This chapter is named after and based on the song 'Never Let Me Go' by Florence and the Machine. Hope you enjoy and thank you for all the reviews.


Never Let Me Go

Rachel knew what Quinn was about to do. Something dangerous was swirling in those striking hazel eyes and as much as she wanted it she couldn't. If they got caught up in the moment again, Rachel would be living with the ramifications of that moment for weeks to come and Quinn would go back to pretending like nothing had even happened.

Still quite drunk and exhilarated from their little sing-along though she may be, she wasn't so desperate for a kiss with Quinn that she was going to fall into whatever trap the blonde was setting, intentionally or not.

Perhaps it was the alcohol that gave her the confidence to get out of Quinn's car and head towards the house.

"Hey, Rachel! Where are you going? Berry!"

She could hear the blonde jogging to catch up with her. Did Quinn just call her Rachel? Then again, she could vaguely remember the girl calling her that earlier in the night…

"Hey! What's your problem?" As Rachel reached the (rather over-the-top but admittedly stunning) entrance to the Fabray house, she was turned around by a strong grasp pulling at her arm. It was a familiar feeling.

Rachel really didn't want to look at Quinn right now – she barely had any resolve left as it was! – but she wasn't really left with much of a choice: the blonde was stood so close to her that there wasn't anywhere else to look and the only thing behind her was the door into the house.

Oh, Barbra!

"It was getting cold in the car," she lied, trying to keep her eyes focused somewhere over Quinn's shoulder.

Quinn took a small step closer so that their bodies were now literally pressed together – oh God – and she heard the taller girl scoff. "I had the heat on and you're wearing my letterman."

Rachel registered the warm, soft fabric covering her bare arms and fought the urge to smile – she was wearing Quinn Fabray's jacket. Like when she used to wear Finn's, except it smelt nicer and was just the right amount of 'too big' and Quinn obviously used a superior fabric softener…

She snapped out of her trance when felt Quinn shift her weight slightly.

"I'm a…cold…person?"

"Why won't you look at me?"

Quinn's words rang through her ears and then ricocheted around her entire body. The blonde was speaking at barely a whisper and her voice actually sounded…soft.

It just made Rachel want to give in to whatever this was which is exactly why she couldn't look at her!

"I can."

"Then look at me."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Mind your own business."

She expected the gentleness in Quinn's voice to be quickly replaced by an icy wrath at that, but instead she heard a quiet chuckle. "I think it is my business when you're stood at my front door but can't even look at me."

Ugh! She did not have the reasoning skills right now to deal with this! If she looked at Quinn then the girl would likely see that Rachel was losing in whatever game she's playing, but then if she didn't look then that showed weakness!

"I can't," she heard herself mumble. She winced – Quinn would surely hear the wobble of her resolve in her voice.

Parallels were a funny thing, Rachel mused. Only five days ago they were in a similar position: Rachel, her back against an immovable object and Quinn, blocking any chance of escape and urging Rachel to look at her. Physically it must look entirely the same as it had in the halls of McKinley on Monday, but everything else about it was different.

Rachel didn't feel long, thin fingers grasp at her chin and force her to meet a cold, hazel gaze. Instead, Rachel looked slowly upwards on her own accord, and was met with eyes swirling with fire. The flames she saw there seemed to have a lot thrown into them.

"I don't understand what's going on," Rachel heard herself whisper, so close to Quinn that she was sure she if she leaned in even a fraction of an inch then their lips would touch.

She felt cold breath blow against her burning cheeks. "Neither do I."

It was Quinn that eventually closed that miniscule gap between them but it was Rachel that wrapped an arm around the blonde's neck in return. Whatever resolve she tried to put up was hopeless: what did the consequences matter if the reward was this?

The kiss wasn't harsh or forceful like the last time: instead, Quinn's lips only brushed along hers before fully pressing them lightly together, and Rachel felt a hand snake leisurely up her side until it reached her cheek.

