams and passion and…love. Today Quinn saw defeat and she couldn't bear it. How much longer could they go on like this? How much longer could she keep the wolves at bay until they were safely away from here and there would be nothing to prevent her from making sure Rachel was treated and loved in every way she deserved? Time was running out and Quinn knew it.

They just had to hold on for a little longer. Get out of here and everything would be alright.

But she was lying to herself.

The door opened and Quinn panicked. It suddenly occurred to her that she hadn't taken into account the possibility of one of Rachel's fathers walking in instead of the girl herself. Before she saw who it was, she considered making a dive off the side of the bed to hide. But it was too late.

Rachel stood still in the doorway, staring at Quinn for a long moment. She didn't seem surprised to see her sitting there. She didn't look altogether happy about it either.

Seeming to debate something with herself, Rachel paused with the door wide open as their gazes locked. Then she finally stepped into the room and closed the door behind her.

"What do you want?" she asked coldly, folding her arms across her chest.

"We need to talk."

"We've done plenty of that. To be honest, it's getting really old. I keep hearing the same things, Quinn, the same promises. I don't need to hear them again."

"What do you want me to do? What do you need me to do to fix this?"

"You already know the answer to that."

"But-"

"No!" she interrupted her with a burst of anger, surprising Quinn. "I said I didn't want to hear it and I meant it! You need to leave. Now. I want you to leave!"

"I'm not going any-"

"YES, YOU ARE! This is my house, Quinn! My room! You have no right to barge in here, demanding things from me. I've let you do it time and again, but enough is enough. I want you out and you do not get to say no. Not this time!"

Fury surged through Quinn's veins. Maybe she had no right to be angry too, but damn it she was! They were better than this! They were past this! Rachel said she had forgiven her for the way things started and now she was going to throw it back in her face no matter how hard Quinn had tried to make up for it? No. No! This wasn't going to happen.

"So that's it? Those are your terms? I come out of the closet or we're through?"

Rachel faltered slightly at that, but drummed up her courage again.

"I thought I could do this, Quinn, but…maybe I was wrong. I thought that you loved me and that would be enough, but maybe…maybe it's not. I hate having to go through each day knowing that I can't be myself and that I can't be with you. It's not fair and you should never have asked this of me."

"I know I shouldn't have."

"You keep saying that!" she said furiously. "That you know how wrong it is and yet you continue to do it anyway? With no thought for how it might affect me! How it affects others! Only yourself! You just don't want to deal with the everyday consequences of-"

And Quinn exploded.

"I'M NOT THINKING ABOUT THAT!" she shouted, slamming her hands on the bed, and leapt to her feet. "I'M NOT THINKING ABOUT TODAY OR EVEN TOMORROW!"

Rachel's eyes widened.

Taking deep breaths, Quinn tried to calm herself enough to say the speech she had been planning ever since Rachel left her in the hallway that afternoon. Maybe she'd been planning it longer than that.

"I'm thinking about the rest of our lives!" she cried despairingly. "Don't you get that? I want an actual life with you, Rachel Berry! God help me, but I do! What's one year compared to a lifetime? Maybe that scares you, it might be too much, I know how young we are, but Rachel…it's all I think about. I love you so much I can't imagine... I just want us, okay? For as long as you want me too."

Rachel leaned back against her desk as if she needed something to support her. Quinn wanted to be that support, she wanted to be the one to hold her up and make her feel safe, but she wasn't finished yet.

"So, fine, you want me to come out, tell everyone I'm gay and we're together? Okay. Let me tell you how that'll go. I'll be dropped on the popularity charts faster and harder than that damn pyramid Sue ever did me in for. I'll be a bottom feeder at this school, thrown to the wolves. I won't have any standing and I won't be able to protect you. I'll be treated like dirt, slushied on a daily basis. It'll suck, I'll hate it, but if that were the only issue, I'd steal Coach Sylvester's megaphone right now and scream it through the halls."

The brunette looked utterly bewildered.

"Here's where it goes wrong, Rachel. We get to hold hands, walk each other to class, kiss at our lockers, be as affectionate as we want to be. It'll be amazing despite what everyone else says or does because we're together. Meanwhile, while we're all 'out and proud,' I'll be homeless. Mom will drop kick me out that door faster than my Daddy ever did. He gave me 30 minutes at least. She won't. Then it'll be…I mean, they'll…"

No. It won't be much longer. She doesn't have to know that part. If she doesn't know by now, then she'll never have to. Only another year.

"Forget it." She shook her head. "So I'll just find someone to stay with for a few months until we graduate, get a full time job as a waitress in some dive, save up enough to get a crappy apartment. Then I'll break up with you and you'll leave for New York to live the life you've always known you wanted, to gain the respect and notoriety you know you deserve and you'll follow your dreams to completion. I'll end up a Lima Loser, alone with no family, and without you. It's true, I want to preserve my future for myself, but even more than that, I want it so I can have it with you. So that I can go with you to New York, go to school, figure out what I want to do, and be with you. Rachel, I want to see you accomplish everything you dreamed and more, to be by your side while you do it."

Quinn reminded herself that she needed to breathe if she wanted to get all of this out. She took a moment to let it settle in before she started again, voice trembling.

"Now it's your turn. Tell me, is that one year of high school bliss and freedom so worth it to you that you'd want to sacrifice potential years of our happiness and independence together? We get to come out and tell everyone now. Then it ends come graduation. Or we hold on and get something that is going to be the best thing that will ever happen to..." she checked herself, "well, it would be the best thing to ever happen to me. You."

Quinn wiped away a few stray tears furiously.

"There's the story, Rachel. Its got two endings. Now tell me, what do you want? Because if all you want is that year, if you don't want me like I want you, then I'll give it to you."

Her voice was cracking painfully now, but she didn't care.

"I'll give it to you no matter what it costs, because in the end it'll have meant I got that time with you. It'll have been worth it. But if you can tell me that you want more too...more like I do...then..."

Rachel flung herself into Quinn's arms and stayed there like she was never going to let go. Quinn held onto her tightly, willing back the tears that threatened to spill over once more. She didn't want to cry again. Instead, she just buried her face in Rachel's dark hair and inhaled deeply. The familiar scent and touch was more soothing than anything else she could have asked for at that moment. She shut her eyes tightly and let it wash over her. Relief. Love. Rachel was in her arms again.

It was going to be okay. Everything would be okay.

Was she still lying to herself?

"Why haven't you talked like this with me before?" Rachel said finally after a long silence, her voice echoed in Quinn's ears. It had been far too long since she last heard such a sound.

"I don't like talking about it," she mumbled.

"Because you're ashamed?"

"Because I'm terrified. Saying all that just now...it means you can crush my heart worse than ever. I don't tell people things like this. I don't tell them anything. It's safer that way. I'm...trusting you."

Rachel moved her head just enough so that they were facing each other, but her arms around Quinn never slackened.

"I love you, Quinn," she whispered, willing the blonde to do more than just hear the words. Rachel needed her to feel them. "I never...I wasn't thinking about it like that. I had no idea."

"Now you do," she replied curtly.

"I'll wait forever for you," she murmured.

Quinn shook her head. "It's not forever."

"So I'll wait a year then."

"Yeah?"

"Of course. Quinn, I want that life with you too, so much. I-I-I fantasize about it constantly... I just never thought you really meant it."

"Then what did you think I was trying so hard for us for?" she cried exasperatedly. "Fun?"

"I didn't know. I guess I was afraid to know if the truth turned out to be..."

"That I was lying?"

"Something like that. Or you just didn't really understand what you were promising. Or maybe you feel this way now, but when presented with the opportunity to leave Lima...your feelings would change."

"And now what do you think?"

"I don't think - I know. I want you, Quinn. Not just for a year. Not even for just two. I want everything. I just never... I could never imagine being lucky enough to actually get it."

She tapped the side of her head lightly with her index finger. "I know here the reasons why you're doing all this, you explained it and I understand, I do. But I'm not…sometimes I'm not…"

She shrugged, tucking her hair behind her ear self consciously.

"I may want everything, I probably want it too much, but that doesn't mean I really believed I would get it. I'm confident about many things, Quinn, but this isn't one of them. You are not one of them. I have my dreams, of my career, to perform, to be known and loved by adoring fans, which of course are not dreams and rather the inevitable, but when it comes to m-my own love life? I resigned myself to it a long time ago, I didn't believe it was possible that anyone could o-or would love me like..."

