*0*0*
Amongst the Stacks
*0*0*
Quinn was drowning in books.
They were sprawled across the six-person table, covering every inch, each opened at the relevant pages, and there was an overwhelming number of words in front of her. She should have finished this essay last weekend, but instead she had gone out and thoroughly gotten trashed. She wished she hadn't, because now she was spending that Thursday night losing her mind and missing an epic party. She didn't have classes tomorrow, and she wanted to make the most of that fact, but this essay demanded her attention.
Sighing loudly, Quinn ran her hand through her hair and threw her pen down onto her notepad. The notes she had written in class weren't worth anything, and she had no clue what she was going to do.
Yale had seemed like such a good idea, but being at Yale wasn't enough. Quinn had to succeed at Yale. She had to be one of the best of the best at Yale, or so her family thought, and those expectations were a nightmare to live up to. Why couldn't she have just applied to party colleges instead? Why did she have to aim so high?
None of this felt worth it.
Finally, she was out from under the thumb of her strict parents, and she felt like she could breathe. This, though, having to meet their perfect expectations, was stealing the breath from her lungs and chipping away pieces of her soul.
For once, she wished she could hand in a sub-par assignment and not worry about the repercussions. She wished she could pack up her stuff, go to that party, get thoroughly wrecked, and wake up tomorrow and wing the whole thing.
She couldn't, though, as every cell in her body was screaming at the very thought. As much as she wished she could, she knew she couldn't, and after admitting that, Quinn picked up her pen grudgingly and got back to work.
What couldn't have been ten minutes later, another flustered student wandered into Quinn's part of the library, and quickly deposited their things on the desk opposite. With a flash of blonde hair, the girl vanished behind the stacks, and Quinn went back to work.
She was trying hard to focus, trying hard to stay motivated, and trying hard not to glance up the row of books next to her to stare at the new arrival. Out the corner of her eye, Quinn could see her pulling out multiple books, and carrying the stack precariously in her other arm. It was gaining height, and Quinn was sure the girl couldn't carry much more given the combined weight of the books, but yet she kept picking up more.
Pen down, eyes on the blonde, Quinn pursed her lips and thought about getting up to help. Anything, really, to get her away from her essay.
It was unnecessary, however, as the blonde seemed satisfied with her selections and bounced back to her table, in an exceedingly graceful manner. Quinn knew, if she was carrying that many books and had attempted to move like that, they would have fallen everywhere.
Settling back in at her table, Quinn willed herself to focus on her work once more, and tried hard to continue writing. A few words there, a scribble here, and her eyes had somehow slunk back up to the blonde across from her. The steady ticking of the clock tallied how long Quinn sat staring, and after five minutes, she knew she had to get up and go for a walk to clear her head.
She was meant to be working, she was not meant to be checking out beautiful blondes and fantasizing about them. Work, she was meant to be working.
Sliding her chair out, Quinn stretched as she rose from the seat and headed off for a walk round the stacks. Given how deserted the place was, she didn't bother taking any of her things with her. It was seriously unlikely that someone would want to run off her with essay notes and all the crap in her bag.
The walk round the shelves was enough for Quinn to get her head back into working, and she knew that the sooner she sat down and worked solidly, the sooner she'd be out of there, and there still stood a good chance that she could head to that party that was on. She'd be late, but at least she might be able to go.
She really needed to just let loose again. She wanted to relax, to have fun, to meet people. She wanted to be the girl she was never allowed to be back at home, and that meant allowing herself to not feel guilty about checking out the blonde, or any other girl for that matter. So yes, she wanted to go, because she was sure she could find a girl to enjoy for the duration of the party, and that would take her mind off everything.
With this thought in the back of her mind, Quinn quickened her pace, ignored the blonde beauty and immediately set about working. The words were flowing, and inspiration seemed to have hit her, making this seem like a breeze. It was still a little challenging when trying to find sources to back up her points in the many books across the desk, but she was getting through it.
It was at that point that she felt something, and glancing up, hazel eyes met blue, and Quinn swallowed anxiously. The blonde across from her was staring, and yet she didn't seem ashamed in the least at having been caught. Instead, she licked her lips and sent a smile Quinn's way, making her heart thump wildly in her chest.
Slamming her book shut, Quinn fumbled to gather up her things. She needed to get out of there, to hell with finishing the essay. She'd hand it in late. Whatever. She just needed to get away for that girl.
Kissing girls under the haze of alcohol was one thing, actively flirting back with one when sober was completely different. It was just one thing Quinn wasn't ready to do. She needed the liquid courage, and this blonde, whoever she was, was not a good idea.
Leaving nearly all the textbooks on the table, Quinn hightailed it out of the library and went back to her dorm room. A quick change and she left again, on her way to the party. She wanted to put her freak out behind her as fast as possible. Anything to forget the actual possibility of something becoming real.
Fantasizing was definitely appropriate, actuality was a no go.
Unfortunately, with the blonde in mind, her brain was trying to make those fantasies real. So it was of no surprise to Quinn when she ended up frantically kissing a blonde girl with a nondescript face and one that could not compare to the girl she saw earlier. Whether Quinn wanted to admit it or not, she was intrigued by the stranger in the library, and it was clear she was going to be drunkenly kissing quite a few blondes to get her out her system.
*0*0*
The following day, after crashing at someone's dorm room, Quinn retired to her own room and sighed in relief upon seeing her roommate was out. She really didn't want another disappointing look sent her way due to her partying, nor did she need her judgements. It was not her roommate's place to just assume that because Quinn spent her nights out meant that she spent them in people's beds. That was not case, not the case at all.
