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Chapter Nine: Imagine Me and Q

He was there to break the bad news. Usually he didn't mind being the messenger. That day, it bothered him. But it was a preemptive strike. Rachel couldn't be the one to do it. Because Rachel would lie. She'd go in there being a Negative Nancy and Quinn would be heartbroken and discouraged and Jesse couldn't have that. He needed the blonde to know. To realize exactly what she was getting herself into. And he knew Quinn would ride the wave; he just had to convince her.

"You wanted to talk?"

"Why are you in the bathroom?"

"It's my office. Talk fast." Quinn stepped aside and took a seat on the lip of the tub as Jesse stood just inside the small space. Her eyebrow was quirked and for a moment Jesse seriously wanted to just leave because that icy look of hers always made him feel like a boy. But he stayed.

"I have a script." Jesse took the rolled up screenplay out of his back pocket and handed it over to the suspicious blonde.

"Seriously? You came here to give me a script?" Jesse shrugged as he looked around the bathroom; it was freaking scary how clean it was.

"One of Rachel's NYU friends gave it to me. It's too late to enter it into Sundance but perhaps next year. I'm sorry…but did you do this?" Jesse asked, barely holding back his laughter as he inspected the soaps; all neatly piled on top of one another in quite an artistic way.

"Shut up." Quinn mumbled as she rolled her eyes. She had a lot of time on her hands. So what? She got creative with hand soap. Big deal.

"Anyway. It's a war film. Now, I'm not exactly excited to be working with NYU film students, having a degree at UCLA, myself, however, I can make an exception."

"That's a lovely story." Quinn mumbled sarcastically as she inspected her nails. "How is she?" She whispered, suddenly desperate to know.

"As a paying client, I thought we'd get through business first, if you don't mind?"

"Well I do mind. So start talking." Jesse rolled his eyes and leaned back against the door as he folded his arms and crossed his legs at the ankle.

"She's…better. I don't know what changed but yesterday when I stopped by she was busy on the computer, humming." Quinn nodded slowly at the news. On the computer…humming?

"What was she doing on the computer, exactly?" Quinn asked, needing to know.

But Jesse only shrugged. "Can we talk about the script now? It's a war film; a period piece with-"

"No." Quinn said, cutting the boy off.

"But you haven't even heard the whole plot yet. It's a war film with a love story interwoven-"

"Absolutely not." Quinn deadpanned as she crossed her arms.

"Quinn!"

"Uh, uh, uh." Quinn mocked as she wagged her finger. Jesse growled as his jaw clenched.

"Fine. Ms. Fabray!"

"Better."

Jesse rolled his eyes again as he stood up straight. "Why not? It's a war film! I get to carry a musket, Quinn! A musket!"

"Don't call me Quinn and I don't care that you get to carry a musket. A film student doing a war film—a period piece no less—is as absurd as a dog doing a documentary on humans." Quinn mumbled as she leafed through the script. She suddenly scoffed as she read the first page. "Jesse, the opening line is, 'the autumn breeze stirred my senses as I gazed, lost, in the fiery embers of my soul.' You cannot seriously want to do this trash." She tossed the script and the floor and leaned back on the tub, bracing her hands on the opposite lip.

"A musket!"

"You're not putting your name on this. Forget it."

"Fine. Are you at least coming Saturday to Ainsley's? He called both Rachel and me yesterday and I need my agent there." Quinn jaw tightened as she tried to keep her expression neutral. Every time Jesse said Rachel's name, a stab went right through her heart.

"I don't think that's such a good idea." Quinn breathed out as she sat up straight. Jesse raked a hand through his hair as he readied himself for what was to come. He was glad he brought the script to break the ice—only moderately bummed that Quinn didn't think he should do the movie—but wasn't sure if it was the right time to talk.

He was running out of time. It was Friday. The party was Saturday. Rachel wanted to talk to Quinn that day. He would have to spill or else his plan would be over before it began. Jesse took an uneasy seat on top of the toilet and perfected the speech he prepared.

"She's head over heels in love with you." He started. He knew he'd have to do a compliment sandwich of sorts; start with the good, add the bad, finish with more good. Jesse had to convince her and fast.

"Jesse…" Quinn breathed out, her heart aching, not wanting to hear how badly she messed up.

"I'm not done." He said as he held up his hand firmly.

"What could you possibly say to-"

"She lied in the beginning just like you did." The shut Quinn up fast. The blonde physically blanched, as if a wrecking ball just slammed into her, and her face paled considerably.

"Wh-what?"

"She lied too. But, just like you, she fell in love. She is madly in love with you. But she's hurting. I've tried to convince her that you really do love her, but she is so upset that she just doesn't believe me. I suppose her twenty years of disappointment has led her to a place where she is inclined to believe that she is un-loveable. However, we both know that's not true." Jesse wanted to keep talking. Anything to remove that awful look from the blonde's face.

"Quinn! Snap out of it!" The blonde shoot her head at Jesse's loud outburst, too caught up in the realization that everything she had known to be true just vanished. "She loves you." Jesse repeated, a hint of anger in his voice. Women and their emotions always slightly bothered Jesse. "She's just hurting. So you need to do something. Don't just sit there!"

Quinn slowly rose from the tub and ran her hand through her hair as she fingered the cross that dangled from her neck. "She lied?"

"Yes, she lied. And so did you, in case you forgot."

"Thank you, Jesse, for that reminder!" Quinn hissed as she turned on the boy.

"Well then, get your head out of your ass! Rachel is going to come talk to you today and I need you fight-ready."

"Fight-ready?" Quinn snapped.

"Yes! I need you to know that she loves you. Because she's going to walk through that door and spew some lie about never feeling anything towards you only because she is so scared of her emotions!" Quinn glanced down at the floor, arms crossed as she rocked back against the wall, deep in thought.

"She loves you. She is humiliated. And she's scared. For the first time in her whole life she felt truly special. Because of you. Then she finds out that it was all a lie. To save face, to protect herself, she's going to come here and pretend that she doesn't feel that same. I think I've managed to convince her that remaining friends with you is wise; remaining her agent and such. I used her lie against her. Quoting that if you both needed the other in the beginning then you still need each other now.

"Rachel will tell you that she forgives you for lying and ask if the two of you can move past it. She's going to put on a big, happy face and claim 'friends,' but you can't listen to it, Quinn. You can't believe her. She loves you. I'm sure of it. But agree to be just friends."

"Why?" Quinn whispered, finally looking up at the boy. She wouldn't cry. She couldn't cry in front of him.

"Because! She loves you, Quinn!" Jesse exclaimed as he flung his arms in the air. "She just needs time to trust you again. Now that it's out there—the truth that you both lied—you can start fresh! Slowly build something as friends!"

"So what, I'm just going to pretend not to love her? I'm just going to lie once again? No, Jesse, I'm not doing that to her!"

"Can't you understand? She won't listen! She is physically incapable of hearing how you really feel right now! For the last week she has been a robot. I haven't seen her cry once. She wasn't even surprised to find out that you lied! Almost as though she was waiting for the other shoe to drop all along. For you to tell her that you love her now would be a waste. She doesn't trust you.

"But if you waited. If you started out as friends, took it slowly, she'd start to heal and get to a place where she could open her heart again. You have to prove to her that you're not going anywhere. That you'll stay by her side, that it isn't all about your future and your own selfish needs. Once she can start to accept that you're with her because of her then maybe she'll start to believe that your feelings are genuine. But that's going to take time, Quinn, and no John Hughes-like speech or grand gesture is going to prove it to her; only time."

Quinn had listened to each word and weighed it against what she knew of the diva. The blonde hated to admit it, but Jesse was right. She would need time to prove it to Rachel. She could hardly be upset that the girl had lied to her in the beginning—Quinn was very aware that she took advantage of the diva when she was at her worst. She also knew that she couldn't pull a Jesse, or Finn, or Shelby. What Rachel needed was someone at her side to really show that they were in the diva's corner. And Quinn wanted to be that person. She hated not being around Rachel; not knowing if the brunette was taken care of, eating right, sleeping, exercising, memorizing her lines, or properly defended against whatever was thrown the diva's way. Every good thing Quinn had already done was now negated. The proposal, getting her roles, going to her classes, cooking, cleaning, the works. It was all wrapped up in a lie. Time was the only thing that could really convince Rachel that Quinn wanted to be with her.

