Disclaimer: These characters belong to the creators of Glee; the only one I own is Sophie.

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews/story follows/story favourites, I really wasn't expecting that many. I've changed the month from the first chapter from November to October because it was supposed to be October; I just must not have been paying attention when I wrote it. Once again, I hope you enjoy and all mistakes are mine.


Chapter 2:

It's later than normal when she wakes up; the sunlight is no longer streaming through the gap in her drapes of her bedroom window signalling that it must be higher in the sky. Normally she would be rudely awakened as the sun rays hit her face but today she has slept right through it. Her eyes open slowly and she rubs them, ridding them of sleep. A lazy smile appears on her face as she remembers last night, the careless touches, the drunken kisses, and most importantly, the look on Elle's face when she came down from her high.

Quinn rolls over, expecting to see the aforementioned brunette still fast asleep beside her but her smile quickly drops when she sees that the other side of her bed is empty. She pats it absentmindedly and its cold, Elle must have left a while ago. Disappointment surges through her at the thought that Elle left whilst she slept contently. She's never had to deal with people leaving her the morning after due to the fact that she never brings girls back to her apartment for two reasons.

Firstly, her apartment is her safe haven; it's her own special place where if somebody stayed they would learn more information about her than she wanted them to know.

Like how she has a stack of first edition books in her bedroom, neatly arranged in the order she received them.

Or how her pride and joy in her apartment is her vinyl player and her collection of records acquired over the years. Sophie, her best friend, always teases her for not moving into the 21st century yet but Quinn loves everything about it.

The simplicity of it, the sound of it and especially the antiqueness of it.

That's information that her one-night stands don't need to know but Quinn knows that if she brought people back, they'd undoubtedly snoop.

It's a natural sensation for people, the need to snoop, to be nosey.

And secondly, so she can do exactly want Elle has done.

Leave before her one-night stand wakes up.

However, having it done to her hurts more than she thought it would and her mind casts back to all the people she's done it to, wondering if they were as hurt as she appears to be now. She's not even sure as to why she invited Elle back to her apartment instead of suggesting they went to hers.

Maybe it because she didn't want to leave straight away; she actually wanted to spend the night with Elle.

Clearly the other woman didn't share that thought.

She knew that Elle was different than the normal women she goes for, she knew from the minute Elle confronted her on her behaviour.

Most women just accept everything she says, they don't challenge her on it but Elle did.

If anything, that made her endearing and that fact alone only made Quinn want her even more.

Running her fingers through her hair she climbs out of bed, grabbing the nearest clothes and shrugging them on quickly. Walking towards her kitchen she bears witness to the remnants of last night, the clothes which Elle had ripped off her lay strewn across her apartment floor and the vase which normally rested on the table next to her sofa lay in pieces on the floor after they had knocked it over in their haste and passion.


She pushes Elle backwards until she hits a table and both girls suddenly pull apart at the sound of something hitting the ground and smashing. Quinn glances down to see the vase her mom had bought her as an apartment warming gift, telling her that flowers always brightened up a home and she would need somewhere to store them, shattered beneath her.

"Sorry."

Quinn smiles and rubs her hands up and down the brunette's arms. "Don't worry about it. I never liked it." Her lips meet Elle's once more as her hands move underneath Elle's hoody. She can feel Elle's hand trailing the hem of her shirt, tugging it slightly, a silent command to take it off.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Quinn asks gently, pulling away from the brunette slightly but keeping her hands underneath Elle's hoody, stroking her stomach softly.

"Stop asking me that."

The brunette dives forward and places a trail of kisses from the blonde's collarbone up to her neck. Quinn sighs at the contact and loses herself momentarily in the feel of the other girl's mouth on her body. The way she sucks at her pulse point before nipping it lightly and then soothing the potentially bruised skin with her tongue.

Finding herself again, she removes her hands slowly from underneath Elle's hoody. "I just -" She cups Elle's cheek, forcing the brunette to look at her. "I don't want you to do something you're going to regret in the morning."

She expects a quick answer of either 'I won't' or 'you're right' but the brunette simply stares at her, her bottom lip tugged between her teeth. The silence is considerably unnerving and Quinn wills the brunette to say something.

Anything at this point.

"You're not what I expected."

She tilts her head to the side. "What does that mean?"

Elle shakes her head. "Nothing." She kisses Quinn briefly, just short enough to leave the blonde wanting more but just long enough to prove her point. "I'm sure about this Quinn."

