Chapter 11: Picnics and Slushies

The next day came and went as though it were nothing at all. So did the day after that. Then it became a week. Quinn's fears, it seemed, were for naught. The only worrisome thing was that the school was beginning to really pick up on their friendship. Some people were starting to understand that Quinn and Rachel were actually friends now. There was some gossip, a few of the older Cheerios complained at one point, but Quinn immediately put a stop to that. Coach Sylvester was simply pleased to see her Captain running the girls ragged with more vigor than usual. After that hellish practice, where Quinn reminded those girls just who they were dealing with, they didn't say much more about it.

Santana didn't say anything at all.

If there were a few odd looks in the halls, Quinn just made sure to go out of her way to be more frightening than usual. As a whole, everything really seemed to be working out pretty decently. Though, she didn't go over to the Berry house as often anymore, only when her Dads weren't there. Rachel certainly didn't like that at first. She didn't want her avoiding her parents just because of tension and she thought Quinn was just trying to skirt an uncomfortable issue that she simply needed to deal with.

Quinn curtly explained that it made her feel awkward and gave nothing more. She would never tell Rachel about what she overheard the men arguing about that night. What good would come of it? Instead, she'd just make things easier on them all and stay out of the Berry men's sight as much as possible. It was better that way.

In the end, Rachel caved, even though she protested that it meant they would be spending less time with each other as a result. Quinn didn't like it either, but promised to try to make up for it by figuring out how they could be together elsewhere. Though Rachel didn't say it, Quinn knew the reason that the girl hadn't put up a big fight about the issue with her Dads was that she was struggling with them herself.

Her parents were being secretive and overall very strange about Quinn. Rachel had never known them to be like this before. She'd had always had an open and honest relationship with her Dads, so this was something very new and unfortunately distressing. Yes, her rather checkered past with Quinn Fabray was something predictably worrisome for her loving, protective parents, but this was something else altogether. They absolutely refused to see Quinn on any other level, no matter how much she explained, begged, pleaded, reasoned, cajoled, and at one low point, extorted. None of it made a difference and she didn't understand it in the slightest. Her fathers had always been open, accepting, reasonable men. Yet, it was like Quinn was the one person in the world that proved the exception to the rule.

She asked Quinn once, and only once, if she would consider letting her reveal the true nature of their relationship to her Dads. If they understood what was happening, it would change their views entirely. Honestly, Rachel thought it might even help Quinn if she was able to talk to her fathers about what she was going through. She herself had been raised to accept love in all forms and had no difficulties accepting her feelings for Quinn, at least, no difficulty in the fact that Quinn was a girl. The fact that Quinn was Quinn…well…that was something else.

She wanted so much to tell her parents about what was happening, but she didn't want to betray her Quinn's trust. So she'd broached the subject as carefully as she could, but the blonde wouldn't hear a word of it. She grew angry, shut down completely, and stormed out. The next day, Rachel had to swear she would never tell them before Quinn could move past it.

All of this was just so exhausting. And it didn't make sense!

A divide was falling between her and her Dads. They didn't talk as much as they used to. She didn't make the effort and neither did they. Rachel knew why she was keeping her secret, but there was something they weren't telling her either. That honesty that had always been such a valued staple to their family life and relationship was breaking down; something was changing between them. It wasn't as though they were arguing and raging at each other; it was still relatively normal and calm in the Berry household, but it wasn't the same either.

Rachel did wonder, with some hurt on her part, why Quinn never asked her over to her house. It's not like she had to be outright introduced to Judy Fabray as the bisexual girlfriend. Why couldn't they use the guise of friendship at Quinn's house as they did at hers? Yet she was too nervous to broach it. If Quinn wanted her at her house, she would have asked, and she never did. So they just stuck to Rachel's, neither one of them speaking of the alternative.

It was one of those nights - a Saturday. Quinn gladly begged off attending another Puckerman rager in favor of cuddling with Rachel on her bed while her fathers were at a dinner party. Rachel was playing some of her favorite Broadway songs for Quinn (so she could be better informed on the subject, of course). Quinn didn't protest. She was wrapped up in Rachel's arms, warm, relaxed, peaceful. That was more than enough. And the music wasn't that bad. Some of it was actually really good, but she wasn't going to admit to that. Leave the diva hanging a little, get her a bit worked up over it.

