A/N: This was rushed out just in time for the prompt, so mistakes are all mine. Probably the fluffiest I've ever written. Also, I love the various meanings associated to the different colors of roses. They're metaphors and metaphors are important.

"Kurt, this is ridiculous! I don't know what to wear and I'm going to embarrass myself, I just know it!"

From the other room, said addressee rolls his eyes and heads for his mirror. "For the millionth time, Rachel, go along with it! It's the same for me too, if you think about it. Only, I know Adam and- point is, he's bringing a friend. A very straight friend, for the record! Just try to have a blast and I promise I'll do your chores for a month. Especially the dishes." Kurt throws his scarf over his shoulder and frowns. The green would not match his shoes so he pulls it off and goes in search for another one.

It takes another hour and three different outfits for Rachel later ("Why do you even have trousers? Are these from your pants suit?! Rachel!") before they greet the guys at the mouth of the restaurant. The new guy, Brian, has his hair sleeked back, a navy blue cotton tee hidden under the blazer and dulled chocolate eyes.

"Enchanté," he kisses the back of her hand exaggerated and Rachel inwardly groans at his faux French accent. She doesn't want to hasten her judgment but it's two seconds in and she's annoyed with how hard he tries, and how bland he is underneath. Kurt sends her a silent look of gratitude before looping his arms with Adam's, leading them to their seats.

It's going to be a long night, Rachel thinks miserably, at least my hands will be suds free for a month.

Rachel's quiet for most of the meal, nodding politely, answering the occasional question thrown at her. It's not that noticeable, really, what with Kurt rambling animatedly next to her and almost poking her in the eye with all his gesturing. She is slightly amused at the number of times Bryan slips up his accents, plural, because it jumps between English, French and distinctly Queens.

She glares into the bowl and pushes her salad around, suddenly envious of Santana, who's probably having more fun at work than where she is. Glancing to her right, her eyes land on the vases, overflowing with different shades of red and pink perched at the window sill. She's already zoned out from the conversation at the table, what with Brian boasting about his new shoes. Shoes. Stifling another sigh, she looks out to the streets and wonders what kind of life these passersby have; the guy with the briefcase probably rushing home to his family, the teenager finding a nearby deli, a businessman getting his car towed in the middle of his torrid affair, and Quinn, with her hands tucked in her pea coat, laughing gently at a joke that some brunette is telling her.

Wait.

What?

Rachel jolts so hard in her seat that her champagne flute (water, she's still underage after all) tips off the table. Her stomach is immediately assaulted with a myriad of energy; nervous, excited, unpleasant. Grabbing her purse, she halfheartedly excuses herself from the table, eyes not once leaving the blonde as she squeezes out of the restaurant. She vaguely hears Kurt apologizing on her behalf but doesn't stop to question whether her state of boredom had caused her hallucinations.

"Quinn? Quinn!" She's breathless and her heart is in her throat. She's a few feet away and suddenly feels a few curious glances headed her way.

The blonde turns and seeks out the person randomly yelling her name in New York. Hazel green eyes meet hers and they widen in surprise. Her companion halts along with her, questioningly trailing the blonde's line of vision to...

"Rachel?"

In a flurry of motion, Rachel throws her arms around Quinn's neck as arms wrap around her waist. Quinn still smells of cinnamon and books, not that it's creepy to be sniffing your friend in the middle of the pavement.

Pulling out of the hug and blinking away her excited daze, Rachel steps back and finally acknowledges Quinn's companion with a slight nod before turning back to Quinn, "What are you doing here, Quinn?"

"It's uh... well, Ash, this is Rachel Berry, my friend from high school and future Broadway star. Rachel, this is Ashley, my... girlfriend." Quinn says slowly, with the most serious expression, as she gestures between the brunettes.

Ashley, who is an inch shorter than Quinn, is English and is beautiful, with the bluest eyes and pixie cropped hair. She eyes Quinn curiously and nods in understanding. Turning to Rachel, she extends her hand and smiles pleasantly, "Rachel, I've heard so much about you."

Trying to stop herself from gaping like some idiot fish, Rachel clears her throat and her mask slips on. She's a professional, after all. Quinn doesn't miss this as she watches Rachel return the gesture, blinding them with her brilliant smile, "Ashley, a pleasure. Though I wish I could say the same."

"It's Ash's birthday and she's never been here, so we've decided to make short trip to celebrate," Quinn answers belatedly, watching for Rachel's reaction. She looks to Ashley for support because Ashley knows.

