A/N- Hello again. As always thank you for the wonderful reviews. A big thank you to executime my muse and partner in crime and mschfmngd for being a fabulously quick beta. Enjoy.

Chapter 8

Who Wants To Play 20 Million Questions?

Rachel's POV

It's Thursday night and I'm lying restless in bed. I'm particularly restless because to put it bluntly, I'm painfully aroused.

This is all entirely, completely, Quinn's fault.

As if it wasn't bad enough that I've been in a near constant state of arousal around Quinn since we met properly in the library last week, today has been particularly taxing on my overly sensitised body.

By now everyone at school knows that there is something going on between Quinn and I. Gossip spreads fast. Particularly if it concerns Quinn Fabray, one of the most sort after people in school. People notice her; actually, most purposefully look out for her. So when Quinn and I are practically inseparable between classes, it doesn't go unnoticed. Neither do the flirty looks we exchange, or our general inability to maintain the boundaries of personal space. The general response from people seems to be confusion, everyone is wondering why Quinn Fabray is with the school's resident pariah. However, in a strange turn of events, it's actually starting to improve my popularity, or at least people aren't ignoring me so much. Most are just curious on what it is about me that has captured the attention of the mysterious blonde. Others talk to me because they want to know what it's like to be with Quinn.

I'm getting cocky. Suddenly my dreams have come true, and instead of just being one of the masses fawning over Quinn from a distance, I have her to myself. It was me. I was the first one that Quinn ever showed an interest in, and I love that I can lay claim to her. So when people ask me "What's it like being with Quinn?" I often reply with a dreamy "It's hot", or occasionally "Better than you can possibly imagine", or sometimes I just wink suggestively and walk away.

I even began to pre-emptively guess that people would ask me about Quinn.

"Excuse me-"

"It's amazing. I can't believe how lucky I am to have Quinn Fabray. She's perfect. I will marry her one day." I gush with a huge smile on my face.

"Actually I was going to ask if I could borrow some paper."

"Oh." I blush. "Yeah, sure."

I'm not lying. It is hot and it is better than I ever imagined. No one, other than my Dads, is so good to me and considerate. She even asked me out tomorrow night to go see a production of The Sound of Music at the theatre because she remembered me saying it was one of my all-time favourites. This is the kind of thing that makes me think Quinn is the perfect woman…but when I'm gushing about how amazing Quinn is, I tend leave out the part about it all being unbelievably sexually frustrating.

Everyone thinks I'm sleeping with Quinn and they envy me. I envy me, except I envy the me that people think is worthy of being envied, I envy the rumour of me...that makes my head hurt. I'm with her, but I'm not with her in all the ways that would define me as being with her…that's not making my head any better. Urgh! This is so frustrating!

I like her, she likes me, so we should be together…but we're not, for no other reason than Quinn's secrecy and some warped sense of nobility. I'm almost at the point of dropping to my knees and begging her to tell me, and then begging her to relieve the constant ache between my thighs.

Today was as if I never came down from my arousal from yesterday. The predatory look in Quinn's eyes from last night was a near permanent expression all day. It somehow made everything heightened; every glance in my direction, every fleeting touch, every breathy word seemed to spread more moisture between my thighs. In return I couldn't tear my eyes away from Quinn, every movement seemed more sensual; the way she would drink a bottle of water, pressing her lips to the opening, tilting her head up exposing that delicate kissable neck as she swallowed. The way she peeled off her cardigan when she got too hot, exposing inch after inch of gloriously soft, pale skin that I wanted to explore with my fingers, lips and tongue. The way she would lick her soft, perfect lips as she eyed me made me think of that mouth doing delicious, filthy, sensual, sinful, un-godly things to my body. I would be squirming in her presence trying to quell the throbbing of my core as my thoughts spiralled down to the most sordid images I had no idea I could conjure. And it was like she knew, as if she could read the thoughts behind my eyes because her piercing gaze would get impossibly darker, her jaw would lock, her hands would reach out to grip on any stable object within reach as if she was holding herself back from doing all the things that my mind was begging her for. Every look from her, every charged moment between us was pushing me closer to something I couldn't quite achieve. But if anyone was capable of causing me to spontaneously orgasm without touching me, it would be Quinn. She doesn't even have to try and I'm already trembling with need.

More than once today I very seriously contemplated escaping to a bathroom to relieve the tortuous ache with a quick, hot release by my own hand. It would not be the first time I had brought myself to orgasm while thinking of Quinn doing it for me. Ever since Quinn came to this school she had always been my go-to lead star in my fantasies. Now I was closer than ever to those fantasies becoming a reality and my mind has been running rampant with scenarios that I hope to soon be living out for real very soon.

Images of Quinn and I ravenously fucking in every position imaginable suddenly flash across my eyes, and I squirm as my core painfully throbs with need. I can't wait any longer.

Without preamble I shove my hand under my sleep shorts and plunge two fingers into my soaking heat. "Mmm, oh God." No foreplay required, the whole day has been God damn torturous foreplay. I need my release and I need it now. My fingers fall quickly into all too familiar movements. I thrust hard and fast just like I need Quinn to do to me right now. "Oh fuck, Quinn. Uuh, mmm…God." She's got me pinned against a wall; her fingers bypassed my panties and are stroking me at a punishing pace. I tug her mouth to mine and kiss her desperately, needy, hungrily. She tastes so good, her mouth is like heaven. I can't get enough of her lips, and I press her impossibly closer and alternate taking each lip between my own. She swipes at my bottom lip with her tongue, demanding entry, I grant it willingly and I moan out at the first touch of her tongues. Suddenly her fingers are gone from my heat and I whimper before she plunges back in with three. "Fuck! Quinn!" I cling to her as my knees give way under the overwhelming pleasure pulsing through me. Her fingers are hitting that one wonderful, glorious spot with each thrust. I'm approaching something amazing much faster than before. I'm dizzy with pleasure, panting into Quinn's mouth as she fucks me hard. "Oh God! Quinn- uh – I'm so, I'm so close. Oh fuck!" She pulls her head back just enough to look me in the eyes, her eyes are clear and study me predatorily, I almost come from the look alone, she presses her thumb to my clit and I'm undone. My hips buck wildly into her hand and I scream out her name as I come. My body shakes uncontrollably as wave after wave of rippling pleasure washes over me. "Mmmmmm," I sigh out contented as my body is still lost in pleasure.

