Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.

A/N: Guys, I can't even describe how happy I am with your amazing feedback! Thank you so much, I'm really glad you're enjoying the story!

So, as promised, this chapter has a lot of Faberry interaction. Get ready for sweet times!

A special thank you to my Beta harleysantana23 and WildLilFlower for making three amazing drawings based on this fic!

Have a nice reading!


Chapter Three

Acquaintances

More than once, she had tried to imagine how a lifeless doll could be so gracious. Sure, there was a bunch of magnetic mechanisms carefully hidden behind the tiny music box that made it be, but that didn't change the fact that the porcelain ballerina was incandescently mesmerizing.

The swirling dancer was everything Rachel craved to be.

Free with her movements while she shined on her own stage.

She was irrationally jealous of an object and she wasn't even sorry.

Sorrowful chocolate eyes followed the music box's movements.

Right. Center. Left. Left. Right. Bow.

Rachel unconsciously began humming Tchaikovsky's Op.20 - she had always masochistically loved Swan Lake more than anything, because it was, and probably, always would be, the story of her life: trapped, silenced, restricted -, then she started brushing the soft waves of her silky chestnut hair above the dim light of the bedroom. If she closed her eyes and pretended hard enough, she could practically feel the stunning vibrancy of a true stage lying behind the music notes.

But then Finn Hudson unceremoniously opened the door and crashed her dreams once more.

"Finn, you should have knocked first. I'm indisposed." Rachel said. She quickly tied the knot of her robe and tried not to notice Finn's lustful eyes upon her body.

"I apologize." He said not sounding sorry at all. He took four steps forward and sat on Rachel's dressing table. "I just wanted to give you something before I went to sleep."

"You don't have to give me anything, Finn. I-" His answer to her pleas came in the form of a velvet box. Rachel gasped and shook her head no. She couldn't, wouldn't accept another gift that would only serve to mark her as his property. "I don't-"

"I intended to save this until our engagement party." He rudely cut her off. "But I thought tonight would be appropriate." His long fingers opened the box to reveal a blue diamond necklace.

Rachel didn't need to be a specialist in jewelry to conclude that the necklace in the front of her must have cost a fortune. She wasn't pleased and that annoyed the hell out of Finn, who wasn't quite ready to give up on his arrogant mannerisms.

"This necklace was used by Louis XVI." Finn practically recited like a seven-year-old-school boy. "It's called the Heart of the Ocean."

Rachel frowned when Finn put it around her neck. It was heavy.

As if she needed more weight to carry over her shoulders...

"It's a bit overwhelming." Rachel complained.

Finn shrugged. "It was made for royalty."

Rachel winced when he brought his face closer to hers. Her nostrils were invaded by the faint smell of Scotch coming from his erratic breath and she felt like screaming. "There's nothing I'd deny you, Rachel. There's nothing I wouldn't give you." Finn breathed out as he sneaked his hands dangerously close to her chest. "If only you wouldn't reject me..."

Rachel let out a strangled munch of air and pushed his hands away from her. She got up and scooted as far away as she could from him.

"You're disrespecting me, Finn." She said. "I'm not that kind of girl. Now, if you don't want to face a scandal, I suggest you leave my room. Now." She demanded with the firmest voice she could manage. Finn recoiled a bit.

"Fine." He grumbled. "I'll leave. But remember: in less than a month, you'll be mine."

And he was gone, leaving a shaky Rachel behind.

She didn't cry that night. The brunette decided she had had enough stress for the day. God, she had nearly died just a few hours before, if it hadn't been for one Quinn Fabray.

And then there was a smile, at the mere mention of the blonde's name. Her eyes fluttered closed and the butterflies were set free on her stomach. The thump, thump, thump of her heart composed a beautiful irregular song that brought a strange sense of joy to her ears.

Her brain was filled with images of sweetness and adorable lousy dresses.

