"Well, you don't look any worse for wear," Quinn joked, sitting on the end of Sam's bed and smiling over at him.

That was mostly a lie, because Sam's lip was split and puffy, and his left eye several sickening shades of black, blue, and green. But he was sat up in bed with as much of an amused grin as he could muster, and Quinn was so grateful to see her friend back home and safe that she could cry. She'd seen Rachel off to her audition earlier, and then had decided that she had to pay a visit to Sam, just to make sure once again for herself that he really was okay. She was tempted to laugh at the flannel pajamas he wore – did they have feet? – but she resisted.

"Plus I hear guys dig scars," she said, wiggling a little on the bed to get comfortable.

"Yeah, well, not this guy," Puck said, coming into the bedroom and glancing at Quinn, then placing a tray on Sam's lap. Soup, and a cold drink, and Quinn quirked an eyebrow in surprise. "Scars from cutting your hand working on a car, maybe. Some jackass using you as a punching bag, not really sexy."

Quinn couldn't help the rush of happiness as Puck leaned down and awkwardly adjusted Sam's pillows behind his back, then leaned down and brushed the softest of kisses on the uninjured corner of Sam's mouth.

"If you need anything else I'll be in the living room, babe."

"I don't get a bell, Sir?" Sam teased, and Puck grinned.

"Maybe around your neck later, smartass." He looked at Quinn. "Ten minutes and that's it."

She stared at him.

Puck shrugged. "Can't blame me for trying," he said with a smirk. "I'm out of practice taking care of him, gotta make up for it."

His master gone from the bedroom, Sam looked at Quinn.

"So."

"So."

"Where's Rachel?"

"At her audition," Quinn said, her chest puffing with pride in spite of herself. She'd been so nervous this morning, it'd taken a cup of coffee and quite a lot of snuggles for Rachel to even get to the point where she could get dressed. And even then, she'd asked Quinn to walk her to the station. Quinn was hard-pressed to deny her girl anything, and sent her on her way with one last kiss good luck.

"Not that she needs it," Quinn said to Sam. "She's born for the stage. I just wish her mother hadn't held her back for so long. Who knows where Rachel would be now?"

Maybe she would already have a Tony, Quinn thought. She and Rachel would be attending awards shows, Quinn would be tearing up in the audience when Rachel thanked her as "the love of her life." Or maybe—

"Maybe not with you," Sam pointed out, and Quinn sat back, a little stunned.

Sam shrugged. "Things worked out, didn't they?" He asked, and Quinn had to agree with him with a nod. "Rachel's with you now, and she's gone out on her audition, so… better late than never, I guess."

Quinn smiled a little. "We both know all about better late than never, don't we?" she asked softly.

Sam nodded, wincing a little as he ate his soup as carefully as he could. "Not that I like this," he said, gesturing towards his face and then the bed, "I wish we could've gotten together some easier way." He glanced at Quinn.

"But now we're together."

"Yeah?" Quinn said, her smile broadening.

"We talked at the hospital, after you left," Sam explained.

As a matter of fact they'd talked so much that they'd nearly missed Sam being discharged from the emergency room, with instructions to come back immediately if he started showing signs of a worse concussion.

"So of course Sir's barely taking his eyes off of me."

"Of course."

Even with the bruised face, Quinn could tell that he was blushing.

Puck had thought Sam wouldn't want him, Sam told Quinn, shaking his head. Like it should matter to Sam that Puck had had brushes with the law, had ended up in juvie for a while. They'd stayed up all night just… talking.

"About everything," Sam said. "Puck's dad, and my family, how we had to live in the hotel for a while. He's still not happy about my job, but I told him I'm not quitting. At least not until I find something else." Sam looked down at the tray still on his lap, then back up at Quinn.

"I might go to school."

"Really?" Quinn practically squealed, and Sam laughed, then grimaced again.

"Don't make him laugh, it hurts him!"

"Don't eavesdrop!" Sam called into the living room.

"I walked past the door on the way to the bathroom!"

"Yeah, well, the bathroom's on the other side of the apartment, Sir."

"… oops?"

Sam rolled his eyes and grinned at Quinn. "I think he'll be good for me."

