I fully intended to have this up on Christmas Eve, and then on Christmas, and then on the day after Christmas... But things just got so busy! Better late than never, right? And hopefully the length will make up for the delay. :) I hope you all had a lovely holiday and will have an even happier New Year! :D

I cannot thank you all enough for the support and enthusiasm you have shown this story! I'm almost a little sad to be posting the final chapter, but I can't drag it out forever, no matter how fun that might be, lol. ;) Wow, this is my first time to ever complete an actual story... Granted, it's a mini-story, but still!

As always, enjoy, and be sure to let me know what you think! xD


CHAPTER SEVEN

"Quinnie! Come help me frost the cookies."

Quinn set her book down onto the coffee table and rolled off the couch, sighing. "Okay, Mom."

"Happier, please."

Quinn walked into the kitchen. "Okay, Mom!" She mustered up a gloriously fake grin and clapped her hands together, shooting her arms up into a perfect V. "H-A-P-P-Y! IIIIII'mmm happy!" She jumped and touched her toes, landing on a bended knee with one hand on her hip and the other up high in the air, fingers wiggling with spirit.

Judy Fabray rolled her eyes but smiled in amusement. "You're a smartass, you know that, kid?"

"It's how I was raised," Quinn said, standing up and shrugging with the utmost innocence. But now she was kind of smiling, too, genuinely this time.

"Why so down in the dumps?" Judy asked, holding out a clean butter knife as Quinn approached her.

Quinn took it and grabbed a container of dark green frosting. "No reason." But she frowned down at her reflection in the knife's sparkling clean silver, feeling a sudden – and all-too-familiar – heaviness return to her gut.

Her eyes were so bright and green; her nose was so perfect; her lips were full and yet dainty at the same time. She was a total catch! … Wasn't she? Why hadn't Rachel jumped at the chance to be with her? Why did she think so little of her to buy her socks, such a boring, impersonal gift? She sighed, pouting at herself and wallowing in self-pity, her heart tightening as she thought of the tiny girl with those glowing brown eyes and amazing voice and adorably questionable fashion taste.

A sad little sigh worked up from Quinn's chest before spilling past her downturned mouth.

"Quit looking at your reflection in that thing and start icing the cookies," Judy said, mock-scolding.

"I can't help it that I'm really, really, really, ridiculously good-looking," Quinn said with a wink at her mom.

"Did you ever think that maybe there's more to life than being really, really, really, ridiculously good-looking?"

"Yeah," Quinn gave a big, dreamy grin. "Like bacon."

Now she and Judy were giggling, and Quinn was able to – almost – shove away all heart-tugging thoughts of Rachel Berry from her mind.

Ten minutes into decorating the sugar cookies Judy had baked with green or red frosting, the doorbell rang.

"It's probably UPS," said Judy. "Would you get that?"

"Sure," Quinn scratched her nose.

When she opened the door – a gust of cold winter air stealing inside and smacking her face – she was fully prepared to find an older gentleman staring back, dressed in a brown UPS costume and holding a package to be signed for.

What she found instead was a short brunette girl holding a gift bag and smiling rather nervously. Rather adorably nervously.

"Hi, Quinn," said none other than Rachel Berry, eyes bright, cheeks pink from the cold, and lifting up a hand sporting a fuzzy red mitten and waving. "Is this a bad time?"


Rachel released a long breath as she closed her car door behind her and started walking up the porch of the Fabray Estate.

Okay, it wasn't really an estate. It was actually a more modest house than she'd anticipated, two stories and painted eggshell white with red shutters. Cute, but quaint.

Rachel had half-expected a giant stone castle with gargoyles shaped like bacon and a moat swimming with alligators guarding the gates. Anything else wasn't worthy to house a girl as glamorous as Quinn Fabray.

When she reached the front door, Rachel paused. There would be no going back after knocking. It was now or never: to Quinn, or not to Quinn, that is the question.

Her fist pounded the door, choosing the former.

A few seconds and accelerated heartbeats later, and the door swung open, revealing Quinn.

Rachel's heart melted at the sight: the always-pristine girl wore a simple gray sweatshirt, a pair of dark pink sweatpants, and her hair framed a face devoid of any makeup whatsoever. It was officially her favorite look for the girl. And, honestly, she was just glad Quinn hadn't answered the door with tear-reddened eyes, clutching a bundle of crusty old tissues as the song "Last Christmas" blared on repeat in the background.

"Hi, Quinn. Is this a bad time?"

Quinn just gaped at her, dumbstruck.

"You, uh…you've got some frosting on your nose," Rachel's smile turned affectionate as she gestured at her own nose, illustrating the concept.

Quinn blinked, then blushed, ducking her head as she swiped away the dark red smudge.