Rachel dreamed of greenish hazel eyes that night and when the morning came, she asked her personal maid to deliver Quinn a note (to thank you properly, she had written).

She was pleasantly surprised to find out that she was actually genuinely happy for a change.

Apparently, Quinn Fabray had the gift to save her life in every way possible.

Rachel surely wasn't complaining.

~;~

They knew that at least a dozen pair of eyes was focused on them.

Judging.

Fuming.

Scrutinizing.

But the more they got to know each other, the less Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry paid any attention to the antagonizing glances being shot at their direction. Rachel in particular, was in awe about all the adventures the blonde girl had lived. She immediately wanted to unravel all of Quinn's secrets.

Not that the artist wanted to hide them, anyway.

"I've lived like a leaf blown in the wind since I was 16 years old." Quinn told her with a cute smile playing on her lips. "My parents came from a very wealthy family, so it was difficult for them to deal with my lifestyle. When I told them I wanted to be an artist and be free to live on my own, they disowned me."

Rachel yelped and Quinn giggled. "Don't be sorry, I was pretty okay with it." The blonde confessed. "I got to meet so many interesting people and do so many things."

The brunette smiled and nodded. True to be told, she really admired Quinn's courage to live as she pleased. It made her want to get even closer to the beautiful blonde just to feel a little bit of the freedom that irradiated from her.

"So, Miss Berry," Quinn sing sang as she playfully bumped into Rachel. The action made the brunette giggle like a school girl. "We've walked around a mile on this deck. You know everything about my childhood, but I guess that's not why you came to me, right?"

Rachel nodded and sighed. "Miss Fabray, I…"

"Quinn." The artist gently interjected as she offered Rachel a charming smirk. It was infectious and Rachel found herself smiling right back at her.

"Quinn…" The brunette let the name slip from her lips at ease and immediately loved the sound of it. "I'd like to thank you for what you did. Not only for saving my life, but also for your discretion."

"No problem, Rachel." Quinn replied. Rachel blushed. Never before had her name been muttered so reverently.

"I know what you must be thinking: 'Poor little rich girl. What does she know about misery?'" Rachel dejectedly recited. Quinn raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"No, I didn't think that at all." The artist denied rather vehemently. "Actually, I was thinking: 'What must have happened to this beautiful girl to make her think she has no way out?'"

Hazel orbs observed as silky cheeks changed from tan to pale red. Quinn took it as a sign to keep going: "You were a mesmerizing puzzle to me since the very first time I saw you. I wanted to – no, scratch that –, I still want to make those expressive eyes smile to me." Quinn said in a whisper.

For Rachel, those words sounded like a lullaby – one that was only meant to her ears.

That feeling alone made her want to open up to the beautiful angel in the front of her.

Screw the consequences.

Quinn noticed Rachel's anxious behavior and ever so chivalrously, took hold of Rachel's right hand and carefully guided her towards the nearest balustrade.

The sparkle of their skins was still there, joyfully dancing between their curious joined fingers.

"It's just…" Rachel trailed off trying very hard not to have a break down. "Everything is so wrong in my life. My fate is messed up by the people who want to control me." Rachel swallowed a lump and showed Quinn the overwhelming diamond on her right hand. "Five hundred people are watching my every move with critical eyes. I want to scream, but they… They won't listen to me, Quinn."

The blonde's heart broke at the sight of her muse's distressed appearance. She clenched her jaw and took a deep breath to calm her nerves. She had never felt that way before. It was something feral, something primal: she wanted to lunge at whoever had hurt Rachel.

She wanted to be Rachel's knight in shining armor and protect her from the world.

She wanted to kiss her.

She wanted to love her.

She wanted to fly away with her.

"Do you love him?" Quinn impulsively asked. Rachel stared at her with confused doe eyes.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Do you love him?" Quinn repeated hoping; praying for the answer to be no. Rachel let out a nervous laugh.

"This is absurd!"

