Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.
A/N: It's finally getting somewhere, I think. I liked writing this one, though I nearly hit a wall several times. Anyway, here you guys go, and please review!
A week had passed since Rachel and Quinn's shared moment in the back of the cafeteria. Needless to say, it was all the girls had been able to focus on; no matter how hard they tried to suppress their strong feelings towards one another. Still, Quinn was hesitant in taking it to the next step: dating. She was well aware that it would make her mother squirm uncomfortably at the mere mention of Rachel if they went to that level. And, honestly, Quinn would rather have a mother who wasn't utterly grossed out by the idea of her girlfriend. That is, if I have one, she told herself in slight regret. She figured the Glee kids would mostly be supportive, since Kurt was gay and everything, but she knew Santana wouldn't let her live it down. She was as much a bully as Quinn had ever been, except that Santana hadn't stopped and seen the wrong in what they did. The blonde Cheerio still had to listen each day as her friends insulted Rachel, lacking the guts to stand up to them. She made her little protests, however, without letting on too much. For, as badly as Quinn wanted to pour her heart out to Rachel and stand by her day and night, she was just not ready to make that commitment. She needed her adjustment period, even if Rachel was horribly impatient about it.
Rachel, on the other hand, had gotten up the nerve to call Quinn only once since their kiss. It was a nice call, and they talked about the little things like school, family, and homework. Neither had much drama revolving around them, outside of their minuscule romance, which was drama that both were hesitant to speak about. They felt more open and willing at school to do whatever they pleased when it was just them, but each girl was going through new emotions and yearnings, and talking about it wasn't the best option. But, then again…
Rachel picked up her pink, Bedazzled cell phone and pulled up Quinn's number from her contact list. She had yet to get a photo for her spot in the contacts list. Gathering her courage, she hit the "Call" option and hung up as soon as the dialing had started, for what felt like the 900th time that night. She pushed her hair out of her face and tried again. This time, she lasted until she heard Quinn answer it.
"Quinn Fabray," she spoke, irritation spewing out of her tone that was fairly drawn out, even for Quinn.
"Q-Quinn?" Rachel was cautious in how she approached the obviously upset cheerleader.
"Rachel? Rachel! Oh, hey! Sorry, I didn't check who was calling. I've been getting so many solicitors lately that I totally forgot that actual people with actual names that I cared to remember might call. So, what's up?" Quinn flopped onto her bed, and began to flip through a magazine.
Rachel didn't realize, until Quinn explained, that she was expecting to be hung up on, like what would have happened anytime before these last few weeks. "I… I'm glad to know that—Well, that is, not that so many marketers are pestering you endlessly, but…" she trailed off, not sure what she was getting at.
Quinn laughed on the other end of the phone, much to Rachel's relief. "It's okay, chill out, Rachel. Breathe."
She did, and she let out a heavy, frustrated breath she hadn't known she'd been holding in. "I'm sorry, Quinn."
"For what?" she asked easily as she turned the pages of the magazine, pretending something other than Rachel Berry could hold her interest for some amount of time. But, really, the attempt was futile and the thought ridiculously laughable. She faked it, anyway, as if someone cared that she kept reading it.
"For, well, you know," Rachel said, her voice but a whisper by the end, hinting at something they both knew quite well.
"Rachel," Quinn groaned. She threw the magazine onto the floor in exasperation. Not the dating issue again. "Look, Rachel, I accept your apology, but that doesn't mean we're ready to," the blonde looked towards her door to make sure it was securely closed, with no chance of her being heard, "date."
"Date? Quinn, I'll have you know that's not at all what I referring to. I am fully aware of your standpoint on our relationship, and have decided to push it no further. Or, at least, not right now. I was talking about last week. When we…"
"Kissed? If you're gonna say it, then say it."
"Yes. When we kissed."
"Well, I don't see why you're sorry." Quinn stared at her ceiling like it was supposed to be the most interesting artifact known to man. Distracting herself wasn't as easy as she thought it would be. Not with an adorable brunette on the other end of her phone, anyway. It's better than having this conversation in person, she decided.
"You don't think it was wrong to do it? Or… Or hated me for it? I-I wasn't bad, was I? I don't have much experience at excelling in a romantic situation, you see. I tend to make the other person run away or desert me when I try. Or, somehow, everything doesn't work out like it should. And, lately, I've been wondering if it was becau—"
"Rachel," Quinn interrupted, finally getting her to shut up after the fifth time Quinn had called her name.