I open my eyes to find myself alone in my room, my sleep shorts ruined. "Fuck." I breathe out and close my eyes again. It's almost embarrassing how quickly I came, but I was already so close to the edge. It was like a release after a week's worth of foreplay, it was never going to take much. Even now that the burning need has been sated, I'm still left feeling incredibly aroused. I could probably go for rounds two and three with my own hands as I picture Quinn making love to me sensually, but I want the real thing so much more. I very seriously contemplate calling her and begging her to come over and do just that. Could she hold out if I told her I just screamed her name while I came, that I'm still aching for her touch, and that I need her naked body pressed against mine? Or would she be climbing through my window within minutes? I'm almost positive with the way she's been looking at me today that it wouldn't take more than a few breathy words to get her to snap. Which is why I chuck the phone (that had somehow made its way into my hands) away from me and climb out of bed. I can't go back to sleep like this, I can't call her, and I refuse to take a cold shower. So I change into my work-out clothes and sneak out of the house to go running, in the hope of exhausting myself enough to sleep.

Quinn's POV

"Tough day at school, Quinnie?" My mother's mockingly cheery voice reaches me as I walk in the living room practically trembling with tension.

"Don't start, Mum. This is all your fault." I growl, feeling beyond frustrated with my mother's antics. I throw myself face first onto the couch.

"No, sweetie. This is your fault. I just don't understand why you're doing this to yourself and Rachel. It's obvious that she likes you, Quinn."

I turn my head to the side so my mother doesn't just hear me mumbling into the cushion. "I know she likes me now. I'm worried about her not liking me when she finds out the truth."

"You're being ridiculous, Quinnie. She's not going anywhere."

"Yeah? How do you know?" I hiss. My temper is on a short lease that's about to snap. I'm wound so tight from keeping myself in check all day that the last thing I need is a lecture from my mother who is the cause of my increased frustrations. She should really tread carefully. My mother sighs and pushes my legs to the side so she can sit down on the couch with me.

"You're right I don't know for sure, but I see the way she looks at you, Quinn, she adores you. You need to have a little faith in her."

"I need…I need more time." I sigh out weakly. I feel my mother's posture stiffen on the couch beside me.

"How much more time do you need exactly? What are you waiting for? For her to say, 'by the way if you happen to be an alien, I still want to be with you'?" Her voice rises in exasperation.

"Well that would be nice." I huff out a humourless laugh.

"You're delusional, Quinn!" She snaps. My temper's gone. I angrily whip round to face her.

"I'm shit scared of losing her, Mum! You have no idea what it's like to worry about your mate not accepting you for who you are, no Caelen does. So don't judge me. Don't you dare judge me!" I get off the couch and make to leave before I stop again. "I want my nose plugs back." I demand in a flat tone. She huffs and reaches into her pocket before shoving a familiar feeling item into my hand. I proceed to storm upstairs.

I pace my room feeling so utterly frustrated about everything. The angrier I get the more I crave Rachel. The more I need to hold her in my arms, the more I need her comforting presence, the more I need to make her mine so I can properly relax with her. I glance down at the phone that has suddenly appeared in my hand. I could call her. No I shouldn't. I should not under any circumstances be tempted to go to her, not in the state I'm in. I would have her pinned on her bed in an instant.

I throw my phone onto the bed and start pacing again. I sit, my leg jiggles, I stand, and I'm pacing again. I'm fine, I'm totally okay. I can handle this. I'm not going to go to Rachel. I'm going to stay right here. I sit. See, I'm fine. I can sit still if I want.

Your leg's still jiggling.

It's a twitch.

It's pent-up sexual tension.

It's under control.

Maybe you should stop thinking about Rachel.

I'm trying.

You're hopeless.

I need to get out of here.

The moment it gets dark I don my suit and I'm gone. I'm running from the pain of my past, I'm running from my own cowardliness, I'm running off my fears, I'm running off my sexual frustrations. My feet pound out my tension into the ground stride after stride until it's just me and the rhythmic movement of my body, and the slow burn of my tiring muscles. I run full pelt as far as I can, I'm out of Lima…past Findlay…I keep going until a large body of water stops me - Lake Erie. It's a hundred miles gone in a matter of minutes. I'm out of breath as I gaze across the dark body of water that stretches for miles. My legs ache in an amazingly satisfying way. I can't remember the last time I felt like my body had had a proper work out, it feels incredible. I suck in lung-fills of fresh air as my body gradually slows and calms.

It's beautiful and tranquil here. The stars shine down on the water, giving it a beautiful ghostly glow. I take off my mask and sit at the water's edge listening to the gentle waves lapping, and clear my mind of everything. I meditate. It's a common Caelen practise and I should do this more often. I need to clear my mind. No Caelum war, no deaths, no pain, no mating bonds, it's just me and the sound of the waves. A gentle breeze washes over me; I inhale the fresh air, and let my body relax. All the tension seems to drain away with a retreating wave.

I don't know how long I sit there as the stars track across the sky, but it's long enough for me to feel totally at peace. I gaze out at the body of water that seems to beckon me. I know what I want to do. I press the switch on the collar of my suit and I feel the familiar humming of life. I stand looking determinedly out across the water. Time to fly.

I take a run up. A few sprinting strides and dive into the air. I close my eyes waiting for the inevitable splash, but it doesn't come. I open my eyes and see water rushing a couple of feet beneath me at tremendous speed. "Holy shit!" I easily bank and turn and sway as I fly over the rippling blanket below me. I've never felt more in tune with this suit. Every movement feels effortless.

I bank sharply up soaring straight into the night's sky. My vision fixed on the stars above me as I rocket up and up. The air rushes past me, whooshing past my ears, making my eyes water. I've never felt so alive, so free. My smile threatens to burst my face. My excitement can no longer be contained.

"Whaoooooohooo!" I scream at the top of my lungs as I reach new dizzying heights.

I'm a child dreaming of touching the stars, and I'm right there.

