Disclaimer: I, by no means, claim to own anything remotely related to the Glee Universe. No copyright infringement intended.
AN: I've always been a little curious about a Universe where Rachel doesn't come from a supportive household, and this is the result.
I
As far as first impressions go, Quinn Fabray would definitely sell part of her soul for a do-over.
Even thinking about it makes her cringe, but there's definitely nothing to be done. Quinn knows she can be a bitch on her best days, but, added to the complete ridiculousness of her mother, she's on some other level tonight.
It's three weeks into her senior year of high school when Quinn's relatively cookie-cutter life changes, absolutely and completely, almost without her say-so. She's had everything meticulously planned out, all of it set out for her, and now… this.
It's a random Friday night, and Quinn is... furious.
She's livid.
It's the kind of anger only a teenager named Quinn Fabray can muster. It burns in her veins, and her ears are fiery red while her fists clench.
It starts when her mother, Judy Fabray, shows up at William McKinley High School after the football game where Quinn was cheerleading, and insists Quinn come home, after she was initially told she could spend the evening out.
Which Judy had to know was always going to start the mother of all arguments.
Quinn, enraged beyond measure, storms into the house ahead of her mother, dragging her school bag and gym bag behind her. She kicks them into a corner of the entrance hall and rounds on her mother with a burning stare.
"I just don't understand!" she yells, now that they're in the safety of their home. She doesn't even bother to look around as she levels her glare at Judy, who looks as calm and unruffled as ever. "Why are you doing this to me? Do you hate me or something?"
Judy internally sighs. "I've already explained it to you," she says, ever so calm as she closes the front door, making sure to lock it, knowing her husband currently isn't home.
"It doesn't make sense to me," Quinn says, waving her arms in exasperation. "Nothing about this makes any sense."
"Quinn," she says patiently.
"No!" Quinn yells. "What part of 'It's my best friend's birthday party tonight' don't you understand?"
Judy knows she shouldn't match Quinn's tone, because that's just going to make things worse. Her daughter is fiery on normal days, but she's reaching higher levels tonight. It's already the second time it's happened in a few days, and Judy is worried it's turning into a pattern.
"Quinn, you've just arrived home from school, and now you already want to head out, when you've been complaining endlessly about how tired you are?"
"Of course, I complain!" Quinn shouts, staring incredulously at her, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "School sucks, and the work is hard and, yeah, I'm exhausted, but, Mom, this is Santana's eighteenth birthday, and you're literally telling me I have to stay home. How on Earth can I not go?"
"Because I said you can't," Judy says, maintaining her calm.
"That is complete crap!"
Judy narrows her eyes. "I understand you're angry, but that gives you no right to speak to me like that."
Quinn has the decency to look ashamed, but the rage is still flowing through her. "Why?" she asks, cursing the fact she let Santana pick her up for early practice this morning. All of this could have been avoided if she'd just taken her own damn car. "Why couldn't you have just let me leave with Santana?"
"Because I texted you to come home after the game and you didn't reply, so the only way to ensure you did as I said was to fetch you myself."
"I'm not some kid, Mom," Quinn snaps. "I'm seventeen years old, and I should be allowed to - "
Judy's hand unexpectedly shoots out to cover Quinn's mouth, stopping the teenager's rant.
Quinn's eyes widen, and she mumbles something against her mother's hand.
"Ssh," Judy says, her eyes wide. "I forgot we have a visitor."
Quinn frowns, and then wraps her hand around her mother's wrist and moves it away. "What?"
Judy ignores her, and walks towards the living room, peering into the room through the archway. She lets out a gasp, which prompts Quinn to follow her, and she walks right into the open space, coming face-to-face with her sister and someone who must be one of her friends sitting around the coffee table, with their books spread out in front of them.
Quinn can't really explain what happens to her in this moment, but something does. There are two pairs of eyes on her, but it's a chestnut set that forces an uneasiness to creep into her bones.
Her first response is to laugh, because she's probably losing it a little. "Great," she says sarcastically, looking at her mother. "We even have an audience. Now, everyone can see just how unfair you're being."
Judy glares at her. "Quinn Fabray, you stop this behaviour right now." Her tone is dangerous, and Quinn should probably heed the warning, but she has blinders on.
"No, Mom," Quinn says, rolling her eyes. "We should probably let our audience know exactly what's going on. Please, please, everybody tune in: Judy Fabray here has decided it would be prudent to force her daughter to miss her best friend's eighteenth birthday bash, because she thinks she needs to rest."
"Quinn," Judy says.
"Please," Quinn suddenly says. "You can't honestly be doing this to me. I'm convinced I'm dreaming. Seriously. What am I supposed to tell Santana?"
"My decision is final," Judy says, suddenly stern. "Now, take your things upstairs, and try to show some consideration to our guest."
Quinn is even more infuriated by the dismissal, and she stalks towards her bags, lifting them roughly. "This isn't fair," she practically hisses at her mother, and then glowers when she spies the smug smile on her sister's face. She sends a heated look at her mother. "It's not fair," she repeats. "Just because Sarah has no life and has no choice but to stay home, why do I?"
"Hey," Sarah says from her position on the floor. "Don't bring me into this."
Quinn shoots her a look. "But, it's your fault!" she accuses. "You're stuck here, so Mom's stuck here, and now I'm stuck here, while my entire grade celebrates my best friend's birthday." She huffs out a breath. "Why doesn't anyone get that?"
Judy takes a deep breath, tired of having to defend her choice. She strongly believes parents should be able to make decisions without offering explanations, and she definitely knows Quinn wouldn't be behaving this way if Russell were home.
"Quinn," Judy says. "I'm going to say this once and only once: you are to go upstairs right now. Nobody is coming to pick you up, and you really don't want to test me by attempting to sneak out of this house. I believe you said you have a lot of work to do."