Rachel always liked Quinn's hair the best when it was released from that constricting ponytail, but never in her life was she so glad the blonde had her hair down as she was today. A thrill shot through her body when she started running her hands through said hair and Quinn nipped at her bottom lip in return.

When her back finally closed that tiny distance and met with the door, Rachel moaned quietly at the feel of Quinn's entire body pressed against her own. How was it even possible to feel this much just from kissing someone? She'd been in positions similar to this with Finn, Puck, and Jesse…and although some of those occasions were pleasant, they were nothing like this!

Quinn's body was just so perfect – they fit together perfectly – that it made Rachel's entire body feel alight. It made her feel excited, which she'd never necessarily felt before when kissing someone until Quinn. She'd been excited emotionally to kiss other people before, but never physically – never with her whole body.

They were so entirely wrapped up in each other that Rachel couldn't even tell whose hands were whose and whose legs were where – all she knew was that she just wanted to melt into the other girl and all she could think was 'never let me go!'

But it still wasn't enough. Rachel tilted her head and pressed a little harder against Quinn's lips, and Quinn returned the gesture by pushing Rachel further into the door and subsequently pushing their bodies impossibly closer together.

Now both of the blonde's hands had travelled to cup her cheeks delicately, but the lightness of the touch contradicted its intention as Rachel found herself pulled in even deeper.

It was only when she felt a small tongue teasing at her lips that she snapped herself out of the trance.


Quinn had never ever had someone turn down a kiss from her before, and she wasn't sure if she should be relieved or annoyed. Her brain was screaming 'relieved!', but literally everything else was screaming the exact opposite and now she had an uncomfortable, pained feeling in her stomach and it was all stupid Berry's fault!

"What is it?" she half-whispered, half-whined, forehead resting against Rachel's when the brunette pulled away from the kiss.

Quinn felt the girl try to pull away completely so she resisted by firming up her grip on Rachel's cheeks. It probably seemed desperate, but she didn't care. She was desperate.

"I-I…I just can't do this."

"But we were just doing it."

Quinn felt herself blush when she realised the implication of her own words.

"Quinn…" She exhaled in quiet relief when she felt Rachel's hands cover her own that were still cupping burning cheeks. "Quinn, can we please just go inside?"

Yeah, the relief was short-lived because turns out Rachel only placed her tiny hands over her own to pry them off.

Why couldn't she just have this one thing? This one damn moment? Why did God hate her so much? Pre-marital pregnancy, repressed lesbianism and general bitchiness aside, couldn't God just give her a freaking break?!

Okay, so maybe pleading to God to help her carry on a make-out session with another girl wasn't the best way forward, but nothing else was working so screw it!

"Quinn, please."

Rachel, who was now looking at her with wide doe eyes that looked close to tears, snapped her out of her internal meltdown. Crap!

Quinn took a few steps back, cast her eyes away from Rachel and waited until she saw the girl move away from the door in her peripheral. Why did Rachel want to stop? She seemed to be enjoying it enough a few moments ago! And how the hell was she going to explain this away when it brought their kiss count up to two in one week?

God, she felt like a total creeper!

Freaking out but forcing herself not to let it show, Quinn dug her keys out of her pocket and unlocked the door. It didn't even occur to her until Berry was already stepping into her house how nervous she was for the other girl to see it.

She'd never actually been inside the Berry home, but she'd seen it from the outside and you can practically feel the warmth exuding from the house even from across the street. There was little doubt in Quinn's mind that although Rachel's house was smaller in size, it would hold within it a hell of a lot more substance than the Fabray's empty mansion.

Since Quinn moved back in, she and her mom had made some effort to make the house feel more like a home and less like a showroom, but that wasn't the easiest thing to do when their relationship was still broken. Mending, but broken.

Quinn wondered just how much more broken it could get as she quietly closed the door behind herself and Rachel.

"My mom is asleep upstairs," she mumbled, still feeling embarrassed and confused and angry and hurt, "so don't be too loud. She's a pretty heavy sleeper but until we're in my room we should probably whisper."

