A/N: So this is a little bit of a departure from what I had planned, mostly because I didn't want to tear Faberry apart as soon as they got together... I'm sure there is some that will appreciate that. Anyway, thanks so much for all the fabulous reviews to the last chapter and I hope you enjoy this one as much as the last.

Thirty-Seven

Quinn's lips were suddenly leaving hers and Rachel couldn't help but chase after them, whimpering softly when she'd briefly found them only for them to be taken away.

"Berry," the voice was hoarse, slightly austere, entirely Quinn.

Rachel froze.

Admittedly, she'd taken a rather manipulative approach to attain what she'd desired. Despite popular belief, Rachel was extremely perceptive when drawn to a worthy subject—though she suspected Quinn's jealousy was quite obvious—since it only required a small degree of forward thinking to deduce that it could easily be used as fodder for motivation. However, Rachel had mistakenly omitted the moment her (notoriously unsubtle) prodding was realized for what it was.

She quickly stepped away, looking up into hazel eyes with the picture of innocence on her face.

"Would you perhaps like to watch a movie?" Rachel hastily turned to walk (scurry) out of the kitchen. "I believe we have more than enough of a selection—"

Quinn's hand was suddenly gripping wrist and Rachel conceded to the fact that perhaps it might've been beneficial to arrange for a more effective escape. In her defense, the ten-minute car ride to her home was a vastly short period of time to effectively prepare a plan of this magnitude.

Sacrifices had to be made.

She could only hope that Quinn would spare her nose.

Rachel peaked one eye open and Quinn's face swam into view. Only, the blonde looked almost amused but surely that couldn't be the case. Brown eyes instantly fluttered fully open to investigate.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to hit you, Berry, though the thought has crossed my mind."

"Good because I assure you that won't be necessary, Quinn," Rachel hurried to declare, shifting from foot-to-foot before adding, "I think you'll come to see that I only had the best intentions in mind when I—"

Quinn's hand went up and Rachel's mouth fell closed while her brown eyes darted around the kitchen nervously. So many knives within reaching distance, that didn't bode well for her short stature.

"Just, stop talking," Quinn sighed, shaking her head when Rachel started to nod rapidly. "We're not watching a musical."

Rachel's head bobbed slightly, as it came to a sudden halt and a frown firmly etched itself in place. She supposed Barbra would have to wait—even the words were saturated with burning betrayal.

Still, Rachel (begrudgingly) forced herself to agree. "I suppose that could be arranged. In fact I was thinking A Night at the Roxbury would be appropriate."

After all, it was an excellent icebreaker.

Her fathers swore by it.

Quinn's eyebrow briefly raised and Rachel realized that she was wholly unprepared for rejection. She couldn't possibly sit through Bring It On when Quinn found the (widely) used copy in her daddy's side of the movie cabinet.

"That sounds fine, Berry," Quinn sounded amused, the slight smirk on her lips only further confirmed it.

Rachel was unhappy to note that her panic must've shown all over her face because her acting was far more superior than that. Though as it seemed, Quinn was proving to be her inner Steep's Achilles heel.

Shaking her head, Rachel used Quinn's hold to pull her along into the living room. She was momentarily shocked by the girl's easy compliance but reminded herself that the blonde wanted to be there.

Quinn obviously liked kissing her—that much was easy to surmise—and her envious reaction to Rachel's past experience with Santana further proved that Quinn would rather their relations stay exclusive, well from Rachel's side anyway.

And that was entirely more progress than Rachel could claim for a good amount of time, since possibly way back in the second grade when Quinn complimented her voice in the spring concert. Rachel had sung a moving rendition of Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah complete with the appropriate props and dance steps.

Suffice to say, Rachel was tickled pink.

"I'm glad you agree, Quinn," Rachel detangled herself from Quinn's hand to begin her search to locate the chosen video. "Though this movie is full of subpar acting and the plot is highly questionable, its cheesy exterior makes it an odd combination of witty and endearing."

She put in the movie and sat on the couch, careful to keep a respectable (one and a half cushion) distance from Quinn, placing a few pillows between them just in case. As Rachel was naturally clingy—and with the haze of jealousy gone—she doubted Quinn shared the same cuddly sentiments.

Satisfied, Rachel pressed play, settling in as the opening credits rolled, except Quinn was laughing beside her. There wasn't anything even remotely amusing on the screen and a quick glance over yielded nothing but those hazel eyes staring directly at her.

Quinn then gestured between them. "You don't think a pillow wall is a bit much? You didn't seem to mind being close to me ten minutes ago."

Rachel blushed, she was sure her cheeks were the perfect picture of embarrassment because maybe she had somewhat overreacted. She hastily tore the pillow barricade down, knocking it to the floor with a huff.

"I apologize if you found my attempts to be overzealous," Rachel crossed her arms, bristling slightly as Quinn continued to laugh. "I just wanted to ensure you were comfortable."

The giggling stopped and Rachel chanced a glimpse over. Quinn was just looking at her with shimmering hazel eyes, almost fondly.

Unfortunately, one blink had washed it all away.