Seriously, she needed this habit checked into.

"Had you always known?" Rachel asked suddenly.

They hadn't spoken for a little while - just listening, letting hands wander innocently, but Quinn wasn't surprised by the abrupt question. She was starting to get used to Rachel's way of - how to describe it? - communicating. Maybe that wasn't right. Whatever it was, she was starting to know Rachel and she really liked that she did. She wanted to know her better than anyone, all the little things, all the big things, the secrets and the not-so-secret. She wanted to be that person.

It'd never really mattered to her before in previous relationships. She didn't care what Finn's favorite food was. She didn't pay attention to a word of what Puck said about Super Mario Kart. She never bothered to find out more about Sam's hobbies or try to understand his lame impressions. Those relationships had always been about certain terms that needed to be met, standards, quotas to be filled, a strictly outlined form of how things were to be conducted so as to appear in a certain way to the public eye. It was never about them. It was never about her, just the appearance of her, so to speak.

Yet she knew more about Rachel than she cared to know about all of her past boyfriends combined and it wasn't even close to being enough.

"Known what?" she replied lazily, trailing her fingers up and down the other girl's bare arm.

"That you were gay," Rachel said bluntly. "Did you always know and just denied it all this time?"

Quinn hesitated in her movements before continuing slowly. "I dunno."

"That is not an answer."

"Actually, it is."

"No," she said firmly. "It is a lazy, mumbled, nonsensical word that has no truth to it. You do know. Now tell me."

She gave her a look. "You're being bossy."

"It's part of my charm."

"That's highly debatable."

"Quinn!"

"I really didn't know, Rach. Honest." She groaned and pulled her closer, slipping a leg between hers. Quinn was using Rachel's arm as a pillow, it was curled around her shoulders, but they were lying side by side now, pressed against each other from breasts to ankles. If Rachel hadn't brought up this inordinately difficult topic of conversation, they would have certainly been doing something else by now. "But I guess that's because I was probably so hell-bent on not knowing."

The brunette frowned. "I don't understand."

She interlaced their fingers and stared at them for a moment. Fair against tan, perfectly manicured nails, longer fingers, shorter fingers, graceful fingers, fiery fingers. She smiled inwardly at her own inane musing. She liked the way their hands looked together.

"Okay…" she breathed in uncomfortably, trying to work up the nerve to talk about this. "There was this time, back in the beginning of freshman year, when I first started showering with other girls…that I would…I would kind of look sometimes."

"I see…" Rachel drawled teasingly.

Quinn wasn't of a mind to be lighthearted about this. "I always thought it was just for comparison. You know, the normal kind. Girls sizing up other girls. My mother always talked about it. She does it to every female that crosses her path, no matter the age. She finds something to criticize. Something she has that's better than them. Anyway, that's what I thought it was about, but…"

"Yes?"

Quinn heaved a sigh and shifted anxiously. This really wasn't easy to talk about. In fact, she hated it. Sometimes she felt like she was too open with this girl, too trusting…but it was Rachel.

"Do you remember Bianca Perry? The senior captain?"

"The tall, gorgeous brunette? Looked like just she walked out of a Brazilian swimsuit magazine?"

"That's the one."

"Y-you were attracted to her?"

Quinn noticed the tremor in her voice, but kept on. "We were in the showers after practice, she was next to me, and I just kind of happened to notice, nothing new, but I…" She swallowed painfully. "I felt something. I didn't even know what. All I know is that it freaked me out so badly, I never looked again. After that, I was always the first one in the showers and the first one out. It just became routine. I didn't think about it. It didn't exist."

"You were able to stop?" Rachel lifted herself on her elbows to lean over her, large doe eyes peering into her with such sympathy. "Just like that?"

"I didn't have a choice."

"There's always a choice."

"You're telling me I chose to be this way?" Quinn retorted harshly, unable to believe that she would even have the nerve to say such a thing.