"Rachel," she said, looking at her again with fear and excitement, "Wh…what are you doing here?"

Rachel pulled her coat farther around her; the temperature was below freezing, and snow was forecasted to fall within the hour. "I come bearing gifts." She held up the large gift bag with snowmen all over it.

Quinn rubbed her feet together; Rachel noticed that she wore a pair of bright rainbow-striped socks.

"Hey!" Rachel beamed. "You're wearing a pair of the socks I got you!"

Quinn stared down at them as if she'd forgotten and then smiled softly when her eyes reconnected with Rachel's jubilant ones. "Yeah. They're comfy."

"Only the best for you," Rachel said, to which Quinn quirked an eyebrow.

"Er…I mean… Okay, it was a lame present," Rachel tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. "But I'm here to make it up to you."

Quinn cocked her head, eyes alight with hope. "What do you mean?"

Rachel thrust out the bag. "Here! Take it; it's yours."

Smile turning curious, Quinn took the bag and pulled out the red tissue paper inside, hand rooting before it unearthed the first object.

As she pulled out the book, Rachel started babbling. "I, uh, well, I know I said I don't know you that well, but I got to thinking last night, like a lot, and I realized I know you a lot better than I thought I did."

Quinn stared at the cover, biting her lip thoughtfully as she read the title: Patti Lupone: A Memoir.

"I know you love to read, so I got you my favorite book, because I think you will really enjoy reading about the fabulous life of a Broadway star," Rachel continued, as Quinn pulled out another book, this one reading Murder on the Orient Express.

"That's by Agatha Christie, arguably the best female detective writer, and that's one of her most famous works. I bought myself a copy, too, and I was thinking we could read it together and have our own little book club, so that way maybe I could actually learn some pointers on investigating since I did such a bad job of it this past week," Rachel said, nervously gauging Quinn's reaction – the blonde was staring at the books with her lips quirked up the slightest in a smile and her eyes glowing with warmth.

Quinn pulled out the last item; it elicited a laugh, made her gaze at Rachel with eyes that Rachel realized were glittering with a thin layer of tears. "Tofu bacon? Seriously?" But she sounded as delighted as she did incredulous.

"Well, yeah! I was thinking I could come over sometime, or you could come over, and I could cook it for you. It's referred to as 'fakeon' in the vegan lexicon, and maybe we could eat it together? It's pretty good, but probably not going to be as good to you as bacon, but, you know… You never know!" Rachel clutched her hands and swayed, taking a steadying breath to pull her racing nerves together.

"I love it! All of it! Thank you." Their gazes held meaningfully, and Rachel nodded her 'you're welcome.'

"Quinn, I… I left you that note that said you are the prettiest girl I've ever met," Rachel said. "And you are the prettiest girl I've ever met, but…you're a lot more than that." She smiled a soft, shy smile, dimples popping out. "And I'm sorry it took me so long to finally realize that."

Quinn blinked a few times, her eyes turning less glassy as she did so, and then her mouth dove upward into a shy but happy and gorgeous grin that had Rachel feeling lost in it, in the most wondrous way.

"Do you, d-do…" Quinn licked her smiling lips, shrugged with more casualness than her face showed. "Do you want to come inside? We could make the 'fakeon.' And you could help my mom and I ice some cookies."

"Do I get to put some frosting on my nose, too?" Rachel giggled.

"I would be insulted if you didn't," Quinn winked (and Rachel's stomach swooped), throwing the door open all the way.

Rachel stepped inside, shedding layers of clothing as she met the warm air of the Fabray household and left behind the cold winter outside.

"Here, I'll take that," Quinn said, hurrying to help Rachel with her scarf, coat, and mittens. Rachel wore a white sweater with small blue Christmas trees all over it, a black miniskirt, white tights, and black Mary-Jane shoes.

But all Quinn saw when she looked at her – besides how enchanting the girl's smile was as she excitedly looked around at Quinn's living room – was the necklace, hanging at the perfect point of her chest, right above her breasts.

"You're wearing it," Quinn blurted out with ample joy.

Rachel gazed down at the star-charm necklace, hooking a finger at it and toying with the stars before returning her eyes up to Quinn's. Hazel-green and amber-brown burned together with affection.

"Yeah, of course I am; I really, really love it. It's gorgeous, Quinn. Thank you."

Quinn blushed. "I saw it when I was searching for star-themed jewelry online, and I knew I had to get it for you."

"Well, I'm glad you did." Now Rachel was blushing, too.

"Quinn," Judy's voice called from the kitchen. "That doesn't sound like UPS."

Quinn set the presents Rachel had gotten her and Rachel's winter wear neatly out on the loveseat. Then, she held out her hand to Rachel as an endearingly gentle smile appeared. "Come on."

