Hey all,

I'm sorry about the long-ish wait for this update—real life got in the way of Faberry fun. I'm also sorry this chap isn't very long…I thought about holding off on posting this till I had time to make it longer, but then I thought that you'd probably rather have something now than nothing at all. Rest assured, the next update won't be such a long wait—I have a 5 hour train ride to my dad's next week for Thanksgiving, then another 5 hour train ride home! Train time = writing time = more updates for you. So, I hope you'll enjoy this little Faberry appetizer—Happy Thanksgiving!

-JW

Take Me As I Am

Chapter 25

By JewWitch

…

Rachel wrapped her scarf around her neck and rubbed her mitten-covered hands together. It had been unseasonably warm up until a few days ago, but now it seemed that November had suddenly remembered that it was supposed to be cold, and was making up for lost time. Normally, the dark-haired girl wouldn't risk her voice and her health by sitting around on cold metal stadium stands for hours on end in frigid weather like this; but her idea of "normal" had been pretty thoroughly upended once Quinn came into her life, and she wasn't about to miss the chance to watch her girlfriend cheer. Besides, what if people noticed her absence and thought Quinn was available? Rachel couldn't have that.

"Cocoa, miss thang?" Blaine asked, offering her a cupful of steaming hot cocoa from the thermos at his feet.

"As I have repeatedly told you, Blaine, I'm a vegan. But go ahead and ruin your own vocal chords with hormone-infested dairy products; it will make my victory over you at Sectionals that much easier."

"Ooh, sass! Well I suppose I'll just have to enjoy this delicious soy hot cocoa all by myself…" He had the cup halfway to his lips when Rachel grabbed it, and the dark-haired boy burst into laughter.

"You should've said the soy part first," she sniped; then when she saw his sly grin and realized he was just messing with her, an unwilling smile spread across her face. "Sass yourself," she added, taking a long sip. "Mmmm."

"Cheers, queers," Blaine smirked, toasting her with his own cup. Rachel giggled and toasted him back.

"I have to admit, it is rather nice to have your company out here. Everyone else from Glee who comes to football games is out on the field, and though I certainly enjoy watching Quinn shine, she's not performing every single minute. The actual football part is about as interesting to me as watching paint dry."

"Well thank you darling, you're not such bad company yourself. Though I have to admit, I do enjoy watching the game…especially since your team always loses."

"Yeah. They suck," Rachel shrugged disinterestedly. "But our Cheerios are champions!" As she spoke, the buzzer sounded for halftime, and the battered football team trudged to the sidelines as the cheerleaders took the field. Rachel and Blaine both beamed, so focused on the objects of their affection that they didn't notice the opposing cheer squad at first. But slowly, the uneasy snickering around them got louder, and Rachel finally tore her eyes away from Quinn to see what the other team was doing.

"Queerios! Queerios!" The Carmel cheer squad was jeering, their routine a mockery of limp-wristed, prissy sashays. Then they lifted up their captain, sporting a blond wig and bearing a hand-made sign with the words McKinley High Head Dyke scrawled across it in big bubble letters. Rachel's jaw dropped. Sure, it wasn't a huge shock to see cheerleaders being homophobic jerks; but this was cheerleaders being homophobic jerks to other cheerleaders, in front of a football stadium full of people. The reactions of said audience were mixed; a few stood up and booed, a few laughed, but mostly people seemed uncomfortable and embarrassed…which, obviously, was the point.

"Ignorant assholes," Blaine growled. Rachel nodded mutely. She wasn't sure what to do—she knew that Quinn was both proud and headstrong, and for her to intercede might send the message that she didn't think Quinn could fight her own battles. On the other hand, the blonde girl had never really faced homophobic bullying before—and right now, even from up in the stands, Rachel could see the shocked, deer-in-the-headlights look on her girlfriend's face as she stood frozen, pompoms dangling limply at her sides, staring at the parody being made of her.

Before Rachel reached a decision, Santana spared her by breaking ranks and charging at the other team with her fists. That effectively ended their taunting cheer, and the fiery Latina managed to bloody three faces before Coach Sylvester pulled her off the opposing team and started shouting—not, as everyone expected, at Santana, but rather at the other team's coach. It was such a shock to see Sue Sylvester actually defending her students, and yelling at another coach about proper sportsmanship and bullying, that Rachel was temporarily transfixed.

"Should we go after them?" Blaine asked, jolting Rachel out of her temporary Sue Sylvester shock-and-awe trance.

"Huh?"

"Quinn and Kurt. Didn't you see? Quinn just ran off the field, and Kurt followed her."

….

They found their Cheerios in the girls' locker room. Quinn was sitting on the cold concrete floor with her back to the lockers and her knees pulled up to her chest, face hidden, crying softly. Kurt was standing above her with his arms crossed, and an impatient look on his face.

"Honestly, Quinn, you should be grateful you haven't had to deal with any of this sooner. Did you think that being a cute blonde cheerleader would protect you from ever getting gaybashed for the rest of your life? Really, I thought you were smart or something."

