Fic: A Secret Relationship Unlike Any Other 4/4
A/N: Alright, this is technically the final part, once again lacking the humor of the previous piece. Thanks for all the response to this fic.
I might have an epilogue coming, but no guarantees.
Chap 1, Chap 2, Chap 3
Chapter 4: It’s Not Him, It’s You
They may or may not have just sat there, staring at each other, for the next ten minutes.
Rachel, completely ignorant of certain social norms, was just staring at her intensely, apparently waiting for her to begin the conversation. Quinn will admit that, as weird as it is to have someone stare - possibly without blinking - for ten minutes, it was more than a little bit thrilling. Finn, after all, would have lost patience nine and a half minutes ago and either blurted out something indescribably stupid or started daydreaming.
Quinn can’t speak, though. Her mouth is dry, no matter how many sips of hot chocolate she takes, and her tongue feels like it’s going to fall out of her mouth. Plus, her throat must be closing up or something, because she can barely swallow.
It’s not nerves, by the way. Quinn Fabray does not get nervous, especially not for Rachel Berry.
Still, Quinn admitted some very stupid things not too long ago, things they now had to talk about, and Quinn was not ready. Not at all.
Part of her wants to talk about it, this weird situation. At least then, she’d be the one in control of the conversation, directing the flow and holding the power, but she can’t bring herself to speak.
This talk, whether they are clearing the air or figuring out their stories, is going to lead nowhere fast, because Quinn already knows what happened and how this is going to play out.
Rachel wanted to help Finn, make Finn happy, spend time with Finn, and Finn’s Finneptitude meant that helping Finn made Quinn very happy. Embarrassingly happy.
But now, helping Finn didn’t equal making Quinn happy, so that would stop. Instead, Rachel would leap back into Finn’s ape-like arms like some sappy, stereotypical rom-com, and Quinn would be left in the cold, loveless and all alone.
Rachel was a nice person, insanely and stupidly nice, which was why the other girl was treating her so well right now. Why she had always treated Quinn well, even when Quinn was being a vindictive harpy (ignoring the stupid things Rachel’s supposed love for Finn had her doing). But, after getting the clichéd, if slightly altered, “it’s not you; it’s me” speech, Quinn would be gone.
Left alone.
Out of sight and out of mind.
Her breath caught in her throat as the traitorous thoughts swam through her head, and, suddenly, she couldn’t take it anymore. Not one more moment.
Something must have shifted in her eyes, some tell-tale sign that her fight-or-flight instincts had finally activated, because Rachel started moving towards her, a sudden flutter of energy, a split-second before Quinn jumped up to run.
“I have to go- get out of here. I didn’t think- I don’t-” Quinn spoke hurriedly in hushed tones, struggling slightly in Rachel’s grasp. The other girl had reached forward, suddenly and impossibly close, to lightly grasp her arm. She hadn’t grabbed anything else, and her grip was soft and comforting more than an actual restraint, so Quinn could have very easily shifted away and escaped from the confusion and hurt that was sure to follow.
But it was the light grasp, soothing and nonthreatening, that kept her there. If she had grabbed tightly and tried to hold her back, Quinn would have only struggled more, panicking at the containment. The soft grip and, more than anything else, the eyes full of promise and care, were much better at keeping her from running.
Rachel really did know how to deal with her.
Quinn swallowed harshly, blinking away at her tearing eyes, as Rachel began speaking.
“It’s okay, Quinn. Really, it is. We don’t need to talk about anything you’re not ready for,” she says, that Rachel Berry intensity focused only on Quinn, causing that familiar shiver. “I understand. I think we should talk, figure out what’s next, apologize, but only when you’re ready. When you’re comfortable.”
Quinn knows she will never be ready, much less comfortable. After what she admitted earlier, impossible to take back, Quinn figures this is just one more thing that needs to be swept under the rug, buried and ignored until it is completely forgotten about.
Rachel knows when it’s best to ease up and when it’s best to push - and if Quinn looks back, she’s seen the signs that Rachel has always known - and Quinn’s anxiety settles as Rachel, full of soft words and gentle touches, eases her into the couch.
Sometimes, Quinn forgets that not everyone is a Fabray and accustomed to dealing with life’s little issues the same way she is. Rachel, at the very least, will never let an issue die so easily.
Quinn knows she’ll have to talk about this eventually, and better in private than in front of a crowd when Rachel loses control of her delicate filter, but Quinn would rather let it fester for a while as she scrambles for excuses.
She’s killer at making up excuses. Seriously. Deception is her middle name.
Mono via gumballs. How could Sam get mad at her saving someone from choking? Or hot tub insemination. Her taco baby. That time she convinced Santana that Camo and Suspenders were in. Or when Fuchsia, the original shoo-in for head cheerleader, was led to believe that the first cheer meeting was taking place at the local McDonalds.
That one was classic. The girl ended up transferring to Jane Adams after Coach Sylvester sent out a search team and found her eating a frosty.
But sitting down, listening to the gibberish comfort words Rachel was spouting, Quinn didn’t have time to put her excellent subterfuge skills to works.
She was just going to have to be honest and hope everything worked out. Her realistic side, the part of her that begged her to cling to Finn and spoke of a future stuck in Lima, told her that, even if Rachel wiped them away, she would still be leaving the house in tears. But if that was happening no matter what, she might as well get it over with.
Rachel’s soft voice, normally so loud and brash, was soothing her, and Quinn really couldn’t help herself as she leaned against the other girl once again.
“Okay,” she choked out, face hidden in Rachel’s shoulder, “Okay, I can- I can do this.”
Rachel quieted, just holding her, and Quinn had to push away the traitorous thoughts sneering that, soon, she wouldn’t have anyone holding her.
Rachel was still just holding her, waiting on her, giving her all the time she needed, but Quinn didn’t want that.
She was done. She already knew she lost…everything, and now she just wanted to get it over with. She appreciated Rachel putting the ball in her court, allowing her to steer the conversation, but Quinn, for once, didn’t want to be in control.
So she decided to reveal her hand.
“You chose the corsage, right?” she asked Rachel quietly. The other girl tensed.
“Yeah.”
“The musical apology after prom?”
“Yeah.”
“Picking me up in the mornings with breakfast? Walking me to class? The Quinn Fabray All-Day Birthday Extravaganza? The personalized ring-tone collection?”
“Yes, okay, yes! All of the above!” Rachel finally shouted, showing a little anger, although, more than anything, she sounded embarrassed and ashamed. “I screwed up. I get it!”
She started to pull away from Quinn, but Quinn, before she even realized what she was doing, tightened her grip on the other girl, not letting her go.
“I just- I didn’t mean for it to get so messed up,” Rachel admitted, a slight crack in her voice. “I just…I know that it’s just a stupid teenage thing, but Prom is important. Maybe not in the grand scheme of things, and maybe not for everyone, but, especially for girls, it’s a chance to feel like a Queen, even if it is only for one night. That’s why I worked so hard to get Mercedes to go. And that’s why I helped Finn.”
Quinn is leaning against Rachel as Rachel speaks softly. She might not have needed the explanation, might have already assumed the worst, but she really is all ears. She knows that most people zone out the second Rachel opens her mouth, but Quinn has always listened.
But only because it’s the best way to find information out about Rachel. To make fun of her. And stuff.
Whatever.
At least, the way Rachel was explaining everything now, it seems like Rachel was initially trying to help Quinn, not Finn, and that’s a little nice. Quinn sighs, as she listens to Rachel continue to explain.
“Finn was being a moron!” Rachel hisses and Quinn perks up. “I mean, it’s not the first time that Finn wasn’t interested in until I started seeing Jesse, okay, so I was used to that. I even sort of expected it because Finn is a little predictable. But he was thinking about bailing on Prom, for no real reason. It was passive aggressive bull! So I tried to help.”
Rachel goes quiet for a moment, obviously thinking something over, although Quinn can’t fathom what must be going through her mind at the moment.
“When you…lost, completely unfairly by the way, and we had the little incident in the bathroom, it made me think. About you, and my actions towards you, and I realized a great deal. I meant what I said, about your beauty and your worth, but I also think it opened my eyes a little.”
Quinn stilled completely. She couldn’t speak because she honestly wanted to hear what Rachel was going to say, but this wasn’t in the script.
“I only met you in the eighth, you just seemed…perfect. You weren’t like me. You were pretty, yes - of course, but more than that. You knew what to say, what to wear, who to talk to, who to ignore. Everybody liked you. I never really had one of those clichéd secret crushes most people get on a popular student, like Kurt’s on Finn. And don’t roll your eyes at me. My feelings for Finn had absolutely nothing to do with him being the golden boy of the school and everything to do with him being a very good male lead.”
Rachel turns her head and looks Quinn right in the eyes.
“If I’d had one on anybody though, a secret crush, it would have been on you. I don’t mean this in a weird way or anything, but I wanted to be your friend so badly…even when all you wanted to do with me was call me names and make snooty remarks. You just seemed, outside of your need to degrade and humiliate me, perfect and amazing.”
Quinn’s really not sure how she’s breathing right now. She’s fairly sure she isn’t. She doesn’t know what to make of this.
“I got over it, of course,” Rachel says loftily, averting her eyes and showing just the right amount of anxiety that makes Quinn wonder. “I mean, what would it say about me, as a person, if I spent my times wanting to be friends with somebody that treated me like something they scraped of their shoe. Finn came along, and he was adequate, though I did get a little too invested. It’s just…he was nice to me, at least compared to everyone else, and I did not want to lose that. But little moments keeping popping up that show your vulnerabilities and Finn’s flaws, and everything’s gotten so confusing!”
