Disclaimer: I own nothing :c
Also…apologies for my ridiculously long hiatus. But Happy Holidays!
Frustration
It's the emotion that most closely resembles a volcano. Not the explosion—no, that's anger, lust or violence. That's the reaction.
But it's the bubbling inside, the buildup of thermal heat and tons of metric pressure, the result of too much steam and hot gasses. It's the little things. They don't cause changes—at least, none you can see until it's far too late—but the things that rest in a dormant state until finally, something ignites.
Make no mistake, frustration is nothing to underestimate. Because once it catches fire, there's no stopping it.
"I've really got to cut back on my alcohol consumption," Quinn grumbled, tugging the cap lower on her head and throwing the hood over it in an attempt to block out light. She sank further into the ferry seat, peeking out at the brunette, who was in a similar position. "God, you must think I'm an alcoholic."
Rachel shook her head lightly. "You shouldn't have let me drive. I'm pretty sure I'm still drunk."
"You were fine," Quinn assured her, shivering at the memory. She'd had to sit even closer than usual, with a tighter hold, because her balance had still been heavily impaired and she'd been terrified of falling off. The warmth between them had felt like a fire, but despite the burning, she had to admit she missed it.
"Well, we made it, so either way, I guess we're okay," the brunette said, shrugging. "Although, I'm quite happy we got the slower ferry this morning. Usually it's a pain to ride out, but now I can take a nap and hopefully sleep a bit more of it off."
Quinn chuckled. "Yeah, any idea what time we fell asleep?"
"The last time I remember seeing a clock was…2:55 am, so who knows." She burrowed into the seat, closing her eyes against the sun and letting its warmth soak into her black shirt.
"Rachel?"
She didn't bother opening her heavy eyelids, but quirked a brow in response. "Mm?"
"Thanks for coming along," the blonde said, softly.
"Well, I couldn't let you go alone," she joked. "Your little privileged ass would've gotten lost or murdered or something."
Quinn huffed. "Hey, I'm plenty capable of going places, thank you."
"Sure, sure."
The blonde rolled her eyes, gazing out the window. Soon, she heard soft puffs of air coming from the tiny woman across from her, and she couldn't help but smile at the little snores, if they could even be called that. She let her eyes stray from the waves outside to her friend, who she felt like she'd known for a while, even though it had only been a few weeks. Still, she couldn't pin down the familiarity. Instead, her gaze wandered down to lips, where even breathes escaped.
Her phone buzzed against her thigh, causing her to jump a little. She pulled it out, and sighed when her boyfriend's grinning face flashed on the screen. She inched out of the booth, answering the call when she was a few tables away, still keeping an eye on the brunette.
"Hello?"
"Quinn?" The voice sounded surprised and relieved at the same time. "Did you get any of my messages?"
The blonde bit her lip. "Sorry, I haven't had the chance to listen to them—it's been, well…you know."
"Yeah, the thing with your mom? How're you?"
She shrugged. "Better."
"Where've you been? I've been looking all over, even stopped by Rachel's to see if you'd been there."
"I'm…well, I went off the island with Rachel yesterday. You didn't have to look for me, I'm fine."
"Quinn…"
"Really, don't worry." She moved to change the subject before he could protest. "What else have you been up to? How's Britt?"
"Oh, you know her. She's bubbly. She's actually been trying to reach Rachel, so if you're with her, could you have her call Britts?"
"Of course," Quinn said, eyes snapping back over to the dozing brunette, who had slumped against the window.
"I gotta tell you something, too…"
The blonde frowned. "What?"
"Well, I got called back to L.A. for an interview. It seems legit, like it could be a break for me, Q."
"Then go."
"But I don't want to leave you, not now."
"Sam," she said, trying not to become annoyed, trying to take his affections the right way. "Don't worry, I'll be okay. I'm staying with Rach for a few days—please don't tell my parents. I just need some space. And you need this gig, so you won't be stuck in a cubicle like the rest of your family."
He was quiet, debating. "You're sure?"
"Yes, go Sam!"