"Ah, and no better place than the Big Apple! I do hope that Quinn is doing a proper job of showing you around. Otherwise, as a future long term resident New Yorker myself, I would be glad to bring you guys around. Where are you staying anyway?" God, Rachel feels as though she slipped back into the days of intense verbose articulation, which she has left behind in Lima, thank you very much.

Quinn's lips curl up slightly. There's plenty of explanation to do later, considering how despite the weekly emails, the topic of Quinn's girlfriend, or any relationship she has for that matter, never arose, or how she's used her own Metro North pass to bring her girlfriend here instead of visiting Rachel again. Not that Rachel's heart hurts like someone's repeatedly flinging it against a wall or anything.

"I appreciate your trust in me, Berry, but we're staying-"

"Rachel! " A shrill voice sounds out from behind and Rachel's met with a very red and very flustered Kurt chasing after her. "What in the name of god led you to-" It's amusing to watch Kurt flail wildly and then choking on nothing as he catches sight of a smirking Quinn.

"Quinn Fabray! As I live and breathe," They were never really that close, but Kurt pulls Quinn into a bone crushing hug. He's not still afraid of the former cheerleader, no, it's just nice to see a familiar face again.

"Kurt," Quinn laughs as she clasps Ashley's hand and tug her closer. Rachel's eyes widen yet again as she trails Quinn's movement, a sourness knotting uncomfortably within. She wishes for a companion like that, she reasons, she is not jealous of Quinn Fabray again. Or this Ashley character, for that matter.

"Kurt," she repeats, "This is-"

"Ashley! It's good to see you again, though I must say that you look so much better in person," Kurt laughs a little too loudly and pulls her into a hug. Ashley squeals at his forwardness but accepts gracefully.

What the hell? Rachel looks at Kurt as though he's grown three heads. How does he know Ashley? Did he know about Ashley? Did the universe decide to shut Rachel Berry off? She's got a flare for the dramatic and at this point she thinks she deserves to be.

Unaware of how long she has had the befuddled look, Kurt chuckles and decides to spare Rachel from the implosion that she's about to put herself in.

"Santana was skyping Quinn in the living room that day when I came home, that's when Ashley appeared behind Quinn in the tiny screen. Without any clothes on." Kurt explains it simply. He sniggers and both Quinn and Ashley blush hard. Rachel's jaw is probably dislocated and her eyes are popping out of their sockets and, wait, what are words again?

"Kurt!" Quinn slaps his arm and he squeals indignantly. She knows he deserves it anyway, and if Rachel could control her motor functions, she'd probably do the same. Then slap Quinn. Then herself.

"Okay, god, I'm just kidding. I think Rachel's suffering from an aneurysm though. Rachel, snap out of it. Ashley wasn't naked. There were clothes. Lots and lots and lots of it. It was laundry da- Oh for the love of god, close your mouth, Rachel!" Kurt almost shoves Rachel off the pavement by this point. Blinking hard, Rachel swallows thickly as her heart pounds wildly. Now that she's not thinking of them naked, or doing things to each other, the heaviness in her chest lifts pslightly and she tries to speak.

"All right!" Ashley interjects for the first time, "I have no idea what sick games you guys like to play on each other but give the girl a damn break! Rachel, honey, Kurt hasn't seen us naked. I've never seen Quinn naked. We're not together in a romantic sense, or in any sense for that matter. I'm Quinn's new roommate and I'm visiting my boyfriend here in New York. My very straight and very male boyfriend." Ashley speaks to Rachel so slowly like she's a kid. She just needs Rachel to understand. And Rachel can stop glaring daggers at her. Any time now.

Rachel thinks that the universe must really hate her.

She's extremely wary of them at this point and doesn't know what to believe. These fuckers playing with her like it's April's fool when it's the middle of December.

"It's true, Rachel, I'm just dropping Ashley off along the way to Santana's work place to pick her up." Quinn gestures to the backpack she's got slung over her right shoulder. "She was going to let me in to the apartment while Kurt distracted you so that I would be a surprise."

Rachel remains quiet while she crosses her arms.

"Surprise?" Quinn tries again weakly, waving her arms up in a little celebratory fashion.

In situations like these, Rachel Berry does what Rachel Berry does best. With her head held high, she turns around and executes a perfect storm out.

