Santana might talk a big game about her exploits with Puck, but Quinn, who still can't shake that image of a broken and frozen Santana on her front porch from her mind, knows the real story. Brittany, on the other hand, is a girl who likes to have sex. A lot. And she doesn't mind saying so.

So Quinn knows there's at least some truth to what Rachel said. But that's really not what has her so upset. What really bothers her, what keeps her awake that night replaying the scene in her head, is the way Rachel said it. Quinn's seen Rachel get that way in Glee Club before, of course – making her impassioned pleas for better song selections and more solos.

But she's never had that passion, that defiance, directed at her.

It's terrifying.

Quinn realizes for the first time that Rachel Berry isn't just some nymph, some phantom, some waking manifestation of her dreams. Rachel Berry is an actual person, and what's more, she's a person Quinn can't control. It's a major flaw in her survival plan, and one she can't really believe she overlooked.

It's clear that none of the anonymous degradation she's heaped on Rachel in the last few weeks have made a dent in the brunette's determination. It's time for a more direct approach, which is why she finds herself standing a breath away from Rachel the next morning, trembling and heaving with an unbearable mix of anger and fear.

"You need to stay away from Finn," she says, hoping the slight tremor in her voice will go unnoticed.

Rachel has the audacity to roll her eyes as she responds confidently, "I assure you my interest in Finn is purely musical. It's important for the team that I have a male lead worthy of my talents."

"And you think that's Finn?" Quinn hears herself saying, disbelief coloring her voice. "Let's get real for a second. The boy's got about as much talent as a boiled potato."

She watches as Rachel's mouth drops open and at least a dozen emotions flicker across her face faster than Quinn can name them. Shock? Horror? Disappointment? Rage?

"Alright. It's true," Rachel says, cocking her head to one side and looking into Quinn's eyes with an almost tangible sincerity. "Maybe I do have romantic motives, but you obviously have nothing to worry about."

Now it's Quinn's turn to be shocked. Everything's still for a second, silent. Rachel's shoulders drop ever so slightly, and her gaze shifts to the floor before she continues, quietly, "You're the prettiest girl at this school, Quinn. Any boy would be a fool to choose me over you."

There's a tightness in her chest, and Quinn feels like a string pulled taut, like the slightest move would cause a resounding eruption of sound, of tears. Her hands struggle at her sides with the urge to lift Rachel's chin, caress her cheek. And the thought of what might come after that makes her light-headed. So Quinn turns her back and prepares to walk away, finally saying with a sharp gasp of breath, "I wouldn't underestimate what a fool he is."

For a long time afterwards, she replays the interaction, – the first time they'd ever spoken to each other directly – and aches with regret. And as she recalls every mysterious shift of Rachel's countenance, she comes to terms with the fact that the object of her obsessions is a girl she doesn't really know at all, and probably never will.