Let the Distance Keep Us Together

[powergrapes]

Title: Let the Distance Keep Us Together
Fandom: Glee
Pairings: Rachel/Quinn
Spoilers: None, really. But let's say "Audition" for mention of a new character.
Rating: R
Word Count: 10,253
Description: Rachel and Quinn break up when they go to college.
Note: So I haven't written anything in a long time - and probably won't for a while either (sorry, folks - lack of time). I found this story sitting around and since it was mostly finished, decided to update it a little and post it. Also, I just want to take this opportunity to thank whoever it was who bestowed me with a paid account. I dedicate this to you.
Note: Despite mention of Sam's name, this was written before season 2 and so Artie and Tina are still together.


Now every day you feel a bit less
And when you get dressed remind yourself this
And there's just yourself you can do
Yeah there's just so much you can do
And I say let the distance bring us together again

"Let the Distance Keep Us Together" - Britt Daniels & Bright Eyes

It feels kind of like hitting yourself repeatedly in the head with a hammer, only not as much fun.

"I just don't want to be one of those couples," Quinn says in a voice hoarse from crying. "I don't want the endless hours of phone interrogations. I don't want us lying to each other about what we did on Friday night. And I don't want us to be holding back from having all the new experiences that we're supposed to have."

It's their last night in Lima together, and they're in Rachel's bedroom, finally having that conversation they've been studiously avoiding for the last three months. In the end though, they both know what's coming; Quinn's just the one with the courage to say it first.

"I understand," Rachel replies. And she does. College changes everything. The transition itself is hard enough, but throw in a long distance relationship (Rachel to New York; Quinn to Chicago) and Rachel's smart enough to recognize that the survival rate of their relationship is hovering at somewhere near the five percent mark. She's heard the cliched stories. She doesn't need to be one too. She presses her lips to Quinn's, tasting the bitter salt of their intermingled tears. With trembling hands, she begins unbuttoning Quinn's blouse.

"We'll be friends," Quinn whispers as she leans into Rachel's touch.

"We have to be," Rachel whispers back. "I need you in my life. I'll always need you."

And Quinn replies in the same way she always does when Rachel says something like that - "I'll always need you", "I'll love you forever":

"Always for how long?" For Quinn, permanence is an illusion because sooner or later, everything dies: people, stars, the universe, God, even love.

Rachel doesn't answer. She never does. She knows that there aren't any pretty words she can use to suddenly convert Quinn into an optimist. So she just dips her head down and latches on to the sensitive park of Quinn's neck that makes the blonde shiver and moan. Rachel shuts her eyes tight, sucks a little harder, and tries to memorize every sound her girlfriend makes, thinking that this is probably the last time she'll get to hear it.

"I love you," Rachel says when she's lying naked on top of Quinn, her hands gently roaming the terrain of the blonde's eagerly awaiting body.

"I love y-" Quinn breaks off into a sharp sob, the burning in her throat chasing the words away. Rachel kisses her, reassuring and loving.

"It's all right. I know."

But Quinn shakes her head, and forces herself to draw a deep breath. It's their last time together, and she needs to say it. Rachel needs to hear it.

"I love you too."

There's nothing more to say. They make love late into the night. It's a bit of an unceremonious end to their year-long relationship, and neither of them would have it any other way.

***

Rachel Berry loves New York. She's dreamt of it ever since she was a child, and it's turning out to be everything she ever imagined. Juilliard is challenging her in ways McKinley never could. The bustling city never sleeps. There are vegan options everywhere. Her list of Broadway, off-Broadway and off-off-Broadway shows to see is seemingly inexhaustible; although, sadly, the same can not be said for her funds. Rachel loves New York. For the most part.

Rachel's second-to-least-favorite part about New York is that her roommate is kind of freakin' nuts.

"...she's insane! She's the most insufferable person I've ever met. She's unrelentingly intense and high-strung."

Quinn's lilting laugh comes over the phone line.

"Okay, you describing someone as unrelentingly intense and high-strung? That scares me."

"I'm serious! She put yellow tape right down the center of the room and I'm apparently not allowed in 'her space'. And she demands absolute silence from the hours of eight p.m. to seven a.m. because that's her period of respite," Rachel huffs. "She's completely crazy!"

"Well, now you know how the rest of glee club felt about you," Quinn teases.

"You can't see me right now, but I'm giving you my I-Am-Displeased-Look," Rachel informs her.

"I love that look," Quinn says with a soft sigh. "You're so cute when you pout."

"I do not pout!"

"I bet you're pouting right now."

Rachel glances in the mirror - and of course, Quinn's right. She's pouting.

"I choose not to dignify that with a response. And I have to go. Kurt's coming by in a few minutes."

Out of all the glee club members, Kurt's the only other person to end up in NYC. He attends the Fashion Institute of Technology. Rachel and Kurt have never been close, but they're two Lima kids in a big city where they don't know anyone else, so they seek each other out.

"Say hi to him for me."

"I will."

"Hey, Rachel?"

"Yes?"

"What's your least favorite part about New York?" Quinn asks. "You said that your roommate's the second to least favorite. What's the first?"

"You, of course," Rachel replies, her tone marked with surprise. The answer should have been obvious. "My least favorite part about New York is that you're not here." The ensuing silence is so long that Rachel thinks that their call has been dropped. AT&T sucks. "Hello? Quinn?"

"I miss you," Quinn says softly.

Rachel smiles even though the other girl can't see her and says,

"I miss you too."

***

Rachel and Quinn talk on the phone every day. Things get busy for both of them pretty quickly as the semester progresses, but they always call, even if it's just for a couple of minutes to say goodnight. Their conversations usually end the same way.

"I love you," Rachel says to Quinn before hanging up. She's studying with Kurt in a coffee shop in Midtown. Their work is of course completely different, so they're not actually studying together, but it's nice to have the company. Kurt now looks up from his notes and shoots Rachel a confused look.

"Didn't you guys break up?"

"We are broken up. Quinn and I are just friends." Kurt looks unconvinced, so Rachel adds defensively, "Friends verbalize their affection for one another all the time. I've heard you and Mercedes exchange similar sentiments."

"That's not the same thing. Mercedes and I say, 'Love ya! Bye!'," Kurt says in a high-pitch tone. "You and Quinn are like, 'I. Love. You. Farewell, my precious.'" Kurt drops his voice to a baritone in mocking mimic.

"We're just friends," Rachel states firmly. "As much as it pains me to say so, romance simply isn't an option between us at this time."

"Uh-huh," Kurt says skeptically.

"It was the practical choice."

"I agree."

"You do?" Rachel looks surprised. Kurt never agrees with her on anything.

"Completely. I think that your decision was very rational," Kurt says. "Then again, I also think that you and Quinn aren't very good at being rational."

***

Quinn visits in late October for a weekend. She gets on a plane immediately after her last class on Friday. The flight's expensive for a college student, but she's been budgeting carefully. She knows that Rachel's planning on meeting her at the airport, but she's a little worried that she won't be able to find the brunette in the crowd.

