Oh snap. Look at me, writing long-ass oneshots. This is ridiculous.

Also, therapeutic. And for self-assurance.

Dusk settled onto the pavement and behind the row of houses that never seemed to change. Everything in this hick town seemed so permanent; the only things to ever transform were the seasons, and the sun from the moon. Quinn would know. After all, she lived in this town for seventeen years and she doesn't think it will ever end.

Her time in Lima, she meant.

The summer heat from a week ago was one thing that changed. The atmosphere no longer sweltered; no longer wrapping her in sweat and sticky sensations. The light breeze kissed the space between her blonde locks and she sighed. Winter would be coming early this year.

Quinn rounded off a corner, and the sun seemed to collapse behind her. Before everything else registered, the orange paint streaks across the sky were gone, to be replaced by dark blues and greys. That didn't bother Quinn at all. What troubled her was where she was at that current lapse of judgment, where her Freudian wishes brought her to.

The Berry house was lit and the sounds of laughter can be heard from where Quinn was rooted to the ground. Their lawn was so green, perfectly-trimmed hedges flanking the pathway. Rose bushes, Quinn smiled. It would make sense that Rachel would have something fierce—something as intense as she was, to decorate the side of her house.

Minutes buzzed around her ringing ears, and Quinn saw the living room light turn off, the sound of footsteps, and 'goodnight daddies' echoed in the hallway. Rachel was getting ready for bed, and Quinn found herself smiling at the thought that flashed through her mind: Rachel in bright pink jammies, star-spattered, hugging her delicate frame. Quinn felt a thrill through her spine, so she tightened her Cheerios jacket around her. She shoved her hands into the jacket pockets, feeling the worn envelope that's been there since summer began. It soothed and frightened her; having a physical manifestation of her thoughts addressed to the one girl who would never judge her.

If she remembered correctly, Rachel's dads' room was on the opposite end of the house. Quinn gathered tiny pebbles from the Berrys' garden and with a practiced arm she began to pelt the rocks against the crystal pane of Rachel's window. Quinn felt something out of a cheesy 80s movie—not as bad as John Cusack in Say Anything though. But she still felt like a cliché of epic proportions as she threw the remaining stones. She waited until the sheer green curtains were pulled apart and out peered a curious Rachel Berry.

"Quinn? What are you doing here?" She hissed, twirling her braided pigtails with a nervous finger. The blonde was smiling as she looked up at the brunette.

"Do—" the sudden—yet not really—appearance of the girl stole the request from Quinn's throat. She scrambled for the words, attempting to focus on the task at hand. "Will you take a walk with me?"

It was a simple request, but why did it feel as if she was asking for Rachel's hand in marriage?

Rachel looked dubious and Quinn can't blame her. "Give me a second."

Quinn nodded. And waited. It was the longest second she had to forge through, but it mattered so little because it promised her Rachel.

When the front door opened quietly to reveal a comfy-looking Rachel with her flannel pyjamas and Harry Potter shirt, Quinn felt her lips curve into a smile. Her pants were a few inches too long and the shirt was a size too small. Rachel kept tugging her pyjamas up and her shirt down, suddenly insecure under Quinn's focused gaze on her skin.

Quinn walked up to her and offered her hand. Rachel glanced at her, disbelief still so evident in her eyes. In the privacy of her brain, Quinn smacked herself. Repeatedly. Of course it would be too much to ask! What was she even thinking, offering her hand like someone who would sweep Rachel off her feet like that? Quinn thought about pulling her hand back, but it was too late now. She doesn't want to appear fickle.

In silence they stood until Rachel took a deep breath and cupped Quinn's palm in hers. The shiver that evoked a smile was pleasant. The smoothness, the size—where did 'man hands' come from anyway?—and the altogether warmth of Rachel Berry was proving to be too much for Quinn. She tugged at the hand and in silence, they walked.

"What's going on, Quinn?" Rachel asked when they left her street. "Where are you taking me?"

"We're friends, right?" Quinn echoed a conversation from long ago. She looked at Rachel with an expression she hoped that doesn't make her seem so hopeless… or in love. Honestly, what's the difference?

"Yeah, I guess so." Rachel breathed.

"Then trust me."

Rachel nodded, her grip tightening around Quinn's for half a second.

"Besides, I really don't know where we're going."

"Quinn!" Rachel shrieked; eyes livid and wide. "You might be leading me through potential danger! Its midnight and you're leading me nowhere in particular? What—why didn't you offer a walk in broad daylight instead of in the darkness!"

The blonde smiled through the rant, only to shrug. "It's in my summer to-do list." She supplied.

"What, leading me to danger?" Rachel huffed.

"Rachel, relax." Quinn chuckled. "I know you have a rape whistle on your keychain, and I have pepper spray. And when worse comes to worst..." Quinn grazed her thumb against Rachel's knuckles. "I'll protect you, okay?"

It was almost imperceptible, but Quinn saw Rachel's shoulders relax, and her pace slowed down. They walked through another street in a comfortable peace that followed them. Rachel appreciated the midnight breeze, and Quinn relishing the warmth of the hand in hers.

It was a clear night, the waning moon trailing above Rachel and Quinn. Beneath its watchful gaze, it urged Quinn to speak up and make it a memorable night for the brunette. But every time her lips would part, she would spare a glance at Rachel, and her words will be stolen in the moonlight.

"Are you excited for school?" Quinn forced herself to say, looking ahead at everything other than the beautiful girl walking beside her.

"Yes and no," Rachel admitted softly. "For one, I am excited to showcase the songs that I've been working on since summer break began. On the negative side, I would hate to get slushied again."