"Anybody who's got you wanting to go to school has my approval, even if neither one of you need it."

"Not NYU though," Sam warned Quinn, "Don't get your hopes up. But I might look into some community colleges and see what's out there."

"What do you think you might like to take? I can get you some brochures, or we can look online, maybe visit some campuses…"

"Whoa," Sam said, holding his hands up. "Let me get over this first."

He gestured towards his face and Quinn grinned sheepishly. "Sorry about that, I'm just excited."

"And you've been hanging around Rachel too long," Sam said, nudging her. But he was teasing, and Quinn laughed.

"Maybe you're right." She was quiet for a minute, wondering how her girl's audition was going, and her smile broadened before she glanced back at Sam, who was watching her in amusement.

"But when you're ready to think about going back, let me know if you want help." She sat up straight and smirked. "I've got connections in the art world now."

"Right, right, sure. A girl gets one showcase and she thinks she's the next Picasso."

"Monet, Sam. Monet."

"Whatever."

They sat together for another hour or so, before Puck finally did put his foot down and tell Quinn Sam needed to rest. She would've protested, but her friend's eyes were drooping and it was kind of sweet the way, just before she left, she saw Puck tucking the covers around Sam and adjusting his pillows once again.

It wouldn't be an easy road for them, Quinn knew. It hadn't been that easy for her and Rachel, though if Quinn had to admit it she'd say that it had gone a lot easier than she had expected. True, the bond wasn't back, and that was putting a little bit of a strain on Quinn, because knowing how a person thought or felt was a lot easier if you were actually connected to them. Now she felt like she was just guessing about how Rachel might feel about things, and that only made Quinn worry that one day, she might guess wrong. Her relationship with Rachel might be getting stronger every day, the threads might be getting tighter, but it was still a frayed ribbon.

She had dinner finished and on the table when Rachel finally breezed in the door, bringing the wind of an early spring evening with her, and Quinn smiled. She lit the last candle and stood back only slightly admire her handiwork before crossing the floor to wait for a hug, as Rachel hung her coat up in the closet.

"There's my Broadway princess," Quinn said, kissing Rachel's cheek and pulling her into her arms. "I missed you."

"I m-missed you too," Rachel said with a smile that curled one corner of her lips. "What have you been doing since I left?"

"You can't tell?" Quinn said with a grin, gesturing towards the table, then tugged Rachel to it and pulled her chair out.

"This is amazing," Rachel said softly, her eyes wide as she took in the spread. She glanced up at Quinn, her eyes dark – and a little distant, Quinn thought, but she chalked that up to Rachel being tired.

"You didn't have to…"

Quinn scoffed. "Of course I did," she said, pouring them both glasses of wine from the bottle that rested chilling in its bucket. She sat down next to Rachel, gripping her hand.

"I'm so proud of you," she said, kissing her cheek. "And I want to hear everything. Everything."

"Oh, t-there's not much to tell, really."

"Right, sure," Quinn felt like her grin was going to split her face; she was a giddy child at Christmas waiting for Santa Claus. "How'd you do?"

"All right, I guess." Rachel set about cutting up the chicken on her plate, shrugging and not looking at Quinn.

"Only all right?" Quinn offered Rachel some dressing for her salad, and furrowed her brow a little. "I'm sure your very first audition went much more than all right, they'd be crazy not to love you."

Rachel laughed a little. "Thank you, Miss. I don't know, I really do think it went okay."

"Well, tell me about it then!" Quinn said, a little exasperated but still smiling. "What was the theater like, what song did you sing, who were the judges, what did they say? I want to know everything,princess."

She looked so beautiful, Quinn thought, whether it was because she was so proud of Rachel or because she was just… Rachel. But she was sat at her dinner table, her cheeks flushed pink and her eyes downcast to her food as she ate, quietly for a long moment, and Quinn couldn't believe her luck. If you had asked her just a few months ago, she never would have dreamed that her girl would be sitting having dinner with her, in an argyle sweater and a ridiculously short skirt.