"Of course not," she replied patiently. "Feelings are one thing. We don't get a say in that. But there's always a choice in whether or not we act on them. Good or bad. Right or wrong. Wanting or not. You could have chosen not to kiss me."

"No, I couldn't have."

Rachel was taken aback. "What?"

She really didn't understand, did she?

"You were never a choice, Rachel. You just…were. No decisions. No thoughts. Just you." She sighed. "It was never a choice."

Quinn watched as the other girl ruminated on that for a while. Her brow drawn in concentration, her nose scrunched up as she tried to puzzle out some insanely long and convoluted repartee with herself as her brain went to places even Quinn would never understand as hard as she tried. Instead of asking her what she was thinking, she just nuzzled her nose lightly, trying to break her out of the serious mindset. It worked, in part at least, because Rachel eyes refocused on her and she smiled.

"Does it scare you?" she asked quietly.

She had to think about that. After a moment, she looked back at the brown eyed girl who was still watching her intently.

"I spend my days between being...so happy….and completely terrified."

"You don't talk to me about it. I so wish you would, Quinn."

About what it meant to be gay. What it meant for her life. Who she was. What they were doing. How everything was hidden. About being strong enough to be herself for the world to know and see.

She wasn't ready. And she wasn't going to be ready for a long time. Sure, announcing she was a lesbian and dating Rachel Berry would destroy her reputation…permanently, in a way that even getting pregnant hadn't done, but that wasn't the real problem. It was a scary thing, to have to give that up. It meant leaving behind all the things she had clung to so desperately before. She didn't want that; she liked having the power, being on that pedestal in school. She wanted to keep it. But it wasn't the problem.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Talking helps," Rachel reasoned carefully. "It gives you a chance to express thoughts, feelings, fears that otherwise fester and worsen if kept bottled up."

"You're probably right."

Yet, it wasn't a concession in any way, shape, or form, and Rachel knew it.

"But you still don't want to talk about it," she said wearily.

"I still don't want to talk about it."

It broke Rachel's heart to hear how Quinn had been trying so hard all these years to repress her true nature. To think that she was so afraid of what it meant, that she denied a part of herself so completely…? How can a person live like that? Denying something essential to your very being? It was making sense now. How terribly Quinn had treated her. How obsessive her need to stay on top at school was. The boys she dated. And it particularly explained why Quinn had pursued her in the manner she did. Those natural urges she'd been suppressing for so long starting bursting through in a rather inappropriate and relatively unhealthy way.

Still. That was slowly being corrected and how could she fault Quinn for her methods when without them they wouldn't be where they were. Then again, if Quinn hadn't been wound so tightly, it could have saved them both a lot of time and trouble, while also saving Rachel the pain of being the outlet to her misplaced anger. Well, hindsight is 20/20. It didn't matter anymore how they got here. They were here, and the future was all that mattered, a future she most definitely wanted with Quinn Fabray.

It made Rachel want to cry when she thought about how stifled, self-loathing, and scared her girlfriend must have been, and still was to a certain extent. She wanted nothing more than to be able to help her, to make her feel better about herself, to show her everything that she was and all that she had to be proud of. But Quinn wasn't ready to hear it yet…not completely. It didn't discourage her though. Quinn needed time. She had faith that Quinn would one day be ready to accept herself fully and she couldn't wait for that day. Quinn deserved happiness, even if she didn't believe herself worthy of it. Rachel would convince her.

The blonde was watching her with thoughtful eyes and she tried to pull herself out of the musings again. They weren't going to talk about it so she just had to let it go…for now.

In setting aside that topic, Rachel fell upon another that had made her heart clench the moment Quinn spoke the words. She didn't want to sound needy or jealous, like Finn had always accused her of when she jumped on him for this sort of thing, but she had to know. Her mind was already spinning off with sordid scenarios and those dark, sickly feelings were working their way through.

"So…you liked her?" she tried as casually as possible.

"Who?" Quinn replied absently as she ran her fingers through the ends of Rachel's hair, seeming much more focused on that than the question.