It doesn't turn out to be any trouble at all, because the instant Quinn steps through the double doors exiting the secure area, she hears a high-pitched squeal. Three seconds later, she finds herself firmly enveloped in Rachel's arms. There in the middle of the pathway, she drops her bag to the ground and return the hug, ignoring the frustrated grumblings of other passengers who have to circle around them. Quinn inhales deeply, breathing in that scent she's missed day and night since she's left Lima. They remain in that tight embrace for several minutes. Eventually, they do move on, but only after some prompting in the form of a security guard clearing his throat.

They take the subway into Manhattan, and Rachel excitedly jabbers on about the plans she's made for them.

"We can go see a show - your choice, of course. There's a party tomorrow night. You can meet my friends then. You'll love Chelsea, she does the best impression of Mr. Rogers. Oh, and we're going to meet Kurt for dinner tonight."

Quinn can only nod tiredly. It's been a long day for her, and she's struggling to keep her eyes open as it is. Rachel frowns, and touches her hand to Quinn's face, gently caressing.

"You're tired, aren't you? Would you like to take a nap first? We'll go back to my room first so you can get some sleep," Rachel decides. "My roommate's away for the weekend. It'll be quiet."

"That sounds good," Quinn says through a large yawn. She leans her body into Rachel, placing her head against the brunette's shoulder. God, she's missed that.

***

Quinn comes with a sharp cry, her body shuddering as she arches her hips into Rachel's hand. She falls back onto the pillow, panting wildly as she feels Rachel place soft kisses up her torso on a trail to her neck. She's really missed that.

That nap she was supposed to take? Didn't happen. Within five minutes of getting inside the door to Rachel's dorm room, their clothes were being shed into a pile on the floor. It's unclear who made the first move. Once the door was closed, their eyes met, and they both knew what was going to happen. There was no time for words or seduction; they charged at one another, coming together with frenzied need.

Now in the amorous aftermath, they cuddle close to each other, basking in the warmth of skin and affection.

"The plans are flexible," Rachel murmurs quietly, her words muffled by her mouth nuzzling Quinn's pale shoulder.

"Hmm?"

"The plans I had for us this weekend," Rachel clarifies. "They may be changed. I'm quite content with our current course of action."

"Can't argue with that."

They lie quietly together for a few minutes, and Quinn is on the verge of nodding off when there's a knock at the door.

"Ignore it," Rachel mutters, her own voice thick with sleep. And they do, but the knocks come again, this time followed by a familiar voice.

"Rachel? Are you there?"

"Oh, no!" Rachel gasps, springing out of bed. "I completely forgot!" She wraps a blanket around herself and she rushes to the door, unlocking and pulling it open to reveal a very cross-looking Kurt Hummel.

"Rachel Berry, I have been waiting for-" He cuts himself off when he realizes that Rachel is wearing - well, basically nothing. "Oh." He looks past her, and spots Quinn sitting up in bed with the sheets drawn against her chest. "Oh."

"Hey, Kurt," Quinn greets weakly.

"Hi, Quinn. It's good to see you again. It's usually better to see you when you're dressed, but this will do for the time being." Kurt directs his gaze back to Rachel, his expression a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "Let me guess. You're going to need a rain check on dinner."

Rachel bites her bottom lip and nods sheepishly.

"I'm sorry, Kurt. Perhaps we can have a Sunday brunch before Quinn's flight."

"You're buying."

"Of course," Rachel says apologetically.

"Very well. You girls enjoy yourselves and I'll see you later." As Kurt turns to go, he tosses out one last observation, "By the way, you two suck at this break-up thing."

***

Sunday comes much too quickly. The girls force themselves out of bed to have brunch with Kurt as promised, then Rachel accompanies Quinn to the airport. They linger by the security checkpoint, holding hands, exchanging soft kisses and delaying the inevitable.

"Did this change anything?" Rachel asks quietly. Quinn hesitates briefly before answering.

"No," she answers with traces of uncertainty. "Did it?"

"No," Rachel replies reluctantly. One weekend doesn't change the 800-mile distance. Quinn untangles herself from Rachel's arms, not to be spiteful, but to prepare herself for the impending separation.

"Friends?" She holds out her hand.

"Friends." Rachel takes her hand, and their goodbye is said with a cordial handshake.

***

Everyone goes home for Thanksgiving break, and they stage a glee club reunion at Mr. Schuester's house, which he now shares with Ms. Pillsbury.

Half the glee kids haven't left Ohio, which is par for the course for McKinley graduates. Finn and Brittany attend community college. Puck didn't go to college; he calls himself a musician, but he makes his living from cleaning pools and taking on odd jobs. Mike and Santana both attend OSU in Columbus, but Santana comes home so often that it feels like she never left. Artie goes to school in Cleveland, which isn't easy because Tina's in Philadelphia. Unlike Rachel and Quinn, they've decided to stay together.

Rachel and Kurt fly in together from New York City. Quinn takes the train in from Chicago. Mercedes flies in from Miami, and Sam drives from Washington D.C. They all come home that first year, and the reunion is more comforting than awkward. It feels like old times again.

At the end of the night, Quinn offers Rachel a ride home. Rachel, of course, accepts, and says goodnight to everyone. When she gets to Kurt, he arches a perfectly plucked brow at her.

"It's only a ride," Rachel says firmly.

"Uh-huh."

"I'm on the way."

"I'm sure that you are." Indecency drips from his voice. "I bet that she'll be giving you a very memorable ride."

"It's not dirty! She's just driving me home!" Rachel protests indignantly. "How can you put that in a pornographic context?"

Mercedes snickers. "Well, he is a teenage boy."

"It's true." Kurt nods solemnly. "While I may not have the obscene wit of, say, Noah Puckerman, I'm still capable of risqué commentary. And in this case, I suspect that my commentaries are prophetic."

"You're wrong," Rachel huffs indignantly. "Quinn and I are just friends now."

"I feel a bet comin' on," Mercedes says.

"Well?" Kurt looks to Rachel, the glint of challenge in his eyes. "It should be easy for you to win. All you have to do is keep your hands off Ms. Fabray."

Rachel's mouth flaps open and close ineffectually. When the sound finally emits from her vocal cords, it comes out in short sputters.

"This is ridiculous," she exclaims. "I will not be participating in such childish wagers. Now, if you'll excuse me, my escort awaits."

After she flounces off, Mercedes turns to Kurt with a sympathetic shrug.

"Too bad. Coulda made an easy buck."

***

Rachel hates being wrong. But as it turns out, being wrong isn't so bad when you get laid in the process.

"Rach?" Quinn's whisper in the dark. Rachel shifts sleepily, her lips brushing against a pale shoulder.

"Mmm?"

"Maybe we should give it a try." She doesn't specify what it is, but she doesn't need to. Rachel's been thinking about the same thing ever since they broke up. They talk on the phone constantly, they fall into bed whenever they meet, and there's no question that they love each other. So why not?

