A/N: I have decided to place some headings in the chapter to help those of you that might want or need to come back to find your place again. This way you might have an easier time of finding the place you had left off. If you remember the heading in which you had been reading under, you can just scan down until you find that section, then find the place you had left off reading. As I know my chapters can be a bit long for some of you to have the time to read in one go and I don't want this to be a problem for those that need to stop reading and come back later. I am also trying to trim down my chapters to a more manageable reading level, but I know they can still be a bit long for some, hence the headings. I do hope this helps.

Summary: "Mama, have you ever wondered what it would be like to go back to my age with all the knowledge you know now in your life?" A question asked by her daughter, on her sixteenth birthday, seems to have triggered it to actually happen. Or has it? Quinn hasn't the faintest idea. All Quinn knew was that she was no longer in her own bed in New York, where she had gone to bed the night before, and now she is suddenly up chucking for no reason at all! Quinn hasn't the time to figure out if the situation she finds herself in is real or not, let alone how or why it is happening, she is just too busy trying to stay one step ahead so she isn't overwhelmed by her past that is now her future!

Warnings: Please be aware there are going to be quite a bit of reference to child abuse as well as domestic abuse: emotional, physical and mental. Suicide and self harm will be apart of this story as well. There will also be references to miscarriages and violence induced miscarriages. There will be homophobia and sexual harassment as well as various kinds of bullying. While I don't really think there is an abundant amount in this story, profanity and vulgar language is certainly going to be found here as well.

Please be aware that I do not pay attention to where these potential triggering points might be in the story, so I will rarely post another warning about them in the future, so please take this warning seriously if you have any triggers of the above, please read through this story with care or this might be a story to skip. Your mental health is important so please take care of yourself first.

Background: Please note that I am playing with time in this story, so inherently things will be different. On top of that MY season three and four is not canon and should be disregarded as a whole. As anyone that has read my work would know, I only write AUs, so please do not expect anything close to pure canon.

Disclaimer: Glee and any and all products, businesses or brands used or spoken about in this story are not mine. I own not even one piece of them in stocks, and I am not profiting from this story in any way shape or form. This is written purely for my own entertainment, and decided to let you all join in on the fun.

So please enjoy the story! ~


"With Wisdom and Knowledge…"

Chapter 2

"What would you do differently, Mama?"

by: Jaely

Heading to School

Thankfully, I am once again, heading back out to my car and soon on my way to school. I have to roll my eyes at that thought, because the very thought of dealing with teenagers, as a teenager again, is highly disconcerting. Luckily the school isn't very far from my parent's house and I'm there within seven minutes or so. I'm also glad I have the perk of being able to drive, even though I've not turned sixteen yet. One of the many perks to being Head-Cheerio. Not sure how long that is going to last, but for now it's useful and my birthday is in a couple of weeks, so it's not so bad.

I start to wonder, as I rush up the steps to get into the school, if maybe Rachel had ended up back in the past too and was just not able to contact me this morning. I can't help the excitement at that possibility, because if that is the case then at least I will have her here with me. We will have to wait nearly fourteen years until the technology is available so we can have Naomi again, but at least we can have each other, and hopefully this little one as well. I think about the life growing in my womb at the moment. Something I had ardently kept myself from thinking about the first time around, but now have no problem considering into my future plans now.

I ignore the people calling out my name in greeting, completely rushed to find Rachel as quickly as possible. I know she was always in the auditorium or the choir room at this time of the day, and if my phone is anything to go by, there's still ten minutes before the five minute bell rang. The auditorium comes up first, but that's a bust. If Rachel had been there, she would be up on the stage working on her scales right now. Rachel was a stickler for her routines and even after knowing the smaller woman for nearly most of our lives in our original timeline, she still kept the same routine she had for most of her life; even if the times they happened would alter over time. The order of her routine never varied after Rachel had woken up, unless something forced her to change it or just interrupted, so I know the routine like the back of my hand. I just had to find where she was practicing right now.

I move on to the choir room, on my way there, I start to notice people looking at me oddly as I pass. They still quickly jump out of the way as I come near them, but I note that they are looking at me as though something was off. I can't figure out what is going on off the top of my head, and I have to admit that I do care enough to stop and try to figure out what teenagers are finding odd, so just like the people calling out for me, I ignore it. I smile with relief as I see the shut door of the choir room come into sight. It's a good thing certain rooms in this school seemed to just be ingrained in my brain, as to where they're at, so I didn't get lost in my mad dash to get here in time

I stop at the door for a moment, listening for the beautiful sounds of Rachel's voice. I smile gently when I'm able to pick up the soft notes of Rachel working on her pianissimo. Taking a slow deep breath, I slowly open the door quietly and slip my way in and close the door behind me. My eyes never leave Rachel once they land on her at the piano and I just smile at the familare sight. She looks so much younger than she did just yesterday to me and her hideous clothing brings it all back to me. The door clicking shut behind me makes us both flinch at the sound. Which brings Rachel's eyes quickly around to land on me. I watch her closely for any clue as to if she is my Rachel from the future or if she is the Rachel that belongs here in the past.

Talking to Rachel Berry:

"Quinn!" She yelps out, her hand going to her chest, as I'm sure her heart is racing at the surprise. She goes to open her mouth to speak again, when she cocks her head to the side, as she normally does when she is confused about something. "Umm Quinn, not that I'm trying to question you or that you can't do whatever it is you want to do, but normally you have your hair up when you are wearing your Cheerios uniform and well... It's... not." She stutters to a stop, when my eyes widen and rake my fingers through my hair, just as she tells me that it's still down.

