Quinn goes to the same coffee shop every day. It's a local one, the kind of shop that the owner buys the grains of coffee from organic producers just outside the town. She likes to think that if she buys organic coffee, she can drink just one more cup at the end of the day because it's organic, so it should be healthy.
Quinn likes routine, so she always makes the same order: large cup, two sugars, one cream, thank you and sits in the very same table at the corner of the shop. It's a ritual, really. Get into the shop, order up, sit down in her favorite table and pick up a book from her purse. Sometimes she makes notes about what she's reading. Other times, she writes ideas of her own.
Today is different, though. She turns to go to her corner and is surprised to see someone already sitting in her spot. Her spot. Quinn has the sudden urge to drag the brunette girl by her bangs out of her table. But doesn't. The girl isn't a regular – she would notice her before – so she sits at a different table. Just for today, she tells herself. Quinn tries to focus on her book and it doesn't work. It feels weird not be sitting in her table so she tries to write instead. Taking a gulp from her liquid inspiration Glorious coffee!, she thinks as she puts pen into paper and instead of poetries she finds herself writing a chronicle about a table-stealing brunette. It isn't bad, per see; it's a little outside her comfort zone but she doesn't see herself submitting the chronicle to the newspaper contest. She knows that she won't be able to do anything productive, so she sighs, gets up from the seat and leaves the coffee shop.
The next day she comes into the shop five minutes early than her usual time and manages to get her table. With her favorite spot, favorite drink and favorite little notebook, she begins to write, words flowing effortlessly from her pen into the paper. She sighs, but this time out of satisfaction. It feels good to write and it feels good to not having any disruptions. She loses the notion of time and space and only come to herself when she stops the pen for a second, to take a gulp at the coffee. That's when she sees the brunette from the day before looking at her. The stranger doesn't look away even when Quinn lifts one eyebrow. In fact, she gives her a little smile and when Quinn doesn't smile back, she frowns. After the girl left and Quinn is happy with all that she wrote – three poems and one story about the brunette – she leaves the coffee shop with a wave to the barista. Walking home she remembers the cute smile the stranger sent her and tells herself that if the girl ever gives her another smile, she will smile back.
One week later Quinn is back at her favorite shop. She had to leave town for a writing workshop. She feels like she is ready to put everything that she learned in the week in practice, but even before she enters the coffee shop she sees the brunette in her table. Quinn deflates. That wasn't what she was expecting for her day. But maybe the girl will be reasonable and leave her table if she asks her. So she takes a big breath, goes into the store and order her coffee. After, she walks straight to the brunette. The girl's eyes widen a little bit when she notices Quinn right in front of her, but boldly says "Hi!".
"Hey. Look, I'm trying to be rude or anything but…" Quinn pauses for a second. Does she really need to get the girl out of her table? She shifts a little and can feel her pen digging at her side from inside the purse, so that should be a sign and continues. "… you're in my place."
The girl looks at her like she's a little crazy and maybe she is. But writing somewhere else isn't the same. She tells the girl so and is surprised to see her gathering her things – music sheets, she notices – and stands up.
"Oh, I understand now! I'm sorry for taking up your table. I know how hard it is to find inspiration, so I'll go to another table."
Quinn doesn't know how to thank her. She feels like if the roles were reversed she would tell the girl to get lost. But before the brunette leaves, she extends her hand and touches gently her arm. "Wait! Uh, thank you, uh…"
"Rachel. My name is Rachel."
"Well, I'm Quinn. Thank you once again."
Rachel smiles to her and Quinn smiles back.
The next day, when she gets there Rachel is already at the coffee shop, but sitting in a different table. Quinn gives her a little smile and goes to her regular table. She touches a book inside her purse, but finds herself inspired to write instead. So she picks up the notebook and pen and writes. About an hour later, a shadow is cast over her and she looks up. It's Rachel.
"Hi." Rachel looks uncharacteristically nervous, but goes on. "I sing. I mean, I'm a singer. Some friends and I will sing at the bar just down the street and maybe, if you're free, you'd like to come?"
Without thinking about it, Quinn answers. "Sure! I'll be there. What time?"
And after they agree on the time, Rachel leaves and Quinn smiles while she watches her leaving.
Quinn goes to see Rachel singing and is amazed by her talent. She tells that to the girl and feels oddly proud when Rachel blushes.
They make a habit to at least say hello to each other every day at the coffee shop. One day Quinn invites Rachel to sit down with her and Rachel is there before the question is even finished.
Quinn is there, at the center front seat at Rachel's debut on Broadway and Rachel is the first one to get a signed copy of Quinn's first book. When Rachel reads what Quinn wrote before she signed her name, she tears up a little.
"I never thought I would meet someone so special at a coffee shop. I'll thank God every day for making you take my favorite table. But that wasn't the only thing you took. Rachel, you have my heart and if I'm lucky enough, I'll have yours. Will you marry me? Quinn Fabray"
Between falling tears and a few kisses, she says "Yes!" to Quinn, in front of every single person inside the bookstore.