Quinn frowns. "You must be crazy to think I'm going to do any work tonight," she says, scoffing. "This isn't fair, and you all know it," she says one last time, and then trudges up the stairs.
Judy waits until Quinn slams her bedroom door to let out a heavy sigh. She looks towards her younger daughter and her new friend, and offers an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that," she says, her eyes on Sarah's friend, who is rather surprising in that she's not the usual kind of friend Sarah has.
For the most part, Sarah has bonded more with boys in the past, but her best friends have always been girls. Rosalie moved away in the second grade, Hannah in the fourth, and then Jenna in the eighth. Sarah's had a pretty rough go of it in that department, but she seems to have taken to this one quite strongly.
"She's a dramatic one," Judy adds after a moment
Sarah rolls her eyes. "That's an understatement."
Judy lets out a little laugh. "You girls all right?" she asks. "Do you need anything?"
"What's for dinner?" Sarah asks.
"I thought I'd make some chilli stir fry," Judy says, moving further into the living room.
"That's Quinn's favourite," Sarah grumbles.
"As if it's not one of yours, as well," Judy teases, dropping a kiss to the top of her daughter's head. "Rachel, does that sound okay with you?"
Said girl snaps to attention, oddly feeling a little overwhelmed by the last ten minutes, and how she feels about what she just witnessed. "Oh, um, yes, that sounds perfect," she says.
"Is there anything you're allergic to?" Judy asks, starting on her way to kitchen.
"Nothing," she says. "That I'm aware of, at least."
"Dietary requirements?"
"No, Ma'am."
Judy nods with a smile. The girl is painfully polite. "You two can move to the kitchen table if you want," she says. "I wouldn't mind the company."
Sarah laughs. "Sure thing, Mom."
It's almost an hour later when Quinn returns downstairs, freshly showered and dressed in a casual pair of sweatpants and a purple tank top.
She feels calmer after she spent nearly ten minutes venting her frustration to a completely unsympathetic Santana Lopez.
Not that Quinn expected anything different, really.
Santana called her a pansy, and Quinn is still trying to figure out if she'll actually be able to get away with making it out of this house without her mother noticing.
Quinn enters the kitchen to find her mother at the stove, and the smell that hits her makes her mouth water. Sarah and her new friend are working on homework at the kitchen table, and Quinn ignores them as she heads to the fridge.
What she sees makes her anger flare. "Where are my carrots?" she asks, turning accusing eyes on her mother.
Judy just gestures to a bowl sitting on the counter, indicating carefully sliced carrot sticks. "I thought I would make it easier for you," she says.
Quinn just grabs the tub of hummus from the top shelf, and then closes the fridge door. She fights to maintain her frown as she retrieves her carrot bowl. "This doesn't mean I'm not still angry with you," she says, huffing. "But, thank you."
"Don't have too much," Judy gently says. "Dinner's almost ready."
Quinn just stiffly nods, and then moves to sit at the free end of the kitchen table. She props her feet up on a free chair, and looks at her sister. "Why on earth are you doing homework on a Friday night?"
"Why on earth are you at home on a Friday night?" Sarah shoots back.
Quinn rolls her eyes. "Whatever," she mutters. Then: "Who's your friend, anyway?"
"Quinn," Judy immediately reprimands. "Don't be rude."
Quinn just looks at the new girl. "I don't know you," she says, "and I know all of Sarah's friends, which are very few, just by the way. Why don't I know you?"
"Jesus, Quinn," Sarah says. "You can turn the HBIC off, you know? We're at home."
"It's in my blood," Quinn says, shrugging, as she picks up a carrot, scoops up some hummus and takes a bite.
Sarah shakes her head, annoyed. "This is Rachel," she says. "She's new this year."
Quinn looks at the girl, who's about as petite as they come. Her hair is dark, and so are her eyes. Her skin is tanned, and there's a certain untouchable quality to her that makes Quinn shift in her seat.
"Rachel," Quinn says, finding she quite likes the way the name sounds as it leaves her mouth. "Just Rachel?"
"Rachel Berry," the girl says, and her voice is... almost musical. "My name is Rachel Berry."
Quinn cocks her head to the side. "Well, hello there, Rachel Berry, I'm Quinn Fabray, Sarah's only and much hotter older sister."
"God, you're the worst," Sarah says, but she's amused, if her smile is anything to go by. "But, yeah, Rachel's new to McKinley, and to Lima."
"Jesus, I'm sorry," Quinn says, biting at her carrot stick. "This is probably the worst place on Earth."
Judy clicks her tongue. "Quinn."
Quinn ignores her, eyes remaining on the only brunette in the room. "Why would you come here?"
Rachel seems to shrug, clearly not wanting to divulge that bit of information to someone who is, essentially, a stranger. "I just go where they tell me," she says, feeling a little uncomfortable under Quinn's scrutiny. The girl's hazel eyes are oddly intense, and Rachel wishes she would just stop looking at her.
Despite this being the first time they've officially met, Rachel has definitely seen Quinn around school. She's kind of difficult to miss, being the Head Cheerleader and all. She's seen the blonde in the corridors, and she's even had the displeasure of interacting with Quinn's supposed best friend, Santana Lopez.
Quinn's own eyes narrow, because it's obvious Rachel is withholding for a reason. Quinn isn't one to feel anxious, but she's suddenly swept by this strange feeling that she needs to rectify Rachel's opinion of her.
For what could be the first time in her life, she feels as if she should apologise. "I'm sorry about earlier," she says, and her tone is surprisingly soft. "I'm not normally so rude like that."
"Liar," Sarah says. "You totally are. All the time. You're a giant pain, really. Who lied to you?"
"Shut up," Quinn says.
Sarah blows her a kiss.
"Seriously, though," Quinn says; "Why are you home tonight?" She lifts another carrot stick. "And doing homework like the total losers you are?"
Rachel flinches at the sound of the word 'losers,' and Quinn notices.