Dropping her heels by the bed, she booted up her laptop and checked the time. It was late in the afternoon, having overslept considerably thanks to the booze, and she was running late for her Skype date with Santana. The girl was already online, and Quinn knew she was probably going to get torn a new one for keeping her waiting, but then again, she did have something she could trade. If she kept Santana occupied with another topic, she might be able to miss the tongue lashing she would be getting.
Without missing a beat, Quinn fired off her first question when the call connected and Santana's face filled the screen. She was wearing a tank top, curled up on her chair with her knees against her chest. Quinn knew from past Skype dates that Santana was wearing sleep shorts, having ditched her clothes the second she got in her dorm room. God only knows how her roommate managed to survive living with her.
"How do you know if a girl is interested in you?" Quinn asked, taking a seat on her bed and placing the laptop on her lap.
"What? Don't I get a 'hi' or something?" Santana spat, frowning in annoyance. Quinn rolled her eyes and greeted her properly before asking again.
"So, how do you know?"
"Seriously, Q? If you have to ask the question, she's probably interested in you." Already, Santana sounded bored.
"She might not be, she might have just been admiring my clothes or something else and that's why she was staring." It felt like a possible reason, sort of, but Quinn was hoping she was just reading too much into those bottomless blues and that saucy lick of the blonde's lips. Maybe she had imagined the whole thing yesterday.
"With the way you dress, no." That was such a cheap shot.
"Come on, I'm being serious," Quinn said, crossing her arms over her chest.
"So am I!" Santana cried, sitting up straight in her chair, her knees disappearing from view. "Look, if you think she's interested in you, she might just be. What does it matter, though? Are you going to do anything about it?"
"I wouldn't even know what to do." Normally the alcohol gave her confidence, allowed her to give them a look, and the girls would approach her. She had never faced a situation like this when sober, as she fought hard to keep those feelings at bay when she wasn't drinking. It was a horrible coping technique, but it worked, so she didn't want to change it.
"Just do what you do to yourself-" Santana began, holding up her fingers as if she was about to explain the mechanics of masturbation and sex.
"Not like that, you asshole! I mean, how do you flirt or even let a girl know you're maybe interested in her, too?" This felt stupid, asking in the first place. Santana was not the one to ask. She was going to make it mortifying, and she would want details, details Quinn wasn't ready to give. She should have just kept her mouth shut.
"Have you been checking her out?" Santana asked, raising her eyebrow in question.
"Well, yeah."
"And she's still looking at you? She's not been repulsed by it?"
"No, she was…I think she was checking me out, too." Definitely, without a doubt, Quinn was sure.
"Well then, there's your answer. She knows you're interested. Do something about it."
"Like what?" It was a stupid question, because there were only so many answers, and Quinn knew all of them, but still. She felt the need to ask, to just see what Santana could come up with.
"Like ask her out," Santana said simply, shrugging as if everything was no big deal.
"On a date?" Holy crap, that was big. Was she ready for that?
"No, ask to escort her out the building for kicks. Of course on a fucking date." Santana shot Quinn a filthy glare and the blonde was embarrassed enough to blush under it. She should have known better than to fire out her every thought as they came to her.
"I've never been on a date with a girl before," she admitted, after a moment of silence. Her voice was quiet, anxious, and a little bit scared.
Despite the many girls she had kissed while enjoying the effects of liquid confidence, Quinn had never taken that plunge. She had always assumed she wasn't ready for that step yet. She couldn't handle the idea of dating a girl. There were so many repercussions to such an act, she didn't know how to think about the pros when there were so many cons.
Dating was foreign to her, something to be dreamt of, but never achieved. Now Santana was suggesting otherwise, and prodding her in the right direction if she wished to be out and open about her sexuality, but Quinn wasn't sure she was ready for that prod, yet.
"But you have been on a date so it's exactly the same. Just because your date has a vagina doesn't mean things are different. It just means the sex is fucking awesome," Santana explained, inspecting her nails for a moment before picking up a nail file.
"Let's not even go down that road," Quinn replied, shaking her head. The prospect of sex was still a scary one; her limited experience and conservative views about sex playing heavy on her mind.
"Why not? If you date her, you might just end up in bed with her."
"I don't think that'll happen."
"Q, you're not in Lima anymore, you can be yourself." Santana stopped filing her nails for a second to look at her properly, making Quinn squirm on the bed in discomfort.
"I know, it's just, old habits I guess."
"I get it, I do. But seriously, the minute you just accept yourself, ask a girl out, maybe kiss one in public, you'll see that the whole world isn't as judgemental as Lima, Ohio." Santana had a point, but it was still a fucking scary situation to be in.
"Thanks."
"Welcome. So, you going to ask this girl out?" Seeing Santana go back to filing her nails was a relief, and Quinn shrugged.
"I'm not sure, maybe?"
"Just do it. There are so many perks."
"Like what?" She could think of many perks, but her con list was still winning, and maybe Santana would have a few good pros she'd missed already.
"Santana!" a voice suddenly called, interrupting them, and making Santana frown over her shoulder.
"Hold on, Q." Nodding, Quinn watched Santana spin in her chair and look out of screen. "What is it?" she called, a frown still in place.
"Can I use your body wash?" the voice asked, sounding muffled. It was at that point Quinn picked up the sound of the shower running in the background, and her mouth fell open in shock. No way had Santana had a girl there that entire time. Just, no way.
"Not right now. Give me five minutes?" Santana yelled, turning back to the laptop screen.
