A/N: The title is due to the fact that I wrote a story called After Hours involving Kurt and Santana. Since both took place after hours in McKinley High School, I figured maybe I'd make a series. So if anyone wants to see another pairing with a similar situation, let me know! Also, feel free to read my Kurtana version of After Hours. It was the original after all. ^.^ Please review! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. This story is unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Spoilers: Exist. I don't know the exact episodes, though. Sorry.

Rating: T for...uh. There may be a bad word in here somewhere. If not, I still think it could be T. *Shrug*

Note: Please check out my new forum, The Glee Prompt Forum, which you can find on my profile. Currently there is one challenge up. Check it out! You might have fun!

"Quinn?"

I look up from my spot on the library floor to see one of the most beautiful girls I've ever laid eyes on. Cheesy, I know, but so true. She's wearing a purple and dark green colored plaid skirt and a tight white t-shirt that hugs her figure, showing off her curves. At the collar of her shirt a large, yellow ribbon is planted, tied neatly. Bright yellow tights adorn her petite legs, and her feet are covered with purple ballet flats. I'll admit, I secretly love her outfits; I think they're some of the most adorable combinations I've ever seen.

"Um," I stammer, my throat suddenly going dry. I start fidgeting and can feel a bead of sweat dripping down my neck. Has it always been this hot in the library? "Yes, Rachel. What's up?" My attempts to keep a sort of coolness about me are quickly dashed when I notice the brunette in front of me cocking her head to the side.

"Forgive me, Quinn, but are you…nervous?" She doesn't say it with any sarcasm or meanness; she's asking me a completely honest question.

"Uh…w-why would I be nervous?" I try my best to plaster on my HBIC face, but I'm sure it's weak. By the way she's smirking at me, I bet it looks like a constipated koala bear or something, not the usual bitchy, snarky, 'move out of the way or I'll send a jock to slushy you' Quinn Fabray.

Rachel shrugs in response, her slender shoulders rising and falling with ease. "I don't know. You just seem a bit off is all. Also, and please forgive me if I'm prying for too much information here, but why are here so late?"

I chuckle inside my mind. I love the cuteness of her run-on sentences. The way she adds way too many words to what could be such a simple sentence is one of probably five hundred things I love about her. Knowing I can't laugh aloud however, I quickly shove the erupting giggle away and focus on Rachel's questioning glare.

"I needed to clear my head."

"And so you chose the library?" She sounds shocked. I suppose I don't blame her. The library isn't one of the top places you'd find Quinn Fabray. That would be the football field, Cheerios locker room and, more recently than ever, the choir room. The library, though? A definite no. It's not that I don't study or read, I just have better things to do than study and read at school. I have a reputation to keep up after all, and so all my free time in school is spent slushying losers, geeks, and freaks, and making fun of…Rachel. God, really hate that I do that. I don't even know what started the endless bullying. Er, strike that. I guess I do. I just choose to ignore the sirens and Rachel-summoning thoughts that constantly run through my mind every second of every minute of every hour of every day.

I shrug, not something I would normally do in front of Rachel Berry. But today, for some odd reason, I'm feeling…defeated. There's no other way to put it. I've avoided my feelings for long enough; I guess I'm finally willing to face the music. A million and one thoughts buzz through my head like bees trying to find the best pollen. It would certainly clarify a lot to Rachel if I explained to her what's been going on for the past few years while I slushied her nonstop, drew pornographic pictures of her on the bathroom stall walls, called her every inappropriate name on the planet, and countless other things. But part of me can't do it. I know she deserves an explanation for my actions, but it would just mess everything up. Who's to say she wouldn't go blab to the entire school about my little secret? She certainly has a right to; the way I've treated her has warranted her that much. Knowing Rachel, though, I'm almost positive she wouldn't tell everyone. She's just not that kind of person. Looking past her sometimes (but cute) annoying attitude and goals to strive for anything and everything, Rachel has one of the biggest hearts I know. She sang that duet with Kurt when she knew he was lonely; she never, not once, tried to get back at me or Santana for being absolute bitches to her—except when she stole Finn from me, but that hardly counts because I did the same to her—and she comforted me when I needed a friend back when I was pregnant with Beth.

