A/N: A little snippet of a moment between Quinn and Sam before he leaves. Yes, I still ship Fabrevans. Yes, my muse has been badly wounded since Ryan Murphy decided to destroy the pair. And yes, there are things that are inaccurate - such as my denial to acknowledge Samcedes, and Quinn's utter change of appearance and attitude in the new episode - so please don't criticise it if you're going to review. Other than that, read, review, and enjoy! :)

Disclaimer: Do not own.

She shows up at his door in a yellow sundress the colour of daffodils that brings out the copper strands in her hair.

She's biting the inside of her cheek, seemingly uncertain and nervous, but once she stops fumbling with the cardboard box she's holding in her arms, she meets his gaze with a defiant, pride-filled stare.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She demands unspecifically, shifting the cardboard box onto the top of her left leg so that it balances on her thigh. He avoids her eyes, murmuring a 'here, let me help you with that' as he gently pries her fingers away and takes the box, setting it down at the side of his door.

"Why don't you come in?" He asks her, shifting to the side. She tosses waves of blond hair over her shoulder and complies, eyeing the room critically. It's painfully bare; white-wash walls yellowing with age, harsh cardboard boxes piling on top of one another, crowded in so many places she feels like she's standing in a sea of brown.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She demands again, hands on her hips.

"I thought we were friends," she adds on bitingly, "and I can't believe I had to hear it from Sarah –Sarah from Goodwill, of all things, that you were moving."

"God, Sam," she says, sounding annoyed. "Just because –

"Stop," he interrupts. His mouth is twitching, dimples carved into his cheeks, but his eyes remain serious. "No need to tear me apart with your words. I was going to bring Stacey over tomorrow morning because she insisted she see you one last time before we go."

"So what? You were just going to spring it on me, and leave the day after? It doesn't work that way." She laughs, but there's no humour in it. There's something else laced between her words, though, and it feels dark and deep and ugly like a scar, a blemish that she just can't get rid of. She hates it, feeling this way, but not knowing how to describe it.

"Then how does it work, Quinn?" He asks as angrily someone like Sam can ask.

He runs his hands through his hair, and she knows that he's just too nice to say it out loud. How would someone who cheated on not one-but two boyfriends get how it worked? How would someone who got pregnant with their boyfriend's best friend understand? How could he trust someone who cheated on her boyfriend, cheated on another boyfriend, then got back with the first boyfriend she cheated on? He couldn't.

"I thought we promised that we weren't going to mention that," she says coldly, but quietly. Her voice is just a whisper. She hates how weak it sounds (she's always hated her voice) and he suddenly looks so regretful and guilty that it makes her heart ache.

There's a silence, and then:

"I know, I'm sorry," he says, and he's always the one apologizing and she's always the one expecting the apology and it's just not right because he's done nothing wrong. He holds out his hands and she runs into them, burying her face into the curve of his neck as his arms wrap around her waist like a protective shield.

He presses his lips to her forehead, and she knows that he's saying goodbye, goodbye to everything they have, everything they've ever had, goodbye for a long long time (but not forever.)

"Don't fall in love, okay?" She whispers against his earlobe.

He smiles and she instantly regrets what she said, knowing that he'll come up with some kind of cheesy over-rated response that'll make her stomach curdle with a mixture of disgust and some kind of mushiness that blooms and makes her want to crush it right away.

"Too late."

A/N: Thanks for reading! Don't favourite/story-alert without reviewing, please.