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

Pairing: Eventual Quinn/Rachel
Spoilers: Anything up to that has already aired. Starts in around Theatricality-ish,

A/N: Thanks to everyone again for your comments they mean a lot and keep me going! As always, constructive criticism and comments most welcome! And thanks so much for the comments and reviews.

A/N: Sorry this one took so long again. I took a detour and started another sorta related fic. It's fun having two to work on. And even though they are related, the tone changes so it makes it challenging. No spoilers for either of them I don't really think. I've stated it's Quinn/Rachel, so…I'm assuming you already know that…? If not, you're not paying very good attention ;)

Rachel took hold of the 'oh shit' handle, gripping tightly. Quinn clearly meant business at the moment. As soon as they cleared the campus, and its lower speed limit, they were cruising towards Puck's house. Well, currently Quinn's house as well. She glanced at the blond furtively. She was currently tapping the steering wheel, keeping impatient time with the song on the radio. Rachel had been mildly insulted at Quinn's implication that she didn't keep up with contemporary music. She thought she did a fine job. Though it was true she didn't know much of what was on college radio being sung by all male bands. If she couldn't sing the part and do it justice, she didn't really see the need to bother with it all that much. True, some of it was kind of fun to listen to, like some of this Modest Mouse Quinn had been playing. She thought singer's voice was, ungifted, at best, and grating at worst. But if she let go of that, it was not so bad once she got used to it. She allowed herself to bounce along with the current song, whatever it was. She didn't know who was Michael Franti and Spearhead was, but she bopped along with the reggae sounding song anyway.

As Quinn turned sharply into a residential neighborhood, Rachel scanned the area, and noted there certainly were more than enough pools for Noah to clean in the neighborhood come warmer weather.

Another sharp right, and another quick left and Quinn was practically screeching into the driveway, and Rachel was looking a little urpy. Quinn looked at her apologetically.

"Sorry about that…looks like Mama Puckerman isn't home, so that is at least a plus."

Rachel smiled weakly. "No, it's fine. I'm just going to get out and get a little fresh air, while you…go about your business."

Quinn shrugged her apology again, and extracted herself from the car as quickly as possible. . Rachel had just gotten out herself, when she saw Quinn halfway to the covered porch, turn around and groan.

"I need my backpack? Key is in there?"

I'll retrieve it for you.

The smaller girl scrambled to get the backpack, trotting quickly over.

Thanks Rach, I'll be right back. You're welcome to come in…? I was going to, uh grab fresh shirt…?

Rachel raised her eyebrow, and folded her arms. "Uh huh. I see. Thank you Quinn, but I'll believe I'll just stay here."

I'm sorry Rach, it's just…this is a little small for me…? And, look I'm sorry, I'll be right back, but I have got to go now.

Rachel just shook her head. She wasn't mad or hurt, just baffled as usual by the nuances of high school fashion. What made one shirt acceptable, or not. It all seemed a bit silly. She sighed, dismissing the conundrum. She dug out her cell phone, wondering why she hadn't heard from Jesse still. She debated sending him a text. But she thought it might come across as too moody. Sighing, she put her phone away. It wasn't that she wanted to hear from Jesse, as a person so much. She just figured that is what good boyfriends do, right? They check in.

Quinn unlocked the big door, and headed straight for the bathroom on the main floor. It wasn't a big house. It was big enough for Puck, his sister and his mother of course. But adding one more very pregnant, very irritable person to the mix was certainly straining. On everyone.

She eyed herself in the bathroom mirror. Missing, not for the first time, her own bathroom. Full of 'girl' things. Her girl things. Her hair and skin products and the lovely smells that they produced. Vanilla and mango scented candles. She sighed. It wasn't like this was awful, but it didn't feel like home, that was for sure. Mostly because despite Puck being outnumbered two to one by females, it still felt like a bit of a man-cave. She didn't know what the upstairs was like. Maybe that was the female 'sanctuary.' She sighed. It didn't matter anyway. It wasn't like she'd be comfortable here, even if all the accoutrement she was used to were here anyway.

Her backpack made a ding, and then a buzzing sound. Great. More texts. She reached in to her backpack, grabbing the red stained shirt and her phone.