Yep. It's inevitable. I owe her big time.

"Listen, Rachel," I start, my nerves getting the better of me as I look anywhere but her face. Evidently, though, she doesn't hear me, rather she's too consumed with her own, endless thoughts.

"…not that I don't think you're not smart, Quinn. No. I would never imply such a thing. I'm just, well, frankly I'm surprised. I've never seen you in here once, in all three years of high school, and I don't think I've ever seen you read a book that wasn't mandatory for class. Also, I—"

"Rachel. Rachel!" Finally getting her attention, she looks down at me, her brown eyes dilating. I stare at her confused, but then realize. She's probably afraid I'm going to press a button that will cause angry jocks, bitchy cheerleaders, and cherry red slushies to fall from the ceiling directly to her.

"Sorry. I just needed to get your attention. You tend to go on sometimes." I try my best to say it in a lighter manner than before. The last thing I want to do right now is to scare her off. I may not like it, but I know I have to have this conversation with her today. It was a long time coming.

"It's fine," she says. I see her visibly relax. Good. I must have come off as less of a threat. "I suppose you're right. I do tend to drawl on and on sometimes. Then again, one of my earliest voice coaches told me that talking is good for the singing voice; it keeps you warmed up at all times, to some extent, so whenever there in an emergency need for performance, you're pretty much ready!"

I give her a look and without even saying anything, she understands.

"Right…sorry. I guess that's what everyone means when I say I talk to much, hm?" I laugh, loving her adorable pout.

"Yeah, Rachel. I'm afraid to say it, but that's exactly it. Also, you may want to try and shorten up your sentences a bit. Maybe Brittany will even understand you one day if you do," I joke lightly.

She smiles but immediately her expression turns confused.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I ask.

"Well it's just…I don't think I've ever heard you call me 'Rachel.'"

"That's your name, isn't it?"

"Yes, but…I mean to say, it's usually RuPaul or Manhands or something of the like." I got to respond, knowing I need to apologize, but she cuts me off. "It's okay though. I like hearing my name come from you." She grins, and I melt at the warmth a simple smile from her can expel.

"About that Rachel, all the name calling I mean…I kind of have to talk to you about something, and that's kind of related to it. It's actually pretty perfect timing that you found me…I-I've been meaning to talk to you for a while now but never got around to it so it's good you're here. I mean, it's convenient and everything. Not that I wouldn't have tried to find you; I would have, really. I just—"

"Whoa. Calm down there, Quinn. Now who's doing all the talking?" I close my mouth shut and my face turns a slight shade of red in embarrassment. "It's okay, though," she adds, "I like it when you get flustered. I-It's cute."

My body continues to melt away, the skin peeling away layer by layer. Really, is it hot or is just me? And—wait a minute. Did she just used me and cute in the same thought? Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I do have a chance with her. Hah. Yeah right, Quinn. Think logically for a minute, why don't you. All you two have ever done in the long run is fight each other for the same guy over and over again. You, well you were only doing it because of one) denial and two) reputation. But Rachel? There's no way she would have gone to all that trouble to hide her true self. If there's one thing she's all for, it's being true to yourself. Because of that, her feelings Finn are definitely real and, as such, I have virtually no chance with her. Great. Why couldn't I have figured all that out BEFORE I went and told her I have to talk to her? Now I have to either make something up or tell her the truth. Ugh.

"So what do you want to talk about?" Her soft voice interrupts my thoughts and I whip my head skywards. Instead of meeting air though, I notice her face is mere inches from mine. She must have squatted down next to me when my mind was elsewhere. Perfect. Now I have to not only profess my love for her, but I have to do it while she's sitting across from me looking like the cutest girl that's ever walked McKinley High's halls.