Stunned, though not entirely surprised by her actions, Quinn and Kurt let out a collective sigh while Ashley raises her eyebrows at them.

"It's no wonder you lot have so many soap operas. Are all of you this dramatic all the time?"

Quinn rubs her nose tiredly and ignores Ashley. "Too far?" She looks over to Kurt.

"Probably. Then again, I've just put her through one of the worst dates before this." Kurt mumbles.

"You what? "

"Hey, you said to entertain her! Plus, Adam had a free day so we thought that by putting Rachel up on an awful bad blind date, it'll increase your chances of getting into her good books! Or pants." He puts his hands up in surrender and for a moment he hears Finn's voice ("Woah, scary Quinn") reverberate in his head. He's not, he's not afraid of Quinn's glare, he's not.

He's terrified.

"Wait, Quinn did what?" Santana snickers as she props her legs on the coffee table. Kurt huffs and throws his hands up in the chair across her.

"Apparently she introduced Ashley as her girlfriend before I appeared," he rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.

"Q tried to make a joke? No wonder it backfired so spectacularly. Gotta admit, not your funniest, Q."

Quinn momentarily stops pounding on Rachel's door and throws Santana a glare over her shoulder. She's boring holes into the back of Santana's head but the Latina doesn't even flinch. She's got a thick skull.

"Well, quit laughing and help me!" Quinn grits out and with a determined huff, pounds away on Rachel's door again. "Rachel, I've said I'm sorry! Would you please come out? Rachel!"

Sighing exaggeratedly, Santana pushes herself up from the cushions and pulls out a couple of hairpins from her hair.

"Move it, Tubbers." Quinn narrows her eyes and acquiesces. Something tells her it's not the first time Santana's done this.

Something jiggles and within a minute, there's a distinct click and Santana smirks while she turns the knob easily. "Try not to fuck it up again, Q," she mutters as Quinn brushes past her.

Closing the door behind her, Quinn takes a tentative step towards Rachel's bed. The owner of said bed is crouched into a ball, with her knees brought up to her chin as she leans against the headboard. There's a (petulant) frown and Rachel sniffs fiercely, all the while staring at the mattress beneath her. Quinn mimics her position on her left, grateful that it's a queen sized bed because she'd roll off if this was a single. It's a funny sight, the former head cheerio cowering away from Rachel Berry, former nobody in her formative years in McKinley.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

They stay silent for a minute as Quinn picks on a loose strand of a pillowcase, waiting for Rachel to yell, scream, cry, anything, but remain quiet. There's the latest top forty murmuring softly from Rachel's iPod somewhere in the corner. That, and Rachel's breathing hitching every few seconds.

"I don't even know why I'm this upset," Rachel finally mumbles after a few moments. Quinn nearly flies out of her skin because she was so engrossed in the moment. She angles her head closer to Rachel but doesn't speak.

"It's nothing really, and the logical part of me tells me it's just a joke. Move on and get over it. But then there's another part that feels- I don't want to be picked on, or, or left out of anything. You're my friends, I'm supposed to take a joke, not feel as though I'm being victimized in some scheme-" Her words get muffled in Quinn's sweater as the blonde pulls her into her arms, molding herself around Rachel's tiny frame.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Rachel," Quinn quietly murmurs over and over again. She's not just apologizing for today. They both know that.

Rachel's walls crumble immediately and she sinks into Quinn's embrace, crying into her arms and tightens her grip on Quinn's front. This was bound to happen at some point of their friendship as they progressed, that part was obvious. Quinn feels her heart splintering at every shudder Rachel makes and rocks them both back and forth, whispering apologies every now and then.

Her sobs gradually die down and her hands play with the hem of Quinn's sweatshirt, drawing ridiculous patterns over the material and breathing in Quinn. It's comforting and she's never felt safer among her friends. Rachel also knows it's dangerous - how quickly this safety can shatter, but what's worse, how fast she falls.

She's feeling embarrassed and becoming hyper aware of the situation. Laughing nervously, she tries to pull out of Quinn's arms but they tighten around her further and she feels Quinn's head shake. Well, she feels the shaggy blonde hair on her face more than anything.

