Hey everyone, welcome to my very first Faberry story! :D This is one of two one-shots that I wrote in response to the little contest I had at the end of the latest Finding Santana chapter (the answer was the dress price and bank balances being the same, too easy!). Yes, two! The e-mails from the first two people to find it came through at the exact same minute so I would've felt bad picking just one. Plus, I kind of needed a little breather from my other stories so I decided to write both while doing that.

So, this prompt was from ana-evelia and the idea behind it is Quinn having gone to school to be a psychiatrist, while Rachel went to Tisch. Quinn's reason for going into psychiatry is that after high school she underwent therapy (which I think we all know she needs!) to help cope with some of her issues, etc. and she then decided that she would like to help people in that way as well. The two meet by random chance and their friendship/relationship progresses from there, so it's meant to be sort of open ended. Also, the school mentioned is the school that Lady Gaga attended in NYC, I'm kind of in love with her and I needed a school, so yeah, that happened. Anyway, enjoy and happy New Year!

Shade Asylum, your one-shot is still in progress, sorry! I've been mega busy with the holidays!

Forcing Fate's Hand

For being in a particularly bright mood, the weather wasn't doing Quinn Fabray any favors by being drab and grayscale in a city that was already constructed of such colors. But weather aside, she was having a very above average day and considering the direction that her life had taken as of late, she would have to label herself as being more fortunate than she ever could have imagined. After thirteen years of schooling at Yale – including residency programs and more board examinations than she could count – it had finally paid off and she had been hired into a practice in the city specializing in child and adolescent psychiatry. She couldn't have been more thrilled or exhausted.

And even if it was causing her to have to overstep puddles and the occasional soggy piece of stray newspaper on the sidewalk, the rain could be damned. She walked toward her destination – the prominent Upper East Side school, Convent of the Sacred Heart – with the heels of her cream and cognac colored wingtips tapping in a smart rhythm against the pavement. The tweed of her custom tailored suit was wet at the cuffs, but with her umbrella propped over one shoulder it was no matter. Nothing could sway her confidence and she knew without a doubt that the short presentation she had prepared and tucked under her arm in a leather portfolio would be well received.

~F~A~B~E~R~R~Y~

Two blocks away and around the corner, Rachel Berry was cursing herself and wondering where all of her organizational skills had disappeared to throughout the years. Though given that she was a combination of successful Broadway actress, recording artist, professional vocal coach, newly appointed playwright and director, and most importantly one of the most recognized alumni of Tisch School of the Arts, no one could really blame her for having a few errors in her schedule. She just hoped that the instructors who had summoned her for the day could forgive her for showing up late, in a white shirt that was nearly saturated and see-through.

Technically, she wasn't even late to serve as a representative of her alma mater at one of the most prestigious schools in New York City, but in her terms she was more than just almost late. She was a complete and utter wreck of a person, who had overbooked herself and was having to jog down a busy street while still wiping stage makeup from her face. The persistent drizzle did somewhat aid in the process of removing the heavy concealer and blush, but it did nothing for the fluttering stack of pamphlets in her hand. Just like her long, dark hair – which she had curled and beaten the hair and makeup crew away from – they were going to be a droopy lost cause.

~F~A~B~E~R~R~Y~

"Good morning, girls," Quinn said to a group of three young girls who were toeing the edges of a deeply formed puddle with their mary jane shoes, giggling with mischief as they did so. They were students of the school she was approaching, it was made obvious by their little pinafore uniforms of red and white checkers and the way all of their heads popped up in unison when she spoke. "You're not supposed to be doing that, are you?" she asked with a knowing smile.

Two of the girls immediately stepped back from the puddle, but one only giggled some more before holding her foot over it, testing for Quinn's reaction. And despite what she probably thought would happen, Quinn just continued to smile and waved a farewell, adding in a light tone, "Don't get into too much trouble!"

She could tell they were confused as she walked away. It was almost certain that other adults in their lives would have demanded that they stop playing in the puddle lest they should stain the clothes that were way too expensive for a small child to be wearing anyway. But Quinn wasn't just any adult, she knew personally how it felt to have to grow up too fast and in her career she had witnessed a heartbreaking amount of children who had grown up even faster and who had gone through much worse. Those girls needed to play in that puddle, they needed to be innocent and carefree for as long as they could be. Although with the way some woman was swearing under her breath up ahead, it didn't seem that they would remain innocent for too much longer.

Striding forward to the door that the woman seemed to be struggling with, Quinn tipped her umbrella over the woman's head and took the door handle in her own hand. "Hey, easy. I've got you covered," she said, almost laughing at the comicalness of the situation and her own double entendre, which was as true as it was lame. But she hardly ever passed up a chance to be chivalrous and she never let an opportunity to flirt slip by. The fact that she chose to do it with an air of humor was just because it was something that she had found to be successful in the past.

"Thank you!" the short statured brunette huffed in relief and then forged ahead into the main lobby of the school. "I wasn't counting on this rain or the fact that I would be late!"

Quinn was left just outside the doors to fold up the umbrella; she may have been in a good mood, but she didn't need to risk any bad luck by bringing it indoors. "I can't say I really was either," she sympathized, smiling at the back of the brunette's head while hooking the cane handle of the umbrella inside the bend of her elbow. There was something inviting about that voice and she was suddenly looking forward to the woman turning around and hopefully introducing herself.