"Okay," he said, hesitating, "I'll be back in a few days, for sure. But call me if anything happens, yeah? I'll catch the next flight back."
"Thanks, Sam," she said. "I'll be okay, go wow those cold-hearted record dealers!"
He chuckled. "I will. Love you!"
"Good luck," she said, "bye!"
"Bye!"
She dropped her phone to her lap, drumming her fingers against the armrest absentmindedly. It used to be so easy. His endearment and sweetness would charm her, make her feel loved. She'd even been able to repeat his I love yous back, but now. Now things were messy. He'd proposed. She'd said no. And they had only moved backwards.
Well, that wasn't completely true. He kept trying to move forward. But each step he took, she took two back, constantly dragging them into the past.
And it looked like she was back to before the I love yous. She sighed, knowing it was only a matter of time.
She should marry him. Her parents had practically set them up like two thoroughbreds.
Her gaze fell on Rachel, who had laid down on her side, curled up on the bench in the sunlight. The blonde stood and brushed invisible dust from her jeans. She slipped into their booth again, back against the window as she stretched out, closing her own eyes.
Maybe, she'd dream like Alice, and when she woke, everything would be clear.
Rachel woke with a start, knocking her head against the table with a thud. She winced, rubbing the sore spot, and grimaced as she imagined the egg it would surely turn into.
The boat had sounded its entry into the harbor, but it hadn't seemed to disturb the blonde. Quinn was still curled up in the chair, legs tucked up against her chest and arms holding them in place, head resting on the window. Rachel smiled softly at the sight. Then, catching herself, cleared her throat and took out her phone, checking the messages she'd ignored last time.
There were a bunch from Brittany, a couple from Santana, and surprisingly, a recent one from Sam.
She clicked on that one first, curious. hey Rachel, B gave me ur #. i heard ur with Q.. Im gonna be outta town, keep an eye on her 4 me?
Rachel bit down on her lip before sending a response. Of course.
She scrolled to Santana's texts next, unsurprised. Both were complaining about her job. She ignored them for the moment, moving on to Brittany's.
Did u wnt them pre-disguised
How many cams?
Did you know penguins mate 4 life? Adorbs! :)
I wanna penguin w/ Sanny
Hey r u home
O, r u & Q penguin-ing yet?
Im coming over
Theyre on ur table
Rachel's brow furrowed at the series of texts, wondering if the order had been scattered or if Brittany had actually sent them in that order. Then, as Quinn shifted in her chair slightly, her brain went into overdrive, realizing that she had no way of explaining the cameras sitting in plain sight to the blonde when they returned to the cottage.
She quickly dialed Brittany's number and waited as the rings continued with no answer.
The brunette swore under her breathe and tried again, to no avail.
The ferry engines roared, the boat going in reverse to inch its way into the dock. She watched as the dock hands caught the large ropes and secured them in place.
She'd just have to hope her partner was smart enough to put them in a package.
Quinn, feeling the jolt of the landing, let out a low huff, crinkling her nose. People began to file past them to get off, and the blonde just snuggled further into her sweatshirt.
Rachel rolled her eyes, leaning closer to her until they were inches apart. "Quinn?"
The blonde made no move.
She smirked and poked her.
Still, nothing.
She frowned. Was Quinn really this heavy a sleeper? "Quinn!"
The blonde jumped in her seat, bleary eyes bouncing around the room to find the source of the shout, and narrowed her eyes when she saw Rachel's smirk. "Rude."
"Well, you're a really heavy sleeper," the brunette rebutted, "I began with nicer tactics."
"Sure you did," Quinn grumbled, taking a moment to stretch out her cramped body before taking Rachel's offered hand and hauling herself up.
The brunette offered an elbow, smug smile firmly in place. "Shall we?"
Quinn rolled her eyes but giggled, slipping her arm into Rachel's. "Let's go, already. I need to finish up on that nap."
"Not while I'm driving!" Rachel warned, eyes widening at the thought of a drowsy Quinn slipping off her motorcycle.
"Yeah, no," Quinn said, shuddering at the thought. "When we get home."
As Quinn settled behind her on the bike, Rachel blushed at the slip up.