Something akin to relief swam over the blonde at that moment. And before she could stop herself, she was laughing.

Jesse's eyebrows shot up at the sight of Quinn Fabray doubled over in laughter. She was shaking hard and tears rushed down her cheeks in amusement. "Something you would like to share with the rest of the class, Fabray?"

Quinn only laughed harder as she sagged against the bathroom tiles, arms wrapped around her waist as she released a year and half worth of lies. "Honestly, now's not the time to lose it, Quinn." She laughed harder at that. Waving her hand in his direction to show she only needed a moment to fully dispel her newfound liberation.

The blonde finally righted herself and wiped away the stray tears as she considered the boy. "That's Ms. Fabray." Jesse rolled his eyes as he expelled a large breath and lazily stared at Quinn.

"So what's it going to be?"

Quinn chuckled again as her finger skimmed her necklace. "Did you know that I hate getting up early?" The blonde asked with a smile. Jesse narrowed his eyes, not sure where Quinn was going with this.

"That's wonderful. Neither do I."

"I do, I hate getting up early. But for the last year and half…six o'clock, on the dot, I'm up. And I hate it!" Quinn laughed again as more tears formed in her eyes.

"I hate going to classes that are mine. I hate cooking three meals a day. Laundry rooms, Jesse, I swear to God, I hate laundry rooms! I hate pulling out Rachel's hair from the drain and rinsing her leftover toothpaste from the sink! Picking up her wet towels and cleaning up all her discarded clothes! Rachel Berry is a slob!"

Jesse glanced around the bathroom uncomfortably as Quinn dissolved into a fresh wave of laughter. "But I did it! For a year and half I did all those things with a painted smile on my face because I wanted to be the perfect Stepford Wife so that Rachel would stay with me! But you know what?" Jesse's expression looked pained, afraid of the answer. "I love her! I do! I love that little messy diva because when she sings I get goose bumps and she skips around the apartment when some stupid musical is about to come on and because she snores louder than a Labrador and her face gets all scrunched up when she's concentrating and her lips move when she reads, I love all those things! And I find it endearing that she leaves toothpaste in the sink! I do, I think it's freaking adorable!"

He was currently wondering if he could casually skirt around the blonde to make a fast exit just when Quinn stepped away from the wall and stood in front of him. "I hurt her. I took advantage of her. She was, for all intense and purposes, on the rebound when I lied. I knew she'd fall for it. And I think you're right. She's going to come here and tell me that she lied too just to test me to see if I'll leave her. But I'm not.

"I'm going to stay by her side and I'm going to slowly show her that I'm the girl of her dreams." Quinn said, taking a step closer to Jesse—who promptly took a step back—as her hazel eyes crackled and her tone a deadly calm. "This time, I'm going to do it as me.

"I'm going to push her and challenge her and force her to realize that I'm so deeply in love with her that I'm not the perfect woman she so blindly fell in love with. I'm not Quinn Fabray; head Cheerio, but I'm not Mrs. Berry; Stepford Wife. I'm just me. A girl who loves cooking for her but doesn't have to do it for every meal. A girl who hates going to her classes but who will be happy to help her study. A girl who won't go to every single audition, show, and rehearsal because I'm her agent or I think I have to, but because I love watching her on stage.

"If she thinks that I'm just going to roll over and fall for more of her lies, she's sorely mistaken! It's time Rachel Berry wakes up and sees that Quinn Fabray is more than a gorgeous face and fake sentiments. When I'm through with her she'll be even more in love than she was before. The only difference is, this time…this time it will be real."

X

Rachel sat uncomfortably on Lydia's couch as she waited for Quinn to get out of the bathroom. She had no idea why the blonde had been in there since she had arrived almost a half hour ago, but Rachel seriously hoped that Quinn wasn't ill; she'd hate to upset her further is she wasn't feeling well.

Not that what she had to say would necessarily upset Quinn, ill or not. Rachel just knew that at that moment, things were a little confusing. She didn't know the blonde's motives. What was Quinn hoping to get out of everything? Jesse had told her that Quinn lied so she could get out of Lima and start a life elsewhere. And now Quinn had.

But what kind of life did the blonde want? Rachel was aware of how much money Quinn saved. The diva had seen Quinn's bank statement. It made no sense to Rachel as to why Quinn was continuing with the charade when she had the money to make her own life. Not with Rachel.

Could Jesse have been right? Not the bit about Quinn being in love with her. No, that was off the table—it had to be; Rachel wasn't in a place where she could hope. But maybe the blonde truly liked her. Wanted to be friends.

Rachel was struggling with that part of things. The last week had been nearly impossible to get through. A constant ache that she tried to scratch at only to find a hole. But it kept aching. Now, knowing that Quinn was only feet away, the ache lessoned and the hole got smaller.

As she often does, Barbra consoled Rachel and counseled her to a place where she felt some sense of control. Instead of being her usual emotional self, she was now clear-headed; she had a plan. From now on Rachel Berry wouldn't sit back and allow herself to be blindsided as she had been in high school. Oh, no. This time, she'd take the wheel and dictate to Quinn what would happen.

Once the blonde made her appearance—Rachel seriously hoped the girl was feeling okay; what was she doing in the bathroom?—she'd simply sit the blonde down and tell her how it was going to go. She had the whole speech—read: long-winded rant—down cold, and was ready to debate and shoot down whatever counter-argument Quinn could come up with.

They would stay friends, of course. Because Jesse had been right about the part where Rachel needed Quinn in her life. But the diva was positive that seeing Quinn on a daily bases would be a recipe for only further heartbreak. She would need some distance to remain sane. The masochist in her balked at the idea of spending any more time apart from the blonde. But the small, tiny realist in Rachel knew that it was a must. She would continue to love Quinn, just from afar.

Surely the blonde wanted to truly fall in love. Meet a nice man who could take care of her or something gross like that. And Rachel wanted Quinn happy. However agonizing it would be for the diva, she needed Quinn to be happy and taken care of.

And until that day came, Rachel wanted to be the one to do it; to repay the blonde for her generosity. Quinn had provided and aided the diva far more than she could ever convey. It was almost as though the blonde had nursed Rachel back to health. The fall-out from high school had been severe. It had taken a massive toll on the diva. But Quinn made Rachel see, through just being her amazing self, that what happened back then wasn't some dramatic Rachel-Berry-life-ruining event; it was just high school.

Finn Hudson was just a boy. Mr. Schuester was a lonely man with his own problems. Jesse St. James was just narcissistic—that hadn't changed, but his desire to be her friend made the whole thing seem silly now. Her peers were just as lonely and confused as she had been. And Shelby…well, Shelby was a tad tougher to define. Ultimately, Rachel didn't have any answer for that one. The hurt still stung. The rejection continued to plague her. And the answers were still allusive. At one time, Rachel believed that Quinn's love made up for that. Almost as though, if Quinn Fabray loved her, than Shelby's rebuff didn't mean as much. Surely the woman was a fool.

Now, with the lie reveled, Rachel was having a difficult time remembering exactly how she had been able to file her mother's rejection away. So she wasn't thinking about it.

Instead, she was trying to stay focused. Hovering somewhere between desperate to be a part of Quinn's world in whatever capacity she could, and holding firm on the idea that less was more where the blonde was concerned.

The monkey wrench in the plan had been Jesse, however. His annoying attitude over Quinn remaining her agent and continuing to be friends was making Rachel itchy. She couldn't just come out and tell the boy that she was in love with Quinn. And because she couldn't be honest—let on about how much she was hurting—she didn't have a valid reason not to have Quinn constantly around.