She decided to start with Santana's text first.

Seriously Q, WTF?

I'm at Pucks. With Berry. She helped.

I repeat. WTF?Did Manhands kidnap you? Has she gone mental? Have you?

No. Change of clothes, back before Glee. Notes?

Yeah, notes. You owe me. WTH is going on?

Later.

You WILL give details later…

She almost giggled, envisioning Santana growling while texting. But then her stomach seized up a little, and she felt anxious suddenly. She moved on to answer Mercedes' text.

Hey girl. All good?

All good. Change of clothes, Berry with me. Back before Glee.

Kurt, surprisingly, was next. Though when she read it, it made more sense.

Two words. Fels-Naptha. Pre-treating is key.

Duly noted, thanks.

Finally, she answered Puck.

What up? Do we kick an ass or not?

Stay out of trouble, Puck. I'll deal.

She glanced down, wondering who exactly 'we' was. She sent an additional text to Puck.

Tx.

No prob. I look after family.

Quinn pondered that. It was true. Then yet another buzz.

Hi. Rachel here. Everything okay? Do you need assistance?

No Berry, I am not stuck on the toilet. come on in. Downstairs.

It seemed so very Rachel, Quinn thought. Quinn rolled her eyes and shook her head before answering. She took a deep breath, and almost smiled. It was interesting and, well, disconcerting to have everyone checking on her. She wasn't used to it. Santana and by default Brittany, sure, that was a given. Puck. Well, he was being all Mama Bear with her, which was odd and a bit suffocating, but at least it was better than him constantly trying to get into her pants. And there Kurt was being supportive in his own, unique way. And Mercedes was a friendship work in progress, but she liked the direction it was going.

As for Berry, well, this was all just plain odd no doubt about it. It might just be a one-off. It didn't mean she and Berry were suddenly going to be BFFs, and start having sleepovers. But, she felt kind of good about it too, a new beginning maybe.

She looked at her phone again. Almost two o'clock now. Quinn moved as quickly as she could around the various weights on the floor, and the weight bench that currently served as her shelf. Ah. The den she now called 'home.' She looked for a linen tunic to throw on, and made her way over to the chin up bar suspended in the bathroom door, and pulled down a light colored one off the hanger.

Quinn looked down and noted with relief that at least her most comfortable Capri trousers weren't marred by any cherry slushie stains. She didn't have the money to just replace things anymore.

She wrestled to remove the rather too tight fitting Aristocats shirt she'd borrowed from Rachel. She looked it, horrified, but amused also. What was this obsession Rachel had with animals and all things argyle?

Quinn found she was stuck and still wrestling to get the silly munchkin-sized shirt over her head. She felt like the doctor in some sitcom that couldn't get their scrubs off over their heads. It was disconcerting to be so…stuck. Over her grunts, she heard tell-tale bouncy footsteps coming down the stairs. Great.

Rachel came down the stairs. Quinn couldn't see her because her because her arms were stuck halfway suspended over her head.

"Quinn…?"

"Mnnmfff."

Rachel looked around, taking in the slightly stale smell. She took in the weights, and the weight bench and the 'closet' in the bathroom, and her she felt a tightening in her chest. Poor Quinn. She turned back to the girl who seemed to be in a state of half-undress.

"Quinn, are you sure you don't need some assistance after all?"

"Mmmnnnfff! Dammit!"

The sounds that issued forth were more forceful this time. A slight feeling of panic at not being able to move had settled in. Quinn didn't get panic attacks or anything like them, but it was true that ever since a 'let's play monsters, Quinn you can be The Mummy' incident when she was five or six, she was susceptible to a heightened degree of anxiety when felt like she couldn't move. She sighed, and tried to relax.

"I'm not sure if that is a request for assistance, or an insult I can't decipher. Stop moving. If you'd like my help, stamp your foot once."

*Thump thump thump* "Mmmfhhph" came the rapid and insistent reply.

"I'll take that as an emphatic plea for assistance. Anon, I come…"

"Anon I come? What the hell?" Or at least that is what Quinn wanted to say. It came out more like "Annonph I gggoomg? Hmmhnn thuh heghlph?"