I slow my ascent before the air gets too thin, and hover on my back, clasping my arms behind my head as my eyes scan the twinkling lights above me. My world is out there somewhere, but I think I have a pretty good one right here. I certainly don't mind staying. I look back down at the glowing towns and cities, buzzing with life and activity. Somewhere down there is my mate, better yet, the woman I love. No, this world definitely isn't so bad. I smile.

I dive back towards the earth. I'm picking up speed. Faster and faster. I see the large black body of Lake Erie spreading wider and wider across my field of view. I decide to play chicken with myself.

Pull up.

No.

Pull up now!

No!

Pull up or you'll die!

Okay.

At the very last second I change direction, causing waves to splash out in a rippling circle from the air pressure. I skim close to the water, close enough for me to dip and trail my hand through the cold wetness. I laugh, feeling preposterously giddy.

I fly most of the way home, making the most of the suit. I stop at the outskirts of the Lima and switch it off, and take to my usual methods of travel. I'm passing through one of the local parks and I spot a small, feminine figure jogging round a small lake. It's late, very late, and I wonder why a young woman would be so blasé about the very real danger of running alone at night in a secluded area. I realise that is kind of what I'm doing, but I know that I'm more than capable of handling anything that could come my way. That's what I do.

I jump from branch to branch to get closer and keep an eye on her. I even contemplate giving her a word of warning.

…Wait a second…

Rachel! What the hell are you doing out here?

I don't know whether to consider myself lucky that I manage to find Rachel in these dangerous situations, or unlucky because she manages to get herself into these situations in the first place. I send a quick thank you to whatever deity is out there that Rachel is in no immediate danger and jump down to reprimand her for scaring the living crap out of me.

Rachel POV

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!" I scream. It's one of those natural body responses to suddenly being scared shitless. Evolutionary speaking, it's a wonderful ability women (and some men) possess in order to alert others of being in danger, and also to hopefully surprise the attacker. The other night this particular reflex failed me, but tonight my extensive vocal range and lung capacity exceptionally enhance this defence mechanism to the point of hurting my own ears. But I don't care about that because for the second (or is it third?) time this week something has jumped in front of me in the dark.

This time I don't hesitate as I skid to a stop, my hand reaching to the ground to steady me, I scramble back to my feet and bolt in the opposite direction. My heart is hammering in my chest, the adrenaline coursing through my system giving a boost to my already tired muscles as I sprint as fast as I can towards any kind of safety.

My head whips round to check to see if I'm being pursued and I see no sign of the figure. I don't know whether to be relieved or worried that I can't see it. My head whips to the front again in time to see the figure in front of me before I crash into it and we both go tumbling to the ground. I hear a surprisingly feminine "Omph!" before my self-defence classes kick in and I role on top of my attacker and pin them down. It's shockingly easy to get the upper hand and I then look down at my attacker to find out why they're not putting up any resistance.

"YOU!" I shout, staring at the familiar mask of the vigilante. "You scared the SHIT out of me!" I'm relieved, but exasperated. My heart is still thudding hard in my chest and my breathing is ragged. "Were you trying to give me a heart attack?"

I get a rather sheepish head shake from the vigilante.

"Are you sorry?"

She nods emphatically.

"Good. You should feel bad. You shouldn't just jump out of the dark like that. I should get you a bell or something if you're going to refuse to use your voice to alert people of your presence like normal people." Her body shakes under me in almost silent laughter. The movement brings my attention to our rather compromising position in a sudden wave of pleasure that rips a small whimper from my throat as her convulsing torso connects with my still overly sensitised core. Damn Quinn for making me so aroused.

The vigilante's laughter ceases abruptly and I swear her eyes are boring into mine from behind that mask. I blush profusely and I'm about to get up before I'm hurled onto my back on the soft grass. Instead of straddling the vigilante, she's now pressed firmly between my thighs from above me. I can't stop the moan that escapes without my permission. I can't believe I'm reduced to this horny mess that gets pleasure wherever I can find it. I'm humiliated. I just want the ground to open beneath me and swallow me whole. I'm glad I can't see the expression under the mask because I'm sure it's a look of disgust. But she doesn't move, doesn't untangle herself from me to get away. She stays firmly pressed against me while looking at me intently. I get déjà vu as my mind flips to Quinn, I'm not sure if it's the familiarity of the position or familiarity of the intensity of the moment that has my heart pounding in my chest again but-

"Hey, you! Get off of her right now!" The deep voice of a man startles us both. Our heads whip round to see a middle aged man in slippers, jeans and a bathrobe pointing a shotgun at us, or more specifically, the vigilante. "I said get off of her!", he yells angrily.

Slowly, very slowly, she gets to her feet her, hands in the air. The man follows her moves with the barrel of the gun. He looks scared and a little twitchy, his finger hovering dangerously closer to the trigger. I have to intervene.

"No! Wait, please! Don't hurt her!" I get to my feet and put myself between her and him.

"Get out of the way, kid. I don't want you to get hurt." He says firmly not moving his eyes from the woman behind me.

"She didn't do anything wrong! Please put the gun down."

"I heard you scream. I come running from my house and see this thing pinning you to the ground. Something looks pretty fucking wrong to me. You, get on your knees!" He yells at the vigilante. I feel her hand on me as she gently pushes me to the side as she gets down to her knees. "Keep your hands off her! I'm warning you."

"I screamed because I was startled. She wasn't hurting me, I swear. She saved my life the other day. She wouldn't hurt me.", I say in the most level tone I can manage.

"That may be the case, but this thing has been on the news. And I bet the police would like to have a word with it when they get here. So stand aside, miss."

For a mere moment, he takes his eyes off her and pins them on me. This is apparently all she needed. In a blur of movement the gun is no longer in his hands, and she is dismantling it, chucking the shotgun shells in the lake before handing the gun back to him with a pat on the shoulder. The man just has a stunned expression on his face.

"See, she doesn't mean any harm. Thank you for coming to save me, by the way. That was very brave of you." I say with a smile as I hold my hand out to her and we take off running just as sirens can be heard.