Jesse thought that both she and Quinn had lied. He didn't see what the big deal was if they continued to help each other as they had been. And of course, to someone not inside Rachel Berry's heart and head, it was a legitimate inquiry.

So Rachel set out to ease over the argument. Instead of taking the defensive and letting Quinn question why they couldn't keep things as they were, Rachel was ready to, instead, finesse the blonde a tad. Use big words and run-on sentences to confuse Quinn into seeing it the diva's way. That is if Quinn wanted to keep things the way they had been. If the blonde didn't mind moving out, creating a life of her own, then Rachel wouldn't have to worry about trying to convince her. Then, she'd only have to worry about heartbreak—Rachel was hoping for a morsel of resistance, at the very least; for ego's sake.

But the logical part of Rachel's brain knew that if Quinn put up resistance, she'd fold like a lawn chair. Hence why she was hoping to barrel through her argument without interruption. So she constructed her PowerPoint presentation, practiced in front of the mirror, and carefully planned precisely which words she'd use to get Quinn to speak with her; her heart racing all the while.

The diva had shot Quinn a simple text asking if they could speak and the response came an agonizing five minutes later. They agreed, via text, to meet at Lydia's because the dark-haired girl was busy walking dogs so they wouldn't be disturbed; Rachel hadn't even bothered to ask if Quinn would come to the apartment—there were too many memories to have it there. She was also ignoring the excitement she felt every time she saw Quinn name on her phone; that was just a ridiculous reaction she'd have no part of.

But likewise, the blonde felt the same. She knew it was coming, but when she received Rachel's text, saw the diva's name on her phone, her heart raced and everything got tingly.

Quinn gripped the porcelain of the sink's basin as she stared at her reflection. She was psyching herself up for what was about to happen. First; the amazing/painful recollection of Rachel's beauty, second; the lies Rachel would tell to try and convince Quinn she wasn't in love with the blonde, and lastly; the agreement to be besties despite the fact that every nerve in Quinn's body would want to scream her love for the diva.

Rachel craned her neck as she slightly twisted on the couch when she heard the bathroom door open, her heart hamming in her chest. The seven hours she had spent making up her PowerPoint of pros and cons, different future scenarios—almost like a choose your own adventure—and a checklist of everything she needed to keep in mind while facing the blonde—namely things like don't kiss her—had been eradicated the moment Quinn came into view. She was beyond a vision of beauty, and Rachel swallowed hard to curb the desire to ravish her.

She thought wanting to kiss Quinn would be natural. She figured wanting to reach out and hold her would be an obvious reaction. What Rachel wasn't banking on, was the urge to throw the blonde down and rip her clothes off. But that was probably because Rachel didn't know Quinn was only going to be wearing booty shorts and a beater.

Quinn was taking her cue from Siegfried and Roy. She thought that if, perhaps, her attire was on the…naughty side, Rachel would be too distracted to really lay her argument on thick. If the diva was too busy looking left, Quinn would swoop in and make her see right. So far so good, Quinn thought as she watched Rachel's wide eyes scan her body. The blonde further wanted to see if Jesse had been right, if Rachel was really in love with her. Although, Quinn couldn't tell merely by Rachel's riveted gaze if she was in love, at least she knew the diva found her attractive. That was something, at least.

It also was affording the blonde a moment to take in Rachel's appearance. She looks tired. And sad…well…mostly she looks kind of horny. Her eyes are so dark. God, I love her lips. Shit, when she licks them like that I just want to-

Hey! Why don't you focus!

Sorry.

"Hey, Rach." Quinn said softly as she slowly moved towards the couch. No response. "Rach?" The diva's eyelids where hooded. "Rachel!"

Rachel jumped slightly and shook her head as she tore her gaze away from Quinn's breasts. "Q-Quinn. I'm so sorry! I-I don't know where I zoned off to." The diva apologized as she blushed furiously. Quinn hid her smirk as she moved around the couch to take the chair across from Rachel. It felt amazing just to be looking at the diva.

"It's okay." The blonde answered evenly as she sat. "It's good to see you, Rach." Again, Rachel was silent. But not because it wasn't good to see Quinn. No, it had more to do with the fact that Quinn parted her thighs slightly before slowly closing them again; just barely showing off the V between her legs.

"Uhhh…" Quinn covered her mouth with her fist to hide her smile. This was almost too easy for the blonde. At this rate, Quinn would get to do all the talking. Just how she wanted it. She couldn't let Rachel catch her stride.

"I'll start than." The blonde gave the confused diva a small smile as she crossed one leg over the other, showing off her toned thighs. "Jesse told me that you lied in the beginning too." That's right, Fabray, jump right into it. The time for pleasantries will come later, well after Rachel has time to adjust to your revealing outfit.

"I, uh…" Rachel's words were tripped up now by Quinn's cleavage. The blonde leaned forward slightly to rest her elbow on her knee and the diva could scarcely remove her gaze.

"It's okay. He explained everything to me. We both lied. We both messed up. But, Rach…I care about you." Quinn said softly, reaching out to take the diva's hands within her own.

"I care about you too." Rachel mumbled, lost in Quinn's gaze for a moment before she shook that off and took her hands back. What are you doing? This is not what we rehearsed!

I'm getting there, I'm getting there!

Get there soon!

You try having this conversation when Quinn Fabray is dressed like that!

Well you have to lay down the law! Really make her see that Jesus Christ why is she stroking her thigh like that?

"As I was saying, Rach. I think that we should just start over. A clean slate. I care about you, you care about me; let's start over as friends."

"Uhhh…yeahhhh."

"Great. I'm so glad you agree. We'll continue to live together, I'll still be your agent slash manager slash publicist, and we'll be happy." Quinn stopped rubbing her inner thighs for a moment to let Rachel recover.

The diva cleared her throat and looked down at the carpet for a moment to get her bearings as she tried to remember what the blonde had just said. "Um…" Rachel frowned as she realized what she just agreed to. "Wait…"

"Because, Rach." Quinn went on, not at all concerned by the diva's inability to form words or thoughts as she linked her fingers with Rachel's again. It felt right touching Rachel. Her skin was warm and soft. Just as Quinn remembered. "You are my best friend. The past; it doesn't matter to me. What matters is that I can't imagine a day going by without seeing you. This last week has been hell. I don't want to go through another hour of that."

Say something.

Her thumb is caressing my hand.

Say something!

Her bra is black.

SAY SOMETHING!

"Kay." Rachel muttered demurely as she blushed and bit her lower lip.

God that lip is so sexy.

Her mouth is so freaking sexy.

I could throw her down on that couch and she wouldn't stop me.

Shit, can you imagine how hot that would be if-

Quinn, get it together!

Sorry!

The blonde cleared her voice and dropped the diva's hand in an effort to remain vertical. "I, uh…I'm," Quinn felt her face flame as dirty thoughts continued to swirl in her mind. "Everything…happens for a reason," Keep it together! "I don't regret lying to you, however, I am sorry if I hurt you because of it, but it brought us here. I got to see what an amazing person you are and I wouldn't take back a moment of the last year and half."

Thoughts were becoming easier to form as Rachel kept her gaze adverted. She had completely forgotten every point she was going to make—relationships built on lies can't stand true and so on and so forth—but soaked in Quinn's words.

"I agree." Rachel mumbled, her eyes closed as it hit her what Quinn was saying.

"I want to be perfectly clear so there isn't any confusion; I want to be there for you. Every step of the way. You are my friend first and everything else comes second. We can sign some sort of contract if it makes you feel better. But I want you to trust me. I'll start paying rent. We can split everything down the middle-"

Rachel was shaking her head furiously in an effort to cut Quinn off. "No, Quinn. That's not necessary." Their eyes met and the diva nodded slowly to make Quinn understand. "You're right. We both lied. We'll be friends." WHAT ARE YOU SAYING? This was not a part of the plan!