Quinn merely shrugged. "It's a simple question: do you love the guy or not?"

That topic came out so suddenly, that Rachel couldn't help but let a genuine laugh bubble out from her throat. Quinn joined her and the brunette tried not to think how melodious their giggles sounded together.

"This is really absurd!" Rachel all but screeched. "You shouldn't be asking me that. This is highly inappropriate! You don't know me, I don't know you and we are not having this conversation!" Rachel rumbled. It surprised her that she was doing it. It was a habit she was forced to abandon when she started her compromise with Finn. But she felt so free with Quinn that her old self was naturally coming back to life.

It was exhilarating and she couldn't stop smiling.

"You are rude and presumptuous." Rachel told Quinn in a know-it-all tone. The artist smirked and took it as a compliment, seeing as Rachel was still shooting her a radiant smile.

"Why, thank you!" Quinn mocked. Rachel scoffed and shook Quinn's hand.

"Quinn, Miss Fabray, I have already thanked you and…"

"… and insulted me." The blonde completed as she continued to shake Rachel's hand in a playful manner.

"Well, you deserved it." The smaller girl pointed out.

"Right." Quinn agreed. "I thought you were leaving." She joked as she motioned at their still shaking hands. Rachel snickered.

"I am." The brunette let go of Quinn's warm hand and stormed out like a true diva. But the fuzzy feeling that was running through her heart was pulling her back towards the taller girl. She just couldn't leave. Not really.

"You're so annoying!" She stated as she turned around rather dramatically. "And wait a minute… This is my part of the ship! You have to leave!"

Quinn laughed. "Whoa! Who is being rude now?"

Rachel huffed and took in Quinn's adorable appearance: blue dress, rather manly boots, pretty golden hair, pearly white teeth, strong, yet, delicate jaw and bright golden eyes, that morphed to green whenever the sun sparkled upon her.

She was gracefully standing in the front of Rachel just waiting for the answer of her purposefully rhetorical question. Her fingers were drumming a notepad she was holding.

"What is this thing you carry around?" Rachel asked as she unceremoniously caught Quinn's moleskin. The brunette opened a random page and let her jaw drop in awe as she stared at the pieces of art in the front of her.

She sat down at a classy chair and distractedly felt Quinn doing the same beside her.

"They're good." Rachel commented eyeing a portrait of Kurt and Blaine Quinn had painted the day before. Their love for each other was perfectly tangible in the piece of paper. "They're really good, actually."

"Thank you." Quinn murmured as she wistfully watched Rachel's smiling face

"Why didn't you tell me you were an artist?" Rachel questioned as she admired the pictures.

There were happy families, monuments, old couples and…

"Well, well, well." Rachel teased with a hint of jealousy when she bypassed a very vivid portrait of a naked woman.

Quinn's cheeks colored.

"Uh…" The girl incoherently answered.

"You liked this woman. You've drawn her many times." Rachel bitterly commented. She didn't know where that fierce feeling was coming from. But the mere thought of Quinn's attentive and caring eyes being directed to another girl – a naked girl, for crying out loud! – made her stomach twist and her heart furiously race against her ribcage.

"Well, she had beautiful hands." Quinn said while showing the brunette a drawing of the model's hands. "See?"

"Oh." Rachel muttered still not convinced about Quinn's innocence. She wanted so badly to ask the artist about her past lovers, but she feared she would upset the girl with rushed conclusions. Sure, Quinn seemed open minded, but still, they lived in 1912. Being free to love whoever you wanted was a dangerous path, so you simply didn't go screaming about it to whoever could hear you.

"I didn't kiss her or anything." Quinn answered Rachel's silent musings. "She was a one leg prostitute, you see." Quinn confided with an amused chuckle.

Rachel giggled and waited, but rather impatiently for the blonde to reveal her unsaid statement.

