Summary: Rachel tells Quinn her family's gardener is attractive, unaware that it was Quinn herself. Awkwardness ensues. Faberry, implied Brittana.

Spoilers: None. This story is set after season 2 (the summer before senior year). I started this while I was writing Wonderfalls On Glee, and finally found the time to finish it. I hope you enjoy! (As you can see, I've had a little fun with them!)

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Rachel liked to jog in the late summer afternoons, when the shadows were lengthening and the air was beginning to cool. It was pleasant and beneficial exercise, but she concluded that it would be even better if she had a companion to talk to and push her to strive harder. But whom could she ask? Kurt felt that running was undignified (not to mention it messed up his hair). Mercedes was horrified at the very thought of strenuous exercise. Finn just wasn't an option. Noah's constant leering could be an issue (what if he fell and hurt himself?). Tina was naturally at Asian summer camp. Quinn... Quinn. Rachel was surprised at how much the mere thought of the blonde brightened her mood.

Rachel hoped that she wouldn't regret her plan to ask Quinn to be her to be her jogging partner for the summer. She was a little apprehensive, but resolved. After all, Quinn's behavior did sometimes seem to indicate that they had a chance of being friends. Rachel could only hope this was one of those times.

As she approached Quinn's house, Rachel idly wondered if she was more likely to be insulted or murdered (or both if she'd caught Quinn on a really bad day) but, being who she was, she was able to hope.

Quinn answered the door with an air of indifference that failed to conceal her curiosity. "Rachel. What's up? Petitioning early for all the Glee solos for next year?"

"Hello, Quinn. My appearance at your door in fact has no connection with Glee. I was simply wondering if you might wish to accompany me for my daily exercise." She indicated her tiny black shorts and fitted tank top.

Quinn's eyes automatically followed Rachel's gesture down her body, but moments later a slightly flushed Quinn met Rachel's eyes. "Oh. I - what did you have in mind? I mean like yoga or pilates, or-"

"Actually, I was thinking of jogging."

Quinn hesitated, but then shook her head decisively. "No way - you'll talk me to death before we go a mile."

Rachel took her use of future tense as an opening. "I assure you I wouldn't. For one thing, it's scientifically impossible to talk a person to death, although I concede that in certain circumstances one could potentially talk long enou-"

Quinn raised a single brow. "Really not helping your point."

"Oh." Rachel, defeated, realised that her verbosity had - once again - gone against her. "I'm sorry for bothering you. I'll just see you at school next ye-"

As Rachel started to turn away, Quinn impulsively stepped forward, one hand reaching to touch Rachel's arm lightly. "No, wait. Against my better judgement, I'll come. I really need to stop listening to music all the time."

"Really? You'll come with me?" Rachel glanced down fleetingly at Quinn's hand. "Thank you for giv-"

Quinn looked down and dropped Rachel's arm like it was on fire. "Just please, no talking."

Rachel's smile faded at the rebuff and she just nodded.

Their first jogging excursion went rather well: neither of them attempted murder, and they matched pace surprisingly well, given their height difference. Quinn listened to her music the whole way; Rachel forbore to point out the obvious, but couldn't help wondering why Quinn had actually agreed to come.

As they parted ways, Rachel said, "Thank you for accompanying me, Quinn. Would you possibly consider running with me again tomorrow?"

Quinn shrugged, as though indicating that she had nothing better to do, but said, "I wouldn't be opposed."

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Rachel took to going for a daily run between her summer dance classes and checking if Quinn was free to come. More often than not, she would.

The two girls gradually went from each listening to their own music, to comparing musical taste (which had more overlap than either expected), to abandoning the music entirely and just talking about anything as they jogged.

It was Thursday of the seventh week, and Rachel's morning jazz dance class had ended early, after the instructor had inconsiderately cut the class short to attend a party. As a result, Rachel found herself running along the street across the road from Quinn's house (the tree cover provided better shade) looking to see if anyone was home.