"Bianca."

"Oh God no!" she snapped to attention, giving her a horrified look. "I hated her. That girl was psychotic. She once took a bat to her boyfriend's car 'cause he wouldn't get her a caramel macchiato in the middle of the school day."

Rachel gasped. "I thought that was just a rumor!"

"Oh, it happened. His parents pressed charges, but Coach Sylvester stepped in somehow and made it go away. I have no idea how and I don't ever want to know."

"B-but you admit you were attracted to her."

"I don't know," she muttered, "maybe."

"It was enough to freak you out."

"I told you," Quinn replied firmly, "I didn't think about it. Just shoved it away, ignored it, pretended like it never existed. I didn't know what it was I felt, but I really didn't want to feel it again."

"Is that your type?" she pressed, knowing she was digging herself into a hole here, but it wasn't in her nature to stop. Her masochism tended to get the best of her sometimes.

"What?"

"The tall, exotic, sex on a stick, sort of look. Is that your type? Is that what you find attractive?"

Quinn was bewildered, not to mention extremely uncomfortable.

"A-a type? I don't have a…" she stammered. "I've barely even… Why are you asking me this?"

"I'm just interested to know what you find physically appealing now that you've started to open yourself up to your true feelings."

She sat up, abruptly disentangling them, while Rachel remained on her side as calmly as possible, propped up by her elbow.

"Liar."

"Excuse me?"

"You're such a liar. This isn't about mere curiosity, it's about your insecurity. You're worried that I think Bianca Perry is hotter than you."

"Well, of course you do!" she shot back. "She was considered practically a goddess at McKinley. Santana even came second to her."

"From the way you're talking, it seems like you're the one into her!"

"I certainly am not!" she said indignantly. "I was never attracted to Bianca Perry, Quinn. I appreciated her looks, but there is a distinction between thinking someone is good looking and being attracted to them. You're being very defensive."

"I'm annoyed!"

"Why would you be annoyed?"

"Because how could you possibly believe that I would think anyone is more beautiful than you?"

Rachel was stunned. It took her a few moments to recuperate enough for a response.

"I-I never said that."

"I know you. I can see it. That's what you were thinking. What do you think is going to happen here, Rachel? I admit I'm gay, slum around with you for a while, then move on to bigger, better things? Hotter, sexier girls?"

"Maybe?" she whispered.

"What is wrong with you?" she cried. "Yes, Bianca was hot. She was gorgeous. I think she's modeling in Europe now. But she doesn't hold a candle to you."

"Quinn, I won't be ridicul-"

"You're so beautiful, Rachel. Don't you see that? Don't you see how much I want you whenever we're together? I can't keep my hands off you. I want to be with you all the time. I want to kiss you all the time. I can't…I can't stand to hear you talk this way. It…hurts to think that you don't know that about yourself."

Rachel gave her a dark look that Quinn knew she deserved.

"Because you feel guilty for your part in it?"

She looked away sadly. "That too."

"You really think I'm beautiful?"

"In every way."

She saw the jumbo sized cup before anything else. Instinct like none other had her bracing for the sudden impact, eyes shut tight. Yet the expected never came. Still bracing, she opened one eye to peek and Santana Lopez was standing nonchalantly in front of her holding a giant purple slushie.

"Just do it already," Rachel groaned.

"Do what?" she replied with an innocently raised eyebrow.

The Latina pulled out a straw, plopped it in, and took a long sip before releasing it with a pop. Smacking her lips at the taste, she frowned curiously over Rachel.

"What?" she asked with a shrug. "Oh! Did you think you were going to get your weekly slushie facial this morning? Tsk, sorry to disappoint, Manhands. Maybe tomorrow. That is, if Quinn comes to her senses by then and lifts the ban, of course."

"If you're not going to throw that in my face…which I still kind of think you are…then what do you want?"

She shrugged again, but the look on her face said something else entirely.

"Nothing. Nothing at all. Just thought you should know - whatever it is that's going on between you and blondie? I'm going to find out. And you best be believing it's not a matter of if, but when. So until then…enjoy." She handed her the cup. "Grape's your favorite right?"

