A/N: The reviews were wonderful, they wrote this.

Seven

Rachel was brash, bossy and a little abrasive. She substituted bravado for her conspicuous lack of height and her personal mantra of Broadway or die predictably scared off the majority of the general population. She ate weird food and dressed in unusual clothes. Her propensity to talk likened her to a broken recording of an audio James Joyce novel and when it came to her career, she was as self-serving as they come.

And yet, even with a list like that, restraint—or lack there of—was what Rachel liked to think of as her biggest character flaw. It was almost incomprehensible to most, if they stuck around long enough to ask, but then Rachel was a complicated person to understand.

She just wanted things, wanted things so much that she allowed herself to overlook the obvious in favour of attaining what she most coveted. That relentless need to grasp at her heart's ever fluctuating desire had quite possibly left her a little crazy in the end because she still went into the same situations fully expecting different results.

So while Rachel stood there listening to Noah blather on about the possibility of getting sausage and ham on one McMuffin, she already knew she wasn't going to go with him. Sure McDonald's had recently added a delicious selection of smoothies to their beverages menu—and Rachel had previously pledged to sample said additions in their entirety—but any thoughts of fruity drinks were derailed the moment Quinn had run passed.

The blonde had looked sick, incongruously pale instead of an unappealing shade of green. News had gotten around—Kurt had told Mercedes, who consequently had no volume control at all—that the Cheerios were spotted pulling a sleigh bound Sue Sylvester along the trails in the woods behind the Hummel residence a little before dawn and Rachel's flare for the dramatic had her almost convinced that Quinn Fabray lay all but dead behind the bathroom door.

Noah still hadn't seemed to notice her preoccupation and when his watch beeped signaling the top of the hour, he pushed off the locker to the left of hers that he'd been leaning on.

"Dude, we got to go before the bell. It doesn't matter to me but you're all one with the truancy cops, so..." Noah trailed off in favour of following his own advice until he realized Rachel wasn't following him. "Are you coming or what?"

Rachel shook her head, more so in an attempt to rid her eyes of their absent sheen but it doubled as prelude to her answer as well. "I wouldn't know them by name if they weren't posted outside your house every morning. Besides, making them cookies is only proper etiquette when practicing the art of good hospitality, Noah. I'm also going to have to pass on breakfast in favour of procuring the sheet music for our chosen song in preparation of the practice after school. Being prepared will further serve as incentive for Mr. Schue to see the benefits of our choice and I think it would only be prudent of me to give myself ample time just incase."

Noah looked dumbfounded but carelessly shrugged his shoulders seconds later. "Whatever, Rach, I'm out. Good luck with it or whatever."

Rachel breathed a sigh of relief, as she watched him go, until she was reminded of his tendency to loiter without her. "You better come back in time for first period!"

Noah just waved his hand dismissingly over his head and Rachel, deciding that it was the best response she was going to get from him, turned to shut her locker door. Books and purse in hand, she made her way toward the bathroom, reasoning that her entering said room wouldn't be out of the ordinary at all.

Once inside, Rachel didn't immediately see the blonde anywhere. She decided that was a good sign until she heard the unpleasant sounds that thwarted her chances at Bulimia just as much as her lack of a gag reflex did. Sue Sylvester had run the poor girl to illness and Rachel's heart clenched briefly in response.

She pulled out the gum and water bottle she had in her purse while she waited. When the toilet flushed, Rachel strengthened up and looked in the mirror attempting nonchalance. Noah said she was too high strung for it—when she asked him to teach her in a bid to hone her skills as an actor—but besides a brief stutter step, Quinn hadn't done a thing so far.

Seconds ticked by—Quinn had started moving again but the Diva wasn't sure where—until Rachel finally determined that enough time had passed to sell her presence as casual coincidence. She turned to look at the blonde and found her all the way on the other side of the room, having put as many sinks as possible between them.

"Oh, hello, Quinn," exclaimed Rachel, completely convincing in her surprise as she was sure the critics would agree. "I'd ask you how your morning had been thus far but I unknowingly answered that question just seconds ago when I walked in."

Unfortunately, her accomplished performance hadn't prepared her for the possibility of Quinn ignoring her. The blonde just continued on with fixing her makeup in the mirror like the brunette wasn't even there and Rachel's entire body snapped to attention as if she were a tiny foot solider getting ready to march.

