Chapter Seventeen

Quinn wakes to a hand pressed against the side of her neck and a leg caught between both of her own. Said hand is cool, and she shivers as she comes to her senses and fully opens her eyes, only to see a puddle of long, brown hair.

She smiles immediately, and her heart pumps a little faster.

Rachel.

Quinn lifts her free arm - the one Rachel isn't currently crushing - and shifts some hair out of her girlfriend's face. She just wants to see her, and she's entirely too stunning for it to be fair. She's… gorgeous. Almost painfully so, and it practically hurts to look at her.

Rachel shifts slightly, pressing her body tighter to Quinn's, and the blonde bites her bottom lip in an attempt to remain silent. Rachel's leg really shouldn't be where it is, right now.

Well, it should.

Quinn lets out a shaky breath and allows her body to relax. This is okay. She's okay. Rachel is okay, and that's all that matters. Nothing even comes close to the way this feels.

Quinn hasn't really allowed herself to dwell on Tori or how that relationship has defined several aspects of her life. For so long, she was convinced she was in love with the woman, but it never felt like this. There was no bliss or contentment or… ease.

With Tori, it was hidden and a secret and, if she's being honest with herself, dirty. What they had never could have blossomed because it started poorly, and Tori never cared enough to nurture it enough to let it grow. It hurt then, and it sometimes hurts now, but Quinn can accept that some of it was necessary. If she didn't know that, how could she know to appreciate this?

Rachel shifts again, her left hand trailing along Quinn's right side and coming up to cup her breast. If that's not a sign that she's awake, then the soft kisses she places against Quinn's neck definitely are.

"Can I wake up like this, every day?" Rachel murmurs, her voice thick with sleep.

Quinn lets out an amused breath. "I think you and I are going to have to have a little talk about personal space."

Rachel nuzzles Quinn's neck. "I'm sorry, but is that a complaint I'm hearing?"

"You'll get no such thing from here," she says, shifting slightly and pressing a kiss to Rachel's hair. "How did you sleep?"

"Wonderfully," she confesses, her eyes still closed. "Though, it did take me a while to fall asleep."

"Why?"

"I was all excited to spend the evening with you, only to find you'd fallen asleep on me."

Quinn instantly blushes. "I tried to stay up, but you took too long."

Rachel hums, her left hand squeezing Quinn's breast, which forces a whimper from the blonde's lips. She wastes barely a second to roll onto Quinn, her weight pressing down exactly where Quinn wants it.

"Oh, my God," Quinn gasps, her hips canting automatically.

Rachel just chuckles softly as she shifts Quinn's t-shirt out of the way and kisses along her collarbone. She tastes a pleasant mixture of salty and sweet, and she's tempted to spend the day exploring the entirety of Quinn's body with only her mouth. That sounds like a productive use of her time.

But then Quinn is gently pushing on her shoulders, and she lifts her head, looking puzzled. The smile on Quinn's face is the only thing that doesn't bring a disappointed pout to her face.

"I didn't get to give you your birthday present," Quinn says, looking slightly sheepish. "You didn't sneak a look, did you?"

Rachel exaggerates a gasp. "Quinn Fabray. I would never."

Quinn eyes her carefully, trying to decipher if she's telling the truth or not. Satisfied with what she sees, she shuffles a bit, making Rachel squirm, and reaches for the little blue box that's now sitting on the nightstand. It's a bit of an awkward angle, and she has to bend her arm unnaturally because Rachel isn't rolling away.

Quinn huffs as her fingers fail to grasp the little box. "Rachel," she says, her laughter bubbling out of her. "Get off me so I can get your present."

Rachel pouts. "You want me to… get off?"

Quinn groans at the double entendre, and she's tempted to abandon her attempts to retrieve the little box completely. Who in his or her right mind would want Rachel Berry anywhere but on top of them? Seriously?

Making the decision, Quinn lets out a grunt of displeasure, and then abandons her attempt to get the gift. She sucks in a breath, and then immediately rolls them over.

Rachel lets out a shriek in surprise, which is swallowed up by Quinn's soft lips. She doesn't attempt to deepen the kiss because, yes, morning breath, but she does drag her lips along Rachel's jaw and down the column of her throat.

Before her hands start exploring, Quinn pauses to ask, "Are you okay?"

With a quick nod, Rachel tugs her closer, absently lifting one leg over Quinn's hip and drawing her closer. They're pressed together so delightfully that Rachel is unable to hold back her sudden moan of pleasure.

Quinn laughs against her skin. "Baby, do you want to get us caught?"

