A/N: So, the majority of you guys are expecting Rachel to make the first move. I just want you to know, this is exactly how the chapter was when I wrote it three weeks ago. Haven't changed a thing…

Just off the Key of Reason

Chapter 7: We Need Umbrellas on the Inside

Rachel was just getting ready for her show the next day when her phone buzzed. She smiled when Quinn's name popped up.

Q: RACHEL

R: QUINN!

Q: ARE YOU BUSY RIGHT THIS SECOND?

R: WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT ME?

Q: THERE'S A BIRD IN OUR APARTMENT!

R: OH MY GOD QUINN, GET RID OF IT! D:

Q: I CAN'T CATCH IT, I DON'T LIKE BIRDS…

R: OKAY, stay in a different room or something Q, and don't let B eat it! I'm about to go on.

Q: :( GOOD LUCK. HURRY.

R: aww :D I'LL BE HOME SOON

Rachel didn't know what to expect as she trudged up the stairs in the apartment building. What if it was a fucking vulture? There could be a vulture in her apartment. Bald eagle. Chicken. Toucan. Goddamned emu. Quinn had not been specific enough. She squinted when she caught sight of two figures sitting in the hallway as she came out of the stairs. Quinn and Barnaby.

"Quinn! How long have you been out here?"

Quinn scrambled up and looked sheepish. "A few hours." She mumbled. "The bird was making me really nervous."

Rachel looked at the door apprehensively. "So, what kind of bird is it? Because I was picturing geese and seagulls and…" God, what was the plural of albatross? Albatri?

Quinn just stared at her and Rachel shook her head to clear her thoughts. Not the time for that, Rachel. Focus. She set her shoulders and put her hand on the knob. "You coming?"

Quinn swallowed and nodded slightly, one hand clinging tightly to the back of Rachel's coat, the other gripping Barnaby's leash. Rachel couldn't blame her; Barnaby would most likely want to catch and 'play with,' or 'accidentally kill' any live thing that might be in their apartment.

Rachel opened the door, stepped inside, and was dive-bombed by a pigeon. She shrieked and rushed through the apartment to the main bathroom, dragging Quinn and the dog along behind her. Quinn was holding her nose and blowing air out her ears as they locked the door behind them. "Rachel! That was-that was like sonar. Like-like a bat. I think you damaged my ears."

Rachel tried to calm her racing heart. Barnaby looked overjoyed at all this damn excitement. "I'm sorry." Rachel breathed out. She was much more focused on the wild fucking animal in her apartment than Quinn's temporary hearing loss. Crap. Crap. Crap. What to do. Rachel whipped out her phone to call Puck, who didn't answer, of course. She sighed and dialed Santana, yeah, oh God, as Quinn watched.

"Berry, you ask her out yet?"

"Shut up Santana!" Rachel hissed, glancing at Quinn, who was rubbing absentmindedly at her ears. Barnaby had gotten in the bathtub.

"Geez, what's up your ass?"

"There's a feral pigeon flying around our apartment."

There was silence for a moment, and then Santana burst out laughing.

"Leave a window open?" Santana choked out.

Rachel looked pointedly at Quinn. "Obviously someone must have left a window open." Quinn flushed and stopped messing with her ears. "Come catch it for us."

Santana stopped laughing. "What am I, some avian expert to you? I'm not a freaking bird-catching zookeeper Berry. Do it yourself."

Rachel sighed. "Santana-"

"Oh, and get it on video please." Santana interrupted, before laughing again and hanging up.

Rachel and Quinn sat in silence for a minute; there was no sign that the bird was even out there anymore. Of course, that's what he wants you to think, Rachel. He's really hiding in your bed, ready to fly into your hair and peck your eyes out when you least expect it.

Rachel stepped up to Quinn and put both her hands over the other woman's ears. "Okay?" she asked.

Quinn nodded and ducked her head. "Yeah, um, just…ringing a little."

Rachel chuckled. "My voice can reach supernatural pitches. I mean, really, it's just ungodly." She stepped away from Quinn as the taller woman smiled, and then stuck her head out into the hallway. Rachel channeled her inner ninja, or Jackie Chan, or really any particularly agile Asian, and opened the closet door, stepping fully into the hallway to pull out a broom and a Swiffer Sweeper that she had never used in her life. She gave the broom to Quinn.