I try to ignore the tingles in my hand as I hold her thinly gloved one. I have no idea what to make of that yet so I keep running. Once we reached some cover, she scoops me up and we're racing in the direction of my house at impossible speed. Jumping through my bedroom she deposits me rather unceremoniously on my feet. She looks suddenly very tense. She points to me, then out the window, then taps her wrist, and then firmly shakes her head. I take that to mean 'You. Out there. This time. No.'

"I couldn't sleep", is my lame excuse. She throws her arms up in frustration. She gestures angrily back out the window then slices her hand through the air as she shakes her head again. I take that as 'Out there. NO.'. It's like talking to a mute Tarzan.

"Well, I was fine until you showed up." I huff with my hands on my hips not appreciating being treated like a child. She drops her head and shakes it before she turns to leave.

"Wait! I have so many questions. Are you really an alien or are there some…medications you're supposed to be taking?" She shakes her head again and continues to climb out the window.

"No, please, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. It was rude. Can you tell me if there is some way to contact you?"

Head shake.

"But how can I see you again?" She hops on to a branch of the tree outside my window and ignores my question. I have to think fast. "If you don't meet me again tomorrow night, I'll spend all night wandering the streets of Lima alone looking for you. Who knows what could happen to me."

She pauses. That got her attention. She turns back.

"My parents are away tomorrow night, so meet me back here when it gets dark." She stares at me a long while before bounding onto next door's rooftop and disappearing into the darkness.

Was that a yes or a no?

Quinn's POV

It's been about a two minutes into our drive to school and Rachel has been unusually quiet. She's not even singing along to the radio, I miss that.

"So how was your night, Rach?" I'm waiting for her to inevitably start gushing about how she saw the vigilante again.

She shrugs. "It was okay. How about you?" Okay? Just okay? Um where's the detail, Rach?

"Err…it was fine. So you didn't do anything last night?" I probe.

"I did my homework, watched movies, and went to bed. Not much to report." Why is she lying? I was her stake-out buddy and everything; I thought she would be sharing this stuff with me. I try a different tactic.

"Right. So are we still on for tonight?"

"Tonight?" she asks absently. So she did forget. Ithought it was odd she asked to meet the vigilante the same night we're supposed to be going out on what I thought would be our first date. I know we're not together properly, but I didn't see the harm in showing her what it could be like once we are together. I was going to go all out for this, dinner, theatre, then maybe a leisurely stroll as we just bask in each other's company afterwards. Was I the only one who was excited for this?

"Yeah 'The Sound of Music', remember? I was thinking we could get some dinner beforehand at this great vegan restaurant on the way." The look of shock realisation and utter remorse on her face didn't do anything to make me feel better about it. The big question now is what is she going to do?

Her hands fly up to her face as she turns in her seat to face me. "Quinn! Oh my God, I'm so sorry. It completely slipped my mind." I swallow the little bit of hurt I feel. "Oh my God! OH MY GOD!"

"Relax, it's okay. I mean we're still good to go, right?" The well of hope inside me is bigger than she imagines. She has a choice. Go with me tonight and blow off the vigilante, or blow me off in the hope of meeting the vigilante again. Behind my eyes I'm begging her to choose me.

"I…um…I…" I can see her mind racing, she's weighing up the decision right now running the pros and cons. "Quinn I…" suddenly a look of resolution settles on her face (decision made), along with a look of guilt…directed at me. My heart plummets, I already know the answer, and it isn't me. "Quinn, I'm so sorry…I don't think I can tonight…maybe-"

"Forget about it, Rachel. It's fine." It's not fine. Not even close to fine. My mouth tastes bitter.

"I really wanted to-"

"I said it's fine." I snap silencing Rachel. She flinches. I didn't mean to snap at her, but I'm too hurt right now to take it back.

The rest of the drive to school is silent. I see Rachel keep glancing at me from the corner of my eye as if she's about to say something but never does.

The day is a bit of a blur for me. I still meet Rachel at all our usual times, but I'm lacking my usual cheer. She tries hard to make me smile, and I make weak attempts to appease her a little. Not only am I hurt that she chose the vigilante over me, but I'm also kicking myself because it's my fault anyway. Firstly for not having the guts to tell her about me in the first place, secondly for not thinking about the repercussions of letting her see me as the vigilante again, and thirdly for letting the primal part of me get the best of me last night when I smelt her arousal. I shouldn't have acted like that. That was a mistake. I made things worse.

I have never felt so jealous of myself than I do right now. I can't stop my mind from wondering, why was she aroused with the vigilante in the first place? I knew it was her but she didn't know it was me. What does this mean? Is it something to do with the bond? And if not, does this mean she could easily be with someone else? Of course she could. She's human; humans can have relationships with multiple partners before settling down.

But I want her to settle down with me. What if she thinks she's too young to settle? What if she wants to explore her options? Can I cope with that?

You're getting ahead of yourself. She blew off one date, we can have another one. Plus, she didn't blow you off for someone else; she blew you off for you.

This is so messed up.

Tell me about it.

If I don't show up as the vigilante tonight, will she let it go and come back to me?

Maybe. But what about her threat to go wandering the streets?

I'll keep an eye on her just in case, but I won't show myself.

This is needlessly complicated. You should just tell her everything.

I'm not ready. I'm not…strong enough to deal with the rejection.

If you wait too long, rejection is more likely.

I know…just I know, okay. Just leave it for now, please?

Fine.

Thank you.

The drive back to her house at the end of the day is quiet again. Ms Sylvester's taunts are still ringing in my ears. They got to me today instead of rolling off like usual. "You're a pathetic waste of space, Fabray." "I know why you won't join my squad, it's because you're a coward. You hear me, Fabray? You're a coward!" "Why would anyone want you, anyway?"

Rachel hasn't even told me about her new Glee assignment. Things are awkward, and it's my fault. I pull into her driveway and turn the engine off. I want to say something but I don't know what. The silence drags for a couple of beats. Rachel takes a long breath, turns to me and opens her mouth, "…" and closes it again. She sighs. "Thank you for the lift, Quinn."

"Always", I say sincerely. She gets out of the car and heads towards her front door. Her shoulders are slumped, and she carries none of her usual Rachel-Berry-future-Broadway-star air.

Don't leave it like this, Quinn.

I'm out of the car in a flash.