"What're we gonna do tonight?" Quinn asked, closing her eyes.
"Go to bed at eight," Rachel said, chuckling. The laughter caused the blonde's head to bobble.
Quinn whacked the brunette blindly. "Stop laughing."
"Stop using my stomach as a pillow," she countered.
Quinn huffed, but made no move to roll away. Rachel smiled, shaking her head.
They'd collapsed onto the brunette's floor, the TV forgotten as rest set in. The further the conversation continued, the closer they'd rolled, until Quinn had opted to just use the brunette as a cushion. Rachel was just happy the stress of hiding the cameras had melted away, leaving her relieved. Brittany had left them in a box in her bedroom, so she really had nothing to worry about in the first place.
The phone buzzed near her head, and she picked it up from the floor to read. Bonfire on da beach tonite – be there Corcoran
Rachel sighed. Santana would probably kill her if she skipped out, but she really couldn't imagine staying up past nine.
"What's wrong?"
She glanced down to see hazel eyes swirling with concern. She managed a tired smile. "Santana wants me to go to a bonfire tonight."
Quinn nodded, nibbling on her lower lip. "Well, you should go. You don't have to spend all your time with me, I'm okay."
Rachel chuckled. "It's not all about you, you know."
The blonde quirked an eyebrow, smirking. "Isn't it?"
"No, it's about me," Rachel joked. "I'm so tired I can't move."
"I see," Quinn said, tracing light circles into the arm splayed out beside her. Rachel's breath hitched, watching as she rolled a bit onto her side, eyeing the brunette. "You should go, though."
"What, are you trying to kick me out of my own house?" Rachel said, feigning offense.
Quinn laughed. "No, I'm just saying bonfires on the island are fun. They're not something you should miss out on."
"But, Quinn." She closed her eyes and hummed. "So. Tired."
"Well, what if you nap the rest of the day and then go?"
Rachel groaned. "Fine. But if I have to go, you're coming."
Quinn smiled. "You drive a hard bargain, Miss Corcoran. Deal."
The brunette ran her hand through blonde hair absentmindedly. "Good. Now, shush, so I can sleep the rest of this hangover off before I get another one."
She felt Quinn's snort against her stomach and smiled as they burrowed further together.
When they finally caught sight of the crowd, Rachel groaned.
Quinn quirked an eyebrow, bending over to remove her sandals before they trekked across the beach. "What?"
"There's so many people."
The blonde chuckled. "Well, what were you expecting?"
"This is like, everyone on the island," Rachel exclaimed, dragging out her pace to delay the inevitable.
Quinn rolled her eyes, slipping her arm into Rachel's to pull her along. "The Vineyard is bigger than this. Plus, there's only about thirty people here, give or take a few."
The brunette tugged them to a stop, giving Quinn a sweet smile. "You know, it's not too late to turn around. We could sleep more!"
"Oh, come on, Rach. Trust me, you'll enjoy it." The blonde gave her arm a light squeeze, and the brunette knew she would give in soon.
"Fine, fine," Rachel grumbled, but quickly smiled as they approached the group.
A tipsy Santana ran out from the crowd to embrace the brunette. "You made it!"
Rachel patted her back awkwardly. "I told you I'd be here."
The Latina pulled back, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, but this is past fashionably late."
"Sorry about that," Quinn piped up from behind them. "We slept through the alarm."
Santana's eyes fell on the blonde, her lips pressing together in thought. "Oh, good. Queen B made it, too."
"San," Rachel warned.
She glanced at Rachel and shrugged. "Hey, come on, I'll get you a drink."
Rachel nodded and looked back at Quinn to apologize. "I'll come find you?"
"Yeah, I think I see Brittany over there," Quinn said, nodding in a direction. She waggled her hips as she walked away, turning back to give the brunette a quick smile and wink. "We better go mingle."
Rachel stifled a chuckle, making a show of pretending not to know the quirky blonde. When she turned around, she saw Santana staring at her with a beer in each hand, eyebrow quirked and mouth ready with a quip. "So, when did you and I Love Lucy hitch your wagons?"