She shook her head.

"So I just worked harder, practiced more, devoted all of myself to what I thought would be my first and only love - Broadway. Even Finn...wasn't able to shake that. Actually, he managed to do precisely the opposite. He made me believe in the impossibility of any love overcoming Broadway all the more. Now I have two loves," she smiled softly, "and I will be honest by telling you that you're partaking in a fearsome competition for first."

"Oh, yeah?" Quinn's mouth quirked upwards in amusement. "How am I faring?"

"You are definitely holding your own," Rachel replied in all seriousness. "I do want us out in school, Quinn, but I think a big part of my desperation for it was because I thought once we graduated...it'd be over. I wanted as much of you as I could get before you left me. I suppose that's just my insecurities still practicing their meddlesome ways."

She cracked a smile to distract from her vulnerability in that moment, but Quinn wasn't having it.

"You'll get everything I have to give."

"In a year?"

"Well, you pretty much have most of it now." Quinn started checking off a list in her head. "Friendship? There. Physical desire? So there. Trust? We're working on it. Love? You definitely know the answer to that. Sex? Well, I think you can pretty much gold star that one."

The brunette laughed brightly and Quinn smiled back, letting her hands run down Rachel's back before taking both of her hands and laced their fingers.

"I'll come second to your first love, Rachel," she murmured. "That's okay. I wouldn't have it any other way."

"I'm afraid you don't get a say in it, Quinn," she replied confidently. "My heart will decide and if you don't win outright then it looks like Broadway will have to be content with a tie for first."

Chuckling, the blonde leaned in and rested her forehead against Rachel's, never taking her eyes off her for a second.

"I love you."

"I know. I have it recorded, remember?"

It wasn't until the next day that Quinn finally got the chance to ask about what happened with Santana. With everything going on, she knew that Santana hadn't been the crux of the reason for Rachel pulling away from her, but she had been a catalyst, and there was no way that Quinn was going to let that go.

So she stole away with Rachel, just after classes were over for the day, ushering her into an empty classroom, and asked.

She received a guilty look for an answer.

Rachel started to relay the beginning of the conversation with great hesitancy, and Quinn stared at her hard for a long moment. Then, without a word, the blonde spun around and stalked out of the room before Rachel had a chance to finish, leaving her shorter girlfriend having to run to catch her.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Oh, just to make Santana die a slow, painful death," she said nonchalantly as Rachel tried to keep up with her pace. "I'm considering bringing her to a taxidermist afterwards, have her stuffed and placed in the courtyard to serve as a warning for the rest of those morons if they even so much as think about trying to mess with you." Quinn stopped short, causing Rachel to stumble into her. "I think Coach Sylvester would be impressed." With a satisfied nod, she started moving again.

"Quinn! Wait! You don't understand, you don't know the whole story, I said some-"

"It doesn't matter!" she cut her off angrily. "I warned her! I warned that water balloon chest to stay away from you and she's going to pay!"

"But Quinn! Just hear the rest-"

Santana was just up ahead and went around the corner. Quinn snapped up like a panther ready to pounce and broke into a run. Frantic, Rachel saw Sam coming down towards them and cried out, "Sam! Stop her!"

Seeing Quinn in a rage and Rachel's desperation, he reacted on instinct and ducked in front of Quinn. She ran straight into him and he tossed her easily over his shoulder. Shouting and flailing, Quinn clawed at him furiously to get free, but Sam remained calm as he held the fighting girl on his way back to a relieved looking Rachel.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" she shouted. "SAM EVANS, YOU LET ME GO RIGHT NOW!"

"Sorry, Quinn," he said, unfazed. "Our girl said to stop you, so I listened. You know what happens when we don't listen."

"She's my girl!" Quinn growled, but he paid no attention.

Sam looked like he was on a leisurely stroll, about to break into a jaunty whistling tune as he made his way past odd looks and towards Rachel who was anxiously waiting for them.

Knowing she was stuck, Quinn relented, and instead smacked his back hard in frustration. "You idiot! I was going after Santana because she tried to make Rachel believe that I was manipulating her into loving me just so I could sleep with her."

Sam froze at that and eyed Rachel warily. He was wondering if he'd done the right thing by stopping Quinn.

"She doesn't know the whole story!" Rachel insisted.

"I don't need to know the whole story!" She shot back, still flung over Sam's shoulder.

The boy was utterly confused as to what he should do. Half of him wanted to unleash Quinn on Santana, even join in, but the other part of him had a practiced habit of listening to Rachel now.

"Yes, Quinn, you do."

The blonde sighed impatiently and tried to push herself up somewhat in her awkward position, bracing her hands against Sam's back to be more upright as she listened.

"If you still feel the same way after I've explained everything that occurred between us then I won't try to stop you from confronting her."

"That sounds reasonable." Sam nodded.

"PUT ME DOWN!" Quinn shouted, at her wit's end.

He set her back on her feet with a sheepish grin, as if he had forgotten she was slung over there at all. Quinn shoved him hard.

"Don't you ever do that again!"

"Don't push him, Quinn," Rachel admonished. "There's no need for violence."

"I decide that!"

"Come on, Quinn," Sam taunted good-naturedly. "Why do you have to be so aggressive all the time? Let love in!"

"Don't make me hurt you."

Sam turned to Rachel. "I don't know what you see in her."

She only shook her head. "I see the same thing you do."

He grinned and Rachel smiled back, but Quinn just let out a disgusted noise at both of them.

"Not that this love fest isn't great and all, but I was on a mission here. You better talk fast and then I'm going after her."

Rachel began to wring her hands nervously and made a few stuttering starts before she finally blurted it out.

"I said something to her about Brittany! Okay?" She sighed. "Santana made me…she made me so mad that I just…lost it. And what I said was something not altogether nice... L-look, I regret it! I truly, truly regret it! I swear!"

Sam's eyes widened as Quinn's narrowed.

"What did you say?"

The brunette looked awkwardly at Sam before averting her gaze completely from Quinn. Neither of them had to say a word for him to get the hint.

"Okayyy, looks like I'm not needed here anymore."

After Sam was gone, Quinn stepped in closer to Rachel. "What did you say to Santana about her?" she asked in a tightly controlled voice. "I need it word for word, Rachel."

"I feel absolutely horrible about it! She just made me so angry, I didn't even think about what was coming out of my mouth. I wish I had never said it at all. However cruel Santana can be, I don't have to sink to her level, and I did..."

"Rachel," Quinn pleaded, "what did you say?"

She gave her a sad look before repeating her words to Santana.

Quinn stared at her for a long moment. Then, without a word, ran off to find Santana. Rachel watched her go with a twisting feeling in her stomach.

The look on Quinn's face...

Disappointment.

The way the blonde had reacted, Rachel knew she'd done something even worse than she thought she had. Guilt weighed her down that much more.

"Come on!" a voice behind her said and an arm slid around her shoulder. She looked up in surprise to see Puck standing there. "You coming to Glee or not?"

"Of course."

"Everything cool?"

"Not exactly," she admitted, looking down the empty hallway in the direction Quinn had left in.

"We cool?"

"It has nothing to do with you, Noah," she said tiredly.

"Ah, good. I thought it might have something to do with me telling the guys that you wear hello kitty panties, but nevermind, let's go."

Rachel stared at him in horror as he led her down the hall.

Chapter Text

Quinn couldn't imagine what Santana might be feeling right now.

Strike that.

She knew exactly what Santana was feeling.

All she had to do was imagine that someone said that to her about Rachel and Finn. In fact, hadn't she heard it a hundred times since the two of them started dating over the summer? She tried not to let it hurt back then, pretended that whatever pain it was that squeezed her chest was just a remnant of her feelings for Finn. It never worked completely. Quinn was a good liar, very good, so good she had herself convinced sometimes, but there were moments…just moments…when the truth would slip through.

That's why, as furious as she was with Santana Lopez for trying to get into Rachel's head like that, she also felt an overwhelming amount of sympathy for the girl. If Santana even felt an ounce for Brittany what Quinn felt for Rachel - and she knew she did - then having someone fling that in your face would cut deeper than the bone. She knew all too well what it was like to see the girl you love with someone else and be too terrified to ever admit the truth, to think that she could never love you way you wanted, rather the way you needed, her to.