"Okay, I'm going to send B out there first. He'll scare the bird, or, you know, move it, so we know where it is. Then, we rush it with the brooms and make it go back out the window."

After it shits all over our furniture.

Well, this was a wonderful plan. Completely flawless.

Quinn nodded skeptically. Rachel grabbed a sock from the closet, made it into a ball, and tossed it out into the living area. Barnaby bounded out of the bathtub and around the corner, out of sight. Rachel heard the fluttering of wings and charged out with her Swiffer held high, Quinn right behind her. They really had no idea where the bird was, or what they were doing. God, there probably wasn't even a bird in there. Basically, they screamed as loud as they possibly could and flailed their weapons around randomly, shaking their heads so nothing could land on them.

Quinn seemed to have caught sight of the pigeon, as she was moving less spastically than Rachel. Then again, most people moved less spastically than Rachel. In everyday life. Rachel joined her anyway, and they managed to beat it back through the window.

"Don't hurt him! Don't hurt him! Get out!" Rachel screamed. "Make sure you don't hit him! Get the hell out the window bird! Wait, don't hurt him!"

Quinn dropped her broom and almost flung herself out the window in her haste to shut it. She collapsed against the wall of the living room breathing deeply. "Holy shit." She gasped out.

Rachel choked a laugh through the heart attack she was having. She had never heard Quinn swear. She went and sat next to the blonde, patting the choppy "I just got attacked by a fucking bird" hair to settle it down. Quinn looked at her and did the same for Rachel's.

"That was…" Rachel breathed out, unsure of where she was going with that.

"I'm never opening a window again." Quinn vowed. Rachel put her head on the other woman's shoulder. She definitely agreed. No more windows. No more…going outside. Yep, she'll just stay right here in this position forever, and that'll be totally fine. Barnaby agreed, as he sprawled himself over their legs, ball sock in his mouth, content smile on his doggy face.

And, God, bird shit on their coffee table.

~oooooooooo~

After Rachel's evening show the next day, she headed home with a massive bag of gummy worms and a copy of Paranormal Activity 2. So much for never watching it again. Apparently, Quinn had not seen it, and felt that she needed to be educated because her scary movie knowledge was severely lacking. Rachel was skeptical. Well, no, she was more than skeptical. This was a horrible idea; they'd both probably be terrified wrecks by the end of the night…but, that's what the candy was for. Gummy worms could make all problems disappear. Always.

"Quinn." Rachel called absently as she stepped into the bird-free apartment. She would never take that fact for granted ever again.

Quinn walked out of the bedroom hallway and into the living room. Rachel glanced at her, tossing the gummy worms onto the coffee table and throwing her coat onto a hook by the door.

"Hey, how was your day?" Rachel inquired. She stopped messing around with all her stuff and looked at Quinn when the woman didn't respond.

Quinn looked nervous. Her eyes were fixed on Rachel's feet, and she held something behind her back as she shifted side to side. Rachel walked over to her slowly.

"Quinn?"

Quinn took a deep breath. "It was good…my day, it was good."

Rachel nodded slightly and watched Quinn open and close her mouth a few times. "Words, Quinn." She said with a half-smile, ducking her head to catch Quinn's eye.

Quinn rocked back on her heels. "I-I have a question. For you."

"Okay." Rachel said warmly. "Ask away."

"Um, but first…I got you something."

Rachel watched as Quinn pulled a stuffed lion out from behind her back. It was adorable, pale yellow with a huge, fluffy mane. Rachel grinned and took it from Quinn's slightly shaky hand. The blonde had turned crimson.

"Quinn! This is so cute! He looks like a four-legged version of Fuzzy!"

Quinn smiled shyly and flicked the rubber band on her wrist a few times. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Um, Fuzzy's in the closet all the time, so I thought he could use a…friend." Quinn shook her head like she couldn't believe she just said that. Rachel chuckled and ran her fingers through the lion's mane.

"I love him. I'll call him…Cuddles." She said. Rachel Berry's stuffed animals must have adorable names. She watched patiently as Quinn bit her lip and tried to find the right words for whatever she wanted to say. Rachel looked calm on the outside, but, you know, she's an amazing actress. Purely fantastic. She really felt like she was having some sort of mental breakdown, from…excitement? Anxiety? Quinn looked like she was suffering the same thing. They could have their psychotic breaks together.

"Quinn. You're okay. Just ask me, big bear."