Quinn was finally starting to feel some hope. It was a weird hope. She still didn’t know what she wanted.
She wanted things to stay the same, mostly. She liked having the popular quarterback as her boyfriend. Liked the looks of adoration from her peers. She liked it even more when that popular quarterback treated her well, treated her like Rachel Berry would treat her.
What she didn’t like was change. She hated change. Change was perpetually bad for her. In fact, any change that seemed good was really just reverting and going back to the status quo, like when she was allowed to have a home again.
But things had changed. She cannot undo the past, so she has to figure out how to make this work for her.
She can’t have the popular quarterback as her boyfriend. She doesn’t know how she’ll be able to keep the looks of adoration from her classmates.
But she might be able to keep Rachel. Keep her from Finn…keep her for herself. Quinn isn’t really sure what she wants, this is true.
Mostly, she just wants somebody to love her. Sincerely love her. Unconditionally love her. Not for her looks or her popularity or her family or prestige, but just for her.
Just for Lucy Quinn Fabray.
And, for the first time since she was a young girl, she feels hope.
It’s worrisome. Every time she feels a flicker of hope, it is extinguished. Quickly and with extreme prejudice.
So she braces herself. But that stupid, spreading hope, as annoying and persistent as the girl creating it, continues to grow and become stronger, until it prompts her to do something stupid.
“Are you gonna leave me?” It came out hesitant and weak, but it wasn’t supposed to come out at all. Crap.
It was the number one thought going through her head, the only thing she really cared about in this conversation, but she wasn’t supposed to say it out loud.
Rachel, technically, couldn’t even leave her, since they weren’t together. She was dating Finn… had been dating Finn…had been dating a Finn puppet. But not Rachel. Not really. For all she knew, Rachel was completely satisfied with Jesse. Or was going to jump back to Finn. Or whatever, but she wasn’t going to stay with Quinn in any capacity
But she had said it. The stupid, weak words had escaped her mouth and cut off whatever Rachel was going to say.
She’s not sure what she expected as a response, but Rachel’s silence certainly wasn’t it. The thing was, Rachel was usually remarkably good at talking her down and making her feel better, so she had expected something like that.
But Rachel was quiet.
Quinn’s heart was pounding.
“I…” Rachel started, pausing to clear her throat uncomfortably, “I don’t…quite understand what you mean. I could shower you with false platitudes right now, but I don’t- right now is the time for honesty. Right? I don’t want to leave you, I really don’t, but what exactly do you mean.”
Of course. It’s not enough that she showed her vulnerability and weakness to the one girl who really had the power to destroy her (though was the least likely to try, even if she had the most reasons to do so), now she was expected to speak about it. About her feelings and thoughts.
But, if she had already started, already put it out there, now she had to finish this. After all, what was the worst that could happen. Complete and utter failure and humiliation?
Bring it on.
But she couldn’t do it in Rachel’s arms, couldn’t risk feeling the other girl pull away in- in disgust or fear or - or whatever.
She pulled away, quickly and with no preamble, pulling a disappointed grunt from the other girl, and sat at the other end of the couch.
“I don’t really know,” Quinn gritted out between clenched teeth, hands tightly gripping the couch. If Rachel really wanted to know what she was thinking and feeling and all that, the other girl was going to work for it. “I’m not good at - at this! I don’t talk about my feelings or whatever. I’m not supposed to - that’s not the Fabray way.”
“Well, the Fabray way could certainly use some work then,” Rachel mumbles, mostly to herself, but Quinn hears and has to resist the urge to speak up in defense of her family. She knows it’s true. Maybe if she was able to talk to her family more, if they were able to talk to each other, she wouldn’t have ended up pregnant or homeless last year.
Quinn’s head snaps up, attention drawn again to Rachel as the other girl claps her hands unexpectedly, a small smile on her face.
“Alright then,” Rachel starts, a gleam in her eye that Quinn is certain she has seen before, “Let’s start there! We will examine your inner most thoughts and feelings to help us reach a definitive conclusion of any future happenings between the two of us. How exciting.”
Quinn arches a brow at the smiling girl, a little confused at the rapid turn around in emotion, and the other girl droops a little.
Which wasn’t even Quinn’s intent. She sort of, kind of, maybe likes it when the girl is sxcited and energetic. And she kind of likes the idea of being the one who caused it.
Finn always looked so excited to be singing with Rachel or doing stupid boy stuff, but was so half-assed and lazy with just about everything involving Quinn, it was so infuriating. Even when he was being the perfect boyfriend, he still looked bored with half the things he was doing, although he made quite the attempt to appear otherwise.
Seeing someone who was not only excited about just talking with her, but was completely open about the excitement, was nice. Great even. So she ignored her curiosity and trepidation about the rapid mood change and smiled at Rachel, attempting to lighten the mood.
It worked.
“Okay,” Rachel said, not even trying to appear calm as her leg being bouncing, “This is going to be a clear channel of communication between two people. We both must be honest and try are best not to hold anything back. We must remain open minded about what we hear, but, for this discussion, everything will remain in confidence. No judgment, no gossiping, no fear, okay?”
“Yeah,” Quinn answered, a little hesitant, but heartened by the promise of everything remaining between the two of them. Despite Rachel’s reputation of a big mouth, the thought of her spilling anything Quinn reveals hadn’t even occurred, which was a little terrifying. It should have been at the top of her priority list.
Rachel had already thought this through, though, which did make Quinn feel more comfortable.
“Great,” Rachel answered, taking her one word as an enthusiastic reply, “Let’s start. I guess, the most important thing we need to figure out is what you want. Nobody else in the room and no judgment from me, but in a perfect world where you get whatever you want with no repercussions, what is it that you - and just you; not your parents or friends or society - want.”
Quinn swallows nervously as images and memories fly through her head. She still doesn’t know what she wants or how to make things work…but what Rachel is talking about. Ignoring society and her mother and everything, that’s ignoring her needs. People don’t ignore the needs to focus on the wants. It’s unrealistic. It will only lead to - to stupidity or heartbreak.
“I- I don’t know exactly what I want,” Quinn begins. She thinks this is a little stupid and unrealistic, but she can try. Rachel deserves that much, even if it does end up a flop. “I have little idea, bits and pieces of things that I want, but they don’t - I can’t make the bits and pieces into a whole picture.”
“Then start small, Quinn. Start with the bits and pieces and will create a picture with them together.” Rachel is just disgustingly earnest and optimistic.
Quinn thinks, for once, this might be a good thing.
“Okay. Okay. I guess, the number one thing. I don’t - I don’t, am I allowed to say what I don’t want to start off with, instead of what I do want.” Quinn doesn’t know is she’s giving herself time or seriously asking for some defined boundaries, but she accepts Rachel’s small smile and nod with an another deep breath before beginning again.
“Fine. I mean, cool. Uh, good.” Quinn steadies herself. She sounds like a moron. “I don’t want to end up like, like my mother. Or Terri Schuester. Or Coach Sylvester.”
Quinn looks over at Rachel to see her reaction. She both craves and fears the reaction.
Rachel looks interested, head cocked and eyes curious, but there is definitely no judgment, as promised.
“Clarify, please,” the other girl asks sweetly. Quinn blinks in confusion.
“What do you mean?” Rachel doesn’t sigh at her or her lack of understanding, but Quinn reminds herself that Rachel is used to dealing with Finn.
“What you said makes sense but try clarifying what it is exactly that you don’t want. What about those women do you not want for your future?” Rachel is patient, not pushy like Quinn would expect. So she answers as honestly as possible.
“Most of the time,” Quinn starts, “it’s just this knee-jerk reaction. I’ll see one of them do something or say something and just know how easily that could be me, and I’m just disgusted at the possibility. Not - not at them. I love my mom, really I do. As long as she’s happy, her life can be whatever she wants. But I see her sometimes, just a small action or phrase, and my first thought is ‘Please, not me. I don’t want that.’ And I don’t think she’s happy. I don’t think Sylvester is happy or Mr. Schuester’s ex-wife. They all seem miserable.”
“I don’t want high school to be the best years of my life. I know, I know, that is what’s going to happen, and I hate it. I want a future. I want to get away from the small-mindedness and the expectations. I don’t want to end up a stepford house wife, reliant on my husband. Or the shrewish harpy wife. Or…or alone, clinging to my past and being a bitch, a caricature, to get through the days.”
“I just want a future where I can - I can be me, me away from all this high school bullshit. And I want somebody to love me, that me, the real me.”
She holds in the tears, like she should, and does not look at Rachel. This is why she doesn’t do these chats. Why would anyone want this. It’s exhausting and emotionally draining and horrible feeling.
Rachel, quiet as a mouse, slides up against her and wraps an arm around her. The hug is loose and comfortable and, as Rachel leans against her without saying a word, Quinn can’t stop the single sob or the small flow of tears.
Rachel doesn’t say anything as she wipes them away. But after their quiet moment, she finally talks.
“I feel a little stupid Quinn. I shouldn’t have…when we had that confrontation before Regionals - at, at the piano - I probably shouldn’t have been so self-involved. In retrospect, I acted wrongly during our confrontation. I should have seen what you were trying to show me,” Rachel says quietly, her voice soothing Quinn’s tears.