"But, Rachel, I can pay rent-"

"I want to make sure you're taken care of." It slipped out before she could stop herself. Rachel was too busy ignoring the voice in her head, trying to cope with the blonde's appearance, all while fighting to recall exactly what her argument had been. She completely forgot herself. Quinn narrowed her eyes in confusion before she smiled softly.

"Rach, I'll be fine if-" Again, Rachel was shaking her head. She would at least remember one part of her PowerPoint!

"No! You've taken care of me and now it's my turn." Rachel said as she swallowed painfully at the memories of their past. "We're equals and we should be treated as such." Quinn's smile broadened as the admission. She and Rachel, it appeared, were on the same page. Well…sort of. Jesse had read to Quinn Rachel's PowerPoint presentation so the blonde knew what the diva wasn't saying.

Rachel wanted to get separate apartments but still remain in each other's lives. Rachel wanted to see Quinn from time to time but mostly for professional reasons. Rachel wanted to give Quinn half of all her future earnings in an effort to take care of the blonde. Rachel was freaking nuts if she thought Quinn was going to let any of that happen. Hence her diversion techniques.

"Great. I'm so happy we're in agreement. Now, on to tomorrow night." Quinn squeezed her breasts together again so she could easily get through this next portion. Rachel's eyes immediately honed in on the action.

"Tomorrow…?" So far it was working.

"Ainsley and Charlene are expecting us to show up as a happy couple. Now, I'm not exactly thrilled about lying to them. And I most certainly don't want to make you feel uncomfortable. But I think it would be much easier for everyone involved if we just played along. We go, we have a good time, we make some contacts, and we go back to being friends? What do you think?"

"Tomorrow…?"

"Excellent." Quinn smiled.

"Wait…huh?"

Quinn smiled patiently as Rachel finally glanced up to meet her stare. "We'll just pretend for tomorrow, Rach." Rachel Berry, get your head together and talk!

"Quinn…do you really think that is such a good idea, I mean-"

"Do you really want to explain why we aren't together?" Quinn asked sadly. Rachel considered that and slowly shook her head. "Rach, I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but I really don't want to make everyone else uncomfortable by explaining that our engagement is over."

Again, Rachel nodded. You are weak, Rachel Berry!

I said that one thing from the PowerPoint!

Weak!

Oh, shut up! You were staring at her breasts too! And she's not wrong. In fact, everything she said sounds about right.

Do you really think we can live with her again and not fall harder?

I don't want to lose her…This week as been hell.

We agreed that we'd love her from afar!

But this sounds so much better…

Rachel!

Oh, be quiet!

"I think you're right, Quinn." Rachel said softly as she met hazel eyes. She smiled back at the blonde but looked away when the butterflies started. That was so much easier than I thought it would be!

She barely put up any argument!

Oh yeah, she loves us!

Let's hope so.

God, she's adorable. Her gorgeous brown eyes are all glazed over. Her smile is all dopey and cute. I can't believe how amazing it feels just to be speaking to her again.

Even that hideous sweater is just precious.

I wish I could just…hug the shit out of her right now!

Make a note, find a viable reason to hug the shit out of Rachel Berry sometime today.

Tackle football?

Rachel will never play.

I'll work on it.

"What do you have planned for today?" Quinn asked after a long moment. Rachel shrugged shyly, hoping Quinn wanted to make up for lost time. Weak! Rachel Berry, You. Are. Weak!

"No plans."

"Want to go food shopping?"

X

"The part is fascinating, Quinn! I get so lost in the character! Evelyn is this dark, troubled girl who wears all black and smokes Cloves-" Quinn whipped her head around to comment on that, but Rachel cut her off. "Don't worry. I merely hold the cigarette, you never actually see me inhale. Anyway! So, Doctor Trevor sees me three times a week. But each day is a different one of the girl's personalities. Monday is little-girl-Evelyn—played by Chris' sister, Ronnie; she's a trip—Wednesday is insane-Evelyn—played by this old woman who talks about sex constantly; it's all very Betty Davis; and then there is Friday, my day, where I channel Tina and Santana all rolled up into Lauran Zizes! It's exceptionally challenging!"

Well…exceptionally challenging is overstating things a bit. Being without Quinn made me miserable. The part came fairly easy. Rachel conceded.

Quinn smiled and held in her giggle as Rachel batted her hand away from reaching out to grab the toilet paper. Even through the diva's long rants about what she had been up to all week, Rachel wanted to be the one to put each item into the grocery cart.

"It sounds amazing, I can't wait to see it." I wish I had been there to see you act. Help you with the part. Just be there for you…

"It's so dark and twisted, Quinn. So Sundance. Even if they don't accept A Date a Month, they will accept Which of You, I Love."

"So I guess Matt hasn't come around on the idea of changing the title to A Date a Month?" Quinn asked with a laugh as they cut down aisle ten.

"You know, it's kind of growing on me now." Rachel admitted with a shrug and a smile.

As to be expected, it was both incredibly easy and insanely difficult to be around Quinn. She had missed her so much but longed to be closer to her. She knew it would be hard, but she was suddenly okay with that. Rachel was okay with loving Quinn from afar because the blonde had been right; Quinn was Rachel's best friend as well. She didn't want to be apart from Quinn. It hurt more than having to suppress her feelings.

It felt just so unbelievably good to catch up with Rachel. Everything felt natural. They were talking and laughing and shopping almost as though the previous week never happened at all.

She had missed Rachel.

A part of Quinn knew that it wasn't always going to be sunshine and daises; that eventually, reality would smack her in the face. But at that moment, as Rachel bounced up and down and told another story, Quinn didn't care.

If this is what it took—talking and laughing with her best friend; she wasn't kidding, Rachel was her best friend—to remain in the diva's life, to slowly show her that Quinn was in love, then she'd gladly do it.

Their bubble was back. But it was a completely different kind than before. Then, in the beginning, the bubble was formed because they only had each other. Now it was there because they only wanted each other. As Rachel pushed the shopping cart down each aisle and happily babbled away with a riveted Quinn at her side, they missed the many stock boys, cashiers, and flower and produce guys that tried to get their attention.

We're shopping for our apartment, Quinn thought happily as she smiled and nodded along to what the diva was saying, grinning ear to ear as she watched Rachel's eyes light up as she spoke.

They chatted and crammed in every little detail and story from the past week all throughout their shopping trip. They continued going back and forth—talking nonstop—even as they put their purchases away; they didn't even notice they were back home.

"…And the dog looked exactly like Sergeant Peppers that I almost went back and asked the man if the Doberman was Sergeant Peppers and if Quinn Fabray was his dog walker." Rachel sighed deeply as she ran her finger around the lip of her empty mug. "But they were already two blocks away and I was still in my makeup from Which of You, I Love…I didn't want to scare the man."

You're not even holding back, Rachel! You're pouring everything out for her to take as though it's okay to be in love with her! She makes it impossible not to open up!

Quinn smiled softly, her palm resting on her cheek, before she finished the dregs of her own cup. Once the groceries were unpacked, it only seemed natural for them to make a cup of tea and continue talking at the kitchen table.

For the first time since they set out for the store, silence fell between them.

"I really am sorry I lied." Rachel mumbled as she ducked her head. She needed to say it, though.

"Rach, I'm the one that that came to you. I'm the one that should be really sorry. And I am. I'm so, so sorry." They were quiet again as the stared at the kitchen table, both ignoring the desire to reach out and touch the other.

"What happened, Quinn? Why didn't you have any other options?" Rachel eventually asked. It was something that she had wondered ever since Jesse told her the whole truth Quinn had conveyed to the boy.

The blonde blew out a breath and leaned back in her chair. The truth? Because I only wanted to be with you. But I guess I can't say that, can I? More lies. Just fantastic.

"I had no other options."

"Nothing?" Rachel whispered in awe, completely confused that the great Quinn Fabray's life resembled Patches, the crazy homeless man in Lima. I had outs…I just never realized how much I loved you. That everything else paled in comparison. That I was depressed over losing you. I was so blind.

"Nothing that I could stand to live with." Quinn chose her words carefully. She didn't want to lie if she could help it. Being evasive felt better.