Quinn gave her an uneasy smile, and put her hands in her pockets. Then she locked hazel eyes with Rachel's brown, and licked her lips.

"Can I take you on a date?" she asked, so quietly that Rachel had to lean in to hear. Her heart leapt, and she tried to stop herself from grinning like a fool in case she was just delusional right now. Or Quinn was delusional. Or everybody was just dreaming and life was not real.

"You wanna go out with me?" Rachel clarified, trying to stop her face from doing whatever the hell it was trying to do right now.

Quinn, surprisingly, maintained eye contact as she gave a small nod, tapping her fuzzy sock-clad toes against the carpet.

Rachel allowed her face to transform, very slowly, so that she didn't look like a lunatic and scare Quinn away. Quinn's eyes were bright and hopeful as she saw Rachel's emerging smile.

"I would love to go on a date with you, Quinn." Rachel said, beaming and hugging Cuddles tightly to her.

Quinn grinned shyly. She also looked like she was trying to control her face, eyes darting over Rachel's. "Really?"

Rachel nodded emphatically. "Yes. My answer is yes."

Quinn let out a sort of half-laugh, half-sigh and abruptly pulled Rachel into a hug. Rachel chuckled and wrapped her arms around the taller woman, squishing Cuddles between them. Rachel could feel Quinn quivering, and rubbed up and her back to calm her down.

"Aw, honey. You were really nervous." Rachel murmured softly, smiling into Quinn's neck.

Quinn pulled back with a sheepish grin and a blush, and she shrugged. Rachel let the taller woman take her arm and drag her over to the couch. She watched as Quinn put the movie in and laughed as she plopped back on the couch and stuffed a handful of gummy worms into her mouth.

Rachel put her head on Quinn's shoulder and filled her own mouth with gummy worms. Maybe the fact that she felt like she was on top of the freaking world would counteract the damage this movie was about to inflict upon her.

~oooooooooo~

"Quinn, your feet are like blocks of ice."

Quinn pulled her legs further onto her own side of the bed. "Sorry." She mumbled. It was quiet for a few seconds. "Rachel?"

"Yeah." Rachel breathed out, eyes closed so that she wouldn't turn the shadows in her room into creepy stalker demon people.

"Can I put the bathroom light on?"

God, yes. Jesus, Lord almighty, a million times yes. Rachel smiled into her pillow. "Sure, Quinn…And grab some of my socks. Fluffy ones. Top drawer."

Quinn turned on the light and put on some socks, then climbed back under the covers and sighed. Rachel peeked her eyes open; she could just see Quinn's eyes in the dim light.

"Hey, Quinn."

Quinn hummed.

"Maybe we should try sleeping in different beds. I mean, I don't know what your…intentions…are, but…"Rachel watched as Quinn's brow furrowed. "Sorry, that was stupid. I meant, it would be a more…romantic date, if we didn't, you know, spend eight hours together every night." Rachel's face was on fire. She reached down to the body between hers and Quinn's, and ruffled Barnaby's ears, just for something to do.

"Okay." Quinn agreed softly. "I'll…sleep by myself tomorrow."

Rachel rolled over to face her. "For one night."

"One night." Quinn repeated.

Rachel smiled into the darkness. She tried not to imagine what it would look like with a night vision ghost/stalker/demon camera. "So, do you know where you're taking me?"

Quinn chuckled. "Yes. Um, it's not, like, fancy or anything…But, I think you'll like it."

"Tell me what you have planned." Rachel prodded Quinn in the shoulder until the other woman rolled onto her side to face her.

"No." Quinn grinned.

"Quinn." Rachel whined.

"Rachel."

Rachel huffed and rolled back onto her back. She watched Quinn out of the corner of her eye. "When, then?"

"Saturday…Um, afternoon."

Rachel lolled her head to the side to gaze at Quinn's amused expression. She could probably bully some information out of the woman, but she was too busy picturing demons standing over her sleeping body, preparing to kill her.

"Are your feet warm yet?" she asked instead. "You're like a reptile, Quinn."

Quinn snorted into the sheets. "No, I'm a bear." She said. "And yes, your socks fixed me."

"You and Barnaby are taking up, like, ninety-eight percent of the bed. I'm sliding off the edge, Quinn. I am the two percent, and you're forcing me over the edge."