Rachel's fingers slide into her hair, the soft strands practically a magnet for her roaming digits. "I'm not the one with the insanely talented mouth."

"I'm going to remember you said that."

Rachel's one hand slides under Quinn's t-shirt to explore the skin of her abdomen, and the blonde hisses.

"Jesus, Rach," she says, arching away from her touch. "How the hell do you have cold hands right now?"

Rachel laughs gloriously. "It's because they're not on your body."

"So, it's my fault?"

Rachel shifts beneath her, her nails dragging against soft skin. "Well, I have to blame someone."

Quinn gets tired of not being able to kiss her first, and then skulks off to brush her teeth. Rachel uses the opportunity to sneak into her own bedroom and deal with her own dental hygiene.

It's really such an inconvenience, but she forgets all about that the second she gets back to Quinn's room and immediately gets to taste Quinn's minty fresh mouth. They have only a few days left of being able to do this unabashedly, and she's going to soak up every moment of it as possible.

Quinn pulls away first, slowly retracting her hands from under Rachel's t-shirt. "Now, please will you let me give you your present? I put a lot of thought into it."

Rachel sighs dramatically. "If you must."

Quinn presses a chaste kiss to her lips, and then removes herself from the embrace immediately. She's aware of Rachel's pout as she moves towards the nightstand and finally picks up the little box. "I guess, you know, the good thing about being a Fabray, is the savings account," she says with a slight shrug. "I wanted to spoil you."

"You spoil me enough," Rachel immediately says.

Quinn ignores her. "I also wanted to - " she pauses. "I wanted to be able to look at you and know you're mine."

Rachel tilts her head to the side, carefully regarding the blonde in front on her. "Did you buy this gift knowing you already loved me?"

Quinn seems to think about it. "Maybe," she admits, thoughtful as she approaches Rachel standing in the middle of the carpet of the room. "I've known for a while."

"How long?"

"Subconsciously…" she says, trailing off. "Probably before last summer."

Rachel's mouth drops open. "What?"

Quinn just smiles as she comes to a stop in front of her girlfriend. "It probably started when you showed up at my bedroom door with that horrible yellow flyer," she says. "And it's been growing ever since."

Rachel looks at her in disbelief. "I had no idea."

Quinn's lips press into a thin line. "I'm very good at hiding things."

Rachel reaches out and runs a soothing hand over Quinn's hair. "But you're not doing that anymore, are you?" she murmurs. "Not with me, at least."

"Not with you," she agrees softly. "Never again."

"I love you," Rachel says, serious and truthful.

The words sound heavy to Quinn, but she's not running from them. She's no longer hiding, even if Rachel is the only one who gets to see the true person she's trying to be. "I love you, too," she says, and finally hands over the box.

Rachel's fingers take it from her and, after sending a beaming smile Quinn's way, she opens it to reveal the most perfect necklace she's ever seen. It's white gold, she thinks, with a pendant that takes her breath away.

"Quinn," Rachel breathes. "Is this a - a bee?" she asks, taking in the intricate detail and the embedded diamonds.

With trembling fingers, Quinn removes the necklace from its box. "Can I put it on for you?" she asks softly.

Nodding her head, Rachel spins around and shifts her hair out of the way. She can barely breathe as Quinn manages to clasp the necklace in position, leaving a lingering kiss against the heated skin of her neck.

When Rachel turns back around, the fingers of her right hand are already on the pendant.

"It is a bee," Quinn says. "They're kind of important to me."

"I know," Rachel says. She's noticed that the little buzzing animal is drawn onto many of Quinn's notes and even on the back of her hand sometimes. She's never really asked about it, and she doesn't think Quinn is about to tell her right now.

"Daniel also calls you B," Quinn adds after a moment, blushing.

Rachel's arms snake around Quinn's neck and she draws her into a hug. "I'm yours," she whispers into Quinn's ear. "I'm yours."

Quinn wraps her arms tightly around Rachel's waist. "Happy birthday," she says, as if the words can take away from the severity of this moment.

Rachel just hugs her tighter. "I'm yours, Quinn. I promise I'm yours."

"Hey, Dad."

Hiram looks up from the newspaper he's reading, automatically smiling at his daughter as she moves into his office. "Good morning, Sweetheart," he says from behind his desk. "Did you sleep okay?"

Rachel just about manages to keep the blush off her face as she crosses the room and drops her tired body into one of the armchairs opposite him. She can almost still feel Quinn's hands on her body, her fingers gentle and her skin warm and soft.