It only seemed to dawn on them both, in that exact moment, that they would be going to Quinn's room. Alone. In a bedroom. With a bed.

Rachel looked kind of scared but Quinn figured the girl was probably self-conscious and frightened over sharing a room with her. Quinn was scared too, but for entirely different reasons.

"Quinn, I –

"I'm going to get you a glass of water," she cut the girl off, not wanting to hear whatever it was Berry had to say. She couldn't hear it right now. "It'll help with the…being drunk."

Oh, great, now she was sounding like some inarticulate, nervous teenage boy or something!

"I don't feel that drunk anymo-

"Just wait there for a sec."

Quinn seriously needed a minute. She needed a minute to not be in the same room as Rachel and to get her damn head together and stop being such a freaking moron. And to kick something!

Grabbing a glass from the cupboard, Quinn cast her eyes to a note left on the kitchen table.

Waited up for a while but up early tomorrow for meeting with lawyer. Hope you had a good night Quinnie.

Mom x

Quinn's eyes lingered on the note for a moment. She knew what her mom was doing: in previous years she'd be bombarded with anxious texts asking for her whereabouts, when she'd be home, etc. Now Judy wanted to give Quinn the illusion that she had control over her own life.

She picked up the note and put it in the bin. At least she could relax knowing her mom wouldn't be hovering around the house all day tomorrow.

Walking back through the house and into the hall, Quinn handed the glass to Rachel without comment. Or eye contact.

'How bad would it be if I just told her to leave?'

'Pretty bad! It's like 3am and dark and her house is miles away and she's still pretty drunk!'

'Someone would help her'

'You know that isn't true'

Quinn gritted her teeth and made a 'follow me' motion, still refusing to look at Rachel, then headed up the stairs.

'Just put her in a spare room – it's not like this house is lacking in them'

'Yeah and risk mom walking in and finding her! NO THANKS'

She could see from her peripheral that Rachel was about to head up another flight of stairs. Like most guests she'd ever had, Rachel was paying more attention to the house and all its décor than she was to Quinn. "My room is on the first floor."

"Oh."

Quinn headed down the first floor hallway as soon as she heard feet scamper down the couple of stairs the girl must have already climbed.

Even though Quinn had personally seen to it that every picture that so much as nodded towards Lucy's existence was literally burnt, she still felt anxious having Rachel walk down a hall full of void family photos. The girl was probably studying each and every picture with obsessive detail or whatever and it made Quinn feel uncomfortable.

"My room's here," she said, opening the door and pointing unenthusiastically. Why the hell couldn't she shake this damn self-consciousness?!

God, is this what regular girls feel like?

"It's very…big."

Quinn, still not looking at the girl now scrutinising her room, stood awkwardly by her dresser and laughed humourlessly. "And lacking substance."

Shut up shut up shut up! What did her stupid mouth think it was, 'make yourself vulnerable to Rachel freaking Berry as much as you possibly can day'?!

She expected something kind and typically Rachel in response, but what she got instead surprised and pissed her off enough to finally look at her again: "Puck specifically told me that you wouldn't be at the party."

"Oh, I'm sorry, was my presence there a problem for you?" She couldn't believe her!

Rachel was perched nervously at the very edge of her bed, and Quinn noticed that her once-ecstatic demeanour had changed into something much more recognisable to Quinn: self-consciousness. Yeah, so maybe it was pathologically evil that that made her feel somewhat relieved, but whatever.

"N-No, no, it's not that," Rachel rushed, running her hands nervously up and down her legs.

Quinn quirked a brow, feeling her power coming back to her as Rachel's so obviously faltered. Yeah, evil.

"Then what is it?"

"Is this all a prank?"

Um, what?

Quinn found herself stepping away from the dresser and slowly towards the bed. "Is what a prank?"

Why couldn't Rachel look at her again? Why did she look like she was about to burst into tears or run for the hills or both? Why could the mood between them not stay consistent for five freaking minutes?!