"I, er, uh." Well this is going to be harder than I thought it'd be.

"Quinn," Rachel whispers, stifling giggles, "what in the world has gotten into you? You do know you're stammering in front of Rachel Berry, don't you? If the school finds out, you'll skyrocket from the top to the very bottom."

I freeze. She's right. She's totally, absolutely, positively one hundred percent correct. "Yeah, I know Manha—," I begin to snap. She cringes and I start again, softer this time. "Sorry. I mean, um, I know…Rachel. Which is why you can't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you. Really. Please don't. I won't blame you if you do, you have every right to want to get revenge on me, and what other way to do so than to use this against me."

"Hold on a second. Can we get caught up? You're already talking about revenge while I have no clue what you're even talking about. Care to share?"

I sigh, rubbing my temples. This is it. I'm about to bare my whole soul to Rachel Berry. I certainly never thought I'd ever be in this position before. If someone told me five years ago that I was fat and ugly and self-loathing because I was struggling with who I am, I would have never believed them. If someone also told me that, after settling in at McKinley, I became the biggest bitch to ever roam the halls because of Rachel? Well, no. I would not have believe any of those things. Not one.

"Rachel…I-I don't really know how to tell you this."

"Then start at the beginning. Ease yourself in. I'm not going to judge you, I hope you know that," she says pointedly, in all seriousness.

"Okay. You asked for it," I mumble under my breath. "I-I, um. I think I may be, uh. Here goes nothing. I'm gay."

I squeeze me eyes shut, waiting for the laughs, waiting for the burst out of the library to find anyone and everyone, waiting for her to whip out her phone and start texting every contact she has that Quinn Fabray, THE Quinn Fabray, just dropped the gay bomb on her. I even wait for what I think could be a strong, rare, but strong, punch. Like I said, I wouldn't blame her.

She opens her mouth. This is it.

"So?"

"I—" Wait. What was that you just said, Rachel?

"I said, 'so'?" Oops. Didn't realize I said that aloud.

"Um. You're not…I mean. What?"

Rachel chuckles, clearly amused at the fact that she made Quinn Fabray speechless. "Quinn, you do know you're talking to the daughter of two gay men, right?"

"I…yes. Yes I do realize that. But still…"

"I'll admit, I can't say I'm not surprised. No, that would be a lie. But still, I suppose I always had some sort of hunch. The way you are with Finn…it's always seemed to a bit too over-confident, if you know what I mean."

I digest this new information and then continue. "Are you mad?"

Rachel blinks rapidly, confusion written in her eyes. "Why would I be mad?"

"Because all I ever did was fight you for Finn. Face it, Rachel. We've wanted the same guy for years and I went to extremes to have him. And now you're finding out it was for no reason at all? You really aren't the least bit mad?"

The brunette in front of me stops for a moment, considering this newfound idea. Then, after what seems like forever, she answers. "No. I'm not mad. I assume the reason you wanted him so badly was because you were trying to deny yourself of who you are?"

Wow. Can she read my mind?

"Yeah…that's pretty much it. I also needed a football stud to keep up my reputation, you know? Without him…well, it wouldn't have been good. And you're right, too. I was definitely trying to ignore my feelings or whatever. I just…I couldn't be gay—I can't be gay. My mom is going to flip out when and if I ever tell her. She already had to deal with the pregnancy, how would she react when she finds out her youngest daughter likes girls?" I shudder at the thought, not wanting to think about what would happen at all.

"Isn't your mother more accepting of you now, Quinn? She kicked your father out, if I remember correctly. Hasn't she tried to be more supporting?"

I hesitate. This is true. But then again… "Yeah. That's true. But she's just recovering from having to help her then sixteen year old daughter go through labor. Throwing something as big as this onto the plate is just going to stress her out big time."

"Quinn. If she kicked your father out and allowed for you to move back in, she clearly loves you. Maybe she has had some issues in the past, but there's no way she'll kick you back out."

