**Hello, my Lovelies…I know, I missed two weeks. If you have me on Tumblr (loveisforlovelies) I posted an explanation for my lack of activity. Plain and simple: I am going through a funk and have little motivation to get my fic-writing-act together, so my apologies to you.

However, I was able to get back to everyone this time! If you didn't get a PM from me it's because I tried and was informed that you have not enabled the PM feature for your account (or you reviewed after I swept through the comments, sorry). So, anyway, thanks to everyone who shared your thoughts and to those who quietly stop by just for the read; I hope you all enjoy this one.

P.S. It's actually not what I had intended…It's much shorter. To those who received the spoilers, this is actually a build-up to those spoilers…I know, I've been such a mess I can't even follow my own story outlines :( especially that darn Rachel rant that I've rewritten a jillion times and I still can't get it right!

BUT fret not…I decided to let Quinn do the rambling, instead; difference is, I think what she says makes for a better plot-point that will carry on into the next chapter (which I PROMISE to have ready for you next Monday).

Okay, I'll shut up, now…

RECAP:

The club applauds and Sam and Mercedes go to hug the still nervous blonde, as Mr. Schue pats her back.

"That was great!" The three of them say together, as everyone else crowds around to hug her. It's times like this when I'm glad that I'm part of Glee. When one of us is attacked, we all protect and comfort that person, so as I watch the blonde disappear amongst the hug fest, I smile and wipe my face, not sure if I'm happy or sad or just bi-polar. I look at Harmony, as the crowd separates and she gets up to hug Quinn, who wraps her arms around her and squeezes her tight. Everyone watches with smiles on their faces, thankful to see that things are no longer awkward between the pair. When they finally untangle themselves, Quinn looks up at me and then nervously looks at her shoes.

"So, I gotta go, now…I need to pick up the homework from the classes I missed." She gives everyone another hug and they all say how good she was, even Santana, who never dishes out compliments. I want to get up from my seat, but I'm so tightly wound in my internal struggle to not burst into tears and a crazy-psycho smile, that I can't move a muscle. It's only when she's walking out the door do I wonder if singing a song to me counts as her coming to me, first…I don't debate with myself; instead I run after her.

CHAPTER 13: Eight Years is a Long Time

"Qui-" I yell from behind, before I'm completely out of the choir room door; and as soon as I start to turn I bump into her. "Oh my God," I whisper a little breathless, at being so close to her.

"Sorry; I –" She steps back, looks down at her Superman Converse shoes, and nervously plays with one of the suspender clips, with the hand that isn't holding her guitar case. "I had no intention of startling you…" Her head lifts slightly, as she squeaks out, "I was hoping that you'd join me?" She turns her head to the side a little, in a gesture that suggests that we walk.

I nod dumbly, focused on the clenching of her jaw, as she tries not to blurt out whatever words she's struggling to keep tucked deep within her confines. I know how she feels; I'm about ready to explode if I can't say what I want to say to her…All these feelings I have inside are eager to introduce themselves to her; not even bothering to let me evaluate their sanity before they go and forcefully try to seduce her with their obsessive desires. She returns the nod and then continues down the hall; I follow closely, not wanting to put distance between us. Her bare forearm ever so lightly brushes against mine, as we walk side to side; the contact makes me yearn for more and I wonder if she knows what this skin to skin kiss is doing to me.

"Is the auditorium a suitable place to further engage in conversation?" She asks, not meeting my eyes, but rather looking at the lockers we pass.

"Mmhm," I hum, not being able to do much less, as she holds the door open for me. A feeling of being home comes over me and I relish the comfort that snuggles inside me every time I'm in here. This auditorium has become a sort of sanctuary for me. For the three years that I've been at this school, this is the room where I've been allowed to be myself, without having to fit perfectly into the "Rachel Berry: Head Cheerio, Glee Club Captain, Most popular girl in school" box. I smile and turn in time to see the light from the hall disappear behind Quinn's silhouette.

"This is the perfect place," I add, letting my eyes adjust to the dark room. I point to the stage behind me, "Let's sit."