Rachel shook her head sadly. It hurt her to know that the woman she loved was left so alone at one point in time.

"And how about you? New York was really that bad?" Quinn whispered, also saddened to picture Rachel miserable and alone. She took a moment to recall how it felt to have no one in New York with her, remembered how desolate it all seemed.

"You know in Funny Girl when Fanny sings I'm the Greatest Star?" Rachel asked softly. Quinn smiled fondly and nodded when Rachel glanced up from beneath her bangs to look at the blonde. "Well…the part when she sings, 'I'll blow my horn, till someone blows it,' I guess…I guess I just got tired of blowing my own horn, you know? I had done it every day of high school and it was just so exhausting."

Quinn nodded in understanding. "Is that what you were doing in high school? Blowing your own horn till someone blows it?" The blonde asked with a kind smile, her tone hinting at playful; Rachel's big brown eyes suddenly seemed so sad, Quinn needed to see them lighten.

Quinn's smile got bigger as she saw Rachel's bashful grin. "I suppose."

"You were very good at it."

"Oh, shut up." Rachel laughed and tossed a napkin in the blonde's direction. They silently smiled to themselves, pleased that they were in each other's company once again, talking, joking, and laughing. Having a real conversation for once.

There would probably be more conversations. Deeper conversations about everything. But right then, it just felt good to be with one another. The diva couldn't help but think of how it all began, though.

Quinn watched as Rachel started to smile. Then, the diva started to chuckle. Finally, Rachel was full-on laughing. "What?" Quinn asked, smiling at the sight. "Why are you laughing?"

Rachel covered her face with her hand as she continued to giggle. "You have no idea how off-guard you caught me that night before graduation."

Quinn cringed in embarrassment as she remembered showing up to the Berrys', wasted, a ranting loon. "I am so sorry about that." The blonde laughed. She laughed harder once tears sprang in Rachel's eyes and the diva's head crashed down on the kitchen table.

"When you kissed me…" Rachel shot back in her chair, arms around her shaking waist, as she recalled how utterly shocked she had been. "Oh my, God, Quinn! I was speechless!"

"What can I say, I'm a hell of a kisser." Quinn teased. "You're not so bad yourself." The blonde added in a purr as she bit her lip. Suddenly, Rachel was no longer laughing. Her face slacked as she felt her body grow warm. Don't look at her lips, Rachel, don't look at her lips!

"I have to pee." The diva blurted out as she jumped out of her chair and ran to the bathroom. Quinn chuckled, very pleased with herself. You're sick, you know that?

What? I can't flirt?

That's not the point! The point is to regain her trust and slowly transition friendship into something more. Not torture the poor girl!

Oh, you're no fun!

I can be fun!

You're the part of my brain that joined the Celibacy Club…so noooo, I don't think you can be.

Please, we were way more sexual in Celibacy Club than we ever were outside of it!

Just go away. I'll flirt if the situation calls for it and you can't stop me.

Don't you stick your tongue out at me, Quinn Fabray!

Ignoring her inner voice, Quinn got up to check the messages on the phone in the kitchen; still pleased with herself for garnering the flushed reaction from the brunette. She listened to Ainsley's message twice to try and get a sober idea of the man's personality so she could be prepared. She was happy to realize that he sounded just as nice as he did the weekend prior. And although she swore to Jesse that when it came to Rachel from now on that she'd be the real Quinn, the blonde amended that business was different and she'd have to be ready for Saturday's party. Agent!Quinn.

In the corner, next to the phone, the mail was piled up, neglected. Quinn casually flicked through the stack, aware that they were all addressed to her, but halted as she eyed the large white envelope that bore NYU's name and insignia. Curious, Quinn picked it up and flicked her finger to open it.

She wasn't exactly sure she was reading it correctly. She wasn't even aware that her heart was thudding loudly as her mouth hung open.

"'Congratulations, Ms. Fabray. You have been accepted into the graduating class of…'" Quinn's eyes flew across the page as she tried to let each word penetrate her confusion. Words and phrases like, "reviewed your appeal," and "scholarship," stuck out as though they were typed in bold-faced ink.

"Quinn? Do you know where we keep…" Rachel trailed off as she stood in the archway of the kitchen. The blonde's face was pale and she appeared a mixture between astonished and baffled. The diva took note of the discarded NYU envelope sitting on the counter and bit her lip as she waited for the fall-out of Quinn's reaction. The blonde was temperamental when it came to things like these. She could either be ecstatic or her pride could be bruised. Rachel seriously hoped it was the former because she couldn't bear to go without the blonde now that they were talking again.

Slowly, Quinn looked up from the letter to gaze at Rachel in wonderment. "You did this?" She breathed out, the paper shaking slightly because of her trembling hands. Rachel nodded softly and waited. Quinn glanced back at the paper as she tried to figure it all out. "This second page, it's from the billing department. It says my first semester is already taken care of. Wha- how…" Quinn shook her head.

"I went to speak to them, pretending to be you, of course." Rachel admitted in a rush. "I explained my…your situation and all you've done since you left Lima. I was able to get you a bigger scholarship along with some grants."

Quinn placed a quivering hand against her forehead as she fought to catch up. "How did you manage to do all that? You'd need…you'd need my social, expenditures, transcripts—Rachel…how did you do all this?"

Rachel bit her lip harder as she moved further into the kitchen. "Well…Quinn, you have a rather…distinctive voice. For the most part, it was all quite easy. I simply called McKinley, disguising my voice as yours, and used them. And…I may have…snooped a tad to procure your social as well as some other…financial information that one would require."

"I- so-" Quinn glanced towards Rachel hopefully. "Am I going to school?" A soft smile appeared on Rachel's face as she stepped closer.

"If that's what you want."

"But-what about you? I mean…Julliard and-"

"I know that school makes you happy. And you can't be a real agent if you don't have some education. I mean, if you don't want to go to school, I'll still hire you." Rachel said as her smile widened. "I just thought, perhaps, you'd enjoy it. And maybe, one day, you'd be able to obtain more clients. Not just Jesse, Mercedes, and myself."

Quinn covered her mouth with her palm before she ran her fingers through her hair; slowly understanding what this all meant—what it could mean. "I can't believe you did this. And not just this…Mercedes, too." Quinn swallowed back the words of love and closed her eyes to remain composed. "Thank you, Rachel." She whispered, not bothering to cover up her tears.

Rachel smiled, pleased that Quinn was happy and would be able to chase her dreams. "Don't thank me, Quinn," Rachel whispered. The blonde opened her eyes to gaze into the diva's. The moment was heavy with tension; both girls dying to say what their heart was screaming. It was too heavy for Rachel. "Just make me famous!" She winked and gave her patent Rachel Berry smile before she spun away and out of the kitchen. Her heart thudded as she heard Quinn's laughter.

Things weren't so easy as the night wore on, however. Now that everything was squared away, lies out in the open, the realization that Quinn would be spending the night in the apartment weighed heavily on them both; for obvious reasons.

It was well past midnight, both girls exhausted, but they continued to watch TV, wide-eyed and ramrod straight on the couch, completely unaware of what was playing on screen. There was a healthy distance between them, but both swore silently that they could feel the heat radiating off the other's body as they sat. It was distracting.

Would they share the bed? What excuse would they use to avoid it? Did they want to avoid it? If they were both only friends, it would be silly not to share. Having one of them crash on the couch would practically be an admission of attraction. But sharing a bed, being that close to one another and not being able to touch…simultaneously, both girls swallowed thickly at the idea of accidentally brushing up against the other in bed.

Sheer torture came to mind.

Do we change in front of each other still?

We can't do that? I'll completely lose my cool! I see her ankle and my brain turns to mush!

Her legs are heavenly.

Sliding my hand up them…mmmmm, Raaachel!

Knock it off!

Rachel was having similar problems.