Rachel smiled back and slipped her hand into Quinn's; it was a warm, steady, perfect fit. Quinn wasted no time in lacing their fingers together, and Rachel felt her heart leap forward as Quinn tugged her along to the kitchen.

Quinn was giggling, her face flushed with bright joy, as she pulled Rachel to a stop beside her in the kitchen. Their hips bumped together, a tantalizing rebound of bone to bone.

"Hey, Mom," Quinn said.

Judy looked up from a cookie, her stare falling to Quinn and Rachel's joined hands. "Oh." A second, and then Judy's face lit up with glee. "Oh! Hi! You must be Rachel."

Rachel bubbled with joy, licking her lips as they spread upward into a jubilant smile. "You've heard about me?"

"Please," Judy snorted, returning her attention to frosting a cookie. "Quinn wouldn't shut up about you all last week when she got you for Secret Santa. It was, 'Mom, do you think Rachel would prefer a necklace or a bracelet?' and 'Mom, how should I word this poem?'"

"Mom!"

"What?" Judy chuckled – as did Rachel. "It's cute of you, Quinn."

"Yeah," Rachel squeezed their interwoven hands, capturing Quinn's attention. "It's cute."

Quinn's eyes grew wide; she quickly looked away, cheeks an adorable shade of red. Rachel felt like she could explode with happiness.

"Do, um, do you need our help here?" Quinn asked Judy.

Judy shook her head. "I just frosted the last cookie. I'm going to go upstairs, actually." She raised her eyebrows at her, rife with meaning, before boring her stare into Rachel. "You be good to my Quinnie. I've heard you're a sweet girl, but if you mess with the mama bull, you're gonna get the mama horns, you got it?" She held up her forefinger and middle finger and thrust them in Rachel's direction a few times.

"OhmyGod, Mo-om!" Quinn stomped her foot and bugged her eyes.

"Yes, ma'am," Rachel giggled. "You don't have to worry about that. I'll treat Quinn like a princess."

Judy smiled wide (but Quinn smiled wider). "Good! All right, help yourself to anything in the kitchen, Rachel. And Quinn, you make sure your special guest is comfortable."

As Judy passed by to leave the kitchen, she ruffled Quinn's hair and shot a sweet wink to Rachel.

Rachel rubbed her thumb across the back of Quinn's hand in soothing circles, relishing the way their hands fit. Quinn's seemed to be made for hers, unlike Finn's, whose were way too big, like a glove that kept slipping off Rachel's fingers. Quinn's were like a cashmere custom-fit.

"It's okay," Rachel said, "Don't be embarrassed. Your mom seems really cool."

"She is. And thanks."

"So… What do you want to do now?" Quinn asked, turning her hand around in Rachel's so she could play with her fingertips, curling and uncurling against them with her own.

Rachel smiled. "I'm hungry for some lunch, if you are."

"Yeah, sounds good." Quinn reluctantly dropped her hand from Rachel's. "How about you go get the fakeon, and I'll start chopping up a salad."

"Sounds good!" Rachel nodded and fired off a peppy salute with no irony whatsoever that had Quinn giggling.

As Rachel retrieved the tofu bacon, Quinn pulled out some spinach, kale, tomatoes, strawberries, and blueberries to make a salad. She was pulling down the large wooden mixing bowl when Rachel walked back in with the fakeon.

"Took you long enough," Quinn teased.

"I was admiring all the framed portraits of you and your mother. I particularly like the one of you and guys and the dog wearing the Santa hat."

"That's my golden retriever, Buttercup," Quinn said, tossing cupfuls of fruit into a colander and rinsing it in the sink. "She's outside, if you want to meet her sometime."

Rachel grinned. "Sure! I love dogs." She walked over to Quinn, placed the tofu bacon on the kitchen island. "Do you need any help with the salad?"

Quinn shut off the water. "No, thanks. You could start the fakeon; I would have no idea how to prepare it."

As Quinn made the salad and Rachel made the tofu, the kitchen coming alive with heady smells, they made light conversation but mainly kept sneaking glances and coy smiles at each other. Quinn looked over the moon, which was exactly how Rachel felt. The inside of her stomach was coated with a delicious warmth that rose and dipped and rose again each time she and Quinn made direct eye-contact or she caught Quinn checking out her ass or Quinn caught her checking out her ass. They reached for the salt shaker at the same time, their hands brushing, and Rachel swore she heard Quinn's sharp intake of breath, as if that slight pinkie-to-pinkie contact had been her undoing.