Rachel took stock of the situation quickly then took several of her purposeful strides, saying "don't move." She put her hand on Quinn's shoulder, and flinched when she felt Quinn flinch.

"I'm here, hang on." She kept contact with Quinn's shoulder, to let her know she was there while she used her other hand to clear the couch. "Quinn, I'm just clearing the couch here, I think I need to stand on it to help you effectively. Hang in there, just a sec."

Quinn, for her part, was standing there, feeling all kinds of ridiculous. She was mad. Mad at the brunette's ridiculously small shirt and her diminutiveness in general. It made her feel like a clumsy giant when she was around her now. She was mad she was stuck, and in about two seconds she was thinking she was going to go all Incredible Hulk, and just rip the damn shirt off. She wasn't sure she hadn't ripped it anyway. She felt Rachel squeeze her shoulder again. She relaxed a little. Finally!

"Okay…shuffle your feet. That's it two feet back…almost there." She felt the couch on the backs of her legs, and stopped moving. She heard a creak, as Rachel presumably crawled up on the couch. "Hang on, that is much better. Okay, grabbing the bottom, just relax." Quinn felt hands on either side of her. Small ghosting brushes of her hand against her midriff and her ribs. Goosebumps suddenly broke out. She could feel Rachel's soft warm breath against her bare skin as she bent over to pull the shirt up. More goosebumps. What the hell? She wanted to say and think it tickled. But that wasn't it precisely. She shivered, and then started to giggle. It was such a weird sensation. She was turning it over in her mind trying to figure it out when Rachel broke into her thoughts unceremoniously.

"Quinn, you're not helping. I'm sorry if it's ticklish, but I'm not doing it on purpose you know."

She then felt one of her arms grabbed gently, and bent a little. With that arm adjusted, she felt the hands go back to her midsection, and slowly lifted over her head. She smelled vanilla and that damn…Rachel smell again, she closed her eyes inhaling, just then the shirt popped off her head. She felt dazed.

"There!" Rachel beamed at no one, as she wasn't facing Quinn. In fact, she was doing her best to avoid looking at the girl. She wasn't sure why she suddenly felt awkward. It wasn't like they had never been partially or mostly undressed around each other. They'd had to do costume changes before, and that had never bothered her. Maybe because it was just the two of them. It was a conundrum. And one she thought perhaps she would ponder, once she got away from the expanse of pale skin in front of her, partially covered with tangled and mussed hair now. The pony tail she'd had it in was a wreck, Rachel noted. She also absently noticed that Quinn had a very nicely shaped back, and lovely skin. Even with goose bumps. The softly curling hair was caught in a thin necklace, some of it pressed and clinging to her neck, which was damp from the effort to extricate herself on her own. "You're hair is caught, let me…"

"Uh…okay." The shoulders twitched.

She reached, her hand stuttering halfway there. She reached for the thin rope, and pulled it gently back. She gathered the hair in a loose ponytail and pulled the tendrils free.

"There you go"

"…thanks?"

Quinn knew she was certainly not thrilled when anyone saw her less than fully clothed these days, mostly because she felt like a behemoth. But this other odd shyness combined with that feeling, and well, it was making her inexplicably uncomfortable. How many times has she stripped down around Cheerios, or PE class. She shook her head, and blamed it on her pregnancy. She was flushing a little now, embarrassed and puzzled at her unfamiliar reaction to something normally so mundane. Well, nothing else in her life was mundane at the moment either.

The girl turned now, taking the offending shirt from Rachel's hand, using it to cover herself. She hoped subtly. She didn't really want Rachel to notice she was doing that. She was afraid the other girl would take it personally or something.

Rachel hopped off the couch, flustered.

"Hey, I'm just going to use the bathroom here if you don't mind?"

"Sure…sure, it's uh right there."

Quinn went about changing her bra and shirt as quickly as she could, not wanting to make a big deal of it, but certainly trying to have her clothes and her composure back in place before the brunette finished in the bathroom. What the hell is going on with her? Pregnancy was really messing with her hormones. If she were honest with herself, she wasn't entirely unaware of what the goosebumps were a signifier of. Especially since she wasn't particularly cold. In fact, just the opposite. She just didn't understand where the reaction had come from. And for the moment, she pushed it to the back of her mind.