It's always a surprise to her whenever they're in that position: Quinn assertive and Rachel submissive, and she's always relieved when she can just lose herself in the feel of her girlfriend without getting caught in a violent flashback.

"Yes," Rachel finally answers. "What about you?"

"Oh, I slept very well," Hiram says. "My bed is far more comfortable than that thing they had me on in the hospital."

"That'll teach you." It's meant to be a lighthearted jab, but it comes out more serious than she initially intends.

Hiram stiffens at her tone. "You're mad at me, aren't you?"

Rachel doesn't immediately respond. She suspects they need to have this conversation, and she's all for it, but she isn't sure she's wants to have it right now.

Really, she would much rather be with Quinn, who she knows is currently in the shower after her extended run. It's a bit of a routine now, with Quinn and Hiram going for a morning walk, and then Quinn continuing with her run… until she's borderline exhausted.

It's still something they need to discuss.

Rachel sighs. "I just wish you wouldn't have such a blasé attitude about your health," she says, almost reluctantly. "You had me so worried, Dad, and I really don't want to walk out of an exam to that kind of news ever again."

Hiram merely nods, unsure what to say. He could make promises six ways to Sunday, but he's sure that's not what Rachel needs from him. He needs to show her that he's going to try.

"You're my Dad," she says. "I need you around, okay? You have to be at my graduation, and at my first Broadway show. You have to walk me down the aisle, and you have to meet your grandchildren. So, I really need you to stick around, okay?"

Hiram raises his eyebrows. "What makes you think you'll be the one walking down the aisle?"

"Dad."

He sighs. "I hear you, Sweetheart," he says. "I hear you, and I promise to try harder."

"Really?" she asks with an arched eyebrow, channelling her girlfriend. "Because I'm pretty sure you've said that to me before."

Hiram ducks his head in slight shame. He has said he would do better, and then he ended up in the hospital. It's not fair to his family, and he really does intend to do something about it. He's already started. "This time is going to be different," he tells her.

"Why?"

He blinks. "I don't know how to answer that," he confesses. "It just is."

There's a severity in his tone that almost makes her believe him. Still, she's reserving judgment for when she actually sees the results. LeRoy's been keeping him on a short leash and, while he complains good-naturedly about his new menu and the morning exercises, he's still doing them.

Rachel supposes they'll just see what happens.

Opting to change the subject, Hiram asks, "How are you and Quinn?"

Rachel's smile automatically blooms across her face, and she doesn't even try to suppress it. She is stupidly in love with a girl who can actually stand her, and she feels great. Their relationship has experienced ups and downs - as most relationships do - but she can't help feeling that they're in a good place.

For however long that's going to last.

"We're good," Rachel says, meeting her father's gaze. "We're great, actually. Better than great."

Hiram regards her carefully. "Really?"

Rachel's smile dims. "Yes," she says. "Why?"

Hiram looks away from her for a moment. "I don't know," he says quietly. "I was… surprised by your relationship."

"I was, too," Rachel admits, trying to give her father the benefit of the doubt. "I was so certain she was going to shoot me down the moment I even mentioned my feelings."

"Because you thought she wasn't gay?"

Rachel presses her lips together. She doesn't really feel all that comfortable discussing Quinn's sexuality with anyone. "I think so," she eventually says. "It's either that, or she just wouldn't like me."

"But you're very likeable," Hiram immediately says, ever the biased father.

Rachel lets out an amused breath. "Apparently," she agrees with a slight shrug. "Quinn says she had her troubles staying away from me."

Hiram merely nods, his view of Quinn changing slightly. He thought he knew, but he actually knew nothing. The entire time he was trying to warn her to be gentle with his daughter, she already knew how she felt about Rachel. He's almost mad at her for not shutting him up before he made a fool of himself, but he understands why she wouldn't have said anything. He probably would have done the same.

Of course, Hiram has spoken to Quinn about some of this on their walks, but the girl is notoriously tight-lipped. She gives very little away, which makes it difficult to get a read on her.

Her eyes, however, tend to give away what the rest of her body tries so desperately to hide, and he's coming to realise that there is so much about Quinn Fabray she will never let him or anyone know.

She is an island nation, overgrown with darkness and surrounded by an ocean of hurt.

"I'm in love with her," Rachel says. "I'm so deeply in love with her; I barely know what to do with myself." She relaxes into the armchair, her body almost boneless. "She just makes me so happy, Dad. Like, the kind of happy that's barely containable. It almost wants to bubble out of me, and I'm having such a hard time trying to hide it."