But instead, Rachel says:

"Let's give it a little time and see what develops." Why not? Because they spend months and hundreds of miles apart. Because adding the relationship label complicates everything. Because Rachel's more than a little bit terrified by what will happen if it doesn't work out.

"Okay," Quinn replies, sounding sad but also a little relieved. Rachel lifts her head and seeks out Quinn's lips in the dark.

"But I love you. I'll love you forever."

She can't see Quinn, but she feels the blonde's lips quirk against her own in a bitter smile.

"Forever for how long?"

As usual, Rachel doesn't answer. She just finds a better use for her mouth.

***

There isn't a long stretch between Thanksgiving break and winter break. Thanks to finals and other end-of-the-year activities, the time goes by quickly, and pretty soon they all find themselves back in Lima, Ohio for another glee club reunion.

They have the party at Mercedes' house. Rachel spends all night sitting in Quinn's lap on the couch. Brittany and Santana make out underneath the Christmas tree, even though Santana's supposedly seeing some sophomore from her school. Kurt is dancing with Mercedes and Mike to songs on the radio. Finn, Puck, and Sam fight over the Playstation. It feels like old times again. Well, almost.

Rachel notices that Artie and Tina have spent the evening huddled close together, whispering quietly to one another with solemn expressions. Every once in a while, they leave the room for five or ten minutes. When they come back, they always look more upset than when they left.

Before she leaves with Quinn for the night, Rachel approaches Tina.

"Is everything all right?" she asks cautiously. "Between you and Artie, I mean. I couldn't help but notice that there seemed to be some tension tonight."

"Oh!" Tina flushes slightly, embarrassed that someone noticed. "N- no, we're okay."

"Are you sure?"

There's a glimmer of hesitation before Tina says, "Yes. Everything's great."

"Very well," Rachel responds gently. "But I'm always available if you ever need a friendly ear." Tina returns a grateful smile.

"Thanks, Rachel."

Rachel is genuine with her sympathetic offer, but she doesn't remember Tina's troubles for long. Not when she has Quinn Fabray buried knuckle-deep inside of her.

***

"5... 4... 3... 2... 1!"

Shouts of joy erupt in the Berrys' living room as clock strikes midnight. The party-goers yell, whoop and embrace one another. The Berrys exchange tender kisses. Rachel and Quinn miss all of this because they're upstairs in Rachel's room, their naked bodies writhing against one another.

"Oops," Quinn says at 12:14, when she finally has the presence of mind to glance over at the clock. She's still panting heavily and her skin is hot and slick with sweat. Having the full weight of Rachel's body on top of her doesn't help with the heat, but Quinn's not complaining. "Looks like we missed midnight."

Rachel lazily glances over. There was a time when that would have mattered. Rachel loves traditions, and has almost a maniacal devotion to the rites of celebration. But now they just seem like distractions that take away from every precious second she has with Quinn.

"So we did." She stretches to place a tender kiss against Quinn's jaw. "Happy New Year, baby."

"Happy New Year."

They hold each other quietly, ignoring the revelries of the outside world, indulging in this rare and brief moment where happy is exactly right.

***

Then they're apart again. They have classes to take, and grades to make. So it's back to talking on the phone and late nights where neither can fall asleep, thinking of their pseudo-lover 800 miles away.

They start talking about being together, even if it's only in name and not proximity.

"We already talk all the time," Quinn points out.

"And I do love you." Sitting on her bed, Rachel doodles absentmindedly in the pages of her notebook. Kurt's sprawled out on the floor, bopping his head along to the music emitting from his headphones as he leafs through his textbook. This is supposed to be one of their together-but-separate study sessions, but once Quinn called, Kurt rolled his eyes and pulled on his headphones, knowing that the conversation will take at least an hour.

"I love you too," Quinn replies. Her voice is so small and sad that Rachel feels an oppressive constriction in her chest.

"I suppose it's senseless to say that we're not in a relationship."

"Right, because it kind of seems like we are."

But they've had this conversation before. It always ends the same way. They keep talking about it even if it gets them nowhere. It's like the world's most fucked up carousel ride.

"So why can't we?" Rachel asks. It's a question that's been posed many times before. Sometimes she's the one who asks, sometimes it's Quinn who asks. They take turns because they both want the same thing, but they also both know why they can't have it. Distance. Loneliness. Jealousy. Possession. All words that lead you down the path to a messy break-up.

"Let's talk about this later," Quinn says. "I have to go to class."

"All right." As they say their goodbyes, Rachel says, "I love you. I miss you."

When she finally hangs up, Kurt rises from his position on the floor. He goes to Rachel's bookshelf, and pulls off a thick leather bound book. As Rachel looks on in confusion, Kurt quickly flips to the desired page. When he finds what he's looking for, he slams the open book down on the bed before Rachel.

"Break. Up." His finger points to those exact words in the dictionary. "Definition: a) To cease to exist as a unified whole; b) to end a romance."

"All right, I get it," Rachel mutters. She reaches for the dictionary to close it, but Kurt pulls it out of her reach.

"No. I'm making a photocopy and tacking it on to your wall," he tells her sternly. "Then maybe you'll finally learn what it means."

And that's exactly what he does. For the rest of the semester, Rachel has a photocopied page out of Merriam-Webster on her wall, with the definition of break up highlighted in bright pink.

***

Sometimes Rachel remembers why it's a good idea that she and Quinn aren't together.

It isn't as if she ever forgets Quinn, but there are times when Quinn's constant presence in her mind diminishes. Like right now, when it's Friday night and she's at a party with her Julliard friends and there's a very attractive guy named Derrick leaning in close to her and asking for her thoughts on the low-budget but controversial nude modern dance staging of As You Like It that's going on in the Village.

Because she's not with Quinn, she doesn't feel guilty about letting Derrick brush his hand against the small of her back. She doesn't feel like she's cheating when she flirts back. And it honestly feels kind of good when Derrick leans in to kiss her.

She spends the night making out with him, then they say goodbye, and she doesn't see him again. It's fun. It's easy. And the next day she still gets to talk to Quinn without feeling like she did something wrong.

***

For her spring break, Rachel flies out to Chicago to visit Quinn.

Kurt shakes his head when he finds out.

"I know," Rachel says preemptively.

"I don't think you do," he answers gently. "Rachel, your heart won't heal right if you keep tearing out the sutures."

"I understand that, but-" She pauses as something clicks for her. "Wait, you stole that from a song."

"Fine, so I did." Kurt's been seeing a boy he met in class, the kind who wears thick-rimmed glasses he doesn't need and has a sweater vest for any occasion. Lately, Kurt's taken to dropping lines from songs that his man likes. Rachel mocks him for this. She considers it payback.

"Mr. Hummel, I do believe that you are what mental health professionals refer to as - in its technical term - completely and thoroughly whipped."