As Rachel complained, she moved closer to Quinn, cuddling up into the other woman's warm pajamas. Good. Now if some paranormal force decided to fling her around the bedroom in the middle of the night, Quinn would be coming with her. They had a stuffed bear and lion between them. Quinn chuckled and patted Rachel's head.

"Last night, little bear. You should be cherishing it."

Rachel smiled. "Goodnight, Quinn."

Surprisingly, Paranormal Activity didn't invade Rachel's dreams. She fell asleep in Quinn's arms, and only woke up when Barnaby decided to sprawl himself over her face in the morning. Yeah, she'd miss her bed being so full, but, really, she had a date on Saturday.

~oooooooooo~

"You're fucking with me Berry."

"No I'm not! Really, she asked me out!" Rachel argued into her phone the next afternoon. She was lying on the living room floor with her feet propped up on the couch. God knows why. Arguing with Santana made her body do some weird things to attempt to escape.

"I don't believe you. She's like a goddamned bunny. There's no way she asked you out."

Rachel wondered how Quinn being "like a bunny" would stop her from asking Rachel out. She smiled up at the ceiling as she heard the front door open and close.

"Shut up, Santana. You can ask her yourself."

Rachel heard something smash on the other end of the line. Santana groaned in the distance. Quinn sat down cross-legged on the couch facing Rachel's feet and tapped her fingers up and down her shins.

"Santana? Were you just attacked? Should I call an ambulance? Is there a bird in your apartment?" Rachel rambled, wide-eyed.

The line crackled again before Santana spoke. "Jesus Christ. Next time you have a fucking bird in your apartment, Rachel, come over here and take Britt's cat, okay. It will kill anything it sets its goddamned laser death eyes on."

Rachel winced. She heard a cat yowling in the background.

"Anyway, yeah, put blondie on. I need to hear this shit from her."

Rachel held the phone up to Quinn and poked her in the ribs with her toes. "Quinn. Santana doesn't believe we're going on a date. Can you tell her?"

Quinn looked like a deer caught in the headlights, and Rachel nudged her in the side with her foot again.

"Just tell her you asked me out. If she's a bitch, just hang up. It's like a default setting for her." Rachel smiled when Quinn took the phone. She listened closely to Quinn's side of the conversation.

"Hello...Yeah."

Quinn frowned. "Hey, don't call her that." Rachel smiled to herself.

"Um, I gave her a stuffed lion…Cuddles…No it's not. Stop calling her that."

Quinn suddenly flushed, and then held the phone away from her ear for a minute before handing it back to Rachel.

"What did you say to her?" Rachel asked Santana suspiciously. Quinn was still bright red as she started playing with Rachel's toes.

"That's none of your business, Berry. But I do believe you now."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "I told you."

Santana obviously ignored her. "Rachel, be nice to her. She's sweet, and she probably doesn't know what she's doing." She said in a softer voice.

Rachel blushed; God, her eyes felt like they were welling up. One nice comment from Santana could alter the foundation she's built her life on. Jesus, it could probably shift tectonic plates. Just weird.

"Of course." Rachel said quietly, watching Quinn play with her toes like little piggies.

When Rachel hung up, she heaved herself off the floor and walked around to the back of the couch, mussing Quinn's hair on the way. Quinn just ducked her head and huffed. Rachel grinned.

"Where's B?" Quinn asked, glancing around the apartment. Rachel looked around too; Barnaby usually assaulted Quinn the minute she walked through the door. She frowned.

"Maybe he's sleeping." Rachel guessed.

"Hey, B! Barnaby!" Quinn called in the direction of the bedrooms. As she was standing up to go and look for herself, Barnaby came plodding into the living room. Slowly and dejectedly. Rachel was instantly worried.

She walked over and crouched down with Quinn in front of the dog.

"He's been kind of quiet over the last couple days." Quinn murmured, rubbing his ears fondly.

Rachel got up to check his food bowl in the kitchen, and holy mother of God it was full. It was fucking full. She had never seen Barnaby's bowl full for more than two seconds. And, what the hell was that? Cheetos? And dog food. Of course.

"He didn't eat his breakfast." Rachel said, returning to Quinn's side. Rachel wouldn't eat that shit either, but, you know, this wasn't about her. Quinn looked up at her worriedly.

"We should-we should take him to the vet, right? What if something's wrong with him?" Quinn's eyes were darting across Rachel's face. Rachel put a hand on the back of her neck to calm her down.