She was still holding the slushie, frozen in place, long after Santana had sauntered out of sight.

Rachel started beaming the moment Quinn walked through the door to the choir room. She couldn't help it. Just the sight of the blonde made her heart race, her stomach flip, and happiness shoot through her veins.

She really needed to get herself under control. How were they supposed to continue to be a secret if she kept grinning at her like this? Even the emo!punk blind kid who tripped people in the halls with his walking stick for fun would be able to pick up on it. Now that Santana was on the warpath, they had to be especially careful.

Quinn smiled back and seated herself next to her. Fortunately, it was early yet for Glee club, and they were only ones in the choir room.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Hi," Rachel replied and before she knew it, she was kissing her.

It was soft, and brief, and not nearly enough, but it was something. They released each other with a sigh, still wary of their surroundings and that someone could walk through the door any minute now.

"I feel like I haven't seen you all day and it was only three periods ago."

Quinn's eyes sparkled and she tucked back the few strands of hair that had fallen into Rachel's face, biting her lower lip. "I know what you mean."

Rachel was desperately trying not to kiss her again, especially since they were alone, but then it occurred to her…they weren't supposed to be alone.

"Where is everybody? They're going to be late…" She looked around at the empty seats reproachfully.

Quinn was licking her lips with a frown, as if tasting something strange, and all of a sudden grabbed Rachel's chin.

Rachel looked at her with wide eyes. "What?"

"Open your mouth," she demanded in her no nonsense tone.

Before even considering a reply, Rachel did as Quinn ordered.

"You taste like grape and your tongue is purple," she said, her brow furrowed. "Why do you taste like grape and why is your tongue purple?"

"Oh!" She shrugged, relieved that's all it was. Really, Quinn gave her a run for the melodramatic tendencies sometimes. "Santana gave me a grape slushie earlier."

The blonde's cheeks flamed with anger. "She did WHAT? I will kill her. I will freaking destroy that bi-"

Rachel was struggling to pull the raging cheerleader back into her seat as she tried to storm out of the room.

"Quinn! Quinn! Stop! She gave me a slushie, as in handed it to me! She didn't toss it in my face as per the usual treatment."

That stopped her. She turned around with a confused look and Rachel felt confident enough to release the hold on her wrist.

"She did what?"

"I am just as baffled as you are on the matter."

"Wait…you're telling me that Santana – Santana Lopez – offered you a slushie, instead of drowning you with it, and you…drank it?"

"Yes?"

"Rachel! She could have poisoned it or something!" Quinn said in disbelief. "What were you thinking?"

"She wouldn't do that!" she protested with a frown. "…Would she?"

Quinn scoffed.

She shook her head. "No, I saw her drink from it first. Besides, it was my favorite. I didn't want it to go to waste."

"You do realize that if she didn't poison it, and that's probably true seeing as how you're still alive right now, she could have spit in it? Or she was only pretending to drink from it and like…had the whole football team spit in it? Or worse…"

All the color drained from Rachel's face.

"Oh…my…God…" She started hyperventilating. "I didn't even think… I drank the whole thing… Oh, I'm going to be sick…" She collapsed onto a chair and Quinn dropped beside her, rubbing her back soothingly as she put her head between her knees.

"Just take it back, take it back, and we'll pretend I never heard it, and it never happened," Rachel whined.

"Okay, okay, I take it back," she said quickly. "I'm sure nothing was wrong with it. Santana was just trying to mess with your head. She didn't do anything bad to it. You're fine, sweetie. Don't throw up."

"Right…okay...won't throw up…good…" Rachel nodded through deep breaths.

The rest of the Glee club started filtering in and Quinn had to take her hand away, but fortunately some color had reappeared in the girl's cheeks.

"Good lord, Rachel, you look like someone just attempted a gangsta rap remake of Barbra's 'People'," Kurt said, sitting down in the row behind her. "Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine!" she rasped, head in her hands.

Quinn just shrugged, pretending not to know, but shot her girlfriend another worried look.

Santana was on the scent now. They had to be even more careful.