"Pot. Kettle. Black," Kurt shoots back. "Anyway, what I said stands. You're never going to get over her if you keep running to her every chance you get."

"Maybe I don't want to get over her."

Kurt smiles, half in amusement, half in sympathy.

"I'm praying for you," he says. "Both of you."

On the flight to Chicago, Rachel thinks a lot about what Kurt said. He has a point. This relationship isn't exactly healthy, and Rachel's not quite sure how long they can toe the line between friends and lovers before something breaks. She wonders if it wouldn't be easier to do the hard thing now and set clear boundaries once and for all.

But once she steps off the plane and sees Quinn waiting for her at the end of the hallway, she forgets everything Kurt said. His words stay forgotten for the entire week she's in Chicago - or, more accurately, for the entire week she's in Quinn's bed. She only remembers when she's back at the airport, saying goodbye again.

"I don't want you to go," Quinn says quietly. Her eyes are red from crying for the past half an hour. Rachel's not looking any better in that department. "I feel like we're always saying goodbye."

Rachel reaches out to tuck a strand of blonde hair behind her not-girlfriend's ear.

"Perhaps we should accentuate the positives," Rachel says. "If we're always saying goodbye, that means we're always saying hello."

***

Summertime. All the glee kids are back in Lima, except for Sam, who's staying in D.C. for an internship.

Rachel busies herself with activities at the Lima Community Theater, but she spends most of her days hanging out at the pool where Quinn's taken on a summer job. Rachel always wear oversized sunglasses and a wide-brimmed floppy hat because she doesn't want to scare the children with her constant (no, really, constant) ogling of the hot blonde lifeguard.

They always leave together, hand-in-hand. Sometimes they meet up with the other glee club kids, sometimes with Rachel's fathers, even a few times with Quinn's mom, but their evenings always end the same way: in each other's arms. They never label what they are. Talking about it just seems like wasted time.

For three glorious months, everything is perfect.

But like they say, all good things must come to an end, and pretty soon they're back on their respective flights back to school.

***

"I could transfer," comes Quinn's voice over the phone line. Once again, she's half a country away.

"You need to keep your scholarship," Rachel points out.

"Maybe I could get another one."

"Maybe," Rachel says, although her voice is filled with doubt. "Or I could transfer."

"Don't be stupid," Quinn snaps. Wildly in love with Rachel or not, Quinn hasn't lose her bark. Rachel takes it in stride. "You can't leave Julliard. It's Julliard."

"Then what do we do?" The question, so tinted with desperation, almost sounds like a plea.

"The same thing we always do," Quinn replies bitterly. "We deal with it."

***

Rachel frequently dreams of tornadoes.

A strong gust of wind, the strongest the world's ever seen, blows into New York City, deftly avoiding buildings and people, making a beeline straight for her. It sweeps her up. She goes willingly. It's warm and breezy in the eye of the tornado. She rests on a plush cloud. Sometimes there are servants who feed her grapes. The tornado carries her away, far away, and sets her down in the middle of an open field.

When Rachel rises to her feet, she sees Quinn standing on the other end of the field, smiling and waiting. They start running towards one another. Sometimes it's in slow-motion. Sometimes they waltz across the field. Sometimes they ride on unicorns who shoot gold stars out of their tails. The method doesn't matter, the end result is the same: they meet in the middle. Together at last, clinging on tightly, both girls feverishly muttering vows of love and eternal devotion.

This is where Rachel always wakes up. This night, she wakes up to music pouring into her ears from a playlist on her iPod that Kurt made her last year. He had jokingly-but-not-really titled it "WOMAN, GET OVER IT".

I wish the world was flat like the old days. Then I could travel just by folding a map. No more airplanes, or speed trains, or freeways. There'd be no distance that could hold us back.

Rachel shuts off the music and rolls on to her side. When she closes her eyes, she prays that the dream will pick up where it left off.

It never does.

***

Tina visits New York in October. Rachel meets her and Kurt at a cafe on the Lower East Side. It's actually the first time she's seen Kurt since school started. They're both busier this year, and since they've both settled into their own niche, they don't seek each other out like they did in their freshman year. Still, when Tina e-mails them, they're both quick to set aside their own plans to meet her.

The e-mail was only two lines. It read, Artie and I broke up. Can I visit this weekend?

It's a cold, rainy Saturday morning when they meet. The weather suits Tina's mood.

"I just don't understand," Tina whispers. "I can't understand why it didn't work."

"What happened?" Kurt asks.

"I don't know. I guess being apart took its toll. It just sort of happened. We started to have less to talk about. He was always going on about some engineering thing that I didn't get, and I felt like he wasn't listening when I was trying to tell him about my classes." Tina paused to wipe her eyes with the crumpled tissue in her hands. "Then we started arguing about stupid things. I'd get upset that he went to a party instead of calling me like he said he would. He'd get jealous because I'm friends with this guy from my dorm. Just really stupid things, and I know that they were stupid, but it's like once we started fighting, we couldn't stop."

"You two seemed all right over the summer," Rachel says.

"We were. When we're together, none of that seemed to matter. But then we got back to school, and..." Tina shrugged helplessly. "The fighting started again. Finally, I said, 'If we're going to do this all the time, maybe we just shouldn't be together.' And he said, 'Fine.' That's it. That's all he said. Fine."

"Well, you were both very angry. In the heat of the moment, perhaps you both said things that you didn't mean," Rachel tells her. "If you still want to be with him-"

"I don't know. I really don't know." Tina starts tearing at the tissue, rending it into little pieces on the tabletop. "I just don't know how this happened. We've been together for four years. We were going to get married after college. It was- we were supposed to make it. Everyone said that it would be hard, but we thought that we'd beat the odds, you know? Because it's me and Artie and we were so right for each other and-"

She gets too choked up to continue, and her sentence breaks off into a pathetic whimper. Kurt pushes a glass of water towards her, which Tina gratefully accepts and swigs with a large gulp. She takes a deep breath and tries again.

"We shouldn't have bothered. We should have just done what you and Quinn did," she says to Rachel. "It was stupid to try."

"It's not stupid," Rachel replies firmly. "It's noble. You fought for what you believed in."

Tina scoffs, the short noise packed with derision.

"And what good did that do in the end?"

Rachel could only shrug helplessly.

Tina turns her head to stare out the window, past the rain-streaked panes at the dull, gray sky.

"I just don't understand," she mutters numbly.

***

By Thanksgiving, everyone knows that Artie and Tina's relationship is over, and that the break-up wasn't particularly amicable. Everyone, that is, except for Finn, because he shows up at Santana's house with Artie in tow without telling him that Tina was going to be there.

It's an awkward, awkward evening.

Artie and Tina won't speak to each other, won't look at each other - won't even standing near each other. They take up opposite corners of the living room, leaving the rest of the ex-glee club members to flow from one end to the other all night long. Mike bails out of the party early. Santana repeatedly scolds Finn for his stupidity.