"Oh, what do you care, Satan," Rachel said, plucking the extra beer from her and settling down on a log by the bonfire.
As expected, the Latina sat down beside her, draining half the bottle. "Don't mistake my curiosity for me caring, Corc. I just thought it'd take longer for you to win blondie over with your Sapphic charm, is all."
The brunette cleared her throat. "We haven't done anything, S."
Santana swallowed the last of the bottle before sinking it into the sand, crossing her arms over her knees. She turned to study the woman beside her. After a moment, she narrowed her eyes. "But you want to."
"Is that a question?" Rachel glanced across the fire, breaking their gaze. Instead, her eyes fell on the very person they were discussing. The blonde was sitting beside a lively Brittany, who was making animated gestures about something exciting. Quinn wore an easy smile, at peace. Rachel wondered if she was unaware of the noisy atmosphere around her, with drunken peers spiking a beach ball into the dancing crowd behind her.
"Does it have to be one?" Santana countered, following the brunette's gaze. Quinn, sensing eyes on her, glanced towards them, and gave Rachel a shy wave before being pulled up and away by a jumping Brittany.
Rachel shook herself back into the present, finding the Latina staring smugly at her. "What?"
"Nothing," Santana said, shaking her head. "Look, just be honest with yourself for once."
The brunette frowned. "Like you're one to talk."
Santana ignored the comment. "It's obvious that you want her, so lesbihonest—what's stopping you?"
"I…" Rachel dug her toes into the sand. She squinted into the dark.
"You've never let anything stop you before," Santana said, drawing her attention again.
Rachel leaned toward her, smirking. "What, do you wish I had?"
The Latina snorted, giving her a hard shove. "I told you, chica, it was a one-time thing. Plus, I was drunk."
Rachel caught her balance before the push could send her tumbling off the makeshift bench. She gave her friend a wink and slung an arm around her shoulders, recovering. "Whatever you say, babe."
Santana grumbled under her breath and took Rachel's bottle from her hand, swishing it in her mouth before swallowing. The brunette just shook her head, amused.
Across the fire, Quinn straightened up from reaching into the cooler. She found Brittany and handed her a beer, cracking open a water for herself. The taller blonde nodded her thanks and Quinn found herself following her gaze to see what had the woman so distracted. She caught sight of Santana bent over laughing, a beer loosely held in her hand with an equally loose Rachel sidled up next to her.
Quinn frowned slightly. Was Rachel that touchy with everyone? Was it more than a friendly gesture? She thought back to their night and how Rachel had seemed at ease in the gay bar. Of course, that didn't prove much. Anyone who had grown up outside of an extremely homophobic environment would be comfortable among the minority of people her father insisted on condemning.
Then again, she had shown interest in the waiter at the restaurant she met Brittany at, and hadn't denied anything when Quinn brought it up. She also had said something at the bar. It had involved dancing, but the blonde couldn't place the thought.
Besides, what did it matter if she was a…a lesbian? She would still be the stubborn, complex, undoubtedly charming girl next door.
The same girl that looked like she was currently hitting on Quinn's only sworn enemy. Rachel's hand curled around the Latina's before easing the bottle out of it to take a sip, lips closing softly around the top, sending shivers down the blonde's spine as she watched. The brunette returned it to her friend soon after but remained in close gritted her teeth, letting out a sharp exhale. Granted, her parents' employee wasn't receiving the Rachel-smile that she had directed the blonde's way times before, so there was that. But Rachel had many opportunities to make a move last night, and she hadn't done a single thing.
No that she wanted Rachel to kiss her, nor that she would even reciprocate. Nope. That wasn't the point at all.
So what was?
She jumped when she received a nudge in the side from her friend. "So, which one has your attention? Can't say either one would be a bad choice," Brittany breezed, giving her a small smile before nodding in the direction of the other two women.
"Uhm, excuse me?"
"Oh, don't get your uni-horn all in a bunch, Q," the tall blonde continued. "I know you're dating my cousin—but who hasn't had a girl crush, right?"