"This whole thing. The kiss last week and the kiss again today. Me being at the party which makes no sense because I never get invited anywhere and all of a sudden I'm invited to Puck's and reassured that you won't be there but you are," – Quinn made a silent note of that - who the hell told Berry she wouldn't be there and why?! "and then all of a sudden I'm assaulted by an icy beverage and you of all people come to my rescue and then you kiss me again and Santana is saying all these strange things and now I'm at your house and a-and I just… I can't handle whatever this is, Quinn!"

With every nervously rambled word, Quinn felt her stomach drop further and further. The girl sat in front of her looked like she was about to have a nervous breakdown – hands, voice, legs shaking. It made Quinn feel sick.

'Does she seriously think I'm so evil that I'd plan something this elaborate to…to what?'

"Wait, you…you think this is all some prank? The kiss, the party, the drink, you being here…?" she said quietly, managing to keep her voice even despite how she felt.

"Yes!" the girl cried, dragging a shaking hand over her face and through her hair.

'Well, there's your answer. Are you really surprised?'

How Quinn didn't vomit right then she had no idea. "But…why? I-I mean, I know I'm a bitch but what would be the point? It doesn't make any sense."

Rachel's gaze shot up and Quinn was met full force with wide brown orbs pooling with unshed tears. The brunette was imploding. "I don't know, Quinn!" the girl shouted, throwing her arms out. "To humiliate me! To get revenge on me for stealing Finn! To make me fall for you so that the whole school can laugh at Rachel Berry: the Glee Club loser with two gay dads that's now gay herself!"

Quinn felt her throat constrict. "A-Are you? Gay, I mean."

She knew that was the wrong thing to focus on right now but she couldn't help it!

"Oh my God. Oh my God." Okay, apparently that was the wrong thing to say as well because now Rachel was pretty much hyperventilating. Shit!

Quinn rushed forwards to sit on the bed beside Rachel – how the hell do you deal with someone having a panic attack?! – but the brunette started pushing her away as soon as she got within arm's length.

"I knew it. I knew it. Oh, Barbra, I'm such a fool!"

She seriously had no idea what the hell to do since she barely even knew what this was all about! All she knew was she needed Rachel to stop crying and talking about this because Quinn's head felt like it was going to explode.

"Knew what?"

"That this was all some prank!"

"All I did was ask you if you're ga-

"I'M NOT GAY!"

Quinn winced, both because she was worried the sheer volume of Rachel's scream might wake her mom up but mostly because those three words crushed whatever weird, twisted hope she had for a whole ten seconds.

"Okay, okay," she rushed, even though she felt anything but. She just needed Rachel to stop freaking out! "Look, I don't-

"I'm going to need to transfer schools. I can't keep dealing with this, Quinn! I already-

"It wasn't a prank."

"What?"

WHAT?

Quinn froze at the same time Rachel did and they stared at each other blankly.

"I said it wasn't a prank."

Quinn seriously thought she was going to throw up or pass out or just die on the spot but all she knew was she needed Rachel to stop freaking out and sobbing like that and talking about moving schools and-

"Then what was it?" she heard the girl sniffle between sobs, watery brown eyes now staring at her untrustingly.

Quinn gulped down what felt like a throat full of vomit and tried to grasp at something – anything to calm Rachel down and get some grip of what the hell was going on without so much as hinting at the truth.

"It doesn't matter. Just know that it wasn't a prank, okay? I-I know I'm a bitch to you and you have no reason to trust me but come on. I t-told you that I didn't want you to get taken advantage of like I was –

"That doesn't explain the kiss!"

Quinn felt white-hot panic shoot up her entire body. "It doesn't matter, but it wasn't a prank. Nothing about tonight will leave this room." Quinn would probably personally murder an entire continent of fucking penguins to make sure nothing about this night left the room, so for once she wasn't even lying!

"It matters to me."

"Just forget it, Rachel!"