"Rachel!" She turns back to me, her eyes a little hopeful. I close the distance between us and pull her into a tight embrace. She immediately squeezes me back just as tight and buries her face into the crook of my neck. "I'm sorry, Rachel. I'm sorry for being in such a foul mood today. I'm sorry for overreacting like that." I'm very confused when I feel Rachel laughing against me.

"Why are you apologising? That's supposed to be me, you numpty." She says pulling away enough to look at me. "I'm the one who forgot about our date – it was a date wasn't it?" I nod. "Right I'm the one who forgot and made other plans that I can't really back out of, and you're apologising for being hurt?" she says disbelievingly. "You're unbelievable, Quinn." She smiles up at me adoringly. "You have no idea how much I regret not having our date tonight, and not just because I'm missing The Sound of Music revival. I really want to be with you, Quinn. And considering how charming you are day to day, I can only imagine what you would be like on an actual date. You might have to carry me home because I'll probably be jelly from swooning too much." I smirk.

"So what's stopping you from a night of swooning?"

"If I told you, you would probably try to talk me out of it." This is true.

"Is it dangerous?" I ask only because this is what I would ask if I didn't know exactly what she was trying to do tonight.

"I don't think so." Her tone is sure.

"So if I would try and stop you, why are you doing it?"

"Curiosity. You know what I'm like when I'm curious." Her smile is playful. Curiosity? Curious to see what it's like with someone else? My insecurities are obviously playing up.

"Is it um…is it someone else?"

"Not in the romantic sense, no. Trust me. No one could hold a candle to you. You are the only one I want. You know that right?" No one could hold a candle to me except maybe myself. Am I still worried? Yes.

"I guess I do now."

"Good. So, um…tonight were you planning on telling me something?" I wasn't but for some reason I feel the need to torment her a little bit with the possibility.

"Maybe", I say mysteriously. "Thinking about changing your mind? You still can." Oh that is low, Fabray. That is a dirty trick and you should be ashamed. I'm ashamed to be associated with you.

Well tough, you have no choice. Besides, if she does change her mind maybe I will tell her.

…Okay, run with it. Go on. Milk it for all it's worth.

I bring my hand up and brush some strands of hair out of her face, taking my time to run my hand through that gorgeously soft silky hair, before resting my hand on the nape of her neck and lightly caress the back of her neck with my fingers. I feel her shiver pleasantly. She closes her eyes for a moment.

"Mmm, I'm definitely considering it."

I drop my voice lower, accentuating the breathy quality. "Well consider fine dining, candle light, good company, engaging conversation," I drawl out slowly as I bring my forehead to rest against hers gently, "then an invigorating show of one of the greatest musicals of all time. Where I get the chance to sit back and watch your eyes light up in excitement, watch you mouth along to all the songs, see every emotion mirrored in your own expression…at least that's what I'm looking forward to. Then afterwards maybe an evening stroll under starlight where things are comfortable and…open between us. And if you're comfortable with what you hear, then maybe…"

"Maybe…?"

"A kiss."

"A kiss?"

"It is our first date. I think a kiss would be appropriate. One of those earth-shattering, knee-weakening, mind-blowing kisses."

"Just the one?"

"We can play it by ear."

"How about a preview?"

"A preview?"

"Yeah you know, a short preliminary showing to give me an idea of what the main event will be like. Something to keep me interested, keep me hanging in anticipation."

"Are you saying you're not interested and anticipating it now?"

"Oh I definitely am. That's why I want a little taster."

"Isn't that teasing?"

"The best kind of teasing."

"If that's what you want."

"It is."

"Okay then." Her breath catches in anticipation. I see her eyes dart straight to my lips, she wets hers. I draw the moment out as I try to give myself some mental preparation.

Careful, Quinn. You can very easily lose control here.

I know.

You have to be brief.

I know.

Don't let her take control.

I won't.

It's going to be good but you must resist. Like one lick of an ice-cream. Savour it but don't go in for more.

I won't.

Short and sweet. You can do this, Quinn.

I can do this.

It's like a coach giving a pep talk to a boxer before the next round. I feel like I should be limbering up, doing some stretches, practising my footwork making sure my movements will be swift, but it might ruin the mood if I start jigging on the spot and using her as a support for some hamstring stretches. Instead I go for the bobsleigh driver approach and picture the movements in my mind. Go in slow, pull back quick. Go in 90%, wait for her 10%, kiss, then pull back. Emphasis on the pull back.

You can do this.

I can do this.

Don't you dare roll your shoulders, that's not sexy.

I wasn't going to.

Yes you were.

Well I won't now.

Good.

So…

So…

…

Well…Kiss her!

Right!

I catch her eyes and hold them as I lean into her. My eyes fall to her lips as the distance closes. I try not to dwell on how amazing her lips will feel against mine because it will only make this harder for me. I bring my lean to a stop a mere two inches from her lips. The tiniest of smirks tug at both our lips for a moment before we forget entirely what was amusing. The air between us crackles familiarly. I think I feel her trembling in my arms. This moment should be bigger. I know it. This is about to be our first kiss and yet I'm going to restrain myself in the moment? This feels wrong. I want to kiss her and be able to let go, get lost in the feel of her lips, get lost in her. I want to feel completely wrecked by her. I know the moment her lips touch mine she will destroy me, and I want to let her. But this isn't the right moment for that. Besides this kiss is out of manipulation because I want her to change her mind and pick me, that's not right.

So as she moves in 5% of her 10%, I veer off to the side and place a lingering kiss on her cheek instead. As I pull back, I catch her eyes. I see confusion flash first, then chagrin, then vexation, then complete and utter exasperation.

"What the hell was that?"

"A short teaser."

"I asked for a preview. That was like a poster on a bus that was travelling too fast to see it properly."

"Well I didn't want to ruin our first kiss with spoilers." Her face contorts in frustration and she hits my shoulder with some force.

"Urgh! Quinn, you are impossible. I hate you so much right now."

"No you don't."

"Yes I do!"

"You may want to, but you don't. So our date tonight?"

"Not happening. And not just because I'm mad at you right now, but because I honestly need to do this other thing tonight." Okay maybe I deserve that, but it doesn't stop the hurt feeling from surfacing again.