"Hey…" she said, carefully approaching the Latina at her locker. "How's it going?"

Santana didn't buy it for a second. "What do you want, Q?" she snapped.

Quinn sighed, relinquishing any hope of easing into it. "I know what you said to Rachel."

"And?" Santana never looked away from her locker, still searching for something.

"I know what she said to you."

She was startled by the loud bang from Santana slamming the metal door shut.

"Get to the point! I have better things to do with my time than stand around here chatting about the glorified sideshow freak you're hooking up with."

She let that one go with some difficulty. Santana was looking to get a rise out of her, but like hell Quinn was going to give her what she wanted that easily.

"Look, the only reason I'm not tearing that ridiculous weave out of your head right now is because Rachel was wrong to say what she did."

"That thing talks so much I never hear a word it says anymore. It's just a bunch of white noise. So no worries." Santana shrugged uncaringly before stepping back, looking like she was about to walk away.

"What happened?"

The Latina stopped in her tracks, looking around everywhere except at Quinn.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"We were okay, I thought we settled it. And then you pulled a stunt like that! Did you think I was going to let it go? I warned you about going near Rachel! Why did you have to be so-"

Then something clicked in her head.

"Did something happen with Brittany?"

"Bri- No! Nothing," she stammered awkwardly, "just shut up. I swear Berry must be contagious."

Of course…

It all made sense now.

"Santana…" she said softly, "I told you…we're friends. You can talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about!" she replied shrilly.

"Then why are you acting like there is?"

"Just leave me alone!"

"Not when you're like this," Quinn retorted firmly. "Something is going on with you and Brittany, I can tell. And don't even think about lying. We've all been friends since first grade, I know you too well. Now, what happened?"

Santana fell against the lockers heavily. She was gritting her teeth so fiercely, Quinn worried she might break her jaw. Then she saw the tears brimming.

"What is it?" she whispered, leaning in with her hand on her friend's shoulder. Santana didn't shrug her off, so she took that as a good sign. "Hey…S…"

"I sang to her."

Quinn could have sworn that's what she said, but it was so quiet, she barely heard it.

"You what?"

"I sang to Brittany," she admitted miserably. "I-I sang 'Landslide' for her when we were alone. That stupid assignment of Mr. Schue's put the idea in my head. God, I hate that sweater vest puke excuse for a teacher. It's all his fault! And yours!"

"What are you talking about? What did she say?"

Santana turned on her venomously. "I told her how I really felt. I told her that I was in love with her, just like you said I should. Only, you were wrong, Q, she doesn't want me. She blew me off for the cripple. Are you happy now?"

"Oh, Santana…"

"Don't even try!" She shoved Quinn away. "This is all your damn fault anyway. If I hadn't been so stupid to actually listen to you when you were spouting that stupid lovey dovey crap about Berry, I wouldn't be in this hellhole! Everything would be fine! I'd probably even be hanging out with Britts tonight! Instead, I-I can't even look at her without feeling like I'm dy…"

Her voice cracked and Quinn wanted so badly to hug her, but hugging an angry Santana Lopez was like trying to hug a rattlesnake.

"Everything was fine until you had to sleep with the enemy and now it's all screwed up!" she spat bitterly. "We're done, Q. I'm keeping my side of things, don't you worry your pretty little blonde head about it. No one will find out about your new bed buddy from me, but don't think for a second we're anything close to being friends. And if I were you, I'd watch my back."

Quinn sighed heavily as Santana walked away, squeezing her books to her chest tightly as she tried to process the conversation that just occurred. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Brittany standing a few feet away. The taller blonde met her gaze sadly for a moment before she walked away too.

Quinn couldn't believe this was happening.

Rachel didn't even fully understand at first why it was that Santana's words had affected her so profoundly. She knew in her heart of hearts that Quinn would never do such a thing to her. She trusted that what they had was real. She did!

But there were so many cracks in the armor of their relationship right now, so many places for doubt to slip its way through and break the whole. Santana found one and she used it. What was Rachel to Quinn if not a filthy little secret tucked away in dark corners and beneath the sheets? For all that she tried to accept their current situation, thoughts like those could not be held at bay. Rachel had faith, but her faith was not unshakable.

She didn't even understand why she was pushing Quinn away as she had. Only that seeing the blonde brought back Santana's mocking words to echo in her head. Rachel was so turned around, she could hardly see what was in front of her. All those doubts, the fears, the nagging dark thoughts that lurked in the wings whenever Quinn denied her in public, whenever she saw Sam take Quinn's hand, they came bursting through in a tidal wave of emotion.

Then Quinn pulled her out.

Rachel had thought she was coping so well with having to hide their relationship, even managing Sam's presence, but she was wrong. She'd only been holding on by a thread and all it took was a little nudge from Santana to bring it all down on her.

But what Quinn said to her that night…it changed everything.

More than ever Rachel found a reason to believe in them, in their future, in their happiness. She'd faltered, and she may very well falter again, but this time she knew Quinn would be there to save them again, just as she would be there for Quinn. They would save each other until the time came where saving was no longer needed.

There would be a time. She knew that now.

She'd always harbored that sickening fear that Quinn only saw her as temporary and that Rachel was a way to pass the time in Lima. She feared that she was only…a phase, a phase where Quinn was able to safely explore her sexual appetite without having to reap any consequences.

Rachel felt ill for ever having such terrible thoughts about Quinn's motives. She couldn't help but think those terrible things sometimes, but she also didn't fault Quinn for it either. They were just struggling to make it through this together right now. She knew that the more secure she felt in their relationship, the sooner those thoughts would disappear. Until then, she was pressed to find more faith than she'd ever thought she possessed.

But the way Quinn held her, the way she had spoken to her, her voice so raw, her eyes so honest and filled with pain, it pushed the thoughts away and barred them behind a locked iron gate. They weren't gone, but they wouldn't be so easily released again.

After that, she knew she was going to have to try much harder to understand the mystery behind Quinn Fabray, to pay better attention, because that was the only way they were ever going to make it through.

She hoped Quinn wasn't too upset with her for the dispute with Santana. She felt just as guilty as she was sure Quinn was disappointed. If she didn't think that the Latina would knock her teeth down her throat, Rachel would have gone to apologize. Instead, she'd have to wait and see what Quinn came back with. There had to be a way to fix this. Why was there so much animosity brewing these months when instead it should be just the opposite? She couldn't make sense of it.

Quinn came into the choir room just then, clearly upset about something. Rachel didn't know if it was because she was still angry with her or if the discussion with Santana hadn't gone over too well. It was probably both. But Quinn sat down next to Rachel without a word and she knew that the blonde couldn't be very mad at her if she was still choosing to be next to her. They didn't get a chance to talk because Mr. Schuester was already starting the lesson as a few stragglers were still making their way in. Brittany and Artie were the last to find their seats. Rachel noticed, with some confusion, that Quinn was scrutinizing the two with a severe frown. She would have to ask her girlfriend about it later.

She also noticed that Santana was absent.

It was Sam's turn that day to perform for Mr. Schue's 'express your deeper feelings' assignment. Quinn was still staring at Artie and Brittany in the front row while they were completely unaware. Rachel watched Sam questioningly as he made his way to the middle of the floor. He had purposely hid his song selection from her, which prompted endless inquiries on her part. The fact that he was hiding it from her, of course, only piqued Rachel Berry's intense curiosity all the more. These days, Sam always talked to her about music. Now she was completely in the dark, and while a part of her was intrigued, the other was painfully annoyed that she was out of the loop.

It didn't get any better when Puck stood up as well, standing further back, and slung his guitar strap over his shoulder. Tina was up too, then Brittany, then Mercedes!

Rachel gaped in amazement that Sam was able to recruit all of these people for his assignment without her ever catching wind of it.

Tina handed Sam his guitar, and he nodded gratefully to her, before going to stand off to the side next to Brittany and Mercedes.

"I want everyone to know that this song really means a lot to me, especially because of the person I'm singing it for." He slipped the guitar strap over his head and smiled directly at Quinn who was finally paying attention. She looked slightly bewildered, which was far more contained than Rachel's open astonishment.

"Quinn, I know I've told you this before, but sometimes people need to hear it a hundred times over and in a thousand different ways before they can believe it. So…I hope you believe it, because I mean it more than you'll ever know."