"Okay, hurry up though!" Smiling to herself, Santana pointed towards her bathroom door.
"Yeah, that right there, that's a perk. That's one fucking epic perk," Santana said, smirking.
"There's been a girl in your shower this whole time?" She really couldn't help herself and had to ask.
"Yeah, relax, it's no big deal. Why do you think I'm wearing so little?"
"That's not exactly a new thing, you're always dressed like that."
"Uh huh, because there's always been a hot girl in my shower."
"Oh God, seriously?" How long had this been happening? What had Quinn been interrupting? Was that why Santana never answered before their allotted time? Jesus, her best friend had been having sex while she was sitting waiting on her to answer the damn Skype call. What the fuck?
"Yep! So, here's my advice, ask the girl out, maybe just for coffee or something. Whatever, make a move. And if she says no, don't worry about it."
"You think she'll say no?" That thought had Quinn pushing Santana's very active love life out of her mind, and brought forth the fears she had been trying to supress.
"I don't have a clue, I've never met the girl. Just don't get disheartened if she does. Alright?" For a change, Santana actually looked concerned.
"I'll try."
"Good! Now I've got to go before she decides to wash herself. That would be fucking tragic. Hope it goes well with your girl. Speak to you later." Santana grinned one last time, rising from her chair as she did so, and Quinn only just had time to say a quick goodbye before the call ended and Santana went offline.
So while her best friend was off to have undoubtedly amazing shower sex, Quinn was stuck wondering whether she could work up the courage to ask the blonde beauty in the library out. Thinking honestly to herself, Quinn knew she'd rather be in Santana's position than wondering about the how to take the next step forward with the blonde in the library. She wanted the intimacy, the relationship, but she just didn't know how to go about it without freaking out. Maybe if she played her cards right, though, all that would change.
*0*0*
Unlike Quinn, it seemed the blonde she had seen that day was not a frequent visitor to the library, and as the week passed by and there were no more sightings of her, Quinn began to think she'd missed her chance.
Thankfully, another nightmare essay was due, and Quinn had decided to get out of her dorm room and huddle herself up in the library that Thursday night. The blonde was already there when she arrived, and with a smile on her lips, Quinn took a seat. Yes, she wanted to talk to her, but she did have to get some work done first.
As time passed swiftly, and her essay grew longer, Quinn started to glance up to see if the blonde looked to be leaving anytime soon. That would be a nightmare if she just walked out. Quinn would have to try and stop her, or hell, she wouldn't, she'd just let her go. Disaster, that whole situation screamed disaster.
Determined not to let that happen, Quinn finished off the sentence she was writing and began to steel herself up. She was going to do it, she was going to ask her out. She could do that. She could definitely do that. It wasn't hard. She only had to ask her if she wanted to go for a coffee sometime, and maybe introduce herself.
But did she introduce herself first, before asking? Or did she just ask and then introduce herself? When introducing herself, did she say she was Quinn, or Quinn Fabray? Did people still give their surnames when asking others out, or was that old fashioned? She didn't want to come across as old fashioned. Holy crap this was harder than she thought.
By that moment, Quinn had risen from her chair and had advanced towards the blonde. As the thoughts had picked up momentum and her worries had frozen her, she'd stopped short, drawing attention from the girl she was approaching.
"Can I help you?" the blonde asked, pulling Quinn from her anxieties and making her eyes widen in surprise.
Oh God, she's just been standing there, having a mental freak out, three feet from the table. The blonde was looking at her, her eyebrows raised in question, and a smile playing on her lips.
"Oh…no. Sorry to have bothered you." Ducking her head, Quinn turned and went right back to her table, blushing wildly.
That was awful. She'd just made a complete fool of herself. What the fuck was that? Why had she panicked? Why had she freaked? What had she been thinking?
Overcome with embarrassment, Quinn rustled together her things and darted towards the door. She couldn't face the blonde at that moment. It was too much. She'd looked like an idiot, a complete and utter idiot.
How was she to ever recover from a situation like that?
There was no return. She'd messed up. She should have known better than to try in the first place. She wasn't ready. She couldn't do it. It had been a horrible idea, and she should just stick to kissing girls in a drunken haze and supressing all other feelings for them when sober.
*0*0*
Arriving back to the dorm early, Quinn signed on and abandoned her notes in a drawer. She signed onto Skype in preparation for her call with Santana later, but didn't have to wait long. As she paced and panicked about being out, about asking a girl out, the familiar ringing of her Skype call echoed round the room.
"How did it go?" Santana asked as soon as the call connected, putting her nail file down and taking a seat at the desk. She, like Quinn, had assumed the blonde would be at the library that evening, and no doubt thought Quinn appearing online early meant good news. As if.
"It didn't. I messed up," Quinn sighed, shaking her head back and forth.
"How did you mess up?" Santana's eyebrow was cocked in question, waiting for her reply, and Quinn shook her head faster, trying to force all the thoughts from it as she relived her disastrous attempt.
"I freaked out! I don't know how to do this, San! I'm not like you, I don't ooze sex out of every pore, I can't get a girl like that!" She was frantic, the embarrassment, the fear, all of it taking over her every thought.
"Whoa, calm down for a minute, okay?" Santana's voice was soothing, but she looked startled by this outburst, and immediately gave Quinn her full attention.
"I can't do this. I'm not…I don't…"
"Q, take a breath for a second, please."
"Everything okay?" Rachel asked, and then her body was seen shifting about on the bed in the background.