That's all the blonde needs to hear and this time when Elle tries to remove her clothes, she doesn't protest in the slightest.


Quinn shrugs off the memories and heads towards the kitchen. She rests against the sink and inhales sharply before exhaling heavily. She doesn't understand why Elle leaving is affecting her so much, she doesn't do relationships, not anymore, but everything about Elle screamed that she wasn't just a one-night stand and Quinn can't help but wish she'd got a number or at least a surname.

She hears a key turning in the lock of her front door and her head snaps up. Disappointment surges through her once more when her best friend, Sophie, walks through the door instead of the person she wanted to see. She quickly plasters a smile on her face at the sight of her best friend.

"Have you just got up?"

Quinn glances down at her appearance, she's wearing a worn t-shirt and shorts but she guesses that it's her hair and the lack of make-up that is the true giveaway. She brings her attention to her friend to find her dressed in a cream sweater, her auburn hair flowing freely around her shoulders.

"I fancied a lie-in after a late night."

"I can tell. I'm taking it you had a good night then?" Sophie asks playfully, as she surveys Quinn's apartment. She picks Quinn's shirt up and examines it carefully. "All the buttons have been ripped off, she must have been a feisty one."

"I suppose you could say that."

The girl chuckled. "I thought you didn't bring girls back here?"

"Let's call it a momentary lapse in judgement."

"She's not still here is she?" Sophie lowers her voice to a whisper and scans the apartment.

"No," Quinn says sharply. "She's gone."

"You almost sound upset about that," Sophie states. "Don't tell me you actually met a girl you want to see again?"

"What are you doing here anyway Soph?" She asks, avoiding the question. Sophie quirks her eyebrow but doesn't push her on the question any more. "That key is only for emergencies."

"This is an emergency."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I woke up this morning and I had a giant craving for some of your world famous chocolate chip pancakes."

Quinn laughs softly. "So you came over to my place just so I could make you breakfast?"

"Brunch technically because it's just gone eleven," the other woman corrects her. "But that is the general gist of the idea yes."

She scolds her friend quietly whilst shaking her head but nevertheless starts searching her cupboards for the ingredients.

"Can you not have breakfast at your girlfriend's house?" Quinn states. "Who, I may add, I'm still waiting to meet. How long has it been now? Eight months?"

"Nine last week." A smile fills her face at the thought of her girlfriend. "She's got a lot going on right now plus last time we talked we argued so I don't think she wants to see me right now let alone meet you."

"Did you put your foot in it?" Quinn asks, breaking some eggs and tipping them into a bowl with milk and flour before whisking.

Sophie shrugs and lifts herself up so she's sitting on the countertop. "She was upset and I tried to be comforting and there for her but I think I just started to annoy her."

"Well I know how that feels."

The auburn-haired girl grabs a dish towel and whips it in her friend's direction, hearing the smack as it makes contact with the blonde's side. Quinn can't help but laugh as she strokes her side, feigning hurt.

"Just apologise to her and everything will be fine."

"Are you actually giving me relationship advice?"

"I wouldn't say its advice, just common sense."

Sophie sighs heavily. "I've tried ringing her and texting her but nothing. I might go round and see her but only after I've been fed."

"Since she's dominating our conversation right now, may I ask why I have yet to meet her?"

"When we first met, she was quite busy at work and then she flew home to Ohio for a couple of months and she only came back about a month ago so I've wanted to spend as much time with her as I could."

"So that's why you flew out to Ohio the other month for a couple of weeks?"

Sophie nods slowly. "She had family stuff to deal with."

Quinn realises that she isn't going to get any more information and doesn't press any further. "Do I get to meet her now?"

"Right now?"

"Maybe it's just my paranoia but I'm starting to feel like you don't want me to meet her?" Quinn questions lightly but her voice holds a serious tone. "Is she not as hot as you've made out?" The blonde smirks before continuing. "She's not imaginary is she?"

Sophie whips her with the dish towel again, producing a scream from Quinn. "She's not imaginary and she's better than hot, she's beautiful."

"So why don't you want me to meet her?"

The auburn haired woman clears her throat nervously and ducks her head. "Maybe I'm a little worried you'll do your normal tricks on her."

The words come out in a quiet, nervous mumble but Quinn hears them and stops mixing the batter for her pancakes, raising her head to look at her friend. Suddenly her kitchen has been plagued with an awkward silence as Quinn knows exactly what Sophie means by that.

There is no subtlety about her comment whatsoever.

"I wouldn't try anything on with her."