Quinn frowned at first and tilted her head to the side, but then she smiled softly, closing her eyes with a chuckle. Rachel shifted uncomfortably in her chair, her chest constricting at the intimate exchange between the two of them. She should be used to this sort of thing by now, but she was starting to understand that it was impossible for her to ever fully accept this - and that she never should.

"Oh, and thanks to the guys back here for helping me out." He jerked his thumb towards the girls and Puck.

The band began to play while Sam and Puck joined with their guitars. Most people in the group knew the song within a few seconds of the music starting. Sam grinned up at Quinn and sang:

"You and I must make a pact, we must bring salvation back.
Where there is love, I'll be there."

The three girls joined in as backup vocals. "I'll be there."

"I'll reach out my hand to you, I'll have faith in all you do.
Just call my name and I'll be there."

Rachel gripped the seat beneath her so tightly it hurt when Puck stepped up beside Sam to sing a solo part, his gaze on Quinn as well. She was watching them both carefully.

"I'll be there to comfort you.
Build my world of dreams around you; I'm so glad that I found you."

His smile, his oddly sad demeanor, everything screamed of an intimacy between him and Quinn that made Rachel feel sick to her stomach.

"I'll be there with a love that's strong.
I'll be your strength, I'll keep holding on."

Puck stepped back, letting Sam take over again. Quinn was swaying gently beside Rachel. She could feel her moving, but couldn't bear to look at her. The boys held her focus right now, two boys who shared something with Quinn that Rachel never would. Yes, she had it better than them. She had Quinn's love. But Puck and Sam…they held pieces of her that Rachel would never have. That was the way life worked of course, but it still hurt more than anything. Sam was singing again, playing his guitar lightly, glowing as he never took his eyes off Quinn, his smile never faltering.

"Let me fill your heart with joy and laughter.
Togetherness," he shrugged with a playful wink, "well that's all I'm after."

Quinn snorted and shook her head laughingly. Rachel could swear her heart broke a little more at that.

"Whenever you need me, I'll be there.
I'll be there to protect you, with an unselfish love that respects you,
Just call my name and I'll be there,"

Then Sam's tone changed, if only just for a moment. Rachel heard it so clearly. It was a good thing she was sitting next to Quinn because she knew, without a doubt, that Sam had turned his eyes to her. No one else would notice the subtle shift in his gaze, but she could feel it.

"If you should ever find someone new,
I know he'd better be good to you.
'Cause if he doesn't, I'll be there."

The seriousness of his tone, the eyes clamped on Rachel in fierce challenge, vanished into lightheartedness once again and he turned away to dance a little bit in the middle of the room. He swayed over towards the girls and then made a jump to strum alongside Puck.

"Don't you know, baby, yeah yeah.
I'll be there, I'll be there!
Just call my name, I'll be there!"

He came back again to face the rest of the group and moved as close to Quinn as possible on the risers, so close that Artie actually had to roll back to let him through. Quinn never took her eyes off him. When Rachel finally let herself see her girlfriend's face, she saw unshed tears and a brilliant smile. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to run out on that god-awful situation, away from this suffocating school, and far, far away from Lima.

"Don't you know, baby, yeah yeah.
I'll be there! I'll be there!
Just call my name…I'll be there."

Sam played the last note with a quiet strum and everyone rose to their feet, clapping, cheering, slapping him on the back. Sam gave Quinn a knowing look and held out his hand. Quinn gave it to him without hesitation and he kissed her knuckles with a smile. She took her hand back and instead pulled him into a bear hug.

Rachel didn't get to hear it over the chatter from the rest of the Glee club, but she knew Quinn whispered "thank you" in the boy's ear.

To make matters worse, she stepped down to find Puck who was putting away his guitar and hugged him too. They talked to each other quietly, Quinn with reverence, Puck with sadness.

Then it was over and Glee was dismissed for the day.

Rachel heard him running after her, but she didn't want to stop. She just wanted to get the hell away from that room and everyone in it. She didn't even say anything to Quinn before she left, just slipping out before anyone noticed.

Except one person did notice.

Sam put his hands on her shoulders, gently pulling her to a halt. She spun around with a fierce glare. He sighed and put his hands in his pockets, not having to ask why she was upset.

"He was the only choice I had to sing that part, Rachel. I wasn't about to ask Finn."

"Kurt or Artie would have been perfectly adequate substitutions for Noah," she tossed back.

Sam gave her a look and she knew she was beat. Neither of them had the right sound for the song. She wrapped her arms around herself tightly, even more annoyed that she couldn't even argue with Sam about this.

"He's always going to have a piece of her. You know that. Can't change what they went through together. They're tied, whether they like it or not."

How did he know? How did he know to break through to the very core of her feelings? Was it some sort of gift he had? She hated it sometimes. And others… No, she hated it then too.

"How can you bear it?" she asked after a while, unable to meet his eyes.

"I deal with you, don't I?"

Rachel sighed. Her anger was dissipating more and more by the second as they stood there.

"I'll never hurt her," she said quietly, thinking back to his unspoken, rather sung, warning.

Sam watched her for a moment. "You have the power to do that, you know? You could really…break her." He shook his head. "I love Quinn too much to see that happen."

Rachel wondered, with some incredulity, about how she was yet again being told that Quinn was the one more at risk of heartbreak between the two. It sounded so wrong.

"Never," she promised. It was all she could think to say. "I could never."

He sighed and licked his lips, silently acknowledging their truce once again.

"I am sorry about Puck," he said with a knowing glance. "I didn't do it to rub it in your face or anything. He just… He was right for it, you know? I wanted Quinn to see…" he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "that she has other people who care too. She never seems to understand that."

He was right again. So…infuriatingly…right. She really did hate it.

Rachel took a deep breath as the memory of that performance a few minutes ago forced itself back into the forefront.

"It hurts…" she rasped, "knowing that they…"

"I get it," Sam replied kindly. "Really. I get it. Do you ever talk to Quinn about it?"

"It's…a sore subject with her," she said tentatively, but followed it up with a quick reassurance. "Understandably, though!"

He nodded and they walked in silence for a few moments. Then Sam wrapped his arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head.

"Someday," he told her quietly.

Rachel leaned into his embrace and reciprocated by slipping her arm round his waist with a sigh. He really was a good friend.

Then a sickly sense of foreboding managed to sneak its way in for a fleeting moment.

What was this all going to do to them?

As quickly as it came, the feeling disappeared and she was back in the real world again with Sam's arm around her.

"That seems to be all I ever have. Someday."

"Better than never."

She looked up at him sadly. It was pity and Sam knew it. He shook his head.

"Don't do that. I happen to have a pretty freaking awesome life right now. Best rep in school, first-string on the football team, co-captain of the Glee club, two gorgeous girls to hang out with all the time, and definitely no lack of action in the romance department. I'm doing just fine."

"You amaze me, Sam Evans." She rolled her eyes.

"Right back 'atcha."

After the hubbub died down from Sam's performance, all the girls cooing about how sweet Sam was, Puck acting all nonchalant about his part in it, Mr. Schue praising everything about it, Quinn finally got a chance to look for Rachel, but she wasn't even in the choir room anymore. She saw Sam come back in and was surprised. When did he manage to slip out?

"Where's Rachel?"

"She went home."

He didn't have to say any more than that.

Quinn called her as soon as she was alone, but Rachel acted as though everything was fine. She explained that she left so quickly because her Dad was in the parking lot waiting to pick her up. Quinn told her that her that she wouldn't be able to come over that night, but before she could explain why or say anything else, Rachel cut her off with a breathless ramble. She praised Sam's performance, said some things about how, if she had been involved, she would have tweaked this and that to really get the best sound possible. But it was an admirable performance all the same; then she excused herself quickly and said that she would talk to Quinn tomorrow.

Quinn didn't even get a chance to say good night.

The next day went along as it usually did, but there was a something off between them. Both girls knew it. When the day was over, Rachel asked Quinn to go with her to the auditorium and Quinn was relieved because that meant that they would finally have the chance to talk about what happened yesterday.

She knew it couldn't have been easy for Rachel to witness Sam and Puck singing to her like that. In fact, had she been in Rachel's place, she would have handled it far, far worse. Still, she wanted to clear the air about the whole thing.

"I'm sorry I couldn't come over last night," she said as they made their way into the auditorium, down the aisle.

"It's okay." Rachel shook her head.

