Green Eyed Faberry

"Hey Quinn?" Rachel called.

"In the living room!"

Rachel found Quinn settled on the couch, reading a copy of Writer's Digest. "We still need to do our homework."

Quinn smiled. They were getting married in three months, and Minister Phillips of the New York Interfaith Congregation had them doing Pre-Marriage Counseling. They'd been nervous at first, but he'd assured them that it was normal.

"Just to make sure you know what you're getting into, and with whom," he'd said. "You wouldn't believe how many couples don't know, in fact."

So once a week they did some sort of assignment to think through their relationship. It hadn't been that bad, actually, though there were a few times they'd had to call Santana to settle a point of debate.

"What's the word today?" Quinn asked, shifting so she could hold Rachel.

"Jealousy."

"Oh, this will be awesome," Quinn said with a laugh.

"What is the dynamic of your relationship when it comes to jealousy?" Rachel read. "Is one of you deemed the 'Jealous One'? How do you work through issues of jealousy when they arise?"

Quinn laughed.

"You're the jealous one," Rachel said.

"How exactly do you figure that?" Quinn asked.

"Come on…. You remember that debacle with my roommate during freshman orientation."

"I think that's the last of it," Quinn panted. "Could you have brought more stuff with you?"

"Oh trust me, the answer's yes," Hiram said, laughing. "I'm going to go find your father. I think he's gotten himself lost."

Quinn sat next to Rachel on one of the beds and hugged her. "Looks…good."

"It's a shoebox."

"But it's your shoebox," Quinn told her, smiling. "You're in phase one of your New York dream, baby. I'm going to go back to the lounge. I think I saw a vending machine full of Gatorade, and I'm feeling a bit dehydrated after lugging your crap up four flights of stairs."

Rachel huffed. "Whatever. Bring me a purple one, if they have it."

"You got it," Quinn said, leaning down to kiss her. "Be back in a minute."

Rachel stood and began to organize her desk. She was just putting the picture of her and Quinn next to her computer when she heard the door open again.

"Hey."

"Hi," she said, turning around. "You must be Trisha."

The tall black girl with pink hair nodded. "Rachel, right?"

"Right."

"It's nice to meet you. Thanks for letting me have the top bunk."

"No problem. As a person of shorter stature, it's nice not to have to climb things."

They talked about everything and nothing for a while, until they heard someone clear their throat behind them.

"Quinn! I thought you'd gotten lost along with my dads," Rachel said.

"The vending machine on this floor didn't have purple," Quinn explained, not looking away from Trisha. "I had to go to the main floor."

"You're so sweet," Rachel said, kissing her on the cheek. "This is my roommate, Trisha. Trisha, this is my girlfriend, Quinn."

Quinn shook the other girl's hand. "Nice to meet you."

Rachel knew that voice. That was the HBIC coming out to play. "Quinn—"

"I think I saw your dads on the second floor looking at some sculptures, Rae bear. You should go grab them so we can go to lunch."

"Er…okay." She slipped her hoodie on. "Behave," she whispered to Quinn as she left.

"So…you're going to be living with my Rachel…." Quinn said, as the door closed.

"I wasn't that bad," Quinn said.

"She was terrified, Quinn," Rachel told her, rolling her eyes.

"That's nothing compared to your yearly temper tantrum…."

Rachel stormed through the apartment. Every frickin' year! She'd been totally neglected for the past two days. And now, all Quinn would talk about was HER. Damn it! She glowered at her girlfriend.

Quinn was laying on the couch, totally engrossed in a book.

"Quinn Fabray!"

Quinn jumped. "Rach? What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? You're neglecting me is what's wrong!"

"Honey—"

"Don't 'honey' me, Lucy! I want my girlfriend back!"

"Baby…."

"You always go off the deep end!"

The alarm on Quinn's phone went off. "Can we talk about this later? I have to go." She stood up and grabbed her baseball cap.

Rachel scowled, taking in her girlfriend's bright orange t-shirt. "Are you really going dressed as Annabelle?"

"Annabeth," Quinn corrected.

Rachel huffed again and flopped down onto the couch. "Fine. Go to your stupid Heroes of Olympus party."

Quinn leaned down and kissed her. "Just going to get my book signed and then I'm all yours again."

"At least I'm not jealous of a fictional character," Quinn said.

"Hush you. So we can agree that we're both jealous squirrels?"

"We do you always use animal analogies? But yes."

"So how do we work through it?"

Quinn smiled. "I have a feeling Minister Phillips would object to our real answer—angry sex."

Rachel laughed.