It was their lunch day. Once a week, the two of them would forego the usual cafeteria routine at separate tables, Rachel with the excuse of extra credit work in Chemistry (the pun not lost on Quinn when she came up with it), and Quinn with the excuse of Coach Sylvester imposing a mandatory weekly meeting so she could plot how to win Nationals both by legal and illegal measures if necessary (it was coming up soon and Sue was obsessively worse than her usual terrible self so no one batted an eye).

Today Rachel had wanted to meet in the auditorium, which Quinn was excited about because that usually meant less lunch and more Rachel. When she walked in, she noted with curiosity that the curtain on the stage was closed instead of open as usual. She went around backstage and found the brunette laying out a blanket on the stage floor, a picnic basket sitting next to her, and some pillows.

"What are you doing?"

"If you're so convinced you'll be valedictorian, surely you should be intelligent enough to put the pieces together," she said dryly, but looked up at her with a teasing grin.

"It's…it's nice, but we're…" Quinn trailed off and looked around as if there would be someone lurking in the shadowed corners to see.

"Completely alone," she finished for her knowingly. "No one comes in here besides Glee club and the band, and not even they will come here during lunch period. It's just us. Promise. I even closed the curtain. It's cozy and romantic."

Quinn was still wary, but she didn't want to disappoint Rachel, who looked so hopeful as she started pulling out carefully packed food. It was a bigger risk than they usually took; if someone walked in, it would be impossible to explain away as nothing. So she stood there, still a little ways off in the wings, unable to make herself take those steps forward.

There was something else she didn't like about this.

Rachel looked up with a small frown, realizing that Quinn hadn't joined her yet. The frown deepened when she saw her still standing there in the shadows.

"What's wrong?" she asked timidly, folding her hands on her lap. "Is…is it too much?"

"You've done this before," Quinn said more harshly than she intended to, but didn't regret it.

She didn't know why she felt so strongly about this, why she had such a feeling about it… Maybe it was how practiced Rachel looked in her movements. Maybe that was what gave it away. She looked like she knew exactly what she was doing. There was no hesitancy, no uncertainty, in a way that can only come from having experience.

So much was going through her mind right now and anger was the first familiar emotion she latched onto.

Rachel was shocked, but, didn't refute the accusation, as Quinn expected. That didn't mean it didn't hurt more to have it confirmed.

"O-oh, I…yes…well…" she stumbled over the words.

Of course, she hadn't thought she'd be caught. Quinn's chest heaved with rage as she stormed over to the blanket and glared down at the now sheepish looking brunette.

"With Finn?" she spat.

It had been a question, but she didn't need an answer. Quinn just wanted it said out loud.

Rachel's cheeks got redder.

"Yes," she whispered reluctantly, "But, Quinn, please let me explain-"

"So I'm just getting his sloppy seconds? Is that it? Did you really think you could fool me? I'm second to no one, Rachel! No one! And you don't get to make this out to be some sappy, romantic thing for me when you've already done this for another guy. How dare y-"

"STOP IT!" she yelled and stood up. She didn't look quite so embarrassed anymore, just angry.

Well, who the hell gave her the right to be angry too?

"Oh, you're going to yell at me now? Screw you, Rachel! You were all over him even when were together. Even when I was pregnant! I accepted that Finn cheated on me. Fine. I slept with Puck after all. But you…how could you? You know how I feel about you and Finn, and you just go and…pull this?" She shook her head furiously. "I'm out of here! You can just go to hell for all I care."

She spun around to leave, but Rachel had a firm grip on her arm.

"Quinn, no, don't go! Please!"

The contact only infuriated her all the more and she flung her off roughly.

"Would you stop?" She stepped back and folded hers arms across her chest tightly. "Just stop shouting and let me explain."

"Go right ahead," she sneered, "explain."

Rachel lifted her chin determinedly. "I did do this for Finn once. I've had this…fantasy, long before he even came into the picture, of how romantic it would be to have this sort of picnic on the stage. The lights shining down, the rows and rows of empty seats, being completely alone, just two people up here in an enormous room, and feeling like you've never been less alone. I always wondered what it would be like, to have someone I…cared about…be here with me, to share my stage, and how romantic and wonderful it would be."

