This is just going to be a short little story for the holidays and I'll be posting a chapter a day.

Chapter 1

"That's enough!" Mr. Schue yelled. "Both of you!"

Rachel huffed and crossed her arms over her chest to show her annoyance. She had just been trying to give Quinn a little friendly advice only to be snapped at once again, and Mr. Schue was acting like she had done something wrong.

"I'm tired of listening to you two bicker at each other and, frankly, I'm at a loss about what to do," Mr. Schue said. "You've been teammates for the last year, but you still can't learn to get along. Well, I've had enough. If you two can't learn to get along, you're both out of the play."

Rachel's mouth dropped in indignation. "Mr. Schue, you can't do that. We open in two days!"

"I know and I don't care," Mr. Schue replied. "I'll cancel the play if I have to. I do know I'm not going to listen to you be at each other's throats one more time."

"Wanky."

Rachel rolled her eyes at Santana's comment and noticed Quinn doing the same.

"This is completely unfair," Rachel argued. "I was simply telling Quinn she would be better seen if she took a few steps to the left. I shouldn't be punished when she was the one who threatened me with physical violence."

"I don't care, Rachel," Mr. Schue replied. "You've been bossing everyone around for the last few weeks. You're not the director."

Rachel huffed again. She knew she wasn't the director; if she had been, they certainly wouldn't have as many problems as they did under Mr. Schue's direction. She just wanted it to be the best production it could be, so she had been giving everyone tips. Unfortunately, most of her fellow students didn't want to listen to them even if she knew what she was talking about.

"You two don't need to be friends, but you do need to learn to act like civilized people toward one another," Mr. Schue stated. "One more outburst from either of you and you're both out."

"But—"

"I don't want to hear it, Rachel," Mr. Schue interrupted.

Rachel felt like crying, but she wasn't about to do it in front of everyone. None of this was fair and she felt like she was being punished for no reason. Not for the first time, she felt like Mr. Schue was actively trying to ruin her life. Like most of the kids and other teachers at school, he'd never seemed to like her very much.

"Let's take a break," Mr. Schue said. "I want everyone back here in ten minutes."

Before the teacher had even finished talking, Rachel was already walking away. As she began walking down the steps and down the aisle, she could hear everyone else dispersing behind her. Since she didn't have to worry about any of them following her to make sure she was okay, she didn't bother holding back her tears any longer.

She couldn't believe how unfair Mr. Schue was being. First, he hadn't given her the lead role in the play, and now he was trying to kick her out of it entirely. And to make matters worse, he'd given the lead role to Quinn. Quinn had never shown any interest in acting before, and Rachel was convinced Quinn had only tried out for it because she wanted to take the role from her.

"Do us all a favor, Quinn, and get Rachel kicked out of the play," Rachel heard Santana say in a loud voice. "At least then the rest of us won't have to listen to her. Better yet, we won't have to look at her."

Rachel did her best to ignore Santana's comment as she passed by the bathroom for one a little further down the hallway. Unfortunately, she was used to hearing much worse come from the Cheerio's mouth, but she would be lying if she said it didn't still hurt her feelings. What hurt more, though, was that no one ever defended her in any way. Not only did they not stop Santana form saying the things she did, but Rachel actually heard several of them laugh.

"She can't do that," Brittany replied. "Then she'll be out of the play, too."

"She could take one for the team," Mercedes said. "And then I could take the lead since everyone knows I should've been the one to get it in the first place."

Rachel wanted to turn around and say something, but she knew it wouldn't do any good. Instead, she held her head up as she rounded the corner, not wanting to appear as if anything they said had any effect on her.

Rachel hesitated as she watched Quinn walking across the parking lot. After a moment, though, she quickly began following her, hoping to catch her before she got in her car and drove off. She knew she was probably going to regret this, but she wasn't about to get kicked out of the play and something had to be done.

"Quinn!" Rachel called out.

She could see Quinn's shoulders rise and fall, obviously sighing at hearing Rachel's voice, but her steps didn't slow. If anything, she seemed to begin walking faster, but not fast enough to get away from Rachel.

"Wait," Rachel demanded as she caught up with the blonde. "We need to discuss this."

"What's there to discuss?" Quinn asked.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I don't want to be kicked out of the play," Rachel replied. "And Mr. Schue says we have to get along or else—"

"I know what he said," Quinn interrupted. "And maybe if you would stop telling me what to do fifty times a day—"

"I'm not telling you what to do," Rachel said before Quinn could finish her sentence. "I was simply trying to help."

"But you're not helping!" Quinn replied, her voice rising. "You think you should have gotten the part, and you keep pointing out how you would have done it. But you didn't get it, did you? Maybe there's a reason for that."