Rachel couldn't believe it had taken her until now to realize her true feelings for Quinn. She'd always admired the blonde's beauty – perhaps too much – and had sort of obsessed over her even more than with Finn, following her around and always trying to get the opportunity to talk to her, to befriend her. Quinn's gifts to Rachel yesterday, and all of the sweet letters she'd left throughout the week, all of that combined with Quinn telling Rachel in person how she really felt – well, they were the wake-up call Rachel needed. Knowing a girl as amazing as Quinn Fabray actually, really like-liked Rachel made it okay for her to like-like her back without fear of what would happen if it wasn't reciprocated.

As Rachel grabbed the leftover container of spinach that hadn't gone into the salad, about to put it back into the refrigerator for Quinn, she was struck with a perfect idea that sent her stomach churning and veins almost popping with electric anticipation.

Rachel plucked a spinach leaf and set the bowl down, sidling up beside Quinn, who was humming cheerily to herself as she used two wooden spoons to toss the salad.

"Quinn," Rachel pressed her lips together to hide an epic smile.

She turned to Rachel with an expectant smile of her own. "Yes?"

Rachel lifted up the leaf of spinach. "I found this."

Quinn smirked with amusement and lifted her eyebrows. "Ah, yes. Quite the detective you are. It must have taken a lot of digging to find one spinach leaf amongst the pile in the bowl right behind you."

Rachel left it high above their heads and made it do a little dance; Quinn watched it, entranced, smiling as if she couldn't believe how good her luck was that the girl of her dreams was in her kitchen, waving leafy greens around like a total goober.

"I couldn't find any mistletoe," Rachel said in a voice that lilted into a flirtatious kind of innocence. "So, I improvised."

Quinn's eyes widened and then froze, right along with her smile, at the spinach-turned-mistletoe, in a manner cute and comical enough that Rachel laughed, just a little. She waved the spinach.

Quinn gulped and brought her scared eyes to Rachel. Scared, but in the exhilarated way, the adrenaline-pumping-roller-coaster kind.

"Am I going to hold my arm up all day, or are you going to ki – " Before Rachel could even finish her giggling, taunting sentence, Quinn's arms shot around Rachel's waist, looping tight and pulling her close, and two sets of plump, pretty, girlie lips met together in a slip-and-slide of nipping, tugging mouths. All giggles and words were chased from their minds by the feeling of silky, lip-balmed lips getting to know each other.

Fireworks exploded between them as if New Year's had arrived early. Their hearts zoomed, stomachs twirled with tipsy butterflies, and they felt the overwhelmingly, perfect sensation that this was right. This, kissing each other, was what they were meant to do since they first met, was what they were made to do.

Rachel dropped the spinach leaf, forgot all about it, as her eyes fluttered shut and her hands fell to Quinn's head, one tangling through soft blonde hair as the other caressed a soft pale cheek.

A little moan escaped from each as their breasts pressed and mouths dug deeper, with Quinn's tongue flicking just-so against the seam of Rachel's mouth. Quinn tightened her arms around Rachel's tiny waist, the girl's miniskirt starting to ride up as Rachel shoved her body farther against Quinn's. Her leg slipped up against the blonde's sweatpants and bucked instinctively; another moan. Quinn's impatient tongue shoved into Rachel's mouth and massaged hers hotly, wetly. Their groans turned loud, fevered with lust.

They shifted backward, legs tangling as they stumbled against the counter –there was the sound of something falling, hitting the tile with a clatter that startled them enough to break apart. They took a few steps away so they could clear their minds from the fog of deliciousness that had just encased their entire beings.

Panting to catch their breath and staring at each other with pupil-dilated, affection-scorched eyes, they stood: Quinn, her hands on her hips, and Rachel, tugging down her miniskirt to stop a peepshow.

"Wow," Quinn breathed, gulping.

"I'll say," Rachel murmured, taking a wondrously shaky breath that pulled all the way through her. She licked her lips, and Quinn's greedy eyes traced the path of the girl's tongue.

She had just kissed a girl, and she had definitely like it, but contrary to pop culture folklore, she hadn't tasted like cherry ChapStick. More like mint and vanilla and something sweet and original that could only belong to Quinn (which was much better than boring ChapStick. Take that, Katy Perry!).

"We should probably pick that up," Rachel said, nodding at the explosion of spinach, kale, tomatoes, strawberries, and blueberries that poured out of an upside-down bowl.

Quinn burst into laughter. "Oh my God! The salad!"

"A casualty from our kissing," Rachel said, cracking up with her. "We should really come with warning labels." They exchanged conspiring smiles that they both found incredibly sexy before cleaning up the mess.

They had to make another bowl of salad – which took a lot longer than it should have, when they kept pausing to steal kisses, touch each other's shoulder, stroke each other's hair, bump hips, any kind of contact whatsoever. They were insatiable, and the other girl was their biggest, no, only craving.