"Were you actually considering coming on the date tonight?"

"You were definitely tempting me. But we can do it another night right? I can't do this other thing another night. I may never get a second chance at this." Her eyes plead with me for understanding. The primal side of me wants to tie her up so she can only ever be mine, but the rational, logical, mature and loving side of me knows that I have to let this slide. Rachel is on a mission and she won't be happy with the 'what ifs' if she comes with me tonight instead of waiting for the vigilante. I sigh out in resignation.

"Yeah, another night then." I put on my best smile. She eyes me sceptically.

"Are you really okay with that?"

"I'm as okay as I can be I suppose. Am I disappointed? Of course, but I understand to some extent that this is important to you and I don't want to take you away from that." This is all true and it is reflected in the tone of my voice. Rachel's eyes scan my face, drinking in the sincerity written on it. Then she pulls me tight into her arms.

"Thank you, Quinn." She whispers. "You are incredible, you know that? You're a bigger person than me. If I had asked you out and organised the date, I would be dragging you on it by force by now." I chuckle.

"Well to be honest, I did contemplate it." I smile, it's genuine this time. "And I think I better go before I contemplate it again." I think I'm only half joking. I untangle myself from her warm embrace. "Call me if you need anything, Rach. I'll always be there for you." Her face lights up.

"I will."

"See you later."

"Bye, Quinn."

It's dark before I want it to be. I think this is the only time I've cursed the darkness for coming early. I'm already in my suit. I'm going to Rachel's but I'm fighting an internal moral battle. The selfish and jealous side of me wants to make sure the Rachel doesn't fall for the vigilante so it doesn't want me to show myself. But the part of me that loves Rachel and wants to make her happy, wants to satisfy her curiosity. Before these two sides can finish arguing over the right thing to do, it's dark and I have to leave.

I slink through the darkness, moving as the wind gusts through the trees helping to conceal me. I see Rachel's bedroom light on as I approach the house. It beckons me into the warm interior, into the place I feel most at home because everything is Rachel's and it surrounds me like a comforting blanket. My eyes are drawn to Rachel's silhouette as she moves past the window. Her shadow is perfection of the feminine form, soft curves and dips so natural, so ethereal. I daydream of exploring every inch of those soft, gentle curves with my hands. My memory flashes to the morning I woke up with her in my arms, those beautiful curves pressed against my body, the silky smoothness of her skin under my fingertips, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her chest and being so utterly content like I had never experienced in my life. I wish that moment could have lasted forever; I miss it desperately. If I ever have that chance again, I'll cherish it, bask in it, dwell in it, soak up everything that moment can give me and hold it tight. That to me is happiness, it's bliss, and the only thing in the universe I would ever ask for if I only had one wish.

I nestle myself into my tree. It's my tree now I'm so familiar with it. I hide myself amongst the branches and the darkness, and settle myself in to watch over Rachel before I make up my mind. As the minutes tick by and the night settles in, the activity in her room slows. Her window is open in invitation; she had been occasionally glancing out of it in expectation as she busied herself in the room. Doing what? I don't know. The hopeful glances became more frequent until she turned off her bedroom light so that she could sit by the window and look into the darkness properly. She was waiting now. The only thing she was doing was sitting and waiting. The moonlight lit up her face in a ghostly pale glow, and her expressions seemed enhanced by the low light. She looked a mixture between excited, hopeful, determined, and as the minutes maybe an hour ticked by she still looked hopeful but less expectant, saddened, and increasingly disheartened. I hated seeing her like that. Part of me screamed at me to go to her, to comfort her and give her what she wanted, anything to take those emotions away, but I sat refusing to move. The jealousy over the joy the vigilante could bring to her now kept me firmly planted.

Fate, it seemed, had other plans. As I sat, moulded to the branches and trunk of the tree, I was pressed firmly against the rough, broken bark. The insects residing in and on the tree began to see me as an addition to the tree itself, and used me as their own personal climbing frame. I felt reasonably well covered by my suit and at least thought that they couldn't penetrate inside. We had bugs and creepy crawlies on Caelen too, obviously, and I was quite used to being in environments where they resided. In covert operations I would often have to sit completely still in the most dark, damp and insect-infested environments to complete my missions. I became quite accustomed to the bugs on Caelen and knew they wouldn't bother me if I didn't bother them. However, there is one particular creature on Earth that does not resemble any of the creatures on Caelen. Its movements are unique and make it stand out against others. Whether slow or quick, this creature fills me with irrational fear. It is quite possibly the most unfriendly looking of all creepy crawlies and it never fails to fill me with unease.

The spider. It's evolutionary perfect. Its form and function hasn't changed for over 200 million years, and it hasn't needed to. They are one of the oldest and well adapted species on the planet and they know it. It's in their slow, superior walk as each of its legs rises and falls with perfect execution of precision. Its ability to intimidate many humans and even an alien with super abilities is uncanny. So when I feel the familiar slow creep of pointed legs over my shoulder, I freeze. I stop breathing as absolute dread seeps deep into me. An almost silent squeak of fear escapes me as my peripheral vision picks up dark spindly legs as long as my fingers, feeling their way over my shoulder heading down to my chest. I do everything I can to suppress my scream as a proportionally sized body follows the legs hovering a mere centimetre above my suit. When it pauses above my breast and changes direction head for my neck, I can't take it anymore. With a slow, smooth movement, I line my hand up to where it currently resides and tilt my head up to give me room. In one quick swipe and reflexive jump, I propel the spider off me into the darkness below. My additional residual twitchiness has me swatting frantically at the rest of my body, swiping at all the other insects. I'm on my feet desperately trying to rid myself of any unwanted stowaways. I'm balancing on one leg as I spot another smaller arachnid clinging to my waist. This time my wild swing at it throws off my balance and I fall from the branch, catching myself at the last second on another lower down, but it's too late. I've been spotted.

"You came!" Rachel yells excitedly. I look up at her surprised and happy expression from my dangling position on the branch. Shit!

I haul myself swiftly onto my feet on the branch I'm hanging from. I consider making a run for it.