"I can only imagine," Hiram says thoughtfully. His daughter always was rather open with her affection, never really one to shy away from showing the people she cares about just what they mean to her. It was part of her personality, so friendly and giving of her time and her smiles.

And then Justin Prescott took that from her in the ugliest way.

Rachel lost her… sparkle.

Or, it dampened under the scrutiny and prejudice and downright hurtful and moronic justifications of violence.

The assault robbed Rachel Berry of something, which really robbed the world of something.

Hiram can't say he was surprised when Rachel asked to move schools. He and LeRoy were already discussing it beforehand. Really, he thought she would want to go back to New York to get away from it all, but then she pulled up the website for Dalton Academy, and that was that.

Her start at the school was quiet. Hiram could tell she was determined to stay under the radar, choosing not to draw any unnecessary or unwanted attention to herself as she acclimated to her new surroundings. Hiram spent weeks being overly paranoid about having her out of his sight, and he constantly kept his phone on hand in case she needed him.

Then, something changed.

One day, she decided to run for Head Student, and his baby girl slowly but surely began to return to them. It was when she started talking about her opponent, one Quinn Fabray, that Hiram really started to think that the Rachel he was worried he lost was probably coming back to them.

It was in her voice, even when she was complaining about Quinn's attempts to usurp her voters, and Hiram thinks he knew before she did that she like liked the blonde girl.

It's obvious to Hiram that Quinn Fabray has been making his daughter happy for a very long time. It's a scary thing for him, and he tries not to think too much about the fact that he wasn't the one able to do that for her.

She's his daughter, and it's his responsibility to keep her happy.

It was a bitter pill to swallow when he realised Quinn took up that mantle but, looking at his daughter now, he's so relieved. The girl sitting across from him is Rachel Berry, a girl who's lost some of the fear and trepidation.

She's a girl in love.

"Have you spoken to Shelby?"

Rachel almost smiles at the way her father refers to her mother. He never calls her Rachel's mother, and Rachel finds it almost amusing that he's even attempted to try to create some kind of divide - even unconsciously.

Almost.

"I did," Rachel says. "She wants me to fly out on Thursday; latest Friday."

Hiram regards her carefully, picking up on something very particular in her tone of voice. "What do you want, Sweetheart?"

If Rachel were to be truthful, she probably wouldn't go to New York at all. She has half a mind to ask her mother to fly out here instead, just so she can be near her father for the rest of the Break.

And Quinn.

Who, technically, isn't expected in Hartford until New Year's Eve. She really just wants a few more days with her family… and her girlfriend.

More her girlfriend, if she's being honest.

"I want to spend Christmas here," she says. "I was thinking that maybe Quinn and I could leave together on Monday or Tuesday." Possibly even Wednesday, if she pushes it.

Hiram looks thoughtful. "Quinn's not spending the holidays with her family?"

"No, she's not."

Hiram wants to ask something more, but he holds his tongue. He realises there are things neither girl will tell him, and he's going to have to pick his battles wisely.

This is not one of them.

"Would you like me to speak with Shelby?" Hiram asks.

Rachel internally grimaces, just knowing that conversation won't go well. "No, I think it's better if it comes from me," she says; "but thank you for offering."

"I would just make it worse, wouldn't I?"

"You may be a lawyer, Dad, but you've never really been good with your words when it comes to Mom."

He nods in agreement, memories of times when Shelby managed to cut him down with an icy glare and a perfect, well-delivered one-liner flashing through his ageing mind.

Rachel bites her bottom lip, visibly contemplating her next question. Eventually, she decides to go for it because she wants to know, even though Quinn doesn't like to talk about it.

"Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"You are technically still a lawyer, right?"

His brow furrows. "Technically, yes," he says. "You know I don't practice anymore."

"But, you would if I needed you, right?"

"Of course." Then: "What's this all about, Rachel? Are you in some kind of trouble?"

Rachel lets out a laugh. "Dad, be serious," she says. "I'm not in trouble."

"But…?"

She clears her throat. "What kind of rights does a child have?"

Of all the things he was convinced she would ask, that definitely isn't it. "What?"

She huffs in mild annoyance. "Dad," she says. "Tell me, how much control do parents realistically have over their minor children?"

To his credit, it takes Hiram only a moment more to figure out they're talking about Quinn without actually talking about her. "Well, that depends, Sweetheart," he finally says.

"On what?"

"On any number of factors."

Rachel recognises that her father is being deliberately vague. "I just want to know what they could possibly do to her if they find out she's gay?" she asks, abandoning all pretence. "She's - she's terrified of them and what they would do, so I want us to be ready, in case they learn the truth before she gets the chance to turn eighteen."