Finally, they were sitting at the kitchen table, each with a bowl of salad, a plate of fakeon, and a glass of water. They sat side-by-side rather than across from one another, their ankles hooked together and bodies angled to face each other on their chairs.

As they ate, they couldn't stop smiling and giggling and blushing, for no reason other than that they were with the other. Rachel kept playing with her necklace, and Quinn kept reaching over to play with Rachel's hair.

"So," Rachel said, taking a bite of the delicious salad (mmm, she could taste the healthy), "Do you like the fakeon?"

"Well, it's nothing compared to the real thing, but yeah, it's actually pretty good." Quinn took a hearty bite of it to illustrate her point. "Maybe a little bit burnt…" She tried not to wince as she tasted the char.

Rachel chuckled. "Okay, maybe I'm not the best cook…"

"Can't investigate to save her life, can't cook without burning, can't even go to a jewelry store without getting banned for life…" Quinn danced her fork around as she counted off the offenses, her tone light and playful. "What am I going to do with you?"

"You could kiss me into submission," Rachel said, so hopefully that Quinn grinned past her ears. "Show me how to be a proper lady with each kiss of your perfect lips."

"Perfect lips, huh?"

Rachel nodded and sipped from her water, eyeing Quinn over the rim.

"Your lips are pretty flawless yourself. In fact, if I hadn't been sure before, they would have convinced me that I'm one-hundred-percent into you, Rachel Berry."

"Same to you, Quinn Fabray," Rachel looked up from her eyelashes and tugged at her lower lip with her top teeth, adorably happy and excited-nervous; Quinn's face softened as she reached over a hand to smooth down Rachel's silky brown hair.

After they resumed eating, Rachel asked, "So, how long have you known you were gay?"

"Known it ever since middle school; accepted it ever since last year."

"Oh?" Rachel cocked her head, curious. She found herself wanting to know everything about Quinn. And Quinn found herself wanting to tell her everything.

"Yeah. I mean, I've felt an attraction toward you since freshman year, which I always tried to ignore, of course. That's why I was always so mean to you, which I really am sorry about."

Rachel waved a hand through the air. "Forgiven and forgotten."

"Thanks, but I still feel guilty about how awful I used to be."

"I kind of take it as a compliment, actually, knowing your passionate rage was only implemented against me because you were afraid of it being pure passion instead."

"Exactly," Quinn nodded. "So, when I joined Glee Club, I kind of got a full-blown crush on you, which of course I ignored. And then there was the whole me getting pregnant with Beth," she paused to stare down at her napkin, twisting it in her fingers and frowning.

Rachel placed her hand on top of Quinn's and curled their fingers together to steady her, loaning strength and support. Quinn looked up, frown reversing into a grateful little smile, and Rachel smiled back with gentle understanding, and tenderness in eyes.

"As you know, my parents kicked me out when I got pregnant. But the only good thing about that is that when my mom came begging me for some semblance of a relationship again, with her tail tucked between her legs and knowing she had a lot of making up to do, I knew I had the upper-hand, for once with either of my parents. So, about a week after Beth was born, when I was moving out of Mercedes' and back into my old house, this house, and I knew I could still go back to Mercedes' if I wanted to…" Quinn took a breath to compose herself, a thousand memories running through her eyes. She gripped Rachel's hand tighter; Rachel gripped back.

"I told my mom that if she wanted to have a relationship with me, it had to be the real me. So I came out to her. And…she wasn't all that shocked, actually. She just hugged me and said we'd work everything out. I told her that if I ever for a second felt she wasn't fully supporting me for who I am, or if I didn't feel cared for and wanted here, that I would move back with Mercedes. 'Cedes didn't know – still doesn't know – that I'm gay, but she did know I didn't have a good relationship with my parents, obviously, and she told me I was always welcome back to her house if my mom didn't make me feel comfortable in my own."

"And since you're still here…" Rachel trailed off.

"Since I'm still here," Quinn smiled, linking their fingers all the way together. "My mom made a complete 180 on her parenting. That's to say she actually became one." A little laugh. "She was so afraid of losing me again, especially since she doesn't have my dad as her backbone anymore, that she started reading all these parenting books, and we did some family therapy together, and she stopped drinking for good. She occasionally used to hit the bottle pretty hard, back when she and my dad would fight, which was, like, every night," Quinn added in way of explanation. Rachel nodded sympathetically.

"I'm really happy for you, Quinn. I wish I had that kind of relationship with my own mother, but hey, at least I have two amazing dads to make up for it."

"About that… Isn't it weird that your mom is my daughter's step-mom?" Quinn pulled a face. "Doesn't that make us kind of, like, related?"

Rachel chuckled and shook her head with vehemence. "Yes, it's weird, but no, if it's any kind of relation, it's in the most distant sense. Trust me."