"Please come in. I'm so glad you're here." She looks so genuinely happy I can't deny her. I curse my stupidity and I curse spiders as I hop into her bedroom. I bring myself to full height once I'm inside, bracing myself for whatever comes next. She doesn't make a move to turn on the light and just stares at me in the moonlight. Her eyes trace my mask and my form unabashedly. She looks awestruck.

"Wow," she breathes out. "The, um, the moonlight suits you." She says bashfully. "Well, I mean the suit. Well, you and the suit. You look…impressive." I can't help but draw my shoulders a little straighter at the compliment. My ego seems to like being stroked. She looks a little flustered, and runs a hand through her hair nervously. She looks unbelievably cute right now. "I-I wrote down some questions I wanted to ask you, if that's okay. I promise I won't tell another soul about it, it's just to satisfy my own curiosity." Not another soul? What about me…Quinn? She waits for a moment, but I don't make any sign of answering so she takes that as consent.

Without taking her eyes off me she backs towards her desk and picks up a bedazzled folder and returns to the dim light of the window to read.

She clears her throat. "Question one: Do you come in peace?" The fact that she is completely serious right now makes me chuckle as quietly as I can manage. She raises an eyebrow at me. I just nod in response, highly amused by the whole thing. She makes a little check on a page that I assume is some kind of technical flow chart. "Question two: Are you here to study humans?" I shake my head. She makes another check, and makes no sign of reacting positively or negatively to my answers. If she asks me if I was here 'to seek out new life and new civilisations, and boldly go where no one has gone before' I might wet myself in hysterics. She doesn't, but I kind of wish she had now. "Question three: Are you on Earth by choice?" That's a bright question. I've got to give her credit for that. I shake my head because it is the blunt truth.

"Question four: Did you crash land on Earth?" I shake my head. The only reaction I get is a slight twitch of her eyebrow. I don't think she was expecting that. "Question five: Were you sent here?" That's a bit tougher to answer. I raise my hand and shake it slightly in a sign of "sort of…ish". "I'm afraid I need a yes or no answer." She says flatly. Trust Rachel to be strict on rules when talking to an alien. I'm starting to feel like I'm in some kind of quiz show. What happens when we get to the end of the flow chart? Do I get a prize? Does it depend on how I answer as to what kind of prize I get? Maybe she has it narrowed down into types of alien categories at the end. If she deems me to be like E.T. maybe I get a good prize, or if she types me as Predator maybe I don't get anything. I'm feeling the pressure now.

I just shake my head in answer, thinking that she's probably asking if I was ordered here. She makes a check and follows another limb of her flow chart.

"Question six," she really doesn't need to number the questions. "Are you hiding here?" Another difficult question. We're not technically hiding because nothing is chasing us but we are hiding the fact that we are aliens on this planet. I cock my head to the side, and hesitantly shake my head. She looks at me surprised and a little flustered. "I-I don't have another question following that, I assumed it would be a yes. I don't know what other options there are. I…oh no, I'm completely unprepared for this." She frantically starts flicking through her folder at what looks like vast amounts of research material. I reach my hand out and gently still hers. I ease the folder from her and put it to the side. She stares at me dazed by my gentle actions. "I need that. It has all my notes, all my questions." She says weakly.

"Can't you just speak to me?" I shake my head.

Rachel's POV

All that preparation, and it's useless. I can't believe it, I thought I covered every eventuality. I read hundreds of documents on why aliens would come to Earth, noted every theory I could think of. I even resorted to comic books and films for inspiration. And yet none of that seemed to fit. This was one of my biggest questions and only the first topic and I've already gotten stuck. This would be so much easier if she would just speak to me. Or even write it down…Can she read and write?

"Can write in English?" She nods. "Good. Maybe you should write an essay for me on your life as an alien here on planet Earth, so I can look it over and ask any further questions if I need to." I think that sounds like an excellent plan, so I'm very confused as to why she is laughing again. "I don't understand why you're laughing. This is hardly a laughing matter. We need to suss out an effective means of communication, and I think an essay will be very effective unless you can do some kind of mind-meld with me…?" More laughing. Her laughs are usually almost silent but this time a beautifully soft melody escapes. It reminds me of Quinn, I love Quinn's laugh. But the niceness of her laugh doesn't distract me from the fact that I'm frustrated at our lack of progress so far.

I plant my hands on my hips. "Well what would you suggest then?" She shrugs. "Well you're helpful." I huff sarcastically. "Let's just move on to our next topic shall we?" I grab my folder and flick to the next section. "Section two, entitled 'why are you beating up criminals?'" I clear my throat again. "Question one," I hear her snicker and I glare at her until she's silent again. "Question one: Do you only target criminals?" She nods. Good, I'm happy to hear that. "Two: Are you doing it to help civilians?" She nods, but there is a hesitation. I make a note to come back to that later. "Three: Have you considered alternate means of subduing criminals without the need of violence?" I think this is a very important point because I hardly think all that gore is necessary. She pauses thoughtfully before shaking her head. "In which case, may I present to you my ideas of humane ways to incapacitate criminals?" I have a slideshow I can set up in a moment's notice. She stares at me hard for a long moment before reaching forward and flicking over the next page in my folder. I get the hint, but now I'm very curious as to why she is unwilling. I make a note to revisit that later, but we're on a roll so I don't want to push it.

"Okay, the next section is miscellaneous questions. One: Do you have a lair?" Head shake. "Two: Can you pass as human?" A nod. Oooh, interesting. "Really? Can I see? I mean like, skin. Do you have normal skin?" She slides down one of her gloves to show me part of a soft, pale, delicate hand. Nothing alien about that. My mind starts to wonder if she looks that pale and soft, before I can pull myself in check, the words are out of my mouth. "Do you look like that everywhere? I mean, um…" I blush blossoms over my cheeks. She cocks her head at me. "I mean, are you completely human looking? You don't have any fangs or anything?" She shakes her head. "Can I see?" I'm being daring, I desperately want to see just a little more. "I just want to check for no fangs, I'm not sure if I believe you." I'm lying horrifically. She stands there for a moment before she very slowly, very subtly nods. I shiver with excitement. She makes no move to do anything so I inch closer, and slowly bring my hands to the bottom of the mask. The urge to rip it off completely is overwhelming, but I feel the trust she is giving me here, and the last thing I want to do is jeopardise the trust we have apparently developed.