"It's just, my Mom really wanted to have dinner together, and have, ugh," she made a face, "quality time because we're never really home at the same time these days."

"Quinn, really," the brunette glanced up at her with a tight lipped smile, "don't worry about it. I understand."

They were walking up the stairs to the stage now, Quinn stepped back to let Rachel go first.

"I know yesterday upset you," she blurted. The words she had been holding on her tongue all day long finally escaped. "That thing in Glee club, Sam's song… I'm sorry. They weren't trying to do anything like win me over or something stupid like that; it was just...nice." She swallowed thickly. "It really meant a lot to me. B-but I understand how it would-"

Rachel turned around, frowning.

"What are you sorry for, exactly?"

The other girl didn't seem prepared for that question as she stammered through a few starts and stops before giving up altogether.

"I don't know?" She shrugged helplessly. "I feel guilty."

"You feel sad because it upset me, not because you have anything to be sorry for."

"Rach-"

"It hurt," she admitted, lowering her head, "a lot actually. But it's no one's fault. I can't blame you for having a past, Quinn, or for having a connection, a-a deep connection with other people. I'm just selfish. I don't want to share you. Any part of you. I realize that's entirely irrational and unfair, but-"

This time Quinn interrupted her.

"I know what you mean," she said softly. "I feel that way every time I see you and Finn in the same room or even when you just laugh at one of Puck's dumb jokes. You shared something with them; you still share it. The past never goes away, even if we want it to."

"I know you love me," Rachel said suddenly. "I know I'm the one you want and not them."

"Do you really?" she pressed, searching for some sign of doubt, some reason that Rachel needed reassurance, but none was there.

"Yes," Rachel replied firmly. "But Sam…and Noah…" she choked on Puck's name, "they have something with you I can never have. I was jealous. I still am. I-I have to work on that."

"But you know that there's nothing I feel for them beyond platonic-"

"I know."

It sounded more convincing that time so Quinn sighed and gave her a smile before letting the subject drop altogether. She wanted so badly to be able to at least hug her, wanted even more to kiss her. Those full lips were just begging for her attention, but they were both acutely aware that they were not alone. The Audio-Visual club was backstage working on Prom decorations. Even if it looked like they weren't paying attention, the girls knew better than to risk it. Rachel nodded towards the piano, urging Quinn to follow, which of course she did.

"Are you sure you still want to go to Prom?" she asked as Rachel seated herself on the bench.

"Of course!" she insisted, bristling as if the mere idea of doing otherwise offended her. "Kurt bailing on me as my date hardly affects that decision!"

"For Blaine Anderson, star of the Warblers." Quinn shook her head disappointedly. "I told him he shouldn't get involved with the competition. Learn from your mistakes."

"You mean my mistakes," Rachel huffed.

She lifted her eyebrow. "That's what I said: your mistakes."

The brunette stuck her tongue out at her and Quinn only smiled.

Rachel tried to focus on the sheet music in front of her, but had a difficult time concentrating. Her girlfriend was infuriatingly adorable sometimes.

Mostly just adorable.

Always beautiful.

Other people would say that Quinn was also scary. Finn said it; Noah said it. She was sure even Santana said it at some point, but in all the years Rachel knew her, she was never once afraid of Quinn Fabray. She should have been. All the taunts, the threats, the slushie facials, the seemingly never-ending barrage of humiliation… But she never thought of Quinn as scary.

And now she knew why. Actually, she'd always known why. She was just too scared of herself to believe it.

Rachel shook her head. "Date possibilities aside, I need you to listen to one of my carefully selected song choices for Prom and give me your feedback. Seeing as how we're the entertainment, I need to make sure I cater to my audience."

"You mean another one of your choices. I've heard five of them already."

Rachel ignored her. "Just tell me if I was brilliant or simply outstanding."

Giggling, Quinn lifted herself up onto the piano.

"What's this one?"

"I felt an Adele song would be suitable seeing as h-how…" Rachel trailed off distractedly.

Quinn had slid herself closer to Rachel and swung her legs around to perch her heels on the edge of the piano and leaned back on her hands. Her knees, which were directly at Rachel's eye level, parted ever so slightly. A deep flush started to spread throughout her body.

Of course she was wearing a dress today. Did Quinn ever wear pants?

No.

Almost never.

And, for that, she thanked God every day.

"Q-Quinn, what are you doing?" she managed to get out hoarsely.

Her mind was taken over by a fiercely visceral image of her shoving Quinn's legs open and burying her mouth…

Stop it!

The blonde gazed down at her curiously. "Uh…waiting to hear you sing?"

Right.

Singing.

Well, it was a good thing she didn't actually need to play the piano because Quinn was blocking any attempt of that.

"You're trying to distract me!" she said accusingly.

Quinn smirked ever so slightly, the innocent façade starting to fall.

"What would I do that for?" She let her legs fall open a tantalizing little bit more, much to Rachel's delight and consternation.

The urge was growing so strong, she didn't think she'd be able to hold on much longer. Only the people behind them were serving as a barrier to Rachel right now. She couldn't stop picturing herself between Quinn's thighs, making her cry her name again and again.

There was music, the most glorious experience in the world that could infuse the soul and then there was the way Quinn Fabray sounded when she was at Rachel's mercy…the breathy moans…the pleading…the sharp cries…groans of pleasure…sobbing for release…

Rachel couldn't decide which was better.

Never in a million years would she have thought she'd have to make a decision like that, that it would even be a possibility! It was simply inconceivable!

Now with Quinn Fabray in her life like this… possibilities suddenly became endless.

"Come on! I'm not waiting around all day for this."

Wait? Waiting for what? Did she really want…

Rachel looked up in a panic at her expectant girlfriend who was simply watching her with an odd look.

Singing! Remember? You're supposed to be singing! That's why you're here…in the auditorium…on stage…to sing!

The corners of Quinn's mouth turned up ever so slightly. She knew oh so very well what she was doing and relished every moment of it.

Annoyed, Rachel glowered at her, but she couldn't help looking back between Quinn's legs, unconsciously licking her lips at the very clear view she had of her girlfriend's panties. They were sky blue.

She always had a way of spinning Rachel off into the clouds…

"Quinn!" she pleaded.

The blonde sighed exaggeratedly, as though put upon, and swung her legs back around dutifully. Instead, she lay down on her stomach atop the piano, using her elbows for support. She crossed her ankles in the air and swung them back and forth lightly as she waited. This wasn't much better because now her breasts were spilling out right before Rachel. That creamy white, silky smooth, mouth watering flesh displayed before her and all she could think of was…

No!

Quinn would not win this battle of the wills! Not if she had anything to say about it!

So Rachel cleared her throat, somehow managed to find the strength to tear her eyes away from that utterly delicious sight, and took a deep breath before starting to sing.

"There's a fire starting in my heart,
Reaching a fever pitch, and it's bringing me out the dark."

Quinn smiled serenely as she listened to her girlfriend. No one could ever make her feel the things Rachel did when she sang. It went deeper than anything, deeper, higher, and all around her. She could feel her spirits lifting, rising almost to a point of giddiness. Rachel could do anything to her with just that voice alone.

Quinn was so enraptured that she never saw what was coming. She let her guard down and she was damned. Bad things always happened when she did that.

Another voice had joined in from further away.

A strong voice.

A beautiful voice.

A male voice.

Quinn and Rachel snapped up to see Jesse St. James up by the doors to the auditorium.

"Finally I can see you crystal clear,
Go ahead and sell me out and I'll lay your ship bare.
See how I'll leave with every piece of you.
Don't underestimate the things that I will do."

Quinn didn't notice, but Rachel did. The blonde literally growled. The decorating committee had unfathomably decided it was appropriate to join in and harmonize with the rat demon bastard. Quinn spun around and glared at them so frighteningly that they immediately shut up, dropped their tools, and hightailed it out of there, rolling the giant star with them.

Of course, that didn't stop Jesse. He kept singing like Rachel was the only one in the room. The people backstage didn't exist as they loudly, recklessly, made their escape. The school didn't exist.

Quinn didn't exist.

"There's a fire starting in my heart,
Reaching a fever pitch, and it's bringing me out the dark.
The scars of your love remind me of us.
They keep me thinking that we almost had it all."

Three steps and she could probably choke the life out of him…

Yes, she was legitimately considering it.

