Disclaimer: I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride

Pairing: I think we can remove the 'eventual' and just say: Quinn/Rachel
Spoilers: Season 2, A/U
Rated: Back to T now I think, maybe M for language?

A/N If you skipped any chapters, welcome back to the land of plot. : ) and more 'T' rated at that...

A/N: Thank you thank your lovely reviews an comments. Thank you, thank you! I hope they don't go away because I've gotten back to plot, lol. I'm off on about 5 day hiatus as I will be *gasp* (and that was not the fun kind of *gasp*…) working onsite. I plan to catch up on reading other peoples fics though! Feel free to drop me a line or question or suggestions, as I have a week of driving and working and pondering.

################################

Other than a snort here and a twitch there, Quinn slept like the proverbial rock.

That is until eight a.m. At that time, the clock two feet from her right ear sputtered and then burst into life. Well it quietly spoke into life in an incredibly calm, soothing and slightly tinny voice.

"You're listening to WGLE-FM. 90.7. This is WEEKEND EDITION from NPR News. I'm Liane Hansen. President Obama is back in Washington today after what he called a successful summit of NATO leaders in Portugal…"

She blinked once. Twice. Then again. The weight on her chest made her look down. She was naked, and there was a tousled head of hair chestnut hair. There was a warm cheek pressed to her breast. There was moist breath exhaling regularly onto it.

Then it all came flooding back. She was in Rachel Berry's sturdy IKEA bed. There was NPR (of course) on the radio alarm. They never got to hear that 'talk' portion of Public Broadcasting. Her dad had always turned it after the classical music programming was finished.

By all means, keep focusing on the important things here. Like the particular radio programming preferences of the person in whose bed you've just woken. Really. Keep it up.

Oh dear God. The heat rose from her stomach and radiated outwards to all her extremities at warp speed. Her face felt like Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer's looked. Faster and faster, her chest rose shallowly, as she tamped down at the panic she was feeling.

Deep breaths Quinn. I don't think this what they meant by gay panic.

She inhaled as deeply and as unobtrusively as she could, as it was clear that Rachel was still safely and happily in dreamland.

Unlike herself.

She inhaled the scent of the vanilla pear of the singer's shampoo, and immediately images started flooding her brain. Her mouth quirked at the corners, smiling despite herself, but she flushed with heat even more. And she didn't even think that was possible. She put her free hand that wasn't wrapped around the sleeping form on her chest to her mouth and touched her fingers to her lips lightly. Then she smiled into them, hardly able to contain a stupid, silly grin. They carried her scent still. She smiled again. Then she ignored the feeling that that was odd thought.

The radio murmured on.

"…President Karzai has repeatedly clashed in public with NATO over strategy and tactics. Recently, he said night raids by foreign forces fueled the insurgency…"

Someone other than the announcer picked up the story. She couldn't focus on it though. She was too busy smiling secretly to herself. And then she realized and her cheeks hurt from smiling. Actually, as she took stock, quite a bit of her hurt, in a pleasant post workout kind of way.

And then the shallow breaths again as her brain was assaulted with images and memories and sounds.

She was feeling equal parts panic to equal parts exhilaration. Added to that was a healthy dose of something that rode between embarrassment and pride and mortification.

You slept with Rachel Berry. You…slept with Rachel Berry. You slept with…Rachel Berry.

No matter how she phrased it to herself, it wasn't quite getting through.

Please. I thought we didn't lie to ourselves so much anymore. You didn't 'sleep' with Rachel Berry.
I'll rephrase your Honor. Fine. I had sex with Rachel Berry.

The rejoinder was immediate.

You might as well say you got to know Rachel Berry in a Biblical sense. Prude.

She mocked herself some more, digging at bit more in the dirt.

Let's get real here. You fucked her brains out. Or well, she fucked your brains out.

It was a tie, she reminded herself snappishly. At this point, she almost gave in to the urge to giggle maniacally. Except she didn't want to disturb the warm softly snuffling form that was resting on her. God, but she was tired. But her mind kept picking at her, and picking.

You fucked like lesbian bunnies.

That just sounded wrong and she protested.

We did NOT fuck like lesbian bunnies. We...we made…crap. I don't know what we did, but we did not fuck like lesbian bunnies.
If you say so, Q.