Quinn looked back at Santana and Rachel, who had separated a few inches. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
"I mean I would personally go with the Latina. The woman is all kinds of sexy and has a rainbow shining from her that she hasn't even discovered."
"Santana? But she's such a…bitch." Quinn crinkled her nose.
Brittany smiled, focusing back on the woman across the way. "No, that's just her outside-ugly. It sheds when she takes off her mask. If anything, she's a snake."
"Which are terrible creatures," the blonde pointed out.
"Not necessarily," Brittany said, chewing on her lip in thought. "You know, everyone thinks the snake got humans kicked out of that Garden, but in all honestly, I'm pretty sure it was trying to warn them but they took the bite too soon."
Quinn blinked. "What?"
"In short, humans are hungry. And they'll bite, too." Brittany faced her friend. "Look, I can tell you're not after San, so it must be your friendly neighbor. That's cool. She…holds onto grudges a little too much for me."
"Rachel?"
"Yeah. Don't say you heard it from me, though."
"Whatever, we're not… she isn't…I'm not gay, Brittany."
"If you say so," Brittany said, shrugging. "But know that she's had a rough past."
"Well, she looks plenty comfortable right now," Quinn said lowly.
Brittany laughed. "With Santana? Trust me, she'd never go down that road again."
Quinn quirked an eyebrow. "Again?"
Brittany smirked. "Sure. But you're not interested, remember?"
The smaller blonde blushed and fidgeted.
"What do you think they're talking about?" Santana asked Rachel, squinting at the blonde pair.
Rachel frowned. "I don't know, but Quinn looks uncomfortable."
"Are you kidding? That's her normal face."
The brunette rolled her eyes and smacked the Latina. "Be nice."
"Like hell I'm taking orders from you."
"Whatever, Lopez. Besides, I think Brittany's just being Brittany."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Santana said, bristling.
Rachel chuckled. "Retract your claws, Santana. I only mean that she's probably giving Quinn some much needed perspective in her unique, colorful way." She watched as the Latina nodded and relaxed out of the defensive mode she'd tensed into. "So, why are you still all the way over here and not sitting beside a certain tall blonde?"
"Like you can talk. Where's your chick sitting, again?" She threw Rachel a pointed glance.
"I've spent all day with Quinn. Can't say you've done the same. Have you two even spoken past a few words?"
"What? Yeah. Sure. Of course we have."
"Santana."
"Just drop it, okay?" The Latina snorted. "It's not like I'd do anything about it anyway. I'm…straight."
Rachel bit her lip, studying the woman next to her. Rolling off instinct, she wrapped her arms around her friend's torso and gave it a tight squeeze before releasing her hold. "I know," she murmured. "But if you're not, that's okay too."
Santana shifted and cleared her throat, eyes fixed on the ground. To ease away from the sudden seriousness of the moment, Rachel directed a distraction. "So, Lopez, you never told me your secret to getting here, working for the Fabrays. I hadn't heard from you since our last charity gig, and you went black ops and disappeared on me. I'm lucky I bumped into you while looking around town at properties."
The Latina laughed. "Yeah, sorry about that. I got so caught up in the job for the Fabrays that I completely forgot to have a social life—their scandals and drama are enough to replace your own, you know? Uhm, but I was lucky. I got a tip from someone who told me to go for the offer and I did."
"Do you wish you hadn't taken the position?"
Santana rolled the beer bottle between her palms. "Honestly? I dunno. It's a lot of work and they're assholes, but…I could be doing a lot worse."
Rachel played with the rim of her glass, inspecting the women dancing in cages placed around the crowd. She smiled bitterly at the irony; the customers were actually the prisoners, with the costs sex workers charged. What brought a person to seek out such thinly veiled intimacy, anyway?
If she didn't have a mission to bring back intel on one of the pimps she wouldn't have stepped foot anywhere near such an establishment. But, she had to prove she knew what she was doing before the real fun of a vendetta could start, so here she was, seeking out less intimacy and more of a weak link in the chain.