Quinn nibbled her upper lip and tugged at Rachel's hand, pulling her closer to Quinn's body heat. Quinn snaked Rachel's arm around hers, looping them together. She said nothing because she's not all that great with talking about anything. She hoped that her hold on Rachel would tell her all that Quinn ever wanted to say, but can't.

I'm sorry I was so terrible, but no, I wouldn't take it back. It showed you how fucked up I am and yet you never gave up on me. You still looked me in the eye and smiled. How I acted towards you gave me all that I ever knew with you. I saw how strong you are, how you can take over my world in a blink. This is why I fought so hard against you—and for you.

"How about you, Quinn? Are you excited for class to start?" Rachel asked with a grin. She swung their linked arms, giggling. It only proceeded to make Quinn smile.

"I am," She said. "My house is stifling and I'm bored out of my wits." And school means I get to see you every day, even though it's nowhere near me.

"You should've told me!" Rachel chastised her. "We could've hung out! I could've helped you with your singing or we could've watched movies all day."

"That would've been awesome," Quinn sighed, her thoughts flashing back through a series of memories that never occurred. Summer days spent in Rachel's cool bedroom, flat on their stomachs while a film that neither cared about played in the background. Then—maybe then—Quinn would've had the guts to say things that she meant; things she always thought of.

So instead of telling Rachel what she thought at that moment, she said, "I thought you'd be too busy with Finn or something."

It hurt to admit something like that, but Quinn pulled it off with so much ease.

"I was," Rachel said, skipping beside Quinn now. "But that doesn't mean I can't pull away from him enough to hang out with you."

"Oh," Quinn replied softly. The wind flew past and if only her senses weren't heightened, she wouldn't have felt Rachel shiver. Or she would've, either way.

It was Rachel, after all.

Quinn pulled her arm away from Rachel, who let out a small noise at the loss of skin contact. Quinn shrugged off her red and white letterman and stopped in front of Rachel.

"Arms out," she ordered, and Rachel complied. The blonde slipped the sleeves on Rachel's arms and buttoned the jacket around Rachel.

"Thank you Quinn," Rachel beamed up at her, and she couldn't help but feel as if she did something right for once. The night was cold but like hell it mattered to Quinn when Rachel was smiling like that at her—all lips and teeth and stars in her eyes, making Quinn feel pleasant and like someone deserving of Rachel's time.

They continue on their walk, mindless chatter exchanged between them and yet Quinn remembered everything that Rachel said. Like how she starred as the lead at the summer theatre production of Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, as Mrs. Lovett and how she loved singing 'Worst Pies in London'. She even sang a verse for Quinn. The blonde clapped and Rachel laughed and all was right in the world.

All was right until they saw the Berry house in the distance, in the midst of darkened blues. Quinn noticed how Rachel's smile faltered, her pace slowing down considerably.

It was nearing two in the morning, and despite Rachel's insistence that she was fine and not at all sleepy; Quinn would see her stifle a yawn behind her hand. She chuckled and led the droopy Rachel towards the Berry's front door.

"I had a great time, Quinn." Rachel murmured, looking at Quinn with bleary eyes, and Quinn wanted so, so badly to kiss the dropping eyelids with all the love and affection her incapable body would allow. Rachel's forearms rested on Quinn's shoulder, her palms locking behind Quinn's neck. She found the stance too intimate, but her body didn't give a shit what her brain was screaming, and so her palms found the swell of Rachel's hips, her fingers flexing against the taut skin and muscle. "I hope we can do this again."

"We'll see," Quinn said, eyes trained on Rachel's sparkling brown eyes, lit by the night lamp that hung above them, and by the light of the moon that shielded their skin with a velveteen glow. "Maybe on a different time slot because you're like a baby right now."

"Hey, I resent that." Rachel grumbled, not sounding resentful at all.

"I'm sorry I took away from your sleep," Quinn lifted a hand to sweep a braid behind Rachel's shoulder. "But I had a great time with you." The best time I had in months.

"Mmkay," Rachel sighed, resting her head underneath Quinn's chin, her warm breath a constant tickle on the blonde girl's neck.

"Rach, you need to get inside," Quinn whispered, but not letting go of the girl's hips either. But she had to be the responsible one, for both of their sakes. She wouldn't be surprised if Rachel could sleep like this, tucked deliciously under her chin as they swayed along to the rustle of the wind between the trees. Quinn felt the warmth inebriating her thoughts, and she moved before she completely fell asleep with Rachel in her arms, in their front porch to be found by her fathers the next morning.

She reached into Rachel's pocket, shushing her when she giggled, and opened the door with her keys. It was a wonder how Quinn seemed to know the general layout of the house as she moved them both in the dark, like a dance. Rachel was humming; Quinn was leading, arms still on Rachel's hips to prevent her from falling.

Although, a part of Quinn wanted Rachel to fall—for her, at least.

Quinn brought Rachel to her room, shed her of her sneakers and buried the smaller girl in between a mountain of pillows. Quinn reached up to unbutton the letterman from Rachel but the tiny girl mumbled something about its smell and tightened it around herself.

Quinn swept Rachel's bangs off her eyes and watched her for a second before doing something she never thought she would.

She bent down and kissed Rachel on the forehead.

It was half a second of lip-on-skin contact, but to Quinn it could've been everything that she needed in that lifetime.

"Goodnight Rachel," Quinn whispered before pulling away. In the corner of her eye she saw the lilac envelope of her heart and mind peeking out of the jacket's pocket. She wanted to take it and burn it and bury the ashes, but Quinn knew she needed this. She should stop being so scared and be brave instead. She's more than a pretty face. She deserved a shot in love just like everybody else, right?