"Wait, so when I was making-out with you… I was making-out with my daughter's step-sister! I am a bad mom," Quinn laughed but then stopped and sighed.

Rachel half-chuckled, half-groaned at the humor before turning serious. "You're not a bad mom, Quinn! You gave up Beth because you felt you wouldn't be able to raise her well enough. You were only sixteen; I think you made a very brave and selfless decision."

"I'm going to reconnect with her," Quinn said, with so much conviction that Rachel almost got tears in her eyes with pride for the beautiful girl beside her, especially so on the inside and not just the out. "Shelby sends me letters; I got a holiday card a few weeks ago. In it, she asked if I wanted to see Beth over Christmas, and I'm going to say yes."

"That's great!" Rachel squealed, giving Quinn's hand a little shake. "You're getting your life together, Quinn. I'm so proud of you!"

Quinn blushed and smiled down at their joined hands. "Thanks."

"So, a few more questions," Rachel said, bubbling up with energy. "You've kept me in the dark for so long that I have quite a few mysteries I need settled."

Quinn leaned over, kissed a sweet peck to Rachel's (now blushing) cheek, and said when she sat back down, "Lay 'em on me."

"Okay, well, why did you get back together with Finn two weeks ago? Especially if you said that you accepted you were gay last year."

Quinn twisted her nose and mouth to the side, self-deprecating as she shrugged a little. "I'm not proud to admit it, but I wanted the popularity boost. But then I realized it just wasn't worth it. Kissing him gives me no sparks, and we have nothing in common, and it's not worth sacrificing who I am just for some stupid school hierarchy that won't even matter after we graduate."

"I completely agree with your wisdom. And for the record, though kissing Finn did give me sparks in the past, kissing you gave me fireworks."

"It was like the Fourth of July," Quinn agreed.

They giggled; Quinn lifted their hands up and brushed kisses to the back of Rachel's knuckles.

"I'm so glad you like me," Rachel said, sniffling a little with happy tears. It was a blurt of affection, so adorable with its earnestness that Quinn guffawed.

"Of course I do! What's not to like? You're perfect."

Rachel beamed but then sighed. "I wish we hadn't wasted the past two and a half years being frenemies."

"Me too," Quinn's eyes sparkled, "But that just means we'll have to make up for lost time."

Rachel tittered. "I like the sound of that." She took another bite of food, chewed thoughtfully, and swallowed. "So, why now? Why did you decide to tell me how you felt now, of all times?"

"I honestly wasn't planning on it; I was still too afraid to imagine your rejection. But I prayed about it for a while, and then when I got you for Secret Santa, it was like a sign that I needed to do it."

"Well, for the record, I'm glad you did," Rachel winked.

"Same here."

They clinked their water glasses together.

"Now I have to ask you, what made you realize that you like me?" asked Quinn. "I'm assuming you do, as more than a friend, considering that epic kiss we just had."

"Oh, yes, I do. And I think I've always had a crush on you, but I was too obsessed with Finn and using him as a decoy to realize it. I mean, it's not as devastating at the idea of Finn not wanting me, but the idea of the goddess Quinn Fabray rejecting me… I used to think I only wanted you as a friend, and you always denied my offers of friendship, so…" A dainty shrug; a frown from Quinn. "I guess imagining you denying offers of further feelings were too horrible for even my dramatic being to bear."

"I'm sorry I was such an idiot," Quinn said with a sigh of regret.

"Don't be," Rachel shook her head. "Everything happens for a reason, right? Maybe it needed to take us longer to get together, so we could appreciate it more."

"Well, whatever the reason, I will say this," Quinn lifted her glass high in the air and turned a grateful glance to the ceiling. "Santa is one awesome matchmaker."

"I'll second that," Rachel toasted their glasses again, and they laughed, sharing bright smiles.

They ate the rest of their food, parting hands tragically to do so, falling into easy conversation and laughter. It was the lightest either girl had ever felt in their entire lives, like they could drift away on a sudden burst of laughter or gust of air.


After they cleaned up and put away their dishes, Quinn made hot chocolate. Though it wasn't vegan, there were certain things Rachel caved to every once in a while, as long as it didn't contain meat or eggs, and one of those things was non-vegan chocolate.

They added whipped cream and sprinkles and cherries and all the works to their mugs, stirring them with peppermint sticks, wiping whipped cream on each other's noses (and then licking it off). They giggled like schoolgirls, flirted and teased and felt filled to bursting with pure, unadulterated happiness.

Rachel got to meet Buttercup, but she was too rambunctious – nearly spilling the hot cocoa in Rachel's hands – that the dog had to go back outside. Now, the two girls sat thigh-to-thigh on the couch, sipping their drinks and watching TV.