"You know, you're not really late," Quinn commented further, using the small talk as a means to put her new acquaintance at ease. She could see her desperately shaking water droplets from the pamphlets in her hand and just appearing frazzled in general. "The presentations won't be starting for another half an hour."

Chuckling at her predicament, the brunette turned on her black high heels, saying, "And how fortunate I am for that, because I'm quite sure you can see right through my shirt at the moment and –"

In the middle of smoothing the moisture from her hair – which she wore short and slicked back like she had sometimes done in high school – Quinn's hand stopped at the crown of her head and then limply fell back down to her side. Her mind had swiftly registered the familiar face in front of her but she couldn't process her thoughts enough to put them into words.

Luckily, the face in question belonged to someone who was rarely – if ever – at a loss for words. "Quinn! Oh my God!" Rachel gushed in rapid succession. She mirrored her former classmate's actions by running a hand through her unruly hair, stepping closer and then pausing. It was apparent that she was pleasantly surprised, yet somewhat thrown off due to the oftentimes strained history between them. "May I give you a hug?" she then asked, wearing a megawatt grin.

Quinn couldn't help but laugh at that in the warmest, most nostalgic way possible. The smile and the hug request brought her back to the McKinley choir room, where Rachel had given more smiles than anyone and the occasional hug after a fair warning. She didn't even have to respond before wrapping her arms around Rachel's trim waist and pulling their bodies flush together.

"I can't believe this," Quinn finally breathed out in disbelief, her words hushed as she held the other woman to her. "How long has it been?"

Rachel was completely stunned and she wasn't ready to respond just yet, but being the actress she was, she covered it well. For a moment, she just wanted to be a teenager again and listen to Quinn's husky voice speaking almost directly into her ear. It wasn't every day that she was reacquainted with someone she grew up with, someone who knew what it felt like to come from a small town and eventually break free from it. Actually, that never happened. The last time she had seen Quinn had been at random gatherings during the summer following senior year, just before they had all headed off to colleges and other new endeavors. There had been a class reunion to celebrate the tenth anniversary of their graduation, but with such a demanding show business career, Rachel had had to let go of the people from her past to embrace the dream she was finally living.

Eventually, Rachel pulled away but kept one hand on Quinn's upper arm. Like if she let go they might not see each other for another decade. "I think it's been like thirteen or fourteen years, something like that," she sputtered out, being shocked all over again by having to acknowledge just how much time had really passed between then and now. "It's crazy, but – but just look at you, all grown up!"

With a crooked smile, Quinn gave a slight shake of her head and looked to the well-worn floorboards under their feet. "Damn, and all along I've been trying not to grow up."

"It's fitting though," Rachel assured and then bit her bottom lip so that her teeth still showed. She was trying to resist mauling Quinn with another hug. She just couldn't get over how different the blonde looked, not in appearance but in presence. She was so put together and polished yet somehow still so inviting, which was something she had lacked in her earlier years. "So distinguished and all," the brunette went on and then reached out her hand. "With your bowtie and your suit, that's so adorable, I ought to call you Blaine Warbler!"

"You could," Quinn laughed in genuine amusement after Rachel gave the bow an affectionate tweak. "It wouldn't be too far off." Considering the bowties and the gayness, that is.

Imperceptibly – or at least she hoped – Quinn gave Rachel a more thorough once-over. They were both only in their early thirties, but after such a span of time the changes were easy to see and it was evident that they weren't teenagers anymore. Rachel still had that certain fresh faced brightness about her though, the kind that made her eyes glint and her laugh lines show a bit deeper. Also, her shirt was pretty much see-through.

"So, may I ask why you're here today," Rachel asked politely. Then, remembering what Quinn had ever so slyly discovered, she began tugging at her shirt attempting to air it out. But she didn't allow enough pause for a response before her head was quickly snapping up. "Oh my goodness, you don't have a daughter that goes here, do you!"

That comment brought Quinn from her slight stupor in record time. "Ha! No, no…not even close," she said, and then did a check of her own by peering at Rachel's left hand – no wedding ring. "Actually, I'm here as an alumni representative for the Yale psychology and psychiatry department."

Rachel, not even able to help herself, grabbed Quinn's sleeve again and gave it an excited tug. "No way! I'm representing for Tisch!"

"Really?" Quinn quizzed, beginning to lose some of her rigid professionalism in favor of catching up with her old classmate. "I thought you were going to NYADA?"

"Change of plans," Rachel shrugged. And unfortunately, instead of explaining herself further, she looked up and down the surrounding hallways at the other people milling about. "Well, I suppose we should get ready. Or at least I should, I need to dry out before I get up on any stage."

"Right, of course…I should probably run through my notes one last time." Quinn said as she nodded in agreement and shifted her portfolio into her hand.

Rachel waved her hand in a gesture of dismissal. "Oh, please, you look like you give these types of lectures every day. You'll be wonderful," she said, and then winked before turning in the opposite direction and walking off toward some undisclosed destination.

"Thanks?" Quinn whispered quietly to herself, somewhat confused but mostly unsurprised as she watched the brunette retreat. It would have been ridiculous to think that Rachel wouldn't still be a whirlwind of energy and although Quinn didn't think that it was done to be harmful, she would probably always have that streak of vanity about her as well.