The other girl called out now. "Hey Quinn, I'm starting to see why you were enjoying the smell of my shampoo…"

Quinn gulped. What exactly did that mean? What did she know exactly? "Uh what? You are?"

"Yeah, I mean there is clearly the lingering smell of…well, sweaty boy down here. The weights, and all that. It just smells…well, like boy. You need some scented candles or…something down here"

Quinn swallowed, relieved somehow, and quirked a weary eyebrow. "Tell me about it," she called back, relieved at the direction of the conversation now. "I often wonder what it's like on the second floor. I think that is where his mom and sister hide away. But yeah, you're right, total testosterone zone down here."

Rachel emerged, looking fresh. She stopped and paused a moment before speaking. She gestured to the space and room in general. "That must be hard. This must all be hard. For you." She looked quietly out the half-window that was just barely above ground, taking in the view of the driveway, thinking it must be cold down here in the winter. "You know, if you ever need it, I could…you know, talk to my dads. We have room."

"Save it Berry…I don't need anybody else…"

Rachel backed off quickly, raising her hands.

"Okay Quinn, I'm sorry. I just wanted to offer help."

Seeing the hurt look followed by recognition and resignation cross the singer's features, she relented. Normally, she would leave Rachel, or anyone, to think what they wanted to think, whether it was true or not. The fact was she just didn't want to be a burden on anyone else. She'd done enough of that. But for once, seeing Rachel's face, she thought if she was going to owe anything, an explanation was the least of it, and cheap to provide.

"No, I'm sorry I didn't really mean it like that. I just…I feel like I've owe so much to enough people as it is. I don't know if my increasingly fragile ego could take it right now. And no, it has nothing to do with you personally. I was forced out of my own house, and then out of Finn's house. My fault. At this point, I just don't want to add anyone else and their family to the list of people I owe. No offense. Really…okay, you are a special case, true. Because I've been so horrible to you. I know. So, maybe it just would feel like I owe you twice as much as I would anyone else. I don't know. But, at least with Puck…it's not so bad. Mentally I mean. I mean, he is part of this, or partly to blame. So, me living here? I guess it makes it feel more like a fair exchange, since he was so…integral…to me needing to be here in the first place… does that make sense?

Rachel tilted her head, considering what she'd heard. She nodded slowly. "Yes, I think I can see where you are coming from. I think it's a bit silly. But, it's not my place to say is it? And I think Noah is a good guy. Misguided horndog sometimes, sure, but deep down he's a good guy. I think it's good you're allowing him…or well, him and his mother…to help shoulder his part of the responsibility. It's good you're not taking that away from him."

Quinn's phone announced another text. Quinn sighed, and picked it up, glad of a distraction. Rachel folded her arms. "I can go upstairs."

"No, it's fine. It's probably Puck again. I've gotten back to everyone already. We should think about heading back. I just need to go put some stain treatment on these things."

"Fels-naptha"

"Huh. That is what Kurt said! Good to know, hang on. Laundry is down here too, naturally."

Rachel nodded. She continued to look around. She noticed the two guitars in their stand in the corner, and wandered over. "Can I see his guitars do you think?"

"Uh..yeah, not the one with the black neck." The blond head poked out into the room again. "That's his. Mine is the other one."

Rachel absorbed that. "That's right, you said you were learning."

"Yeah, got that one at a pawn shop. You'd be amazed at what you can find in a pawn shop. Not that I ever thought I'd be in a pawn shop. But…I've done a lot of things this year I never thought I'd do."

Rachel leaned over and picked up the other guitar. It had a greenish tortoiseshell kind of hue to it. It wasn't exactly…pretty. But it was interesting. She held it, and strummed it. The notes sounded right to her ear. Not that she had any idea what she was doing, but she understood music in general and notes, and somehow she just knew it was tuned correctly.

Quinn returned, stood with folded arms in the open doorway to the laundry room, pausing to watch her. "Go ahead. You can mess around with it. I do. I've learned some things, but nothing great."

Rachel turned strangely bashful. "Oh, thanks, but I don't know what I'm doing."