"The t-theater was nice," Rachel said finally. She glanced over at Quinn and gave a small smile. "I was really n-nervous, but the two men – the producer and a casting guy, I think? – they were very nice. Put me right at ease."

"Good," Quinn said firmly, finishing up her dinner and sitting back against her chair, watching Rachel. It was obvious Rachel had been nervous, the way she was trembling just a little bit, the absent-minded way her hand toyed with the napkin, the little shake in her voice.

"If they'd been mean to you I'd have gone and beat them up."

Rachel rolled her eyes a little. "No doubt you would have," she teased, and Quinn waggled her eyebrows just the tiniest bit.

"So what song did you sing?"

"Um… I sang Go Your Own Way, by Fleetwood Mac."

"Oh, good song," Quinn said, nodding in approval. "Of course anything you sing is good, what did they say? When do you start the show?"

"You have a lot of faith in me," Rachel said, her voice now taking on a tone that Quinn hadn't heard in a few days – uncertain, almost guilty. It was the tone she had had when Quinn had first found her… and she didn't like it.

"I don't think I'll be getting the show. They s-said 'we'll call you,' which I think is Broadway code for 'Sorry, but no.'"

"They'd be stupid not to give you a callback," Quinn grumbled, then looked at Rachel. "Callback, right? That's what it is?"

"That's what it is," Rachel said, and Quinn felt her heart flutter, like it always did, when Rachel leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek. They'd talked about acting and Broadway a little bit, and Quinn was desperate to show Rachel that she'd listened to her.

She'd been hanging on to Rachel's every word since she was seven.

"So how did you actually audition?"

"Oh, w-well, at first I thought it was just going to be in a little room, you know, but I was actually out on the stage, and t-the casting lady and the director sat out in the audience."

Quinn furrowed her brow a little, a weird feeling of confusion welling up in her, but she shook it off. "And so then you sang absolutely awesomely because that's what you always do."

"Absolutely awesomely, huh?" Rachel said, her hand still toying with the napkin on the table. "I think… I t–think I did all right."

"I know you did," Quinn declared, getting up to gather the dinner dishes and put them in the sink. "We have chocolate cake for dessert," she added, "In honor of my favorite little songbird." She came back to the dining room and dropped a kiss to Rachel's head.

"So when do you think you'll hear anything back from them? Did they say anything else?"

Rachel shook her head. "No, all the casting agent said was 'we'll call you.' Well, he did say that I did a good job so…"

There it was again, that confused feeling, and this time, Quinn knew why.

"Hey, Rach?" she said slowly. "Was the casting agent a woman or a man?"

Rachel tilted her head. "Man, w-why?"

Quinn busied herself cutting the cake, not looking at Rachel as her mind began to slowly go places that she really… was wishing it wouldn't.

"Because first you said the casting agent was a man. Then you said it was a woman. Then, just now, you said it was a man."

"O-oh," Rachel laughed. "I got mixed up, I suppose. A man, definitely a man."

"Or you're lying to me," Quinn pointed out, her gaze finally moving to Rachel's face, hazel eyes meeting brown ones measure for measure.

Rachel had been nervous, anxious ever since she'd gotten home. She'd barely looked at Quinn the entire time they were eating dinner. And she was stuttering.

"Lying to you? W-what, no!"

Quinn pursed her lips and turned her chair so that she was fully facing Rachel. "Rachel. Are you lying to me about the audition?"

The answer came, quiet and lost, and Quinn's heart sank.

"Yes… Miss."

Quinn visibly shuddered, stunned, and her mouth dropped open a little as she stared at Rachel, only one word coming out in her shock.

"Why?"

Rachel glanced off to the side. "I just didn't go."

"You just… didn't go," Quinn echoed, scarcely able to believe it. She couldn't imagine that Rachel had been so excited to go, and then just… didn't. What had went wrong?

"Where did you go?"

"I… s-sat in the park."

Quinn stood up then, beginning to pace across the floor of her apartment, arms held over her chest. "You just sat in the park."

"Yes."

"You didn't go to the audition, after telling me that you would, and so you lied to me. You made up a story about going to the audition when you just went and sat in the park."

"Y-yes."