Hiram can hear the worry in his daughter's voice, and it forces him to stop and pay attention. If Rachel is concerned, then he knows she must have a strong reason to be. He's seen what looks like darkness and shadows in Quinn's eyes, and he wonders if they've even scratched the surface.

"I'll look into it," he finally says.

She nods her thanks. Then: "Please don't tell Quinn," Rachel says.

He isn't planning to.

Rachel does discuss the change in plans with Quinn, which the blonde immediately agrees to, and then makes her own travel arrangements. As far as her parents are concerned, she's at a friend's home until the New Year's party. They don't really care beyond that, and Quinn doesn't mind all that much.

Quinn just plans on soaking up as much time with Rachel and her family as possible. Anything beats the empty house in Hartford, at this point. While Martha is nice enough, Quinn can never quite stop herself from thinking about Tori in the house.

It isn't as if Quinn misses her per se; it's more that she misses her friend, and there are far too many reminders in all the rooms to be anything but depressing.

Quinn briefly entertains the idea of taking Rachel to Hartford with her and making new memories, but that's just silly.

And stupid.

So very stupid.

And, Quinn Fabray is anything but stupid.

When she finally arrives, Kelsey barely gets a chance to set her bags down - it's just one bag, really, because Daniel is lugging in the other, much larger, one - before Levi is dragging her into the living room where Quinn, Rachel, Declan, Julian, Eric and LeRoy are sitting watching a Christmas movie.

"She's here," Levi declares. "Quinn, come on."

The blonde startles at the sound of her name, and looks at Levi with confused, curious eyes. "Uh, where are we going?"

Levi rolls his eyes. "Kelsey is here," he says.

"I can see that," Quinn says. "Hi, Kelsey."

"Hi, Quinn," Kelsey says, waving a hand at the lot of them. "Hi, everyone else." She looks at Levi. "Do you want to tell me what's got you so excited, because it's obviously not the arrival of your girlfriend?"

Levi just laughs, gently kissing her cheek. "I missed you," he whispers, and then pulls back. "But you have to see Quinn's drawings."

Kelsey turns to Quinn, whose eyes have widened. "Drawings?"

"She draws," LeRoy offers. "Really well." He looks at Rachel. "I think you're going to have to get your friend moving there," he says, gesturing with his hand at the stock-still girl who's now sitting beside Rachel.

Rachel just nods, an amused smile on her face. "Right," she says, getting to her feet, and then immediately pulling Quinn to hers. She looks at Levi. "Meet you in the dining room?"

"Sure."

If Rachel weren't so worried about Quinn, she might find it slightly comical the way the blonde seems to be frozen in place. Rachel actually has to guide her up the stairs, and then physically search Quinn's things herself for Quinn's sketchbooks.

It's when they're leaving the room that Quinn even speaks. It's just one word, and it stops Rachel in her tracks.

"Don't."

Rachel pauses, and turns to face her. "Don't what?"

Quinn's jaw tenses, and then she reaches for one of the sketchbooks in Rachel's hands. "Not this one," she says. "Not this one."

Rachel is so tempted to ask, but she bites the inside of her cheek to stop herself. "Okay," she says. "Not that one. And the rest?"

"They're okay," Quinn says, nodding once. She points at a red one. "That one is mostly of you, so…" she trails off.

"Maybe we should leave it up here then?"

Quinn just nods again.

Rachel steps towards her and slips her free arm around Quinn's waist to pull her into a hug. "I love you," she whispers. "You know that, right?"

Quinn smiles at her. "You're just saying that to soften the blow when Kelsey says I'm talentless."

Rachel shakes her head, and then reaches up to kiss her cheek. "You're not talentless," she says. "Believe me, I know what you can do with that mouth of yours."

Quinn laughs out loud. "So, if all else fails, I can be a, what? What job could I get with a talented mouth?"

Rachel starts to respond, but Quinn interjects.

"That is relatively PG."

Rachel huffs. "You're no fun."

Quinn steals a kiss from her pouting lips. "Come on," she says. "Levi and Kelsey are waiting."

Neither of them makes a move to leave.

Quinn sighs, a small smile on her face. "I'm starting to wonder what I've ever done without you," she murmurs. "How did I ever get anything done?"

Rachel giggles softly, kissing her cheek again. "You love me."

"I do," she says on an exhale. "I really, really do."

"Can I buy this one?"