~F~A~B~E~R~R~Y~

Rachel's presentation went off without a hitch and Quinn proudly watched it all unfold from the front row of the auditorium seats. From the raucous applause she received due to her celebrity status right down to the perfectly animated speech she gave about the benefits and advantages of going to Tisch School of the Arts. Usually, singing and acting were her forte, but as Quinn watched her on stage it was apparent that Rachel Berry's only home was and always would be in the limelight.

In between waiting for other presenters to finish their preaching, the two cast shy glances at each other from across the aisle. It seemed that each time one of them would lean forward the other would too, causing their eyes to lock and for their heads to swivel away with a soft smile.

When Quinn took the microphone and began pacing the stage in a confident measured gait, while giving facts about dreams, the subconscious and a myriad of other things that could only be classified as interesting, it was Rachel's turn to be impressed. Because not only had the blonde introduced herself as "Dr. Quinn Fabray," she also brought that title to life and showed just how different she truly was. The girl that Rachel had both looked up to and reassured at times was now a woman who had grown into all of the greatness that she had hoped for her to be. The emotional hardships and insecurities had been broken through to find self assuredness and maturity.

Oh God, she's some highfalutin doctor now and I called her bowtie adorable. Rachel was mentally berating herself, but with the way she was smiling and clapping as Quinn took her seat again no one would have ever known. She just hoped that she would get another chance to prove that she had grown up too. And after another forty-five minutes of presentations that seemed to pale in comparison to Quinn's, it seemed that she would get that chance.

~F~A~B~E~R~R~Y~

"You're still here," Rachel observed as soon as she entered the lobby once again and found the blonde looking over a display of student artwork, hands clasped behind her back.

"So I am," Quinn answered playfully. "And that's because it's still raining…"

The brunette's face fell, already anticipating a walk back to her car in the downpour but secretly wondering if Quinn was planning to save her day again. "Still?"

Quinn nodded her solemnity and then echoed, "Still…but!I was thinking that maybe my trusty umbrella and I could be your escort."

Since there were no students leftover in the hallways by that time, Rachel didn't think that a little saucy teasing (dare she say flirting?) would harm anyone. "Escort? Dr. Fabray, I thought you were a psychiatrist," she stated with some disappointment. "I'd hate to think that you were misrepresenting Yale while you were up on that stage raving about your fancy career."

Instead of getting flustered by the ribbing she was getting, Quinn recognized the game that was being played, arched a brow and closed the gap between them to lower her head beside Rachel's. "Don't tempt me." She was nearly certain that she could push the envelope farther if she wanted to and want she did. "I could leave you wet…"

Rachel's mouth hung open for a moment while her eyes went blank, but she recovered quickly and met Quinn's smirk with one of her own. It did nothing to cover her growing blush though.

"Come on," Quinn eventually chuckled, breaking the spell. "Let me walk you to your car," she said and then gestured to the doors. "Oh, but wait! You should have this…"

"What? No, no! I shouldn't," Rachel tried, not wanting the blonde to remove her suit jacket any more than she already had. But it was too late, she had already shrugged it off to reveal the off-white shirt and the vest that she wore over it. "Really, you don't have to do that! I'm fine, I –"

"Nonsense," Quinn disagreed and then draped the jacket over the brunette's shoulders, immediately liking the way it looked on her. "We wouldn't want you to get all see-through again."

Just minutes later, the two were dodging passersby in the rain and giggling together like the school girls they had just presented for and the ones they themselves used to be.

"Remember when we did that mash-up of Singin' in the Rain and Umbrella?" Rachel asked excitedly, as they bowed their heads to avoid the spray hitting their faces.

Quinn was wincing and grappling against the gusts of wind, attempting to keep Rachel dry and keep up with her chattering. "Yeah, at least that rain was controlled." Rachel broke into peals of laughter and she couldn't deny that it was endearing. She was used to conversing with children and stuffy older doctors, so being in Rachel's company was like a breath of fresh air – no pun intended.

Pointing up ahead and then upturning her palm to catch some raindrops, Rachel announced, "There's my car."

Carrara white Porsche with tinted windows…obviously she doesn't have many student loans to pay off, Quinn mused to herself as she continued to shield Rachel, who was searching for her keys.

Once she found them, she ducked into the car and started the engine but left the door open. That's where Quinn stood, waiting somewhat awkwardly for the parting words that neither one of them was exactly sure how to form.

"So, what now?" Rachel quizzed, squinting as she looked up. She didn't want to let the woman standing in front of her just skate right out of her life again, but she did feel bad making her wait in the rain.

"What do you mean?"Quinn all but shouted over the noise of the traffic.

"Well, you heard what that statistician said…there's probably like a one in gazillion chance that we'll ever run into each other like this again."

"Actually, I didn't hear that. He was so boring that I nearly fell asleep."

Rachel scoffed and nudged Quinn's shoe with her own in chiding disapproval. "Quinn, that's awful! I'm sure being a statistician is a very rewarding position!"

"I liked that historian guy better," Quinn said, shrugging one shoulder but revealing through her smile that she thought his presentation had been as equally boring. Or maybe she just liked smiling at Rachel and making her smile in return, she couldn't really find a difference anymore and she didn't really know why either. "He was talking about those ancient Greeks and maybe just like them it was our fate to meet like this. If we did anything more, that might be like trying to force fate's hand."