"You're still lying to me," Quinn said. "Don't you know that I can tell you're lying, because you stutter? Rachel, what happened?"

"Nothing!" The look on Rachel's face was frantic, and it would've been heartbreaking if Quinn wasn't lost inside herself, wondering just why Rachel would have chosen to lie to her instead of telling her the truth.

"I-I was just nervous, and I thought I couldn't do it, and I was going to, I really was, but then I-I just couldn't, and so I went to the p-park and just sat there, and I—"

"Did I do something wrong?" Quinn asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Did I push you too hard, did I demand too much of you? Because if you didn't want to go, I would've been okay with that, you don't have to do anything until you're read—"

"It wasn't you," Rachel said, sounding defeated. She avoided Quinn's eyes, still picking at the napkin she held in her hands.

"I j-just didn't want to go."

"Rachel, tell me the truth!" Quinn said, almost throwing up her hands in frustration. Nothing she'd ever read, nothing in her classes had ever prepared her for this, and she had no idea of what to do. "I don't care if you didn't want to go, if you were scared, that's okay, just don't lie to me!"

"It was my mother!"

Quinn stared, actually taking a step backward at Rachel's raised tone, the words exploding from her as if she'd kept them inside for far too long. And maybe she had. She was looking at Quinn now, pleading, scared, and this time, Quinn's heart did break.

"Your mother…?"

"I was going to go," Rachel said pleadingly. "You have to believe me, I was going to go. I was on the train, I had my music, I was preparing myself and telling myself, 'Quinn thinks I can do this, I know that my talent will be unrivaled if I just try, I can do this.''"

"But then why?" Quinn asked, sinking onto her couch. Her heart lurched when Rachel moved from the dining table to kneel in front of her, her hands placed on Quinn's knees. Quinn couldn't resist reaching out and cupping Rachel's cheek, her thumb running over the soft skin.

"She called just before I got to the theater," Rachel said, moving her hand up to thread her fingers through Quinn's own. Quinn held fast, feeling the anger start to rise within her before Rachel had even finished speaking.

"I wasn't going to answer – I didn't, the first time. Or the second. Then the third time… she's my mother."

"I know," Quinn hastened to reassure her. "I understand. What happened?"

"She said she was sick," Rachel practically spat out. "She said that she was sick, and that she was scared, because she might have to go to the hospital, and could I please just come to check on her, she'd feel so much better if I did…"

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Quinn said through clenched teeth.

Rachel shifted on her knees and without hesitating, Quinn pulled a pillow off the couch and showed it to her. Rachel lifted long enough to settle back down onto it, and Quinn drew back a little in surprise when the smaller girl hurled herself forward and wrapped her arms around Quinn's waist.

"She wasn't even sick," Rachel said, sounding mournful, and Quinn sighed inwardly. "She wasn't even sick, and I'm so stupid."

"No." Quinn pushed Rachel back, tilting Rachel's chin with her fingers so that she was forced to look at her. "You are not stupid. She's your mother and you thought she was sick, I would've done the same thing."

Rachel nodded, hesitating, then continued. "She knew I was auditioning today," she said softly. "She just didn't want me to go. So she lied to me and I fell for it. I got there and she was fine, she was talking about how she just wanted to spend time with me and how she missed me and I-I got very angry. I said some not very nice things."

"Like what?"

She was still angry, she was still disappointed, but Quinn was also wrapped up in Rachel wrapped around her, kneeling for her; it was all so much that her head was spinning. Irritation and confusion about being lied to, anger at Rachel's mother, elation that Rachel was once again on her knees for her…

"I told her that if she couldn't get used to the idea that I w-wanted to be with you and that I want to finally live for me, and try for Broadway that… that I didn't want to see her again."

"Rach…" Quinn wrapped her arms around Rachel; the girl clung tighter.

"She cried, told me I was ungrateful, I just… left." Rachel looked up at Quinn, the beginnings of tears sparking in her brown eyes. "I really did go to the park."

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Quinn asked, finally letting herself sound as disappointed as she felt.

Rachel shook her head. "Because of the way you're looking at me right now. I failed you."