Quinn took a deep breath and before she could talk herself into stealing the letter addressed to Rachel, she departed. Out of Rachel's room and out of the Berry house.

She was out like a lightning bolt, that she didn't even hear Rachel's content sigh, paired with the melody of her name parting with the singer's lips, and into the darkness.

/~/

Quinn was terrified to leave her house the same morning. Combined with the fact that she was unable to sleep and unable to dream, she was afraid of Rachel.

The smooth feel of her forehead against Quinn's lips was still prevalent, along with her hand and her touch and her everything. It was ridiculous, but what can she do, but succumb to this constant fear of Rachel and what she could do to her in a single blink of an eye? It sucked, having a kryptonite in her source of power and inspiration.

She trudged downstairs and prepared a bowl of cereal for herself despite it being two in the afternoon. Her mother was gone for work, but it was still suffocating to be surrounded by everything that hurt her since she was a child. She needed to go out again. It didn't matter where; she just needed to be rid of the constant reminders of her failures.

Quinn brought the bowl up to her room and turned on her music and found a book to read. It was a futile method for distraction, but it was worth a shot.

Until her phone buzzed beside her.

Fr: Rachel

Are you still bored out of your wits :)? Are you opposed in spending the remaining of your day with me?

Quinn gulped—honestly, what else could she do but say,

To: Rachel

I would love to.

/~/

The trek to the Berry household felt so second nature to Quinn, which was odd because she's only been there twice. Once for the Rachel Berry House Party Train Wreck Extravaganza, and yesterday when Quinn dropped her off. Maybe it's not about where the house stood but rather, who was within the four walls, waiting for her.

Rachel-radar sure does have a ring to it.

Quinn didn't spare any hesitation as she walked up to the front door, heartbeat thrumming with the desire to see Rachel once more. She rang the doorbell and was taken aback by the flash of bronze skin that glistened with the thinnest layer of sweat. Rachel was wearing black booty shorts and an Ohio University shirt that sagged against her shoulders. She was breathing heavily, smiling upon seeing Quinn.

"Quinn! Forgive my appearance as I woke up late and I needed to do my elliptical work-out." Rachel yanked Quinn's arm, pulling her into the house and slamming the front door shut behind the bewildered girl.

"You look nice," Quinn mumbled. "Don't worry about me."

Rachel tilted her head and smiled before dragging a limp Quinn up the stairs to her room. The blonde couldn't help but stare at how Rachel's flesh jumped and swayed with every move she made. Quinn sensed the potential dangers of the situation that introduced itself to her. Rachel—alone with her in her room, beads of sweat trickling down the side of her neck, down her shimmering thighs.

Quinn needed self-control, stat.

"I'll just be twenty more minutes," Rachel said, hopping onto the elliptical. "You can pick a movie from the drawer below the TV if you want."

Quinn did as she suggested, mostly because it would keep her from staring. She opened the drawer and saw an array of DVDs—mostly musicals but not limited to—arranged in genre, then alphabetical order. She thumbed through the titles before pulling out a case.

Rachel glanced at her and shot her a smile which she returned. Sitting on top of her bed, Quinn took the time to appreciate the room that housed Rachel after school. The walls were butter yellow, subdued by the posters and the awards lined up on the shelf. Her bed was firm and the sheets were silk and Quinn's mind was filled with the image of Rachel on her bed.

An innocent thought, no? Not quite.

The whirring from the elliptical ceased, and Quinn looked up to see Rachel wiping the sweat off her brow with a fluffy pink towel while she drank water in small sips. It was a mistake Quinn shouldn't have overlooked, because Rachel's thighs and legs glistened. At that moment, Quinn wanted nothing more than to cover her ears with Rachel's inner thighs.

"Done?" Quinn asked, hoping to mask the blush on her face with a smile. Rachel nodded and sat on the bed beside Quinn, looking at the plastic case in her hand.

"You want to watch Annie?"

"Everyone watched Annie at least once," Quinn shrugged. "I'm no exception."

"I must warn you now. I would sing every song, even if it is the group number between the orphans." Rachel shook a finger in front of Quinn's face with a playful smirk.

"That's what I was hoping for."

"I'm going downstairs to make some popcorn," Rachel said, hanging up her towel on a hook behind the door. "Do you want to come or do you want to start the movie?"

"I'll come," Quinn blurted out, jumping to her feet and following Rachel's laughter out of her room and into the kitchen. She hoisted herself up on a bar stool and watched Rachel make popcorn enough to feed the entire Glee club. The brunette began to sing a song and Quinn allowed her voice to do what it always did—send shivers down her spine.

It was during the sound of popping kernels that Rachel walked up to Quinn and rested her chin against the blonde's shoulder with a speculative glint in her eye. Quinn then remembered what she was afraid of in the first place, but she made it a point not to let it show. Rachel, after all, was like a bloodhound, smelling fear and insecurities from a mile away.

Maybe it's because Rachel cares enough to notice.

"Something wrong, Rach?" Quinn asked. The weight of the girl's head was the only thing that kept her from running away. Her shoulder felt as if the muscles curved to accommodate Rachel's chin into her body. Quinn moved her head away slightly to look at Rachel, who was looking right back.

"Mmm, nothing's wrong." Rachel sighed. "I just need a hug. My fathers left before I woke up so I didn't get a hug from them this morning."

"Well then," Quinn swallowed, feeling incredibly cramped, but delightfully so. It was close to being a dream come true—having Rachel in her arms for no reason at all but for a simple hug; an encompassing of arms around waists, sharing a certain kind of warmth only attainable through human contact. Simple things—minimal, really.