"Well, what are we supposed to do anyway?" Finn asks sourly after his eighth reprimand. "We can't just cut Artie out."

"We could have came up with an arrangement!" Santana hisses at him. "Anything's better than this!"

"Seriously," Puck nods in agreement. "This is a buzzkill. This is like the suckiest party ever."

While everyone bickers amongst themselves, Rachel and Quinn exchange nervous, guilty glances. They usually end up holding hands at these things, but they keep a polite distance this evening.

When the party comes to a slow, painful end, Quinn drives Rachel home. Keeping her eyes glued to the road, Quinn laughs nervously.

"So that was..."

"Yeah," Rachel nods.

"I'm glad that didn't happen to us."

"Me too."

"At least we get to stay friends."

"Yes, this is much more preferable," Rachel agrees.

But neither can shake off the gloom. And when Quinn drops Rachel off at her house, it's the first time that she doesn't follow her inside.

***

They don't talk about being together anymore.

When they go back to school, Rachel and Quinn start talking on the phone every other day instead of every day. Sometimes once every two or three days.

They don't mean for it to happen, but it just does.

***

Winter break.

Artie and Tina have split custody over their friends. They switch off on attending group activities, but sometimes they overlap. Rachel and Quinn walk on eggshells around each other, keeping hyper-respectful boundaries. Puck and Mike are both MIA - Mike claiming family obligations, and Puck insisting that he has band practice, but the truth is that they've both decided to steer clear of the group in order to avoid the drama altogether. The group feels a little smaller and a lot more chaotic, but it's the holidays, so they all try to make the best of it.

They have the holiday party at Finn's house with Artie and Tina both in attendance. Things are a little tense at first, but then Santana breaks out the liquor and Kurt and Mercedes stage an impromptu performance of "Whoomp! (There It Is)" and things lighten considerably.

In the wake of the demise of Artie and Tina's relationship, Rachel and Quinn have both adapted cooler attitudes towards their relationship or friendship or whatever the hell it is. The passion hasn't lessened, but the fear has increased. They're now witnessing first hand what an ugly break-up can do. More than ever, they're terrified by the prospect of having a failed relationship and losing the other person entirely.

They ring in the new year together because it's more or less tradition at this point. They give each other a quick peck on the lips when the clock hits midnight, but no more than that.

"I wish you a happy new year, Quinn," Rachel says, oddly formal, even for her.

"You too, Rach," Quinn responds, not quite meeting the brunette's eyes. They need to stay on friendly, uncomplicated terms. Their fragile circle of friends can't handle another shake-up. When you date amongst friends, a bad break-up affects everybody.

***

For the second half of their sophomore year, Quinn and Rachel's telephone conversations gradually taper off to once a week, then once every other week.

"What classes are you taking next semester?" Rachel asks. She already knows the answer because she's asked before - but they're running out of topics to talk about.

Quinn tells her, then asks,

"So how are your dads?"

They tip-toe around one another like this, careful about the words they choose, careful not to cross their self-imposed lines, careful to avoid familiarity and intimacy. Things are shifting between them, they both know it but neither wants to face it. Whereas Artie and Tina burned out in a brilliant blaze, their friendship is dying by a slow suffocation.

"How do you do it?" Quinn asks Santana during spring break, when they're back in Lima. Artie and Tina have both stopped coming out with everyone, each feeling that his/her presence was upsetting the group dynamic. They're at Kurt's house, and Rachel's chatting with Finn in a valiant effort to stay away from Quinn. Brittany and Santana are curled up together on the couch, just like they did in high school, as if nothing's ever changed between them.

"How did the two of you stay like that?" Quinn stares at their intertwined hands, feeling jealous and pained.

"Stay like what?" Santana asks sharply.

"Like... you know, Brittany and Santana?"

"Well, that's easy. My name is Brittany," the blonde explains patiently. "Her name is Santana. Your name stays the same if you don't, like, change it or anything. Do you want to change your name, Quinn? I've always thought that you looked like an Oscar."

"She means how we've managed to keep our friendship intact," Santana explains. "And the answer is I don't know. We're just not all melodramatic about everything like the rest of you."

"Santana, please. You're like the second most dramatic person I know," Quinn replies. It goes unsaid that the first is Rachel Berry.

"Not about this," Santana answers with a light shrug. "Brit and I, we don't fuss about all these things. We do what we do when we're together, and we do what we do when we're not. Easy come, easy go."

"But don't you miss each other when you're not together?"

"Sure, but you get used to it," says Santana.

"And I have other people around to take care of me until I'm with Santana again," Brittany offers happily.

Quinn stares at them in disbelief. Brittany and Santana used to walk around McKinley hallways with their pinkies intertwined. They were practically joined at the hips. They went out on dates with the same guy together. There's no way that these two has the most well-adjusted relationship in the group.

"You and Berry can't do what we do," Santana tells her.

"Why not?"

"Because she's friggin' nuts and you suck?" Off Quinn's irritated expression, Santana reigns in the bite. "Look, you guys aren't like us. You don't know how to just like, let things be. It's the same thing with Tina and Artie. You're all trying too hard."

"So, what, we shouldn't be trying at all?"

"Works for us," Santana answers with a careless shrug. "Brit and I do okay without the constant need to define everything and analyze our relationship to death."

"That's not us," Quinn states definitively. Santana nods with a mixture of satisfaction, understanding and a hint of sympathy.

"And that's why you're both doomed."

***

Rachel still dreams of tornadoes.

But now, it no longer comes with deft precision, carefully avoiding buildings and people. It demolishes everything in its path. It destroys buildings, rips up the roads, throws the people aside like rags. It obliterates everything. Within seconds, the city is in ruins. The tornado still sweeps Rachel up and takes her away, but the ride is neither gentle nor pleasant.

Then she's standing in the middle of the field, with Quinn on the other side. They start running towards each other. They run and they run and they run. They never get anywhere.

The tornado comes back. It blazes across the field, uprooting every blade, turning over the earth, splitting the ground open and swallowing both girls into a dark, bottomless pit.

It should be a nightmare, but everytime she wakes up from this dream, Rachel is content. At least they don't have to run anymore.

***

Once again, Quinn gets a job as a lifeguard for the summer. Rachel comes by from time to time, but she isn't camped out there everyday like she was last summer.

Quinn tells her that it's better this way. Normal. Healthy. Friends-like.

They avoid hanging out together by themselves. They always invite someone else out with them - Finn, Santana, Brittany or Mercedes. Kurt's chosen to remain in New York for the summer, ostensibly for summer classes, but really, he just wants to be with his boyfriend.

Things are tolerable like this, but truth be told, both girls secretly find it a relief when summer ends and they all leave Lima to start their junior year.

***

"I met someone."

"...oh."

"Her name's Jen. She's a costume designer."

"Oh."

"She worked on Pippin. Do you remember? It's that musical I was in. That's how we met."

"Oh."

"You need to say something else besides 'oh', Quinn."

"Yay?"

"Are you upset?"