"I know you wouldn't, but…"

"That was a one-time thing," Quinn tells her. "Besides, it was a totally different situation, you weren't together and I was in love with her."

"So was I," the auburn haired girl whispers softly, fiddling with her fingers nervously.

Quinn casts a gaze over her best friend, her happy attitude has dissipated and she looks like she's reliving the painful memory. Sophie doesn't hold grudges, if she did, Quinn knows full well that they wouldn't still be friends but right now, it looks as if she's is trying to remember why it is she doesn't hold grudges.

"How many pancakes do you want?" Quinn asks, trying to dissolve the tension which is floating in the air between them.

"Three." Quinn raises her eyebrows. "What? I'm hungry."

"Evidently. Can you pass me the chocolate chips please?" Quinn asks. "They're in the fridge like you didn't already know."

Sophie jumps off the countertop and opens the fridge door, grabbing the packet of chocolate chips and handing them to Quinn. "I am going to introduce you to her Q."

"Okay," Quinn nods, folding the chocolate chips into her batter before pouring some of her mixture into a frying pan and placing it on the stove. "I'm just curious to finally meet the girl who makes you swoon like a love-sick teenager,

"I do not swoon."

Quinn chuckles as she swirls the mixture around. "It's not a bad thing, at least not for you," she says. "As long as you're happy then so am I."

"When did you get so soppy?"

Quinn flicks some flour from the bag in her friend's direction. "Shut up."

"That girl really did a number on you last night didn't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Sophie hops back onto the countertop. "So, tell me about her, what's her name, what does she look like, what was she like as a person?"

"You know the first question Santana always asks me is what they were like in bed, most people would but you ask about what she was like as a person?"

"I'm an old romantic; you know I'm not like you. I don't treat women as conquests," Sohpie replies playfully. "Besides she must have been pretty special since she seems to have affected you substantially."

"You need to stop thinking she's had an effect on me when she hasn't," Quinn lies, flipping the pancake effectively. She keeps her gaze fixated on the frying pan whilst feeling Sophie's gaze upon her, studying her.

"Okay if you say so," Sophie concedes, grazing at the chocolate chips still in the packet. "But you never answered my questions so spill."

"Her name is Elle," says the blonde, trying surprisingly hard to stop the corner of her lips from curling upwards. "She was brunette, quite short and a mixture of cute, sexy and gorgeous. She didn't seem interested in me at first but you know me, I love a challenge so I persisted and eventually she succumbed."

"If Santana could see you now. You had this dopey eyed expression when you were talking about her." Sophie laughs heartily as her best friend glares at her. "I haven't seen you like this in a while."

"She was just a one night stand Soph, one of many" Quinn states, flipping the pancake onto a plate before pouring more batter into the frying pan. "It's not like I'm going to see her again, we didn't exactly find a chance to exchange information."

"You never know, you might meet her again. You know what they say, if it's meant to be, it will be."

Quinn pushes the plate towards her friend. "You're such an optimist."

"I just want to see you happy; I think a relationship would be good for you."

Quinn shakes her head and swirls the batter around. She stares at the other woman out of the corner of her eye as she devours her pancake with a smile.

"So Quinn," Sophie says through a mouthful of pancake.

"Oh Sophie, now I know your mom taught you it's rude to speak with your mouth full."

Sophie sends her a short glare before she swallows her mouthful of food. "How was she in bed?"


She glances at her reflection in her bathroom mirror; cursing herself for letting last night happened. She'd said she wasn't going to sleep with her time and time again yet it still happened.

She still slept with Quinn.

She's tempted to blame the alcohol but all that did was make her more confident, confident enough to flirt with Quinn, to kiss her.

She can't even blame the other woman. Quinn had asked her several times if she was sure, if she wanted to stop. Hell at one point, Quinn had backed off, wanting her to be completely sure that this was what she wanted.

And she had said it was okay, it was what she wanted.

Because at the time it had been.

Unfortunately, the blame for this falls directly onto her.

She had a girlfriend but she had willingly had sex with somebody else last night and what's worse, she had enjoyed it.

That nugget of information didn't stop the guilt from circling in the pit of her stomach though. Nor does it stop her feeling sick every time she thinks about what she's done.

That's not who is she.

She isn't a cheater.

Or at least, she never thought she was.

She fingers the bruise on her breast, cursing Quinn for leaving a mark on her. At least this time, she can blame the blonde for something. She's grateful that it's not on her neck; at least she can hide this from her girlfriend until it fades.