Rachel noticed a figure on the front lawn using a push mower. She stopped, curious, pretending to catch her breath. She took in jeans, boots, shirt, and a glimpse of neck and jaw, before her eyes caught on the baseball cap half-controlling longish blonde hair. There was something unexpectedly alluring in the line of the jaw, the wild fall of hair; the Fabray's gardener was decidedly attractive. Her eyes ran down the red flannel shirt to the snugly fitting jeans. Nice butt. Rachel realized she was perving, but she couldn't help herself. She stretched her quads as the young man continued mowing, catching another glimpse of that jaw as he half-turned to mow the corner of the yard.

Rachel kept hoping to see his face; she was prepared to wait, but then she suddenly remembered she'd scheduled lunch with her dads, and made a dash for home.

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Later that day she came by at the usual time, and Quinn was waiting.

As they started off down the street, Rachel launched into her thoughts without preamble. "Your gardener appears to be quite attractive."

"What?" the blonde looked utterly perplexed.

Rachel realized Quinn must simply be discombobulated by the lack of context. "I came by earlier today and saw your gardener mowing the lawn. He's cute. Where does he go to school?"

As she was speaking, Quinn's face got increasingly paler. "You...what?"

"Your gardener," Rachel said patiently, a little confused. "He's very attractive."

"We don't have a gardener," Quinn said faintly.

Rachel creased her brow in confusion. "Then who was I watching?"

"Watching?" A faint blush stained Quinn's cheeks.

"Well, not watching." Rachel backtracked quickly. "More uh, looking. I was just jogging past and happened to see-"

Quinn visibly swallowed, and rushed out, "It was me."

"What?" Rachel's eyes widened.

"I was mowing the lawn this morning."

"Oh. Oh!" Rachel was utterly mortified. Not only had she unknowingly been perving on a girl, but said girl was her friend. (And former rival of sorts.) She didn't know what to say; she couldn't find words. "You? As in you, you?"

"Well, yeah. That me." Quinn was still in shock.

"I'm so sorry, please don't hate me."

"I don't," Quinn said automatically.

"I swear, I never meant any harm. I had no idea, or I would never have..." Rachel trailed off, not sure if she was going for "looked" or "told you," but then felt like a creep and blushed.

"I'm not mad." Quinn said flatly.

"But why not?"

"I don't know how I feel. Just, don't talk to me, okay? I have to go." Quinn sprinted off down a nearby street, leaving a distraught Rachel standing alone, staring after her (former?) friend.

Did she mean don't talk to her ever again, or just that day? Rachel cursed her bad luck.

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When Quinn had said she didn't know how she felt, it was true, but not the whole truth.

She was too shocked to feel anything; too shocked to know how she felt. Rachel had thought she was a boy. A cute boy, but still, a boy. She wasn't sure how to react. Her thought processes were kind of on strike.

So she ran. She ran so she didn't have to deal with it, to give her time to think. She ran because that's what she did when things got too hard.

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The following day, Rachel jogged by at the usual time, but Quinn was nowhere in sight, and her bedroom light was off.

Rachel kept going.

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After three more days, Rachel decided she needed to brace herself and face the beast. She scoped out the house to establish that Quinn was home alone, but knocked on the Fabray's door rather apprehensively nevertheless.

After a minute or so, Quinn answered the door, looking a little uncertain.

Rachel smiled, trying to appear perfectly calm. "Hello, Quinn."

"Rachel." Quinn didn't quite look at her.

"I came to see you because I felt compelled to apologi-"

"Was it really that bad?" Quinn asked without warning, still intently avoiding eye contact.

Rachel blinked, startled. "Wh- what?"

"Knowing it was me. Was it really that bad?"

"You ... You're offended that I was mortified to have been caught perv- Uh, looking at my former rival recently turned friend?"

"Yes. Well, no. Not really." Quinn shook her head, frowning at her lack of clarity. "But I don't understand. You seemed horrified, as though looking at a girl - at me - was the worst thing you could have done."

"It wasn't you. It's just that we- we're friends, aren't we?"

"Kind of, yeah." Quinn looked like she wanted to say more, but finished with a tight smile and a simple, "We are."

Rachel smiled tentatively at Quinn, but then looked troubled. "Well, my issue is that you're my friend, and now I'm guilty of objectifying you. Admittedly I do find some girls attractive and while I'd never actually found myself physically admiring a girl in person, or at least not to that extent, that wasn't my greatest concern. It was just- I can't believe I said that to you."

