Disclaimer: I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride

Pairing: Eventual Quinn/Rachel
Spoilers: Anything up has already aired.
Rated: R for language

A/N: Well…still Unbeta'd. Sorry for all mistakes, feel free to point them out. Reviews would still be very much appreciated, as we all know authors live off of them, even part time authors like moi. And I still love popcorn.

A/N 2: Just getting their day started here. Sorry this is a little shorter, but well, my team is on and they are playing dreaded Chelsea, who are on top of the league. So far, amazingly, we are WINNING (so far...and imagine me saying that like Tom Hanks in A League of Our Own..) So Yay. I have to go drink out of my Liverpool beer mug now. If they win, perhaps I shall write more. ;) So everybody say Come on you Reds! And I hope I didn't just jinx them. Not that I'm superstitious or anything, sitting here with my Liverpool jersey and my Liverpool scarf on about to drink out of my Liverpool pint glass, after I had my coffee out of my Liverpool coffee mug or anything.


Rachel listened to the GPS give her monotone turn by turn directions.

Arriving at destination. On left.

She pulled up to the nice upper middle class house. The two hard wood trees still had a thin majority of their burgundy and red leaves. She pulled ample driveway that had room for three or four cars.

She pulled in behind Quinn's silver Jetta. She pulled her hair out of its loose ponytail and ran her fingers through it to smooth it out. She just liked it out of the way when she was walking Po, since that little job required her to bend over and pick up things in bags. An incident once involving a gust of wind and a simultaneous 'bagging' had required a rather curtailed visit and a second shampoo that morning.

Walking to the left side of the house, she glanced at the front door. She wondered if she was being paranoid about Quinn not wanting anyone to know she was coming over to her house. She shrugged and knocked on the small off set mudroom door.

Quinn had been watched Rachel pull up to the house, and pause, and pull in. She observed her carefully take down her GPS and stow it, and take her hair out of a ponytail. Odd. She got out of the car, and Quinn was shocked to see her not in a cutsie skirt, but in jeans and a pea coat and scarf. For once, she looked more J. Crew than OshKoshB'Gosh. Quinn nodded approvingly, and prepared to casually get up when she knocked.

Rachel knocked on the door. Through the glass on the door, she could see pegs on the side wall for coats. There was Quinn's Letterman jacket, just like Finn's. The door to the actual house opened and Quinn motioned her to open the outside door, which apparently wasn't locked.

"Hi Berry. I always come in this way when it gets cold out. You can leave your coat and your scarf out here if you want, but if you'd rather bring it in, we have a coat rack in here too."

"Here's fine." She smiled. At least the back door didn't feel like the servants' entrance anymore. "This is great. We don't have mud room. We all just trek in a mess when it snows and mop it up."

"Yeah, it's nice to have sometimes. Here, I'll take your bag in then, there's not a ton of room in there." She reached for her book bag.

"Damn Berry, what do you have in here. Frankenstein is like half an inch thick!"

"Oh, just notebooks. Ideas for songs… "she trailed off.

Quinn nodded. "Of course". She watched Rachel shimmy out of her blue coat, and then unwind the deep burgundy berry hued chenille scarf, and hang it with her coat. She followed Quinn into the kitchen.

"Cute scarf Berry."

She watched Rachel eyebrows go up in shock, and her mouth curve into a pleased but shy smile. She found herself thinking she liked the lower watt smile better than the fake ones.

"Thank you. It was a gift."

Quinn screwed up her face in puzzlement? "From Finn? Sorry, it's none of my business."

Rachel let a little barked laugh come out.

"No, no it's fine. And again, nooo, not from Finn. Please. My dads got it for me. It's uh berry colored..?"

"Ah…of course, I see that now."

"Well, you know, the thing about having two gay dads and stereotypes? My dads do, in fact, have pretty good taste."

Quinn opened her mouth. She was *this* close to making a comment about argyle. But she shut before it came out.

Rachel was not oblivious to this. She arched her eyebrow and clasped her hands in front of her. "Why the argyle you're wondering I take it?"

"I...no." Quinn pulled in her lips and held them between her teeth and shook her head slowly in a transparent attempt at denial. "I was just thinking again that that is one lovely scarf."

"Uh huh. Well thank you. I like my argyle. It's a tradition."

Quinn gave her a lopsided smile. "I know you do, Berry, I know you do. A tradition huh? I'd like to hear that sometime."

"Perhaps." The diva grinned. Quinn looked at her and shook her head. You are an odd girl Rachel Berry she thought to herself. Where was the motor mouth she had grown accustomed to?

"Well, alright, be mysterious that way. Mercedes and Kurt will be here in a little bit, about noon. My mom left me with a little money if we want to order a pizza. You're not, like, totally vegan are you?"

"Nope" she shook her head. "I am not yet so evolved. I do eat dairy if you're wondering about cheese. I'm still growing you know, and it does a body good and all that." The diva smiled and walked to the kitchen island, slowly turning around taking in her surroundings.

Quinn watched her, never having seen the other girl not dressed in something at least mildly offensive. The fifteen year old boy in Quinn, that she had been heretofore unaware of came to the surface. The jeans fit her just right, and her butt looked…yes, yes milk does indeed do a body good. Eeep!

She was glad the other girl was facing away from her, and so didn't notice the probably obvious look of horror that came over her face as she reeled in rogue thoughts.

To cover her mental lapse and to try to pull her back into more familiar territory, she teased her a little.

"One can only hope that the miracle of dairy will add a few more inches for you 'half-pint'".

Rachel turned and cocked an eyebrow, smiling ruefully. "No amount of milk is going to make me…statuesque shall we say. Alas." She stuck out her tongue with good humor.