Quinn's eyebrows shot up. "Rachel Berry admitting she doesn't know something about music. Will wonders never cease?"

"Hey, I told you I was going to learn, maybe this summer."

"Well, I'm beside myself with anticipation for your first troubadour serenade in Glee. You know, serenading all of us I mean."

"Okay, you're on. A serenade it will be. Once I learn."

Quinn smiled, and watched Rachel strum a few more made up chords experimentally. She was bent over, looking intent. Somehow she would not have thought of the small Broadway diva as someone who could carry off the woman and her guitar look. And while the outfit she wore didn't help, she actually still looked like she knew what she was doing, even if the strap was too long on her, and left the guitar slung a little too low.

Rachel looked over at her, smiling mischievously. "Gloria? Ginger? Gretchen?"

Quinn tilted her head, confused.

Rachel grinned with fun in her eyes. "Your guitar, does she not have a name too?"

Quinn laughed and nodded in understanding. "Nice try. She does indeed. Or she will when I decide on one, or she lets me know."

"She lets you know…? Uh huh. Will you tell me then?"

"Maybe."

Rachel looked a little pouty now, and she looked down and played a reasonably bluesy sounding chord.

"Aw come on."

"Nope."

The would-be-diva sagged her shoulders in exaggerated exasperation. "Fine…be that way." Quinn looked at her fondly and laughed at her typical, if feigned, petulance. Then she watched as she put the guitar back with all the reverence she would any musical instrument, despite its obvious battered appearance.

"You know, Quinn, we have a baby grand in the music room downstairs. If you ever want to…come over and play it, you are more than welcome to."

Quinn started to say something, but Rachel interrupted her."Let me finish?"

Quinn raised her eyebrows speculatively, then nodded.

"You'd have it to yourself. The room that is, if you want privacy. I mean, I'd love it if you showed me what you can do, and well, daddy loves it. But it has been more of a training tool, or necessity for me than, well, say an avocation. I know it would make him, and well, me happy if it got use from someone who really loves playing."

"I don't know if I'd call it love, Rachel."

"Well, be that as it may, I don't know what there is to think about really. It's a win/win I would think. But that's me. So in any case, consider it a standing offer."

Quinn nodded silently, and looked thoughtful, and took a deep breath.

"Thanks Rachel. I will."

Rachel beamed. Like really beamed. Then she pulled out her phone, as Quinn watched. A disappointed looked crossed her face again. "We had better well…face the music? Hadn't we?"

The taller girl sighed, and nodded, pushing herself away from the wall with what felt like enormous effort. "Let's head back then I guess."

Time to head back to school. She wasn't sure what she was going to do about Karofsky yet. She would consult Santana it. Her eyes narrowed when she thought about him

Rachel noticed the quick change in demeanor. She knew she fervently hoped she'd never be the reason for, or on the receiving end of the look that had just come over Quinn's face. Ever again. She knew that look.

Rachel's eyes went wide, and she spoke quietly. "Wow. Quinn Fucking Fabray just made a full on comeback didn't she?"

Quinn's eyes snapped to her, and then her features softened, and she laughed apologetically and shrugged. "Sorry Rach, it's a habit. That Quinn is still in here you know."

"Oh, I know." Rachel pressed her lips into a flat smile, and clasped her hands in front of her, clearly uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry if I scared you. It's not you I'm mad at. I really…really don't want you to be afraid of me. You've got nothing to fear from me, okay?"

Rachel looked a little better, but still a little wary.

Quinn sighed, and rolled her eyes up. Then she opened her arms, looking put upon, but still smiling.

"Come here. Let's hug it out."

Rachel wanted to pelt towards her and grab her in a bear hug. But she did not. Instead, Rachel grinned (looking relieved because she just couldn't hide it) and walked deliberately towards the ex-Cheerio. She stopped and looked up at the blond, who now had her own wary look, and smiled hugely. "Let's." Then she wrapped her arms around her, baby bump and all, enveloping her somehow. Quinn rested her chin on mahogany hair.

"I cannot believe I just said 'hug it out.'"

The taller girl smiled and breathed in deeply, while the smaller girl grinned into her shoulder.