Quinn raised an eyebrow, almost smirking. "That I was cute?"

"Not that." Rachel could feel a blush start to creep up her cheeks.

"Oh." Quinn hesitated a moment. "That I looked like a boy?"

"Yes. That." Rachel avoided her eyes, feeling increasingly self-conscious.

"It's okay." Quinn shook her head lightly. "I was wearing my gardening clothes and kinda had my hair up, so it's really not your fault."

"I certainly never meant any offence. I could only see you from the back, so I only really saw your behind-" Rachel's blush deepened. "I mean, you FROM behind, and your jaw and neck and hair..."

"Okay." Quinn's face was a mask, leaving Rachel nervous.

"I thought you were a pretty boy, if that helps?"

Quinn smiled slightly, finally meeting Rachel's eyes properly. "It kind of does."

"So, will you ever forgive me?"

"Yes. If you'll do one thing for me."

"Yes, of course, anything."

Quinn took a deep breath, and released it along with a string of words. "Please come out on a date with me?"

Rachel stared; she must have heard wrong. "Sorry, what was that?"

Quinn closed her eyes briefly, and then launched into a rapid explanation. "Once it sank in that you felt attracted to me - even if you thought I was a boy - I realized that I've kind of actually had a crush on you for years, and I really think-"

"Stop, please." Rachel's eyes were like saucers. "I can't hear this."

"Why not? Is it Finn?"

"No, we broke up because I realized it didn't mean anything anymore. But I can't date you. You're a girl. Not that I have anything against that, of course; as I'm sure you're aware, my dads are gay. And please understand that I really do find you pretty, but we live in Lima."

"Are you afraid?" Quinn's eyes flashed a challenge.

"Of course I am," Rachel said matter-of -factly. "I've always been bullied just for being different. Because of my talent, my dads, me. What do you think something like this would do?"

"'Something like this?' Really?"

Rachel sighed. "You know what I mean."

"Well, yes, but ... You thought I was cute," Quinn finished lamely.

"I did. And you are. But we're here."

"Fine. If that's how you feel," Quinn said coldly, her eyes glistening.

"I'm sorry, Quinn. Pleas-"

"I don't care. I don't want to hear it. Don't talk to me!" Quinn abruptly closed the door in Rachel's face.

"Oh crap. Not again." Rachel muttered at the door. After a few seconds she turned and walked away. Now what?

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This time, Quinn felt everything, even with the momentary shock when Rachel rejected her. It soon faded into disbelief, then she was engulfed in a wave of shame and fury. How could she have made herself look so damn foolish in front of Rachel freaking Berry?

After Quinn slammed the door, her control faded and the tears fell. She retreated to her music and cranked up the volume, needing something to help distract her from her thoughts, just like before this all started. Why couldn't things ever just be easy?

Quinn eventually decided she had only one choice: a clean break. She hated the thought that Rachel might pretend to understand what she was feeling; might want to talk about it. God forbid Rachel might pity her. But really, for all her faults - her selfishness, her controlling nature, her neediness - Rachel was remarkably compassionate. She loved everyone in Glee and cared about them all, despite the insults and slights she usually got in return.

But it didn't matter. Quinn didn't want to talk about it. She'd put herself out there for nothing, and didn't want a living reminder of that fact jogging along beside her, somehow both adorable and sexy in her revealing workout clothes. No, Quinn was not ready to see Rachel.

After stewing over it for several hours, Quinn sent Rachel a text that simply said, Pretend it never happened. Don't want to see you. Ever.

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Rachel was initially excited at getting a message (without Finn they were few and far between, although she could concede that even while they were dating his texts had been severely lacking in both frequency and content), but her face fell when she read those words.

Rachel tried texting Quinn. Quinn, I'm so sorry, please talk to me.

No response.

Quinn, I didn't mean to hurt you. Please forgive me.

After Rachel's tenth attempt, Quinn finally texted back. Stop. I will block you.

Rachel stopped. Besides, what could she do anyway? They couldn't ever date. Quinn was the closest friend she'd ever had. What if things went horribly wrong? What if they were publicly humiliated? Or bullied? Or worse?