Quinn frowns down at the sketch Jared is pointing at. She's still a bit uneasy around him, but he hasn't done anything untoward this trip, and he hasn't even looked at her with distaste (that she's seen, at least.)

The sketch, itself, isn't that great, but he seems to like it. It's one she drew while she was waiting to board the train to come to Wallingford, and her nerves manifested in a pretty neat picture of what was her view of the many trains on the tracks.

She clears her throat. "They're not actually for sale," she says about the various sketches she and Kelsey have spread out on the dining room table. Kelsey's helping her put together a portfolio - though, Quinn still doesn't know if she'll do anything with it. "But, if you want it, you're welcome to have it."

Jared steps a little closer, inspecting the sketch. "I like the detail on the tracks," he says, reaching for the piece of paper and lifting it up. "Usually, one would relegate the tracks as something unimportant, but people forget that it's the tracks that even allow the trains to move. Guiding them. Keeping them on track, for lack of a better term."

Quinn feels the hairs on her arms stand on end. "I try to pay attention to everything," she says.

"It seems you do."

Quinn isn't quite sure what exactly is happening, but she's aware enough to know this conversation is something else entirely, and her heart is beating double-time because of it.

Jared meets her gaze. "I can really have it?"

"Of course," she says.

He smiles and, for a second, he looks startlingly like LeRoy. "You really are very talented, Quinn," he says.

She swallows nervously. "Thank you."

"I see you going very far, Miss Fabray," he says, and then turns around and walks out of the room.

For the longest time, Quinn can't bring herself to move. Her heart is thumping in her chest, and she feels the first prickling of fear creep up her spine. He can't know. There's no way he knows. She and Rachel have been careful, and it isn't as if Jared has been around the house all that much. He's just -

Quinn is startled out of her thoughts by the arrival of Rachel and Kelsey, both of them giggling about something or the other.

Rachel sobers slightly at the look on Quinn's face, and she immediately moves towards her. "Everything okay?" she asks, her voice dropping to a whisper.

Quinn blinks a few times, and then she nods. "Fine," she forces out. "Just had a weird moment there."

"Where did you go?"

Quinn links their pinkies between their bodies, hidden from view. "Wherever you are."

"So swoon-worthy, Fabray."

Quinn grins at her, fully recovering from her… moment with Jared. "I try."

Now that they're being completely honest with each other, Quinn knows she's going to have to discuss her little run-in with Jackson Prescott.

She hates that she even remembers his name. And his face. It's unlikely she'll ever forget, but she's trying not to think about the man, because that just fills her with rage and disgust. She has enough of her own anger to deal with, without adding on Rachel's.

"Are you ever going to eat that?" Rachel suddenly asks, breaking into Quinn's haze.

"What?"

Rachel regards her carefully. "You haven't even touched your breakfast, Quinn," she points out. "Are you okay?"

"I just have a bit on my mind."

"Oh?"

Quinn straightens her spine and clears her throat. "Do you think we could take a walk after this?"

Rachel eyes her warily. "Sure."

"It's nothing bad," she tries to reassure her. "I'm in this. You know that, right?"

"I know."

Quinn meets her gaze. "I'm in love with you, Rachel."

The brunette blushes under Quinn's intensity, and she smiles. "I don't think there will be a day when I'll tire of hearing you say that."

"It's doubtful I'll tire of saying it, either."

They're still staring at each other when Julian and Declan enter the kitchen, naughty grins on their faces.

Rachel rolls her eyes at the sight of them. "Okay," she says; "what have you two done?"

"Nothing," Declan quickly says.

A little too quickly, if you ask Rachel.

She levels them with a glare, and the boys visibly squirm under her scrutiny. "Save us all the trouble, and just spill it," she says. "We both know you're going to."

Declan looks between the two girls for a moment, before he steps towards Rachel and whispers, loud enough for them all to hear. "Is Quinn your girlfriend?"

Rachel's surprised gasp is drowned out by Quinn's spoon clattering into her cereal bowl. Both boys look at Quinn, and it takes everything Rachel has not to look, but she knows she can't. She wouldn't be doing them any favours because, honestly, she's unsure of her reaction if she were to see Quinn's face in this moment.

Rachel clears her throat, and the boys turn back to her. "What makes you ask that?" she asks, surprised by how steady her voice sounds, when she's internally freaking out.

Declan looks confused for a moment. "Because you're always together," he says. "And you're always holding hands or looking at each other." He smiles widely. "Julian says you make googly eyes," he adds with a giggle.

Rachel takes a moment to digest his words, and then she plasters on a smile. "Quinn is my best friend, Declan," she says. "She's very special to me."