What if…what if I wake up in the middle of the night lying on top of her? What if I accidentally start kissing her in my sleep? Oh, God, what if she starts to kiss me in her sleep? What if we were naked, and we were kissing each other in our sleep?

What are you talking about?

Huh? Oh! Um…nothing.

When infomercials started to play, both girls turned at the exact same time to see if the other was still awake. They caught each other's gaze and hastily looked away. Why is this so awkward?

Because you want to ravish her body, Fabray!

But she doesn't know that. I'll just…casually get up, stretch and yawn, and say I'm sleepy. I'll change quickly and slip into bed and everything will be fine.

Sure.

Okay… here I go.

"Well I'm exhausted." Rachel said, just as Quinn stood. Shit! She stole my line!

Well then, come up with another one!

"Um…me too." Quinn mumbled. That wasn't a very good line, Quinn!

Well I'm already standing! What was I supposed to say?

"I suppose…we…should…go to bed, then, huh?" Rachel asked quickly as she felt her face heat up.

"I suppose so." Quinn answered uncomfortably. Rachel slowly rose and followed Quinn into the bedroom. They quietly pulled out clothes to change into from their separate drawers and stalled for time. We've always changed in front of each other, it would be weird if I turned my back.

Are you honestly prepared to see her naked right now? Quinn didn't answer her inner voice, instead, she slowly peeled off her sundress and kept her eyes fixed on the carpet below her feet. Oh, God, I can see her in my peripheral! She hasn't even taken her clothes off yet and I'm a mess!

Rachel was slightly turned, but she too could see Quinn from the corner of her eyes. She swallowed with difficulty as she tried to block out the image of the blonde in only her bra and panties. She distracted herself with removing her skirt, completely aware of the overwhelming silence that hung in the air.

The sound of Rachel's skirt hitting the floor echoed around the bedroom. This is ridiculous! Quinn sighed as she gripped her t-shirt in her sweaty hands. Why do I care right now? I'm in love with her, she's the one that wants to deny her feelings. She's the one that needs time. Maybe a little nudity will do her some good. Move things along a bit.

Torture her, you mean?

Don't take that tone with me! I'm very aware that I have hurt her, in the past and also recently. So, yeah, I'm responsible with how closed-up she is. But that doesn't change the fact that she has feelings for me. If…by chance, showing a little skin, flirting a little, being a tad too affectionate will help her see reason…so be it. Do you have any idea how difficult it is not kiss the life out of her for what she did for me? I'm going to college! I'm about to start my career! And it's all because of Rachel.

So…what are you going to do?

Well for starters…screw it! I'm taking off my bra!

Oh, Jesus, heeeere we go…

Rachel was just slipping her t-shirt over her head when she caught movement. She wasn't exactly sure why Quinn was just standing there, unmoving in her bra and panties, allowing Rachel time to ogle and salivate in desperation, but she wasn't about to alert the blonde to that fact.

But now that she was ready for bed, unable to stall further, the diva turned fully ready to jump into bed. At the sight of Quinn's breasts, however, everything screeched to a halt.

True, they had changed in front of each other numerous times in the last year and a half. But they've never been naked in front of the other. On March thirteenth, twenty-twelve, Rachel had caught sight of Quinn's butt for a fleeting moment when the blonde's towel slipped. On August seventh, twenty-thirteen, Quinn got a peek of Rachel's left nipple when her shirt got a little too low. She was later treated with a full-body shot that one time they had been making out on the couch and the blonde had the moment memorized. But Rachel Berry had never been privy to such a treat before.

Her life was now fully altered.

Oh sweet, Mother Mary…

Advert your eyes! Advert your eyes! Abort mission! Abort, I say!

Tagoeohoggg. Breasts. Quinn's breasts. Full. Perky. Creamy. Alluring. Supple. Yummy. Breasts.

Okay…I think living with Quinn is going to be difficult.

Nipples. Soft. Pink. Hard. Nipples.

For the love of, God, at least wipe your chin!

Quinn was quite pleased with herself. Not only did she have Rachel's full attention, but she was surprised with how comfortable she felt half-naked in front of the diva. She was a very private person, but somehow it just excited her knowing that Rachel was staring. When she remained naked as long as possible, Quinn slipped her t-shirt on and bent over slightly to pull up her shorts.

"Ready for bed?" Quinn purred, her dark eyes gazing at Rachel. The diva squeaked slightly, her wide eyes anxiously staring back at the blonde, before she nodded with a jerk. "Okay, then." Quinn said with a smile as she made her way over to the bed.

Rachel was seriously hoping her gay wasn't showing. She was also hoping Quinn wouldn't ask why she was breathing like she just ran a mile. Or hear her racing heart. Or question her on her flushed face. Or why she was shaking as she peeled back the covers and slipped awkwardly into bed, on her back, staring up at the ceiling.

Quinn felt like laughing. And a bit like sobbing. She couldn't shake the feeling that they were acting exactly as they had the very first night Quinn got to New York. But so much had changed since then. But…at the same time, the blonde still felt immense gratitude towards the diva. Rachel had saved her then, and she was saving her now. She had a friend in Mercedes again. She had a new future in front of her. She had the diva at her side. Just by being there, Rachel was saving her.

Yeah, I don't really want to look for an excuse.

Quinn rolled over and took Rachel into her arms, surrounding the diva fully as she hugged her close. "Thank you so much, Rach. For everything." Quinn breathed out as she clung to the diva, taking in the feel of Rachel in her arms, her scent, the complete feeling she got from holding her.

Rachel's eyes slid shut as she too enjoy the closeness. Wouldn't have minded if she hugged me a little earlier…sans shirt, but this is nice. Sigh. Cozy. I feel all warm and tingly. She smells like pretty. Is that a scent? Pretty? That's what Quinn smells like.

So this is you loving her from afar?

"You're welcome, Quinn." Rachel whispered as she pulled away slowly. The overwhelming desire to turn back into the blonde's arms was painful, but she refrained. If not being held by her was hard, she couldn't imagine spending the whole night in Quinn's embrace and not being able to touch her in some small way; a kiss, a caress…best to keep her distance.

It didn't change the fact that they woke up in the morning in each other's arms. Rachel would end up walking with a limp days later, still smarting from falling off the bed in her haste to dislodge herself. She also ended up with a slight bump on her head where she knocked it on the end table when Quinn had asked if she wanted the blonde to kiss it and make it all better.

X

Rachel Berry, Quinn Fabray, and Jesse St. James all stood outside the giant penthouse apartment of Ainsley and Charlene Swaine in their Sunday best, nervous messes. The diva's long, chestnut-brown locks were swept back into a sleek ponytail to reveal understated touches of makeup that paired nicely with the navy-blue long-sleeved, high-necked dress that reached mid-thigh. The dress had been a compromise between her and Quinn. Fashionable, yet Rachel. The diva felt that the silver belt that looped around the dress was a tad overboard, but loved the limp bow around the neckline. That was Quinn's least favorite part.

The blonde was a vision of an Ice Queen in her long, white pea coat that she matched with dark leggings and high, white heeled boots that laced up just below her knees. The green tunic underneath her coat made her appear seven feet tall and the picture of poise. Her long, curled hair was tamed by a simple clip as it swept over her exposed shoulder where the tunic slid off the round of her shoulder.

Jesse was wearing clothes too.

"Are we ready?" Quinn breathed out as she stood between the two brunettes.

"Absolutely!" They both said at the same time getting the blonde to smirk. But no one moved to knock. Quinn smiled as she watched Rachel rotate the diamond ring that was back on her finger as she bit her lip nervously. Quinn had noticed the ring's absence the day before but took relief in the fact that it had winked back at her from around Rachel's throat. She was equal parts sad and happy that the diva didn't remove it completely.

"Okay." Quinn breathed out before she raised her hand and knocked firmly. Charlene answered not a moment later and smiled when she saw them.

"Hello! It's so good to see you again!" She hugged them all and kissed their cheeks twice before standing aside to let them in. They shucked off their jackets for her to take and took in the high-ceiling apartment that was exquisitely decorated in a modern decorum. "Wine, champagne, beer, liquor? What can I get you?" Charlene asked sweetly as she slipped a loose strand of red hair behind her ear as she led them towards the party.