“One thing I can tell you, though,” Rachel continues with Quinn still in her arms, “is that you, Lucy Quinn Fabray, have enormous potential. The future is wide open for you. We may both be small town girls, living in our lonely worlds, but we don’t need to take midnight trains to anywhere. We have possibilities. Your grades are phenomenal, you have a wide variety of extracurricular activities to show well-roundedness, and those failures in your life that you’re so ashamed of will make spectacular college entrance or scholarship essays. And anything you need help with, I’ll be there. If you want to get away from this town, avoid being a Lima Loser, you can. I guarantee it. And if all else fails, you can totally sleep on my coach in New York City as I work my way up to being the next Broadway sensation.”
Rachel finishes this, pulling away from Quinn to shoot a cocky smirk at her, and Quinn is flooded with warmth. She still can’t really believe it, still feels the fear that keeps her up at night. As nice as the speech was, a minute of listening to Rachel doesn’t automatically fix everything.
But Rachel is still disgustingly earnest and optimistic, and Quinn sort of wants some of it. Wants to believe.
More than believing, though, she wants to work for the future. She wants to try.
“Okay, enough of that,” Quinn says, putting those thoughts on the backburner, “What’s next?”
Rachel looks a little startled, which is immensely satisfying for some reason, and fumbles for a moment.
“Oh! Umm, we’re still on you and what you want. Those are good thoughts for the future, and I personally encourage thinking of the future, but what do you want right now?” Rachel asks, unshakeable. Quinn sighs, wishing they were talking about anything else. Anything.
“Well, okay,” Quinn starts, and decides that it is time for something Rachel probably doesn’t want to hear. “I - I do want social acceptance. I hope my future is great and all, but right now, I don’t want to be the girl that got pregnant or the gleek. I liked being the head cheerleader. I like being popular. I like people looking at me like I matter, moving out of the way as I walk.”
Rachel is contemplative, staring off in the distance before she speaks.
“I’m not going to tell you that is wrong or you should ignore everyone. Everyone wants to be accepted by their peers and looked up to, this is human nature. I cannot, though, tell you where to rate this on your level of importance. Nor can I tell you how to make this happen, for obvious reasons. Between the two of us, you are probably the one able to spin the social situation to get what you want. All I can tell you is that, despite what most of the school seems to think, being popular does not equal being happy, although I believe you already know this.” Rachel has a point.
Sometimes, Quinn is the most popular girl in the school, but she also feels like the most miserable one. Popularity does not equal happiness. But it should.
“Quinn, what’s next?” Rachel asks, urging her forward.
“Uh, well, like I told you,” Quinn continues, fumbling, “I want someone to - to care about me. Like right now. I want someone who likes me for me, not because of my looks or my popularity. I don’t want them to fall in love with my eyes or the lies or the cheerleading skirt. I guess, I want a friend who will be there for me, whose not about to stab me in the back at any moment.”
“Quinn…?” Rachel says, conflicted and hesitant.
“Yeah?”
“You already have that one, I can tell you that much., I promise.” Rachel still looks so earnest, so Quinn doesn’t scoff or roll her eyes, ignores her first instincts and just gives the other girl a small smile.
“Rachel…I don’t - I really liked dating Finn this time around. Not - not because of Finn. Finn was second choice. I cheated on Sam with him, I did, but I wanted Sam. But since Prom…since you, Finn has been great. I know I can’t get that back, with Finn choosing you over me and all, but I really did - do want that. If we’re being honest.” Quinn isn’t sure what prompted this confession, doesn’t know how Rachel will take it, but couldn’t contain it any longer.
Rachel is staring at her seriously, and Quinn is so very thankful Rachel didn’t just laugh at her, nodding her head as she thinks everything over.
“So, then,” Rachel says, suddenly looking smaller, “was I…good?”
“What?” Quinn asks in confusion, ignoring the thoughts that immediately pop into her head at the words.
“I mean, I- I’m not a very good girlfriend. I wish I was, I tried so hard, but Finn never had anything good to say and Jesse broke up with me, and Noah, well, I dated Noah for three days so it didn’t really count. I didn’t have time to screw that up. And I know that I was just helping Finn, but…just - did I do a good job?” Rachel says really quickly, not looking at Quinn, and Quinn reminds herself that, for all of Rachel’s brash confidence, there is a teenage girl underneath it all.
It’s so easy to forget, sometimes, with Rachel’s larger than life personality.
“Rachel…” Quinn isn’t sure how much she wants to reveal, but, looking at Rachel’s sad eyes, decided to go for it. “You were seriously the best boyfriend I ever had. I mean, the Lion King calendar was completely unnecessary and all, but we all have are quirks and everything else totally made up for it. You’re like a total prince charming. I mean, Finn was still a fumbling mess when it came to…the intimate moments, but you had him trained but good. I don’t know how you got him to speak the perfect words sometimes, but it was like you were there every step of the way.” Rachel smiles brilliantly at her, all teeth, and Quinn can’t help but smile back.
“Microphones and flash cards,” Rachel chirps proudly, which may cause Quinn’s smile to waver for just a moment. Rachel really needs to learn to filter herself.
It’s not that Quinn minds the weirdness, as long as she profits from it, but Rachel would probably have more friends if she knew what to say and what to keep to herself.
Whatever. If weirdness leads to the kind of dates and plans she’s had recently, she can embrace it.
“Yeah, totally. So, we’ve been talking about me this entire time, what about you? What do you want? Know that Finn dumped me, are you going to leap back into his arms?” Quinn finally asks the question that has been on her mind since the beginning.
“Oh, uh, I don’t think so.” Rachel stutters, suddenly looking nervous. Which is weird. Quinn would think this is the kind of thing Rachel could talk about all day.
Although, now that she thinks about it, Quinn doesn’t really know all that much about Rachel Berry. Most of the things Rachel says, to a room or a crowd or anyone willing to pretend to listen, are vague exaggerations and stories. Or even details and stories that are only personal if she doesn’t look deeper.
Like, she knows Rachel has two gay dads and a therapist, but that’s about it. And she’s never seen any of them at their competitions or school events. And Quinn wonders if they would have learned about Shelby if Mercedes and her hadn’t been there in the auditorium when Rachel figured it out.
And Rachel had tried keeping Jesse a secret at first too. Only her lack of experience and insecurities, thus creating a need for advice, had given her away.
Quinn narrows her eyes at the other girl.
“Why not? Isn’t he what you wanted this entire time?” she asks, moving closer to Rachel to better assess the situation. Rachel grips at her shirt, fumbling with the bottom of it.
“Well, yes, for the most part. I do love him, I do. But working with him in such close quarters, hearing his thoughts and seeing how he treats girlfriends from an outside perspective…sort of put a damper on any sort of romantic feelings. I care about him greatly. He is and will always be my first real friend, which is a big deal, but looking at the past and especially the future…I don’t think we’ll work out. And I’m no longer desperate to make that happen. As far as friends go, I have Kurt and Noah as best friends - and Blaine and Sam and Mercedes. And Jesse, of course,” Rachel explains, easily falling into the rapid speak ramble she is so fond of.
Quinn wonders what is wrong with her that she can follow it so easily, and that she can barely contain a smile while listening. By the end, though, that smile is well contained.
“Does that mean you’re dating Jesse now?” Quinn growls out, nonchalantly examining the portraits aligning the walls. She doesn’t miss the way Rachel squints at her, face more confused than anything else.
“Jesse and I have made a mostly mutual decision to not reignite our previous romance,” Rachel replies easily.
“Mostly mutual?” Quinn asks, voice less of a growl now.
“Well, I guess- I decided that we really are better as friends…he will always be my first long-term boyfriend, but that is all we can be. He just hasn’t completely gotten the hint yet. I mean, he knows we’re not dating and I told him we never would, but he’s still trying. The attention is nice, though. He’s very supportive of me. If Kurt’s my gay-boy best friend and Noah is my straight-boy best friend, I’m not sure where Jesse stands. I’m thinking he could be like a brother to me, but we did almost have sex before, so that makes that a little awkward…It would be just perfect if he could be bisexual, though. And it’s practically a requirement of the theatre…” Rachel is starting to mumble to herself now, so Quinn cuts in quickly, before she loses Rachel to her head.
“Rach!” she prods, and Rachel head whips back to Quinn, surprise etched on her face. Quinn sighs to herself as she realizes this is the sort of thing she will have to get used to…
Quinn freezes.
Did she really just think that?
Did she mean it?
Yes. If so, though, she must fully assess the current situation. Her resolve tightens, and she looks seriously at Rachel.
“Why did you decide to be friends with Jesse…is it because he egged you?” Quinn asks, knowing that, in all the time she’s known Rachel, her deeds probably added up to worse than egging.
“Uh, not really. I’m a very forgiving person, as long as they apologize sincerely, which Jesse did. And I don’t think Finn’s ever even apologized for how he’s treated me in the past.,” Rachel explains. She looks closer at Quinn, appraising the other girl for just a moment, before sighing to herself.
“Okay, I would appreciate if you didn’t really tell anyone else this,” Rachel starts, waiting until she gets a nod of assent from Quinn before she continues. “I very obviously have a type.”
Quinn chuckles and nods, trying to ignore questioning this type a little. Because, for all her words so far, Quinn also doesn’t fall into this dark male lead type she knows Rachel likes.