"You know, you don't have to be so rude. I was only going to offer you a bottle of water and gum to help with the nausea." When Quinn still gave no sign that she was actually listening, Rachel balled her hands into fists and decided on a different tactic. "Acknowledging people when they are conversing with you are the kind of manors I'd expect someone like you to be fully versed in. Apparently, I was wrong."

Quinn's eyes snapped to hers in seconds and a familiar burst of frustration and nerves rocketed its way through Rachel's body. It was always like this with the blonde, ever since Rachel joined Quinn's kindergarten class and refused to share her gold star stickers. Quinn Fabray only ever spoke to her with a raised voice and a variety of glares. Today's seemed to be a mix between conceit and outrage, much to Rachel's displeasure.

"Someone like me?" Quinn sneered, the blonde's slender body instantly coiling for a brawl. "You mean somebody who actually has a life and friends that I didn't have to have Puck threaten into liking me? Yeah, that does sound like me, I can't say the same for you though, Manhands."

Rachel's jaw clenched to stop whatever was bubbling up to the surface while Quinn was still poised to strike. Every part of her that Rachel could see looked as razor-sharp as broken glass, completely out of place for a body cloaked in cheer. The back of Rachel's throat yearned for a sip from the bottle in her hands but she refused to back down. Noah regretted not standing up to his father everyday and Rachel was determined not to break the promise she made him to never allow herself to feel the same.

"If you must insult me, you should reconsider your position next time," Rachel stated with a most deliberate crossing of her arms. "Give or take a few words and mentioning Sue Sylvester's school wide reign of terror, being her minion seems a lot like the life you accused me of having."

Quinn gritted her teeth and Rachel was wondering if she went too far when the blonde stepped toward her, closing their gap to two sinks instead of three.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" Quinn leaning forward in mock inquisition only irritated Rachel further, so it was relatively simple to push her uneasiness aside. "I was too busy trying to figure out if you were wearing earrings or if your nose just had it's own gravitational pull. I came to the conclusion that something so large couldn't possibly get away with defying gravity like I'm sure you hoped."

Rachel resisted the urge to reach up and announce her insecurities to the venomous viper that was closing in fast. Quinn was moving again and they were facing off at opposing ends of only one cheap slab of porcelain in no time.

"Quinn," she started, pausing only temporarily to square her shoulders, "it isn't healthy to bottle up so much aggression and unleash it on the people around you. I can only imagine what the stress of holding that in is doing to your body, especially if you're getting sick. Please at least take the water, as I fear the repercussions of dehydration settling in."

The cheerleader's eyes flitted down to the bottle in Rachel's hand before re-aiming the daggers back at the tiny brunette's face. "Stubbles, I'm not drinking anything contaminated by your man hands, now get the hell out of my face."

"Quinn, I assure you my hands can do no such thing." Rachel moved to place the water and the gum packet on the side of the sink between them before looking back up at dark hazel eyes. "I'll leave both items behind, just incase you change your mind. Your health should be of upmost importance to you, especially when adolescence is the most important stage of the body's development."

Something out of place momentarily swirled in the blonde's tempestuous gaze before Rachel turned away to the door. The Diva really couldn't be sure what it was but it certainly didn't belong. In dark weighty waters, it had only just managed to surface so briefly that Rachel knew what she had seen was something she shouldn't have.

Quinn rolled her eyes, her arms bowed with her hands gripping her hips. "Do you ever leave, Manhands, or are you a fun-sized disease that never goes away?"

Rachel stopped and looked back, taking in the blonde's angry eyes, rage-thinned lips and abnormally pale complexion. She supposed that almost failing to remember that Quinn had been throwing up moments before had been what the cheerleader was after with her atrociously harsh words, but Rachel hadn't forgotten. She was still just as worried about the other girl's wellbeing as she had been before, maybe more so since Quinn didn't look to be interested in caring for herself at all.

"Drink the water, Quinn," she sighed before continuing her walk to the door.

Once in the hall, Rachel pledged to keep an eye on the blonde; at least until she was sure Quinn was taking care of herself. It was what Rachel did for people she cared about, even for somebody like Quinn Fabray who had no interest in caring for her back.