"When should we start our book club?" Quinn asked, eyes falling to the Agatha Christie novel sitting on the loveseat beside them.

"How about after the New Year?"

"Sounds good to me. Maybe we could invite 'Cedes, too? I miss hanging out with her."

"You must have gotten really close with her last year, huh? Living at her house and all." Rachel tried not to sound too jealous.

"Yeah, she's one of my closest friends," Quinn smiled. "But I like you more than a friend, so no pouting, okay?" She kissed that plump mouth to turn that frown upside-down; it worked like a charm, Rachel smiling against her lips as she returned the soft, lingering pressure of the kiss.

Quinn snaked a hand behind Rachel's head and deepened the smooch with a skillful, delving tongue. They tasted hot chocolate and peppermint and the even sweeter taste of the other. Rachel felt her heart zip to her toes, spill out on the floor in a warm, joyful pool.

When their lips smacked apart, Rachel said with a goofy-giddy grin, "There's actually one more present I got you, but I wanted to wait until the perfect moment to give it to you. And I think that perfect moment is now."

"You think?" Quinn raised her eyebrows, and this time, cupped Rachel's face with her hands, kissing her so hard and claiming that Rachel's whole world turned wondrously dizzy and she could barely even kiss Quinn back because she was too busy focusing on not passing out.

Quinn kissed both of Rachel's flushed cheeks and then her forehead before leaning back, and even then she left an arm twined around Rachel's shoulders.

"Okay, I know," Rachel amended breathlessly, eyes fluttering open to find Quinn biting at her lip and staring at Rachel like all she wanted to do for the rest of her life was kiss her.

Rachel kissed Quinn's shoulder as she pulled her arm away from her own shoulders, and then hopped to her feet and bounded over to her coat on the loveseat. She pulled out the little black velvet box from the pocket and then stepped over to Quinn, her face alight with a bashfulness so adorable that Quinn leaned forward with her elbows on her knees and danced her fingers against her beaming mouth as she gazed dreamily back at her.

"Quinn Fabray, it took me too long to find you, but now that I have, I never want to lose you. You are everything I could ever want; if I had to choose between being stuck in an elevator with you or Barbra, I would pick you. That is how I know you're The One."

"The One, huh?" Quinn danced her head from side-to-side, but eyes remained glowing and steady.

"Well, yeah! Kissing you is like singing a solo to an audience – it's the best feeling in the world, and I know it's what I was meant to do. When you know, you just know," Rachel's eyes widened emphatically.

Quinn's dreamy sigh worked all the way up her body. "Am I dreaming?"

"I assure you this is very much real. Would you like me to pinch you?"

"Depends which part of my body you're talking about," Quinn winked; Rachel giggled.

"Quinn Fabray," Rachel took a deep breath and dropped to one knee as she popped open the little velvet box. Inside was a ring with a white-gold band and a beautiful, glittering oval emerald on top. "Will you do me the profound honor of being my girlfriend?"

"Are you kidding me?! Of course! Of course!" Quinn broke into giddy giggle-breaths and offered her right hand; grinning from ear to ear, her own hand shaking, Rachel took the liberties of sliding the ring onto Quinn's ring finger. A perfect fit.

Quinn held up her hand to the light and tilted the ring every which way, watching as its deep, gorgeous greenness glittered with little pinpoints of light. It took her breath away – and the sight of Quinn's loving reaction took Rachel's breath away.

"I got you an emerald," she explained after a moment, when Quinn's adoring gaze returned to hers, "Because they're the only jewel that comes close to matching the beauty of your eyes. Seriously, your eyes are amazing."

"I love it," Quinn's voice was soft but eyes were softer, and smile was practically supernova. "It's… It's perfect, Rach! You are perfect!" She held out her arms, tears in her eyes. "Come here!"

Rachel returned to her spot beside Quinn on the couch, warm tears now poking her own eyes. They kissed, building in pressure, lips slip-and-sliding along with their fluttering hearts.

"Don't say I never got you anything pretty," Rachel giggled, her sweet, heated breath tickling Quinn's mouth. Quinn kissed her to chase away the sensation. "Did I redeem myself from the socks?"

"I would say so," Quinn grinned against plump lips. "I would definitely say so."

They snuggled together on the couch under a blanket, holding hands and using their free ones to sip their hot chocolate as they watched a cute, Christmas-themed romantic-comedy movie that came on TV.

"We're going about this all backwards," Rachel said, eyes closed against the soothing sensation of Quinn playing with her hair. "We've both done the declarations of love, the first kiss, and we've even officially become girlfriend-and-girlfriend."

"But…"

"But, we haven't gone on a first date yet."