Their previous Skype sessions meant that Quinn was finally introduced to the girl Santana was sleeping with. In fact, it was more than just sex, as they'd decided to start dating, and Rachel was now a common feature in Santana's room during their Skype chats.
"Yeah, babe, don't worry. I got it under control," Santana said, not taking her eyes off the screen.
"Okay." Quinn could see Rachel in the background shooting a friendly smile at the camera as she settled against the wall, a book in her hands.
"You with me now?" Santana asked, seeing Quinn come back down from her self-induced panic attack. A slight nod from the blonde had her diving back into conversation. "Good. So, I'm going to talk, you're going to listen and not interrupt, and then we'll reflect on what I've said before you open your mouth, gots me?" Nodding again, Quinn gave Santana her full attention. "Alright then. Now, I know I joke and fuck about, but I'm serious when I say that you have nothing to worry about. Seriously, Q, you're gorgeous, and you can be funny and you're a fucking genius. You're a catch, and this girl, she'd be lucky to date your ass. Hell, if I wasn't fucking miles away, I'd date your ass!"
"Hey!" Rachel cried, looking betrayed.
"Oh relax, you'd totally date her too, she's awesome," Santana called back, waving her hand dismissively. Rachel didn't seem to have an answer to that, and Santana smirked, knowing she'd won that round.
"Anyway, you can do this, you can ask her out, you can date a girl. I know things were rocky when you came out, but look how far you've come. You would never even admit to checking out a girl without organising a slushy attack on the same one later that day. You're doing good. This is just new territory, but it's not bad territory. It might be fucking scary, but honestly, once you meet a girl who is in to you, and trust me when I say there are plenty, it becomes awesome territory. Don't be scared, you're Quinn Fabray. You've totally got this. So, next time you see her, rather than ask her out, why not just ask her name. It's a nice start. Maybe I've been pushing you too fast too soon, and I'm sorry about that," Santana said seriously, shooting her an apologetic smile.
"Oh my God, did Santana Lopez just apologise?! Let's get that in writing!" Rachel yelled, grinning cheekily. It broke the tension, and Quinn laughed, while Santana shot a dirty look over her shoulder.
"Hey, Short-stack, keep it down back there!" Turning back to the screen, Santana gave it an exasperated look before muttering to Quinn. "She's fucking crazy."
"You love it!" Rachel called again, grinning wildly behind Santana, her head popping into sight once more.
"Pft, as if." But sharing a small smile with Quinn, Santana rolled her eyes in defeat. Yeah, so what? She did love it, but the other girl didn't need to know that.
Quinn was once again convinced that Rachel was a perfect match for her friend, and Quinn could tell Santana was smitten. That's what she wanted, an easy going relationship like that. She could see how happy it made them, and she wanted that happiness, too.
She just had to be willing to try again. Santana certainly didn't have an easy coming out, and at times, she had confessed to wanting to run right back in the closet, but it was clear from the sight before her that Santana never regretted being out and proud. She wasn't ashamed, she wasn't scared, and Quinn needed to start following in her footsteps.
In the end, it would make her happier, she was sure of it.
*0*0*
Taking time to build herself back up mentally after last Thursday, Quinn decided to avoid the library for a while and stayed in her dorm. She began to return to the life her parents thought she would have at Yale. One of late night studying, attending all her lectures, and not touching a drop of alcohol. She wasn't sure how long it was going to last, but she felt things were finally moving in the right direction.
Sitting down at her desk, grudgingly going to get to work, Quinn flicked through her notes. She had managed to get an extension on one of her essays and was given two weeks, thanks to a brilliant lie and her Fabray charm. However, given the last time she had worked on it had been the same night she saw the blonde that had taken over her thoughts, Quinn had been avoiding it like the plague.
She didn't have that luxury anymore. She had to get it done, and pulling out her notes from that night, she skimmed over her writing, and flipped through each page in search for where she had left off. Only, on the page of notes just before the one she had been writing on, she found something that made stop and pause.
There, right in the middle of the page, covering her writing, was a post-it note with the loopy-scrawl of someone else's handwriting. The blue ink stood out from Quinn's black, and she narrowed her eyes as she reread the words again and again.
You looked a little frazzled and in need of help. Give me a call and I'll be happy to give you a hand. -B
This was then followed by a smiley face and a phone number.
What the fuck?
Immediately opening Skype, Quinn called Santana and hoped the girl would answer. She was marked as online but away, which wasn't promising, but hopefully the girl would sense her plight and come help her.
"This better be fucking good, Fabray. I've got a half-naked girl back here and apparently ignoring your call will not get me laid, so talk," Santana demanded, throwing herself into the chair.
"Shit, I can call you later-"
"Nope, you'll talk now because you've already interrupted. I'm not having you do it a second time." Running a hand through her hair, Santana took what looked to be a calming breath before encouraging Quinn to begin.
Deciding not to push her luck any more than she might already have, she dove off into the details of her notepad and the post-it note. Santana seemed to find the girl's word choice hilarious, and promptly demanded that Quinn called it immediately, but that was not going to happen.
"I mean, how did she even manage to write this? And I've just assumed it's the girl from the library, what if it's not?" Her brain was running away with theories, thoughts, and making her dizzy with information.
"There is only one way to find out; call it." Santana smirked proudly, but Quinn rolled her eyes in predictability.
"No. I'm not calling it."
"Why not?" That brought a frown to Santana's face, wiping the smirk off in the process.
"Because, I don't know who wrote it! I can't just call them up." Plus, what would she say? Hello, I found your post-it note, now do you mind telling me who you are? No. That wasn't going to happen anytime soon.