It meant leaps and bounds to Quinn though.

Never losing Rachel's chin on her shoulder, Quinn angled her so their chests met, the blonde's arms around the pliant smoothness of Rachel's back. The singer breathed a happy sigh and buried her face against Quinn's neck, her arms on the small of the blonde's back.

Their touches lingered for a minute or two, Quinn never wanting to let go. Seriously, who would when the person in your arms is that smooth, that cuddly, and that warm? Even when the microwave beeped, their unwillingness to part was strong. Until Rachel pulled just enough to smile at Quinn.

"Popcorn's done," she chirped, squeezing Quinn's frame before twirling away to put the popcorn in a giant wooden bowl. Taking Quinn's hand, Rachel dragged her up the stairs and pushed her on the bed with the bowl in between her legs. The brunette placed the disc on the tray and hopped on the space beside Quinn, draping half of her body over the girl.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, I'm still sweaty." Rachel jerked away from Quinn. "I should go shower now."

"Go right ahead," Quinn said, amused by her flustered state. "Do you want me to stop the movie?"

"No, continue it. I'll listen in from the bathroom." Rachel grabbed a pair of shorts, underwear and—good lord—a tank top, heading to the shower leaving Quinn all alone to stare into space, to be around Rachel yet be completely alone.

It was weird, being alone in the room of the girl you've always wanted to be—or wanted, Quinn was not entirely sure, with the shower blasting through the thin walls. She didn't even notice the opening credits begin until she heard the sound of Rachel's voice cutting through the bathroom door and into her head. She was pretty sure that Rachel's voice can have physical representation, it would be silk. Smooth and powerful.

"Maybe far away or maybe real nearby, he may be pouring her coffee, she may be straightening his tie," Rachel sang, and Quinn broke off into a smile. The shower cranked shut, and Quinn could just imagine Rachel wiping the water droplets off her legs and thighs with her towel. She gulped. It wasn't a very safe thought to have.

The brunette emerged from the bathroom door and Quinn had to focus on Annie and her orphan friends to rein in the remnants of control that was slowly dissipating. "Betcha they're young, betcha they're smart, bet they collect things like ashtrays and art!" Rachel grinned at Quinn and occupied the space beside her. The tangerine scent of Rachel was consuming, like every little thing about her.

Quinn was surprised she managed to finish the movie. She watched it, yeah. But like hell she knew what even happened in the middle.

/~/

That afternoon spent watching Annie: The Musical was the start of the best days of Quinn Fabray's young life. She hated that she only had the courage to initiate things two weeks before school started up again. But for the following days, she was hell-bent on making the most out of it.

'Making the most out of it' meant spending every possible minute with Rachel.

Movies, practicing for glee, sharing music, taking walks… They were activities done by the masses, but Quinn knew she had something unique. Rachel's hand. Or more specifically, Rachel herself. The bouncing ball of sunshine in Quinn's life said things she never even thought of made her imagine a life beyond high school. With Rachel. Goodness gracious, right?

/~/

Twelve days before school began, and Quinn was rather proud to say that she is now Rachel Berry's best friend. Only second to Kurt, but she would take what she can get.

/~/

Eleven days before school began; Rachel and Quinn were on Rachel's comfy bed with the television on mute. Quinn blinked once and twice. She just woke up from the best nap ever, and it was because she was pinned down by a soft, warm and perfect body. Rachel's ear was pressed against the hollow of her chest; her dispelled carbon dioxide was burning through Quinn's thin shirt. The blonde's arm was wrapped around Rachel's waist, and it slowly began to move up and down her back.

Rachel mumbled something about octopi and molluscs in her sleep, making Quinn squirm when her lips moved against her neck. Quinn thought about rolling Rachel off of her but she couldn't. She knew she couldn't, because the lava-like heat from Rachel was so reassuring, that yes, she has Rachel in her arms right now.

Quinn lifted up a hand to trace the crease of the space between Rachel's eyebrows as it bunched together. It smoothed out, and Rachel let out a sigh. Seriously, Quinn could stay here forever, not even bothering to eat. Who would've thought that Quinn was such a cuddle monster?

So focused was she in mapping out Rachel's features that she didn't hear footsteps right outside the door. A light rap against the wood though, had Quinn panicking that she almost dived underneath Rachel's bed. But it was too late. A muffled 'pumpkin?' was heard before the door opened, and in popped a black man's head. Leroy, if Quinn remembered correctly.

Time froze—no really, it did—as Leroy and Quinn stared at one another, the only thing preventing them from reacting was the five foot three angel napping on top of Quinn.

Leroy cleared his throat and tried not to scowl—Quinn could tell. "Don't wake her up but get her off of you. Then meet me downstairs." He said before closing the door in silence.

It was as good a time as any to jump out of Rachel's window to escape the wrath of one of the Berry daddies, but Quinn's dignity was at stake. If she ran away, there was a chance that she wouldn't be allowed in Rachel's room anymore, and that would suck. With a sigh, she rolled to her side and gently pried Rachel's sucker hold on her, before rolling off the bed entirely. Quinn shivered at the gaping absence of Rachel before picking up her hoodie from the floor and zipping it up.

Quinn Fabray was no coward, so she walked into the kitchen where Leroy set up two glasses of orange juice right in front of one another.

"H-hello Mr. Berry." Quinn greeted the tall man who was wearing a purple argyle sweater and an unreadable expression across the furrow of his brow. "I'm sorry I didn't ask permission to be here—"

"Relax," he said, motioning for Quinn to take a seat opposite him. "Calm down and take a drink first."