"No," Quinn said again, sharply. "You did not fail me. This is not a failure, this is just… you making some really bad decisions, and it… it…" Quinn faltered, not knowing where to go from there. She rubbed her palm over her face.

"I need to think."

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No, Rachel, that's the last thing I would ever want."

"Do you want to punish me?"

Quinn's mouth dropped open a little, and she stared at Rachel. But she already knew the answer. It was in her nature, had always been. "Yes," she said slowly. "Yes, I do."

There was a pause. Then, quiet, unsteady, "Okay."

"Rachel…"

"I lied to you," Rachel interrupted her, and her eyes were clear when she looked up at Quinn. "I lied to you, and you're… you're my Miss."

Quinn took a deep breath. She couldn't hardly believe it, Rachel was… giving Quinn permission to punish her. She was giving Quinn control, and Quinn… wasn't sure she would know what to do with it. It had always been in her nature, but acting on it…

"I-I want you to go stand in the corner," she said, clearing her throat when her voice shook a little. "Go stand in the corner, I need time to think. Now, Rachel."

"Yes, Miss."

She even pressed her nose to the wall, and Quinn couldn't help but smile. Was there anything more beautiful than Rachel Berry submitting to her, she thought? Probably not.

She should call Jamie, Quinn said to herself, and then actually shook her head. No, Rachel was trusting her, trusting her, and calling Jamie would just prove that Quinn had no clue what she was doing. Even if she felt like she had no clue what she was doing. What could she do? She wasn't angry at Rachel – that was reserved for Shelby Berry. Hurt, confused, disappointed, all of the above, but not angry. And Quinn knew the last thing a mistress should do is lash out in anger.

She sat on the couch for ten minutes, running over as many scenarios as she possibly could, before finally going to her bedside table and pulling out a small white tube. Coming back to the couch, she set it on the table before sitting down and taking a deep breath.

"Rachel, come here."

She moved to kneel down in front of Quinn but Quinn stopped her, her hands held securely around Rachel's waist.

"I'm going to spank you."

"O-oh," Rachel said, sounding a bit startled. "Okay."

Rachel's reaction would have made her giggle, but Quinn knew that now was the time for "serious face," and so she occupied herself by stroking her thumbs over the fabric of Rachel's sweater, looking up into her eyes.

"You lied to me."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"Rachel, we can't do this if you lie to me," Quinn said honestly, feeling the girl waver in her hands, and Quinn held tighter. "I'm not disappointed because you didn't go to the audition, I don't care about the audition. I just want you to be happy. And I'm not angry or disappointed because you went to see your mother; I understand that completely and I'm angry at her for taking advantage of you."

"I know, Miss."

Quinn smiled slightly and squeezed Rachel's waist. "But the one thing we promised is that we would never lie to each other, and you broke that promise, Rachel. I can't be a good Miss, and you can't be my good Princess, if we lie to each other."

"I want to be your good princess," Rachel whispered, her face flushed a deep crimson in what Quinn guessed was shame, and she almost called it off right then. But she knew she couldn't.

"Well, maybe this will make you think twice about things," Quinn said firmly. "Maybe this will help you remember that I love you, and that we're in this together, and there's nothing that you can't tell me. I promise you."

Rachel only nodded, and Quinn smiled reassuringly at her, even as her fingers were sliding down Rachel's waist and under her skirt, to hook her thumbs in Rachel's underwear and draw them down around her knees.

"Over my lap, Princess," Quinn said gently, and helped to guide her, until Rachel was settled and Quinn lifted up her skirt, smoothing it over Rachel's back and leaving the girl bare in front of her.

It was a really nice ass. Stop it, Quinn scolded herself, that was not the point! Still, she couldn't help but rest her hand there, feeling the warmth of Rachel's tan skin, marveling once again at how beautiful her girl was. It only served to make those other feelings stir within Quinn again, but she pushed them down as she lightly rubbed Rachel's bottom, preparing both of them.

"I think thirty will be enough," Quinn pronounced, taking yet another breath and setting her jaw. "Fifteen for each side."