"And I feel worse now because you trusted me, you came out to me, which I still feel is incredibly brave of you, and despite the fact that it was a pretense, I reacted negatively towards your relationship. Negatively! Me! I have two gay dads! However Quinn, it is in my place right now to seek your forgiveness for my brash attitude towards your prior announcement. It was uncalled for and totally contradictory to how I have been brought up to react. I need you to understand that I fully support your relationships, whether it comes in a heteronormative or otherwise, you have my full support and confidence. It was just, I was just, in a moment of- Quinn, the last time I messaged you, you said that you had an important announcement you wanted to tell me and I foolishly assumed that it was... related to me. Impractical and illogical in hindsight, since you gave no indication whatsoever-"

"-Rachel, sweetheart, you're rambling again and hey, hey it's okay," Rachel looks suitably chastised and tries to apologize, but Quinn cuts her off again. She looks up at Quinn and she's close enough to count her eyelashes.

"Anyway, I'm sorry to interrupt your ramble, well, no I'm not," Rachel sniffles indignantly, "but I had to or I'd lose my train of thought and then lose my nerve and I'll never be able to-"

"-now who's rambling."

"Shush. Okay, yes, part of the reason for me coming down here was to talk to you about that." Taking a deep breath, Rachel's struck with the intensity of the gold flecks of Quinn's eyes and, did they just grow a shade greener? Her heart is causing a such racket in her ribs that she's sure Quinn can hear it. Or Kurt or Santana. Or her folks back home.

Her eyes fall on Quinn's lips as her tongue peeks out to wet them, Quinn's that is, and she continues.

"Well, putting today aside, Rachel, I'm grateful for the friendship that we've built over the past year and a half. I love getting to know you as a person, how you respond to situations, how compassionate you truly are. Most of all, I'm grateful for the chance, the chances, that led me here. Both physically and emotionally. You've helped me grow, so much. You taught me kindness and how to see the light in things. Rachel," she pauses and looks down, straightening her posture, her lips smooth into a firm line and they lock eyes again, "I can't hide from you anymore. I can't continue this lie and pretend that this is enough, that I don't want more than this. I know this probably sudden and out of the blue for you and I'm sorry for springing this on you but I can't change my feelings and I don't want to keep anything from you. I know that this could potentially destroy what we've built but-"

"Mmm." Rachel hums plainly, looking at Quinn with an almost resigned expression.

"W-What?" Quinn falters, looking at Rachel with slight bewilderment.

"Hmm," Rachel hums again, suddenly with a strange air of confidence. Quinn's thoroughly confused by this point and she's sure that she hadn't asked her any questions or hang on, unless she meant that Quinn had gone ahead and ruined their relationship and ohmygod is this how rejection feels like she can't breathe, she needs to get out of here, Rachel's walls are up and everythingisruin-

"I have answers for you, Quinn, but you're rambling so much."

"Huh?" Quinn asks stupidly. In her defense, Rachel's throwing her out of the loop here.

"What I'm saying is, Quinn, I feel the same. I have feelings for you. And that's why when you started introducing Ashley, I couldn't think, I bolted because I felt that I didn't stand a chance. That there's no way Quinn Fabray would reciprocate my albeit slightly amorous, feelings. But you come in here and you hold me and tell me things that I only dream of. So at this point, my sanity is maintained only by the knowledge that this is in fact, a dream. And dreams end, so to cut to the chase, you should ask me out before I wake up."

"You... want to go out with me?"

"Hmm, you're definitely more eloquent in the other times but yes. I do."

"And you think you're dreaming?"

"Well, obviou-Ow, HEY !"

"I don't usually pinch you in your dreams, do I?"

"...no." It wasn't a whimper, no.

"..."

"..."

"Rachel?"

"Hmm?"

"You're absolutely insane."

Any retort is immediately flung out the window because, great merciful gods, Quinn's lips touches hers and it's painfully gentle. She tilts her head and their lips slide together, something clicks and Rachel almost gasps at how perfect they fit. They're softer, stronger and warmer than Rachel's ever imagined. She's flying and falling all at the same time.

Quinn pulls away first and Rachel's eyes flutter open at the loss of contact. When were they even closed? Their foreheads still touching and they're breathing the same air. The gold flecks are dancing and the green is swirling beautifully.

"Go on a date with me," Quinn whispers. Rachel's eyes searches hers, are you sure? Are you sure you want this? Want me? Us?

"Okay," she whispers back.

They spend the rest of the night holding each other and watch the snow fall for the first time. Snuggling further into Quinn, Rachel murmurs into Quinn that she'll thank Kurt for setting up that ridiculous date. Quinn snorts and hopes he knows what's coming to him.