And what if it wasn't enough that she found Quinn pretty, or cute when she was dressed more like a boy?

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Rachel soon came to realize that she missed Quinn and wanted to be in her life, even if she had to compromise in order to do so. Fear was not an insurmountable obstacle. She could do this.

Besides, if she was being honest with herself, she could acknowledge that she had previously felt considerable attraction towards the blonde. For starters, every time they talked alone, and whenever Quinn sang, and then some of those Glee costumes...

So now what she needed was powerful allies. She pondered. The Bully Whips? (Did they hate her?) Puck?

No, what she really needed was a plan.

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Over the following days, Rachel developed her plan. Naturally it went far beyond simply convincing Quinn to talk to her again. She wrote and rejected and rewrote and rejected, getting closer by gradual degrees. She researched online, consulted prior McKinley High yearbooks for potential allies, and mapped out a variety of methods for convincing her future allies. And Quinn. Always Quinn.

She eventually determined that she was ready to proceed with Stage 1: Convince Puck and Santana.

Puck was first.

Rachel concluded that her best method was the most direct: speak to him in person.

Rachel texted Puck and was almost shocked by how readily he agreed to meet up with her. Bored? Horny? (God forbid.) Missing Glee? Maybe - hopefully - missing her? They arranged to meet at the mall where the Glee club had staged her Barbra-vention.

When Puck saw her, he grinned. "Sup, Berry?"

"Hello, Puck. As I'm sure you're aware from my message, I'm hoping you might be able to help me with a situation?"

"Like I said, I'm down with anything as long as it's not too illegal."

Rachel couldn't resist rolling her eyes. "It's not illegal at all."

"Damn. Oh well, I'm still in. What's up?"

Rachel fixed her eyes on Puck's. "Before we start, you need to know that only a very select few can know of this meeting. You have to promise not to breathe a word of this to anyone else. If you do, my life might be forfeit."

Puck just grinned and shook his head. "It's a freaking tragedy how much I've missed your drama."

Rachel looked at him pointedly and he held out his hands in defeat.

"Okay, okay, I swear. Scout's honor, pinky promise, all that shi-"

"Thank you, Puck, that will suffice; I believe you. My situation involves Quinn Fabray..."

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A few days later, at Rachel's request, Puck drove around the block past Quinn's house. Her light - as hoped - was on. Now for stage two.

Hello Quinn. Is your Mom home?

Why are you asking? (Not that I care.)

Please just tell me.

After a much longer pause, Quinn finally replied, She's not.

Puck immediately drove around the corner and pulled his pickup to the curb outside Quinn's house.

Rachel jumped out of the car and went to Quinn's window, throwing a handful of Skittles at the glass panes. "Quinn!"

Quinn tore open the window. "What the hell is your damage?"

"Just hear me out, please."

"You threw rocks at my window!"

"Skittles."

Quinn blinked. "What?"

"I threw Skittles."

"That's even worse!"

"I didn't want to risk breaking your window by using larger projectiles. There are dozens left." She waved the bag in Quinn's direction.

Quinn sighed. "Fine. Why are you here?"

"I realized something I needed to sing to you."

Quinn shook her head, looking defeated. "Why would you ever want to sing to me?"

"Have you forgotten Keep Holding On?"

Quinn looked up, finally meeting her eyes. "Never."

Rachel had never heard a single word sound so intense. It ignited a spark of hope. "Would you consider coming outside?"

"I don't know..."

"Please. It's vital to the purpose and intent of this song." Quinn rolled her eyes, but disappeared from the window, letting herself out of the house a short time later. She was clad in sweatpants and a tank top with no shoes, and looked beautifully disheveled.

Quinn caught her looking and rolled her eyes again. "What? It's not like I'm wearing pajamas." (Rachel didn't need to know that she'd basically worn that outfit to bed. Well, minus the sweatpants.)

Rachel shook her head, smiling so shyly that Quinn could only stare. "No matter what you're wearing, you will always be pretty. Astonishingly so, to be perfectly honest." Quinn's eyes widened, but that was her only visible reaction, so Rachel continued quickly, "But that's not why I'm here. Well, it's indirectly relate-" She stopped herself again. "Back to the immediate purpose of my presence here, I've chosen to sing you a mashup, because no single song had the right message and I couldn't get my words to-"

"Fine, get it over with."