"Don't go all philosophical on me, Quinn Fabray, just give me your cell phone," Rachel demanded and then held out her hand.

Tossing her head, Quinn patted her side and came up empty. "It's in my jacket…"

"Ah, even better," Rachel said in a sly tone, as she slid her hand into the jacket pocket and then held up the cell phone for show before entering her number into it. "Now, you have no choice but to run into me again."

While Rachel had been fiddling with the phone, Quinn had been doing some deep thinking that would probably turn out to be irrational once she really thought it over. But she just couldn't help it. "How about we run into each other on Friday night at my apartment…say, seven o'clock? Just a casual dinner to catch up?" she suddenly blurted out. The sane part of her brain was telling her that Rachel would be busy and that that would be better for both of them, but the tiny sliver that used to have a bit of a crush on Rachel in high school was telling her that she'd probably die if the invitation didn't work out.

"Uhh…" Rachel hesitated for a moment while her ecstatic, inward thoughts skyrocketed. Was Quinn proposing a date? Had she finally realized that during the entire time that they had been stuck in a love triangle with Finn Hudson that they should have been dating each other? No, she's just offering a friendly dinner! Self control, Rachel, self control! "That'd be fun!"

"You're not busy?" Quinn tested, wanting to make sure that she wasn't putting her on the spot.

"Nope!" Truthfully, Rachel was busy and it was going to be more than just her own schedule that would have to be rearranged. But surely pissing off a few people would be worth not letting Quinn down.

"Perfect, I'll call you and give you more details later. I'm really glad we met up today, I'll see you soon," the blonde said and then took the handle of the car door, meaning to close it.

"Sounds great! You too – I mean um, I was glad to see you too – am! I am glad!" Rachel's behavior could only be classified as tripping all over herself and soon she had no other choice but to close her mouth and just force a smile. But then another thought flitted into her mind. "Your jacket, I almost forgot! Here, let me just –"

"No," Quinn said slowly, beginning to edge the door closed. "Keep it until Friday…I would've let you keep it anyway." And after that she was off, leaving Rachel to contemplate what she had just gotten herself into.

~F~A~B~E~R~R~Y~

"I'm so stupid," Rachel muttered to herself as she watched the levels in the elevator ascend. Soon she would be face to face with Quinn – again – and without anyone or anything serving as a buffer between them. They were going to have to entertain themselves, struggling through any lingering awkwardness without aid. The comment Quinn had made about leaving her wet had left her just that – wet. But it had nothing to do with the rain and had everything to do with the scintillation in the blonde's hazel eyes. It was going to make for an interesting evening.

While testing the weight of the bottle in her hand and rereading the label to distract from her nerves, Rachel also contemplated whether or not it would be obvious if she took a few slugs for sanity's sake. But maybe the addition of a flask would have been a better idea.

When the elevator pinged her arrival, she checked herself from black suede booties up to sleek, straightened hair. It was only then that she noticed that her ensemble was composed entirely of black. And as she fretted about what deep underlying message of doom psychiatrist Quinn might draw from the color scheme, the doors smoothly slid open and revealed the very person she was worrying about in the same anxious state.

Quinn was practically hopping on one foot and tugging at the heeled grey oxford on the other, while looking as if she had just been caught in a compromising position. "I was late coming home from work," she hurriedly spewed in explanation, eyes wide and still appearing as if she hadn't been expecting a guest at all.

Still fixated on her outfit and feeding off of Quinn's evident discomfort, Rachel tumbled into full panic mode. "I overdressed!" she said mostly to herself as she observed Quinn's work attire, which was much the same as the last time they had been together.

"We didn't have to –"

"Well, it's not like you –"

As the two tried to speak over each other, the elevator saw it fit to cut them off and it was Quinn who stuck her forearm between the doors to stop them from closing. "I'm going to start over again," she said after taking a breath, and then offered her hand. "Please come in, let me take your coat…"

The way in which Quinn was forcing herself to be calm made Rachel crack a smile; she had been so suave before, but apparently it had been lost somewhere between their first and second meeting. Not knowing if she was meant to take the hand or put her coat into it, she instead gave Quinn the wine bottle and took her coat off as she fully entered the apartment.

"I think that may be of more use to you," Rachel informed lightly. "Probably to both of us." Her tone and the smile on her face alluded to the joke.

Sighing, Quinn expelled some of her anxiety, set the wine on a nearby console and took the coat to hang in the closet. "From the way we're acting I wouldn't doubt it." As she hung the coat, she noted the warmth still clinging to it and the scent of perfume that emanated from it. She wanted to bury her face in it or better yet do the same to Rachel's neck, but the opportunity for a welcoming hug had passed and she just really needed to settle down.

When Quinn had taken the bottle again and turned around, Rachel couldn't help but to strangely blurt out, "You don't think it's weird that I'm wearing black, do you?"

"Why would I?" Quinn asked slowly, her brows coming together like she was expecting it to be some sort of trick question for which she had no answer. "Should I?" Great, Dr. Fabray, now you sound like Dr. Seuss.