She did as he asked, glancing at the orange juice dubiously. One could be laced with cyanide. The Berry yard was huge. Maybe Leroy dug out a hole and was ready to dispose Quinn in said hole after the cyanide kicked in. Leroy sensed her hesitance, and he laughed. A deep baritone of a laugh. "They're not laced with anything, I swear to you. Unless Tropicana started spiking their orange juice."

Quinn blushed and grabbed the glass farther from her. She didn't notice Leroy raise a brow as she gulped half of the juice down. She sighed in relief. Her throat had yet to swell up, she had yet to keel over and die. But at the sight of Leroy's trained glare, Quinn was starting to think there really was something in that drink—a slower acting, untraceable poison. Like atroquinine or something.

"So, care to tell me who you are?" He asked, tapping the countertop with his nails.

"Quinn Fabray, sir."

Leroy hummed. "Rachel mentioned you before. From glee club, am I right?"

"Yes sir," Quinn breathed. She was nothing short of terrified. What if Rachel told her dads about her crazy bullying masked as deep and unbridled affection? What if he tied her up and drowned her in slushie to replicate the hundreds that was thrown at her daughter? Or worse, what if he kicked her out, forbidding her to see Rachel again?

"You look like you ate something bad Quinn," Leroy cocked a brow. "Are you okay?"

"I-I used to bully your daughter." Quinn gasped out before she could stop herself. She flinched but Leroy's features remained stoic. "I called her names, degraded her. I know I'm being an idiot being here after doing all those things to her but well…" The atmosphere changed, and it almost suffocated Quinn. "I tried to apologize to her a million times but she kept saying she forgave me and I think she's crazy for doing so but she's so awesome and amazing and I can listen to her talk and sing and laugh for days and—"

"Quinn, if you don't calm down, I just might smite you for that massive run-on sentence you just pulled out of your blonde ass." Leroy said, his expression stern, but his eyes sparkling in amusement. "I know all about it, and I'm glad you're brave enough to tell me all these things. But I have to ask…" He sipped his orange juice and smirked at Quinn. "You like Rachel, don't you?"

The orange juice that was halfway through Quinn's throat made its way out. She spluttered and choked and wiped the liquid from her lips. She blushed at Leroy's smirk. "I—err… That's to say…"

"Quinn, a father can sense if a person has a crush on his baby girl from a million light years away." Leroy grabbed paper towels and wiped the counter. "Don't worry. Do you think I'll be mad?"

"You could be…" Quinn mumbled, bowing her head and fiddling with the zipper of her hoodie. "After all the things I put her through? I don't even deserve to get the time of day from her!"

"Do you think that?" Leroy asked with a frown.

"Ye—"

"If you do, then why are you still here?" He poured a fresh glass of juice for Quinn and himself. "Maybe a huge part of you does, but a tiny, hopeful spark inside of you knows what she wants. And it's my pint-size of a daughter that is making you—"

"Quinn?" A groggy voice called from the top of the stairs. Rachel has awoken!

The blonde hesitated but Leroy smiled and nodded his head. "In the kitchen, Rach!"

Slow footsteps made its way down the stairs, through the living room and into the kitchen. Rachel appeared in a pair of sweatpants and a sweater, rubbing her eyes and making her way to where Quinn sat, looking like Christmas morning with her sleepy eyes and mussed hair. Quinn opened her arms because she knew Rachel was going to barrel into her anyway, so why pretend otherwise?

Rachel folded herself into Quinn's arms and sighed while the ex-Cheerio rubbed circles on her back. "Why'd you leave?" The shorter girl mumbled, tightening her fist around Quinn's hoodie. "I was comfy."

"Well… Your daddy asked to talk to me…"

That's when Leroy cleared his throat and grinned at the stunned look on his baby girl's face. "Nice to see you too, pumpkin."

"Daddy! I-I swear there is a logical explanation as to why you found an attractive blonde girl in bed with me! You see, Quinn was—"

"I'll stop you right there. I already suffered through a bout of flustered explanations from a teenager today." Leroy said, pushing a glass of juice in front of Rachel. "But guess what, honey? Did you know Quinn has a cr—"

"Mister Berry!" Quinn shrieked, flailing her arms and throwing a plastic apple at the man who cackled and flinched when it bounced off his head.

"—azy passion for throwing fake fruit at the father of her friends?"

Quinn scowled at Leroy and pouted but returned her arms around Rachel anyway. While Leroy laughed, Quinn realized that it was the first time that she was actually comfortable joking around with an adult. Her parents were out of the question. Coach Sylvester was a definite no, and Mr. Schuester was just there, neither a positive or negative influence in her life.

Rachel laughed against Quinn and reached for the glass of juice, the arm that was looped around Quinn's hip, never leaving. "So, what did you talk about while I was alone in my room, shivering from the absence of my cuddle buddy?"

"Nothing of vague importance," Leroy replied easily. "Just what to eat for dinner because Miss Fabray is eating with us." He stood up and gathered the empty glasses and rinsed them off at the sink before storing them in the dishwasher. "And since no one can cook in this house, we opted for Thai takeout."

/~/

The other Mr. Berry arrived with a shrill annunciation of his presence as he stormed into the kitchen, pushing himself up to the tips of his toes to kiss his husband, then to bend slightly to hug his daughter. He was halfway across the kitchen to hug Quinn, only to freeze, arms up in the air and gawking at Quinn, who was smiling sheepishly.