"What makes you think it was the blonde?"
"I left my stuff on the table." Thinking back to that encounter, Quinn distinctly remembers leaving her things on the desk and taking a walk through the stacks to clear her head. She hadn't been gone long, and hell, she hadn't thought the blonde had even noticed her properly by then, but clearly that was not the case.
"So she would have had time to write it?" Santana asked, prodding for more information.
"Yeah."
"And it couldn't have been anyone else?"
"Not that I can think of, no. The only person who's been near my notes was my roommate, and it wasn't her."
"God no, it definitely wasn't her," Santana muttered, shaking her head. She was not a fan of Quinn's roommate, what with her judging looks and reproachful attitude.
"Yeah…so what do I do?"
"You won't call it?" Quinn shook her head and watched as Santana rolled her eyes. "Fine, then I have a plan, and you better stick to it." Giving Quinn a hard glare, Santana crossed her arms and then began explaining what she was to do. Her no-nonsense tone was enough to have Quinn going along with it, and promising to put it into action next time she spotted the blonde in the library.
*0*0*
Another Thursday night found Quinn amongst the stacks, huddled over a book and patiently waiting. She was once again missing a party, but right then, she really couldn't be bothered with attending. This was more important, in her eyes.
Santana was right, she had to take the plunge, she had to start moving forward. Yale was not like Lima, and this girl, whoever she was, looked promising. If the note was from her, which Quinn had little doubt about now the more she thought of it, then things certainly seemed to be going in the right direction. Even if the girl wasn't interested in her, they could still be friends, and Quinn could do with more friends on campus. Unlike McKinley, she wasn't winning any popularity contests here.
Eventually, the sound of feet coming closer to her part of the library had Quinn peeking up from her book, and then the blonde came round the bookshelves and into sight, just like she hoped she would.
Letting her get settled, Quinn returned to working, with the occasional glance up now and then. Santana's plan ran through her head, and she could deduce the likelihood of it working being high given the part of the library they were in and the books Quinn had seen her with.
Before she drove herself crazy, Quinn abandoned working and pulled out her phone. She wasn't going to call the number, but she was going to text it. She could only hope that it was the blonde's phone number and that her phone was on vibrate or something so she knew it went off. Without that, this would be a bust.
Changing her settings to vibrate, she then loaded up a text message and typed out what she had planned on saying. It was an in, an easy way to work out if it was the blonde or not, and to get the ball rolling for conversation.
Do you know anything about Literature in English before 1800?
With the hit of the send button, Quinn placed her phone down on the desk and waited. She didn't hear any ringtone or alert message sound, nor did she hear the buzzing of vibration, and her shoulders dropped in sadness, thinking she was wrong.
It was then that the blonde leant over and plucked her phone from her bag, and began typing away on it. She shot a look over her phone to Quinn, who was watching curiously. A second later, her phone vibrated, and she dropped her eyes down to read the message quickly.
Yes, do you need help?
Hearing the phone buzz on Quinn's desk had the blonde smiling widely, and she sprung up from her seat and advanced forward. Unlike Quinn who had frozen completely, this girl was full of confidence as she slid into the seat opposite Quinn and entwined her fingers on the desk.
"What's your name?" the blonde asked, grinning, and in turn making Quinn smile, too. How could she not? It was impossible. The good, happy energy was practically coming out of this girl in waves.
"Quinn," she answered, holding her hand out to shake. That lit up the blue eyes before her, and the girl clasped her hand and shook it softly.
"I'm Brittany."
"Hi." Quinn could feel the blush on her cheeks from her stare, and looked away for a moment, glancing round the bookshelves in the hope that she wasn't going bright red just from a simple handshake.
"Hi," Brittany replied, her smile unwavering. "So you got my note?"
"I did."
"I wasn't sure because you didn't call me, and last week, you kind of ran out of here before I had a chance to ask."
"Sorry about that. I hadn't seen the note by then and I just…I was…" Biting her lip, Quinn tried to fight the inner panic she was experiencing from thinking about that, but Brittany seemed to sense the shift and changed the subject.
"So Literature in English before the 1800s, you still needing help? " The sparkle in her eyes relaxed Quinn and she took a moment to think it over.
Santana's idea had been to strike up conversation that way, just in case Brittany's post-it note wasn't meant to be some kind of innuendo, and it seemed that was the case. But did Quinn actually need help? Fuck, Quinn needed a lot of help, professional help, but that was so not the kind Brittany was offering. However, why turn it down, especially when the blonde she'd thought about for weeks was offering?
No, Quinn would be a fool to turn Brittany away.
"Yes, please, if you don't mind helping me."
"Not at all. Let's see what you've got here." Brittany wasted no time in diving in to help her, and the longer Quinn sat there, the more she realised this girl was a genius; a very sweet, bubbly genius with eyes that captivated her completely and a smile that made her weak at the knees.
Thank God, she'd been sitting down for this conversation.
*0*0*
That night seemed to be a turning point for them, and the next time the two saw each other, they sat at the same table, shared smiles and occasionally began to contact each other outside their time in the library.
What started as a text once every few days turned into several texts a day until it was almost constant. They would talk all the time, they'd meet up for lunch, they'd hang out in the evenings, and they'd ignore the elephant in the room.
They were friends; they were just friends.
Quinn's attraction for Brittany hadn't died down, and in fact, it had grown as time passed. And while Brittany's initial note to her could be construed as being sexual in some way, the girl had not meant it like that, as far as Quinn was aware. She genuinely wanted to help Quinn study.