"He probably just has a tummy ache, Quinn. But, yeah, we can take him to the vet. Better safe than sorry."

Quinn nodded vigorously, and then rubbed Barnaby's fluffy golden belly while Rachel flitted around and gathered his papers and leash. Barnaby seemed okay with the eight-block walk to the vet, so Rachel didn't let Quinn carry him, which the other woman was all too willing to do. Quinn had just shuffled impossibly slowly along behind the dog the whole way, ready to literally catch him if he fell.

They sat in the waiting room for a while. Rachel gave up trying to stop Quinn's fidgeting, and gave her a quarter for the gumball machine so that the bouncing of the blonde's legs wouldn't drive her completely crazy. The doctor finally called them back into the tiny exam room, and Rachel breathed a sigh of relief, following Quinn inside.

"So, how's Mr. Barnaby doing today?" The vet asked, running his hands along Barnaby's sides and checking for swelling and dehydration.

Rachel glanced at Quinn, who was biting her lip and tapping the edge of the exam table anxiously.

"He's not so good." Rachel said, smiling slightly when Barnaby's tail gave a slight wag at her voice. "He's lethargic, and, I mean, it's really obvious, because he's the most excitable dog in the world."

She looked at Quinn again, who nodded slightly in agreement.

"And he didn't eat his breakfast, which is just-it's insane. For him." Rachel finished.

The doctor nodded, checking Barnaby's ears and then gums. "Has he had anything weird to eat over the past week?"

Quinn flushed and stared at Barnaby's paws. Rachel reached over and grabbed her tapping hands.

"Nothing that he hasn't had before." Rachel replied. "I mean, he's gotten into the garbage too many times to count, and he's had stuffed animal legs and DVD players…"

"Iron stomach, huh." The vet chuckled. "How about chocolate? Maybe grapes, caffeine, onions, candy? Any of those?"

Rachel started shaking her head, but Quinn froze. Rachel looked up at her anguished expression.

"I gave him the-the onions off my burger a few days ago. Are they bad for him? Did I do this?" Quinn made a little whining sound. She looked panicked and glanced down at Rachel, who put a calming hand on the taller woman's back.

"Rachel, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"Hey, he's okay." The doctor interjected before Quinn could have a full freak out about how she was killing Rachel's dog. Rachel just kept rubbing her back. She gently removed the rubber band from Quinn's wrist before Quinn could snap it again.

"A couple onions from a burger wouldn't have caused this." The vet continued. "Like you said, he's been in the garbage before. Now, looking at his gums, he's a little anemic. He probably ate something on a walk or something he wasn't supposed to have in your house. We can do a blood test if you want, but I think if you just make sure he eats right and give him a day to recover, plenty of water, he'll be fine."

Quinn was wordlessly moving her jaw up and down. Rachel scratched Barnaby's back. "You're sure? He's definitely been eating some…not so good stuff." Rachel glanced at a bashful, slightly calmer Quinn. "He seems so sad."

The vet smiled and patted the goldie's head. "Absolutely. He'll be back to his crazy ways in no time."

Good. Because Barnaby was basically a human in their household.

Rachel tried to cheer Quinn up on their slow walk home. So slow. Maybe if Quinn had actually killed her dog, Rachel would be angry, but Quinn just looked so ashamed. Rachel bumped against her shoulder.

"So, no more Cheetos right?" she said with a smile.

Quinn nodded resolutely, serious expression fixed in place.

"Quinn, he's going to be fine. He's-oh God, look, see that. He just ate someone's gum off the sidewalk. Chewing gum, Quinn. Your childish dislike of onions had nothing to do with this. He's-God, he can't even swallow it."

Quinn cracked a smile and Rachel poked her in the ribs, watching Barnaby hack on, and then inhale the gum. Quinn leaned forward and tweaked his fluffy tail.

"Hey, B, that's gross. No more Cheetos for you, dog. I'm putting you on a diet. Of dog food. And I'm sorry for that."

"He's been spoiled." Rachel remarked.

Quinn chuckled. "Well yeah, apparently you let him eat DVD players…"

For the record, Rachel hadn't actually fed her dog a DVD player. Yeah, she left it sitting out on the floor when B was a puppy, but surely that didn't mean 'eat me.' Anyway, she'd learned her lesson, and now all aspects of their entertainment center were in cabinets under the TV. That night for dinner, Barnaby had only dog food, for the first time since Quinn had moved in.