She'll just have to think of a way to deter her girlfriend.

Although that shouldn't be too hard, she's not even sure how she'll look her girlfriend in the eye after cheating on her.

Her eyes close as a rush of nausea floods through her and she rests her hand against her forehead in an attempt to soothe the pounding in her head. It feels like somebody is using a pneumatic drill against her skull.

This is just one of the reasons she doesn't normally drink.

One last look in the reflection and she still can't believe what she's done.

It shocks her however that whilst she feels tremendously guilty for cheating on her girlfriend, she surprisingly feels guilty about giving Quinn a false name.

She hadn't meant to.

But when Quinn had introduced herself, Rachel found the alias Elle falling from her lips before she could stop herself and then it was too late to take it back.

"Rachel? Have you seen my hippo broach?" Kurt's voice flows through her apartment and Rachel picks up her sweater from the edge of the bath and shrugs it on, covering the mark left by Quinn. "Rachel?"

She walks out of her en-suite bathroom and traipses through her bedroom towards the noise Kurt is making in their living room. She knows full well that the living room will be a mess when she walks in.

Why it would even be in the living room she has no idea?

"Have you searched your bedroom properly?"

Kurt raises her head and stares at her. "Of course I've searched my bedroom properly, it's not there."

Rachel takes a seat of the arm of their couch and crosses her arms. "Can you not wear something else?"

He doesn't even need to answer because the look he gives her is a good enough answer. Ever since he first wore the hippo broach to his interview for an internship at Vogue, he claims it's his good luck charm and now he wears it or at least has it with him every time he sits in on an important meeting or has to give a presentation.

"Maybe you left it at Blaine's?" She suggests and that gets Kurt's attention.

"You're right, I had it when I led the presentation last week and then Blaine and I went out to celebrate. I must have left it at his apartment," Kurt states, retracing her movements that night silently in his head before nodding as he realises that is definitely what he has done. "Now I'm going to have to go to his apartment and it's going to make me late for work."

"I'm sure you'll be fine without the broach Kurt," she replies. "The whole good luck charm is just in your mind. You want to believe that it's good luck, so if something lucky happens whilst wearing it, you'll assume that it's because of the broach when really it's just a coincidence."

"You do know I'm still going to get the broach."

"I know," she says. "I just wanted to get my opinion across."

"Well your opinion has been noted," Kurt states, grabbing his jacket and shrugging it on. He gives her a small wave as he opens the front door. "See you tonight Rach," he says as he closes the door behind him before Rachel has a chance to say her goodbye.

She walks back into her bedroom and throws herself onto her bed, burying her head in the pillow. She has to be at rehearsals in two hours so that's two hours of wallowing in self-pity and feeling guilty about what she's done.

Her phone vibrates against her bedside table and Rachel has lost count of how many times her phone has vibrated today, either signalling a text or an incoming phone call. Her girlfriend has been trying to get in touch with her for most of the day yet she hasn't been able to bring herself to answer her because that will just make her feel guiltier and undeniably her girlfriend will know something is wrong.

She never has been a very good liar.

She had snapped at her girlfriend last night and it was that amongst other things, that had prompted her to go to the bar. Her phone stops vibrating for several seconds before a shorter vibration comes through, this time signalling a text.

Her hand reaches out aimlessly in an attempt to grab her phone and with one touch; she hears it fall to the ground. Sighing into the pillow she raises her head and bends over the side of her bed to pick it up off the floor. Opening up the new message a fresh wave of guilt hits her as she reads the message. She closes it and opens some of the earlier text messages. The phrases 'I'm sorry', 'are you okay', 'please don't ignore me', 'I love you' jumped out at her as she read through the messages.

She quickly types the words 'I love you too' back to her, praying that when her girlfriend gets it, she'll accept the reply and won't try to ring her. Looking at the screen the words blur and Rachel feels as though she's lying to both herself and her girlfriend, like the confession of love is given out of guilt rather than truth.

But that's not true.

She really does love her but you're not supposed to hurt the people you love and although she's not hurt her yet, if the truth ever came out, Rachel knows how much it would break her heart.

She hits send and then recoils from the phone as if she'd been burned by the button.

Last night had undoubtedly created one big web of lies that she is now forced to live in. She lied to Quinn, she's lying to her girlfriend and in order to stop the web from falling apart, she'll start lying to her friends.

As she lets her head fall lazily back into the comfort of her pillow, her phone vibrates once more and it's at that moment that she knows the web is just going to get larger and more complicated as time goes on.