"I also had to alter the keys and rhythms to unify the songs, and reorder some of the lyrics-"

"Please, just sing already."

Rachel spun away, hope glimmering in her eyes. "Okay Puck, let's do it!"

"You told Puck?" For the first time, Quinn looked away from Rachel, and saw him in jeans and a white tank top, sitting in plain sight on the curb next to his pickup. "What the hell, Rachel?"

"Just listen."

It started soft and slow, with just Puck on guitar. After a few seconds, Rachel started to sing, looking at Quinn earnestly, her eyes full of emotion.

"How did it come to this?

I think about you all the time,

It's no excuse but I wish

That I never made you cry.

"I'm so sorry that it's over,

And for the way we let it end.

I couldn't find the words to say..."

Rachel segued seamlessly between songs, holding Quinn's gaze.

"Now I'm shedding my skin

So you can see my face

I need you to know who I am.

I'm ready to go where I've never been

Will you stay around and follow me?"

Quinn listened, torn between hope and doubt. Could she really be saying...?

"And you should know, please believe me,

I've picked up the phone a thousand times and tried to dial your number.

But it's been so long, it's never easy,

It's like trying to spin the world the other way.

"What can I say?

"If I told you that I sneak sometimes

If I told you that I love too much

If I told you life was fair

Would you follow me?"

Rachel's dark eyes showed hope and an endearing hint of uncertainty; Quinn couldn't look away. Could Rachel really be asking her out, despite everything she'd said? She almost held her breath as Rachel sang the next lines, not wanting to hope, not wanting to fool herself. But it was impossible.

"I don't know if I can be sure

Of anything I believed before.

Will you follow me?

"Cause I'm shedding my skin

So you can see my face

I need you to know who I am.

I'm ready to go where I've never been

Will you stay around and follow me?"

As Rachel finished the song, Quinn almost shook herself. "Wow."

"Should I take that as a compliment?"

"Absolutely."

Puck was watching them closely, but at Rachel's pointed glance he went to wait in his truck.

Quinn was still looking a little dazed. "Really, wow. And Idina Menzel is very you, but I really wasn't expecting Carrie Underwood."

"You know her music?" Rachel said, incredulous.

Quinn smirked slightly then sang her reply, meeting Rachel's eyes. "Empty heart filled with regret, I know we were both to blame."

"Wow, do you..." Rachel trailed off, uncertain.

"What?"

"Did you mean that? Or was it just random lyrics?"

"Lyrics are never random."

Rachel's face lit up. "I think I love you."

Quinn's heart leapt, but she just arched an eyebrow at Rachel. "A little soon, don't you think?"

Rachel's eyes widened. "My apologies. It just slipped out. Please disregard that remark. So, were you saying you might be willing to accept my apology?"

Wait, so all of that was just an apology? Dammit. Quinn tried to hide her disappointment. "Yeah, maybe. But I can't believe you told Puck!"

"Well, Puck has dated both of us, plus he often supports me and he doesn't seem to want to get into my pants. Or skirts, rather."

"And you actually believe that?"

"Well, okay, maybe he kind of does want to, but he won't. He's my Jew-bro. His terminology."

"Fine. But I thought you didn't want to do this anyway." So was it an apology or not? For someone who talked so much, Rachel was ridiculously confusing.

"It was an apology, but it was also a lot more than that. I want to try pursuing a relationship with you, I really do. I don't want to let fear win. Puck's looking out for me. You too, if you want."

Quinn was engulfed in a wave of hope so strong and sudden and unexpected that it almost hurt. So Rachel really did want to go out with her? She was suddenly terrified; she automatically deflected. "He said that?"

"Noah said he totally dug it and he would gladly help his Hot Little Jew to seduce his Baby Mama."

Quinn scoffed, while at the same time overwhelmed by that first resurgence of hope. So Puck knew? That had to mean something, right?

Rachel looked flustered despite herself. "I apologize. I intended to paraphrase that remark."

