Rachel thinks that the silence will last forever. She still can't believe Quinn said that. After all the things they had been through. After all the things they had said. After all the things they had done.

"Why . . . why are you being like this?"

"Because it's true. Damnit, Rachel. We were doomed from the start!"

Rachel's eyes fill with tears and she reaches forward, trying to touch the other girl but Quinn doesn't let her. Her long blonde hair obscures her face as she looks away but Rachel can just make out the clench of a jaw and the unmistakable glint of hazel.

"I love you. Despite all of this," Rachel pulls up her sleeve revealing the holy mark that bound her as an ethereal being, "And I want you, Quinn."

"It meant nothing to me!" she suddenly snarls. Rachel's breath catches in her throat as she stares ahead, stunned by those hurtful words. The wind from the cold north howls, numbing her thoughts. "It was purely physical, nothing more."

Rachel swallows, her mind reeling from the harsh words. How is it possible that a few sentences could end a relationship built on thousands of conversations?

"So is this it then? The end?"

After a pregnant silence Quinn turns and they lock eyes. Even though there are no more words exchanged, the look is more powerful than any strongly worded sentence and more visceral than any passionate kiss. The gaze they share conveys so much emotion. Regret. Lust. Sorrow. Anger. Love? When Quinn turns away, her feet crunching distinctly in the loosely packed snow, Rachel sighs and shuts her eyes. When she opens them again the other girl is gone, the only sign of her existence being the faded snow prints etched in the pale white snow and the sweet scent of lavender and honeysuckle.

/ ********/

They're meant to hate each other. And at first they did. Their jobs, positions, and attitudes forced them to do that. Sometimes when Rachel is feeling pensive she ponders if she knew Quinn before the Fall. When the angels divided, some following Lucifer down into the depths of Hell and some staying loyal to God. She should remember if she had ever seen a head of honeyed blonde hair among the stark and beautiful whiteness of heaven. But she can't recall it, no matter how desperately she tries. So she usually buries her head in her hands and mourns the loss of a friendship that could have been. And a love that couldn't.

/ ********/

Quinn positively hates her. And she doesn't even hear the girl say a word. She's in a loose fitting tunic, her long blonde hair hanging down just past her shoulders and her eyes gleaming seductively as they flit from man to man. She clutches the deep blue fabric closer to her chest and smirks as she sees the man she is looking for catch sight of her. Constantine, the obstinate yet brave prince who will either become Christiandom's savior or its executioner. When she turns away, she catches his eye and his interest. And so it woud begin.

Just as she turns the corner of the heavily crowded cobbled street, hearing the merchants shout their wares in a language now dead she feels the pining gaze on her disappear. So she frowns and casts a quick glance over her shoulder. And gnashes her teeth. There is one of them. A pure one. An angle. Even though her face is modestly obscured by a shawl, dark curls tumble from the cloth and Quinn can just catch sight of a delicate face with tan skin and deep brown eyes. For a brief moment the other girl switches her intent gaze from the man in front of her to Quinn. And when they lock eyes the brunette smirks. Quinn walks away in a frenzy, angrily kicking over a basket of fruit as she goes.

/ ********/

Demons don't actually have any power. Sure they could teleport from place to place and couldn't be killed with ease and they could whisper soft tantalizing words to weak willed humans. Yet they couldn't control people. So they shouldn't be that difficult to deal with, right? These thoughts flit through Rachel's brain as she leaps to the side, pulling the quivering girl along with her. Instantly a loud volley of arrows imbeds themselves in the wooden door Rachel had just closed.

She breathes heavily, wiping the sweat from her brow and loosening the tightly clinging bodice of her dress. She casts a stray glance to the cowering girl and she lets out a soft sigh.

"Are you alright?" she inquires softly in the child's native tongue. Wordlessly the child nods, clutching the excess cloth of her sleeves with pale fingers. Letting out a soft sigh of relief she smiles and reaches forward, brushing a finger along the girl's grubby chin.

"W-why did you save me?" Gently she caresses the girl's cheek and opens her mouth to reply when she hears a jarring sound. Without thinking she lunges forward, covering the child with her body, and receives the sharp disconcerting force of a knife in her shoulder. Hissing softly she glances over her shoulder and can barely make out the tint of honeyed hair in the dim light.

"Guinevere? Run. There's a passageway behind the drying beef. Don't look back." The auburn haired girl's eyes widen as she stares into Rachel's calm eyes. Her mouth opens and closes a few times before she scurries away, leaving Rachel and the sinister demon alone.

"I could go and kill her, you know?" comes a thoughtful voice from behind her.

"No you can't. You can only influence, not control." Rachel winces as she clutches at her backside and with a sickening squelch pulls the blade from her shoulder. She hisses and clutches the knife with a tight hand.

"Do you think you can kill me with that?" murmurs a warm breath in her ear. Rachel tenses as she feels teasing fingers stroke the underside of her jaw.

"Stop this," whispers Rachel, trying to put as much conviction and intimidation in her voice as possible. "You're a demon. You and I both know that girl will live. You have no place here-"

"Quinn."