She nods and follows me down the slope and toward the front. Just as I'm about to pass the front row to the stage stairs, Quinn softly touches my wrist; her fingertips graze the skin, causing goosebumps to travel up my arm.

"Is it okay if we sit, here, instead?" She looks at the seats in the front row and back to me. I can tell she's nervous and entirely too pale, even in this dim light.

"Of course, Quinn…anything you want, as long as you're comfortable."

She gives me a short-lived smile and holds her hand out, gesturing for me to go first, so I do. I stop in front of the seat next to the one in the middle, so she can be front and center…a metaphor that I think is appropriate for this conversation. I can save the rant that I've been practicing in my head for another time. I want her to know that she has my full attention. We both sit at the same time, after Quinn carefully sets down her guitar case. I shift in my seat, turning my body to the side, so I can look at her without having to turn my head. She wasn't expecting this because she quickly turns to look at me and my new position, then nervously faces the stage, again.

A frown forms on my face; despite her initiating this private meeting, her body language proves that she's having second thoughts. I'm not sure how to carry on from here; it's obvious that she wants to say something, but she's too tense. She continues watching the stage, as her body leans forward a little. Her profile is stunning; her jaw is so perfect and strong, her cute nose isn't too big or too small, her lips look full even from a side view…and her eyes; the light from the stage reflects into the green irises, as if they're twinkling in amazement. She's so taking with the stage that her nervous energy fades, as that adorable smile lifts the corners of her lips; and I'm so taken aback by her happiness that I'm startled when she finally speaks, without turning away from the stage.

"Do you remember when I would come here to watch you practice, every morning?" Her smile widens and she turns to face me.

I nod, my lips slightly parted…wanting to kiss her, badly.

"And you always told me to leave, but after so many mornings of returning, you let me stay…" She's looking down at her hands, as they strum against her lap.

"Yes," I answer, pushing up the armrest that's separating us and moving in closer to her. She shrinks into her seat, as I slowly place a hand over her strumming fingers. She holds her breath and waits, until she see's I'm only trying to comfort her. Her body relaxes and she smiles. "Why did you stop coming?" I ask…and her smile drops as soon as the question does.

Her brow furrows, she pulls her hands away from mine, and quietly says, "You started dating Finn and one day I walked in and saw you two having a picnic on the stage…I left before either of you could notice me." She sits up in her seat and turns her head to the empty one next to her. "I stopped after that…You had him to watch you and tell you how great you are. Plus, I figured you rather perform for him. I know you didn't really want me around, so…Guess it benefitted everyone." She chuckles without any real humor in her voice.

"How did you benefit?" I ask, not understanding. "I thought you liked watching me?"

She breathes out another small humorless laugh and shakes her head. "I did…I still do. I only benefitted from not walking in and seeing you two sing love songs to each other. I get enough of that in Glee."

I frown at that, and she quickly faces me, shocked by her own words.

"I'm sorry," she squeaks out, wincing at how she practically threw that back in my face. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean it like that. That was very rude and completely childish of me," she's studying my expression, as I take her comment for what it is…I don't blame her. "I mean, I think you're amazing; it's just watching you sing to…" she trails off in a quiet whimper.

"No, I understand; it's fine." I say, nodding as I look down feeling embarrassed.

She hesitates to reach out and touch me in some way. Her hand hovers over mine, but when I don't move, she pulls it back.

"I'm really sorry, Rachel…I'm so stupid; I'm just jealous; and jealousy makes one deflect distaste toward certain things, regardless of the fact that those certain things don't deserve it." She pauses and lets me take in her words. It's so strange to hear her say something like that. I'm not clueless, I know she was always jealous of Finn and my relationship with him; but to actually hear her say it…it's so odd. Maybe it's because she's never acted out or even mentioned it; she's always been a kind and gentle person, despite how other people treat her. I guess, I never really thought that someone so…perfect?...could be jealous.