She wondered, and not for not the first time, why her subconscious voice always sounded like Santana in her head. It made it that much mores galling when she had to admit the voice was right.

Brittany would have said you and Rachel Berry were going at it like lesbian ducks. Does that really sound any better?
Point taken.

She brought her hand slowly to her face to scratch an itch on her nose that was suddenly driving her nuts. She sighed. Specific and as yet undetermined terminology aside, she knew what had happened. What was she going to do about it? Oh Jesus. Sam. She didn't ever pretend that she was in love Sam or anything, but he was a good guy. And she had cheated on him. With Rachel Berry.

And she was so going to want to do it again.

And it was fucking phenomenal. Lesbian bunnies and all, wasn't it?
Yes. Fine, yes. We made sweet lesbian bunny love til the wee hours, and there were invisible fucking lesbian Unicorns bowing down and I don't know, blessing our union. Are you happy? Will you shut the fuck up now?

Nothing came back. So she took a deep breath and listened to her own fast heavy breathing, trying to calm her runaway heart, and synchronize her breathing with the steady, even rise and fall of Rachel's breath. After a minute she was much calmer, and she allowed herself an indulgence, now that her brain shut up for two seconds. She bent her head and kissed the top of sweet smelling head, safe in the knowledge the girl was still asleep. Then she pinched the bridge of her nose and took a moment to thank God she wasn't hungover and pregnant. That was definitely on the plus side.

Rachel stirred just a bit and sighed breathily and snuggled in. Quinn's mouth quirked, smiling absently.

She relaxed into the warmth of the embrace again and looked up at the ceiling, full of feeling. She felt half-crazy at the moment. And she liked it.

Across the room a G chord flared to life from somewhere indeterminate in the corner, and then a base kicked in. Rachel jerked up with an "mmnmf", eyes wide. It was so quick that Quinn had to wrench her head away to avoid a likely split lip as the dark head thrashed into wakefulness. Instead she slammed her head against the bed frame.

"Shit." She rubbed her head and glared at Rachel and took back all the nice things she thought about the headboard not long ago. And a few she'd thought about the brunette.

Right right, turn off the lights,
We're gonna lose our minds tonight,
What's the dealio?
I love when it's all too much,
5 a.m. turn the radio up
Where's the rock and roll?

The blur of form that was Rachel Barbra Berry slid out of the bed, mumbling incoherently in explanation something about "elliptical mix."

As the diminutive body flopped and lurched out of bed. Quinn stopped her glaring for a moment and started staring. She'd slowly apprised her own nakedness upon waking a few moments ago, but she'd forbidden her mind to wander to the fact that Rachel was also naked. It was bad enough she had visions of last night's enticing sugar plums dancing in her head. She didn't need to see it paraded before her again. It made her feel something very much less than gallant. However, she was not opposed to sneaking a look if it went streaking out in front of her for her perusal.

And now she saw a golden back and thighs, and those legs. Quinn squinted her eyes and nodded in appreciation.

Puck would be proud.

Halfway to the workout machine in question Rachel apparently realized she was completely and utterly naked.

Quinn watched amused as the gorgeous legs skidded to a halt short of their destination and start frantically back towards the bed. As Quinn had only had eyes for the legs, she didn't see the look of horror on her the singer's face. There was a fluff of sheets as she dove beneath them and covered herself with a small squeaking noise.

Let's see, she tallied.

Spending the day with Rachel Berry. Cost? One vegetarian pizza, estimated at $10.99 plus tip.
Breakfast for dinner with Rachel's oddly endearing and odd couple gay dads punctuated by a rendition of Midnight Train to Georgia and followed by poker? Estimated cost negative $10.99 at the very least.
Making lo—fucking Rachel Berry's brains out while lesbian unicorns watch? Estimated cost unclear.
Watching Rachel Berry wake from a dead sleep in your arms to scampering, bare ass naked across the room, only just realize it and skid to a stop a la Scooby-Doo? Priceless.

The music thumped on. It wasn't terribly loud, like it was blasting. But it was loud enough that you couldn't really just go back to sleep. She wondered absently how or what the ipod was hooked up to. Because that was indeed what it was. It was just Rachel's ipod docked near the elliptical obviously set as a secondary alarm defense and a call to elliptical arms so to speak. She quirked a smile that Rachel couldn't see, (as she was still hiding underneath the covers) imagining the diva swishing away for her workout to…whatever this was.