Sarah doesn't. "We have a huge English project due next week," she answers. "And, we have to get it done this weekend, because they're just piling it up."
Quinn smiles, because she has no other choice. It's this wide thing that lights up her entire face, and Rachel has to look away before she says or does something stupid. "You're sophomores," Quinn says; "what could you possibly be complaining about? Seriously, wait until you're seniors."
"But you guys have all these free periods," Sarah points out. "I mean, haven't you completed most of your credits, anyway?"
Quinn shrugs, choosing not to comment. They don't need to know what she spends her time doing. So, she just eats her carrot stick, trying to figure out just why she feels so unsettled in this moment. Her eyes drift towards Rachel again, and she's surprised to find the girl looking at her.
For a terrifying moment, she feels heat sneak up her neck, but her attention shifts when Sarah speaks.
"So," she says, twisting her pen in her right hand. "I guess I'm sorry you don't get to go out tonight. It sucks, and I don't really think it's fair."
Quinn glances at Judy, who's adding a bit of seasoning to a pot and pretending she's not listening. "Thank you," she says, shrugging. "It is what it is." She seems to pause, pouting slightly, and Sarah looks curious while Rachel tries not to stare at the full lips right in front of her.
Quinn suddenly gets to her feet, surprising them all. Judy even drops her spoon. "You know what," Quinn says; "we can have our own party."
Before anyone can even question her, Quinn shoots out of the room and into the lounge. They can hear her scrambling around, and then there's a loud screech, a mumbled curse, and then music is suddenly blaring from the sound system.
"Jesus," Sarah says, wincing when OneRepublic blasts from the speakers.
Quinn pops her head back into the kitchen. "Come on, ladies," she says. "It's Friday night, and Dad isn't home, so it's only fitting we party the right way, don't you think?"
Judy casts a nervous look at her older daughter. "Sweetheart, I don't think that's a good idea."
Quinn looks at her, debating with herself over the merits of actually engaging in an argument over it. She decides against it, rolls her eyes, and then heads out again.
They hear the music change to Swedish House Mafia, and the volume increases to an insufferable level.
"God, I hate her sometimes," Sarah grumbles, shaking her head. "I swear I could kill her. I can barely hear myself think." She looks helplessly at her mother, but Judy just shrugs. She's done her fighting for one evening.
Sarah looks at Rachel. "We're better off just joining her," she says.
Rachel's heart jolts a little at the idea of... partying with Quinn Fabray. "I think my brain switched off a long time ago, anyway," she says, yawning.
Sarah laughs as she slowly gets to her feet. "Come on," she says; "let's go see what the crazy girl is up to."
Rachel hesitates for only a moment, but then she's getting up as well, lifting her arms and stretching. She's generally comfortable around Sarah. They kind of hit it off pretty quickly on Rachel's first day of school when they were made to sit beside each other in Spanish, and they've become fast friends.
This is, however, the first time she's actually visited Sarah's home, meeting her mother and sister, and the ease she usually feels around Sarah has faded away. Her heart is beating a little too fast, and she can't seem to catch her breath.
It's not as if she didn't know Sarah was the Head Cheerleader's sister. It's just, well, she didn't really think about it too much.
Quinn is Quinn, and Sarah is Sarah.
Rachel didn't think she would ever have to interact with the taller blonde, who they find standing in the middle of the living room, slowly bobbing her head to the music.
"What shit is this?" Sarah asks, heading towards where Quinn's iPod is plugged into the system.
Quinn startles slightly, and then grins a little. "Finally come to your senses, I see," she says, watching her sister cross the room. Her eyes drift to Rachel, who looks a little unsure as she hovers just inside the room. Quinn waves a hand. "Come on," she says; "we don't bite."
Rachel audibly swallows, because it's definitely not helping her situation to have Quinn actually talking to her. This is not how she expected her Friday night to go, and having Quinn's attention is a little - okay, a lot - disarming. The girl is charming without trying, and Rachel is determined not to be charmed.
If she just remembers the Quinn who was yelling at her mother, then she'll be fine. If she just recalls the cold glare of the girl who stalks the school's corridors, then she won't think about how good Quinn looks right now, face a little flushed, eyes dark behind her glasses and blonde hair in a messy bun.
Sarah changes the song to Sweet Nothing by Calvin Harris featuring Florence Welch, and then she rushes towards Rachel, reaching for her hands. "Let's dance," she says.
Rachel casts a nervous look at Quinn, but the blonde is looking at her phone. It eases some of the tension in her body to have Quinn's attention off her, and she lets the music travel through her limbs.
She's a dancer. It's in her blood, swimming in her veins, and she allows the beat to take over, her heart beating loudly and her eyes slipping closed.
Quinn knows she shouldn't stare, but she can't help it. She's had these kinds of dance parties with her sister before. Not recently, of course, but her childhood was filled with all sorts of shenanigans with her kid sister.
Sarah, generally, likes to make a fool of herself, but Rachel -
Quinn's mouth goes dry. Her eyes are frozen on hips that shouldn't exist, and she's well aware of the fact her mouth is hanging open.
"Quinn," Sarah suddenly says. "Come dance with us."
With a quick shake of her head to clear it, she throws her phone onto the couch and then starts to dance. She heads towards Sarah, immediately twirling her until she lets out a laugh.
It's fun.
Quinn can almost forget Rachel is right beside her. It's definitely not the heat of another person's body she's feeling. Not at all.
They go through three songs, before Rachel does the thing and effectively seals Quinn's fate.
She starts to sing along to the song and, while Sarah just screams the lyrics, Rachel sings, and Quinn is caught off guard by the sound of her voice.
"Wow," Quinn says, mostly to herself, but Rachel glances at her, and Quinn swears her smile is more of a smirk.
Judy enters the room then, waving a hand at them to cut the music. Sarah skips towards the iPod, and presses pause.