Talking quickly with her hands, Rachel went about trying to explain herself. "I'm not really sure," she admitted, her eyes moving from the floor to her waving hands to anything else that wasn't the person in front of her. "As there can be so many different, hidden meanings in music, I didn't know if there was also some psychological meaning behind wearing black on a first da – "

The last word didn't need to be finished for both of their expressions to go blank as they stared at each other. "First date?" Quinn finished experimentally, knowing that it was stupid to even wonder if Rachel could have been aiming for a different word. She was definitely going to say date and it made her adrenaline start to thrum.

"Uhh," Rachel squeaked even more embarrassingly. "How about that wine?"

~F~A~B~E~R~R~Y~

"Stupid fucking cork," Quinn cursed down at the bottle clamped between her thighs. With one hand on the neck and the other holding the cork over a dishtowel, needless to say it looked like she was doing something unmentionable. And with the way things had been going she fully expected Rachel to walk in as it exploded all over her lap – pun definitely intended. Leave it to Rachel Berry to make her flounder in every way possible, she was sure this was her karma.

"So, what made you choose this?" Rachel called from the living room, where she was slowly exploring the environment that was home to a former foe. There were books on the table that were several inches thick, along with three or four manila folders that had a pair of reading glasses lying over them. It all appeared very important and confidential and she didn't dare disturb the set up.

After finally having gotten the cork out without too much of a mess, Quinn entered the room with two filled glass goblets. She couldn't decide if her nervousness was increasing or decreasing, but at least she could speak properly and she had liquid courage as well. "Choose what?" she asked, as she handed over one of the glasses. But once her eyes found the frame on the wall that Rachel was studying – her Yale diploma – she needed no further explanation. "Ah, the question of all questions," she laughed a little. "Well, if you must know…"

"Of course, I must," Rachel stated matter-of-factly. But then, noticing that it seemed that Quinn had not realized her playfulness, she added, "I mean, only if you want to tell me…"

"No, no…it's not that I don't want to tell you," the blonde said, shaking her head and sipping her wine. "It's just that I…well, it's kind of a personal reason. I –"

"You don't have to tell me!" Rachel cut in. The last thing either of them needed was to dredge up anything that was too weighty to be dealt with during their "casual dinner."

Pinning the other woman with serious eyes, but using a voice that belied that seriousness, Quinn said softly, "Let me finish…"

"Sorry, Doctor," Rachel whispered, which earned her an eye roll and a smirk.

"As I was saying," Quinn went on. "It's personal, but you're someone I grew up with and I trust you won't judge me." Hearing that gave Rachel a little rush of excitement and she couldn't help but liken having Quinn's trust to receiving some kind of an award; having either one was a rarity. "So…during my first semester at Lima Community College I pretty much reached the rock bottom that I had been working my way to and once I got there I didn't really know what to do, so I didn't do anything…"

Rachel held her glass still in her hands, not wanting to be rude or detract from what was being said. "Go on…"

"I stopped going to my classes and I started failing everything," Quinn said somewhat absently, thinking back to that bleak period in her life. Then, she did something surprising and her eyes became just the slightest bit misty as she smiled at nothing. "It's kind of funny actually, now that I think about it…now that you're here," she said, blinking and looking up as she started to focus again. "It was Shelby who eventually helped me. I guess she was really the only one who would see me at my worst…that being whenever she invited me to visit Beth."

To Rachel, the confession stung a little. To that very day she only spoke to her mother off and on throughout the years. But even if she had never truly experienced it for herself, she knew that Shelby was a good person and if she was able to help Quinn and Beth, then she couldn't condemn her for that.

"Is that too much?" Quinn asked when the brunette gave no reply. She had always wondered what Rachel might think about the situation, but until then she had never really considered the possibility that Rachel would randomly end up in her apartment on a Friday night.

"No," Rachel smiled genuinely, although not without some obvious disappointment. "I'm glad she did that for you. What happened afterward?"

"She found me someone to talk to and then that combined with antidepressants helped me to get my life back on track. I picked my grades up and eventually got into Yale, and then I finally figured out what I wanted to do with my future…I wanted to help people." Quinn gave a huffed, humorless laugh and then tossed her head. "Who would have imagined? Quinn Fabray, the biggest bitch in Lima wanting to help people."

Setting her glass down, Rachel caught Quinn off guard when she suddenly took her hand and held her fingers over her own. "Quinn…"

"What?" Her voice cracked due to the touch and the subject and she cleared her throat, hoping it wouldn't happen again.

"In high school you weren't the person you were meant to be, but now you are and it comes as no surprise that you've chosen the career you have," Rachel told her as she circled her thumb over soft skin. "You were always an amazing woman, you just didn't always know how to show everyone else."

Quinn didn't speak, but instead looked down at their joined hands and then slowly eased hers away. "Thank you, I hope you're right…should we um…make dinner now? I was going to do it myself but then I ran late and yeah, you know what I mean," she said, gesturing down to her clothing.

Wanting to ease away from the heavy conversation, Rachel giggled but nodded her agreement as well. "I can't say that I'll really be much help, but I can take direction…"

~F~A~B~E~R~R~Y~

Watching Quinn because she had yet to be given direction, Rachel nursed her wine as they chatted about things that were mundane to themselves but brand new information to each other. "So, why don't you have a wife yet?" she suddenly asked, uncaring as to whether or not she was being too blunt. She wanted to know why someone as attractive and established as Quinn was living alone in a city filled with millions of people. Plus, she had already flipped through a photo album she had found on a shelf and accidentally came across a picture of Quinn and who she assumed to be an ex-girlfriend engaged in a cutesy lip lock. It wasn't surprising and Rachel wasn't one for skirting the issue.