“And I know it seems physical, but, although I do appreciate height and good looks, that’s not what draws me in. I like the musical talent, of course, but more than that, I like passion. And success. Finn might not be the smartest person around, but he does have the confidence on stage and gets right into whatever song he is singing. Unfortunately, I have learned that he is rather apathetic in most other areas of his life, including romance.” Rachel frowns thoughtfully before she continues.
“Jesse seemed like the whole package. He was taller than me and definitely good looking, but he also had that aura of confidence. He had talent and stage presence and knew he was headed for great things. But he really wasn’t. He was kicked out of college because he couldn’t survive without an Asian kid to take his tests for him. He’s a great singer and an excellent dancer, I assume an amazing actor, but he has no substance. I would love for him to come to New York with me when I graduate, be my go to leading man and future co-star, and I would joyfully help him learn to survive in the real world. But I can never date him.” Rachel looks unsurely at Quinn, as though expecting to be judged on not wanting to date a college drop-out with no future.
“So wait, forget him being like a brother to you. He sounds like one of those trained animals they use in TV shows and movies,” Quinn finally says with a laugh. “He’s like a dumb pet that you enjoy playing with. What are you going to do in New York, have him sleep on your couch until you need him to perform?”
“Hmm, I suppose that is an apt metaphor. He is already sleeping in my basement.” Quinn blinks in surprise. “And I do have to make sure I feed him or else he either forgets to eat or eats too much. Ohh! And we go on walks together!”
There is a lot Quinn could say right now. A lot. But she decides to keep her mouth shut.
“He’s living in your basement?” Well, Quinn mostly keeps her mouth shut.
“Uh, yeah. His parents don’t know that he was kicked out of college, so they still pay for his credit card and car and give him some extra money for school, that he’s saving. So he’s living in my basement,” Rachel answers, looking away nervously.
That doesn’t even make any sense.
“Wait, you don’t feel the least bit guilty about that? And how do your dads feel about this? Why is he our show choir consultant if he can’t last a single year at college?” Quinn asks incredulously. She has a feeling that hanging around Rachel is going to end up giving her migraines.
“Well, not really. His parents are sort of jerks, but he had a full scholarship anyways, so they just give him some extra living money. And my dads don’t know about Jesse. They’re not that observant and I’m very good at hiding things when necessary. I mean, you haven’t seen or heard him, but he’s in the basement right now. It’s soundproofed and locks with me having the key for when I need private time or performance times. As far as consulting goes, it really is mostly to keep him busy. Idle hands are the devil’s workshop,” Rachel explains with a shrug. Quinn, though, is still confused.
How would her dads not notice that she has someone living in the basement? Yeah, the pet metaphor is turning out to be completely accurate, but this is weirder than she would have thought possible. A large part of Quinn, the queen bee part that likes to keep track of pertinent information, wants to look closer, figure this all out.
An even larger part wants to stop talking about Jesse St. Who-Gives-A-Crap.
Rachel, apparently, does not.
“Quinn! Quinn!” Rachel exclaims, bouncing in her seat, and Quinn knows an idea has officially struck. “We can use Jesse.”
Quinn’s eyes furrow in confusion. “What?”
“Don’t you see? It would be perfect. You can date Jesse! It will work in your favor because he is a hot older boy who, as far as anybody knows, is on full scholarship at UCLA! He was just as popular at Carmel as you are here! You can say you stole one of my boyfriends as revenge for constantly stealing yours! And you would totally win the break up!” Rachel shrieks, way too excited for this plan.
She is off the couch, buzzing around like she took some vitamin D, and unable to notice the deep frown on Quinn’s face.
“This will be so much easier too. Jesse takes directions so much better than Finn. And he’s much more suave and less likely to stick his foot in his mouth. Plus, he’s already at my home at any moment and understands the importance of planning and practice. And without classes…think of all the free time he has to dote on you!” Rachel continues yammering about how perfect the idea is as Quinn sits pouting, waiting for Rachel to notice her.
It’s not a…horrible idea. Really, it’s not. It makes sense. But, it suddenly seems sick in her mind, that she would walk around in a fake romance with a guy she doesn’t even like on most days, kissing and hugging him. For what?
She doesn’t want to date Jesse, even if Rachel would be the one in control.
Now that she’s been forced to really look at what she was doing with Finn…with Rachel, she knows what she wants. And it’s not Jesse.
“Rachel,” Quinn speaks, quietly but in a tone that immediately draws Rachel’s attention.
“Rachel, I don’t want date Jesse.”
Rachel droops at the failure of an idea, but turns to look at Quinn inquisitively.
“It’s not a bad idea, okay,” Quinn explains, not really wanting to hurt the other girl’s feelings, “but, after everything with Finn, I don’t think it’s for me.”
“Well, we’ve been talking about this for a while now,” Rachel says, “and, despite my one brilliant idea, we haven’t really gotten anywhere. Think, Quinn, think hard. Perfect world- what do you want?”
Quinn swallows because, finally, she knows what she wants. She wants everything she had with Finn, but she doesn’t want Finn. She doesn’t want Jesse. She wants…
“I want to wake up in the morning and know that someone is waiting for me, thinking of me, caring enough to make sure I have breakfast.
I want to go to school and have someone honestly want to spend time with me, willing to go out of their way to spend as much time as possible with me, even if it is just between classes.
I want to be able to look across the room and see someone smiling at me.
I want to have someone care enough that the only way they can show it is through song.
I - I want to go out and spend time with someone who cares about me, and, honestly, I don’t care if it’s a picnic in the park, a carnival dedicated to me, or just a cheesy movie at home.”
Quinn stops, finding the nerve to say one last thing. She looks Rachel right in the eyes, taking note of the flustered, confused expression, and can’t resist raising one hand to reach out to her.
“I want you.”
Quinn says the words and Rachel completely freezes. She doesn’t pull away or lean closer or have any reaction except for the way her body goes completely still.
Quinn leans closer to her, lips a hair away from lips and whispers, “Rachel…”
The other girl doesn’t move at first, but slowly starts breathing again.
“Yeah?”
“Wh-what do you think?” The two of them are eye-to-eye, and Quinn swears she can see every freckle and every emotion flickering in Rachel’s eyes.
“I - I don’t know. You’re not just saying this to keep me away from Finn, right?” Rachel replies, voice shaking with uncertainty.
“No, you already said you weren’t going to take him back. I just…really liked the you behind everything. And I don’t even mind the freaking Lion King calendar! I’ve been using it for everything. I know this seems weird or whatever, but I want somebody to love me, but every time I think of whose out there, Finn or Sam or Jesse, you’re the only one I can stand the thought of being with, like all the time!”
Rachel still has that same flustered confusion across her face, and it is really not helping Quinn’s confidence.
“I - I know I’m screwed up and - and a bitch, but it’s like you look at me and see more than just the pretty wannabe prom queen. When you looked at me during prom, not just in the bathroom, but afterwards, I felt like I had possibilities and - and hope for the first time in how long. You smiled at me and it was enough. I want you, even if it’s just a friend. But I want more. And I think, with you by my side, I can be more than what I am now. With you, high school won’t be the greatest years of my life, because the future will be so much better.”
She’s still so close to Rachel’s face, close enough that her breath, deep and fast in her nervousness, is mingling with Rachel’s. Close enough to easily see the tears pool in her eyes and spill over, just as hers have done. And she’s smart enough to know what that means.
With a deep, sad swallow, Quinn begins to move away.
With that first movement, though, the first sign of retreat, Rachel snaps forward, throwing her arms around Quinn in a fast, strong hug.
Quinn moves to return the hug, no longer sure what is going on, when Rachel pulls away, just far enough to look her in the eyes.
“I’m going to kiss you know,” she warns, giving her just enough time to protest before she is moving forward again, this time much slower. Much more hesitant.
Quinn meets her halfway.
She doesn’t know what to expect. Despite the rumors that Santana and Brittany’s little lovefest have cause, she’s never kissed a girl before. She’s heard Puck talk about it, might’ve even made some snarky remarks to egg him on more, and heard that Rachel was a really good kisser, even if she does bite sometimes.
He didn’t do it justice.
If kissing Finn was familiar and fun, sparking fireworks and reminding her of better times, Rachel was…sinfully good. This was not familiar and safe, comfortable and innocent.
This was dangerous.
This was so good.
Honestly, it’s mostly innocent. Rachel is quick, though, and before Quinn knows it, she’s on her back with Rachel on top of her.
A couch has never been more comfortable.
Her hand makes its way into brunette hair, think and soft, and she feels warm lips move to her neck and then nothing.
Her own confused eyes, still lost in a foggy haze, look up at Rachel staring down at her.
“Okay,” Rachel mutters to herself, still straddling Quinn, “Yeah, this will work.”
“Yeah?” Quinn asks, working through the fog.
Rachel smirks confidently at her.
“Yeah.”
****
Jesse looks over at the clock again, pouting. Rachel should have been back an hour ago at the latest. The basement was nice and everything - it had fantastic acoustics - but he was hungry.
She was supposed to let him out.
God, who had locks on their basement, anyways.
He hopes Rachel isn’t mad at him when she gets back. He didn’t mean to knock over the plant.
He thought he saw a spider and was trying to kill it, but now there was dirt all over the floor.
He doesn’t know how to clean it up - and cleaning is certainly beneath him anyways - so now there was stupid dirt all over his living space.
With a grunt, he gave up glaring at the door and went back to lay down on the couch and take power nap.
He deserved it after all.