"Dinner's ready," Judy says, and then heads back to the kitchen.
Sarah goes first, following the call to food, but Quinn lingers a moment, her mouth opening to speak before she can stop it. "You have a great voice."
Rachel stares at her for a moment, and then she says, "I know."
On anyone else, it might sound arrogant, but Rachel seems to be stating a fact, and Quinn can't help her smile. It spreads across her face, and she doesn't know what it is about this girl, but she knows she's going to have to be careful.
"Quinn!" Sarah yells from the kitchen. "I'm going to eat your bacon bits."
That gets Quinn moving, and she practically bolts from the room, earning herself a giggle from Rachel. She tries to ignore the way her stomach flips at the sound as she heads into the kitchen and takes her seat.
"It smells really good, Mrs Fabray," is the first thing Rachel says when she enters the kitchen.
"I told you to call me Judy, Honey," Judy says; "and, thank you. It's one of my secret recipes."
Quinn rolls her eyes. "She only says that because she doesn't want us to live without her."
Judy pokes Quinn's forearm with her finger. "What would you do without me?"
Quinn winks at her. "Probably be at a party right now."
Judy just laughs, and then presents Rachel with the serving spoon for the accompanying rice. "Guests first," she says.
Rachel hesitates for a moment, but eventually acquiesces. She recognises that arguing is just going to be futile, so she quickly dishes for herself, and then waits until everyone has done the same to start eating.
It's fascinating for her to see the differences in this family. Sarah is genuinely unapologetic, dishing a fair amount of food and immediately digging in. Judy is prim, proper, so much a lady as she carefully dishes and then eats with perfect posture and culinary skills.
And, Quinn, who dishes the least out of all of them, picks at her food for a few moments, and then seemingly forces herself to eat.
Conversation is minimal as they eat until Judy suddenly says, "Sweetheart?" and turns her gaze on Quinn, even as both sisters look up at the term of endearment.
"Hmm?"
"Have some more."
Quinn eyes her critically.
"It's your favourite," Judy adds, smiling innocently.
Quinn clenches her jaw, and then reluctantly dishes a second helping that's less than half her original offering. Sarah goes for her own second helping, and Rachel watches it all with curious eyes.
"I'm fine, you know," Quinn murmurs, looking at Judy.
"I know," Judy says, and nothing more is said about it.
After they've eaten, Quinn does the dishes while Rachel and Sarah finish up with their homework. Rachel is very aware of Quinn's presence, as the girl floats around the kitchen, absently humming along to the music playing from the living room.
Rachel tries not to look at her, but her gaze does drift from time to time, and she finds it extremely difficult to stay focused on the essay she has to write on Macbeth.
Quinn Fabray is a fascinating specimen to her, but she's forcing herself not to think about it, because she knows it can end in only disaster and heartbreak. She's been in this position before, and what she already knows about this town and this family is that she's definitely going to have to curb those desires that are, well, frowned upon.
Rachel is all too aware of the moment Quinn finishes with the dishes, and then disappears from the kitchen without a word. She lets out a breath she didn't even realise she was holding when it's just her and Sarah left, and she's finally able to concentrate on her work.
For all of ten minutes.
The music blares again, and Sarah gives up far too quickly.
"Oh, screw it," Sarah declares, throwing her pen onto the table. "I think I'm done for the night. What about you?"
Rachel just nods.
"Want to go resume our dance party?" She asks the question, but she's already on her way out of her seat, and Rachel takes three deep breaths before she follows behind her blonde friend.
They find Quinn dancing alone, and Rachel just stands there in wonder as Quinn's hips sway to the beat, her arms in the air. The look on her face is mesmerising, so soft and relaxed, and Rachel knows she's in trouble.
Especially when Quinn glances her way and grins. It's this playful thing that makes Rachel's heart rate rise. Eventually, Quinn looks away and that should be that.
Except that Sarah drags Rachel further into the room, and they join Quinn for her impromptu dance party, once more.
While Rachel tries her best to stay aware of where Quinn is at all times, she's surprised when, just three songs later, said blonde is right next to her and looking at her curiously.
"Where did you move from?" Quinn asks, leaning in to ask the question of Rachel over the music.
Rachel sucks in a breath at Quinn's proximity, and forces herself not to move away the way she desperately wants to. "Uh, why?"
"Just curious," Quinn says.
Rachel drops her gaze for a moment. "We moved from New York."
"Whoa."
Rachel smiles, somewhat sheepishly. "It's quite the change, yeah."
Quinn wants to ask her something more, but Sarah is suddenly dragging Rachel away, and the brunette offers Quinn a what-can-you-do kind of smile.
Quinn just goes back to her mini dance party, but she tires quickly - though, she'll never mention that to her mother - and collapses on one of the couches.
Sarah takes the cue and reduces the volume, before she too throws herself into an armchair. She looks at Quinn. "You still planning on going out?" she asks.
Quinn rolls her eyes. "What makes you think I would ever risk something like that?"
Sarah gives her a look.
Quinn shrugs. "I'll see how I feel," she says noncommittally. "I hate to admit it, but I am kind of tired."
Sarah's brow furrows. "Is it - "
"No, I'm fine," she gently interrupts, glancing at Rachel, who is still standing and currently going through the music on Quinn's iPod.
Quinn feels oddly exposed at the thought she'll possibly learn things about her from her song collection. Playlists are such a personal thing, and she hopes Rachel doesn't judge her too harshly based on what she likes to listen to.
Her heart practically jolts when she remembers she has an actual High School Musical playlist on there, and she has to force herself not to jump up and grab the device from the girl's hands.
Still, she sits, trying to be inconspicuous about watching Rachel. Quinn finds the general line of the girl's body to be fascinating. Her posture is perfect - Judy would be proud - and there's something so... Quinn wouldn't go so far as to call it angelic, but there's something unreal about this strange girl who has now captivated her.