"Of course there is," Rachel said. "Mr. Schue doesn't like me, and he let his bias against me cloud his judgment."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "It couldn't be that I was just better than you, could it? I know you think you're better than everyone at everything, but that doesn't make it true."

"Who says I think I'm better than anyone?" Rachel asked. "You're the one who thinks you're superior to everyone just because you're more popular."

"You don't know anything about me, Rachel," Quinn replied.

"I know plenty about you," Rachel argued.

"Prove it," Quinn replied.

Rachel's mouth opened and closed for a moment before she asked, "What?"

"If you think you know so much about me then prove it," Quinn said.

"And how am I supposed to do that?" Rachel asked.

Quinn didn't answer; instead, she started to turn toward her car.

"Alright, I know you were only with Finn to boost your popularity, which is the most important thing to you, isn't it?" Rachel said, stopping Quinn. "You don't care who you hurt as long as it boosts your social standing, and I think you hate me because I refuse to be intimated by you like everyone else is."

"If popularity is the most important thing to me then why am I in the Glee Club?" Quinn asked.

"Because you wanted to keep an eye on Finn because you were worried something would happen between us," Rachel replied. "And because you wanted to sabotage the club for Miss Sylvester."

"But that doesn't answer why I'm in it now," Quinn said.

"I think you actually like performing," Rachel replied. "Or maybe you just want the extra opportunity to insult me as much as possible."

"Not everything is about you, Rachel," Quinn said. "And if you would stop your passive aggressive comments that you want to pretend are constructive, maybe I wouldn't have a reason to insult you so much."

"I'm just trying to help," Rachel replied.

"No, you're not," Quinn said, taking a step toward her. "You're just mad Mr. Schue didn't give you the part."

"I won't lie," Rachel replied, standing her ground. "I believe I should have gotten the lead role. I think your audition was weak and devoid of emotion. But that doesn't mean I haven't been trying to help. Even if I'm not the lead, I still want the play to be the best it can be. Mr. Schue's direction has been a little lacking, and since he always ignores any suggestions I make, I thought it would be easier to simply bring them to your attention."

"Well, if you bring something to my attention one more time, we'll both be out of the play," Quinn stated.

"Or you could actually take what I say into consideration," Rachel replied. "Just because you don't like me, it doesn't automatically mean I'm wrong about everything."

"And you thinking you're right about everything doesn't make it true," Quinn argued.

Rachel huffed. "You're never going to listen to anything I have to say, are you?"

"Why should I?" Quinn asked. "It's not like you do. You're too busy talking over everyone to hear them. You always think you're the only person in the room who matters."

"You know, you may say I don't know anything about you, but I think you know even less about me," Rachel said before turning on her heel and walking away from Quinn without another word.

Rachel could feel the cold air begin to creep in almost the second she turned off the engine. Despite the fact that the car was rapidly becoming cold, she remained sitting in it for several minutes as she looked up at the large house. She had never actually been to Quinn's house before, but she knew she had the correct one. Finn had pointed it out to her once as they drove by. Plus, Quinn's car was sitting in the driveway.

After about five minutes, Rachel grabbed her bag from the passenger seat and finally stepped out into the freezing air. It had been flurrying the whole drive over and was beginning to pick up, causing a light dusting of snow to form on the ground. She was just thankful it had held off long enough for her to get there; she hated driving if there was any snow on the road.

When she walked toward the house, she noticed most of the lights were off, and she wondered if anyone was even home. One of the rooms on the second floor was lit up, though, and it looked like a bedroom from what she could see. As she quickly rang the doorbell, she hoped it meant Quinn was home and that she hadn't just forgotten to turn it off before leaving.

Rachel stood there and listened carefully for any sign that someone was home. After about a minute, she heard footsteps and then noticed the curtain on the window next to the door flutter a little. The door didn't immediately open, though, and she wondered if she was going to have to keep ringing the bell until Quinn finally opened the door, but just as she reached out to ring it again, the door finally opened.

"Hello, Quinn," Rachel greeted.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Quinn asked.

"Are you going to invite me inside?" Rachel asked. "It's a little cold out here."

Quinn looked like that was the last thing she wanted to do, but she stepped to the side, nevertheless, and Rachel took that as her invitation. She walked inside, glancing at Quinn as she did so, and stopped just inside the entryway, looking toward Quinn as the door was closed behind her.

"What are you doing here, Rachel?" Quinn asked as she turned toward her.

"You asked me to prove that I know you, and that's what I intend to do," Rachel stated.

"But why are you here?" Quinn asked.