She runs a hand through her short blonde hair, clearly starting to panic at my lack of response. "I mean…I love your talent, Rachel; it's inspiring." She stops and places a hand on mine. "Every time I look up at that stage," her eyes move across it in wonder. "Every time…I can't help but imagine you on it. You're so beautiful up there, you know. You're in your element, in your glory…It's hard not to feel something," she lifts both our hands and places the back of hers against my chest. My heart beats wildly, chaotically, joyously upon being acknowledged by her. I wonder if she can feel the pounding. She smiles and drops our hands to let them rest between us, "The day I come across your face on a Broadway poster, or in movie theatre, or on TV, or on an album cover, or a billboard, or even a magazine…I'm going to remember this. I'm going to look at your face and see how beautiful you'll still be; and I'm not going to feel anything, but an overwhelming sense of pride; I'm going to be so impossibly proud of you, Rachel Barbra Berry." She swipes her thumb across my cheeks to catch the tears, as my mega-watt smile forces them out, "And I'm going to smile just like you are, right now," she leans in closer and lets her thumb trace along my bottom lip, "and I'm going to say, 'There she is…There's the girl I'll always love…my Lois.'"

I see the playful curl of her lips, but her eyes are completely serious; the sadness in them gives her away. It's hard to swallow…I can't move. Did she just say that she loves me? That she'll always love me?

"Q – Quinn…" I stutter and feel warmth spread across my cheeks like a wildfire. She scoots closer toward me, until the tips of our noses touch; I feel her hands grasp onto mine, a little tighter. The contact forces my eyes closed and my mouth to clamp shut; I don't want to risk saying anything stupid.

Her nose starts to rub against mine; and she softly whispers, "Rachel…I want to kiss you."

I know what she said, but all I heard was, "Rachel…I love you." I pull away from her, opening my eyes to see her slowly open hers and then the confused look on her face.

I shake my head and feel a panic rise in me…I'm just as confused as she is. "I'm sorry, Quinn. I can't – I – Did you say that you'll always love me?" I blurt out the question as if I just heard it a second ago.

Her eyes widen and she bites the side of her bottom lip, before nodding in confirmation. "Yes. I said it because it's true…I mean, I figured you already knew that; eight years is a long time." She explains, rubbing at her neck nervously and self-consciously.

"How do you know that?" I counter, feeling overwhelmed and self-conscious, as well. "Always is a long time, too."

Her brows knit together, as a pout forms on her face, "Because...Even if we never speak again, after graduation, I'll have my memories of you, of us…of everything that you've made me feel. Because even though, I felt rejected, sometimes, and you called me a geek or whatever…you never made me feel bad about my…" she looks down at her lap and blushes, "You never made me feel like a freak…a geek? Yeah, sure because I am a geek; but you never once made fun of my condition." Her gaze drifts back to me and she continues, "I know it seems absurd, but it's true, Rachel. I've cared deeply for you for eight years; and somewhere along the line I became yours…whether you want me to be or not."

My body is shaking and she looks so vulnerable that I don't want to say anything in case it's not the right thing she needs to hear.

I can feel her eyes on me and I can hear the little squeaky whimper trying to push up her throat and the gulp of air she takes to force the noise back down.

"Please say something," she manages to say without squeaking. "Please…" her voice is a quiet whisper and its softness melts my insides. "You don't have to say it back. I know you barely like me…as a friend…I think?" The squeakiness returns, as she starts to get nervous, "I'm sorry…I shouldn't have said anything. I shouldn't have brought you here," she pushes herself up out of her seat and reaches down for her guitar case.

"Quinn, wait!" I shout, my voice echoing off the walls. She stops, but doesn't turn around to look at me. Her head drops down, causing her hair to fall to the sides of her face, exposing the back of her neck. I step up behind her and stand on my tippy-toes to kiss the smooth column of skin in front of me.

"I have your Spanish homework…We're partners for the next presentation." I let my lips caress her neck for a few more seconds, before grabbing her free hand and dragging her out of the auditorium.

/END CHAPTER\

**Okay, so I know it's short and again, I'm sorry for the wait, but I just wanted to get something out there, otherwise I'd just let this story collect cyber dust…and I don't think Super Geek would take too kindly to that. Anyway, I feel iffy about it, so let me know if there's something I can work on.

Thanks, Lovelies…until next time.