Maybe ethereal.
There's really nothing more to it.
They've said only a handful of words to each other, but Quinn is... hooked. Smitten.
She can feel it.
This girl is unlike any other person Quinn has ever met before, and that's saying something, because being as popular as she is means she meets a lot of people.
Quinn wants to ask question after question, but she doesn't want Sarah - or even Rachel - to think it's weird, or possibly even catch on to what it could all possibly mean.
This has never happened to her before. Not only is this person who's causing her heart to stutter a girl, but she's also a stunning girl, who happens to be Sarah's friend, which means she's Sarah's age.
God, Quinn is going to burn in Hell.
She's had a few passing thoughts about how pretty some girls are, but she's never actually been attracted to a real one, and that's exactly what's happening with Rachel Berry.
Quinn knows nothing can come of it, so she just sighs and rolls her head to the side, her eyes slipping closed and missing the way Rachel's features soften when her eyes land on Quinn's face.
Rachel's heard stories about Quinn from some of the students in her year and, when the girl first entered the house, Rachel could see where they were coming from, but everything feels different now. Despite her explosive showings from earlier, Rachel can't help that she's intrigued when she really shouldn't be.
"I think this is my favourite song of, like, all time," Sarah says when Collide by Howie Day comes on, and Quinn opens her eyes to meet her sister's gaze.
"Remember when we listened to it on repeat that one afternoon when I was a sophomore?" Quinn says, eyes a little faraway.
"We napped to it, I remember," Sarah says, smiling slightly.
There's a shared moment between them that Rachel isn't a part of, and the brunette absently wonders what secrets they share. Having no sisters herself, she wonders what it must be like growing up with one.
There's love there, and she wonders if it's the unconditional kind.
When Judy comes to bid them goodnight, she urges them not to stay up too late, which she knows is going to fall on deaf ears. Still, she says it, and then retires to her bedroom.
The three girls don't move, save for when Sarah puts in a movie for them to watch. Which they don't really do. Sarah ends up asking Rachel about New York, and the brunette starts to tell them stories about her old life.
Quinn just watches her in wonder, hanging off every word she says like the hopeless idiot she's now decided she is.
Quinn learns that Rachel has a mother and a stepfather, and twin little brothers, whom she loves but are also the complete bane of her existence. She learns Rachel's favourite colour is yellow, and that she's been professionally trained in ballet and jazz, and her mother coaches her vocally.
Quinn also learns that Rachel misses New York a lot, and that they picked Lima to move to because her mother grew up in Ohio, and she was offered a job to teach at William McKinley.
"Miss Corcoran is her mother," Sarah tells Quinn, but Quinn's never heard of the woman. "She teaches English."
Quinn is in every Advanced Placement class there is, so she probably won't encounter the woman.
Sarah tells Rachel things about their family, weaving in a few tales about her and Quinn's shared childhood that have them all in stitches.
Quinn is growing to love Rachel's laugh, and she carefully prompts Sarah to keep telling stories just so she can keep hearing it.
The three of them end up talking right until the moment Sarah falls asleep, nodding off almost mid-sentence, which makes Rachel giggle while Quinn just shakes her head in amusement.
The silence that follows is both strange and comforting, and Quinn looks at her, tempted to ask all the questions she's been burning to ask. For some reason, she feels the need to hold off, maybe slow everything down. Take it easy, as it were. Not rush. Let it all happen organically.
Quinn audibly swallows. "I think that's a sign," she says, slowly getting to her feet. "This is very rude of her, huh?" she says, shuffling towards where Sarah is passed out. "How can she just leave her guest like this?"
Rachel glances at her. "Like sister, like sister, huh?"
Quinn blushes, looking away. "Should I wake her?"
"No, it's okay," Rachel says, slowly rising from her seat. "I'm actually surprised she lasted this long, to be honest. We've had a shocker of a week."
Quinn just nods. "Umm, do you know where you're sleeping?" she asks, coming to a stop over Sarah's slumbering form.
"In the guest room, I believe," Rachel says, as she starts to tidy up the small mess they've managed to make.
"Oh, you don't have to do that," Quinn hastily says; "I'll come down and sort everything out, don't worry."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive," Quinn says.
"I feel as if I should be doing something."
Quinn's smile is warm. "How's about you turn down Sarah's bed for me?" she offers. "I'll be right behind you with the mole rat."
Rachel frowns. "You're going to carry her?"
Quinn just shrugs, and then bends to slip her arms under Sarah's body. She takes a breath, and then lifts, groaning only slightly. Normally, their father carries Sarah, but Quinn kind of likes having this... thing with her sister. In less than a year, Quinn's going to be at college, and then what?
Quinn leads the way out of the living room and up the stairs towards Sarah's bedroom, with Rachel following close behind her. It makes her a little nervous, really, and she's relieved when she steps into Sarah's messy room.
Rachel rushes around her, and she shifts Sarah's duvet back, so Quinn can set the girl down, before covering her again. She steps back once Sarah is sufficiently tucked in, and she's surprised by how close Quinn is actually standing to her.
"Thank you," Quinn says, not moving away.
"Sure," Rachel whispers.
"I kind of wish she could be that peaceful all the time," Quinn observes, looking down at her sister.
Rachel smiles. "But, then, she wouldn't be the Sarah Fabray we know and love, now would she?"
"I wouldn't mind," Quinn teases, winking at her.
Rachel blushes, ducking her head slightly, because this is just ridiculous. She does not have a crush on her friend's sister. Her potential best friend.
That's definitely not what's happening here.
Quinn turns then, absently tugging on Rachel's sweater to get them out of Sarah's bedroom. She doesn't completely close the door, because Sarah likes having the corridor's light shining through. She'll never admit to being wary of the dark, but it's definitely something Quinn won't ever tease her about.