He frowns. "So, she's not your girlfriend?"

Rachel swallows audibly as she determinedly refuses to look at Quinn. "She's my best friend," she says again, not wanting to deny explicitly what is true in life and in her heart.

"Oh," Declan says. "Well, that's still cool, I guess."

"Yip," she says. "I'd really appreciate it if you didn't go telling people other things."

He nods his head vigorously. "Uh huh."

She pulls him in for a hug that lasts a beat too long, and he squirms to get out of her grasp. "Rachel," he complains.

"Sorry," she murmurs.

He just laughs, and then takes off.

Julian lingers for a moment, and then he follows after his brother. Rachel just watches the space they vacated for several beats of her still-racing heart, and then finally turns to look at Quinn.

The blonde looks lost in thought, completely elsewhere.

"Quinn?"

She snaps to attention, frowning, and then smiling slightly. "So, that walk?" she asks, quickly rising to her feet and moving to deposit her bowl in the dishwasher after rinsing it out.

Rachel isn't sure what to make of this moment. Shouldn't they talk about Declan's assumption?

"Ready to go?"

Rachel looks at Quinn, who looks entirely too calm, and Rachel just knows no good can come of this.

"I have to tell you something," Quinn says, her heart beating a little faster. She isn't sure how to get what she needs to say out, and the look on Rachel's face really isn't helping.

It's taken them all day to get around to their walk because Kelsey and Levi caught them on their way out this morning, and it's been a busy day of selecting drawings, trying not to give their relationship away and cooking prep for the upcoming Holt-Berry Christmas dinner.

"It's about what happened at the cafe," Quinn explains

Rachel frowns, trying to follow, even as she tries not to trip over the small stones on the ground. "The cafe? What cafe?"

"The day I arrived," she explains, somewhat reluctantly. "At the train station."

Rachel's frown gives way to understanding, and she feels something heavy settle in her stomach. "Are we talking about Jackson Prescott?"

Quinn nods.

"What about him?" she asks, slightly more wary. Why isn't she bringing up the whole Declan thinking their dating thing? What is this?

"He kind of spoke to me," she says. "While you were getting the car."

"Oh." She's unsure what exactly she's supposed to feel in this moment. "Uh, what did he say?"

Quinn stops walking and begins to recall the entirety of the one-sided conversation to her, word-for-word, as she remembers it. It's almost clinical in a way, as if she's dissociated, and the lack of emotion is something on which Rachel picks up, and her already-roiling emotions force her to ask a very, very dangerous question.

"You believed him, didn't you?"

And, Quinn makes the grave mistake of hesitating.

She's just so taken aback by how preposterous the idea is that it catches her off guard, but the brunette reads the gap in response as something else.

"Oh, my God," Rachel practically gasps, covering her mouth with her hand. "You actually believe him."

Quinn shakes herself, coming back to her senses. "What?" she almost shouts in indignation. "No, no I don't! Jesus, Rachel."

Rachel shakes her head, refusing to believe it. "But you hesitated, Quinn," she accuses. "Why would you do that if you don't believe him?"

Quinn doesn't even know what to say to that. How can Rachel even think that? What has Quinn done to make her think anything like that at all?

"You think I invited him onto me, don't you?" Rachel practically screeches. "God, you think I'm such a tart, don't you?"

Quinn grits her teeth, forcing herself to stay calm. "I did not say that," she says. "I do not think that at all."

She's too late, or Rachel is too blinded by her own rage to hear Quinn's words, because the brunette all but blows up in Quinn's face.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she shouts, and Quinn flinches. "What sort of person thinks I would ask for that?"

"Rachel?" Quinn pleads, suddenly deflating. How is she supposed to explain herself when it doesn't seem that Rachel is even listening to her? "Please."

"No!" she snaps. "You have no right! You know nothing about what I went through! You can pretend to understand all you want, but you've never known fear like that."

It's entirely the wrong thing to say because Quinn's entire demeanour changes. It shifts from hesitant and apologetic to something hard and… spiteful.

It's so sudden, Rachel barely catches it before Quinn is speaking again.

"Well, obviously not," Quinn says, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Forgive us all for not having suffered the same trauma as you, Miss Berry." Her eyes narrow. "Do not presume to think I do not understand fear."

And Rachel, well, she doesn't back down. They have always enjoyed the challenge, even though nothing about this is remotely 'enjoyable.'

It escalates quickly.

In fact, it turns decidedly ugly far too quickly, and it's almost as if Quinn plans it.