She blinks and glances slightly to the side, gazing into consuming hazel eyes that gleam almost golden in the darkness. Rachel can almost taste the too sweet scent of the demon's breath.

"My name is Quinn." When she turns around Quinn is gone. But for some odd reason Rachel knows that she hasn't gone to find some way to kill Guinevere. And that makes her more confused.

/ ********/

Rachel ducks a swift blow to the head, reeling as the throbbing at her side pains her. Finally she finds an opening and swings her sword straight through the man's core. He stares at her, his eyes flaring crimson before he disappears in a cloud of ash. She gags at the acrid taste the explosion creates in her mouth and the stinging sensation it causes in her eyes. Yet she still squints through the pain, looking for more attackers. After a long moment she sighs and thrusts the sword into the earth, sinking tiredly to her knees. Behind her the soothing sounds of waves crashing against rocks pulses in her ears.

"Angel." She opens a tired eye and observes Quinn as the tall blonde quirks an eyebrow at her bent over form. Warily she begins to stand, ready to defend herself, when the other girl merely raises a placating hand.

"I'm not here to . . . fight." The demons' eyes darken, as if saying the words cause a bad taste to her mouth.

"Really? Contrary to human's lore angels are not rosy cheeked cherubim. We can fight. I can wound you."

The unusual sound of a chuckle answers Rachel's blatant threat.

"I don't want to fight. I merely come to talk." Again a look of distaste contorts the features of the woman whose face resembles a sculpted Botticelli angel. How ironic.

Rachel sighs and relaxes her tense body, flopping tiredly to the peaty ground and inhaling the scent of saltwater and wet grass. She closes her eyes when she hears the other girl settle beside her.

"My name is Rachel."

"What a beautiful name." She turns in surprise at the soft words and for the first time she sees the twist of a genuine smile on Quinn's features.

/ ********/

They cross paths more often after that. Fighting on other sides of a war that will last until the end of time is a dimmer on a friendship or whatever they are kindling, but they manage. They have an unspoken understanding of where they will meet, usually the place was the beach side or a high dense forest. Occasionally they talk. About the intriguing development of man. About his faults, his virtues, his tendencies. Other times they marvel over the lush planet they were assigned to. But more often than not they just sit there side by side staring ahead at whatever place they have chosen to meet at. The silence is a rare peace, a rest in their tumultuous and hectic existences. Their silent pensive moments are precious. And being shared with each other makes it even more special.

/ ********/

Maybe the reason it feels so right is because it truly is forbidden. It had started with a lingering touch, an overeager hello after not seeing each other for a little less than a century. Even though they had lived for eons the separation had been straining for both Quinn and Rachel. Watching Europe waste away amidst the Dark Ages also had done nothing to brighten their mood. So when Rachel had launched herself into Quinn's arms and she had laughed into the girl's sweet perfumed hair the kiss seemed almost necessary. Like it had to be completed in order to convey a truly proper hello.

The simplest brushing of lips. That's all it had been. But the heat that it had created in Quinn's stomach made her feel like she had jumped headlong into the fires of Hell. She was in a daze as they moved their lips against each other, pulling each other ever closer as if the distance created by their clothing was already too much for them. It was only when Rachel wrapped her arms around her neck that she truly realized the magnitude of the situation. Without thinking she pulled away in horror and vanished into nothingness leaving Rachel alone, hugging perfumed air.

They don't talk for at least two centuries after that. There are a few instances when they see each other, be it when a demon decides to cause mischief and Quinn reluctantly tags along or when Rachel has to save a human who will become an essential part of human history. Their reactions to each other become distant and reserved. There are no longer any flickers of remorse or apology. Only the natural hate and distaste of an enemy seen in battle.

Perhaps they would still be avoiding each other if it weren't for the inspiration Rachel felt from the landing of the Mayflower. As she shivered in the frigid weather she smiled and felt unfamiliar tears fill her eyes. For some reason these people had moved her for the first time in a long time. Even though their Christian views were slightly bigoted and overly controlling she still felt a pull of affection toward them. That was why when she felt a familiar presence behind her she reacted without thought. Feeling Quinn's tongue against her own felt so right that they both didn't even care that their over eager kisses slammed them into a snow drift. Breathlessly Quinn pulled away, eyes dark with lust, pink tongue swiping her lips in an insatiable hunger. As Rachel pulled her ever closer she huskily whispered

"God bless America."

/ ********/

It was a wonder that it was going on as long as it had been without anyone figuring it out. Or maybe all the others had known and just didn't say anything. Maybe they all were curious about how heir relationship would end. It had never happened before and since man got predictable after a millennia of temptation and discipline Quinn and Rachel were the new unique source of entertainment.

Quinn tastes iron in her mouth as she is shoved harshly against a wall, the sturdy stones groaning at the forceful blow.

"You blood traitor. You filthy bitch. How dare you this to us?" Another well-placed blow knocks the air out of her lungs. "Don't you know that you already chose your side. You can't be with her. You're living an unattainable fantasy. Quinn, are you as naive as a human child?" They disapear after a few more hits, leaving her in a bloody messy heap on the British road side. Quinn shudders as she weakly opens a painful eye. The word fantasy is branded into her brain, burning her thoughts. Of course it was. Of course.