That's how they found themselves making arrangements to meet in the library after lectures, and Thursday night turned into their main study night together. It became their night, no distractions and interruptions, apart from each other.
Currently, they were taking a break, sitting across from each other, and Quinn had her head in her hand. Brittany was trying to explain something, a feeling of some type, but Quinn was lost. She was convinced the girl was too smart for her and at times she'd lose track of what she was talking about. This seemed like one of those times.
"I don't understand," she whined, an amused but defeated smile in place. Brittany laughed and shook her head.
"Of course you don't."
"Britt," Quinn whined again, dragging her eyes up to look at hers. She pouted and Brittany relented at that and sent her a soft smile.
"I'm sorry, that was mean. Give me your hand." Sliding her hand across the table, into Brittany's, Quinn sat up a little straighter to see what was about to happen. Brittany placed her hand on top of hers, her fingers over her open palm, and Quinn's touching Brittany's. "Do you feel that?" she whispered, her head coming forward, as if sharing a secret.
"What am I meant to be feeling?"
"That."
As hard as she might, all Quinn could feel was Brittany's skin against her own. It was soft to the touch, warm, and a larger part of Quinn wanted to take her hand in hers properly. Friends didn't do that, though, so she held off.
"I can't feel anything," she admitted, finally.
"Quinn!"
"Brittany!"
"You're not even trying," Brittany declared, taking hold of Quinn's hand properly and giving it a squeeze.
"I am! I am trying!"
"You're not!"
"What should I be feeling?"
"You really can't feel it?" she asked, a saddened look overcoming her features for a second, as though disheartened.
"No?" Quinn answered, looking nervous. She didn't want to make Brittany sad, or let her down, but she really couldn't feel anything. Pouting for a split second, Brittany then pursed her lips and hummed to herself. "What? I know that face, what are you thinking?"
"I wonder…" she mused, biting her bottom lip. That was distracting in itself, but Quinn was curious to see where this was going, what this was leading to.
"What? What do you wonder? You're scheming." It certainly seemed that way, and Brittany's mouth opened in shock at such an accusation.
"I'm not! I'm just…I'm curious."
"About what?" Quinn asked again, now biting her lip.
"I have another way you might be able to feel it."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." Brittany nodded and rolled her lips inwards before glancing away.
"So what is it?"
"You might not like it."
"Why wouldn't I like it?" Quinn asked, frowning slightly.
"You just might…freak out." Brittany shrugged, unsure, and Quinn's curiosity increased.
"Britt, I'm not going to freak out…I think. Please, let's just do it. I want to feel whatever it is you're feeling." And she did, she definitely wanted to feel this.
"Okay. You're sure?" Brittany checked.
"I'm sure."
"Okay, stay there." Doing as she was told, Quinn watched Brittany get up.
She walked round the table and sat down next to Quinn, turning in the chair to face her. Quinn raised her eyebrows in question and waited, watching as Brittany licked her lips and leant forward. One hand reached up and cupped the side of Quinn's face, and she took a shaky breath, wondering if this was going where she thought it was.
Moving closer, Brittany's breath ghosted over her lips, and she swallowed, licking her lips as she did so. Yeah, this was going exactly where she thought it was, and she was not complaining. Holy hell, she thought this would never come.
"Relax," Brittany whispered, smiling softly and she closed the distance.
Trying hard to do just that, Quinn let out a nervous chuckle and Brittany kissed her lips once, giving her time to react. That wasn't enough, however, and with the raise of her hand, she had it tangled in Brittany's hair and was pulling her back for more.
Her heartbeat was beating wildly in her chest, the thumping resonating in her ears, but all she could hear was the sound of Brittany's breathing, and the feel of her breath entering her lungs as Quinn inhaled.
Good lord, this girl; she was surrounding her, enveloping her in everything Brittany; her eyes piercing hers, her scent overcoming her senses, her soft touch caressing her cheek, her breath mixing with hers and giving her the air she needed to breathe. She was intoxicating.
That simple peck had not been enough. Although she had felt it, that connection between them, that intoxication, it was not nearly enough to satisfy Quinn.
Carefully, she closed the last of the distance between them, her lips capturing Brittany's bottom lip between them as she kissed her, slowly, cautiously. Brittany's lips were smooth, gliding over Quinn's with each kiss, and gradually were increasing in pressure and ferocity.
Her hand ran down her cheek and onto the side of her neck, angling Quinn just the right way before she opened her mouth slightly and allowed her tongue to slip out, running over Quinn's bottom lip teasingly. That brought a groan from the girl, and had her shifting uncomfortably in her chair. Brittany was driving her wild.
"Did you feel it?" Brittany asked, pulling back at the sound of the moan, breathless, and her pupils blown in lust.
"Yeah, I felt it. How could I not?" Quinn watched Brittany chuckle and nod, disentangling herself from her, and sit back.
"Do you want to maybe go for some dinner?" Brittany asked, once again stealing the air from Quinn's lungs with that smile of hers.
Nodding, Quinn smiled and together they packed up their things to head on out. She didn't know exactly what this meant, but that kiss. That kiss, that monumental moment for Quinn, was eye opening. There had been no shame, no fear, no anxiety. It had just been her lips against Brittany's, and it felt phenomenal. She had it every cell on fire, awakening them and making her head spin.
As they walked through the stacks, Quinn felt Brittany's hand on hers, and she took a hold of it, entwining their fingers together, before giving her a soft smile. Like the kiss, no shame, no fear, no anxiety, and that didn't change as they walked past other students and caught the eyes of others glancing at them.