Maybe he’d indulge in another shower afterwards. But only if Rachel still failed to bring him some supper.
I might have an epilogue coming, but no guarantees.
Chap 1, Chap 2, Chap 3
Chapter 4: It’s Not Him, It’s You
They may or may not have just sat there, staring at each other, for the next ten minutes.
Rachel, completely ignorant of certain social norms, was just staring at her intensely, apparently waiting for her to begin the conversation. Quinn will admit that, as weird as it is to have someone stare - possibly without blinking - for ten minutes, it was more than a little bit thrilling. Finn, after all, would have lost patience nine and a half minutes ago and either blurted out something indescribably stupid or started daydreaming.
Quinn can’t speak, though. Her mouth is dry, no matter how many sips of hot chocolate she takes, and her tongue feels like it’s going to fall out of her mouth. Plus, her throat must be closing up or something, because she can barely swallow.
It’s not nerves, by the way. Quinn Fabray does not get nervous, especially not for Rachel Berry.
Still, Quinn admitted some very stupid things not too long ago, things they now had to talk about, and Quinn was not ready. Not at all.
Part of her wants to talk about it, this weird situation. At least then, she’d be the one in control of the conversation, directing the flow and holding the power, but she can’t bring herself to speak.
This talk, whether they are clearing the air or figuring out their stories, is going to lead nowhere fast, because Quinn already knows what happened and how this is going to play out.
Rachel wanted to help Finn, make Finn happy, spend time with Finn, and Finn’s Finneptitude meant that helping Finn made Quinn very happy. Embarrassingly happy.
But now, helping Finn didn’t equal making Quinn happy, so that would stop. Instead, Rachel would leap back into Finn’s ape-like arms like some sappy, stereotypical rom-com, and Quinn would be left in the cold, loveless and all alone.
Rachel was a nice person, insanely and stupidly nice, which was why the other girl was treating her so well right now. Why she had always treated Quinn well, even when Quinn was being a vindictive harpy (ignoring the stupid things Rachel’s supposed love for Finn had her doing). But, after getting the clichéd, if slightly altered, “it’s not you; it’s me” speech, Quinn would be gone.
Left alone.
Out of sight and out of mind.
Her breath caught in her throat as the traitorous thoughts swam through her head, and, suddenly, she couldn’t take it anymore. Not one more moment.
Something must have shifted in her eyes, some tell-tale sign that her fight-or-flight instincts had finally activated, because Rachel started moving towards her, a sudden flutter of energy, a split-second before Quinn jumped up to run.
“I have to go- get out of here. I didn’t think- I don’t-” Quinn spoke hurriedly in hushed tones, struggling slightly in Rachel’s grasp. The other girl had reached forward, suddenly and impossibly close, to lightly grasp her arm. She hadn’t grabbed anything else, and her grip was soft and comforting more than an actual restraint, so Quinn could have very easily shifted away and escaped from the confusion and hurt that was sure to follow.
But it was the light grasp, soothing and nonthreatening, that kept her there. If she had grabbed tightly and tried to hold her back, Quinn would have only struggled more, panicking at the containment. The soft grip and, more than anything else, the eyes full of promise and care, were much better at keeping her from running.
Rachel really did know how to deal with her.
Quinn swallowed harshly, blinking away at her tearing eyes, as Rachel began speaking.
“It’s okay, Quinn. Really, it is. We don’t need to talk about anything you’re not ready for,” she says, that Rachel Berry intensity focused only on Quinn, causing that familiar shiver. “I understand. I think we should talk, figure out what’s next, apologize, but only when you’re ready. When you’re comfortable.”
Quinn knows she will never be ready, much less comfortable. After what she admitted earlier, impossible to take back, Quinn figures this is just one more thing that needs to be swept under the rug, buried and ignored until it is completely forgotten about.
Rachel knows when it’s best to ease up and when it’s best to push - and if Quinn looks back, she’s seen the signs that Rachel has always known - and Quinn’s anxiety settles as Rachel, full of soft words and gentle touches, eases her into the couch.
Sometimes, Quinn forgets that not everyone is a Fabray and accustomed to dealing with life’s little issues the same way she is. Rachel, at the very least, will never let an issue die so easily.
Quinn knows she’ll have to talk about this eventually, and better in private than in front of a crowd when Rachel loses control of her delicate filter, but Quinn would rather let it fester for a while as she scrambles for excuses.
She’s killer at making up excuses. Seriously. Deception is her middle name.
Mono via gumballs. How could Sam get mad at her saving someone from choking? Or hot tub insemination. Her taco baby. That time she convinced Santana that Camo and Suspenders were in. Or when Fuchsia, the original shoo-in for head cheerleader, was led to believe that the first cheer meeting was taking place at the local McDonalds.
That one was classic. The girl ended up transferring to Jane Adams after Coach Sylvester sent out a search team and found her eating a frosty.
But sitting down, listening to the gibberish comfort words Rachel was spouting, Quinn didn’t have time to put her excellent subterfuge skills to works.
She was just going to have to be honest and hope everything worked out. Her realistic side, the part of her that begged her to cling to Finn and spoke of a future stuck in Lima, told her that, even if Rachel wiped them away, she would still be leaving the house in tears. But if that was happening no matter what, she might as well get it over with.
Rachel’s soft voice, normally so loud and brash, was soothing her, and Quinn really couldn’t help herself as she leaned against the other girl once again.
“Okay,” she choked out, face hidden in Rachel’s shoulder, “Okay, I can- I can do this.”
Rachel quieted, just holding her, and Quinn had to push away the traitorous thoughts sneering that, soon, she wouldn’t have anyone holding her.
Rachel was still just holding her, waiting on her, giving her all the time she needed, but Quinn didn’t want that.
She was done. She already knew she lost…everything, and now she just wanted to get it over with. She appreciated Rachel putting the ball in her court, allowing her to steer the conversation, but Quinn, for once, didn’t want to be in control.
So she decided to reveal her hand.
“You chose the corsage, right?” she asked Rachel quietly. The other girl tensed.
“Yeah.”
“The musical apology after prom?”
“Yeah.”
“Picking me up in the mornings with breakfast? Walking me to class? The Quinn Fabray All-Day Birthday Extravaganza? The personalized ring-tone collection?”
“Yes, okay, yes! All of the above!” Rachel finally shouted, showing a little anger, although, more than anything, she sounded embarrassed and ashamed. “I screwed up. I get it!”
She started to pull away from Quinn, but Quinn, before she even realized what she was doing, tightened her grip on the other girl, not letting her go.
“I just- I didn’t mean for it to get so messed up,” Rachel admitted, a slight crack in her voice. “I just…I know that it’s just a stupid teenage thing, but Prom is important. Maybe not in the grand scheme of things, and maybe not for everyone, but, especially for girls, it’s a chance to feel like a Queen, even if it is only for one night. That’s why I worked so hard to get Mercedes to go. And that’s why I helped Finn.”
Quinn is leaning against Rachel as Rachel speaks softly. She might not have needed the explanation, might have already assumed the worst, but she really is all ears. She knows that most people zone out the second Rachel opens her mouth, but Quinn has always listened.
But only because it’s the best way to find information out about Rachel. To make fun of her. And stuff.
Whatever.
At least, the way Rachel was explaining everything now, it seems like Rachel was initially trying to help Quinn, not Finn, and that’s a little nice. Quinn sighs, as she listens to Rachel continue to explain.
“Finn was being a moron!” Rachel hisses and Quinn perks up. “I mean, it’s not the first time that Finn wasn’t interested in until I started seeing Jesse, okay, so I was used to that. I even sort of expected it because Finn is a little predictable. But he was thinking about bailing on Prom, for no real reason. It was passive aggressive bull! So I tried to help.”
Rachel goes quiet for a moment, obviously thinking something over, although Quinn can’t fathom what must be going through her mind at the moment.
“When you…lost, completely unfairly by the way, and we had the little incident in the bathroom, it made me think. About you, and my actions towards you, and I realized a great deal. I meant what I said, about your beauty and your worth, but I also think it opened my eyes a little.”
Quinn stilled completely. She couldn’t speak because she honestly wanted to hear what Rachel was going to say, but this wasn’t in the script.
“I only met you in the eighth, you just seemed…perfect. You weren’t like me. You were pretty, yes - of course, but more than that. You knew what to say, what to wear, who to talk to, who to ignore. Everybody liked you. I never really had one of those clichéd secret crushes most people get on a popular student, like Kurt’s on Finn. And don’t roll your eyes at me. My feelings for Finn had absolutely nothing to do with him being the golden boy of the school and everything to do with him being a very good male lead.”
Rachel turns her head and looks Quinn right in the eyes.
“If I’d had one on anybody though, a secret crush, it would have been on you. I don’t mean this in a weird way or anything, but I wanted to be your friend so badly…even when all you wanted to do with me was call me names and make snooty remarks. You just seemed, outside of your need to degrade and humiliate me, perfect and amazing.”
Quinn’s really not sure how she’s breathing right now. She’s fairly sure she isn’t. She doesn’t know what to make of this.
“I got over it, of course,” Rachel says loftily, averting her eyes and showing just the right amount of anxiety that makes Quinn wonder. “I mean, what would it say about me, as a person, if I spent my times wanting to be friends with somebody that treated me like something they scraped of their shoe. Finn came along, and he was adequate, though I did get a little too invested. It’s just…he was nice to me, at least compared to everyone else, and I did not want to lose that. But little moments keeping popping up that show your vulnerabilities and Finn’s flaws, and everything’s gotten so confusing!”