She wasn't familiar with the song. It was catchy, the voice sounded familiar but she couldn't place it. At least not at eight a.m. on a Sunday after about four hours of sleep post fucking like lesbian bunnies escapade. She snorted. She couldn't help it. She was losing it. She tapped her foot and listened for moment.

Party Crasher,
Penny Snatcher,
Call me up if you want gangsta
Don't be fancy, just get dancey
Why so serious?

So raise your glass if you are wrong,
In all the right ways,
All my underdogs,

We will never be never be anything but loud
And nitty gritty
Dirty little freaks
Won't you come on and come on and raise your glass,
Just come on and come on and raise your glass

Shaking her head and laughing softly, she leaned closer to the lump of bed that contained Rachel. There was just nothing like someone else losing his or her shit to make Quinn feel more stable.

"I know you're in there Rach. Why don't you come out and tell me why you're listening to a song that talks about a 'panty snatcher.'"

There was an indignant huff. "It's P!nk! She has a new single out."

There was some more movement and sheets rippled. Finally a mass of lively brown hair emerged with a face, still framed by sheets, cheeks, flaming red. "And I'll have you know she is saying 'penny snatcher' not 'panty snatcher'."

Against her will, Quinn was charmed. She covered her grin with her hand, her arms locked around her bent knees. She tapped her foot some more to the beat.

"If you say so," she lilted. "But I have to say I liked my version better." Quinn pulled a bit her lips and grinned. Then she ran her tongue and her finger tips over her lips. She was in serious need of some lip balm. Rachel's eyes watched hers, and then the head disappeared in a flurry of sheets again.

The head appeared again instantly, frowning a bit and looking self-righteous. "I happen to think the lyrics are very apropos and I identify with them. If you listen, it's about outsiders, and not caring what everyone else thinks. It's quite inspiring and uplifting in my opinion."

Quinn nodded along with the beat, smiling a little evilly now. "Wow. Dirty little freaks, huh?"

"Except for that part. I believe I have an excellent hygiene routine."

The blonde chuckled at that. "Well I'll confirm that to anyone that asks I assure you. " She looked her in the eye, arching her eyebrow in her patented way . "But...I don't know about you Rachel, but personally I feel a bit like a 'dirty little freak' this morning." She cracked the joke, actually surprised at her own levity.

Rachel blanched, but couldn't help herself and grinned a little proudly.

Quinn laughed. "Not too early for early for gallows humor after all? That's a good sign I guess. So…isn't P!nk vegan?"

Silence. "Yes she is. Or, maybe. She's at least vegetarian..."

She listened to the song to its end, giving Rachel some time. When the song switched and played two Gaga songs, and still the diva had not emerged, she'd had had enough.

"Rachel? Are you going to come out? You can't stay in there all day."

"I'm processing."

"I see. Ah. Yes, well naturally I'm completely fine with everything, so you should just hurry up and work it all out. I'll be downstairs having bacon."

The head of soft messy curls moved again and it squeaked. "You've got it to be kidding me. All figured out? You?"

Quinn let her knees drop and pivoted around til onto her stomach and faced the disembodied Rachel head.

"Of course I'm kidding you, you twit."

The brown eyes looked hurt. They were different in the morning light, and a little puffy with lack of sleep. But still lovely and warm. She hadn't really studied them close in daylight before.

Quinn sighed. "Listen you silly, annoyingly, inexplicably attractive munchkin. Where is this famed Sixth Sense of yours? Because for a smart girl, you can be pretty slow sometimes."

When she got no response she started to lose patience. Patience was never her strong suit anyway. She ran her hands through her hair and swatted the bed in frustration. "Jesus. Rachel. Did it not occur to you that I might be having a wee bit of a freak out myself here? You know? Maybe I'd at least like some company for my crazy. We were both there, were we not?"

"Well, yes. "

"Well then. Why don't you come out here and join me? Unless you'd like me to stick to tried and true Quinn Fabray format here, and make all the decisions for everyone?"

There was a dramatic sigh from the lump. "You don't regret it now? This morning, do you?"

Quinn sighed back. "Do you think I should regret it? Do you want me to? Do you? Regret it that is?"