I sigh, some of the pent-up tension in my body releasing itself. This girl sure does know how to calm another down. I swear, her words are the most encouraging I've heard in a while now.

We sit in quiet for a few minutes, each of us drinking up the silence around us. It really is peaceful in school during the evening. No one's here; the lights are dim, the hallways are dark, there aren't any teachers yelling at students. It's definitely one of the calmest places I have in my life. I should remember to come here to think more often. Especially if Rachel is here this late. Yep. That's a definite motive. Speaking of Rachel…

"Rachel. Why are you here so late?"

She blushes, clearly trying to hide something.

"Hey. I just told you stuff that I've never told anyone. I think you can tell me one measly thing." I say it lightly so she knows I'm just joking around, but now that she's looking away red-faced, I really want to know.

"It's kind of embarrassing," she says. I give her a look that tells her to continues, that shows her I won't judge her, even though the old-yet-not-so-old-straight Quinn would have jumped at the thought of humiliating her 'enemy' more than before, if possible.

"Well as you know, Miss Holiday's currently here and acting as the health and wellness teacher and, uh, sex education teacher again." I nod. Mr. Schue had invited her for a second time to teach us all about sex. He thinks he's being subtle, sneaking the lessons in with Glee club, but he's so not.

"Yeah. What about her?"

"Well…um." Rachel's face turns the brightest red I've ever seen it and it's hard for me to not laugh. Knowing I shouldn't though, I suppress all the chuckles in my throat and force myself to listen to her.

"I've been meaning to take the next step with Finn…if you know what I mean. I have no idea what to do and I can't exactly ask my fathers, just because one, it's weird, and two, it's a bit different. So I asked Miss Holiday if she could help me with some of the…details." She hangs her head and looks down at her feet, inspecting a slight fray in her yellow tights.

"Hey," I say, pulling her head up to look at me. "I think that's cute."

"You do?" She says, obviously shocked.

I shrug. "Yeah. I mean, you're going to all that trouble just to be with Finn." She smiles, as if she wanted my approval or something. "He's a lucky guy. Any guy that gets you will never realize how lucky he is," I add, whispering it more to myself than to her. Thankfully she doesn't hear me, or at least I don't think she does. Leaning in closer to me, I feel a tingle in my ear.

"You know what? Any girl who gets to have you will never realize how lucky she is, even if she slips on a ring and marries you."

What the…? Am I deaf? Or am I hearing things? Rachel Berry did NOT just produce that sentence in one of the most sexiest, flirtiest voices ever heard to man. Add the fact that she said it in an ear-tickling whisper, and you've got yourself a crazy, hot and bothered Quinn. In other words, the mess you see in front of you. Me.

"Um." It's all I can think of to say. My mind is a puddle of melted mush, and I'm not thinking clearly by any means. That said, the only thing I can think of to do is the following: I kiss her. I lean in to those luscious lips I've only ever dreamt of tasting and kiss her like mad. It's the most exhilarating feeling I've ever experienced. It makes me wonder: Why did I ever even try dating guys? If I had known this was what being with a girl was like, I wouldn't have even tried to hide my true self by dating them.

Feeling Rachel move, I assume she's reciprocating the kiss and I begin to scoot in closer. Before I can, though, she's pulling away, an aghast look donned by that pretty face of hers.

"Quinn…what…why did you do that?"

I can say nothing. I open my mouth to talk, but nothing comes out. Finally, after a few tries at tangible sentences and coherent words, I form a sentence. "I just thought…I mean. You seemed to like it." It's weak and I know it. It's not much of a rebuttal either, but it's the best my squishy mind can muster at the moment. Before she can say another word, I breathe out what's been on my mind for our whole conversation and the past entirety of our high school career.

"I love you, Rachel."

Note: I obviously plan on making this at least two-shot-I can't leave you all hanging!-but I may make it more. If you'd want it to be either a three-shot or multi-chapter, let me know. Okay. Please review and thanks for reading!