"Nothing like getting straight to the point," Quinn chuckled as she pulled a large knife from the block that held the rest. Internally, her stomach had rolled over and she could practically feel her right eyelid getting ready to twitch as it did when she was stressed. Should've believed her when she said she had a sixth sense.

"But seriously, I was in school all throughout my twenties. When would I have had time to get married to anyone? Now, why don't you have a…?" She pointed the tip of the knife in Rachel's direction and arched her brow in a way that was so characteristic of her as she trailed off expectantly.

The action gave Rachel more enjoyment than what was probably appropriate and she scoffed teasingly, before answering, "A husband or a wife. Well, I was playing like a thousand different roles throughout my twenties. I basically lived at the theatre and I barely had any time for myself when I was pretending to be everyone else. That's why."

"Fair enough," Quinn stated easily, and then asked, "Grab me a lemon from the fridge?"

They were growing more comfortable with one another and Rachel thought nothing of the request. But she was bothered by the way Quinn had so easily dodged her questions and she was determined to dig deeper. "Now, tell me something else. It's been forever and I know at least a few things must've happened between then and now," she said as she opened the door to the refrigerator and then released a perfectly controlled, classically trained, glass shattering scream.

"What! What's wrong?" Quinn shouted frantically after nearly chopping off a few fingers. She was holding Rachel by the shoulders before she could even comprehend what had happened, forcing the brunette to look up at her.

"You have an animal in your refrigerator," Rachel eked out pitifully. She sounded like she might legitimately break down into tears and a fact that had been long forgotten surfaced in Quinn's brain – Rachel was vegan. And the lobster under the wet cloth that she had encountered was undoubtedly a major turn-off.

"Shit…" Quinn hung her head and squeezed at her forehead with her hand, already feeling a headache of epic proportions coming on due to an epic failure.

"You forgot, didn't you?" Rachel asked quietly, patting the blonde's shoulder with empathy.

"Like you said, it's been forever and yes, I forgot…"

"Now, I feel bad…"

Quinn tossed a hand into the air and began pacing the kitchen; it was a bad habit she had started during graduate school. "I feel worse!"

Rachel scowled in confusion. "If you feel so bad now, why were you going to eat the poor creature in the first place?"

"I meant I feel bad for forgetting you're vegan!" Quinn exclaimed in annoyance and then immediately felt even worse for doing so.

"Oh," Rachel murmured quietly and then began smiling again, projecting her earlier confusion onto Quinn. "That's kind of sweet…I mean, it has been a long time and there's no reason to beat yourself up over the fact that you forgot."

With a purposeful look, Quinn eyed the brunette with no amusement. "But it would have been nice of me to remember because now I have no idea what to feed you."

"I can feed myself," Rachel pointed out, mocking the other woman by arching her brow as high as she could.

Quinn couldn't help but laugh at that. "Smart ass," she said, running a hand through her hair. "Now, come on. I guess we're going out."

"Perfect!" Rachel chirped enthusiastically. "That way we can bring the lobster back to his home!"

~F~A~B~E~R~R~Y~

With a little concentrated crease between her brows, Rachel swirled the red liquid around the walls of the glass where it was contained and tried to remember how many glasses she had had already. They had been back in Quinn's apartment for well over an hour, talking, laughing, drinking and reminiscing on all of the past experiences they had shared – some good and some bad. "Are you drunk, Quinn?

Quinn appeared just as focused as she fought to pick up a piece of tofu from her vegetable stir fry with chopsticks, but really she was pondering Rachel's question. She knew she wasn't truly drunk, but after flirting her way through the city with a woman she thought she used to hate she definitely felt like she was drunk on something. "I just helped you release a lobster into the Hudson. If I'm not drunk then I don't know what I am." Throwing her chopsticks onto the table, she huffed, "I give up," and then relaxed back into the couch.

"Tipsy, at least. That's what I am," Rachel announced in a sluggish manner. Her eyelids were heavy in an adorable way and her face held a rosy flush from a combination of the wine and the walk they had taken in the late fall atmosphere.

Quinn didn't show any acknowledgement to the words, but to herself she did think of the implications of them. Inhibitions were becoming increasingly low; they had already held hands several times throughout the evening and it seemed that their time together wasn't even close to ending yet. Rachel was admittedly tipsy and showing no signs of wanting to leave. In her head, Quinn could only think of one thing that would be most logical. And since she had wanted to do it since she was sixteen, she was rationalizing it with the argument of no time like the present.

They sat in silence for a few more moments and then as was typical, Rachel just couldn't hold her tongue any longer. "Is this a date or is this just two friends having dinner together?"

"I don't know anymore," Quinn answered honestly, the alcohol in her system giving her the brazenness to speak before even thinking the comment through. It didn't help that her company seemed to be reading her mind as well.

"Well, I don't know either!" Rachel giggled and then brought her legs up onto the couch and put her chin on her knees. She raised her glass to her lips again, grinning and sipping her wine in her childish position. Then using her foot she nudged Quinn's thigh and giggled some more.