Quinn leads Rachel to the guest room, coming to a stop at the door. "Are you going to be okay?" she asks. "Do you need anything?"
"No, I think I'm good, thank you."
"You sure?"
"I'm pretty sure I'm capable of putting myself to bed," Rachel says, and then immediately regrets it when Quinn's eyebrows shoot up. Why on earth did she just say that?
Quinn clears her throat. "What I mean is do you need a glass of water or something? Toothpaste? A towel?"
Rachel just wants to disappear. "I'm good, thank you," she says again. "Goodnight, Quinn."
Quinn's heart stutters at the sound of her name from Rachel's lips, and she forces herself to take a step back. "Goodnight, Rachel," she says.
Which has a similar effect on Rachel.
Quinn turns on her heel, and then rushes down the stairs, practically feeling Rachel's gaze following her as she goes.
It takes Rachel a full minute before she feels able to move, and she slips into the guest room with her heart racing and her mind blank.
This isn't happening.
They've only been in Lima for a little over six weeks, and she's already managed to get herself the most disastrous crush imaginable. It's as if she just tries to make it difficult for herself. All she knows and all she's allowing herself to know is she's going to have to nip this in the bud before it gets out of hand.
With a shake of her head, Rachel grabs her toiletry bag and walks down the corridor to the guest bathroom. She has a regimented night routine, which she uses to calm her racing thoughts. She washes her face, moisturises, and then brushes her teeth for a full three minutes.
It doesn't help.
And, it just gets worse when she opens the bathroom door to find Quinn slipping out of her own bedroom, decidedly not dressed the way she was twenty-five minutes ago.
Rachel's eyes are wide when she takes in the sinfully short dark blue dress, coupled with a black leather jacket and the kind of heels that could kill a person. Her blonde hair is tousled to perfection, her glasses are gone and her makeup is dark.
Everything about her screams danger, and Rachel is drawn to her in all the worst ways.
Quinn freezes at the sight of Rachel, but she recovers quickly, smirking at the wide-eyed girl in front of her. She cocks her head, and then brings a finger up to her lips as an indicator to keep her quiet.
Rachel finds herself smiling before she can stop herself.
Quinn playfully salutes, winks, and then rushes down the stairs.
Rachel just watches her go again, already knowing she's probably going to get little to no sleep tonight.
Rachel is the first to wake, given that her body is trained to open her eyes at exactly six o'clock in the morning. It's not something that's disappeared with the move to Lima, much to her stepfather's chagrin, and it's something of a point of pride for her.
But, well, now she's in a new house in a neighbourhood she doesn't know, and she doesn't realistically think she can go for a run.
How does she even get out of the house?
Sighing to herself, she rolls out of the insanely comfortable bed and trudges to the door, with the intent of going to the bathroom.
What happens next is almost comical.
Rachel swings open the door at the exact moment Quinn steps onto the landing, and Rachel's entire being jolts. From surprise, sure, but also from the actual sight of Quinn. Her heels are held in her hands, replaced by black Chucks, and her leather jacket is zipped up an inch at the bottom.
All Rachel really knows is the girl is unfairly attractive.
Quinn freezes at the sight of her, and then she lets out the smallest laugh. "We've really got to stop meeting like this," she says, her mouth forming a tired smirk.
Really, if Rachel thought Quinn was appealing before, she's something else entirely in this moment. The girl is obviously exhausted, her makeup smudged and her hair a delightful mess.
But, it's the eyes. They're hazy and slightly unfocused, and Rachel can tell she's still drunk. Rachel can smell the alcohol on her, and the smoke, and the combination is heady. It just seems so unlike the image she's had of Quinn for any of these things to be apparent, and Rachel is an idiot to think this truth would help her ease off her massive crush.
"Are you just getting in?" Rachel asks, finding her voice.
Quinn saunters towards her, hips swaying, even if her legs seem a little unsteady. "It was an epic night, Berry."
Rachel shivers when Quinn comes to a stop in front of her, warm breath against her skin. And, the sound of her surname... she doesn't know how she's going to survive any of this. "What did you do?"
"Oh, you know," Quinn says, gaze meeting Rachel's. "All those bad, terrible things they tell you not to do."
"Like?"
"Booze, cigarettes, weed, making out with insignificant boys, the works."
Rachel feels her heart drop at even the thought of Quinn with a boy. Quinn with someone else, at all. "Those are bad for you," Rachel finds herself saying.
"All of them?"
Rachel nods.
"Hmm." Quinn sways forward, and Rachel holds her breath. It takes a moment, but Quinn gets a hold of herself, and then leans back. "What are you doing awake, anyway?"
"I always wake up this early," Rachel says. "I usually do some sort of exercise."
Quinn perks up. "You run?"
"Sometimes."
"Wanna go running with me?"
Rachel blinks. "When?"
"Right now."
"You can barely keep yourself upright," Rachel points out.
Quinn waves a hand, as if it's unimportant. "I'm fine."
Rachel makes to poke Quinn in the sternum, and the blonde sways perilously backwards before she even makes contact. "I'm sorry; what was that?"
Quinn just scowls at her.
Rachel giggles softly. "Why don't you catch a nap, and we can revisit this when you don't look like you've just partied the night away?"
"Promise?"
Rachel is hit by the sudden vulnerability in Quinn's voice, and she absently wonders if this is just a byproduct of her inebriated state. "I promise," Rachel says anyway.
Quinn smiles. "Okay," she says. "I'm going to sleep now."
"Okay."
Quinn cautiously sniffs at herself. "Maybe I should shower first."
"That sounds like a good idea."
"Are you trying to say I smell?"
"Yes."
Quinn lets out an unexpected laugh. "You're funny. I like you."
Rachel's stomach does a complete somersault that she desperately tries to ignore.
"All of Sarah's other friends are brats."