"I'm not you; I can't just forget everything and -

"Look, I spend all my time with Santana and Brittany and I just…I wanted to see what all the fuss was about, okay? I was just curious about what it would feel like to kiss a girl and we were alone and you're an easy target and I knew that I'd be able to keep you quiet so I chose you. I'm sorry if it meant something to you or whatever. Earlier I just got caught up in the moment."

Okay, that was one hell of a compromise on Quinn's part and pretty much the nicest way she was willing to deal with this whole situation so why the hell was Rachel getting up from the bed and marching towards her bedroom door?

"Where are you going?" Quinn was already on her feet and following after the retreating brunette.

"Home!"

Okay, Rachel wasn't just crying anymore – she was weeping. Crap!

"You can't just go home! It's the middle of the night and you're drunk!"

"I've sobered up."

If she'd really sobered up, Rachel would have reached the bedroom door by now. Quinn was seriously glad that she hadn't.

"Not enough and your house is miles away!"

"Leave me alone, Quinn!"

"No! Why are you so upset?"

"Mind your own business!"

That's it; she was letting Berry keep a lead on her because she hoped the girl would calm down if she gave her some physical space (and she also didn't want her to think she was trying to kidnap her or something), but the girl was getting too close to the door for Quinn's liking.

"Get out of my way, Quinn," Rachel cried when Quinn rushed ahead of her and blocked the door.

"No. Why are you so upset?"

It made no sense! She'd told Berry it wasn't a prank so what were all the tears about? Sure, the girl said that the kiss had meant something but…well, it wasn't like Rachel was in love with her or anything! She'd literally just spent the last year chasing after Finn like some sad, pathetic puppy so why was she getting so het up over some stupid kisses that never should have happened! Was Berry seriously such a romantic that every kiss, whether she wanted it or not, needed to be from some place of undying love or something?

If anyone should be crying right now, Quinn was pretty sure it should be herself! She was doomed to spend a life alone in Lima while Rachel marries some dumb 'leading man material' loser and talks on reality TV about that time she 'experimented' with some 'evil cheerleader' and-

"Because! I've never kissed anyone like that before! Finn, Noah, Jesse – none of them felt like that and to you it's simply either some conniving prank at worst or some meaningless experiment at best!"

Quinn felt her chest clench. Rachel's eyes were overflowing with sincerity and pain and sadness and longing and-

"And I can't believe that every time I look at someone that thinks I'm ugly and mannish and annoying and a freak and simply some expendable toy, all I want to do is ask her how her day went then kiss her!"

Rachel let out those final two words in a shouted yet strangled sob. Quinn could feel her heart seeping to the cool wooden floor and burning at the frantic brunette's feet. She needed Rachel to know she was everything but all that. It shouldn't even shock her that Rachel thought those things: it should come as no surprise whatsoever and should, really, fill Quinn with a deep sense of personal, malicious satisfaction at finally breaking that unwavering, taking-the-high-ground indifference that Rachel always fought Quinn's rage with.

Instead Quinn felt like someone had plunged a knife into an ice bucket then stuck it into her stomach.

Rachel was throwing feeling back at her, not some indignant rant about the pointlessness of Quinn's mean nicknames or the sharpness of her singing or whatever other sunny, optimistic response the girl would usually give to all her bullshit.

"Now get out of my way! I'd rather freeze to death than stay here and humiliate myself for another minute," the girl sobbed, trying to barge an immobile Quinn out the way of the door.

She might as well be made of stone.

Maybe it was the way Rachel was breathing so heavily only inches from her face. Maybe it was the way Rachel wearing her Cheerios letterman made her feel all excited and warm inside. Maybe it was the way her gym t-shirt was stuck to the girl's skin and because of that Quinn could see the outline of Rachel's breasts. Maybe it was the way she looked seriously sexy with wet hair. Maybe it was the fact that Rachel just said something – those impossible, forbidden words – that meant that maybe, just maybe, she felt even a little of what Quinn felt for her. Maybe it was the tears in her eyes or inconsolable sadness in them that made Quinn just need to make it stop: to make it better.