Quinn rolled her eyes, not quite managing to contain her smile. "Sure you did."

"I did tell him not to call you that, for what it's worth. And I won't tell you what else he said," she blushed.

Quinn's teasing turned to a resigned amusement. "Let me guess? He asked to watch?"

"Well, he was more explici-" Rachel corrected herself. "Specific. Well, both really." She blushed harder. "But yes, he did ask to watch."

"I hope you told him to go to hell."

"Well, no. But I told him 'No' very firmly and thoroughly."

"Okay," Quinn sighed.

"Okay?"

"Of course I forgive you for reacting like that. I just kind of expected that you would be okay with it. I'm sorry for assuming."

"I'm sorry too. I didn't mean to react so badly, I just never expected that ... that you..."

Quinn was thrown by Rachel's struggle to get her words out. "That I what?"

Rachel looked up, meeting Quinn's eyes. "It just doesn't make sense, you wanting me. Not after all the insults."

Quinn could see that familiar hunted look back in Rachel's eyes; it felt like she'd been punched in the gut. "What I said, all that stuff, it makes me feel sick. Whenever anyone hurts you, even by accident, I just... I want to make it up to you. All of it." She could feel the tears burning her eyes as she added under her breath, "But I know I never can."

Rachel took a step closer, maintaining eye contact. "I believe you. I've forgiven you and I'm trying to move past it. You've been so supportive these past few weeks and I know you hate yourself for it more than I ever could, or would. But it's not just that."

"Then what?"

"You're so pretty." Rachel said simply, as though that explained everything.

"You think that means I wouldn't be attracted to girls?" Quinn said coolly.

"No, I just never expected that you could ever be attracted to me. You blindsided me. I thought I might perhaps get some interest from girls after I move to New York, but I would never have expected it from you."

Quinn stared, a little startled at this revelation. "So you knew... you were sure ... that you like girls?"

"My dads have always let me be myself, without trying to define or limit who I was attracted to, no matter the gender."

Quinn quietly nodded, absorbing Rachel's declaration. "I can't say it's been like that for me - far from it - but I can't deny that I'm attracted to you. You've always been so unconscious of your beauty. It makes me envy you."

Rachel stared, disbelieving. "Me? You envy me?"

"I do."

"But... My nose." Rachel touched it automatically.

"I never should've gone along with your plan to get surgery. Your nose is perfect; you wouldn't be you without it." Quinn stepped closer and gently kissed Rachel's nose.

Quinn's response was so unexpected - it somehow meant so much more than Noah's reassurance ever had - that Rachel couldn't stop herself from crying, to the dismay of the startled blonde.

"I - I'm sorry." Quinn patted Rachel's shoulder for a moment, and then gently pulled the girl into her embrace.

Rachel buried her head in Quinn's shoulder and gratefully wrapped her arms around the taller girl's back. "It's okay. I'm okay."

Quinn tried to absorb the warmth and soothing scent of Rachel, tried to calm her racing heart. She was so close, but not now. Not yet. "Then why-"

Rachel wasn't sure exactly; it was hard to put into words. "I - I love my nose."

Quinn smiled and freed a hand to brush Rachel's hair back behind her ear. "Good. So do I."

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The following afternoon, Rachel came by at the usual time, dressed in her jogging gear. Quinn's smile at her appearance was so relieved and happy that Rachel's beaming response nearly split her face in two.

"Hi Rachel."

"Hello Quinn! How are you?"

Quinn smiled wider at her enthusiasm. "Good. Great, actually. How are you?"

"Wonderful, thank you."

"Good." Quinn hesitated a moment. "So now that we're okay again, how do you feel about what I asked you the other day? Did you really mean you want to..." She couldn't bring herself to say the words again.

"Are you asking if I'd still like to go out on a date with you?"

Quinn relaxed into a hopeful smile, relieved that Rachel hadn't just left her floundering. "Yes."

"Then yes. Absolutely!" Rachel skipped a few steps. "Isn't is a beautiful day? The weather is just perfect, with the ideal balance of sun and breeze, and the birds are singing cheerily in the trees!"

Quinn stared at her for a moment, then burst out laughing.

Rachel pouted. "Quinn!"