"We wouldn't want to miss any of this subpar acting and questionable plot, would we, Berry?"

Quinn then quickly turned her attention back to the screen.

Rachel sighed. "Do you see the use of my surname to be a regular thing when referring to me or is there something I can do to expedite the process?"

"Maybe, I haven't thought about it," Quinn shrugged, lips twitching upwards as Rachel exhaled her annoyance loudly.

Following that, the two sat in silence with only the sounds of the movie as a backdrop.

Until Rachel's phone signaled the arrival of a new text message. With a quick glance, she sighed and swiftly turned off her phone, placing the phone (screen down) onto the coffee table. She could feel Quinn's eyes on her and Rachel wasn't shy about meeting them.

"Noah seems very fond of complaining about his forced punishment with Coach Bieste," Rachel rolled her eyes because she highly doubted besting Finn in the juvenile competitions she'd witnessed earlier were even a little bit excruciating for him. "His mother seems to think that all his problems stem from his rocky relationship with Finn."

Quinn shifted slightly but her eyes never left the screen. "It's not though, is it?"

Rachel wasn't entirely sure on the proper course of action because—to be honest—she wanted to break Noah's confidence and share everything. Perhaps then Quinn would ponder giving him a chance, though Rachel didn't quite like the thought of her position as mediator being rendered obsolete.

"No," she sighed, shaking her head, her brown eyes boring into the side of Quinn's face. "Noah is still very upset about his father, circumstances with you seem to be making it worse."

Quinn stiffened and Rachel did so as well, purely a reactionary move learned from long exposure to the blonde's ever-fluctuating moods.

"I told him not to be sorry," Quinn murmured lowly, her gorgeous jaw line hardening, marring its beauty as she clenched her teeth.

Rachel's hands itched to reach out and wipe that tension away but she reasoned it was highly dangerous. Initiating the kiss in the car—and the subsequent move in the kitchen—had depleted all of the daring she'd had in supply.

She clasped her hands in her lap, looking at them as she said, "I don't think it works that way unfortunately, though I'm confused as to why you don't feel he needs to be apologetic. Though he still pledges to be hazy on the details, what he does remember certainly—"

"He just doesn't, okay!" interrupted Quinn and brown eyes flew up to stare at the blonde.

Rachel had definitely not been expecting such an outburst. In fact, she hadn't even meant to bring such a topic up—as it was highly awkward for both of them and entirely something she wanted to avoid—considering the abysmal way their last conversation about it had gone.

Still, curiosity killed the cat, as they say. Rachel just couldn't resist.

"I find that makes absolutely no sense, Quinn..." she trailed off as her thoughts started flying, her eyes briefly darted around to locate a pen, "unless your recollection of that night is much clearer than Noah's in which I'd greatly encourage you to share your—"

Quinn turned to looked at her and Rachel's thoughts stopped cold, stuck in the mossy green abyss that those (customarily) wonderfully hazel eyes had become.

Rachel was mesmerized or at the very least too scared to death, as this look was very similar to the one that surfaced before threats of bodily harm and slurs attacking her femininity.

But Quinn's eyes just shifted away. "We are watching the movie, Berry."

Rachel wanted answers.

She wanted to know the circumstances of that night and feel as if Quinn valued her enough to confide in her. She wanted to be able to fully forgive Noah and not ignore her feelings to ensure he wasn't a masked bank robber featured on the eleven o'clock news. But ultimately, it wasn't any of her business. Three kisses and a slue of flirty text messages didn't amount to an indisputable right to demand to know.

So, she sighed and pushed down that wanting deep within her chest. "I suppose we can but I encourage you to share your recollection with Noah, Quinn. He does deserve to know because whether you like it or not, you two are invariably stuck in that night and to move on such a conversation needs to occur. I believe it would be best for both of you. At the very least, it would afford you a good nights sleep."

Silence stretched and Rachel sat with baited breath, just waiting for Quinn's reaction to her words. But, unfortunately, the seconds ticked by, Chris Kattan and that other guy maneuvered themselves closer to their dreams of owning a night club and Quinn didn't offer anything.

Rachel was just about to concede defeat and then, "The next doctors appointment is Friday. I want you to be there and I guess Puck has to come too since he got himself arrested to pay for it."

It was said softly, almost a whisper but it definitely sounded like success.

Beaming, Rachel quickly nodded. "Of course, Quinn. We have a ridiculous Glee sanctioned trip in the afternoon, thanks to Finn's attempts to impress me and Mr. Schuester's odd fixation with ruining my career, but we should be back with more than enough time to spare."

"What?" Quinn's eyes narrowed, as she glanced Rachel's way. "He's in Glee now?"

Rachel sighed. "Yes, he arrived during today's practice and while it's actually quite flattering that he'd put aside his reputation to do something on my behalf, however futile and misguided it may be, this trip will only amount in disaster for all parties involved."

"Great," Quinn grumbled and hazel eyes were back to glaring at the television set.

Rachel just rolled her eyes and grabbed the blonde's hand.

It seemed to calm Quinn down, if only a little bit.

Rachel was (undoubtedly) thrilled to say the least.