Wisely, Quinn refused alcohol in favor for sparkling water while Charlene rushed to retrieve Jesse's beer and Rachel's champagne.

The Swaine's living room was about the size of Rachel and Quinn's apartment. They had the whole top floor of the penthouse and it was currently occupied with nearly a dozen people of all ages. "Here you go," Charlene said with a grin as she handed over the beverages. "There are some hors d'oeuvres scattered about the room," She said as they all faced the party; her voice slightly raised over the light jazz music. "Help yourself. Dinner will be along shortly. In the mean time, Ainsley will be delighted to see you, so say hi before you mingle." Charlene squeezed Rachel's arm affectionately before she took off for the kitchen.

"What should we do?" Rachel asked softly as she eyed the bustling room. She was excited to meet and speak to all the different people there. They appeared, at first glance, to have nothing to link them all together. She, Quinn, and Jesse were hardly the youngest in the crowd, but surely Ainsley couldn't be the oldest. A bald-headed man who looked like he was in his late seventies was animatedly talking to a middle-aged woman as she leaned against a wooden credenza. A guy no older than Rachel was in deep conversation with a woman that's height rivaled Finn's. And a small group of mismatched individuals crowded around the hors d'oeuvres conversating lightly.

"I suppose we should say hello to Ainsley and then split up." Quinn said confidently as she laced her fingers with Rachel before she took off in the man's direction. The diva bit her lip at the feel of Quinn's hand in hers again. It made her smile. And she couldn't help but feel like the most important person in the room because of it.

"Well, hello!" Ainsley cheered as he parted from his group. He eagerly shook Jesse's hand before he turned to the two young women; placing a kiss on both their cheeks'. "So happy you could make it! Jesse, see that man over there in the tweed jacket looking pompous?" Ainsley asked as he discreetly looked across the room at the man in question; he was currently trying to get tartar sauce off his white button-down. "His name is Thomas Longmore and if you mention you went to UCLA, he'll adore you for life."

"Thank you, sir." Jesse said with a smile before he took off towards the man.

"Ladies!" Ainsley grinned. "You both look simply striking this evening."

"Thank you, Mr. Swaine." Rachel responded politely.

"None of that, Rachel. You must call me Ainsley. If for nothing more than the fact you saw me behave like a drunken, old buffoon last Saturday." The girls traded smiles as they laughed. "Rachel, dear, you see that woman over there who appears to forgotten her personality?"

"I see no such woman, Ainsley." Rachel replied with a disarming grin that made Quinn's eyes light up. Ainsley chuckled back appreciatively before he cleared his throat.

"Naturally. My sincerest apologies for my slipup. What I meant to say, is see that beautiful woman over there that may or may not be uptight? Please go inform her of your experiences at Julliard. And if you find an opening, casually mention A Sweetness."

Rachel smiled up at the man in thanks before she turned hesitantly towards Quinn. She didn't want to leave the blonde. She also didn't want be without her; Rachel was nervous. "You'll be fine." Quinn said warmly as she trailed one finger down Rachel's suddenly red-hot cheek. The diva nodded back, slightly dazed, before she took a breath, squared her shoulders, and took off towards her mission.

"Rachel will be more than fine. Desimee will adore her bubbly personality." Ainsley and Quinn stood shoulder to shoulder as they silently watched the scene unfold. Jesse seemed to be getting along well with Thomas and Rachel already had the stony Desimee smiling.

Ainsley himself carted Quinn around to the different people. She shook hands, kissed cheeks, and laughed when appropriate with everyone she met. The collective theme for the evening, it appeared, was Broadway. Everyone there, in some way or another, was associated with the stage: producers, composers, directors, actors, writers. Quinn, Rachel, and Jesse were definitely the odd men out.

"So tell me, Quinn. What University do you study at?" A tall, lanky man asked as he sipped his bourbon. The blonde cleared her throat as she arranged her features.

"I adjunct at Julliard but will get my degree from NYU." The man ahhhh backed, seemingly impressed. To say she adjunct at Julliard was slightly pressing it, but Quinn did know many of the professors and took a good deal of classes. No, she hadn't paid for, but Rachel's fathers did. That counted, right?

"Well I must be off." He said with a smile as he tossed back the rest of his drink before inspecting his watch. "Almost seven, jeez, my partner won't be pleased with me." The man grimaced before chuckling. "It was an absolute, charming pleasure meeting you, Ms. Fabray. He's my card. If any of your clients are interested in revivals, do call." The man grinned and placed a kiss on her cheek before going to say goodbye to their hosts.

Confused, Quinn glanced around and noticed that everyone seemed to be getting ready to leave as well. "Ainsley said dinner was at seven, correct, Quinn?" Rachel asked in confusion as she slipped up beside the blonde and watched as Desimee and Thomas both got into their coats at the door.

Quinn nodded and turned towards the approaching Jesse. "Where's everyone going?"

The boy shrugged; he too thought it was a dinner party.

The three of them were about to retrieve their coats as well, but Charlene caught their attention. "Not to worry. Dinner is on schedule."

"But everyone is leaving." Rachel said as the last guest left, all save another young man who looked just as confused as they did.

"They were here for the appetizers." Charlene said with a smile, her eyes twinkling. "The three of you and Julian Schein were the only ones asked to dinner." She explained mysteriously. "Please continue to chat while Ainsley and I prepare the meal."

Jesse ventured over to Julian as the girls turned toward one another. "So how's your night going so far?" Quinn asked as she eyed the diva carefully. She had watched Rachel's progress over the last hour. Every time she sought out the diva, Rachel appeared to be entranced in whatever conversation she was having.

"Splendid!" Rachel gushed with a smile. "Desimee asked me all sorts of questions about the play and the movies and even glee club!" Quinn smiled, loving how excited Rachel seemed.

"And you? I noticed that Ainsley had you working the room." Rachel said with a smile. In truth, Rachel found it difficult to take her eyes off the blonde. The confidence she had exuded as she spoke to the different individuals was sexy and alluring. Agent!Quinn had it going on.

"Very informative." Quinn answered mysteriously with a smirk. She had made a lot of contacts. Business cards had been handed to her left and right. She felt confident that Rachel would be working soon.

"Dinner is ready!" Charlene announced from the living room doorway. The foursome followed her into a large dining room that was open and as modernly decorated as the rest of the apartment.

They all took a seat in a high-backed, cream chair and glanced around unsurely. Ainsley and Charlene sat at the head of both ends of the table, with the girls on one side and the boys on the other. Their hosts smiled at each other secretively, before Charlene nodded to her husband.

"Every once and a while, Charlene and I like to hold a get together for upcoming talent. A way for them to make contacts in the hopes that their careers can flourish."

"Ainsley and I believe that you four are such up and comers. Julian, your performance in True Paradise was magnificent. We thought it was fitting to introduce you and Mr. St. James to Thomas because he is about to take over directing the European sensation Dance Trio come the New Year. Jesse, you were wonderful in A Sweetness and knew instantly that you'd fit right in to Thomas' vision." Both boys nodded in understanding, but not quite sure what they were getting out.

"My wife and my suspicions were accurate. Thomas adored you both and I wouldn't be surprised if you received a call tomorrow to come in and audition for the part."

"For Dance Trio?" Julian asked, his French accent slight.

"Exactly. The tour starts in England and eight weeks later you'll be back in the States." Ainsley said with a boyish grin. Jesse's wide eyes found Rachel's first before he glanced at Quinn.

"And is Dance Trio a promising act?" Quinn inquired, getting into work-mode. Ainsley and Charlene shared a pleased smile before they turned to her.

"Very. Broadway material. The current cast is lacking and Jesse and Julian will be the perfect additions to really make the show. Thomas left a script for you perusal." Ainsley added, looking directly at the blonde. Quinn nodded once, straining to keep her expression professional.