And, Rachel's stomach bottoms out, because she's just one of Sarah's friends, and Quinn is probably -
"See ya," Quinn suddenly says, and then she turns and heads to her bedroom. She pauses in her doorway and looks back at Rachel. "By the way," she starts; "I like the just-woke-up look you're sporting. It's cute."
And then she's gone, and Rachel's quite sure she's just died. There's no other explanation for the way her heart skips beats, and her breathing stops.
Oh, God.
Quinn Fabray just called her cute.
Kind of.
Still.
Oh, my God.
It's just gone eight o'clock when Judy emerges from upstairs to find Rachel sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea and her iPad in front of her.
"Oh," Judy says, surprised.
Rachel startles, and then smiles sheepishly. "Good morning, Mrs Fabray."
"Judy, please," she says. "And, good morning to you, too, dear. Have you been awake long?"
"Not really," Rachel lies. "I'm an early riser."
"So unlike Sarah."
Rachel giggles. "She seems like the type to sleep until noon."
"Oh, yes," Judy says, moving towards the kettle to boil some water for her own tea. "She's probably going to use it to her full advantage that my husband isn't home. He isn't really one for wasting the day away."
Rachel just watches as the woman practically floats about the room, which is in such contrast to her own mother. Shelby just doesn't seem to suit the kitchen. It's not her domain, and their entire family knows it. It's kind of a running gag that she and the rest of them would probably starve if it wasn't for Rachel's stepfather
"You could always just wake her," Judy says as she brews her tea. "I'm sure she won't mind... after she's complained for four full minutes."
Rachel smiles knowingly. "It's okay," she says. "It's still early. If she's still out for the count in an hour's time, then I'll wake her." She lifts her cup of tea and gestures at her iPad. "I have these two to keep me company for now."
Judy nods. "I'll get started on breakfast, then," she says. "Any preferences?"
"Anything is fine with me, thank you," Rachel says. "Is there anything I can help with?"
"Oh, no, you're our guest," she says. "You just sit there and enjoy your tea. You have free roam of the house. The TV is at your disposal, as well. You could even play the piano. That should definitely get Sarah up."
Rachel laughs lightly, twisting in her chair to watch as Judy shifts towards the fridge to survey what she has on hand. "Does Sarah play?"
"No, the piano's all Quinn," Judy says. "Sarah's technically the guitarist, but Quinn secretly knows how to play as well, and she just doesn't want to steal Sarah's thunder." She looks lost in a memory for a moment. "They used to put on these shows for us where they were younger. Quinn was convinced they were going to start a band."
Rachel smiles at the thought of a young Quinn and Sarah. She's seen pictures around the house, of two blonde girls with huge, beaming smiles, and she wonders how her own life would be if she'd appeared to be that happy in her own childhood.
"They both have their own interests," Judy says, almost talking to herself; "but music is something they share."
Rachel licks her lips. "Sarah's not a cheerleader."
Judy nods. "She's not, no," she says. "She's just not interested, I believe. She's more of an... Academic type, as it were. Science and all of that is what interests her, which is different to Quinn."
"She doesn't like Science?"
"I wouldn't go that far," Judy says, laughing softly. "She's just more... arty. Creative, I think they would call it. She draws and paints and writes."
Rachel knows she should feel bad for trying to learn all these things about Quinn through the girl's mother, but she doesn't know how else she's supposed to without outright asking. She also knows she really shouldn't be this interested in someone who is entirely out of her reach. It's not something she should even be considering at this point, or any point in the future.
Just as Rachel settles on her resolve, none other than Quinn Fabray stumbles into the kitchen, decidedly looking not as if she was a drunk mess just two hours ago. Instead, she looks fresh and bright-eyed. She's wearing red athletic shorts and a white t-shirt with the words 'Dazed and Confused' printed on its front that hugs her body in a way that makes Rachel feel indecent. She has a gym bag slung over her shoulder and her hair is in a tight ponytail.
Quinn looks surprised to find them both in the kitchen, and she mumbles a greeting as she heads to the fridge.
"Morning, honey," Judy says, offering Quinn a smile. "How did you sleep?"
Quinn freezes for a moment, and then says, "Fine."
Judy sighs. "I thought you said you didn't have practice today?"
Quinn shoots a look at her. "I'm surprised you heard anything I had to say at all."
"Quinn."
"We don't have practice when the team wins, which is never," she says. "Anyway, at least it's starting at nine today, and then I'm going to go and hang out with my best friend, because I now have a hell of a lot of sucking up to do for missing her birthday."
Judy doesn't even have it in her to argue at this point, so she doesn't.
Rachel doesn't miss the moment Quinn winks at her, but then her head is in the fridge, and Rachel wishes she had something to cool her heated face. This girl is going to be the death of her, and Rachel should just start planning her own funeral.
"Do you at least have time for breakfast?" Judy asks.
Quinn emerges from the fridge with two bottles of water and her leftover carrots in a small container. "No."
"Quinn."
"I'm fine, Mom," Quinn says, smiling softly. "I promise."
Judy moves to stand in front of her. "Are you sure?" she asks carefully, a gentle hand on Quinn's hip. "You normally only complain about fatigue when it's bad."
Quinn shifts uncomfortably, her eyes darting Rachel's way, slightly relieved when the brunette isn't looking, even though she can definitely hear. "Mom," she says. "I'm fine."
Judy sighs. "Okay," she relents, moving to kiss Quinn's forehead. "At least have some cereal."
Quinn rolls her eyes, but does stomp around preparing some granola muesli for herself. She opts for yoghurt instead of milk, and then goes to plop herself down at the kitchen table with Rachel.
"What are you doing?" Quinn asks, seemingly steeling herself for the half cup of muesli she's designated for herself to eat.
Rachel watches her for a moment, slightly fascinated by how... much of an open book Quinn is when she's like this. It's such a contrast to what Rachel has seen of her at school. "Reading," Rachel eventually answers.