And so she did: "And in case you're wondering… I like women." Quinn courageously confessed. Her hands were shaking and her body was tense, but her voice never faltered. She reached out and held the cross that was hanging on her neck, as if praying for Rachel's acceptance. She still trusted God. No matter what her father said about Him not loving what he called her sinful life style; she just knew He would always be there for her.

"Are you… Do I… Hm…" Quinn stuttered as she worriedly stared at Rachel's stoned face. "I can leave if I'm making you uncomfortable." Quinn whispered dejectedly.

Rachel woke up from her stupor when she felt Quinn get up to leave.

"No, please, don't go." She rushed out grabbing Quinn's wrist. "It's okay. Stay here with me."

"Are you sure?" Quinn asked. Rachel nodded and smiled.

"Yes, I'm very sure. It's alright."

And it was.

It was alright because Rachel was thirteen years old when she had shared a peck with her childhood friend Emily Bingley. She had enjoyed the kiss and felt at home in the shy embrace, but then Shelby stormed into her room and made her vow to never see the girl again and to never, ever mention that occurrence to anyone.

Her attraction to girls had been carefully hidden from the society.

But now Quinn Fabray happened and she knew her disguise wouldn't be effective for too long.

"Good. That's good." Quinn said clearly relieved. Rachel squeezed Quinn's hand as if to say "thank you for telling me and don't worry" and turned her attention back to the girl's artistic skills.

"Let me show you a special drawing." The blonde said. She flipped the moleskin's pages until she stopped at an old lady's sketch. "This woman used to sit in the same bar every night, wearing every piece of jewelry she owned waiting for her long lost love. We called her Madam Bijoux. Her clothes were pretty worn out, see?" Quinn said pointing at the detail on the drawing.

Rachel chose to look at the young woman beside her instead.

"You have a gift, Quinn." She affirmed. "You do. You see people."

Quinn smiled and bit her lip. "I see you."

Rachel giggled. "And…?" She trailed off, jokingly seeking for a complement. Quinn stared at her longingly.

"You wouldn't have jumped."

Rachel blushed and looked down at her hands. The intensity of Quinn's eyes upon her was too much to handle with at times. She feared that if she kept their connection she wouldn't be able to control her desires for so long.

She chose the easiest – but not the most craved – option: distract Quinn.

"Y-you told me you're traveling along with a friend, right?" Rachel mumbled out with fluttering eyelashes and a chuckle. "Tell me more about her. How did you two meet?"

"Her name is Santana." Quinn said while getting up and offering a hand to Rachel. The brunette accepted the blonde's silent invitation to keep walking around the ship. "She was born in Spain, but her family moved to England when she was only three years old. I met her two years ago when I was in a great need of help."

Rachel lifted a curious eyebrow.

"What happened?"

"Well, I was working in a port when…"

"Wait." Rachel cut her off clearly amused. "How did you convince them to let you work at a port? I mean, they don't let girls carry heavy things, do they?"

Quinn smirked. "Of course not. That's why I dressed up like a boy. Anyway, I got cut from a rusty piece of machinery and then got a pretty high fever."

"Oh my God, Quinn!" Rachel said in horror. Quinn nodded and carried on: "I was mostly delirious, so I just keep wandering around the street when I ungraciously haltered against Santana. She wasn't amused at first, but then she noticed my appearance and took me to her mama's house. They took care of me, but not without Santana scoffing at me for being immature enough to dress like a boy."

Rachel sniggered. "Well, she was right."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but a few months later, when she decided to meet the whole world with me, she didn't think twice about disguising herself as a boy just so we could work at a ship. That's how we get to visit so many places."

Rachel smiled as she started to imagine Quinn wearing pants and suspenders. She was sure the artist looked charming.

"Why can't I be like you, Quinn?" Rachel sighed as she unconsciously traced a small scar upon Quinn's left temple. "Why can't I just do wherever I feel like doing?" She questioned more to herself than to the blonde.

She imagined stages and crowds and standing ovations.

She imagined freedom.