"I'm sorry, but that was so cute! And insane. You do realize there aren't any bird calls right now, right?"

"I was being poetic. Besides, it feels like a perfect day, and that always comes with birdsong."

Quinn laughed again. "If you say so." At Rachel's indignant huff, she leaned in towards the smaller girl and gave her a butterfly kiss on the forehead. "I love it."

Rachel responded with Quinn's favorite shy, blushing smile.

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On date night, Rachel wore a black dress she had worn once to school. It had worked on Finn, but more importantly she had it on good authority that it had also worked on a certain blonde ex-cheerleader.

Quinn answered the door in a flannel shirt and fitted jeans, spinning a baseball cap on her finger. "Hey, you," she said nonchalantly. Her still-quite-short hair was half falling out of a rough ponytail.

"Hello Quinn. I see you decided to go with a look you knew I liked." Rachel rolled her eyes, but couldn't hide her smile. Up close, it looked even better on the blonde. "Purple plaid really suits you."

"Thanks." Quinn smiled at Rachel, and then really looked at her. "Oh." She swallowed visibly.

Rachel raised her eyebrows teasingly, "Ah, I'd heard you liked this dress."

"How?"

"Oh. Oh no. Please forget I said anything."

"Now I really need to know. Come on Rachel, please?" Quinn gave Rachel her best pleading look.

"Fine, if you must know, I was nervous about what to wear so I asked Santana for assistance. She said she caught you staring appreciatively that day at school, even though you refused to acknowledge it."

"Oh yeah, I remember; I was so clueless about my feelings. I think I claimed I was shocked that you actually had an item of clothing that suited you."

"I see. Admittedly you were very repressed, but I was possibly more clueless, all things considered."

"Wait, let me get this straight. Santana Lopez helped you, Rachel Berry, get ready for a date with me, Quinn Fabray?"

"Yes. Now you've established who we all are, why don't w-"

Quinn shook her head, clearly still trying to adjust. "Are we all in backwards land or something?"

"Santana's a founder of the Bully Whips and she's clearly in love with Brittany, so I figured she might help."

"Yeah, she's like Queer Eye for the Bisexual Girl."

"It's not just that."

"What's not?" Quinn was confused. Did she have an issue with the word bisexual? Was it too limited? Too open to ridiculous misconceptions? Admittedly it wasn't an ideal method of defining-

Rachel unwittingly interrupted Quinn's internal monologue. "I wasn't just asking for help with my outfit."

"Oh." So clearly it wasn't about the bisexual label. "You mean the bullying?"

"Naturally. David's willing to assist us, too."

"And you actually trust that jerk?"

"Santana told me- Yes. I have reason to believe he's sincere."

"Is there anyone in this town who doesn't know about this?"

"'This'?" Rachel echoed questioningly.

"Us," Quinn said simply.

"Us?" Rachel echoed, smiling. "I like that. And please don't worry, I only told those two and Puck."

"Well I guess as long as Kurt and Mercedes don't know- What is it?"

Rachel had looked away guiltily. "Well... Kurt saw me with Puck and he may have overheard us planning my serenade to woo you."

"Crap. What if they don't know to keep it quiet?"

"I thought you didn't care?"

"Well, yeah. I didn't. But, it's - well, what if you change your mind or it doesn't work ou..." Quinn trailed off.

Rachel felt a little better knowing that they were both nervous; she smiled reassuringly at Quinn. "Why don't we just go out for our date and try not to worry about anything?"

Quinn nodded, smiling back tentatively. "Sounds good. So what's the plan?"

"Plan?" Rachel blinked, confused. "Oh, I don't know - I didn't plan anything."

"You didn't? I thought you'd have it all planned out in excruciating detail."

"No, I was so worried about my outfit and the idea of going out in Lima that I didn't actually think to plan anything."

"Oh. Wow."

"Maybe we could see the new Harry Potter film, if that would interest you?" Rachel had already been with her dads, but she liked Harry Potter, and it seemed like a good idea.

Quinn smiled. "Okay, yeah. I'd like that."