Quinn turned and did the same with her own drink, keeping their eye contact locked until finally she set her glass aside, preparing to move onto something better. As she continued to look into Rachel's eyes, she knelt on the couch and leaned forward, taking the glass from the brunette's grasp and setting it beside its mate. Her hands found the tops of Rachel's knees and she looked down at her unwaveringly, searching for approval or any evidence of displeasure. Then, after not finding either, she took a chance and with a cautious and gentle approach she took Rachel's leg behind the knee and pulled it out straight, repeating it with the other when she had finished.

Once Rachel was lying fully on her back with Quinn kneeling in front of her, she became hyperaware of the knee that was resting between her own. "Are you really drunk?" she asked, suddenly sounding completely sober herself and a bit breathless. She reached up and placed a hand on the blonde's shoulder and one at her side, feeling the rapid rise and fall.

"No, not at all," Quinn said evenly. Boldly, she shifted her leg forward until her knee was nestled closely between Rachel's thighs, making her eyes close and then flutter open again. And it was then that she took advantage of the moment of vulnerability and settled atop Rachel, bridging the distance between their lips in the process.

The heavy exhale against her cheek and the jutting of Rachel's chin to meet her let Quinn know that she hadn't made a mistake in judgment.

After becoming closer than they had ever been in just seconds, Rachel pulled her head back and licked her lips, tasting where Quinn had just been. This was her last chance to ask questions because with a thigh pressed right up against her she knew her resolve would be quick to crumble. "Are you going to regret this in the morning?" She slid her fingers past the collar of Quinn's white shirt and into her hairline, scraping lightly with her nails as she waited. Considering Quinn was the one to make the first move, she hoped that there would be no regrets. She knew that she wouldn't regret it herself. How could she when she had always thought of Quinn as the woman she could never have?

Placing her hands on either side of the armrest, Quinn lowered her head and kissed just below Rachel's ear, pressing tenderly, reassuringly. "Would you believe me if I told you that I had a crush on you in high school?" she asked in her raspy voice, which was made even more so by her lust and desire.

Taking the collar that she had passed by before, Rachel rolled the expensive fabric between her fingertips. The slight tug and pull strained at the back of Quinn's neck and she had no choice but to move closer. "I think I always knew," the brunette admitted, shutting her eyes and savoring the lips on her neck and the weight against her. "But this isn't high school."

"Shh," Quinn urged as she took Rachel's jaw in her hand, moving it just so and using the new position to kiss down to her collarbone. "I'm not going to regret this…we're not going to regret this…"

Since the collar was already in her hands it was easy for Rachel to jerk Quinn's head away from her neck and hold their foreheads together. "Don't be cocky. I know you're different now, but I haven't forgotten how you used to be…"

Quinn closed her eyes, feeling guilt and shame and the breath against her lips. "I didn't mean it like that…I meant that we won't regret it because we've been waiting so long." Then, realizing that she did regret her actions and that she had made a mistake, she began untangling herself and sitting up. "I'm sorry, you think this is just about sex…"

"No, I don't," Rachel said, using another quick jerk to bring Quinn back. "I just think we're moving fast." She touched her nose to Quinn's and brushed it back and forth before kissing her again. "Besides, who said we were having sex?"

"Oh my God," Quinn laughed a little while blushing fiercely and hiding her face in dark hair.

"What?" Rachel laughed as well.

"This is so awkward…"

Rachel looked down at herself. Her short black dress had ridden up her hips to expose her equally black panties and her knees were bent, hugging either side of Quinn's waist. "I'm not so sure," she said, running her hands down to the back of the blonde's belt and curling them around it. "I think I kind of like this."

Quinn somewhat shifted onto her side but kept most of her body on top of Rachel and then set her head in her hand. Her free hand was kept busy by smoothing over a bare hipbone, where skin had inadvertently been exposed between panties and dress. "I like it too…but um," she was barely keeping herself in check, "maybe we should just talk some more or…"

"Talk like this?" Rachel temptingly wondered aloud, her breath hitching when the hand on her stomach moved closer to the midline of her muscles.

Glancing up, Quinn met Rachel's dark eyes and it was wordlessly conveyed that they weren't going to go any further than kissing but that they weren't going to be doing much talking either. "Yeah, like this…"

~F~A~B~E~R~R~Y~

It was some time in the wee hours of the morning when Rachel awoke from her teenage-esque make-out induced slumber with the lights still on and soft breathing in her ear. She couldn't help but smirk as she lifted her head from Quinn's chest and carefully tucked the short blonde hair that had come loose from its hairspray behind her ear.

"Quinn, it's like three in the morning," she whispered, meaning to wake her up but not wanting to all at once. She touched a gentle kiss to her temple. "I have to go."

"Mmm," Quinn moaned low in her throat, sinking her fingertips further into Rachel's waist. "Stay…" There was only a short hesitation before Rachel made the very easy decision and got up off the couch, making the leather creak and Quinn's bleary eyes reluctantly open. "What're you –"

Raising her finger to her lips, Rachel murmured softly, "Shh, I'm just getting the lights."