"You must be Quinn!" Hiram beamed when the awkward second lapsed, hugging the blonde anyway. "Rachel told us a million things about you, I swear I can fill a book!"

"Dad," Rachel huffed.

"Careful, 'ram. That girl throws plastic fruits at unsuspecting fathers." Leroy called out as he paid the delivery boy for delivering their dinner. Quinn stuck her tongue out at him and raised her arm to chuck another decorative fruit—this time, an orange—at Leroy.

Dinner with the Berrys was nothing short of a success. Quinn came to that conclusion when the brunette walked her to her car, rising on the tips of her toes to kiss the unsuspecting blonde on the cheek.

Quinn drove home smiling.

/~/

Ten days before school began, the skin on Quinn's neck tingled as she walked up the path leading to Rachel's house. She was about to reach for the doorbell when a muffled voice echoed within—Rachel's. Quinn turned the knob, frowning when it was unlocked and stepped inside, to be met face-to-face with the lumbering oaf named Finn Hudson.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded. "Are you bullying Rachel at home now too?"

"I really don't think Rachel would text me to come over just so I could bully her." Quinn said, glancing behind Finn to see the girl she came for, watching them with a nervous expression.

She looked at Finn once more, when something in his face changed. His jaw twitched and his fists clenched. "So you're the person she kept ditching me for, huh?"

"What are you talking about?" Quinn asked, cocking her perfect eyebrow.

"I said," Finn hissed, stepping up to Quinn's personal bubble and body-checking her lightly. "Rachel ditched me eight times this week because she's 'hanging out with a friend'. What does that even mean?"

"It means we're friends." Quinn said, side-stepping Finn to place her slippers on the shoe rack. "Morning, Rach!"

"Damn it, Quinn!" Finn spat, grabbing her on the shoulder to spin her around. Quinn flinched when his grip tightened around her shoulder. "You hate Rachel! Why would you want to spend time with someone annoying and doesn't know how to stop talking—"

Quinn shoved Finn off of her and took a step back. "Rachel's not annoying! It's not her fault you can't keep up with her intelligent ramblings about how octopi are the best freakin' sea creatures ever because she uses proper terminology! And I don't hate Rachel!"

The brunette in question tugged at Quinn's hand, preventing her from lunging at the tall boy. "Finn, please leave."

"Wha-I'm your boyfriend and you're making me leave?"

"It's not that you're her boyfriend, it's that you're you." Quinn spat.

"Quinn," Rachel murmured, soothing a thumb against the blonde's taut knuckles. "Finn, please don't rush into conclusions."

"Fine," he hissed, kicking the shoe rack, causing the shoes and boots to fall in a heap on the floor. "Screw this. You won't put out, you won't even make out with me? We're done."

"Finn—"

"Don't come crying to me when Quinn becomes a fucking bitch again." Finn said, slamming the door shut behind him.

No one spoke for a minute until Quinn slowly extracted her palm from Rachel's, bending down to fix the fallen shoes off the floor and back to the rack. She didn't want to see the look of stunned hurt or the disappointment or—or the heartbreak in Rachel's eyes that was brought upon by the douchebag of the fucking year. Once every pair of footwear was arranged from Leroy, to Hiram's, to Rachel's, then to guests, Quinn picked herself up off the floor and reached for Rachel's shoulders, pulling her in without looking into her brown eyes.

"You know I won't be a bitch again, right?" Quinn whispered into Rachel's long hair. "At least not when it comes to you."

"I know," Rachel murmured.

The lack of response was totally disconcerting, so Quinn pulled away and focused on the floor. "Do you want me to go?"

"No," the brunette tugged Quinn back to where she stood. "I want…" She took a staggering breath and nibbled at her lower lip. "I need you to show me that—that you're not like him. That you wouldn't leave."

"Of course not," Quinn inhaled in Rachel—not just her scent, but every molecule and atomic part of her. She probably haven't hugged Rachel this tight, held her this close. Where they were was so irrelevant, that even if they were in the middle of the lunchroom in McKinley, if Rachel needed this, Quinn would give it to her without any second guesses.

Quinn carried Rachel to the couch and cradled her on top of her lap, murmuring reassurances in her ear as they rocked to and fro. Rachel didn't look sad or heartbroken—just disappointed. She pulled away from Quinn and stuck her lip out. "Why is it that you had the best timing ever?"

"Best?" Quinn asked. "Rach, if I was a minute late he wouldn't have broken up with you."

"Yes, that is exactly my point." Rachel smiled, tucking her hair behind an ear. "I wanted to break up with him but didn't know how to go about it. You made it easier, so to speak."

"Well then," Quinn blinked; pretty sure that she just heard one of the most magical phrases in the entire universe. "I'm glad I could help."

/~/

Nine days before school began, Quinn spent the night in Rachel's room for the first time.

It wasn't planned. In fact, it was rather anti-climactic.

They were watching a documentary about the Hubble space telescope. Neither of them was even into it, but Rachel insisted on opening up horizons and learning as many things as they can, until she dropped off to sleep not even halfway through the damn show. Quinn tried to stay interested, but again, the warmth that Rachel gave out as she cuddled against the blonde was too intoxicating.

She was drifting between sleep and awake when Leroy peeked in and smiled upon seeing them. He shut off the television, made a gesture towards Quinn that screamed 'you better keep your hands in an appropriate place or I'll tell her your secret', and then turned off the lights. He murmured good night and left Rachel and Quinn to dream.

But Quinn lay awake, because this was probably the closest she could ever get to what her dreams were like every night.

