AN: As of right now, this story this story is rated T; it will eventually be changed to M in later chapters. Faberry is the main focus of this story with a side of Brittana, Faberritana friendship, and a teeny tiny, barely noticeable dash of Klaine from time to time. This chapter just gets the ball rolling, there will be more action in the chapters to come. Please review and let me know what you think!
Disclaimer: I do not own a damn thing.
Rachel wasn't sure why she was so nervous. It was just Quinn, after all. They'd remained good friends over the last two years while Quinn attended Yale and Rachel studied at NYADA. They texted daily, spoke on the phone weekly, and on the second Saturday of every month, they'd meet in Norwalk, Connecticut, the halfway point between their two schools.
There wasn't much to do in Norwalk. On their second visit together, Quinn thought it'd be fun for them to visit the aquarium. After listening to a two hour lecture on why marine mammals don't belong in captivity, Quinn never suggested that idea again and even made an effort to avoid the part of town where the aquarium was located.
Most of their visits consisted of them chatting in little sandwich shops or coffee houses. Sometimes, they wouldn't even leave their hotel room. They'd lay in the double bed watching some trashy television, always on their respective sides and never touching, and order in room service.
These were Rachel's favorite visits. She didn't even mind when Quinn opted to watch some ridiculous reality show when there was a Barbra movie playing on a different channel. This was something that'd normally result in a storm out, but they only had twenty-four hours together, and Rachel didn't want to waste any of it.
Their Saturday trips to Norwalk would no longer be necessary, though. When Quinn first began at Yale, her goal was to major in Theatre Studies before attending The Yale School of Drama. However, during her studies, Quinn discovered that her real passion lied in directing, not acting. After some extensive research, she discovered that NYU's directing program was much more prestigious than the one at Yale.
Much to Quinn's relief, she was accepted after applying for a transfer to NYU. Rachel was delighted when she heard the news. Her delight was short lived, however, because a week later Quinn broke the news that she wouldn't be moving to New York after all.
Rachel took a sip of her coffee in an attempt to hide her disappointment. "What made you decide to stay at Yale? Your texts made it seem like you were relatively excited about the transfer."
Quinn shifted in her chair and began to rub her forearm, a nervous habit Rachel realized her friend had soon after their trips to Norwalk started. "I was, I still want to go; but despite seemingly endless searching for an affordable place to stay, the only thing in my price range involves a roommate who offered to knock off fifty dollars a month if I agreed to provide him with certain 'services'. So, needless to say, I opted out of that."
Rachel forced back the urge she had to demand the name, address, and phone number of this sleazy man who'd had the nerve to treat her friend that way. "What about living on campus?" she asked, still trying to keep her cool.
"There was some kind of issue with the dorms and to be honest, after living on my own for the last year, returning to dorm life would be kind of a shock to the system."
Rachel nodded in understanding. Despite attending a dramatic arts school where you'd think the students would understand how necessary early morning warm-ups are, her on-campus roommate had filed a total of twelve formal complaints against her. This prompted her fathers to help her get an apartment a few blocks from campus.
"Plus, it's not like Yale is a bad school. It's just not where I saw myself continuing to go, but I guess I shouldn't be picky. I mean-"
"Move in with me," Rachel blurted out.
Quinn raised her eyebrow. "You already have a roommate," she pointed out.
Rachel sighed, wondering how she'd been able to momentarily forget about the messy, always late with rent, tactless being she was forced to cohabitate with. "She'll be fine. She'll probably love it, actually."
"There's no way I can afford even a third of your monthly rent." She was rubbing her forearm again.
"Don't worry about that. We'll figure it out." Rachel eyed her expectantly. Despite only seeing each other once a month, Quinn was her best friend – she'd do anything to help her. Anything.
"Rachel, I can't ask you to do that."
Rachel stilled Quinn's hand with her own, fearing that her friend was going to rub a hole in her arm. "You didn't ask me. I offered; that's what friends do."
A loud ripping sound coming from her roommate's bedroom pulled Rachel from her memory. "Patty LePone!" she shouted as she marched towards the sound.
Rachel stopped by the doorframe just in time to see her obese cat leap from her roommate's bed, likely the only physical activity the cat would bother with that day.
"We've talked about this," Rachel scolded the cat, who looked unfazed. "If the two of you are ever going to have a functional relationship, you cannot tear up her things."
Patty LePone batted a discarded sock around the room and Rachel sighed. Some people, her roommate and Kurt to be specific, insisted that Patty LePone had some sort of behavior problem. This was an idea that Rachel completely rejected. Kurt simply hated the fact that Patty LePone's hair got on his clothing when he visited, and well, her roommate was hostile and had a similar relationship with her girlfriend's cat.
"You can't act this way with Quinn's things, all right?" Rachel said as her roommate appeared in the doorway. "Look who's home, Patty LePone; it's your favorite person, Auntie Tana."
Santana scowled at the sight of the little furball running around with her sock. "I thought we agreed to keep her out of my room?"
Rachel scooped Patty LePone up off the floor and held her protectively. "That can only be accomplished if you shut your door. I certainly hope you don't intend on treating Quinn this way when she moves in."
"If Q shreds my comforter, chews on my socks, or vomits in my shoes, you bet your sweet ass I'll treat her this way."
Rachel pursed her lips together and rolled her eyes. Two years ago if someone told her she'd be living with Santana Lopez, she would have had that person institutionalized.