"No. No! I just…I don't know what to think. I know I don't want there to be any regrets. So no. But, I mean Finn…" She trailed off. "I regret that…aspect. I mean, what about Sam…?"

Quinn's face clouded briefly before she covered it. Her chest felt unexpectedly tight at just the mention of Finn. She growled a little, letting her annoyance spill out just a little. She tried to recover, picking at the bedspread. "I don't know. It's not like Sam is the love of my life or something."

It came out a little bitter. She growled again, louder. "Rachel. This is ridiculous. Dammit, don't make me come in there. I'll rip the sheets off you, so help me I will. I'm not having this conversation if you don't come out here."

There was movement again and Quinn felt the sheets she was using to cover herself to her breast bone being pulled. She gripped tighter.

"Uh uh. You're not taking my covers away" she warned. The pulling stopped.

Quinn grunted. "Fine. Just. Wait. Hang on. I'll get our clothes. Not that I don't like sitting around naked with you, partaking in this bizarre Socratic dialogue, because apparently I do. But it probably isn't a great idea."

Rachel couldn't help her smile at the admission, and Quinn saw it and for some reason she couldn't explain it made her temper flare.

"What? What?" The Cheerio whispered sharply, frustrated. "Seriously? Did you think I would suddenly find you and your body repulsive this morning? If it only it were so," she said a bit harsh. She pressed her lips in a firm line. "I'd love to wave a magic wand and not have these…feelings. But well." She sagged and half smiled sadly at the brown eyes. "I must have left my magic wand in my other pair of sweatpants." She shrugged. "Such is life."

"Those aren't your sweatpants," Rachel interjected cheekily.

"Oh shut it. I try to be somewhat chivalrous and you're just impossible. Just…hang on." She grunted in frustration, but more annoyance than she actually felt. She twisted and reached over the side, rooting around for where she thought Rachel's discarded clothes might have landed.

As she did that, the sheet dropped from the blonde, and Rachel ran her eyes over the flawless back. Except it wasn't flawless. As Quinn hung over the side of the bed she caught a glimpse four very angry looking streaks of red down one shoulder blade. She gulped, and then flushed madly seeing that, part embarrassment, part thrill.

"Ah. There. Finally." Quinn grunted. Rachel eyes were glued to the view of her long form as the torso twisted back up and around, affording her another glimpse of the porcelain skin and breasts.

Quinn caught her looking. Rachel flushed even more and almost grimaced. Quinn looked a little bit smug.

"See something you like?" She raised her eyebrow a little haughtily as she sat up, not pulling up the sheet this time. She was used to being naked around girls, showering in front of them. She watched as the disembodied head framed in sheets lowered and knocked itself on the soft mattress repeatedly.

"I'll take that as a yes. Glad to hear it." The Cheerio was amused and admittedly, more gratified with her discomfort. She wanted Rachel to feel just as off balance as she did. The old Quinn would have reveled in the thrill of knowing the effect she had on the other girl and wondered how best to use it. This Quinn just took an odd comfort in it. And a little bit of thrill perhaps, if she was honest.

She just didn't want to be alone in this. She wasn't sure what she wanted, but at least she felt like she was more in control than the hot mess under the sheets.

Taking pity on the girl, she reached out tentatively and tapped on her head. "Rach. Hey. I'm sorry. I'm really kinda whistling in the dark here. Here are your things. I'm going to put some clothes back on. Think you can come out then?"

"Okay. Yes. I'm sorry," came the meek reply.

"No, no. S'okay. I was poking at you. I'm just as confused as you are." She sighed. "Look, I don't know what time your dads get up, but it's probably best we get up and decent, right? And honestly? After last night, which might I remind you, I have been at pains to point out that I do not regret, I could really use a shower. I don't suppose you have some underwear I could borrow? Underwear that maybe you don't want back. I'm pretty sure I'd stretch them out."

There was a sudden movement as the diva finally emerged. Quinn found herself tackled in a flurry of movement and held in a tight hug. Her chest constricted, and not just from the crushing hold the tiny girl had on her.

"Okay then." Quinn sighed into the wild brown hair. "Easy now. Let's just get on with our day. I probably have to stop by Mercedes' later. And I've got tentative plans with…Sam." The hug got even more fierce for a moment. "Let's just…take a break. We don't have to think about any of this. We can even…pretend it didn't happen."