"What?"
"It's a novel."
Quinn leans forward. "What kind of novel?"
"Have you heard of John Green?"
"Do I live under a rock?"
Rachel smiles. "Well, I'm reading Looking for Alaska," she says. "It's... quite heavy."
Quinn nods. "I had no idea what was coming when I first read it," she says. "It's this unexpected thing, even though there's a relative countdown to it."
Rachel presses her lips together. "I haven't really experienced much... death in my life," she says, which is a confession that surprises her. "I can't really... relate in that sense, but I think my empathy dials are currently at their limits."
Quinn looks a little amused, but her eyes are kind. "You're a little weird, did you know that?"
"I did, actually."
"Eat, Quinn," Judy drops into their conversation, and Quinn grumbles something as she goes for another mouthful.
Quinn exaggerates a chew, and she looks so much like a petulant child that Rachel is suitably charmed. "Not even a pet?" she asks.
Rachel snaps to attention. "Excuse me?"
"We had a dog when Sarah and I were younger," Quinn says. "His name was Flapjack, and we were all so in love, but he got old and he got sick, and..." she trails off. "So, not even a pet?"
"No," Rachel says, choosing not to mention she's never actually had a pet before. Their lives in New York were rushed and busy, and, while Rachel knows things are different now, she doesn't think her mother will agree to it, as much as her brothers beg.
"Well," Quinn says; "then I hope it's nothing you ever have to experience."
It's a surprisingly kind thing for her to say, and Rachel is stumped about a response, so she's actually relieved when Quinn gets up from the table and goes to empty her bowl in the trash.
"What time are you going to be home?" Judy asks her.
"I don't know," Quinn says, packing her bottles of water and carrots into her gym bag. "Why?"
"Your father should be back by this afternoon," Judy says. "Think you can make it home for dinner?"
Quinn visibly hesitates, and then says, "Sure."
"Quinn?"
"It's fine, Mom," she says. "I'll be home by six. Is that okay?"
"Yes."
"Okay, I better get going," she says, moving to kiss Judy's cheek. "I love you."
Judy grabs onto her arm and drags her into a hug that makes them both laugh. "I love you, too, crazy girl."
Quinn just shakes her head as she shoulders her bag. She playfully salutes in Rachel's direction. "Later, Berry," she says; "I guess we're going to need a rain-check on that run, huh?"
Rachel barely has time to respond before she's gone, slamming the front door on her way.
Judy lets out a sigh. "I don't know if it's just me, but I always feel particularly exhausted after Hurricane Quinn has blown through here."
Rachel laughs softly. "I can see what you mean."
"I don't know how I keep up with both my girls."
Frankly, Rachel doesn't know how she does it, either.
Rachel and Judy are in the middle of their avocado toast and poached eggs when Sarah stumbles into the kitchen, looking half asleep. Her hair is a mess and she's rubbing slumber from her right eye. She walks into a counter, and then curses under her breath.
"Sarah," Judy says, and the young blonde snaps to attention. "Good morning, Sweetheart."
Sarah just waves.
"Sleep well?"
She shrugs, which is answer enough. "Quinn gone?"
Judy nods. "There's breakfast for you in the microwave," she says. "We weren't sure what time you'd be up."
"What's the time, anyway?" Sarah asks, shuffling to retrieve her food.
"Just after nine-thirty."
"It's still so early," Sarah whines as she gathers her plate and then goes to sit at the kitchen table with her mother and Rachel. "Hey," she says. "I fell asleep on you."
"You did."
Sarah takes a bite of her toast. "Sorry," she says. "Did Quinn, uh..." she trails off.
"Carry you?" she offers. "Yes."
Sarah ducks her head, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Well, I guess I'm sorry about that, too. It's this...thing she likes to do."
"I think it's sweet," Rachel assures her.
"Yeah, well." She clears her throat. "I hope my mom wasn't boring you too much."
"Hey," Judy says. "We were having a perfectly wonderful conversation about how Rachel is considering becoming a vegan before you showed up with you bedhead and general grumpiness."
Sarah grins at her. "You love me."
Judy bops her nose, a soft smile on her face.
Rachel is already used to the envy she generally feels when she witnesses her friends with their mothers, so this moment isn't anything new. She doesn't have the kind of relationship with Shelby that includes affection like this and she can probably count on one hand the number of hugs they've shared in the past year.
Sarah looks at Rachel. "What time did you say you had to go home again?"
"Noon," she says. "We're having some of my stepdad's colleagues over for an afternoon barbecue."
"That sounds lovely," Judy says.
Rachel winces. "I'm afraid my mother isn't as adept in the kitchen as you, Judy," she says. "So, it could turn out to be more of a disaster than anything. At least Pete can work a grill, so the meat should be fine."
Judy lets out a laugh. "I've got some fixings for some slaw and potato salad, if it's truly dire."
"Oh, no," Rachel quickly says. "I'm sure we'll be fine. We've managed to survive this long without her killing us, so we should be okay."
"If you're sure," Judy says. "I don't mind."
"I'm sure," Rachel says. "Thank you, though."
"Maybe some recipes then," Judy offers. "It can't hurt to have some extra recipes, can it?"
Sarah rolls her eyes. "This is my mom's attempt to be some kind of 1950's Stepford housewife."
Judy flicks her daughter's ear. "Keep at it, and I won't make you any lunch."
"I'll just have yesterday's leftovers," Sarah proudly says.
Judy shakes her head, looking at Rachel. "She won't even attempt to make anything other than Ramen for herself. Utterly useless in the kitchen, this one."
"That's why I have you and Quinn," Sarah says, grinning. "I'm sorted for life."
"What happens when I'm gone?"
Sarah just shoots her an unimpressed look. "You're not going anywhere."
Judy pats her leg under the table. "You're right," she says. "I'm going to be cooking for you when you're married with your own kids."
"As long as you know."