Rachel still hadn't said a word. In fact, she hadn't even moved, only enough to keep her gaze fixated on Jesse as he came up the stairs and around the piano. Quinn felt like she should have steam pouring out of her ears right now. Her heart thumped wildly against her chest; blood roared in her ears. That sickly feeling of…she didn't want to say it…made her stomach churn and her muscles ache. Everything hurt right now.

"The scars of your love, they leave me breathless.
I can't help feeling…"

Rachel suddenly jumped in again to join him with "We could have had it all!" and Quinn's vision swam before her.

"Enough!" the blonde leapt off the piano, angrily smoothing down her dress. Rachel at least had the decency to look somewhat embarrassed. She averted her gaze while Quinn spun around to face the boy with a fierce glare.

"What are you doing here, St. James?" she spat, not caring to mask her feelings about his sudden appearance in the slightest.

"I came back to see Rachel," he replied and looked at the brunette with a gentle smile. "It's good to see you."

"Jesse," she said warily, "what are you doing-"

"You're not wanted," Quinn snarled. "Turn around and get out."

"Pardon me, Quinn, while you're looking lovely as ever and, oddly, rancorous enough to tear me from limb to limb-"

He leaned in as if to whisper and she dug her nails into her palms at his unwanted proximity.

"it's a good look on you by the way," he moved back again, "but I did say I was here for Rachel and Rachel is the one who gets to decide whether or not I stay."

Quinn was debating which method of homicide would be better, pushing him off the stage so he broke his neck and she could claim an accident, or wait until later when she could push him into oncoming traffic…

"You need to leave, Jesse." Rachel stood up and went to Quinn's side. She still wasn't looking him in the eye. "Whatever it is you're up to this time, I'm not interested."

"But that's just it," he pleaded. "I'm here to make amends. Rachel, what I did to you…that's my one great regret."

Quinn huffed loudly.

"Yeah…" Rachel mumbled. "It was kind of weird. One day you were telling me that you loved me and then you were inexplicably throwing eggs at my head the next."

"I know, I know." He nodded remorsefully. "I traded love for a fourth consecutive National Championship. It was a bum deal. For a first maybe, but for a fourth, no way."

"That's it?" Quinn cried, disgusted. "That's all you have to say? You egged her and you have the nerve to talk like that? Just say 'it was a bum deal'? Screw you! Take your ridiculous, so three years ago, metrosexual scarf, gelatinous hair, and get out of my school!"

Jesse ignored her and kept his gaze on Rachel who was standing still as stone.

"I know what I did was horrible; I need to fix that. Rachel…I haven't been able to stop thinking about you."

Quinn was so angry…and beneath it so frightened…that she was speechless. She could only turn to Rachel for help, praying that what she found there wouldn't cause her pain.

The brunette watched Jesse for a long moment before finally turning her eyes to the floor with a sigh and then back up at Quinn.

She knew what was coming before Rachel even opened her mouth. She could see it in her eyes.

Please don't do this to me…

"Quinn…" Rachel said timidly, but then cleared her throat so she sounded stronger. "Could you excuse us for a moment? I need to speak with Jesse. Alone."

Quinn was shaking her head before Rachel even finished speaking.

"No. There's no way I'm leaving you here with-"

"I promise, it's fine. Just wait for me outside? It won't take long."

"Rachel-"

Don't ask me to do this. Don't push me away for him. He doesn't deserve you! He hurt you! Let me protect you… for once.

With all her heart, Quinn pleaded with Rachel silently. Though the other girl could see it written desperately across Quinn's face, she was resolute. She had made her decision and Quinn had to leave.

Devastated and angrier than she could hold in, her expression grew hardened. Rachel looked like she wanted to say something to comfort her, but there was no comfort available then. Quinn threw another fearsome glare Jesse's way before storming off the stage, ready to tear something apart with her bare hands.

Rachel winced when she heard the thunderous crash of the doors to the auditorium slammed closed behind her girlfriend. She swore to herself that she would make it up to Quinn later, but right now, Jesse was the most pressing issue at hand.

Things were never completely resolved between the two of them. She knew that they needed closure - she wanted that closure - and as much as it hurt Quinn, it was necessary that she had time alone with Jesse to achieve that.

She just hoped Quinn wasn't too upset. Unfortunately, the fire in her eyes and the booming crash that followed had Rachel leaning otherwise.

She was really going to have some making up to do…

"Ah so that's it then," Jesse said under his breath, bringing Rachel out of her musings.

He was staring at the solidly closed doors at the top of the aisle that Quinn just exited.

"What's 'it'?"

Jesse turned back to her with a rueful smile. "I would have thought you'd wait until your first off-Broadway casting to experiment like everyone else does, but it's good you're getting a head start on this too."

Furious indignation bubbled over in her and Rachel exclaimed, "She's not an-!" She clapped her hand over her mouth, realizing what she'd just admitted to, what Jesse had just tricked her into.

He leaned against the piano causally, too casually to actually be casual, but that was Jesse.

"I told you once, you deserved an epic romance," he sighed, sounding more serious than she ever remembered him being.

It was strange. He was dramatic, intense, and passionate about everything he did, but never had he sounded so sincere before. Rachel didn't know what to say. Then he broke the moment by slipping right back into the Jesse St. James she knew so well.

"Of course, I had myself in mind at the time." He shrugged with a wave of his hand and she rolled her eyes. "But even so...I still meant it."

"Why are you here?" Rachel asked, exasperated. "Really? I mean, after all you were only pursuing me at my birth mother's behest, led me on to believe you loved me, and then ended with an extraordinarily dramatic and humiliating break up which climaxed with you cracking an egg over my head."

"Okay, yes, I admit it's all true. We went over it and it doesn't exactly sound so great when you put it together like that..."

Rachel scoffed.

"But can you honestly tell me you don't believe that I had real feelings for you? That I still have them?"

She considered it. "No. I guess I can't." She flipped her hair over her shoulder. "You're not that good of an actor."

"A criticism I accept and have vowed to improve upon. I've gotten feedback from people saying that no matter what character I play, I come across as a creepy stalker and incredibly homosexual."

"Are you gay?" she cried, horrified, and put her head in her hands. "That would just be another thing to add to the trauma that was our relationship."

"No. I happen to continue to enjoy the pleasure of women, thank you. But you're one to talk, Miss Rachel Berry."

"Not that it's any of your business," she sniffed, straightening her back, "but I have not chosen sides."

"Bi?"

She shrugged. Indeed she had explained to Quinn a while ago that she considered herself bi, but the more time she had to ruminate on it, the more she began to question any label. Was it true that she was sexually attracted to both men and women? Yes. However, being with Quinn made her realize that gender wasn't really relevant at all, at least not for her personally. Love defied labels, and now Rachel was reluctant to label herself beyond a human being, one who was very much in love.

"So you're not floating in the sea of Sapphic lovers?"

"There is no either or, okay?"

He nodded understandingly and slid onto the piano bench next to her. "Well, now we both feel better."

"It's not exactly at the top of my priority list to make you feel better, Jesse," she replied dryly.

"Fair enough, I only wanted to-"

"I thought you were in LA, in college," she said brusquely. "What happened?"

"Ugh, that." He made a face. "It was such a waste of my time. They say I flunked out, but it's a total lie and completely unfair. I mean, how was I supposed to know that I was actually supposed to show up to those other classes? I was majoring in show choir! I just assumed it would be like at Carmel and the school would get some Asian kid to take math, English, and scientific for me."

"Oh," she replied awkwardly. "That's…awful."

"Hey, Rach!"

Sam came running down the aisle, out of breath and cheeks flushed for some reason. He waved awkwardly at Jesse and turned back to her, trying to look the picture of nonchalance. He wasn't fooling anyone.

"Aren't you coming to Glee?"

She didn't even bother to look at him, just pointed her index finger at the door. "Go away, Sam!"

"But you're going to be-"

"I know Quinn sent you in here," she cut him off impatiently, "so just go back out and tell her she needs to wait like I asked her to do. I'm not finished here yet."

Sam shuffled his feet a little, not contradicting her, before reluctantly leaving. Rachel sighed and turned back to Jesse who was watching Sam's departure with interest.

"Now who was that?"

"That?" Rachel raised an eyebrow ruefully. "That would be Quinn's boyfriend."

"Ah. Let me guess, while he plays 'white picket fences' with Quinn, he's got Kurt on the other side with you?"