"Say we'll have an adventure together one day." Rachel excitedly beamed gaining a grin from the artist. "Even if to just talk about it."

"No, we'll go." Quinn vowed.

The sun was starting to set and its last flash of lights were creating a stunning aura above Rachel. The vision of her muse shining like a star in the front of her was making Quinn possess a courage she didn't know she had within her.

"We'll go to Santa Monica and we'll drink cheap beer, ride the roller coaster until we throw up and ride horses in the beach." Quinn said. "But we'll do it like cowboys."

Rachel laughed. "You mean with one leg on each side?"

"Yes!" Quinn confirmed.

Rachel tucked a strand of hair behind her ear rather shyly. "Will you show me how?"

"Yes. If you'd like." Quinn offered.

"What else can we do?"

"You seem like the kind of girl who enjoys classical music and operas." Quinn guessed. Rachel was delighted and looked like a five year old girl who had woken up in a bed full of presents on Christmas morning.

"Oh, I love them so much!" The brunette excitedly said. "My father used to let me attend to music lessons when I was a kid. I-I like to sing." She confessed.

"That's amazing, Rach!" Quinn said. Rachel's heart jumped when she felt that the girl was genuinely interested in her talent. "I'm sure you have a lovely singing voice."

"I… I can sing for you one day… If you want me to, that is." Rachel practically whispered as she timidly looked away at the sea.

But then Quinn, ever so affectionately, brushed her fingers against Rachel's chin and shifted her attention back at her.

"I'd love to hear you sing."

It was inevitable that their bodies would scoot closer.

Quinn's fingers kept trailing Rachel's face like they were reverently tracing a precious piece of art. Feather like touches memorized tanned cheek bones, delicate jaw and silky neck.

Rachel visibly trembled when the tip of Quinn's finger brushed the corner of her lips.

"Rachel…" Quinn whispered just as their bodies were only a few centimeters apart. "Rachel, I…"

"There you are, Rachel." A cold voice said effectively breaking their moment. Rachel jumped and took three steps away from Quinn when her mother, accompanied by three well dressed women came into view.

"Mother." The younger brunette exclaimed as she nervously played with her gloves. "May I introduce you to Quinn Fabray?"

Quinn politely nodded at the woman and allowed Rachel to narrate how she had saved her life the night before.

The three women seemed curious and even grateful to the girl who had saved Rachel's life. Mercedes Jones, especially, offered the blonde a sincere smile. Shelby, of course, didn't let go of her arrogant posture. She glanced at Quinn like she was a dangerous insect which needed to be smashed as quickly as possible.

"I am charmed to meet you, Miss Fabray." Shelby coldly said as she looked at Quinn up and down.

"Likewise." Quinn replied not recoiling a bit.

Then the dinner time was announced and the tense atmosphere slighted eased.

"Why do they need to call us to dinner like we are horses?" Mercedes ironically said. Rachel giggled.

"Well, we need to go change now. See you at dinner, Quinn?" She expectantly asked.

"Sure. Count me in." The blonde said. Shelby sighed in annoyance and roughly guided Rachel towards their personal suit.

Quinn was so distracted watching her muse leave that she didn't even notice that one of the first class women were still there, trying to call her attention.

"Hello, are you there?" Mercedes jokingly said as she waved a hand in the front of Quinn's eyes.

"Yes, sorry." The artist chuckled.

"Do you have any idea of what you're doing?" Mercedes asked in concern. Quinn merely shrugged.

"Not really."

The shorter woman sighed. "You're about to go into a snake pitch." She confided. "What are you planning to wear?"

When Quinn helplessly pointed at her simple dress, Mercedes couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"Oh, no…" She mumbled as she motioned for Quinn to follow her inside the ship. "Come with me. There's a perfect dress just waiting for you in my suite."


A/N2: First class party on the next chapter, guys! Get ready for some tension! Now please, review and let me know what you think of this fic so far!