Maybe it was the sheer mistake of it all.

Whatever the reason, Quinn found herself closing the distance between them at the very same time Rachel tried to get past.

She held the girl's cheeks in her hands – even more delicately than she had outside – and tried to convey everything she couldn't say out loud through her eyes. She wasn't sure how long her lips took to follow suit.

"Don't leave," she heard herself whisper, only after placing feather-light kisses on either side of the cheeks she was cradling.

The rest already seemed to come naturally.

It wasn't bruising or forceful or rushed like their last kisses were; instead, Quinn brushed her thumb along the soft skin her hands were blessed to be finding refuge on when she brushed her lips against the brunette's.

Quinn knew it was wrong: Rachel was upset and still nowhere near sober and doing this again wasn't a good idea for either of them. She knew it was wrong, but that didn't stop her from reaching down to lift the girl's thighs and wrap them around her middle as soon as she felt Rachel tentatively kiss back. It was wrong but it felt so fucking good.

At least kissing was silent: she couldn't incriminate herself by saying something irreversible aloud. That's what she'd tell herself, anyway.

Although Rachel wrapped her arms around Quinn's neck as soon as she lifted the smaller girl off the ground, Quinn could feel that she was still being hesitant. It was clear Rachel still wasn't sure just how much Quinn meant this – just how much it wasn't some meaningless experiment.

"It isn't some experiment," she whispered breathlessly between kisses, "I lied."

Rachel pulled back so that their foreheads and noses were touching, but Quinn knew they both had their eyes squeezed shut. "W-What do you mean?"

Quinn could feel it. Not just Rachel's nose brushed against her own or small, toned legs around her waist or wet hair now tangled with her own – no, she felt alive. Exhilarated. Like she wasn't just living a phantom life that God or her parents or society had set out for her. She was deviating from that precious Holy fucking path.

Hell, she was burning that stupid damn path to the ground.

"Let me show you what I mean."

With that, those words truer than anything she'd said or felt in a long time whispered along the side of Rachel's cheek, Quinn reconnected their lips.

If the last time was about reassurance then this was about proving a point – proving herself: proving something to Rachel and proving something to herself. Happiness could be there for her – for them both – even if it had to be at midnight while the rest of the world slept.

Quinn never thought that Rachel would feel anything for anyone who wasn't a six foot-plus, Broadway-worthy leading man and now she knew that wasn't the case Quinn really didn't give a shit about anything else.

Nothing made any sense but right now it didn't have to.

"Are you getting it?"

Quinn was glad to discover that Rachel was on the same page when she heard a breathed-out "yes" in return.

She was pretty sure she'd be happy if things never made sense again: Quinn was throwing herself into the deep end it had never felt so good to let go.


"Yes."

She didn't get it – she didn't even really know what 'it' was – but she got it enough to know now that this meant something to Quinn too. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the sheer exhilaration of having her feelings at least somewhat returned, but Rachel breathed the words into Quinn's ear before reconnecting their lips and wrapping her arms even tighter around the taller girl with no intention of ever letting go.

Rachel was helpless to do anything but moan when Quinn's tongue finally tangled with her own. It wasn't invasive or overbearing or anticlimactic like it had been with others: instead it was everything. It was wanting to crawl inside Quinn and have Quinn crawl inside her until neither of them even existed anymore.

There was no rush, no competition to it – it was frenzied only in the sense that they were desperate to explore each other. To share everything with each other that neither of them would or could say aloud.

Although it already felt like everything, Rachel needed more. As if reading her mind, she felt Quinn's strong, careful hands grip the backs of her thighs tighter and pull her further into her own lithe body.

She was so wrapped up in Quinn – literally and figuratively – it was only when she felt her body sink into a soft, engulfing mattress that she realised the blonde had been carrying them both towards the bed.


Hope you enjoyed.