"I'm happy for you."

"Really?"

A long pause.

"No," Quinn replies honestly. "Not really."

***

Rachel brings her new girlfriend home for Christmas.

Quinn's half-expecting a carbon copy of herself, but Jen has curly red hair, brown eyes, a nose ring and tattoos up and down her arms. Truth be told, Quinn's more than a little disappointed. It would have been easier if Rachel had chosen a Quinn clone.

Quinn is so friendly that it's creepy.

"Do you want another drink, Jen?"

"Oh, you don't want to sit by the door. Here, take my seat."

"I love that sweater."

"You knitted that yourself? That's so amazing!"

She wants to make Jen feel welcome. She wants Rachel to know that she's perfectly okay with this. She wants everyone to know that she's over Rachel Berry for good.

As usual, Quinn's invited to the Berrys' New Year's Eve party. She knows that it's a horrible idea. The very last thing she needs is to watch Rachel kiss her new girlfriend at the stroke of midnight - the kiss that's been reserved for her ever since their junior year of high school.

She goes anyway. She's a glutton for punishment that way. And anyway, Mercedes decided to go to Cancun with her friends from college, Kurt's staying in New York again, Finn's spend the night with his new girlfriend - Cathy, from his sociology class - and Quinn doesn't relish the thought of spending the night watching Brittany and Santana make out. So she goes to Rachel's.

But when she gets there, Jen's nowhere to be found.

"She's spending New Year's with her family in Pennsylvania," Rachel explains. She flashes a bright smile. "Looks like it's just you and me."

At thirty seconds to midnight, Rachel takes Quinn's hand, just like she's always done.

When the crowd starts counting down, Rachel starts leaning in. Quinn doesn't pull back.

"Happy New Year!"

Their lips touch. One second. Two. Three. Four. Five. And on and on. Rachel's lips part slightly, and maybe it's habit or maybe Quinn's tired of fighting temptation, but her tongue slips into Rachel's mouth. Rachel whimpers lightly and presses her hand to the side of Quinn's face, bringing her closer. Quinn circles her arms around the brunette's waist, and they're flush against each other, pressed up against the wall, not caring what they're surrounded by witnesses - including her dads, if they were watching.

They pull apart after a minute, both flushed and panting. When Quinn looks in Rachel's eyes, she sees guilt. Without a word, Quinn turns around and leaves.

When the second semester starts up, Quinn quietly files an application with her school to spend her senior year abroad.

***

"You didn't know?"

"No, I didn't know, you idiot!" Rachel spits out. The phone pressed firmly against her ear, she's pacing around her tiny New York City apartment frantically like a hopped-up gerbil. "Can you not detect my emotional distress? Why would I discussing this with you if I knew?"

"Wow," Finn says after a moment's pause. "Quinn's really rubbed off on you."

"I'm sorry," Rachel says contritely. "It's just... I can't believe she didn't tell me! The nerve of that woman!"

"Maybe she didn't want to upset you."

"Upset? Why would I be upset?!" Rachel shrieks into the phone.

"I don't know," Finn replies quickly, eager to contain the explosion. "Maybe you should ask her?"

"I will not! I can't go crawling to her after this - after she kept this big secret from me!"

"I don't think she meant-"

"I can't believe that you're even suggesting it! Finn Hudson, whose side are you on anyway?"

"Um... mine?" Finn responds timidly. He can't pick sides. They're both scary. "Look, Rach, I don't know why she didn't tell you, but the fact is that Quinn's leaving for Paris pretty soon. She's not coming back for a year. Maybe you want to end things on a good note."

"It's not a misunderstanding," Rachel says stubbornly. "She's punishing me. She's punishing me for trying to move on with my life."

"I don't think that's what she's trying to do."

"YES, IT IS!"

"Okay," Finn says meekly. "Yes, it is."

***

In the end, it's Quinn who picks up the phone first.

"I'm not punishing you."

"I assume that you've spoken to Finn?" Rachel asks curtly.

"You almost made him cry. That big baby."

"I should have guessed that he would betray my confidence," Rachel mutters.

"I'm sorry that I didn't tell you earlier."

"Why didn't you?"

There's a long silence.

"I don't know, Rach. I don't know."

"Are you going away because of me?"

"Don't flatter yourself, you egomaniac," Quinn says, lightheartedly revoking back to her tried-and-true insult-Rachel-Berry-mode. "You know that I've always wanted to go to Paris. This is an amazing opportunity-"

"Quinn," Rachel interrupts quietly.

Quinn struggles between truth and lie. In the end, she opts for the former, if only because she has very little to lose at this point.

"Yes," she says finally. "But only in part."

Rachel snorts. "So this is how it's going to be? I get a girlfriend, and you feel the need to move out of the country?"

"Don't you think that we both need a little space?"

"No," Rachel replies sharply. "I think the 800 mile distance is enough space. I think not talking on the phone for two weeks at a time is enough space. How much space do you think we need?"

"Rach, I'm not punishing you for trying to move on with your life. I'm trying to help you move on. You know what happens when we get too close. It hurts too bad because we can't be as close as we really want to be. So I think... I think distance is better for us." When Rachel doesn't say anything for several minutes, Quinn pleads, "Please don't be upset."

"You're moving to Paris to get away from me even though we already live on opposite sides of the country," Rachel says. "I don't see how it would be possible for me to not be upset."

"Chicago and New York aren't on opposite sides of the country."

"You find the most inappropriate moments to nitpick."

"Look, this really is a great opportunity for me. I mean, it's Paris. And it won't be that bad. If you want, we'll talk all the time. We can Skype, e-mail, Facebook... it won't be that different."

Another long pause. Quinn only knows that Rachel's still there because she can hear her breathing.

"When do you leave?" Rachel asks finally.

"At the end of the semester."

"We don't even have the summer together?" Rachel doesn't bother to disguise the hurt.

"My school found me a part-time internship, but it's only available to me if I start right away." Quinn adds, "I didn't plan it that way. I swear. I am not trying to get away from you."

Quinn can't see the expression on Rachel's face 800 miles away, but she can imagine the pain fairly well.

"And... we'll talk all the time? Do you promise?"

"Of course," Quinn assures her. "We'll talk all the time."

***

It's been three months since they last spoke.

Rachel can check Quinn's never-updated Facebook fifteen times a day, but she can't seem to bring herself to leave a message or dial a number.

She's on her laptop going though old pictures of Quinn when Jen walks into the apartment and drops her keys onto the coffee table.

"Rach, I've been thinking."

"Hmm?"

"This isn't working out."

Predictably, that's an attention-grabber. Rachel looks up from her laptop.

"What isn't?"

"Us. You and me." Rachel's staring at her blankly, so Jen clarifies in case Rachel needed any help: "I'm breaking up with you."

"Hence the keys."

"Yes."

"Ah."

With her hands on her lips, Jen stands in the middle of the living room, waiting for a response from her now ex-girlfriend.