It happened six months ago. Santana showed up at her door, a black backpack slung over her shoulder, tears filling her brown eyes. She said she and Brittany had broken up and that she didn't know anyone else in the city and had nowhere else to go. She promised that she'd be out by the end of the week. Rachel let Santana in and fixed her a cup of tea and the girl never left, despite getting back with Brittany less than two weeks later. Something about the two of them doing better when they had a bit of space. After living with Santana, Rachel could understand why Brittany would need this space.
If she overlooked the dirty dishes, dirty laundry, the extremely loud moans that came from down the hall at all hours of the night when Brittany stayed over, and Brittany's inability to remember that this wasn't her apartment and that it was not appropriate for her to walk around in the nude, Rachel supposed that living with Santana wasn't all that bad.
Quinn's train was due to arrive at 1:45; Rachel had been waiting at Grand Central Station since 1:30. By 1:35 she'd become impatient and had begun pacing by 1:38.
When the arrivals board indicated the Quinn's train was at the station, Rachel had to remind herself to take a few deeps breaths. Her stomach twisted into knots, just like it had for the past two years on the second Saturday of every month. She wasn't sure why she got this way. She wasn't like this when she saw Tina or Mercedes or Puck. What was so different about Quinn?
Several couples kissing and embracing momentarily distracted her from her nerves, and for the first time in a while, Rachel missed Finn. They'd broken up over winter break. He'd moved out here with her right after high school; but he was never meant for the city life. By April of 2013, he'd moved back to Lima and was working in Burt's garage and the long distance thing just wasn't working for either of them.
As she watched the couples, Rachel realized that it wasn't Finn she was missing, but the closeness of being in a relationship. All of this was forgotten, however, when a blonde pulling two large suitcases behind her appeared in Rachel's line of sight.
"Quinn!" she shouted and waved her arms erratically so Quinn wouldn't walk by her or begin heading in the wrong direction. Her first instinct was to run up and hug Quinn, but she resisted; Quinn had never been one that enjoyed physical affection.
Quinn smiled and walked quickly over to where Rachel was standing. "Hey, Rachel. You didn't have to come. I told you I didn't mind walking to your apartment."
"A beautiful woman dragging two suitcases around in an unfamiliar city? That is a recipe for disaster, Quinn. It sounds like the start of one of those Lifetime movies that they play on Friday nights right before Halloween."
A blush spread across Quinn's cheeks. "I really think it would have been ok," she said as the two of them began heading towards the exit.
Rachel took one of the suitcases from Quinn and began dragging it along. "It's much safer for you to have me walking with you, to protect you."
A mixture between a snort and a laugh escaped Quinn's throat, earning her a glare from Rachel. "I'm sorry. It's just the thought of little you protecting me is extremely amusing."
"I resent the fact that you seem to be judging my abilities based solely upon my height. I'll have you know that I am extremely strong."
Quinn rolled her eyes. "Of course you are."
Rachel focused her gaze on the ground and unsuccessfully tried to hide her grin; she loved when they bantered like this.
Rachel turned the key to her apartment, hoping Santana had vacuumed. She didn't hold her breath, though. Santana had only vacuumed once in the six months that she lived there, and she'd only done it in an attempt to hide the fact that Brittany had spilled grape soda all over the plush, white carpeting in the living room.
"Welcome to your new home," Rachel said as she opened the door to her obviously un-vacuumed apartment. She'd have to bring out her PowerPoint presentation discussing appropriate roommate etiquette for Santana to watch at a later date.
Quinn had been to Rachel's apartment a few times before, but Rachel was still worried about how it would be received. "As you'll recall, you and I will be sharing a room. Unless of course you'd rather share with Santana, that is."
As if on cue, Santana sauntered out of her bedroom. "She knows better than to make that mistake."
It was true, years of sharing a room with Santana and Brittany at various cheerleading camps had left Quinn extremely wary of ever sleeping near either of them ever again.
Rachel smirked when Patty LePone made a half-hearted attempt at swatting at Santana's backside as she passed by the couch the cat was perched on. Santana gave Quinn a small hug before moving into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water.
"I've already placed another twin bed in my room for you, Quinn. Please feel free to decorate however you want. Are you hungry? Would you like anything to drink?"
Quinn shook her head. "You've done more than enough. I swear, one day I will figure out a way to repay you for this."
"Repayment isn't necessary. In fact, it's the last thing on my mind." Rachel began to drag one of Quinn's suitcases towards their room. "Making sure you have a safe place to stay while you pursue your dream of directing is the only thing I'm concerned about."
Rachel watched eagerly as Quinn surveyed the room. Rachel originally had a queen sized bed, dresser, and chest. Now a nightstand separated two twin beds and the chest had been cleared out and given to Kurt, God knows he is always in need of storage space for clothes.
Over the last couple of years, she'd transitioned from the knee high socks and short skirts to form fitting jeans, so Quinn moving in was a reason to finally part with all of the old clothes. This made it surprisingly easy to go down to half of the dresser and half of the closet so Quinn would have room for her clothes.
"This is great, Rachel. I can't believe you did all of this for me."
"Really, like I said before, it was no trouble. Just a-"
Before Rachel could finish her sentence, Quinn had enveloped her in a tight hug. Rachel breathed in the familiar scent of Quinn. It was sort of citrusy, but a bit sweeter. The knots that were present at the train station had returned, and Rachel didn't understand why. The only other time she'd felt this way from a simple hug was with Finn. She certainly didn't get this way when Kurt or any of her friends from NYADA hugged her.
Maybe it was because she and Quinn were best friends? Yeah, that had to be it. Maybe this is just how people feel when they hug their best friends. Rachel never really had a true best friend before she and Quinn became close, so she had nothing to base it on.
The only other explanation was something she refused to accept.