Guides it.

Wants it.

"What?" Quinn spits out. "Is this the moment you actually confess that you actually consented to the really bad sex and then didn't want your parents to find out, so you faked the whole thing?"

Of all the things Rachel is expecting to hear, that definitely isn't it. She just stares blankly at Quinn, her mouth hanging slightly open. The girl in front of her is someone she doesn't recognise.

Who is she?

Where has her Quinn gone?

"How can you even ask that?" Rachel asks in a small voice.

Quinn's own anger and insecurities are spinning out of control and, while she can see the look of utter devastation on Rachel's face, she can't seem to register it.

"We both know you can take care of yourself," Quinn says, and there's such darkness in her voice. Her own defences are raised so high; she barely acknowledges the words leaving her mouth. "Tell me, what would have happened to those boys if I hadn't showed up at the Halloween Dance?"

Rachel glares at her. "Oh, I don't know, Quinn," she says, equally as harsh and… sardonic. "I might have tripped and fallen down the stairs like a scared little girl."

The sarcasm fills the empty space between them, and Rachel sees a flicker of something in Quinn's eyes. It's just there for a moment, something that looks like pure, unadulterated fear, but it's gone just as quickly.

"Of course," Quinn says, recovering. "Even then, you were so eager to get them all expelled for nothing," she says with a roll of her eyes. "So hell bent on ruining their lives too, huh?"

In a move that surprises them both, Rachel, unthinkingly, raises her hand and slaps Quinn.

She actually slaps her.

The shock of it is almost too much to bear, and Rachel can barely look at the surprise on Quinn's face.

"You don't get to say things like that," Rachel says, keeping her eyes on Quinn's neck. "I told you what happened with that miserable excuse of a human being. I told you. I know you don't mean any of this, but it still hurts. It fucking hurts, Quinn. So, you don't get to stand there and make it worse.

"I relive that day all the time. I can barely go into town most days, and I have all these flashbacks and nightmares, and I hate that you could even entertain the idea that I'm the one who ruined his life. That - that man raped me! He held a knife between my legs and told me he would kill me if I didn't do what he said.

"I have no idea what could possess you to think I would make up something like that. That hurts more than anything, and I honestly don't know what more to say to you right now!" She's crying uncontrollably now. Her tears are falling down her cheeks, but Quinn does nothing.

And then, the blonde steps back, retreating.

Rachel sees it happening, and she suddenly knows exactly what Quinn has done.

"Why did we ever think this would work?" Quinn asks, her voice flat, almost a monotone. "We're both too fucking messed up for this."

Rachel wipes at her eyes. "Don't you dare," she says strongly. "You don't get to say that either. You don't get to say anything, right now. We're fine."

"Like hell we're fine," she snaps. "You slapped me."

"You deserved it."

Again, it's entirely the wrong thing to say, because Quinn's face falls completely. The emotion drains away entirely, and the blank look she portrays is enough to make Rachel's hairs stand on end. "I deserved it," Quinn echoes, almost mechanically. "Of course, I did. Because I did something bad."

Rachel just stares at her. "Quinn?"

Quinn shakes her head. "You're right," she says. "I deserved it. I'm sorry."

"Quinn?"

The blonde steps back again, almost stumbling over a rock. Her eyes glance at the hand Rachel used to slap her, and there's another flicker in her eyes.

"Quinn?"

"I have to go," she says. "I - I have to go."

"No," Rachel says, closing the space between them. "What's happening right now? What is this?"

Quinn doesn't respond. She just steps away again, needing to keep substantial space between them.

"Don't do this," Rachel says, almost pleadingly. "I know you're doing this on purpose, even if you don't even realise it. Quinn, just stop. Stop pulling away." She huffs out a breath, quietly berating herself for not seeing the signs sooner. "Stop trying to push me away."

Quinn frowns. "That's not what I'm doing."

"It is," Rachel argues. "You've just come to realise how serious this relationship is, and Declan scared you - he scared you - so you're coming up with all these awful, hurtful ways to force us apart because you neither desire to want or need anyone."

"That's not it," Quinn says, adamant.

"Then, what is it?"

Quinn is silent for a moment and, when she does finally speak, Rachel wishes with all her might that neither of them even bothered to open their mouths at all today.

"I'm the one who doesn't want to ruin your life," she says slowly, and then steps back again. "It's all I seem to be capable of doing." Eventually, she turns around and walks away. Back towards the house or out into the fields, Rachel doesn't even know.

All she can do is stand there and wonder how it is they lost that blissful feeling so quickly.