"Well?" she finally demands when one doesn't come. "Don't you have anything to say?"

"Well, naturally, I would urge you to reconsider," Rachel says serenely.

Jen stares at her incredulously. "Is that it?"

"I... strongly urge you to reconsider?"

The muscles in Jen's jaw clench tightly.

"You don't love me. All you care about is her."

The word "who" is almost on Rachel's lips, but she swallows it when she sees Jen's withering glare. It would be unkind to insult her intelligence anyway.

"I'm sorry that you feel that way."

"We've been together for over a year, Rachel! Quinn goes to Paris and you go on a two-month manic-depressive bender. I break up with you, and you're monosyllabic - you of all people!" Jen laughs bitterly. "You know what, Rachel Berry? You're a goddamn bitch."

"I- I'm... I'm sorry." The guilt seems to have deprived Rachel of her words. "But you must believe that I did love you. Do, as a matter of fact."

Jen closes her eyes and take a deep breath.

"I love you too." When she opens her eyes, there is no affection in them. "But I'm not a fucking consolation prize."

***

Finn is entirely unsympathetic.

"She was such a nice girl," he sighs.

"Would you like her contact information?" Rachel offers dryly.

"No, thanks. I think two lesbian ex-girlfriends are all my ego can handle."

"Three if you count Santana."

Finn half-groans, half-chuckles, the sound of his rumbling laugh a comfort to her, even over the phone.

"You're never going to let me forget that, are you?"

"Certainly not. As I told you at the time, your betrayal was unforgivable." For some reason, it feels good that they can joke about this now.

"Yeah, well, it was totally worth it."

"Finn!" she whines with fake indignation.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. You were the greatest thing that ever happened to me, babe. Hooking up with Santana-"

"-and then deceiving me about it, leading me to lose my virginity to you under false pretenses and thus bringing about the demise of our relationship-"

"Right, all that stuff. Worst mistake I've ever made in my life. I lie awake thinking about it every night."

"And then you cry yourself to sleep, weeping over the loss of your true love, the most wonderful, talented and gorgeous woman you've ever known."

"Yes, Rachel," Finn replies drolly. "Like a baby. Cathy really hates the noise. It keeps her up."

"That's better."

"But I just wanna point out that if I didn't do all that stuff, you never would have broken up with me, Quinn wouldn't have comforted you, you guys would never be friends and you never would have gotten together."

Rachel considers this.

"You have a point," she replies. "And so I would just like to say: I hate you, Finn Hudson."

"No, you don't."

"You ruined my life."

"No, I didn't."

"Fine," Rachel concedes grudgingly. "You're right."

"It'll be okay, Rach."

There's a brief silence.

"Do you think I'll ever get over her?" she finally asks quietly.

"Well, Jen's a really nice girl but-"

"No, not her," Rachel cuts him off. It might hurt a little right know, but Rachel knows that she'll get over it eventually. Probably soon, if she's being completely honest.

"Oh," Finn says quietly. "Well... she's a hard girl to get over. I know that it was hard for me, and we weren't even together that long. Besides, I kind of found someone amazing."

"So in order to forget Quinn Fabray, I'll have to find someone who is as amazing, special and unique as me?"

"And humble," he mutters. "But basically, yeah."

"So what you're saying is that I'm tragically doomed."

"Well..." Finn says. "Basically, yeah."

***

Rachel doesn't make it home for Thanksgiving that year - her dads fly out to see her - but she goes back for winter break and a few days after Christmas, meets her old high school friends for coffee. She desperately needs a distraction. She's just realized that this will be the first New Year's Eve in many years that she doesn't spend by Quinn's side. Seeing her friends will be good for her.

As it turns out, it's just Finn.

"What happened to everyone?" she asks, stunned, when she realizes. He looks at her with more perplexity than usual.

"What do you mean?"

Everyone has splintered off and broken away over the years. With each return, they would lose someone to the outside world. They'd all grown up and grown apart. It's just a shock to realize it.

"Where's Brittany and Santana?"

"Oh. I guess you hadn't heard. Brittany got married."

"WHAT?!" Rachel's shrill and loud exclamation draws the attention of several people in the diner.

"Yeah, she brought home this guy over Thanksgiving and said that they eloped. He likes, owns a bakery and brought us all these awesome cupcakes. They went to Cabo for a late honeymoon."

"ELOPED?!" Again, shrill and loud. Finn whispers an apology to the other customers. "Why didn't you tell me?!"

"It was on Facebook!"

"I don't have Facebook anymore!" she snaps. Her compulsion of refreshing Quinn's profile was getting out of hand. "What happened? I thought that Santana and she had an understanding!"

"Well, they did, kinda. But it was that 'we're together when we're together, and apart when we're apart' kind of thing. You know how they were. They were never like exclusive or anything." Finn shrugs. "I mean, it was only a matter of time before one of them met someone."

"I suppose that I had always assumed that Santana would eventually declare her obvious affections," Rachel says mournfully. "Then the two of them would move to New York City, and they would go out to couples' brunch with Quinn and I. We were going to swap tips on sexual techniques and adoption agencies."

"O....kay," Finn says slowly, unsure of how he's supposed to respond to that. "I don't think that's going to happen."

"Well, then, where's Santana?"

"Columbus. She doesn't come home anymore," Finn replies. "I mean, I guess Brittany was the only reason she ever did."

"How did she take it?"

"I'm not sure. She seemed all right, but..." Finn's eyebrows crinkled with worry. "I mean, I tried to talk to her about it, but you know how she is. And she doesn't return any of my phone calls."

Rachel lets out a long, sad exhale, her entire body sinking into the cushion of the booth as she does.

"I can't believe this," she says miserably. "Everything's falling apart, Finn."

"Oh, I don't think it's that bad."

"Yes, it is! Nobody ever comes home anymore! You're the only one left!"

A small, sad smile slowly spreads across his face.

"Yeah. I know."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay. I'm okay with it. I mean, I always kinda figured that this was the way it was gonna be," he says wistfully. "People leave, you know? And there's always that one guy left in his hometown who doesn't get out."

"Finn-"

"Look, Rach, I'm fine with it. I don't know if I'll always be here, but for now, it's okay. I like my classes. I like being close to my mom." His sad smile morphs into a genuine face-splitting grin. "And Cathy makes me really, really happy."

"But our friends..."

"People drift apart, Rachel," he says softly. "Sometimes they come back together. Sometimes they don't. It's just what happens."

"But..." But she doesn't know what to say. The absurdity of it strikes her. Her, Rachel Berry, speechless, sitting across from Finn Hudson, full of philosophical whimsy. She has a flash of them years past: her chattering excitedly to him as he held her hand and tried hard not to stare at her boobs. She looks at how far they've come. She can't help but smile.

"What?"

"Nothing," she shakes her head. "I'm just glad to be here with you."

***

Rachel dreams of tornadoes that night.