"Less business, more eating." Charlene said before she winked at Rachel. The couple didn't want to discuss what they had planned for the diva in front of Jesse and Julian.

An hour later, Ainsley lead everyone to his study for Brandy and coffee. The dark wooded room felt rustic homey and everyone found a seat to continue chatting. "Quinn? A word?" Ainsley requested as he motioned over to two chairs by the fire. The blonde followed and noted that they were set apart from the other four.

"Did you enjoy your evening?" He asked with a smile from around his tumbler of Brandy.

"Immensely. Thank you so much for inviting us. Rachel is over the moon."

"Of course, of course. I know talent, and she's got it in spades." Beside his leather chair, Ainsley reached into a box that sat on top of the end table and procured a cigar. He silently asked Quinn if she wanted one and she shook her head as she waited for him to stop puffing on it and get down to whatever it was that he wanted to speak to her about.

"Charlene and I have been together for over forty years, Quinn. That's a long time." He finally said, his gaze fixed on hers.

"Yes it is; you should be very proud."

"Indeed I am. We both are. Loyalty. That's important. Standing beside the one you love and cherish."

"I couldn't agree more." Quinn replied, her eyes finding Rachel's from across the room as the diva chatted with Charlene. They traded smiles before they directed their attention back to their respective host.

"See. That right there. You immediately look to her. And she immediately felt your eyes and sought you out. That's what I'm talking about." Quinn stared back at him, slightly puzzled.

"I don't understand-" Ainsley leaned forward in his chair to survey the girl.

"There was a time when Broadway wasn't just about making money and getting famous. It wasn't just a way to get onto TV or films. People wanted to just be on stage and perform. Rachel has that passion for the stage."

Quinn nodded, still not quite sure what he was getting at. "Her dream has always been performing on the stage."

"Her passion for Broadway is what intrigued me about her from the beginning. But there are a lot of actors out there that feel the same. What sets Rachel apart from all the others, Quinn, isn't her drive, her talent, or her love of the stage, but you."

Quinn narrowed her eyes as she bit her lip. Now she was really lost. "I'm not quite sure…"

"I wrote a play. A musical." Ainsley said. He looked as excited as a boy on Christmas. "Charlene and I did. We wrote the dialogue, the songs, and the music!"

"I thought you only offered financial support?"

"And in the past I have." His enthusiasm was obvious. He tipped even further in his chair. "But what most don't know, is for the last twenty years, Charlene and I have been working on our musical. The story of our love. What we've been through together!"

Quinn nodded again and tried to keep up with his fast pace. "We've met with the best composers, the best writers, the best directors, and we think it's finally finished. Our dream of seeing the story of us performed on stage!"

"That's so romantic." Quinn smiled.

"We're fit to be tied over it! But the hard part is still to come. We were able to use our own money to get the ball rolling and we know enough producers to find the rest of the backing. We have a venue and crew…now all we need are actors." Oh my, God!

"We know what's out there. We've held auditions. Spoke to people in the know. And we have most of the casting done." Suddenly Ainsley went quiet as he smiled bashfully. "I have to admit, however, some casting is proving a tad trickier.

"I should have known that casting a woman to play my wife would be difficult." He chuckled ruefully as he pulled hard on his cigar. "After all, it took me two years to come up with a name for the character! When we saw Rachel perform in A Sweetness, both my wife and I were excited. But…"

Ainsley trailed off as he searched for the right words. Now Quinn was on the edge of her seat. "You have to understand the position we're in. The musical is very personal to us. This isn't just some story. It's our love story! How we met, how we fell in love, the trials we've faced. I don't feel comfortable leaving that in the hands of just some young actress hungry for her big break!"

"I understand completely," Quinn rushed out, dying to hear what he'd say next. "It's very personal."

"Yes! To watch someone not take the role of my wife, my love, seriously, would taint it for me."

"You want someone who respects the role and treats it reverently." Her heart was racing.

"Exactly!" He gushed as he pointed the cigar at her. "Someone who understands the story because they are in midst of their own love story. Someone who will respect it as though it were their own. Someone who knows of loyalty and will be honored to play a role so near and dear to my heart!"

Someone like Rachel!

"Someone like your Rachel." Now that it was said, Quinn felt lightheaded. She reminded herself to breath and remained composed.

"I can't speak for Rachel," Quinn said slowly. "But I know that she takes loves stories very seriously. She takes people's emotions very seriously."

"And after speaking to you both, getting to know her, we both agree that she does. The way she looks at you, the way you look at each other…it's very moving." He said with a soft smile. Quinn blushed, unaware that they were so obvious but not surprised. She had felt Rachel's eyes on her all night.

"Sometimes the best shows spring success not only because of the performances and the quality of show, but from the personal feelings involved. It has often been argued that Rent wouldn't have been the success it had been, if it were not for the love and loyalty the cast and crew felt towards Jonathan Larson. His death connected each and every person who performed, or who would ever perform in it." Quinn nodded, familiar with his story; Rachel made her watch the Rent documentary.

"Charlene and I feel that she will be perfect for the part. She's telling her right now." Quinn's head whipped around just as Rachel's wide eyes turned in the blonde's direction. The diva looked gobsmacked. "And by your fiancé's reaction, I believe my wife has just informed her."

Quinn was unaware of the fact that Jesse and Julian were no longer there. She could barely catch up. Rachel had just been offered a part in a Broadway show. A Broadway show that had the most influential people in the business connected to it. She had no words.

"Ahhh, getting around to business are you?" Charlene asked as she approached, a stunned diva at her side.

"Yes, just gave Quinn the news." Ainsley smiled as his wife took a seat on his lap.

"Well I just gave some news of my own to Rachel." The diva's eyes were still wide as she collapsed into the chair beside Quinn's. The blonde's eyebrow rose at Rachel's expression. Why doesn't she look more excited? She looks like she's just seen a ghost.

"Oh did you? I thought we agreed to tell them together?" Ainsley asked with a chuckle and kissed his wife's cheek. Rachel's wide eyes looked at Quinn. Sheer panic was reflected in the brown.

"What's going on?" Quinn asked carefully, unsure as to why Ainsley and Charlene were so pleased while Rachel looked on the verge of freaking out.

"I was just explaining to Rachel what my newest hobby is, isn't that right, Rachel?" The diva nodded tersely with a fake, pained smile. "Yes, we were talking about your engagement and she was explaining that you two aren't financially in a place to get married yet. She doesn't have a steady job and the like." Charlene explained, still grinning madly.

Again, Quinn looked to Rachel. It was obvious that the diva was trying to tell the blonde something with her eyes.

"And I was just informing Quinn of our newest creative endeavor. It seems as though they make lovely parallels, am I right, Charlene?" The red-headed smiled lovingly at her husband and nodded.

Sensing Rachel's growing panic, Quinn turned back to the couple. "What exactly is your newest hobby, Charlene?" The woman smiled excitedly and clapped her hands.

"Well, Quinn. First I think it's important to tell Rachel about the musical."

"Yes! Rachel, dear, we would officially like to offer you a role in our soon to be Broadway hit!" A peal of laughter erupted from the diva's tightly closed lips. That wasn't at all the reaction Quinn was expected.

"See dear," Charlene gushed. "Now you have a steady job!"

"Hmm." Rachel hummed as she bobbed her head, eyes still wide and fearful, smile still fake and uncomfortable. Quinn was at a loss. Why was Rachel acting so strangely? All her dreams were coming true.

"Forgive me," Charlene amended with a girlish giggle. "I'm just so excited!"

"It's an exciting time!" Ainsley added with a hearty laugh. "The musical will start, Rachel will be a star, and in the meantime, Quinn, you'll have some planning to do!"

Quinn had no idea what was going on. Planning? For what?

"I'm sorry…planning?" Rachel shot her another anxiety-ridden look as she sat stiffly in her chair.

"Well yes, dear. My hobby." Charlene smiled again and paused dramatically before she squealed in delight. "I'm a wedding planner!"