It had been easy falling into the corner, into space undetected and unsuspected. She hadn't even needed to join the moshpit of sweat and body heat clashing at the center of the club. Plus, from this angle, she could see each worker—those in the cages and those on the ground. The women were in tattered robes that had yellowing feathers sewn on haphazardly, as if a second thought.
Just as Rachel was wondering the establishment had escaped all attempted shut downs in the past years, a man dressed in black slipped up to one of the elevated cages, opening it to whisper to the worker. She nodded, hesitating for a moment after he left her with the door open.
The woman, donning straight black hair and Hispanic features, crept down from her perch and into the crowd, where hands were waiting to grab at her. As Rachel watched, she was yanked into the crowd in an instant, lips pressed together in what the brunette guessed was apprehension and anxiety. Nearly half an hour later, Rachel caught sight of her again, this time hair much more ragged, as if it had been grabbed at by many hands, and lipstick smeared.
The brunette followed the woman into the bathroom, and waited until a few others had left them alone. The other woman had locked herself in a stall and Rachel leaned against the wall beside it, eyes on the outside door.
"First time?"
There was a sniffle before a quiet answer. "That obvious?"
"You don't have to be doing this."
The woman snorted. "If I had any other options do you really think I'd be here?"
"Look." Rachel reached into her bag and pulled out an envelope stuffed with cash. It was supposed to be a bribe, but it'd work all the same here. She slipped it underneath the stall door. "Take it. Go back out there and finish your shift, knowing it'll be your last. But don't let on. Once you're done check in with your boss and find out where he's going afterwards. When you get the information, text the number on the front of the envelope. Never call it. Then disappear as soon as you can."
The other woman picked up the wad of cash, flipping through the edges to see hundreds upon hundreds. Her jaw worked but no words came out. She reached for the door, unlocking it, but the stranger was long gone.
"So you'd follow the person's advice over again?"
Santana's gaze dropped. "I owe that person my life. They've never given me reason not to trust their judgment."
Rachel hummed, glad the Latina had been able to turn her life around. "Do you trust me?"
The woman snorted. "What do you want now, Corcoran?"
"Well, the moon is far up in the sky and I think that means it's time for me to head home, but you should at least take my advice and go talk to Brittany. She's been looking this way all night."
Santana followed Rachel's bent thumb straight to blue eyes with a bit of flame in them, though the Latina was unsure if it was entirely due to the reflection of the bonfire between them. She looked back to Rachel, who gave her a small smile and nod before getting up. "I'll see you later, gator."
The Latina nodded in turn, sinking her feet further in the sand. Rachel dodged the other rowdy partiers and made her way over to the two blondes, who met her gaze curiously. She flashed them a grin. "Hello, ladies. I'm thinking about tucking in for the night, and I was looking for a walking buddy. It's safer than walking alone in the dark, you know."
Brittany chuckled and gave the other blonde a light push towards the brunette. "Yeah, pairs are important. Penguins pair for life!"
Quinn looked at her incredulously.
"Go, go. You kiddies have fun. I see a certain unicorn I've been meaning to chat with, anyway." With a wave goodbye and a quick stop to the cooler for an extra beer, the taller blonde was off to make a move.
Rachel looked back down at Quinn, offering a hand to help her up. The blonde sniffed and stood on her own, marching off in the direction they had come from before. Rachel slid in the sand, trying to match her quick pace.
"Whoa! Quinn," she said, "are you okay? What happened?"
"I'm fine," the blonde replied. "I just want to sleep."
"You seem pretty awake to me." Rachel frowned. "Did I miss something?"
"I'm just…you know, my parents could see me crossing the beach on our way to your house."
"Really? Because that didn't bother you on the way over," the brunette countered.
Quinn wavered a little but continued forward, keeping silent as they made their way across the stretch of beach belonging to her family. When they reached Rachel's cottage door, she stood to the side stubbornly as the woman unlocked it, storming up the stairs when it was opened.
"Quinn!"
When the blonde didn't answer, Rachel cursed under her breath, following her briskly and leaning against the doorframe to the bedroom. "Quinn Fabray."
The blonde practically growled in response.
Rachel ignored it, pressing on. "You're a terrible liar."