"I don't know about you, but I don't want the play to be cancelled because of us," Rachel replied. "I have my future to think about, and extracurricular activities are one of the things that can help put me above my peers when it comes to getting into the school of my dreams. I've worked too long and hard on this play to not even get to perform in it."

"Are you going to tell me why you're here?" Quinn asked.

"I told you, you asked me to prove that I know you," Rachel repeated. "I'm here to do just that. I'm also here in hopes that we will somehow come to an understanding, or at least a truce. We need to make it through the next two days without arguing, and I think the only way that is going to happen is if we spend some time together and you see that I'm not out to get you, Quinn. Of course, I also intend on proving that I'm right and I know more about you than you think I do."

Quinn looked flabbergasted, but Rachel was taking it as a good sign that she wasn't immediately demanding she leave. As she drove to her house, she wondered if Quinn would even open the door for her, so she already considered it a small victory that she was standing there in her home.

"Please tell me you're kidding," Quinn said.

"I wouldn't joke about something as serious as the fate of my future," Rachel replied. "And I assume you would also like to get into a good school, so I'm sure you'll agree that it would be a shame if neither of us got to participate in the play after we've both spent so much time and energy on it."

"Or you could just stop criticizing every move I make during rehearsals," Quinn remarked.

"Or you could stop assuming it's criticism and realize that maybe I'm really just trying to help," Rachel countered.

Quinn sighed. "Do you really think spending time together is going to help anything? If anything, we're going to kill each other."

"Maybe not, but what's the worst that could happen?" Rachel asked with a shrug.

"I thought saying we would kill each other covered that," Quinn replied.

"That's a little dramatic, don't you think?" Rachel asked.

"Ask me again in an hour," Quinn said, raising her eyebrow.

It was strange to be standing in Quinn Fabray's bedroom. It would be a lie to say she hadn't wondered what it looked like, but now that she was here, it wasn't quite what she'd pictured. She'd imagined there would be trophies all around from her various victories with the Cheerios, but the only trophies she saw were the ones from the Glee Club's win at Sectionals the past two years. Other than her jacket hanging on the back of the chair, there was nothing in the room to indicate that she was even on the cheerleading squad. She wondered if it was always like that or if Quinn had taken everything down when Coach Sylvester kicked her off the team and had simply never put it back up once she rejoined.

Rachel looked over her shoulder, listening for any sign that Quinn was coming back. After several awkward minutes of standing in the foyer, the blonde had disappeared, mumbling something Rachel didn't quite catch. Eventually, Rachel had wandered upstairs, looking for a bathroom but found Quinn's bedroom instead. It had been so long, though, that she was beginning to wonder if she should go downstairs and see if Quinn had fled the house.

Rachel slowly turned away from Quinn's bookcase and glanced around the room before heading toward the door, where she stopped and looked down the hallway. Just as she'd made up her mind to head downstairs, she could hear footsteps coming up the stairs. She took a few steps back and clasped her hands in front of her, not wanting to look like she'd been snooping around Quinn's room. Not that she had been; she'd been sure not to touch anything, only observing things out in the open.

"I was beginning to wonder if you had left your home to get away from me," Rachel said when Quinn walked into the room.

"Give me time," Quinn replied, pausing for a moment to look at Rachel before walking toward her bed.

"So, you didn't have any plans for the evening, did you?" Rachel asked.

Quinn shrugged but didn't really answer. Rachel didn't really want to interrupt if Quinn did have plans, but since she wasn't saying anything, Rachel wasn't going to worry about it.

"I'm sure you never thought I would be in your bedroom," Rachel commented. "Or I'm guessing you probably hoped I would never be here."

"What could possibly make you think that?" Quinn said, giving her a wry smile.

Rachel gave her a slight smile and then looked down. She hated how Quinn rarely seemed to give her a straight answer about anything. She wondered if it was something Quinn purposefully did, and if it was, she wondered if Quinn did it to everyone else or if she was just like that with her.

"What's this?" Quinn asked, looking at Rachel's bag, which was sitting on the bed.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Rachel said, walking forward. "Let me move that. I didn't really know where to set it."

"What the hell is in there?" Quinn asked when she lifted it.

"Oh, you know—clothing, toiletries." Rachel shrugged. "Everything I thought I may need for the next few days."

"Why do you have clothing and toiletries?" Quinn asked.

"Didn't I tell you? I'm spending the night," Rachel replied.

Quinn's mouth fell open and she almost looked as if she wanted to laugh as she sat down on the bed and said, "You're what?"

"I'm staying the night," Rachel replied. "As long as it's okay with your mother, that is."