/~/

Seven days before school began, Quinn's mom questioned where she goes every day for the past week. The panic that brewed in Quinn's stomach was unreal as she chewed her cereal slowly to buy herself some time to respond, hoping that her mother would just let it go. But Judy Fabray merely raised an inquiring brow, so Quinn decided to swallow her cereal and speak.

"Rachel's house, mom. You know, Rachel from glee?"

"That tiny girl who can sing the roof off?"

"She's the one."

"Oh, she seems sweet."

Quinn's breath hitched and she couldn't help a smile. "Yeah, she is."

"At least you're getting out of the house now. Early this summer you're locked up in your room. I'm glad you're hanging out with your glee friends, dear."

Quinn was glad too.

/~/

Five days before school began, Quinn lost all sense of what 'friendship' meant.

Because really, if friends were this touchy—and no, Brittany and Santana don't count because there were reciprocating feelings involved—goodness knows Rachel and Quinn are the best friends ever.

Forehead kisses, hand-holding, hugs… Quinn can name all forms of friendly contact and she probably did them all with Rachel, and will probably continue in doing so because hello, it's Rachel.

Okay maybe it's not that she didn't know what 'friendship' meant, but rather, she didn't know what 'friendship' meant between them—Rachel and Quinn. She saw how Rachel was with Kurt, with the playful banter about divas and all the Broadway references. They weren't touchy. They hugged at best, and that was it.

Quinn sat on Rachel's bed, reading Fragile Things by Neil Gaiman, her knees propped up and her legs spread, when the door opened and Rachel stormed in with her laundry basket filled with fresh clothes. Quinn thumbed through the page and hummed her greeting as Rachel stored her clothes in her closet.

Once she was done, Rachel leapt in bed with Quinn and squirmed her way between Quinn's legs and under the book of short stories. She popped up in front of Quinn, facing the book, her head against Quinn's chest. She rested her forearms against either of the blonde's knees, sighing when Quinn pulled them up higher against the headboard.

A page was flipped and the scent of tangerines made Quinn's eyes flutter. She read out loud. "It is February the fourteenth, at that hour of the morning when all the children have been taken to school and all the husbands have driven themselves to work or been dropped…"

She should've picked a better story to read, nothing about mangled hearts and ketchup and hatpins. But maybe, this was what their friendship was about. Torn-apart hearts and tangerines and cuddling.

Quinn laughed when Rachel grimaced at the story. The way her nose scrunched up and her lip poked out. It made the blonde want to tip the girl's chin up and kiss her softly, because she knew that's how Rachel dreamt how her first kisses would be. Smooth and pliant and not earth-shattering, but rather, creating a new ground from the sensations evoked from such closeness. Sure, Finn got to her first but that didn't mean she could eradicate all memory of the treant from Rachel's mind.

It was hopeless a thought, but so was unrequited love.

/~/

Three days before school began, Quinn thought she would go insane. You would think so too, if the only girl you ever wanted was so clingy, grabby and always in need of contact with you. During Berry game night, it was starting to be way too much as Rachel rolled the die while on top of Quinn's lap. Suddenly, Monopoly didn't seem too child-friendly.

"Whose great idea was it to play Monopoly?" Leroy demanded as Rachel moved her token to her hotel empire and paying the bank for an upgrade. "And as teams, for crying out loud? These two are sharks!"

Quinn laughed and gave Rachel another hotel piece, as she was doubling up as banker and being on Rachel's team. Hiram took his turn and cursed in Yiddish as she landed on the same space as Rachel. The brunette held out her palm in front of her dad and silently gloated while waiting for the money to pass hands. To see Rachel so triumphant did many things to Quinn and calm wasn't one of them.

She squirmed underneath Rachel and took her turn, visiting Leroy in jail after a Chance draw-out gone awry. Turns came and went, and few more times that Quinn squirmed. Rachel wasn't heavy, but maybe it was her weight added to the secret burrowed in the blonde's chest that weighed her down.

Hiram and Leroy eventually went bankrupt. As Rachel exulted in her victory before Hiram, Quinn and Leroy headed to the kitchen for their dinner. She was about to head back when her arm was tugged by a concerned Leroy Berry, holding four boxes in one massive hand.

"Something wrong?" Quinn asked.

"Are you okay with what's going on between you and Rachel?" He asked; his voice low and quiet. "I know she's a very touchy person, seeking contact from anyone who would offer it. But Quinn, you look like you're suffering."

Quinn bit her lip and shrugged. Looking away, she said, "Yeah, I guess it sucks treading this boundary of being her best friend when I just want to jump over the fence and kiss her." She blushed at what she said, but Leroy's hand was a constant weight on her shoulder. "But I won't, because I'm pretty sure she doesn't feel the same way."

The watery smile on her face made Leroy sigh. "You should talk to her. Don't be a martyr and just take what she dishes out. You deserve happiness too."

"Maybe I do," Quinn grinned, though her tears were nothing to smile about. "But if it's what she wants, she can have mine too."

/~/

Two days before school began, Quinn was ready to lose her mind. She thought about doing what Leroy suggested: to talk to Rachel about her relentless desire for contact. She even made a list of pros and cons, password-protected in her phone.

Pro number one: Rachel would apologize and would be understanding.

Listed directly below it was a side note: not really a pro because the contact will be decreased.

Quinn soon gave up after that.

No matter how hard she reasoned to herself that her head is more important than Rachel's skin against hers, she could never win the argument. She craved it now, more so than ever. Every time she walked in through the front door, she was a Rachel-seeking missile, never stopping until arms are right where they're meant to be.

This is why Quinn dreaded school.

It meant not having Rachel for ten hours straight, her head tucked beneath Quinn's chin as they read books or watched movies or listened to music.