"No!" Rachel protested, indignant, but laughed anyway. "Kurt's actually dating someone else and Sam's not gay."

"So you say."

"Ironic coming from the boy who knows all the lines to 'Funny Girl' by heart."

"That's just the test of a true show choir talent!"

"It's also a product of stereotypical judgment."

"Touché, Miss Berry."

Rachel rested her elbows carefully against the piano. "It's just...complicated. Okay?"

"It wouldn't be your epic love without it."

That threw her.

"W-what makes you think that…Quinn..." she stammered, blood rushing to her cheeks, which surely gave her away.

"Come on, Rachel." He rolled his eyes. "I may have lied to you, manipulated you, humiliated you, not to mention broke your heart, but that doesn't mean I don't know you. Quinn? That girl? She's always been there. I should have seen it before. Maybe I did and just didn't want to accept it. It was easier to deal with that Paul Bunyan freak you had slobbering over you at the time than to think... Well, denial is a man's best friend."

In that moment, she realized how right he was. Memories flooded back, all the time she spent with Jesse, countless hours of just talking about music and dreams and Broadway and stardom… He may have been pretending in that time, but she never did. Rachel felt that old connection between them surge to life again as she remembered what it was like to share things with someone so like her once again. That same familiarity she encountered the day she met him, the first time they sang together… She had never felt such an instantaneous kinship before.

"Do you think I'm a fool for doing this?" she whispered.

"Yes." He shook his head with a kind smile. "I think you're in love, which very well means the same thing as being a fool."

"Thanks," she groaned. "You've been such a help today, really, good job on that 'making it up to me' thing. Can you just leave now?"

He pretended he didn't hear that and leaned towards her. "I saw the prom campaign posters in the hall. Safe to assume she's going with him?"

"Yes."

"Well, if it isn't too much for me to presume, I'd like to take you to Prom, Rachel. Let me try to give you a great night."

"I know it may not look it, but I'm with-"

"I understand. I propose this entirely under the guise of friendship. I told you I needed to make amends. How about I start with one extraordinary night? Everyone deserves their Prom night to be special."

She looked at him warily. "As friends?"

"I swear it."

He placed his hand over his heart and she believed him.

"Then I accept your proposal, Jesse St. James." Rachel gathered her sheet music and stood up. "Don't forget the corsage."

"Hey, Rachel?" He called after her from the stage as she made her way up the aisle. She looked back at him over her shoulder.

"For what it's worth, I'm happy for you. Even if I wanted it to be me."

"We're too much alike," she replied quietly. "As much as I love our shared passion for all things show, our drive, our determination...it was never right. I think you know that."

"Apparently. Seems blondes are more your type."

"Blonde," she corrected him firmly. "As in one. Just one. You may be my counterpart, St. James, but she's..."

"Yeah?"

"Nevermind." Rachel waved him off with a sigh and looked at him sadly. "Jesse...I-I really cared about you."

"And I loved you. I just didn't know it at the time."

"As much as I hate to admit it, you're one of the few people in the world who really get me. You know me, the good and the bad."

"I do." He nodded.

"So," she said nervously, "as a person who knows me, d-do you think it'll be...what I want it to be? Is it?"

He gazed at her for a long moment before sighing and settled back on his heels.

"You know the answer to that better than I do. And I know I don't have a chance in hell of winning you back, which I freely admit was a driving force behind my intentionally abrupt and dramatic return to McKinley."

Rachel tilted her head thoughtfully. For some reason, it felt nice to have him here again. She liked seeing him on the stage like that. She liked being around him. She liked having another friend who understood her, what most would call, tendencies towards insanity.

"Are you going to be around for awhile?"

He chuckled. "Only if you insist."

Smiling, Rachel hugged the sheet music closer to her chest and it wasn't until she reached the doors that a knot in her stomach formed.

How was she going to break this to Quinn?

Chapter Text

Quinn did not like the look Rachel gave her when she finally…finally walked out of the auditorium. At least it looked like Jesse hadn't followed.

"Are you okay?" she asked briskly.

"Everything's fine, Quinn." Rachel gave her a reassuring smile that didn't work in the least. "He apologized and we've…worked things out. No more loose ends there."

"Is he gone?" she asked bluntly.

The brunette faltered slightly as she was held captive by fractured hazel eyes.

"Um, no, not exactly. He left college so he's…he's thinking of maybe staying in town for a little longer."

The very second after Rachel finished relaying her conversation with Jesse, she wished she could just take it all back, because the look on Quinn's face made her feel like she'd just torn apart their world.

"SHE'S TAKING HIM TO PROM! JESSE ST. JAMES, THE EX-FREAKING-BOYFRIEND THAT SMASHED AN EGG OVER HER HEAD! SHE'S GOING ON A DATE WITH HIM WHILE I'M HER GIRLFRIEND!"

"You're going with your ex-boyfriend too," Sam pointed out in bewilderment.

"THAT'S COMPLETELY DIFFERENT!" She whirled around on him angrily.

"How?"

"I BROKE UP WITH YOU!"

"And you think because Jesse was the one who dumped Rachel, she's going to go running back into his arms? Quinn, you need to get a grip here. Besides, why are you here in my room yelling at me about Rachel when you should be yelling at Rachel about Rachel?"

"I can't yell at her!" she cried wildly, tugging her fingers through her hair. "I can't say anything about it! My hands are tied, Sam. I'm screwed. How can I argue with her about who she goes to Prom with when I'm…"

"Going with your ex?"

"But it's different! She knows that! Why would she… She knows how much it would hurt me to see her there with Jesse."

"It seems like she just wants a friend for that night," he reasoned. "She deserves that. You're right, Quinn. You can't argue with her at all. So just let it go."

"LET IT GO? LIKE HELL! Forget it. I'm so sick of this whole charade! I'm not going. I refuse. I won't go to that stupid dance and watch her laugh and flirt and dance with Jesse all night. It's not worth it."

"We're going to be Prom King and Queen!" he protested. "You can't bail on me!"

"You can still win," she muttered, waving him off. "I don't have to be there."

"That's not the point and you know it. You can't not go, Quinn. After all that I've done for you, that I'm still doing for you, you are not going to make me go stag to Prom!"

"I'm sorry. I know it's awful of me, but I can't-"

"You can and you will!" he insisted. "You're going to suck it up, put on your dress, and go to this dance. You really should do it for me with all the crap I put up with, but I know you won't, so you're going to do it for Rachel."

"What are you talking about?"

"If you don't show, it'll ruin her whole night. You don't think she's not going to spend the entire time worrying about you and feeling guilty that you're not there? It's a big night, Quinn. The point is to enjoy it. High school only happens once in a lifetime, we won't ever get to have these chances again once they're gone. I know you're not selfish enough to ruin this for Rachel, so you're going to go through with this, no matter how much it kills you."

She covered her face with her hands, desperately trying to hold the tears at bay. "But h-how am I going to be able to…?"

He sighed. "You're making it into a bigger deal than it is. It's not like she's going to have all this super intimate alone time with him! Think about it. We're all meeting up at Breadstix pre-Prom. Then the four of us are going with Tina, Mike, Santana, and whoever she's taking, in a limo to the school. We're just going to be with our friends and dance and have fun. It won't even be like a date."

"And what about before that?"

"Before?" he echoed in confusion.

"You know…" Quinn swallowed thickly, "the part where he goes to her house, makes small talk with her Dads." Her voice grew unsteady. "She'll…she'll walk down the stairs in her dress and she'll look…" Tears formed in her eyes. "He'll give her a corsage and tell her how beautiful she is. They'll stand together and take pictures while her fathers coo over their baby girl all grown up. Rachel will walk out of there on his arm."

Quinn wiped away the tears on her cheeks.

"I want it to be me," she said brokenly. "That should be our moment to share, but instead he gets to have that, and I can't do anything about it."

"It's just one night, Quinn," he said softly, "just one moment when you'll get to have all of the others."

The way his kind blue eyes bore into hers, Quinn felt her heart twist just that painful bit tighter.

What was she doing to this boy? Had her selfishness reached such terrible heights now that she cared nothing for the fact that they both very well knew he harbored romantic feelings for her still? Yet, she took his friendship for granted and wielded it for her own sake with little thought to how it may still affect him? She was better than this. She was a better person than this. She wasn't the Quinn Fabray that had barged into Rachel's room all those months ago, blindly trying to fix her own world, without pausing to think of the others she would inflict pain upon.