"Who says it's okay with me?" Quinn asked.

"While I'm sure it's not on top of your list of things to do this evening, I think you'll agree that it needs to happen given our situation," Rachel said. "I could leave tonight, but I'll just be back in the morning. I told you, I'm here to prove you wrong and to make sure we get through the next few days without incident. And I think the only way we can come to an understanding is if you get to know me a little better, and the only way that's going to happen is if we actually spend a little time with each other."

"My mother isn't here," Quinn stated.

"Oh," Rachel said with a slight frown.

Before she could ask where Quinn's mother was, the blonde had stood up from the bed and turned her back to Rachel. Even though the question was on the tip of her tongue, she could sense that Quinn didn't want to talk about it, so she decided to wait until later to ask her.

Rachel couldn't help looking at the pictures on the wall as she slowly walked down the stairs. She could tell there were once a lot more pictures up judging by the slight discoloration of the paint on the wall. She could only assume Quinn's mother had taken down all the pictures of Quinn's father after the divorce. Most of the ones left were of Quinn and who Rachel guessed was Quinn's sister whose name escapes her. Though she noticed there were quite a few more of the sister than of Quinn.

She averted her eyes away from the wall and made her way down the stairs and began wandering around, looking for the kitchen. She wasn't really sure where Quinn had disappeared to again, but she was thirsty and needed something to drink. Since Quinn hadn't actually objected to her staying the night, she figured she would try to make herself at home.

Rachel passed through the living room, the den, and the dining room before finally stepping into the enormous kitchen. As with the rest of the house, it was completely spotless, and Rachel wondered if anyone ever actually cooked in it or if all the fancy appliances and gadgets were more of a show of status than something that was actually used.

She had no idea which cabinet had the glasses in them, so she walked to the nearest cabinet, but paused when she glanced out the window. At first she thought it was just her imagination, but then she saw movement again and realized Quinn was sitting out there, rocking back on forth on a porch swing. The snow was falling pretty heavily now, blanketing the ground in the white powder, and Quinn was just sitting out there watching it. Quinn looked so peaceful that Rachel almost didn't want to interrupt her, but after a few minutes of watching her, she walked to the door and quietly opened it.

"You're going to freeze out here," Rachel softly said.

"I didn't know you cared," Quinn replied.

"Contrary to some people's belief, I care about everyone in the Glee Club," Rachel said as she walked up to Quinn, stopping beside the porch swing. "Well, if you're not worried about freezing to death out here, would you mind if I join you?"

"Could I stop you if I tried?" Quinn asked back.

"Yes," Rachel replied.

"I haven't been able to so far," Quinn said.

"Actually, you never told me I couldn't be here or asked me to leave," Rachel pointed out. "You may not be pleased with my being here, but I think you know I'm right. Doing this play is important to both of us, and the only way we're going to get to participate in it is if we put our differences aside. I'm not your enemy, Quinn; I want you to see that."

Quinn looked over at her for a moment but then looked out on the backyard once again as she said, "I never said you were my enemy."

"Maybe not, but it's been clear from the day we met that you didn't like me very much," Rachel said, smoothing her skirt down as she took a seat next to Quinn. "I've just never really been able to figure out why. You jump on me for everything I do or say, and you seem to think I have something against you when I don't."

"You're being a little overdramatic," Quinn replied. "And I thought you said you knew me, so shouldn't you know why?"

"I didn't claim to know everything about you," Rachel said.

Quinn glanced at her but didn't say anything, and Rachel fell silent, watching the snow drift to the ground. The light dusting that had been covering the ground when she arrived had turned into several inches, turning everything in Quinn's backyard white. Thankfully, the porch was covered so they were out of the worst of it, but the wind occasionally caused some of the flakes to drift their way.

"It's really beautiful out here," Rachel commented as she felt a snowflake land on her nose.

"Yeah," Quinn agreed.

Rachel began to shiver, which wasn't surprising since she had gone out in nothing but a sweater and a skirt. Quinn, on the other hand, looked perfectly comfortable sitting there, showing no sign that she was even a little cold.

"My fathers went to Maine for the holidays," Rachel admitted. "They flew up to spend it with Daddy's family. They're going to be there until after Christmas. I tried to get them to wait until after the play so I could go with them, but they wanted to be able to spend more time up there. So, not only are they not going to be here to see me in the play, but I'm going to be alone for a week."

"I'm going inside," Quinn said, standing up, causing the swing to rock back and forth. "You can stay out here or I can show you where the guestroom is."

"Oh—yes," Rachel replied in surprise, quickly standing as well, and giving Quinn a smile. "Yes, thank you."