"Every Christmas, my mom, Dad, and I always see Bacon on Ice! We have VIP season passes," said Quinn, in the too-casual tone of someone who was proposing an idea they had really been thinking about for a while. "Now that my dad's out of the picture – and I'm better for it, trust me – well… Would you like to go with us, Rachie?" Her fingers stroked Rachel from temple to tip, running through silky dark-brown, and Rachel was so distracted with the relaxation that it took her a delayed reaction to burst out a laugh rife with mirth.

"Oh my God! Bacon on Ice! is actually a real thing? I thought Finn was making that up. But, yes, I would love and be honored to go with you… As long as I don't have to actually eat any bacon while there."

"You won't," Quinn assured her, then gave a little squeal of excitement. "It will be so fun! Though I must warn you, I will be eating all the bacon-food I can get my hands on… Bacon cake, bacon soup, bacon hot chocolate… And my favorite, bacon wrapped in bacon friend in bacon and then dipped in bacon bits."

Rachel was cracking up. "You have got to be making that up, Quinn!"

Rachel's laugh was so contagious that Quinn guffawed with her. "No! I promise, I'm not. If you're going to date me, you're going to have to love me for all my little quirks and obsessions."

"Hey, if you agree to handle monthly Barbra movie marathons, then I can handle your love for bacon." Rachel's eyes opened as she looked at Quinn, both of their faces beaming.

"Deal!" Quinn sealed it with a nod.

"You know," Rachel said, lifting a finger to twirl around a lock of soft blonde, "If you're going to be chowing down on dead animal carcasses throughout our date" (a whack on the air and a little scoff from Quinn) "then I'm not going to be able to kiss you afterward." She pouted an adorable pout.

"Well then," Quinn's eyes gleamed. "I guess we better kiss now to make up for it, huh?"

"It's like you're reading my mind," Rachel's eyes widened and head danced. She slung her arms around Quinn's neck, and Quinn brought her arms up around Rachel's middle, resting her hands against the small of her back.

They kissed, and it was like fireworks all over again, and it would always be like fireworks all over again, because their chemistry was circuited toward the other. They were each other's The One, no doubt about it.

…And up in the North Pole, a jolly-bellied fellow dressed all in red with white trim sat behind an oak desk. He stroked a long curly white beard and watched the scene unfold in the giant clear globe on his desk, the one labeled 'LIMA, OHIO.'

He chuckled merrily and his portly stomach wobbled and jiggled like a bowl full of jelly. Taking a beautiful quill, he dipped it in ink and put a checkmark next to 'Berry, Rachel' and then 'Fabray, Quinn' on a large parchment scroll labeled 'NICE.' It was the best present he could have given either of them: the other. You didn't think they just happened to draw each other for Secret Santa, now did you? Santa's got moves. (Wait until Cupid hears about this at the next Mythical Creatures Support Group Meeting. He's going to be so jealous! He's been working on the Berry-Fabray Case for ages, but Santa Claus finally gave them the push they needed.)

"Careful, girls," he smiled and jokingly tsk'd as their kisses turned more heated, "Or you're going to go on the 'Naughty' list with your friends Noah and Santana." Such a shame that a girl with half his namesake in hers would turn out to be such a lump-of-coal magnet…especially when her girlfriend, Brittany, was always the first name he wrote on the 'Nice List' each year, alphabetical order be damned.

His work here done with Rachel and Quinn (and not wanting to be a voyeur), he clapped his meaty, white-gloved hands and the globe filled with whirling bits of snow before fading away to reveal yet another couple in 'Lima, Ohio' that he had brought together this Christmas. Kurt and Blaine looked into each other's eyes adoringly, linking fingers with one hand and holding their microphones with the other as they sang 'Santa, Baby' to a dancing crowd at a mall.

Santa started dancing in his chair and singing along, eyes closed as he thrust his forefingers at the air. "I've been an awful good girrll..." He giggled, stood up, and shook his big red booty. "Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!" he cheered.

"Not until next week, Kris," Mrs. Claus shouted from the couch, where she knitted a scarf for one of the little boys who'd asked for it on their Christmas List. "And you know I think that song's offensive."

Santa walked over to his wife, planting a sweet kiss to her forehead. "Sorry, dear, and I know it's not until next week, but I just get so excited!"

"I'll feed the reindeer," Mrs. Claus smiled up at him; he bonked her nose and she crinkled it teasingly back at him, "But it's your turn to make us lunch."

'Patriarchal rein ingrained in Western society' my sleigh! Santa thought. That really had hurt his feelings for Rachel to say that – if only she knew how he and Mrs. Claus worked together. But it's okay, even the nicest people can sometimes be a bit naughty.

Speaking of Rachel and her girlfriend…

"How about some bacon?" Santa asked. "Of all things, I've got the strongest craving for it…"