"Excu—"
"Don't bother. We both know you're just diverting."
The blonde crossed her arms, arching a brow in challenge.
"So, spare me the guessing game." Rachel took a step closer. "Please, Quinn."
Quinn let out a huff before throwing her hands up. "It's…Santana! Of all people, you spent the entire night with her?"
"This again? Look, I get that neither of you are big fans of each other but you live within the same house. You guys have to get over whatever problem you have, because you're both my friends."
"Yeah, friends," Quinn muttered.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Rachel said, brow furrowing.
"I know you slept with Santana!"
Rachel stared at her, mouth dropping open slightly, before she bent over laughing.
"It's not funny!" Quinn's cold voice cut through the room and Rachel steadied herself, still chuckling lightly.
"Is that what all this is about?"
"What are you, anyways? Gay?"
Rachel tilted her head. "I relate more to the label bisexual. Why, would it bug you if I was a lesbian?"
"No! I just…whatever." Quinn's hands landed on her hips, one side jutting out. "So, you're not even going to try to deny the thing with her?"
Rachel shrugged. "Not that it's any of your business who I become involved with, but Santana and I most certainly did not have sex." Quinn's nose crinkled. The corner of the brunette's mouth upturned at the cute quirk. "We were both drunk and swapped kisses during a party once, but nothing more."
The blonde frowned. "But Brittany said—"
"Brittany?" Rachel asked, running a hand through her hair before crossing the room to plop down on the bed. "What exactly did she say?"
Quinn turned to face her, arms crossed. "She…she said you'd never go down that road with Santana again."
"Right, so she never actually said we had slept together, had she?" Rachel pointed out, leaning back.
"Well, no. But—"
"But nothing. You asked. I told you the truth. Have I ever given you reason to doubt me?"
Quinn studied the calm woman intently before letting out a huff in response. "Not yet."
"Exactly." Rachel tugged a knee against her stomach. "Besides, why does it bother you so much?"
The blonde groaned and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Because! It's Santana. She's a deranged demon hell-bent on driving me insane."
Rachel smiled, reaching out to rub Quinn's back in an attempt to soothe her. "Sounds like she's become the sister you never wanted."
"More like nemesis," the blonde muttered, easing back against the brunette's chest as she tucked her legs underneath her.
"Trust me, if that's your nemesis, you got off pretty easily. She's just a big softie underneath the frustrating exterior." The brunette rested her cheek on her friend's head.
"You keep saying that," Quinn protested, "but I'll believe it when I see it."
It was silent for a moment, until Rachel shifted uneasily and cleared her throat.
The blonde trailed a finger across the woman's arm, rolling her eyes. "Just spit it out, Rach."
The brunette hummed. "Well, I didn't want to bring it up earlier, because it's far too soon and I don't want to reopen the fresh wound, but uhm, your mother called me the first night you stayed over and invited me over for a brunch with other women who were victims of the exposed therapy sessions…"
Quinn was quiet, still drawing circles on her skin, so Rachel continued. "I don't know what it entails, but the meeting is tomorrow and something tells me I should go. You know, just in case there are detectives looking for answers or even if it's only a support group."
She felt Quinn nod before her husky voice picked up. "No, no. You should definitely go. My mother's got a lot of power in her circles and it would be a mistake to miss out on an invite."
"Still, I feel bad leaving you alone. Do you want me to help you grab anything from the house?" Rachel smirked. "I can slip away while everyone's busy and stash a bunch of your stuff for you."
Quinn sat up, amused. "Or, you could just let me know when the coast is clear and I'll slip in, unannounced and leave unnoticed. Except with my things."
"We make god partners in crime, huh?" Rachel said, tapping her on the nose.
The blonde laughed. "I'll be the brains, you can be the brawn."
"What? That makes no sense. I'm much smaller. Plus, it was my idea!"
Quinn grinned. "Yeah, but I perfected your suggestion into a planned mission. You just get to do all the dirty work for me."
Rachel arched an eyebrow, smirking. "Dirty work, huh?"
A/N: Love it? Hate it? Leave a comment to let me know what's going through your heads ;)