"Y-yes, Miss. Do… do I count, I don't know what I'm supposed to do…"

Quinn chuckled, and moved her hand to Rachel's back, holding her briefly. "You don't need to count, Princess," she said. "Just… think about things, all right? All I want you to do is just think about how it feels if we lie to each other. Okay?"

She felt Rachel shiver, but the younger girl answered her with no hesitation. "Yes, Miss."

"Okay."

Quinn closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them, lifting her hand and hesitating only slightly before bringing it down in a firm smack against Rachel's bottom.

She doubted it was as sharp as it could've been, even if the sound did echo like a shot in the room; she'd never done this before and Quinn wasn't sure of her own strength. Better to be cautious than overzealous, but still, Rachel's reaction was instantaneous.

She burst into tears, and Quinn had to struggle, once again, not to call it off. Instead, she raised her hand again.

Rachel sobbed while Quinn spanked her steadily, an overreaction, really, because it wasn't that hard, but as Quinn silently counted each stroke, varying its location and watching as Rachel's skin began to flush a light shade of pink, she figured it had less to do with the physical sensation and a lot more to do with the emotional.

She reached thirty with relief and stopped, hand moving immediately to the tube on the coffee table and uncapping it. Rachel gasped at the touch of the cold ointment against her bottom, and Quinn smoothed it in quickly to warm it. She hadn't done near enough to bruise Rachel, thank goodness, but at least the ointment would help with the sting.

"It's over," Quinn said softly, pulling Rachel's panties up as tenderly as she could and rubbing her back again. "It's all over, my princess."

She reached down and pulled Rachel up, settling her into her lap. Rachel clung to her like a life raft, her arms wrapped around Quinn's neck.

"I'm s-sorry," Rachel cried, and Quinn shushed her, brushing kisses against the tears that fell onto her cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Miss, I'll be good, I promise."

"Hey, hey." Quinn kissed Rachel's lips. "Look at me." Rachel did so, and Quinn smiled.

Was there anyone in the course of history who loved someone as much as Quinn Fabray loved Rachel Berry?

She doubted it.

"You are a good girl," Quinn affirmed, and tucked Rachel's head back into her shoulder. "You were so good, baby, I'm so proud of you."

"R-really?" Rachel sniffed. "I won't do it again, I promise."

"Really. And I hope not." She wasn't angry, she wasn't even disappointed anymore. Quinn still wanted to go punch Shelby, but that wasn't her fight, she knew. But this, this was hers and Rachel's. This was Rachel, quiet and limp in her arms, gone somewhere in her mind that Quinn wasn't quite sure she could reach.

And this was Quinn, holding tight, desperate to not let Rachel go too far away, while trying to make sense of everything that had happened. They weren't just Rachel and Quinn anymore, they weren't even Miss and Princess anymore, this was… she didn't know what this was. But the balance had shifted, they had changed, and now it was Rachel and Quinn, still separate but a bond, a different kind of bond, something that no seven year old could dream of, was there.

And it left Quinn breathless.

She was brought back to reality by Rachel's voice, small and uncertain and lost, and the tears sprang to Quinn's eyes at the question.

"Quinn, do… do you still love me, Miss? I'm so sorry."

"Rach…" She trailed off, hugging her tightly. "It's all over, it's done, we can move on now. I'm not angry, and of course I still love you. I love you so much."

"Good." Rachel snuggled closer, cuddling under Quinn's chin and sighing, if not happily, at least contentedly.

Quinn kissed her cheek, resting back against the couch with Rachel in her arms, and found herself softly singing, something that her grandmother had taught her long ago.

"I just want to be beside you everywhere. As long as we're together honey I don't care," she sang, her lips tucked close to Rachel's ear. "Cause you've started something, can't you see? That ever since we've met you've had a hold on me."

Quinn sang on, for once knowing what it may have been like for Rachel that night, when Quinn had heard her in the diner. Pouring her heart and all of her memories into a song. "No matter what you do, I only want to be with you. No matter what you do, I only want to be with you…"

She trailed off and smiled into the kiss Rachel gave her.

"S'good song," Rachel mumbled, kissing her again. "I love your voice."

"Really?" Quinn's eyes lit up.

"Really. Miss?"

"Yes, princess?"

"… Can I have some cake now?"