For once, Quinn felt comfortable and completely unashamed, all thanks to Brittany.
*0*0*
Dinner that night had been the first of many, and a step in the right direction. With Brittany, there wasn't any shame in kissing her in public, though she rarely did that. But Quinn could, if she wanted to, or felt the need to. She wasn't afraid of the repercussions, she wasn't terrified of someone telling everyone else, she wasn't frightened it would all blow up in her face.
The happiness from that first night continued. It helped that Brittany was so laid back about it all. She didn't ask how Quinn felt. She didn't ask if she was gay, bisexual, pansexual or just curious. She didn't ask where this was going. It was all so easy. Instead, Brittany would smile and ask if she liked Thai food, or muse about whether or not the new Disney movie was worth seeing. They were always worth seeing, apparently.
None of that was an issue, and Quinn was surprised by how easy it was to forget the rest of the world while holding Brittany's hand or kissing her goodnight outside her dorm building. No one else entered their bubble, and the prejudice and hate she often worried about never pierced it once. It was perfect.
However, that perfection couldn't last forever. With each outing, which could only be classed as dates, Quinn grew restless in the freedom she had once enjoyed. They were having fun, they were having great fun going out, with the occasional kiss, and frequent hand holding, but Quinn wanted more. It wasn't about the sex, because she was sure if she asked, Brittany would take her back to her dorm room that instant, but more about where they stood with each other.
They were friends, more than friends, but they weren't girlfriends, and that's what Quinn wanted. She wanted Brittany to be her girlfriend. Yes, it was a label, which defeated the purpose of their stress-free, no labels scenario, but she couldn't help but wish for that commitment.
It played on her mind every moment she spent with Brittany, and she'd run through her thoughts on how Brittany might feel if she asked her. It could either ruin things or make them even better, but she wasn't sure how to go about it.
It just felt like they were stuck in this no-man's-land, not able to move forward, and desperate not to move back. If that's all Brittany wanted, then Quinn would accept her friendship and kiss a relationship goodbye. But, the thought of more was appealing to her.
It was fine to be in love with your girlfriend. It was not fine to be in love with your friend. And the more time Quinn spent wrapping her arms around Brittany's neck, kissing those lips goodnight, the more she realised she was slowly but surely falling for those mystical blue eyes and tender touches.
Even then, as the two of them spent their typical Thursday night hidden amongst the stacks, working, did those thoughts plague her mind. Quinn had practically given up working, knowing it was futile while Brittany chewed on her lip in thought and flicked her hair about over her shoulders when it fell in her way.
They had been working for hours, desperate to finish things off so they could spend the weekend hanging out without the thought of work looming over them. Brittany had just returned from putting some of her books back, to clear space on the table, while Quinn skim read through the book she was meant to be studying in a last ditch attempt to stay focused.
"Ugh, I put the wrong textbook back," Brittany groaned, rubbing her eyes after searching the table for it. Sighing, she dropped back in her chair and gave Quinn a sleepy smile. She looked beautiful, and Quinn wanted to tell her that, but wasn't sure how to even begin.
Instead, she put her bookmark in her page and placed her book to the side. Standing up, her joints cricking as she did so, she stretched and tried to wake her body up a bit.
"I'll get it," she said, needing the movement before her legs went to sleep.
"Are you sure?" Britt asked, looking exhausted but also thankful.
"Yeah, you just take a rest." Shooting her a smile, Quinn went on the search for the book.
When she got back to the desk, Brittany had gone. She'd left a post-it note stuck to her notes saying she just went to the bathroom, and would be back in a moment. Quinn took a seat again and then was struck by an idea, bringing a smile to her lips.
She had been looking for the perfect opportunity to ask, to bring this up, but hadn't found one; and right there and then seemed to be the exact situation she had been after. It had presented itself brilliantly, and Quinn grabbed the post-it notes and a pen before getting to work. This was simple, easy enough to recover from, and an ideal moment where it was just the two of them in the empty part of the library.
God only knows when she might get the confidence to do this again.
By the time Brittany had made her way back, Quinn was sitting with her arms folded on the desk and her chin leaning on them. Brittany winked at her with a smile, making the butterflies in her stomach intensify, before she sat down to get back to work.
"You just going to sit there and stare at me working?" she asked, a teasing tone to her voice.
"Yep," Quinn replied, licking her lips anxiously.
"Not going to read some more?"
"Nope."
Brittany laughed and shook her head, reaching for the textbook Quinn had fetched, and opened it up to the index to find the right page she was looking for; just like Quinn predicted she would do.
Since Brittany had started with the idea to write notes for the other to see, Quinn had used that idea and tacked a simple yellow post-it note smack bang in the centre of the index.
It simply read: Will you be my girlfriend?
Seeing those blue eyes widen for a second, and then a smile play on Britt's lips had Quinn's nerves going crazy. Looking up, Brittany chuckled and dropped her head into her hands, peeking through her fingertips at Quinn.
"Open your book," Brittany said, now running her fingertips over the post-it note stuck to the index of the textbook.
Quinn was frowning, wondering why she hadn't received an answer yet, but did as she was asked. Sitting up straighter, she reached over and picked up her book, flipping to the page where her bookmark was. Only with the page open, did she crack a smile, and laughed under her breath at the absurdity of it all. A simple post-it note stared back at her.
I really like you. We should date. Can I call you my girlfriend?
This was then followed by two boxes with a yes and a no next to them.
Grinning, Quinn grabbed the closest pen and ticked the yes box before spinning the book for Brittany to see. She laughed and nodded happily, biting her bottom lip.