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Quinn had already been to see the new Harry Potter twice, but wanted to go with Rachel. The first time she'd gone with Britt and San, which reminded her why they didn't go to the cinema together anymore (she wished she could bleach her brain), and the second time she'd treated Sam.

Sam hadn't read the books (he was more of a films and comics guy), but he had seen all the movies, so they'd had fun.

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Quinn and Rachel got a few stares once they were out in public, but nothing major. It was probably just curiosity: their combination of outfits was admittedly rather unusual. Not that Quinn's clothing would have been as noticeable without Rachel's dress - and legs - drawing everyone's attention. Rachel assured Quinn not to worry, because Puck and David were on high alert. (That thought alone still had Quinn a little apprehensive.)

In the darkened cinema, both of them became more relaxed. They shared the remaining Skittles from Rachel's serenade and kept their hands in some degree of contact throughout most of the film, but didn't try for anything more. Quinn was still traumatised from being next to Santana and Brittany, and Rachel didn't want to risk attracting too much attention, not so soon. (Clearly she was worrying more than necessary, given what had recently taken place between two girls in that very cinema. Not that she knew; Quinn was embarrassed enough just remembering.)

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The pair talked about Harry Potter the whole way home (it turned out they'd both waited for their Hogwart's letter only to be disappointed, and were both rereading the series again that summer), and it seemed like no time had passed before Quinn was pulling her car up outside Rachel's house.

"Thank you Quinn, I had a very enjoyable evening," Rachel said, undoing her seatbelt.

Quinn smiled. "Good. Me too."

"I know we're a little unconventional, but I would like to do this again, if you're interested?"

"Absolutely."

"Good." Rachel's eyes dropped from Quinn's eyes to her lips and then back up, but she made no move, instead hesitating with her hand on the door handle, staring at Quinn. Rachel wanted to kiss her, but was that too forward? Too soon? And what if it somehow backfired and made Quinn realize she wasn't actually interested?

Quinn saw Rachel's indecision, and impulsively leaned across the car towards her.

Rachel's eyes widened, but then fell closed as she felt a couple of warm breaths against her mouth, followed by soft lips. They kissed briefly, then Quinn pulled back and their eyes met before she moved closer again, placing a hand on Rachel's cheek. This kiss was more confident, more intimate. It felt amazing. Rachel moaned, and reached across to run her fingertips along Quinn's jawline; it really was glorious. She pulled away and kissed her way along it until Quinn gasped and recaptured Rachel's lips with her own. Quinn's tongue sought entrance to Rachel's mouth and then brushed against her tongue, teasing, enticing.

Eventually Quinn forced herself to pull away, flushed and short of breath. She said reluctantly, "I guess you'd better go in? If we don't stop soon, I won't want to."

Rachel visibly collected herself. "Okay, yes, we should wait. For now."

Quinn flushed darker at that last quiet remark. "Would you like to go out again next Friday?"

Rachel nodded, eyes dark and hair tousled. "That would be lovely."

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After Quinn drove away, Rachel's thoughts ran wild on everything. Things would be different now, she just knew it. They already had the Bully Whips and Puck on their side; it was only a matter of time before they won everyone over. Failure was not an option.

Rachel dashed upstairs to her room to get a pen, ideas scrambling for attention in her head.

She'd start with finally establishing the GayLesbAll at McKinley. Well, if necessary, she'd concede to calling it the Gay-Bi-Straight-Alliance, given that she was planning to get their current allies involved, and most of them were either straight or closeted. (Well, more closeted than straight.) Then there were her brilliant ideas for a new failproof Glee-Football unification plan. Yes, this would work; she'd be able to safely kiss Quinn at school in no time.

No - failure was not an option. She REALLY needed that pen.

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A/N: I hope you enjoyed the story! Songs are Carrie Underwood's What Can I Say? and Idina Menzel's If I Told You. (Yes, I know that the Here album is no longer available, but they have the internet. :P) Please review - I'd love to know your thoughts!

A/N 2: This may have been inspired by personal experience. (But nothing involving Quinn or Rachel because they're not real and I don't own Glee. Shocking, I know.)

A/N 3: There may end up being a sequel if I can figure out Rachel's foolproof plan for the Glee-Football unification. ;) Feel free to offer suggestions!