It meant pulling away, and it's not even about popularity or reputations.

Pulling away meant not telling the truth, and yet losing Rachel either way.

/~/

One day before school began, Quinn spent it alone in her room, hugging a pillow she wished to smell like tangerines. Rachel was probably waiting for her by the front door right about now.

/~/

Nineteen hours before school began, Quinn made her way to Rachel's house, scared out of her wits. She took a deep breath, entering the house without even knocking or ringing the doorbell. She greeted Leroy who was in the kitchen, before trudging up the stairs to Rachel's room. Upon entering, she saw her letterman jacket on the bed, and a lilac envelope, frayed at the edges, like her heart.

Oh no.

Rachel sat cross-legged before the two items. Her features were unreadable; smoothed out and pleasant. Too pleasant, if you asked Quinn.

"Rachel?"

"Hi Quinn. Please shut the door behind you."

Okay, now that's just scary. Quinn obeyed anyway.

Millions of atoms and molecules and particles separated Rachel and Quinn at that moment, but the only things that truly posed a threat was the jacket and the envelope. The lip was no longer stuck on the paper, and dread engulfed Quinn's lungs. It felt like she was exhaling, but the carbon dioxide never left her, poisoning her.

"You read it," Quinn said.

"I did," Rachel bobbed her head. "It was addressed to me, after all."

Black socks scuffed against the fluffy carpet. "Yeah, you were meant to read it."

Rachel threw her legs off the bed and stood up before Quinn, still light years apart. "Is it true?"

"Every single thing," Quinn said, blowing out air through pursed lips. "I'm sorry; you might think I'm a creep now. Being close to you when I felt that way." She clamped her lips together and focused on Rachel. Her eyes, her nose, her lips, her hair. Everything about her, Quinn wanted, adored, desired. But most of all…

Loved.

"Before you tell me to get out, can I have one last hug? Just—just one more." Quinn choked out, clenching her fists against her side to rein herself in. She can't lose herself, not now, when everything is tied to this one moment, by a single line of opportunity to show Rachel that yes, her feelings are real. So real that she could touch it, feel it in every pore and hair of her body.

"Oh Quinn," Rachel sighed, taking a step forward. "Do you really think I'll ask you to leave?"

"Yes."

"Do you have no faith in me?"

"I do have faith in you." Quinn stepped closer to where Rachel stood. She could reach out an arm, and she would have her again, but she won't. She can't. She has no right. "But this is mostly about me not believing in myself."

Arms surrounded her, but it wasn't the same as the hugs she once adored. It felt suffocating, with its heavy air of finality that stifled Quinn's senses. But she hugged back. She tightened around Rachel, buried her face against the girl's hair and almost cried. Why was she foolish enough to write that stupid letter before their epic friendship began?

Quinn pulled away and took a step back. Her tears were still in check, but she couldn't look at Rachel even if she asked. And she didn't. Instead, Rachel stepped up and tipped her chin.

And kissed her.

Soft and barely there, at least until Rachel pulled Quinn by the back of her neck to fully experience those lips that she could taste in her dreams. It wasn't the sweetness that Quinn dreamt of; didn't taste like green skittles at all. It tasted of triumphant surrender. Like the distant chai tea that Rachel drank for breakfast. Or the Tic-Tacs that Quinn nibbled on while walking to Rachel's.

Rachel pulled enough to rest her forehead against Quinn's. "Please don't tell me that was your messed up way of saying 'get out' because I really don't think that was too nice of you."

"Of course not," Rachel giggled, tugging at the hair that stuck behind Quinn's head. It was enough to hurt, enough to send the blonde teetering. "If anything, I don't want you to ever leave."

/~/

Eighteen hours before school began, Quinn Fabray became Rachel Berry's girlfriend in title. Because let's face it. They've been not-dating for the past two weeks.

In that same timeframe, Quinn thundered down the stairs and jumped into the arms of an unsuspecting Leroy, shrieking that Rachel finally made it clear that she was hers, and she was Quinn's.

Leroy yelped and spun Quinn around the house while a bemused Rachel watched. Something about 'it's about time' and 'oh god I have to sit through you two being sweet and gross now'.

It was awesome.

/~/

An hour before school began, Santana and Brittany found Rachel and Quinn in Rachel's car, lips stuck together with a desperate need that can only be extinguished by the other's lips. The loud rap against the window made Rachel jump, her head bumping against Quinn's.

"You two are gross!" Santana guffawed as Quinn rolled down the windows, scowling. "Got superglue stuck to your lips, Blondie?"

"Something like that," she grinned, looking at Rachel with lovesick eyes. "If love was superglue, yeah I guess so…"

Santana gagged.

Brittany asked if Rachel tasted like berries.

She tried to find out.

/~/

Ten minutes before school began, Quinn walked Rachel to her first class, their fingers tied together by their superglue. Rachel spun to face Quinn, and Quinn had to smother the ecstatic smile that she knew was creeping on her face. She was sure she looked hysterical to everyone else, but to Rachel, she knew she looked exactly just what she is. Enthralled. Adoring. In love. Perhaps all of the above.

"I'll see you in English?" Rachel squeaked, rolling on the balls of her feet with a wide grin. Quinn merely nodded and kissed her on the lips, onlookers be damned.

/~/

Those fourteen days of summer were the best freaking fourteen days in Quinn's life, because it changed her, made her see that there's no shame in feeling things, especially for Rachel Berry.

Of course, every day that passed with Rachel?

Best day ever.

I was d'aww-ing throughout. It was kinda embarrassing.