The realization stopped her dead.

"Sam…" she whimpered after a gasp and raised her hand to her mouth, "I'm so... I wasn't thinking, please, I'm so sorry. Here I am complaining endlessly about not getting to go with Rachel when I have this incredible guy who's giving up his own Prom night just to be a good friend. I'm sure you would much rather be able to take…" She struggled through the vague list of female names in her head that she'd heard him mention in the past few months. "Emma? Emily?"

She sagged down next to him on the bed, her hands in her lap in a gesture of helplessness.

He shook his head resolutely. "I'd rather take you. Listen, Quinn, it's not ideal, but the person at the bottom of the stairs doesn't have to be the love of your life. Just as long as it's someone you care about, then that's the only thing that matters. That's what will make the night memorable. Who can you think of that ended up happily spending the rest of their lives with their prom date? It's crazy rare. Most people just try to burn their prom pictures anyway."

She shrugged. "We won't have to worry about that."

"We're way too pretty to have bad Prom pictures," he agreed.

She laughed softly and he grinned back at her, eyes twinkling.

She really did love this boy and she knew she would love him as a man when the day came. There was no breaking this apart. Whatever it was they had, she couldn't break it, nor did she ever want to.

"No matter how hard this is, Sam," she took his hand in hers and squeezed meaningfully, "I need you to know how proud I'll be to walk in there with you. I'm proud to even be able to call you my friend. You're one of the most amazing people I've ever known. I don't deserve to have someone like you." She chuckled ruefully. "Though I'm sure you regret the day you ever met me."

"Sometimes," he nodded in all sincerity, "but mostly? I know that meeting you was one of the best things that will ever happen to me, Quinn. I'll know that for the rest of my life."

She gazed at him tearfully and her voice stuck in her throat. "How can you say that?"

After all I've done to you? All the hurt? All the lies? How can you know me like this and still love me?

How can Rachel?

He gave her a crooked smile and lifted his eyebrows innocently. "Uh…with words? I think that's what they're called anyway."

She rolled her eyes in exasperation and shoved him lightly. "Shut up."

"Hey…" he nudged her back, "Rachel loves you, not this Jesse kid."

Her present situation came roaring back with a vengeance. She felt like she was being stabbed in the stomach every time it came up or she thought about it, and so she felt it endlessly.

"You don't know what it was like with them," she replied despondently. "You weren't here. He always had this…hold over her! They're so much alike. You thought Rachel was a diva? He's even more of one!"

"So they have stuff in common. Big deal." He shrugged. "She told him first thing about the two of you. You were the one on her mind, not him. Rachel doesn't have any interest in getting back together with this guy."

"You don't know that!" she insisted.

"Are you really that scared she'll go back to him? I thought you had more faith in Rachel than that."

"It's not about me trusting her," she said sadly. "Jesse…he can give her what I can't. He can take her to Prom. He can keep up with her on stage. He…he can see that world inside her head better than I can, that completely insane yet extraordinary warped world of dreams, passion, and ambition. If there was anyone in our lives that I thought could make Rachel leave me, i-it's him."

"Well," Sam sighed, leaning back on his hands, "there is one thing he can't give her."

"And what's that?" she asked wearily.

Sam looked her straight in the eye.

"You."

"Hello, Santana."

The Latina stared at Rachel for a long, hard moment, before looking around at the crowded hallway filling McKinley High early that morning.

"Berry…" she said carefully, "what the hell are you doing?"

Rachel pretended as though absolutely nothing was out of the ordinary, that Santana didn't look like she was going to have her dumped in a vat of hot oil, and continued perkily.

"I realize that I'm risking my physical safety by speaking with you, but I hoped to do this quickly in a very, very public place to lower the risk of you pummeling my face."

Santana only stared at her.

"Firstly, I need to apologize for our exchange the other day. Both of us said things that I'm sure we regret and though you'll never admit it, I'm just going to believe you do, so please accept my apology for my transgression."

The Latina looked ready to bolt…or murder…Rachel didn't know which and thought it best not to dwell.

"Secondly, you need to sing to Brittany again."

Oh, that was definitely murder.

"What…did you just say to me?" she hissed, stepping in so close that Rachel was forced to stumble back a little bit.

"I-I said you need to sing to her again. Now that she and Artie have broken up, this is the most opportune time for you to-"

"Quinn is dead! She is so freaking dead!"

"Santana, please just hear me out! I've been in a similar position as Brittany and you could use my perspective on this. When a person you love has been mistreating you for such a long period of time-"

"I'VE NEVER-!" Santana started to yell, but cut herself off when the crowd started noticing them. "You don't know a thing about me and Brittany," she snarled, "so my advice would be to shut your Streisand-whining mouth right now before I permanently close it for you!"

Rachel knew what a risk she was taking by daring to call Santana out on such a thing. The Latina was so fiercely protective of Brittany. To imply otherwise was like signing your own death warrant, but Rachel needed to make her see that while she was good to Brittany in so many ways, there were also many ways that she was not.

"Every time you denied your feelings for her, every time you went out with another boy after likely spending the night with her, you don't think that was hurting her, Santana? Now that you've admitted your real feelings, you can't just expect her to come running into your arms with all forgiven. It's confusing and it's not fair of you to be angry with her for rightly feeling that way."

"This is NONE of your business!" She was starting to grow desperate. "And if you even think about telling anyone-"

"You're not listening to me!" Rachel said stubbornly. "If what you feel for Brittany is as strong as you say then you need to prove that, over and over, however many times it takes. You were wrong, Santana, and you've been wrong for a long time. Now is not the time to think about yourself, but to think about Brittany. Prove it to her. Prove that you mean it. Prove that this is what you want." She lowered her voice. "Prove that she's what you want."

Santana swallowed thickly.

"Brittany obviously cares deeply for you, Santana, but speaking as a person who has been in a place somewhat similar to her, it's hard to understand such a change when it's so abrupt. It's hard to believe it's real. You need to make her know it's real. So…sing to her again. Something simple, beautiful, and very direct – leave no room for interpretation. If you want this, if you really want it, then you have to fight."

Santana narrowed her eyes at her. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I believe you deserve to be happy. And I want Brittany to be happy too."

She couldn't think of anything to say. Not a single word found its way to her tongue.

"Um, well, that's everything." Rachel nodded, pleased that she was able to voice everything that she needed to. "I'll go back to leaving you alone now. Thank you for not...causing me bodily injury."

Santana watched the smaller girl leave with a lump in her throat.

Quinn was sitting on the steps in the courtyard alone for once. She was hardly in the mood to socialize with anyone today and so the book in her hand was a well-known signal by now for her friends to avoid her. It's not like the only reason Quinn ever read was so that people would leave her alone; she actually really enjoyed it. It was something that had helped to keep her on top of the rest of school in academics, in addition to being on top of everything else.

Rachel, however, never paid attention to Quinn's book signal. She pretended not to understand what it meant, though she very well did. She just liked to ignore it. Today was no different.

"Hey there," she said, tucking her dress beneath her carefully as she sat beside Quinn on the concrete steps. "You've been kind of MIA today."

Quinn couldn't bring herself to look at her.

"I haven't missed a single class. I'm where I always am," she replied curtly.

"I didn't mean physically absent."

She snapped her book shut. "I'm going to go get something to eat."

"Quinn."

That stopped her.

"I know you're upset about this thing with Jesse, but why won't you talk to me about it? Why are you just shutting me out?"

"We're not going to talk about this!" she barked with more vigor than she intended and tried to rein it back in. "We're just going to get through the next few days," she said tersely. "Prom is on Saturday, and then we can go back to normal, forget about everything."

She tucked her book into her bag and started down the stairs.

"You have no right to punish me for this," Rachel said quietly.

It was all Quinn could do to keep from breaking down. This is exactly what she was trying to avoid. It was all she could do to put one foot in front of the other today, keeping on a brave face, just so that she could get through this without having her insides torn apart. She wasn't trying to hurt Rachel; she was just trying to save herself. But it wasn't working out for either of them.

With her back to her, Quinn replied as calmly as she could, "I'm not punishing you. I'm not trying to stop you or ask you... Look, I won't do anything to-" She took a deep breath. "Just…please…let me get through this."

And she walked off, furiously blinking away the tears.