"Y-Yes?"
"You talk too much."
"I know," Rachel sighed. One of her many problems.
"Listen. You were fine. Well, great. Okay, it was damn fantastic, but whichever… wording you like best, be satisfied with it because you really should stop worrying about these things."
Rachel grinned, glad, for once, that Quinn couldn't see it. Because, though her smile was an admittedly radiant one, her face was also flushed beyond comfort. "R-Really? Then why—"
I don't know," Quinn muttered. "I'm not some hormonal teenage boy, Rach. I wouldn't know why they dumped you. Besides, it's their loss, I say."
"Well, Quinn, while you're right that you most definitely are not of the male gender, you are a teenager, and you are arguably hormonal, and you can't blame it on being pregnant anymore."
Quinn giggled lightly, but she hoped the brunette didn't pick up on it. Which, of course, she did, but that was beside the point. "What can I say? I'm crazy for you, Berry," she teased, playing with the girl's last name in a kinder tone than Rachel was used to hearing it said.
"Thanks, Quinn." Rachel moved from sitting on her bed to laying down, cradling the phone against her ear. "I sincerely mean it. You mean a lot to me, and, even if you aren't ready to make our more affectionate relationship known to anyone yet, I don't want to lose you as a friend. I hope you know and understand this."
"You couldn't make it clearer if it was on a neon sign. And, honestly, you're welcome, though I regret being so mean to you before. Clearly, you forgave me, I know, but that doesn't change my guilt, you know?"
Rachel nodded, knowing Quinn tended to end her sentences in the form of questions, tacking "you know?" onto the end of whatever she'd said. It seemed that when it came to their friendship, Quinn truly did need the assurance, and it wasn't just a habit of speech anymore. "Yes, but I know you're through acting that way, and I need you. A lot. More than I'd ever thought possible…"
"Slow down, Rachel," Quinn commented. "Don't dive into the shallow end of the pool, okay? Neither of us are totally up to that, and we'll both end up breaking ourselves if we try to do anything more. You know that."
"Yes. I do."
"Okay, then," Quinn breathed easily. She stopped picking at the sheet on her bed long enough to return her magazine to its former place and resume reading where she'd left off. The hard part was over now, since Rachel's feelings were always the most difficult to discuss and sort out. Now that it was finished and mended well enough, they feel into small talk as they had during their last phone call.
Rachel ended their current phone call with a disappointed expression. Quinn had to go to dinner, and, as petty and absurd it was, it upset Rachel to have to let her go. She felt like the blonde shouldn't have had to leave and was supposed to stay on the phone with her into the wee morning hours and undoubtedly run up both their phone bills.
The next day, lunch rolled around and Rachel was sitting outside on the steps, eating her lunch from her lunchbag. Nowadays, she found it made her queasy to eat in the same room as the area her and Quinn had wrongfully violated. Quinn didn't think of it that way at all and hardly noticed that the two were one in the same, but she knew how it troubled Rachel. Moments later, Quinn appeared empty-handed in the doorway, proceeding to sit extra close to the brunette already seated on the cement. She had already eaten and Rachel could tell, since she wasn't eyeing the food she ate like usually. Lunches from home really were much tastier than school food.
Quinn slipped an arm around Rachel's waist and leaned her head against the other girl's, smiling contently. There was a warm breeze gently blowing, but Rachel knew the tingling sensation that was flooding through her wasn't initiated by a silly old guest of wind. It was the way Quinn touched her and held her, the entire encounter joyful in itself. She loved having Quinn around, whether or not they were openly feeling anything for each other. It still proved a problem, combining hidden emotions with the stress of school, but they held themselves together fairly well.
"Having fun out here by yourself?"
"No," Rachel sighed. "I don't feel like I can be anywhere else though," she mumbled, leaning against Quinn for her support.
Quinn rubbed Rachel's side tenderly, letting her know everything was perfectly fine. "Well, good, because it doesn't matter now, now does it?"
"No, I suppose not."
"Rach, if you never go in there again you're going to have a hard time doing it when it becomes important to. Over half the kids in there don't even notice you're gone." Wow, way to boost her confidence, Quinn thought angrily to herself. "I mean, well, just try soon, okay? You can't avoid your friends in there because then you'll only see them and Glee, which may not last forever."