But it doesn't come for her. It's moving away from her, and she chases it, feverishly and relentlessly, swimming across rivers and hiking over mountains until her arms are sore and her legs throb with pain. Sometimes she gets close, but it always pulls just out of reach. Which is probably just as well, since she's pretty sure that if she touches it, it'll just swallow her up. It's destructive. She wants it anyway. So she chases. Faster, closer. Closer, faster. And oh- she's so, so close. Running fast, she stretches her arm out, fingers straining for the edge.

She touches it, feels the cut of the wind against her hand.

It doesn't hurt. It's warm and gentle, like a breeze. She realizes that the tornado's stopped moving, and so has she. She looks around to see where she is. And she sees it: the tall, imposing monument, the iron lattice of the Eiffel Tower.

When she wakes, she has a wide smile on her face.

Metaphors are important, you know.

***

She has a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach the entire plane ride, and it's not just because she's spent an outrageous amount of money on a last-minute plane ticket.

***

She has the address even though she's never used it. Finding it isn't difficult either.

The difficult part is waiting outside in the cold, watching the minutes tick by. Minutes which turn into hours. It's December 31, 11:10 p.m. and she's been waiting outside of Quinn Fabray's Paris apartment for five hours. She's worried that Quinn's already out at a New Year's Eve party. Possibly with her new friends. Possibly with her new significant other. The thought makes Rachel's stomach turn more than it did on the plane.

The second hand on her watch ticks to the twelve, and it's 11:11. So Rachel closes her eyes and makes a wish. She wishes for it harder than she's ever wished for anything.

"Rachel?!"

Rachel's eyes snap open, and so does her jaw, a little. That has never worked before. But sure enough, there she is: blonde, beautiful, and utterly shocked. Rachel slowly rises from her seated position on the stoop - slowly, because she's been in the same position for a while now and her legs are really cramped.

"Hello, Quinn."

"Wha- how- why- wh-" Quinn sputters. "Rachel?!"

"Yes."

Quinn just gapes.

"Rachel."

"I think that we've sufficiently established my name."

"You're... here."

"And my presence," Rachel adds. "I believe that's firmly established as well."

"What are you doing here?"

"I've come to declare my love and finally put an end to the tumultuous aspect of our relationship," Rachel informs her calmly.

Quinn shuts her eyes tight, like she feels a headache coming on, and sighs deeply.

"Rachel, we haven't spoken in months."

"I am aware. I concede that this was rash and perhaps I should have called first. I can only hope that you have not taken up any romantic ventures in the meantime." Rachel pauses, then adds, "However, if you had - although I do not consider myself a 'homewrecker' - given our deep, endless passion and my willingness to temporarily relinquish my life in New York and move to Paris for you, I believe that you should consider ending whatever other affairs you have and be with me. I say this because I am confident that you do not and could not love any other like you love me. And vice versa, of course."

"Relinquish- move to- what?!"

"Perhaps I should start at the beginning."

"Yes," Quinn hisses. "Perhaps you should."

"Brittany got married."

"Yeah, I heard, that was ridic-"

"Quinn, please let me finish."

Quinn arches an eyebrow, as if saying 'Berry, this really isn't how you declare your love and win someone over.'

"I don't want to wait around until you elope with some random bakery guy with awesome cupcakes. I'm tired of being afraid, Quinn. We were too afraid to maintain a long-distance relationship because we thought that it'd ruin everything. But as you astutely pointed out, we haven't spoken in months. I've been largely unhappy for these past four years, Quinn, and I think you have been too. And you know what? It's just really..." Rachel pauses, trying to search for the perfect adjective in her arsenal of words. "Well, it's just really fucking stupid."

"So let me get this straight," Quinn says slowly. "You thought that maintaining a relationship while I was living in Chicago was hard, but now that I live in Paris, we should give it a try?"

"Hence my proposal to move to Paris," Rachel says promptly. "I have considered it at length. I can hold off completing my last semester. In light of this sacrifice, I hope that we can agree upon a compromise and you agree to move to New York after your semester's over. However, if you wish to stay in Paris, I can look into the possibility of finishing my education here. In the meanwhile, I can seek out any available employment opportunities, hopefully on the stage where I can utilize my talents, but I'm not above waitressing or cleaning apartments or whatever it is I have to do. All that matters is that I am with you."

Quinn just stares at her.

"Do you hear yourself? This is... it's completely impractical! Illogical! It's crazy!"

"It's not as impractical, as illogical or as crazy as spending another minute of my life without you," Rachel answers quietly.

"Rachel, I-" Quinn shakes her head. "I'm sorry. I don't know what to say. This is... it's a lot to take in."

"I do. You say you love me and you take me into your arms."

Quinn huffs. "What makes you think I'm going to do that?"

"I flew to Paris on New Year's Eve to reclaim my lost-long love. As my reward, you have to declare your undying love," Rachel states as a matter of fact, like she's observing the color of the sky. "In fact, what I did was so romantic that I'm fairly certain that intimate favors should also be rewarded."

"Oh, Rachel..." The blonde shakes her head gently, heartbreaking pity on her face. "I'm... sorry. But I just... I can't. I can't do this with you."

It's Rachel's turn to stare.

"What?"

"I don't think this will work," Quinn says quietly. "Go home, Rachel."

And with that, Quinn walks past Rachel to her apartment door. Rachel doesn't speak, doesn't move, doesn't try to stop the blonde. Quinn unlocks the door and slips inside. She closes the door behind her, leaving Rachel out on the cold Parisian sidewalk.

***

"That was evil."

Quinn chuckles lightly, her hot breath tickling the skin of the naked woman beneath her.

"I know."

"That was really evil."

"Hey, I said I was sorry."

"Really, really evil."

"What was I supposed to say?" Quinn lifts her head slightly, pressing a kiss to Rachel's neck. "You were all 'as my reward, you have to declare your undying love.' I had to."

Of course, 1.3 seconds after Quinn closed the door, she had torn it open again and snapped up Rachel in her arms. Her tongue was in Rachel's mouth before Rachel could even process any heartbreak. But it's the principle of the thing.

"So, so evil," Rachel repeats huffily. "I am angry with you, Quinn Fabray."

"But not angry enough to refuse three orgasms," Quinn says smugly.

"It's part of your punishment. Expect more of it."

"I look forward to it." She props herself up on her elbow and leans over Rachel, body tightly pressed up against body. She looks down at her, and sighs happily. "I love that look. You're so cute when you pout."

"I do not pout," Rachel replies, pouting. Quinn grins, then dips her head down, capturing her girlfriend's not-pouty mouth in a searing kiss. When they break, Rachel's pout is a matching grin. Quinn lies back down, snuggling close as she rests her head in the crook of Rachel's neck. She sees the clock on her nightstand, reading 12:09.

"Looks like we missed New Year's."

"So we did," Rachel answers lazily. She kisses Quinn's forehead. "Happy New Year, baby."

"Happy New Year."

They hold each other quietly, ignoring the revelries of the outside world.

And happy is exactly right.