"Shut your mouth, Kurt Hummel," Rachel snapped, glaring at him as she crouched down beside Quinn on the floor. Kurt just rolled his eyes at Blaine, who squeezed his shoulder sympathetically. It was obvious Kurt resented Quinn's thin-skinned reaction to the taunting he'd been enduring stoically all his life. And while in theory, Rachel sympathized—she'd gone through it too, because of her dads—she didn't want to see her girlfriend suffer through it, either.

"Quinn, are you okay? Get off the floor, it's freezing…c'mon, stand up." Rachel tugged on her girlfriend's arm. Quinn stood up and kicked the lockers, hard.

"Dyke drama," Blaine stage-whispered to Kurt, who giggled. Rachel glared at them.

"Feel free to leave if you can't find a way to make yourselves useful," she snapped at the boys, who immediately dropped their grins.

"Look, Rachel, I don't know what you want us to say," Blaine shrugged sympathetically. This is Ohio. Homophobia is everywhere. Just because the two of you are all girly and non-threatening doesn't make you exempt. Running away from the bullies isn't helping anything—if anything, it tells them to just keep on doing what they're doing, because it's working. You can't let them chase you off your own field, Quinn."

"I know, okay?" Quinn yelled, kicking the lockers again. "I'm sorry! I'm not the perfect unflappable queer youth poster child like you guys. Just give me a God damn minute to get it together, will you? Fuck!" Everyone fell silent then. Rachel put her hand on Quinn's shoulder, but Quinn shrugged her off.

"Quinn…" Rachel murmured gently, desperate to say the right thing that would make it all better.

"Don't, Rach. Just don't. Please just leave me alone for a few minutes, okay? I know I can't hide in here all night, but…please, just let me be."

"Uhh…okay…" Rachel gulped, blinking back the tears that sprang up as the blonde-haired girl turned her back on her. She just wanted to fix it so badly. "I…I'll just go back to my seat, then…I'll wait for you after the game, okay?"

"Fine."

After the game, Quinn said she had a headache and just wanted to go home. Normally Rachel would've offered (or insisted, more likely) to come along, happy to spend a lazy night in with her girlfriend on the couch, cuddling her until she felt better. But right now, Rachel could tell that Quinn didn't want company; and even though it felt like a punch in the stomach, she tried not to take it personally. She didn't want to go to Puck's party on her own, either, so she just went home, spending the night playing Scrabble and eating soy ice cream with her dads. She didn't tell them about the incident at the football game; just that Quinn went home early with a headache.

The next day was the start of Thanksgiving break, and Rachel went over to Quinn's as soon as she woke up, without calling first. The blonde girl answered the door still in her pajamas, looking adorably disheveled.

"Hi," Rachel said nervously, twisting the end of her scarf between her fingers. "Can I come in?"

"Hmmm, I dunno," Quinn mused, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "What are you gonna do to make it worth my while?" Smiling a hundred-watt Rachel Berry smile, the dark-haired girl slipped her cold fingers into Quinn's hair and kissed her thoroughly. "Okay, that was definitely while-worthy," Quinn sighed, and Rachel giggled, following her girlfriend into the warm house.

"Quinn, about last night"—

"I don't want to talk about last night, Rach. I know I suck. I totally failed at standing up for myself. I'll do better next time. Let's just move on, okay?"

"Quinn Fabray, you do not suck." Rachel scolded, hands on her hips. "Not unless I ask you to, anyway. Then you're quite good at it."

"Gutterbrain," Quinn smirked, rolling her eyes.

"You love it," Rachel insisted, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend's neck.

"I love it," Quinn agreed, leaning down and kissing her deeply. Rachel sighed blissfully.

"So, your mom's at work, right?"

"Mm-hmm," Quinn agreed, her hands slipping under Rachel's sweater to tease the small of her back. "Wanna go upstairs? We have a couple of hours to kill before we have to go back to your place."

"What are you talking about? We have all day," Rachel disagreed.

"Um, no, we have until 11, which is what time I told your dad I'd come over to be his Thanksgiving sous-chef."

"What? You're helping my dad cook when you could've spent the whole day here with me, in a completely unsupervised house?"

"Well when you say it like that…"

"Quinn!"

"Rachel!" Quinn laughed at the indignant pout on the smaller girl's face. "You know I like to cook, and I miss spending time with your dads since I moved out. And furthermore, Miss Berry, it was your idea for me and my mom to have Thanksgiving at your house. I have to help. Now do you want to make the most of the free time we do have, or would you rather just pout till it's time to go?"

"Furthermore?" Rachel repeated, raising an eyebrow. "I think my speech patterns are finally starting to rub off on you, blondie."

"I can think of a few other things I'd rather have you rub on me," Quinn murmured huskily, twirling a lock of Rachel's hair between her fingers.

"Now who's the gutterbrain?" Rachel smirked, grabbing Quinn's hand and pulling her toward the stairs.