Rachel saw the truth in the matter of Glee; they didn't have an inkling as to when it would end. They were taking each moment of its continuance in stride, so to speak.
"You want a bite?"
Quinn glanced down, out of her own thoughts, to see Rachel offering her a spoonful of pudding. It wasn't often Rachel ate sugary treats with her lunch, unless she was down. And little did Quinn know she had a couple cookies stuffed away in her bag, too. She was struggling with the "connecting with other people" thing when she knew she had to resist temptation and give people space. All of which she wasn't used to in the slightest. Sure, once in a while Rachel would have a fit at Finn, due to his "Mailman" problem and the fact that Rachel had unquenched desires that she had made prominent during a celibacy meeting, but never had she fought and urges like Puck and Finn did. Now she knew how flustered having a relationship was when she wasn't in control of the decisions.
"Sure," Quinn finally managed. She felt pitiful for making Rachel the way she was now, but she cared for the girl more than anyone else. She leaned down and ate the pudding, licking the rest of it off the corners of her mouth.
Rachel smiled up at her and dipped the spoon back into the cup for another bite, this time taking it herself. She swallowed hard and felt quite odd, like someone was watching her. Someone other than Quinn. She hurriedly looked around and didn't notice when Quinn followed suit. The two peered around the parking lot furiously, knowing anyone could hide behind a car and stay hidden.
"I'll kill 'em," Quinn growled.
"Who?"
"I-… I don't know, whoever the heck is staring at us," she shot back.
"Quinn, let it go." Rachel quickly packed things messily away into her lunchbag and grabbed it. "Come on, don't give them the satisfaction." She stood and tried to grasp Quinn's hand and tug her with.
"Bastards," she hissed as she let herself obediently follow her friend back into the hallways of McKinley High, their hands tightly woven. Quinn could feel herself calming down measurably, just from Rachel's comforting touch.
"Why would someone do that?"
"Because there are stupid people who find sick pleasure out of watching others being intimate."
"That was intimate?" Rachel hadn't known.
"Yes. Er, no. I'm not sure, but it irked me either way."
Rachel led them to their lockers and she stood at Quinn's patiently as the blonde gathered her things irritably.
"Do you think the person was spying on us for some reason?"
Quinn shrugged as she put on her lip gloss. Twisting the cap back into place, she faced Rachel. "That's my best guess. Maybe not spying, but definitely watching us. It's freaking creepy. Come one." She shut her locker and dragged the brunette with her towards the auditorium.
"Do you think it was Finn? Maybe he did it to see what I was doing talking to someone like you…"
"I doubt it. He's too dumb to think about even checking on you; since you've made it clear you need your space sometimes."
"I suppose that's true. Do you think we might have imagined it?"
"No, Rachel. I just know someone was there, okay? And I have a sneaking suspicion as to who exactly it was.
"Who?"
"I'd rather not say," Quinn answered, pursing her lips.
A fuming Santana Lopez watched in disgust as Quinn and Rachel walked down the hallway hand in hand. She whipped around to Puck, slapping him on the arm with blunt force.
"You idiot," she practically screeched. "You just had to blow our cover, didn't you? Now they think something's up."
Puck shrugged, rubbing his arm a bit from the sting. "Whatever. We'll do it better next time. It's not like Rachel's got a clue."
"But Quinn does. She's not as stupid as you are, Puckerman."
"What's got your panties in a bunch? If you're wearing any, that is. Besides, I don't see why this is so important to you. If they've got somethin' going on, who cares? It's hot."
Santana rolled her eyes and punched his arm this time. "She's not going to last long once we get the dirt, so knock it off." She began to walk away when Puck caught up to her.
"Wait, Rachel, or Quinn? 'Cause, you know, Quinn's my baby mama, and, well, Rachel's a fellow Jew. That's not really cool to do to them."
"Quinn. Rachel. Both. I don't care. Screw them for all their worth."
"That's no use. Trust me, I've tried."
"Get your ass up here, Puckerman. We're gonna go talk to Kurt and Mercedes."
"What's the point in that?"
"Hello, they're pretty much Glee Club's own 'Gossip Central.' If you want to know something about anyone in Glee, you go to them. I swear, you make me wonder if there really is anything useful going on in that pea brain of yours."