Quinn was finally starting to feel some hope. It was a weird hope. She still didn’t know what she wanted.
She wanted things to stay the same, mostly. She liked having the popular quarterback as her boyfriend. Liked the looks of adoration from her peers. She liked it even more when that popular quarterback treated her well, treated her like Rachel Berry would treat her.
What she didn’t like was change. She hated change. Change was perpetually bad for her. In fact, any change that seemed good was really just reverting and going back to the status quo, like when she was allowed to have a home again.
But things had changed. She cannot undo the past, so she has to figure out how to make this work for her.
She can’t have the popular quarterback as her boyfriend. She doesn’t know how she’ll be able to keep the looks of adoration from her classmates.
But she might be able to keep Rachel. Keep her from Finn…keep her for herself. Quinn isn’t really sure what she wants, this is true.
Mostly, she just wants somebody to love her. Sincerely love her. Unconditionally love her. Not for her looks or her popularity or her family or prestige, but just for her.
Just for Lucy Quinn Fabray.
And, for the first time since she was a young girl, she feels hope.
It’s worrisome. Every time she feels a flicker of hope, it is extinguished. Quickly and with extreme prejudice.
So she braces herself. But that stupid, spreading hope, as annoying and persistent as the girl creating it, continues to grow and become stronger, until it prompts her to do something stupid.
“Are you gonna leave me?” It came out hesitant and weak, but it wasn’t supposed to come out at all. Crap.
It was the number one thought going through her head, the only thing she really cared about in this conversation, but she wasn’t supposed to say it out loud.
Rachel, technically, couldn’t even leave her, since they weren’t together. She was dating Finn… had been dating Finn…had been dating a Finn puppet. But not Rachel. Not really. For all she knew, Rachel was completely satisfied with Jesse. Or was going to jump back to Finn. Or whatever, but she wasn’t going to stay with Quinn in any capacity
But she had said it. The stupid, weak words had escaped her mouth and cut off whatever Rachel was going to say.
She’s not sure what she expected as a response, but Rachel’s silence certainly wasn’t it. The thing was, Rachel was usually remarkably good at talking her down and making her feel better, so she had expected something like that.
But Rachel was quiet.
Quinn’s heart was pounding.
“I…” Rachel started, pausing to clear her throat uncomfortably, “I don’t…quite understand what you mean. I could shower you with false platitudes right now, but I don’t- right now is the time for honesty. Right? I don’t want to leave you, I really don’t, but what exactly do you mean.”
Of course. It’s not enough that she showed her vulnerability and weakness to the one girl who really had the power to destroy her (though was the least likely to try, even if she had the most reasons to do so), now she was expected to speak about it. About her feelings and thoughts.
But, if she had already started, already put it out there, now she had to finish this. After all, what was the worst that could happen. Complete and utter failure and humiliation?
Bring it on.
But she couldn’t do it in Rachel’s arms, couldn’t risk feeling the other girl pull away in- in disgust or fear or - or whatever.
She pulled away, quickly and with no preamble, pulling a disappointed grunt from the other girl, and sat at the other end of the couch.
“I don’t really know,” Quinn gritted out between clenched teeth, hands tightly gripping the couch. If Rachel really wanted to know what she was thinking and feeling and all that, the other girl was going to work for it. “I’m not good at - at this! I don’t talk about my feelings or whatever. I’m not supposed to - that’s not the Fabray way.”
“Well, the Fabray way could certainly use some work then,” Rachel mumbles, mostly to herself, but Quinn hears and has to resist the urge to speak up in defense of her family. She knows it’s true. Maybe if she was able to talk to her family more, if they were able to talk to each other, she wouldn’t have ended up pregnant or homeless last year.
Quinn’s head snaps up, attention drawn again to Rachel as the other girl claps her hands unexpectedly, a small smile on her face.
“Alright then,” Rachel starts, a gleam in her eye that Quinn is certain she has seen before, “Let’s start there! We will examine your inner most thoughts and feelings to help us reach a definitive conclusion of any future happenings between the two of us. How exciting.”
Quinn arches a brow at the smiling girl, a little confused at the rapid turn around in emotion, and the other girl droops a little.
Which wasn’t even Quinn’s intent. She sort of, kind of, maybe likes it when the girl is sxcited and energetic. And she kind of likes the idea of being the one who caused it.
Finn always looked so excited to be singing with Rachel or doing stupid boy stuff, but was so half-assed and lazy with just about everything involving Quinn, it was so infuriating. Even when he was being the perfect boyfriend, he still looked bored with half the things he was doing, although he made quite the attempt to appear otherwise.
Seeing someone who was not only excited about just talking with her, but was completely open about the excitement, was nice. Great even. So she ignored her curiosity and trepidation about the rapid mood change and smiled at Rachel, attempting to lighten the mood.
It worked.
“Okay,” Rachel said, not even trying to appear calm as her leg being bouncing, “This is going to be a clear channel of communication between two people. We both must be honest and try are best not to hold anything back. We must remain open minded about what we hear, but, for this discussion, everything will remain in confidence. No judgment, no gossiping, no fear, okay?”
“Yeah,” Quinn answered, a little hesitant, but heartened by the promise of everything remaining between the two of them. Despite Rachel’s reputation of a big mouth, the thought of her spilling anything Quinn reveals hadn’t even occurred, which was a little terrifying. It should have been at the top of her priority list.
Rachel had already thought this through, though, which did make Quinn feel more comfortable.
“Great,” Rachel answered, taking her one word as an enthusiastic reply, “Let’s start. I guess, the most important thing we need to figure out is what you want. Nobody else in the room and no judgment from me, but in a perfect world where you get whatever you want with no repercussions, what is it that you - and just you; not your parents or friends or society - want.”
Quinn swallows nervously as images and memories fly through her head. She still doesn’t know what she wants or how to make things work…but what Rachel is talking about. Ignoring society and her mother and everything, that’s ignoring her needs. People don’t ignore the needs to focus on the wants. It’s unrealistic. It will only lead to - to stupidity or heartbreak.
“I- I don’t know exactly what I want,” Quinn begins. She thinks this is a little stupid and unrealistic, but she can try. Rachel deserves that much, even if it does end up a flop. “I have little idea, bits and pieces of things that I want, but they don’t - I can’t make the bits and pieces into a whole picture.”
“Then start small, Quinn. Start with the bits and pieces and will create a picture with them together.” Rachel is just disgustingly earnest and optimistic.
Quinn thinks, for once, this might be a good thing.
“Okay. Okay. I guess, the number one thing. I don’t - I don’t, am I allowed to say what I don’t want to start off with, instead of what I do want.” Quinn doesn’t know is she’s giving herself time or seriously asking for some defined boundaries, but she accepts Rachel’s small smile and nod with an another deep breath before beginning again.
“Fine. I mean, cool. Uh, good.” Quinn steadies herself. She sounds like a moron. “I don’t want to end up like, like my mother. Or Terri Schuester. Or Coach Sylvester.”
Quinn looks over at Rachel to see her reaction. She both craves and fears the reaction.
Rachel looks interested, head cocked and eyes curious, but there is definitely no judgment, as promised.
“Clarify, please,” the other girl asks sweetly. Quinn blinks in confusion.
“What do you mean?” Rachel doesn’t sigh at her or her lack of understanding, but Quinn reminds herself that Rachel is used to dealing with Finn.
“What you said makes sense but try clarifying what it is exactly that you don’t want. What about those women do you not want for your future?” Rachel is patient, not pushy like Quinn would expect. So she answers as honestly as possible.
“Most of the time,” Quinn starts, “it’s just this knee-jerk reaction. I’ll see one of them do something or say something and just know how easily that could be me, and I’m just disgusted at the possibility. Not - not at them. I love my mom, really I do. As long as she’s happy, her life can be whatever she wants. But I see her sometimes, just a small action or phrase, and my first thought is ‘Please, not me. I don’t want that.’ And I don’t think she’s happy. I don’t think Sylvester is happy or Mr. Schuester’s ex-wife. They all seem miserable.”
“I don’t want high school to be the best years of my life. I know, I know, that is what’s going to happen, and I hate it. I want a future. I want to get away from the small-mindedness and the expectations. I don’t want to end up a stepford house wife, reliant on my husband. Or the shrewish harpy wife. Or…or alone, clinging to my past and being a bitch, a caricature, to get through the days.”
“I just want a future where I can - I can be me, me away from all this high school bullshit. And I want somebody to love me, that me, the real me.”
She holds in the tears, like she should, and does not look at Rachel. This is why she doesn’t do these chats. Why would anyone want this. It’s exhausting and emotionally draining and horrible feeling.
Rachel, quiet as a mouse, slides up against her and wraps an arm around her. The hug is loose and comfortable and, as Rachel leans against her without saying a word, Quinn can’t stop the single sob or the small flow of tears.
Rachel doesn’t say anything as she wipes them away. But after their quiet moment, she finally talks.
“I feel a little stupid Quinn. I shouldn’t have…when we had that confrontation before Regionals - at, at the piano - I probably shouldn’t have been so self-involved. In retrospect, I acted wrongly during our confrontation. I should have seen what you were trying to show me,” Rachel says quietly, her voice soothing Quinn’s tears.