She sighed.

"Everyone knows how much I love the stage, how I crave the spotlight, but it is lonely sometimes, so I always wondered if I could bring someone into it with me. That way I get my moment, but I also get…" she trailed off and Quinn wondered what it was she wanted to say, but didn't seem to be able.

"I thought Finn could be that person, but…it wasn't…it wasn't what I expected. It didn't feel right. It was awkward and strange and…I don't know. I thought it was just my expectations being too high, but then you happened and I started thinking about how much I really wanted this with you. I didn't even have to wonder if it was going to be all that I hoped for because you've already exceeded all my expectations, Quinn. I'm sorry I made you feel like I was re-dating, or whatever you might call it, but I really just wanted to have the chance to get it right this time. With you."

Quinn didn't say anything.

"Are you still mad at me?"

"Did you kiss him?"

"Yes," her voice cracked. "I-it was the first time we ever kissed, actually."

"And he was still with me, wasn't he?"

She swallowed thickly, looking more ashamed than ever. "Yes. Before he knew you were pregnant."

Quinn breathed in sharply and waved her hands as she backed away from the other girl. "I can't hear this…I just can't…"

"I'm sorry," Rachel said miserably. "This was such a bad idea. I don't know what I was thinking." She turned away just as the tears began to fall and crouched down to pack up the food.

She was just about to start folding up the blanket when a loud cranking sound made her whirl around. The curtains fell back, brightly opening up the stage to the rest of the auditorium. When they were all the way back, Quinn reappeared and kneeled down beside her without a word. She smoothed out the blanket and arranged the pillows so that she could lie down comfortably.

Rachel looked on, speechless.

"Did you bring me something non-vegan?" she asked lazily, pushing down her Cheerios skirt a little.

"Y-yes," she stammered, still in shock at the abrupt turn, and brushed away the remnants of her tears. "You really still want to?"

Quinn rolled onto her side, propping her head up on her arm. It was a few long moments before she finally spoke. "I'm sorry I yelled at you," she said, running her fingers along the blanket, not looking Rachel in the eye. "I-I don't like knowing that he…" Her voice grew strained, like she was fighting back tears. "I can't handle hearing about you with him. I'm over him cheating on me, I don't really care anymore. It did sting at first that he would betray me like that, but hey, look what I did to him." She shook her head bitterly. "But that it was with you? I-I don't… I hate that he was with you, Rachel. So much. I can't stand it. And then this…when all I want is to forget that he ever got to…"

"I understand," she said remorsefully. "Truly. I'm so sorry, Quinn. I should have given you some warning. In retrospect, it was a discussion we should have had, rather than a surprise."

"But surprises are more romantic, right?" she replied knowingly.

The brunette grinned bashfully and nodded.

She took a deep breath. "You wanted a romantic lunch with me, Rachel Berry, and you're going to have one. Give me food."

She laughed and rolled her eyes. "And that is just so romantic."

Quinn pushed herself up on her arms, leaned in, and kissed her sweetly, lingering in its final few moments as long as she could.

"Is it more romantic now?"

The flush of Rachel's cheeks was her answer.

"Better than him, right?"

Rachel pulled her back to her mouth. "So much better."

When they finally got around to the food, which was actually when Quinn started whining about how hungry she was, Rachel unpacked the picnic basket again and the blonde's eyes widened as she really saw what was there now.

"Don't tell me that's…"

"Yup," Rachel said with a glowing smile. "An assortment of specialties straight from Charlie's Delicatessen."

Quinn's eyes were as round as saucers. "My favorite sandwich?"

"With extra bacon."

She gasped and looked at Rachel, then back at the food, then back to Rachel before launching herself at the other girl. Rachel squealed delightedly and they went tumbling backwards, Quinn kissing her all over her face.

"You – are – the best – ever."

"You only say that because I gave you bacon," Rachel pouted, "which was extremely difficult due to my strong personal beli-"

Quinn muffled the rest by covering her mouth with her own.