"Well," she the blond added lamely "Finn doesn't seem to be worried about it."

She shrugged. She used to like Finn being so large.

"He's generally a good guy Berry."

"That he is. He has him moments though. I still cannot believe he kicked you out. I'm sorry about how he treated you." She hesitated. "I think you're one of the good guys too Quinn."

Quinn chuffed. "He had his reasons."

Rachel narrowed her eyes a bit and seemed about to speak and then shut her mouth again. She finally spoke. "You're entitled to your opinion on that."

The Head Cheerio shrugged. "Water under the bridge Berry, right? I assure you it's nothing I want to sing about in front of the group. How about you?

"No, decidedly not."

"Good, then we're agreed on that."

"I was going to make some hot chocolate while we wait for Mercedes and Kurt. Or maybe tea. Nothing fancy here, Swiss Miss, or some Irish breakfast tea. Interested?"

"That sounds nice. Whichever you're having will be fine."

Quinn shrugged. "I'm just heating up some water in the kettle, it can go either way at that point I do believe."

"Well…."

She laughed, "Well what Berry?"

"Well, I have a tendency sometimes…to see what someone else is having, and then I know whether I want it or not."

Quinn finished filling the kettle, nodding with a grimace. "You know, Berry, I don't think I want to touch that statement with a ten foot pole."

"What? Oh. I meant food."

"So did I."

"No you didn't."

"You know, you are as bad as Santana for calling bullshit, aren't you? Okay, Sorry. I take it back, I really just couldn't resist…poking at you. A bad habit now I know. I'm trying to break it."

Rachel lowered herself onto a kitchen stool, quietly watching Quinn move around the kitchen for the next few moments. Quinn noticed.

"What? "

"Nothing, I just was thinking."

"About? Some of us don't have a Sixth Sense."

"Frankenstein."

"Deft change of subject."

Rachel smiled, and cupped her chin in her hand.

"Not really. I was thinking of the theme of outsiders."

"Ah. Hold that thought."

The kettle was just thinking about starting to whistle, so Quinn found a protective cozy, and pulled it off the stove. She turned to Rachel.

"I hate to be a bad host, but can you get us some mugs?"

"Don't be silly, of course." She hopped off the stool. "Hey, they're not like on the top shelf are they, because munchkin that I am, I'd need a step ladder."

"Dork. No there they are…to your right. Your other right. There you go."

Rachel reached up and grabbed two oversized mugs. One green and one blue.

"Hm. I think I'll be bold and decide now. I'll take the hot chocolate."

"Good choice. Me too. Can you get the packets and pour them in the mugs? I'll add the water."

Rachel walked over to the kitchen island again, and looked in the full box of Swiss Miss, and pulled her lips up in grin that Quinn couldn't see.

"Oh dear, there is only one packet left. That's a shame. I had my heart set on it."

"What? Mom just got that on Tuesday. There should be plenty—"

"Gotcha." The little diva grinned proudly.

Quinn looked at her completely non-plussed. Rachel's grin faltered a little. Then Quinn giggled shaking her head. "Wow. Someone is feisty today." The grin returned full force, and Quinn grinned back at her, still shaking her head.

"If you can't stand the heat get out of the kitchen?"

Quinn gave her the patented arched eyebrow and a smile over the steam from the kettle, amused.

"I'm shaking in my house shoes over here Berry. Why don't you make yourself useful and pour the mix in the mugs, and we can drink to a truce."

"That sounds prudent at this juncture." the brunette agreed with a confident smile.


Mercedes pulled into the driveway behind Rachel's car. Kurt looked at the front door.

"Impressive. If predictable."

"Yeah, it's nice inside. Quinn says it's homier now than it used to be now that her anal retentive Stepford Father is gone."

They exited the car. "Come on, we'll go through the mud room. The front is all formal and foyer and great room and shit."

She looked at Kurt, who looked disappointed. "Don't worry, I'm sure you can take a look around once you get inside."

He perked up then.

"Oh. My. God. Do you see what I see?"

"What?"

He jutted his chin towards the kitchen window. "Is it me, or do they look like some International Coffee couple 'celebrating the moments of their lives' here at Chez Fabray?"

Mercedes gaped and nodded. Through the window, she could see Quinn and Rachel sitting at the breakfast nooks, in profile. It was true. They were bent over over-sized mugs, leaning in towards each other, looking like they were old friends having a private joke.

"Wow. I don't even know what to—just wow. Well, the season of miracle IS just about on us."

Kurt wanted to make a snide comment about miracles, but he held his tongue. Mercedes, and everyone, including Rachel and Quinn, had really come through for him. They may have attributed it to their various versions of deity, and he didn't care. As far as he was concerned they, and his dad and the hospital were the miracle. And he had made a promise to himself, in this one area, that he would respect their beliefs and not tromp on them to make a pithy point. So he toned it down these days.

"Why does the End of Days feel more appropriate then? That has *got* to be as chummy as I've ever seen them." Kurt wasn't sure what to make of it, but at least it didn't look like they were in for a tense afternoon. A weird one perhaps though, he thought to himself.

"Well, well this is interesting indeed. My Spidey Senses are tingling here, Mary Jane."

"You not did not just call me Mary Jane."

"Oh go with it. Let's get inside, my ears are getting cold.

"Okay, that I can agree with."

What is going on here, they both privately wondered?


A/N Thanks to everyone for all the wonderful reviews, thanks! Uh, does anyone think maybe I should raise the rating to M. Which is not me asking you, do you think I should write more M stuff, I'm just wondering if I should have already had an M. doh. *shrug*

Please continue to feed the Review Monster. ; )