“One thing I can tell you, though,” Rachel continues with Quinn still in her arms, “is that you, Lucy Quinn Fabray, have enormous potential. The future is wide open for you. We may both be small town girls, living in our lonely worlds, but we don’t need to take midnight trains to anywhere. We have possibilities. Your grades are phenomenal, you have a wide variety of extracurricular activities to show well-roundedness, and those failures in your life that you’re so ashamed of will make spectacular college entrance or scholarship essays. And anything you need help with, I’ll be there. If you want to get away from this town, avoid being a Lima Loser, you can. I guarantee it. And if all else fails, you can totally sleep on my coach in New York City as I work my way up to being the next Broadway sensation.”
Rachel finishes this, pulling away from Quinn to shoot a cocky smirk at her, and Quinn is flooded with warmth. She still can’t really believe it, still feels the fear that keeps her up at night. As nice as the speech was, a minute of listening to Rachel doesn’t automatically fix everything.
But Rachel is still disgustingly earnest and optimistic, and Quinn sort of wants some of it. Wants to believe.
More than believing, though, she wants to work for the future. She wants to try.
“Okay, enough of that,” Quinn says, putting those thoughts on the backburner, “What’s next?”
Rachel looks a little startled, which is immensely satisfying for some reason, and fumbles for a moment.
“Oh! Umm, we’re still on you and what you want. Those are good thoughts for the future, and I personally encourage thinking of the future, but what do you want right now?” Rachel asks, unshakeable. Quinn sighs, wishing they were talking about anything else. Anything.
“Well, okay,” Quinn starts, and decides that it is time for something Rachel probably doesn’t want to hear. “I - I do want social acceptance. I hope my future is great and all, but right now, I don’t want to be the girl that got pregnant or the gleek. I liked being the head cheerleader. I like being popular. I like people looking at me like I matter, moving out of the way as I walk.”
Rachel is contemplative, staring off in the distance before she speaks.
“I’m not going to tell you that is wrong or you should ignore everyone. Everyone wants to be accepted by their peers and looked up to, this is human nature. I cannot, though, tell you where to rate this on your level of importance. Nor can I tell you how to make this happen, for obvious reasons. Between the two of us, you are probably the one able to spin the social situation to get what you want. All I can tell you is that, despite what most of the school seems to think, being popular does not equal being happy, although I believe you already know this.” Rachel has a point.
Sometimes, Quinn is the most popular girl in the school, but she also feels like the most miserable one. Popularity does not equal happiness. But it should.
“Quinn, what’s next?” Rachel asks, urging her forward.
“Uh, well, like I told you,” Quinn continues, fumbling, “I want someone to - to care about me. Like right now. I want someone who likes me for me, not because of my looks or my popularity. I don’t want them to fall in love with my eyes or the lies or the cheerleading skirt. I guess, I want a friend who will be there for me, whose not about to stab me in the back at any moment.”
“Quinn…?” Rachel says, conflicted and hesitant.
“Yeah?”
“You already have that one, I can tell you that much., I promise.” Rachel still looks so earnest, so Quinn doesn’t scoff or roll her eyes, ignores her first instincts and just gives the other girl a small smile.
“Rachel…I don’t - I really liked dating Finn this time around. Not - not because of Finn. Finn was second choice. I cheated on Sam with him, I did, but I wanted Sam. But since Prom…since you, Finn has been great. I know I can’t get that back, with Finn choosing you over me and all, but I really did - do want that. If we’re being honest.” Quinn isn’t sure what prompted this confession, doesn’t know how Rachel will take it, but couldn’t contain it any longer.
Rachel is staring at her seriously, and Quinn is so very thankful Rachel didn’t just laugh at her, nodding her head as she thinks everything over.
“So, then,” Rachel says, suddenly looking smaller, “was I…good?”
“What?” Quinn asks in confusion, ignoring the thoughts that immediately pop into her head at the words.
“I mean, I- I’m not a very good girlfriend. I wish I was, I tried so hard, but Finn never had anything good to say and Jesse broke up with me, and Noah, well, I dated Noah for three days so it didn’t really count. I didn’t have time to screw that up. And I know that I was just helping Finn, but…just - did I do a good job?” Rachel says really quickly, not looking at Quinn, and Quinn reminds herself that, for all of Rachel’s brash confidence, there is a teenage girl underneath it all.
It’s so easy to forget, sometimes, with Rachel’s larger than life personality.
“Rachel…” Quinn isn’t sure how much she wants to reveal, but, looking at Rachel’s sad eyes, decided to go for it. “You were seriously the best boyfriend I ever had. I mean, the Lion King calendar was completely unnecessary and all, but we all have are quirks and everything else totally made up for it. You’re like a total prince charming. I mean, Finn was still a fumbling mess when it came to…the intimate moments, but you had him trained but good. I don’t know how you got him to speak the perfect words sometimes, but it was like you were there every step of the way.” Rachel smiles brilliantly at her, all teeth, and Quinn can’t help but smile back.
“Microphones and flash cards,” Rachel chirps proudly, which may cause Quinn’s smile to waver for just a moment. Rachel really needs to learn to filter herself.
It’s not that Quinn minds the weirdness, as long as she profits from it, but Rachel would probably have more friends if she knew what to say and what to keep to herself.
Whatever. If weirdness leads to the kind of dates and plans she’s had recently, she can embrace it.
“Yeah, totally. So, we’ve been talking about me this entire time, what about you? What do you want? Know that Finn dumped me, are you going to leap back into his arms?” Quinn finally asks the question that has been on her mind since the beginning.
“Oh, uh, I don’t think so.” Rachel stutters, suddenly looking nervous. Which is weird. Quinn would think this is the kind of thing Rachel could talk about all day.
Although, now that she thinks about it, Quinn doesn’t really know all that much about Rachel Berry. Most of the things Rachel says, to a room or a crowd or anyone willing to pretend to listen, are vague exaggerations and stories. Or even details and stories that are only personal if she doesn’t look deeper.
Like, she knows Rachel has two gay dads and a therapist, but that’s about it. And she’s never seen any of them at their competitions or school events. And Quinn wonders if they would have learned about Shelby if Mercedes and her hadn’t been there in the auditorium when Rachel figured it out.
And Rachel had tried keeping Jesse a secret at first too. Only her lack of experience and insecurities, thus creating a need for advice, had given her away.
Quinn narrows her eyes at the other girl.
“Why not? Isn’t he what you wanted this entire time?” she asks, moving closer to Rachel to better assess the situation. Rachel grips at her shirt, fumbling with the bottom of it.
“Well, yes, for the most part. I do love him, I do. But working with him in such close quarters, hearing his thoughts and seeing how he treats girlfriends from an outside perspective…sort of put a damper on any sort of romantic feelings. I care about him greatly. He is and will always be my first real friend, which is a big deal, but looking at the past and especially the future…I don’t think we’ll work out. And I’m no longer desperate to make that happen. As far as friends go, I have Kurt and Noah as best friends - and Blaine and Sam and Mercedes. And Jesse, of course,” Rachel explains, easily falling into the rapid speak ramble she is so fond of.
Quinn wonders what is wrong with her that she can follow it so easily, and that she can barely contain a smile while listening. By the end, though, that smile is well contained.
“Does that mean you’re dating Jesse now?” Quinn growls out, nonchalantly examining the portraits aligning the walls. She doesn’t miss the way Rachel squints at her, face more confused than anything else.
“Jesse and I have made a mostly mutual decision to not reignite our previous romance,” Rachel replies easily.
“Mostly mutual?” Quinn asks, voice less of a growl now.
“Well, I guess- I decided that we really are better as friends…he will always be my first long-term boyfriend, but that is all we can be. He just hasn’t completely gotten the hint yet. I mean, he knows we’re not dating and I told him we never would, but he’s still trying. The attention is nice, though. He’s very supportive of me. If Kurt’s my gay-boy best friend and Noah is my straight-boy best friend, I’m not sure where Jesse stands. I’m thinking he could be like a brother to me, but we did almost have sex before, so that makes that a little awkward…It would be just perfect if he could be bisexual, though. And it’s practically a requirement of the theatre…” Rachel is starting to mumble to herself now, so Quinn cuts in quickly, before she loses Rachel to her head.
“Rach!” she prods, and Rachel head whips back to Quinn, surprise etched on her face. Quinn sighs to herself as she realizes this is the sort of thing she will have to get used to…
Quinn freezes.
Did she really just think that?
Did she mean it?
Yes. If so, though, she must fully assess the current situation. Her resolve tightens, and she looks seriously at Rachel.
“Why did you decide to be friends with Jesse…is it because he egged you?” Quinn asks, knowing that, in all the time she’s known Rachel, her deeds probably added up to worse than egging.
“Uh, not really. I’m a very forgiving person, as long as they apologize sincerely, which Jesse did. And I don’t think Finn’s ever even apologized for how he’s treated me in the past.,” Rachel explains. She looks closer at Quinn, appraising the other girl for just a moment, before sighing to herself.
“Okay, I would appreciate if you didn’t really tell anyone else this,” Rachel starts, waiting until she gets a nod of assent from Quinn before she continues. “I very obviously have a type.”
Quinn chuckles and nods, trying to ignore questioning this type a little. Because, for all her words so far, Quinn also doesn’t fall into this dark male lead type she knows Rachel likes.