Good luck there Q. You're two seconds from giving her butt a squeeze.

She pushed gently out of the hug. Her jaw was tense and her throat was tight as she found the brown eyes. They looked confused and worried and she didn't even know what else.

"You want to pretend…this…it didn't happen?"

Quinn's face steeled up.

"I want to do what you want to do, Rach. I can't tell you how you feel about Finn. I…" she looked down. "This is probably the writing on the wall for me and Sam. But that is me. And has nothing to do with you specifically. This just tells me that… 'I'm just not that in to him', as they say." She shrugged stoically. "It's not the end of the world for either us. Sam and I weren't some epic romance. Not like…" She stopped. "We…I need to just step back."

"But you just said you didn't want to be alone with the crazy…" she almost wailed.

"I don't. But you know, we're both strong willed women. You figure out what you want, or don't want." She pressed her lips to the furrowed brow breathing in her scent, then pulled way. "And I'll do the same."

After a deep breath and a long look, she spoke again. "Now. If you would be so kind as to get dressed, I'd rather not have the extra torture of seeing you naked right now."

Rachel just watched silently as the girl before her turned matter-of-fact seemingly in a blink of an eye. Quinn's defenses had dropped neatly and apparently effortlessly in to place, and she couldn't see through to her in those hazel eyes anymore. It was discomfiting and a huge sense of loss started eating at her. It was jarring just watching her turn all business again.

Rachel nodded mutely and looked around, still unable to herd the morass of feelings that were warring inside. She didn't want to fill the air with words for the sake of doing it, which is something she usually resorted to. Like with Finn for instance.

She realized she filled her time and silences with Finn with words. Constantly. Because he rarely talked about anything but football or Call of Duty. So she just…talked to fill a void. With Quinn, it was give and take. And she'd just been silent since she woke up. And Quinn had filled the silent side of things. And now, why did she felt like a door had shut.

"Quinn…I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

"Didn't mean to what, Berry?" she snapped. More than she meant to.

Rachel cringed at the use of Berry, and she pressed her lips together, and held her back rigid.

Quinn sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm just tired. Wrecked really. I need to shut up. I've talked more than I ever do, and you've talked less." She shook her head and laughed without humor. "Clearly, our world has tilted on its axis."

Rachel nodded, her voice low and sincere. "Yes, I know my world has."

Hazel eyes pinned Rachel to her spot, and she got one more glimpse of Quinn in there. They filled with something Rachel couldn't read. But it was better than blank.

"I'm not sure if that is good or bad for me. Or you for that matter. I guess we'll see."

She cleared her throat painfully and started looking for her sweatshirt.

They got semi-dressed in silence, each girl lost in her own thoughts, which amounted to trying not to think about the other.

#########################

Rachel busied herself with bringing her clean towels, and gave her a the five cent tour of the shower, assuring her they had a large water tank and that she should take as long a shower as she needed. When she showed Quinn her shampoo selection, the blonde eyed it with interest and allowed a small chink in her armor to show when she smiled at the singer.

"I was wondering what you used. You smell…really good." The half smile she gave Rachel was met with one of her huge grins. As Quinn watched it bloom, she realized how much she missed it and her stomach tightened. She found herself relenting a bit more and she smiled back with a wink and followed her back to the bedroom to pick out a clean shirt to borrow along with the underwear.

The last thing Quinn said to her before heading to the bathroom to shower was mundane, but rather odd in its specificity. "And Rachel?"

Rachel hadn't realized how much she missed hearing her say it. Saying her name.

"Yes Quinn?"

"About the underwear? Can you please make sure there are no bunnies, ducks or unicorns on them? Yeah, that would be great."

Rachel smiled shyly at her and risked a rejoinder, lame as it was.

"You're rather weird, Quinn."

"Yep, I'm a freak, baby, remember?"

Quinn let her mask slip just a bit more for a moment as she winked at her. And she was gone.

Rachel stood a moment allowing herself to feel the little uptick of her heart's tempo. And perhaps hope.

###################

A/N Read and Review if it moves you. Comments and critiques always make me smile. Or think. Or both...but I do hope everyone still enjoys it now that we have come back to plot...?