Quinn smiled sleepy and closed her eyes again, making the brunette wonder if she was even fully conscious. After turning out the lights and stumbling her way back to the couch, Rachel took up her previous position and covered them with the blanket that had fallen to the floor earlier in the evening. They didn't really need the covering, but with Quinn's shirt mostly unbuttoned and her own dress askew it gave them some sense of decency. Then, she watched Quinn's unmoving profile for a few seconds before placing another kiss on her cheek and deciding that she definitely preferred choosing her own fate.

~F~A~B~E~R~R~Y~

"Rachel Berry is on my couch!" Quinn spoke frantically into her cell phone, while trying to tame her sleep maddened hair. She was standing in front of the full length mirror in her bedroom, sporting a small, pinkish hickey on her neck and yesterday's rumpled clothes.

"So, she finally decided to get help, huh?"

"Santana! Not that couch! My couch! My couch in my apartment!" Quinn hissed in clarification. "And we kissed last night! We kissed a lot!"

There was a bought of hysterical laughter on the other end of the line during which the blonde rolled her eyes and nearly stomped her foot in frustration. "Oh my God, the poor woman is finally trying to help herself and you brought her back to your apartment to bone?" Santana asked for her own personal enjoyment, then swiftly added, "Ah snap, mami didn't mean to say that…just go play in the living room!"

"Tell Britt and the kids I said hi, but first give me some advice!" Quinn pleaded with her, unsympathetic to the fact that Santana was adding to the cursing habit that she and Brittany's young daughters had already picked up.

"You always did have a huge girl crush on her in high school... now you're a full blown lesbian with nothing but girl crushes, so you know, maybe this is your chance."

Sighing, Quinn threw herself onto her bed on her back and vaguely wished that that was where Rachel was asleep instead of the couch. "I can't believe I just heard Santana Lopez say that to me…"

"Yeah, well, neither can I," Santana answered. "But I am a very mature, grounded woman these days. So, I'm going to give it to you straight…actually, un-straight…just go for it! You're adults and you're living in a very different world than you were in high school. If it's meant to be, it's meant to be."

"This is so weird…"

"You're a weirdo and you work with weirdos all day, don't tell me you weren't expecting this."

"I don't work with weirdos, they're just not as into themselves as you are. Ugh, what is my life?" Quinn continued to grumble. She trained her line of vision on the open door as she spoke, wanting to make sure that Rachel hadn't been woken by the sound. She really didn't know what she was supposed to do with herself. In the heat of the moment and the middle of the night, it had seemed like a perfect idea to have Rachel stay over, but now things were becoming awkward again.

"It's a mess, now go get your woman," Santana instructed as nonchalantly as ever, the background noises on her end making it obvious that she was doing some sort of motherly multitasking.

"Thanks for the advice," Quinn said sarcastically, hoping that Santana took notice of just how unhelpful she had been.

Santana hummed into the phone with feigned sweetness. "You're welcome. Just call me Dr. Lopez!"

The blonde turned over onto her stomach and kicked her feet in the air but it did little to relieve her nervous tension. "You are a doctor, dumbass." However, affectionately insulting her friend did make her feel somewhat better.

"Ha! You're right!" Santana laughed. "But at least I get to hack people up, they're quieter than your freaks."

"I'm hanging up now. You have insufficiently served your purpose…"

"'Kay, adios! Be sure to bring Rachel over to meet her new nieces soon! Love you, boo!"

"We're not – ugh, whatever! Love you too, Santana. Bye."

"I'm hoping that's a platonic love because I can't imagine you and Santana getting a long that well…"

Quinn nearly rolled off the side of the bed while trying to find the voice that had spoken to her and when she found Rachel standing in the doorway – her arms crossed over her chest and her hair in disarray – she could already feel herself starting to get warm.

"Good morning," Rachel continued before the blonde even had a chance to speak. She walked further into the room and flopped down on the empty side of the bed. "You told me to stay, so don't act so surprised to see me."

Getting her bearings back together, Quinn resituated herself on her back again and then looked at her new bedmate, who was on her front with her cheek smashed to the mattress. "I'm not, I'm actually glad to see you…" Only half of Rachel's smile was visible and her eyes were closed, but the message was understood nevertheless.

"So, what does all of this mean, Doctor?" Rachel asked in a quiet voice, while sliding her hand across the comforter and then leaving it there palm up.

Quinn touched her fingertips to each one of Rachel's before linking them fully together. "You really like that, don't you?"

"It's pretty sexy," Rachel said, but then sat up when she remembered something else. "Which reminds me, I forgot to bring your jacket back."

"What does that have to do with anything?' Quinn quizzed with a knowing smile. Then she used their entwined hands to guide Rachel back down, bringing their bodies closer together than they had been before.

"Well, you looked –" She cut herself off when she realized the trap she had fallen into and swatted Quinn's stomach, which resulted in both of their hands being clasped together.

"I looked sexy, you mean?"

Rachel rolled her eyes and Quinn couldn't help but laugh as they lied on their sides grinning at one another. "You know, this could work," she eventually said. "But it's really going to drive me crazy if you're going to be analyzing me all the time."

Quinn raised herself onto an elbow and traced her index finger over Rachel's lips, liking how she flinched from the tickling sensation. "Then for now, maybe we shouldn't talk so much…"

So, there is it, I've officially lost my Faberry cherry! Hope you all liked it! :)