“And I know it seems physical, but, although I do appreciate height and good looks, that’s not what draws me in. I like the musical talent, of course, but more than that, I like passion. And success. Finn might not be the smartest person around, but he does have the confidence on stage and gets right into whatever song he is singing. Unfortunately, I have learned that he is rather apathetic in most other areas of his life, including romance.” Rachel frowns thoughtfully before she continues.
“Jesse seemed like the whole package. He was taller than me and definitely good looking, but he also had that aura of confidence. He had talent and stage presence and knew he was headed for great things. But he really wasn’t. He was kicked out of college because he couldn’t survive without an Asian kid to take his tests for him. He’s a great singer and an excellent dancer, I assume an amazing actor, but he has no substance. I would love for him to come to New York with me when I graduate, be my go to leading man and future co-star, and I would joyfully help him learn to survive in the real world. But I can never date him.” Rachel looks unsurely at Quinn, as though expecting to be judged on not wanting to date a college drop-out with no future.
“So wait, forget him being like a brother to you. He sounds like one of those trained animals they use in TV shows and movies,” Quinn finally says with a laugh. “He’s like a dumb pet that you enjoy playing with. What are you going to do in New York, have him sleep on your couch until you need him to perform?”
“Hmm, I suppose that is an apt metaphor. He is already sleeping in my basement.” Quinn blinks in surprise. “And I do have to make sure I feed him or else he either forgets to eat or eats too much. Ohh! And we go on walks together!”
There is a lot Quinn could say right now. A lot. But she decides to keep her mouth shut.
“He’s living in your basement?” Well, Quinn mostly keeps her mouth shut.
“Uh, yeah. His parents don’t know that he was kicked out of college, so they still pay for his credit card and car and give him some extra money for school, that he’s saving. So he’s living in my basement,” Rachel answers, looking away nervously.
That doesn’t even make any sense.
“Wait, you don’t feel the least bit guilty about that? And how do your dads feel about this? Why is he our show choir consultant if he can’t last a single year at college?” Quinn asks incredulously. She has a feeling that hanging around Rachel is going to end up giving her migraines.
“Well, not really. His parents are sort of jerks, but he had a full scholarship anyways, so they just give him some extra living money. And my dads don’t know about Jesse. They’re not that observant and I’m very good at hiding things when necessary. I mean, you haven’t seen or heard him, but he’s in the basement right now. It’s soundproofed and locks with me having the key for when I need private time or performance times. As far as consulting goes, it really is mostly to keep him busy. Idle hands are the devil’s workshop,” Rachel explains with a shrug. Quinn, though, is still confused.
How would her dads not notice that she has someone living in the basement? Yeah, the pet metaphor is turning out to be completely accurate, but this is weirder than she would have thought possible. A large part of Quinn, the queen bee part that likes to keep track of pertinent information, wants to look closer, figure this all out.
An even larger part wants to stop talking about Jesse St. Who-Gives-A-Crap.
Rachel, apparently, does not.
“Quinn! Quinn!” Rachel exclaims, bouncing in her seat, and Quinn knows an idea has officially struck. “We can use Jesse.”
Quinn’s eyes furrow in confusion. “What?”
“Don’t you see? It would be perfect. You can date Jesse! It will work in your favor because he is a hot older boy who, as far as anybody knows, is on full scholarship at UCLA! He was just as popular at Carmel as you are here! You can say you stole one of my boyfriends as revenge for constantly stealing yours! And you would totally win the break up!” Rachel shrieks, way too excited for this plan.
She is off the couch, buzzing around like she took some vitamin D, and unable to notice the deep frown on Quinn’s face.
“This will be so much easier too. Jesse takes directions so much better than Finn. And he’s much more suave and less likely to stick his foot in his mouth. Plus, he’s already at my home at any moment and understands the importance of planning and practice. And without classes…think of all the free time he has to dote on you!” Rachel continues yammering about how perfect the idea is as Quinn sits pouting, waiting for Rachel to notice her.
It’s not a…horrible idea. Really, it’s not. It makes sense. But, it suddenly seems sick in her mind, that she would walk around in a fake romance with a guy she doesn’t even like on most days, kissing and hugging him. For what?
She doesn’t want to date Jesse, even if Rachel would be the one in control.
Now that she’s been forced to really look at what she was doing with Finn…with Rachel, she knows what she wants. And it’s not Jesse.
“Rachel,” Quinn speaks, quietly but in a tone that immediately draws Rachel’s attention.
“Rachel, I don’t want date Jesse.”
Rachel droops at the failure of an idea, but turns to look at Quinn inquisitively.
“It’s not a bad idea, okay,” Quinn explains, not really wanting to hurt the other girl’s feelings, “but, after everything with Finn, I don’t think it’s for me.”
“Well, we’ve been talking about this for a while now,” Rachel says, “and, despite my one brilliant idea, we haven’t really gotten anywhere. Think, Quinn, think hard. Perfect world- what do you want?”
Quinn swallows because, finally, she knows what she wants. She wants everything she had with Finn, but she doesn’t want Finn. She doesn’t want Jesse. She wants…
“I want to wake up in the morning and know that someone is waiting for me, thinking of me, caring enough to make sure I have breakfast.
I want to go to school and have someone honestly want to spend time with me, willing to go out of their way to spend as much time as possible with me, even if it is just between classes.
I want to be able to look across the room and see someone smiling at me.
I want to have someone care enough that the only way they can show it is through song.
I - I want to go out and spend time with someone who cares about me, and, honestly, I don’t care if it’s a picnic in the park, a carnival dedicated to me, or just a cheesy movie at home.”
Quinn stops, finding the nerve to say one last thing. She looks Rachel right in the eyes, taking note of the flustered, confused expression, and can’t resist raising one hand to reach out to her.
“I want you.”
Quinn says the words and Rachel completely freezes. She doesn’t pull away or lean closer or have any reaction except for the way her body goes completely still.
Quinn leans closer to her, lips a hair away from lips and whispers, “Rachel…”
The other girl doesn’t move at first, but slowly starts breathing again.
“Yeah?”
“Wh-what do you think?” The two of them are eye-to-eye, and Quinn swears she can see every freckle and every emotion flickering in Rachel’s eyes.
“I - I don’t know. You’re not just saying this to keep me away from Finn, right?” Rachel replies, voice shaking with uncertainty.
“No, you already said you weren’t going to take him back. I just…really liked the you behind everything. And I don’t even mind the freaking Lion King calendar! I’ve been using it for everything. I know this seems weird or whatever, but I want somebody to love me, but every time I think of whose out there, Finn or Sam or Jesse, you’re the only one I can stand the thought of being with, like all the time!”
Rachel still has that same flustered confusion across her face, and it is really not helping Quinn’s confidence.
“I - I know I’m screwed up and - and a bitch, but it’s like you look at me and see more than just the pretty wannabe prom queen. When you looked at me during prom, not just in the bathroom, but afterwards, I felt like I had possibilities and - and hope for the first time in how long. You smiled at me and it was enough. I want you, even if it’s just a friend. But I want more. And I think, with you by my side, I can be more than what I am now. With you, high school won’t be the greatest years of my life, because the future will be so much better.”
She’s still so close to Rachel’s face, close enough that her breath, deep and fast in her nervousness, is mingling with Rachel’s. Close enough to easily see the tears pool in her eyes and spill over, just as hers have done. And she’s smart enough to know what that means.
With a deep, sad swallow, Quinn begins to move away.
With that first movement, though, the first sign of retreat, Rachel snaps forward, throwing her arms around Quinn in a fast, strong hug.
Quinn moves to return the hug, no longer sure what is going on, when Rachel pulls away, just far enough to look her in the eyes.
“I’m going to kiss you know,” she warns, giving her just enough time to protest before she is moving forward again, this time much slower. Much more hesitant.
Quinn meets her halfway.
She doesn’t know what to expect. Despite the rumors that Santana and Brittany’s little lovefest have cause, she’s never kissed a girl before. She’s heard Puck talk about it, might’ve even made some snarky remarks to egg him on more, and heard that Rachel was a really good kisser, even if she does bite sometimes.
He didn’t do it justice.
If kissing Finn was familiar and fun, sparking fireworks and reminding her of better times, Rachel was…sinfully good. This was not familiar and safe, comfortable and innocent.
This was dangerous.
This was so good.
Honestly, it’s mostly innocent. Rachel is quick, though, and before Quinn knows it, she’s on her back with Rachel on top of her.
A couch has never been more comfortable.
Her hand makes its way into brunette hair, think and soft, and she feels warm lips move to her neck and then nothing.
Her own confused eyes, still lost in a foggy haze, look up at Rachel staring down at her.
“Okay,” Rachel mutters to herself, still straddling Quinn, “Yeah, this will work.”
“Yeah?” Quinn asks, working through the fog.
Rachel smirks confidently at her.
“Yeah.”
****
Jesse looks over at the clock again, pouting. Rachel should have been back an hour ago at the latest. The basement was nice and everything - it had fantastic acoustics - but he was hungry.
She was supposed to let him out.
God, who had locks on their basement, anyways.
He hopes Rachel isn’t mad at him when she gets back. He didn’t mean to knock over the plant.
He thought he saw a spider and was trying to kill it, but now there was dirt all over the floor.
He doesn’t know how to clean it up - and cleaning is certainly beneath him anyways - so now there was stupid dirt all over his living space.
With a grunt, he gave up glaring at the door and went back to lay down on the couch and take power nap.
He deserved it after all.
Maybe he’d indulge in another shower afterwards. But only if Rachel still failed to bring him some supper.