/ ********/

The sloshing of water pounds loudly in her ears as she slides for the umpteenth time on the slick deck. She prepares to go down again, in order to rescue more people when she sees a glint of golden hair. Rachel knows she should just stop looking because hoping for a miracle can be foolish. And she's an angel so when she says enough is enough it's the truth. She shivers in the frigid air and just as she prepares to rush headlong into the tragic sinking ship a warm hand clutches her wrist.

She's dressed like a boy, her blonde hair shorn and a dark black cap obscuring most of her face but Rachel knows. She doesn't even have to lock gazes with those brilliant hazel eyes to know. Her jaw clenches and she tries to pull her wrist from the light grip but is instead captured in a wet embrace.

"It's been too long," Quinn whispers softly, relishing the scent that wreathes around her, intoxicating her senses like a rich old wine. Rachel shuts her eyes and focuses on the cacophony of a sinking ship, the cries of forsaken people, and the melancholic tune of a band playing one last somber song.

"Why did you come to see me? There isn't any mischief for you to cause. This ship will sink. Isn't your kind done here?" She knows the words cut Quinn more than anything. She uses the girl's stiff new position to roughly push away. Defiantly she glared into the repentent hazel eyes.

"Rachel . . . I-"

"No! You were the one who told me that we had to stop it. You were the one who said we weren't good for each other and it was sick. You were the one that shouted our love was an unnatural abomination!" Angrily she stabs her finger into Quinn's chest, eyes too bright from unshed tears.

"I-"

"And now you want us to get back together like nothing happened? Well I may be an angel, Quinn, but I'm no saint. Find yourself another plaything!" With that Rachel angrily turned away sprinting into the vast cabin of the Titanic her long chocolate hair flying behind her. Quinn stood there for a few minutes, hand still outstretched as if she could somehow reach the other girl. Finally she curled her open palm into a fist and sniffed, ignoring the wetness sliding down her cheeks. She glanced around at the cries of the people and the utter disorder. Without thinking she strode forward and pulled the warm tweed coat from her shoulders, wrapping it around a shivering child. The girl's eyes widened in confusion, her tearstained cheeks rosy from crying or the cold.

"Stay warm. You'll live." Then she wordlessly walked toward the thick crowds of bodies, disappearing into nothingness before the child's very eyes.

/ ********/

Rachel sees Quinn almost yearly after that. Whether she be amidst the battle lines of World War I, a soup kitchen during the Great Depression, or Auschwitz in World War II. And it frustrates her and infuriates her because Quinn had said they should stop so why was she groveling like this? One day Rachel sits in a nearly empty diner at three in the morning, glaring at the insides of a coffee cup. After a sigh she reaches for it but is stopped by pale fingers. Without even looking up she knows. Damnit she knows and she's torn between kissing those fingers and breaking each one of them.

"Rachel. Please."

She shifts in the bright red upholstered chair, a bitter smirk twisting her usually sweet and kind features.

"It hasn't even been a hundred years yet, Quinn. You miss me already? Do you remember when I used to be the one that always had to initiate these meetings? My how the tables have turned." She smiles but it's a farce of the real thing. Quinn thinks it doesn't suit that angelic and beautiful face. Reluctantly she releases her grip on the chipped porcelain cup and lets Rachel take a sip of the dark liquid.

"When will you ever be able to forgive me, Rachel?"

Quinn watches Rachel pause, bringing the cup back onto the counter. She winces as she realizes how vulnerable she sounds. She already was the laughing stock of hell. The scars on her body were proof of just how much the others wanted her to know that. But she has to have Rachel. She needs her because . . . the feelings she has when she is with her are like when she was in heaven dancing in the whiteness and purity of the clouds.

Rachel pauses and mouths a single word then quickly shoulders her purse slung over the back of the bar chair, leaving the diner in a flurry of brown hair and a long blue skirt. But Quinn smiles radiantly watching the girl disappear into the dark night. She smiles because the word gives her so much hope her heart hurts.

"Someday."

/ ********/

This is the most elaborate thing they have ever had to do. Taking an identity of a child and living it out for four years, together. Of course the arrangement had been unintentional . All Quinn had known was she was to prevent an angel, taking the form of a girl named Rachel Berry, from successfully motivating a rag tag group of people in a glee club. She should have know from the first name alone who it truly was.

So imagine her surprise when she strides into the crowded high school and her heart pounds so hard that she thinks it will fall out of her chest. And they see each other. Even across a thick throng of people their eyes met. And when Rachel tentatively raised her hand, a small smile on her face, Quinn felt she could have cried. For a moment she forgot her mission and her purpose for being in this place. All she thought of was being the cause of that smile. And it was enough, she thought, to hold her over till the end of the world.

A/N So I left the story open ended because I think that's what suited this story. Originally they both were just going to hate each other's guts but I'm a big softie and couldn't do that to these two despite how much I love angst. I got inspiration from a thing on tumblr suggesting Quinn as a demon and Rachel as an angel. This isn't my usual fare but I hope you enjoyed. :)