"Yes, I will be your girlfriend," she said, answering Quinn's question, eyes shining with glee.
Giving her a thankful smile, Quinn let the moment just sink in for a second. There had been nothing stressful about that, and all her worrying for stupid. Of course, nothing would be stressful with Brittany, she was so calm, relaxed and understanding.
The fact that she had asked as well, and in a very similar fashion, had her heart soaring and the butterflies in her stomach fluttering wildly. This was a move she had wanted to make, too, and that had her laughing happily to herself.
Looking across the table, at her girlfriend, Quinn felt a sudden weight off her shoulders, and a content attitude wrap around her. It was only the beginning, and there were bound to be bumps in the road, but with this girl, her smile, those charming blue eyes, Quinn wasn't worried in the least.
*0*0*
That weekend found Quinn back in front of her laptop, sitting at her desk, listening to Santana talk about her girlfriend, Rachel, who also happened to be sitting in the room. Santana would moan and bitch, but Rachel didn't bat an eyelid. She sat on the bed, reading, unfazed by the whole thing, and it was pretty cute to see.
"So, how's your love life going? You asked her out yet?" Santana asked laying off Rachel for a second, as she filed her nails in disinterest.
"Be a bit more enthusiastic about it," Rachel chimed in, throwing some garment of clothing at the back of her girlfriend's head on screen.
Santana shot a filthy glare backwards when the item collided with her, and then turned back to the screen, a look of murder making even Quinn squirm.
Quinn had been playing her cards close to her chest, trying not to overwhelm herself, and had in fact kept most of what Brittany and her were up to quiet. Santana was her best friend, but Quinn didn't want to get ahead of herself and start second guessing everything, which she tended to do with Santana. Therefore, it only seemed reasonably to keep the titbit of information about now being in a relationship with Brittany to herself.
Santana was aware they had kissed, but that was it, and she had left the topic alone since then. She seemed convinced that Quinn was being a pussy and would never act on that kiss, but that certainly wasn't the case anymore, a thought that always made Quinn smile.
"Let me give you some advice, girls are a nightmare, avoid them-" Santana began to say, only to have Rachel laugh in the background.
"I'll remind you of that fact when I go for my shower!"
"See what I have to live with?" Santana whined, pointing over her shoulder. "Why would you want this? You're free. Stay that way, my friend. Stay single and free and…Wait- what's different?" she suddenly asked, her eyes scanning the screen.
Quinn chuckled and patiently waited for the penny to finally drop. They had been talking twenty minutes, and it was about time the girl clocked something new about this situation.
"Where the fuck are your clothes?" Santana finally asked, looking at what Quinn was wearing.
"She's naked?" Rachel piped up, and her face suddenly came into view next to Santana's.
"No she's not naked, you perv. But nice to see how interested you are," Santana growled, earning an eye roll.
"Well then, why are you asking where her clothes are? Hi, Quinn!" she said, greeting her properly.
"Hi, Rachel." Smiling to the girl, she watched out the corner of her eye as Santana crossed her arms and huffed.
"I'm asking because normally she's like a fucking nun, covered from head to toe. Except this week, look at her, so much skin, she's practically naked. So let me ask again, where the fuck are your clothes?" Opening her mouth to reply, Quinn was suddenly cut off.
"Quinn, can I use this shampoo or is this your special stuff? It smells really nice!" Brittany called, the bathroom door ajar, allowing her to hear.
Seeing the shocked faces staring back at her, Quinn blushed and licked her lips. Santana looked like she'd just met death himself, overwhelmed and unbelieving, while Rachel looked surprised and was smiling. Turing to the bathroom door, Quinn quickly called back before Brittany decided to get out and ask her in person.
"Yeah, you can use it!"
"Thank you!" Brittany replied, happiness in her voice, making Quinn smile. Looking back, she was met with the exact same faces, before Santana finally snapped out of it.
"Holy crap, there is a girl in your shower. You're half naked and there is a girl in your shower," Santana said, looking like a fish out of water.
"Nicely done, Quinn. I do expect introductions at some point," Rachel added, grinning.
"Short-stack, shush," Santana moaned, waving her girlfriend away. "You really have a girl in your shower?" This piece of information seemed difficult for Santana to understand.
"Yeah."
"Fucking hell, I couldn't be prouder. I taught you well. I taught you so well. Is she hot? She better be hot." Laughing, Quinn nodded.
"She's gorgeous."
"You did good. Seriously, I'm proud of you. The Quinn Fabray I used to know would have bathed in holy water at the thought of this, and yet you're not even freaking out."
No, she wasn't.
"What's there to freak out about? She makes me happy, incredibly happy." There was no simpler truth than that.
"About damn time," Santana muttered, grinning brightly.
"You can say that again."
Smiling back at her best friend, Quinn took a deep breath and just let the happiness seep throughout her body, warming her from the inside out. After everything she'd faced and endured, meeting a girl who saw nothing but goodness in the world, who seemed invincible, made those hardships worth it. Quinn wouldn't have been the person she was today without them, and that would have meant never meeting Brittany. A true travesty, if that had never happened.
She finally had the intimacy, the relationship, the commitment she had been looking for, and she had it all with a blonde beauty who had bewitched her from the get go. Where her doubts once clouded her mind, sitting there, laughing with her best friend, with her girlfriend in the next room, Quinn knew coming to Yale had been the second best decision she'd ever made.
The first was ditching the parties for the library, and finding a hidden gem amongst the stacks.
*0*0*