I will my shaking hands to steady themselves as I start to lift the material of the mask. Centimetre at a time I gently peel upwards. I suddenly wish I had turned on the light so I had more than the dim, pale light of the moon to work with. Gradually a beautiful slender neck is revealed, her pale skin looks almost as if it's glowing in this light. I reach over her jaw and pull the material a little more outwards to make it comfortable for her. A delicate feminine chin, then one, then two beautiful, perfect lips. I wish I could see more clearly but half of her face is in shadow as we stand side-on to the window. But if I was to go on what I see, and the rest of her face is anything like this graceful jaw line and sensual lips then this woman would be quite simply stunning.

I rest the folded material over her nose and cheeks. I can't stop my hand when it takes a mind of its own and reverently caresses the gloriously soft skin that's exposed. My breath catches and I think hers did too as my thumb accidently grazes her lower lip. Then I remember why I'm doing this in the first place. This time, I purposefully caress her lip until they part for me to reveal very normal, but very dazzling, straight, white teeth. God, I wish I wasn't straining my eyes to see her. I wish I could see all of her.

"No fangs." I comment breathlessly. "You're beautiful aren't you?" I'm not sure if it was meant to be a statement or a question, but she doesn't answer either way. Only closes her lips again to swallow thickly. She's nervous. It's a trait that reminds me of Quinn. I obviously have her on the mind. This is what happens when you spend so much time studying one person, suddenly random nuances that remind you of them pop up everywhere, like noticing these details for the first time.

Why is she nervous? Does she…does she like me? I mean like me, like me? It might explain some of her behaviour like why she showed up yesterday when I wasn't in peril, and why she's here tonight. She didn't have to humour me with all of this, but she did.

Once again my mouth is ahead of me before I can stop it. "You like me don't you? You have feelings for me." This is a statement. She doesn't answer but the subsequent swallow is answer enough. She does. Oh wow. An alien superhero has feelings for me. This is unreal…and…wow. My eyes are inexplicably drawn to those slightly parted lips. I'm close enough to her to feel the increasingly rapid rise and fall of her chest. One of my hands has appeared cupping the side of her neck and I can feel her pulse thrumming under my fingertips. I don't know what I'm doing, but the distance between us is closing, my eyes still trained on the tempting, inviting lips.

Quinn, Rachel, Quinn!

Quinn?

QUINN!

"Quinn!" I say loudly as I pull back abruptly. "I'm in love with Quinn. I'm head over heels, madly in love with Quinn Fabray. So I'm sorry, but I can't-" My words are halted with a crash of soft lips against my own.

My world crashes.

Perfect lips are teasing my own, hungrily, lovingly. It's all-consuming, intense, and overwhelmingly passionate, and I'm kissing back with just as much passion and need. I don't know where this is coming from, but I'm in this and it feels too damn good to let go.

Her teeth tug at my bottom lip and then she soothes it over with her tongue. I moan and part my lips and then moan loader when her tongue touches mine. A wave of arousal shoots through me and I press myself impossibly closer to her. She tastes amazing, sweet, and I can't get enough of her as her lips and tongue pushes me to delicious new heights of pleasure. My knees go weak and she holds me firm against her. Her hands explore me running down my back and sides only to slide back up under my top. But they pause there, and without breaking the rhythm of the kiss, she rips off her gloves before placing those hands back under my shirt. I moan into her mouth at the warm, silky feel of firm hands on my bare skin.

She guides me backwards. I trust her implicitly to navigate my dark room and soon feel the mattress hitting the backs of my legs. She stops there and slows the passion of the kiss, languidly moving her lips against mine until she grazes my bottom lip teasingly between her teeth. I whimper, my legs turn to jelly and my core pulses. Her hands hold me firmer as she effortlessly guides me onto my back on the bed and then drapes herself over me. Never breaking the kiss, and never jolting me. Every movement is smooth and purposeful. As her weight settles on me I feel her thigh between mine pressing deliciously into my core. We both moan out and I realise my thigh is pressing against her ridiculously warm centre. I can feel her heat radiating into me and it only fuels my passion again.

The pace changes again, becoming more urgent. My nails scrape down her back, wishing I could feel her skin beneath my fingers. She groans and her hips rock into mine, stealing my breath away with the wonderful friction. My hands firm over her arse, squeezing to press her closer to me and relieve more of the ache between my thighs. She moans loudly and the pace is set. I roll my hips up to meet hers as she grinds into me. Our kisses become desperate as we seek more of each other. One of her hands slides my shirt up, grazing my skin as she does so. She pauses before her hand reaches the underside of my breast as if asking for permission. I answer by latching on to her wrist and guiding her hand up to where I want it. She slips her hand under my bra and I'm overwhelmed by the sensation of her warm hand palming my breast.

"Uuh! Oh God, that feels good." My senses are overloaded with her mind-blowing, dizzying kisses, her firm ministrations on my breast and the sensual, slow grind into my aching core. When she gently pulls my nipple between her thumb and forefinger, I cry out into her mouth. I feel that familiar and amazing tightening in my lower abdomen. Suddenly I'm consumed with the need to feel skin. My hands rake over her body in search of an entry point into the suit. I find a discreet zip on her back and trace it upwards making her shiver under my touch. I reach the top but the mask sits between me and the opening. I'm beyond frustrated with it, so I grab the edge of the mask to rip it off so I can get to whet I want, what I need.

There's a whoosh of cold air that shocks me as it slams into my heated body. I open my eyes and she's no longer on top of me. She's halfway across the room, tugging her mask back into place. Even in the darkness I can see her breathing is ragged as she runs her hands over her face and head, trying to regain composure.

I'm hit by the sudden realisation of what I've just done. Not only was I cheating on Quinn but I was also about to de-mask the vigilante. I think I've managed to successfully sever all trust there and I'm walloped in my stomach by guilt over Quinn.

What have I done?

The vigilante turns back to look at me, I'm at a loss for words. I have no idea what to say, so I don't say anything and I let her climb out my window and disappear into the night.

SHIT!