"Fuck." I whisper and start to walk over towards her. "At least I remembered to put in my contacts this morning." I grumble as I plunk my bookbag down on the empty piano bench.

"Quinn there is no need to use that kind of langu— You wear contacts?" I chuckle softly at first, at Rachel's little mini rant – as I find a hair tie in my bookbag – and go about putting my hair in the Cheerios' typical high pony. I find indignant Rachel fun to tease normally, but right now, the fact that Rachel clearly didn't know I wear contacts, lets me know she is not my Rachel. That she hadn't come back to the past with me, like I had hoped. Which makes me more upset than I thought I would be and I have to fight the urge to cry. Fuck, this is going to be so much harder than I thought it would be. As I secure my hair in it's traditional high pony, I can feel Rachel step closer to me, just as I sniffle a little and the action makes a small smile slip over my lips.

Just out of the corner of my eye, I can see Rachel tentatively reaching out to place her hand on my arm, as she once again steps even closer to me. I can tell she's nervous about what I'm going to do in response to her coming into my personal space, but her compassion won't let her turn away from me when I am obviously upset about something. I have to admit if I wasn't who I am now and I was still 'high school Quinn', from before, I surely would have snap at her for even thinking she could touch me – as she is currently doing ‒ but now... my eyes just close as I soak up the comfort her soft hand on my forearm gives me. My head and shoulders finally just fall forward so I'm leaning heavily into the side of the piano, using my forearms as support, tears now dropping to the floor as my head hangs down. Damn my hormones for taking over when I don't have time to let them. I really need to talk to Rachel, but the only thing my body wants to do right now is cry.

A sob rips from my throat and I shake, as the pent up emotions from finding myself back in the past and back at my parents' house – a place that holds so many horrible memories – comes rushing out. "Oh Quinn." Rachel says softly, her voice filled with genuine compassion as she steps fully into my personal space, saying softly; "I'm going to hug you now, alright?" before my arm is pulled off the piano and she is wrapping her arms tightly around my waist. As she positioned herself between me and the piano I was leaning on, I just snorted a little laugh that was covered by another sob, while I wrapped my arms around her neck and shoulders. I buried my hand into Rachel's mahogany locks, as I pulled her closer to me. To which Rachel responds by cooing softly, while she rubs my back soothingly, telling me that it will be alright, no matter what it is and that she would be here for me if I wanted her to be.

I can only sob out a blubbering apology, for everything I've ever done to her, because I've hurt her so badly and most of the things I've done in my past she hadn't even experienced. Even if, at this point, I've not done all the things that had happened in my past to Rachel; I've done more than enough at this point in time for this amazing girl to never want to have anything to do with me again. Though of course, just like when Rachel had barged into that bathroom at Puck's Holiday party, that fateful night ‒ in our freshmen year of college ‒ Rachel's compassion wins the day. That night Rachel saved my life and forgave me all at the same time, now she is once again forgiving me, while I cry into her shoulder. At least this time I'm not knocking on death's door. For which I say is an improvement.

Beginning Again and Walking to Class:

The bell ringing surprises us both and I can't help the little giggle when she jumps in my arms. She pulls back and I can see that she has tears in her eyes, from the pain she felt, for the pain I have been expressing. I gently cup her cheek and wipe an errant tear away with my thumb. I can feel her light hold on my hip tighten at the move, but I ignore it in favor of being able to touch her again. "Thank you." I say softly as I look her in the eyes, so she knows I'm serious and that I am thankful to her for forgiving me. She looks away, a blush surging up to infuse her cheeks with a light pink tinge, that I find adorable to look at. Rachel Berry has always been and always will be a beautiful woman. I can't wait to be able to convince her of that soon. For now though, we need to get to class.

"Do you mind if I walk with you to class, Rachel?" I ask softly, letting my hand slowly drop from her cheek to caress down her arm and link our hands together in a loose hold. My other hand, busy carefully wiping away my own tears. I'm glad I didn't bother putting on makeup today. I had a feeling I would just end up wiping most of it away if I had. It was something I had learned in the second month of my pregnancy with Naomi. I didn't wear make-up much at all when I first moved to New York with Rachel, I had started to wear it again when I got back into living my life around the end of my sophomore year of college. Though, it wasn't something I felt I 'had' to wear like it was when I was in high school and originally pregnant with Beth.

"O-of course, Quinn! I would love for you to accompany me to our shared class, if that is what you want to do, that is..." Rachel trails off when I lightly squeeze her hand still in mine and give her a soft smile. I've not spent twenty-five years of my life with this woman and not learned how to stem the flow of words when she gets nervous.

"Did you just use my name?" I smile widely and nod at her nervous little squeak. When Rachel suddenly frowns in a confused yet surprised way she gets when something pleasantly surprising has just occurred to her, but she wasn't sure she was correct yet, as she asks about me using her name. High school Quinn never really said Rachel's name until maybe our junior year and then only in exasperation or derision. Though I had not thought about it when I used her name, as I normally use her name or a loving pet name at this point in our lives together, I do hope that by using her name, she will get used to me being nice to her and that will show her I want to actually be around her. I already miss being able to just come up and hug and kiss her whenever I want to.

When Rachel blushes beautifully, then lets go of my hand so she can go grab her bag ‒ that's sitting on a nearby chair ‒ I find myself wanting to just grab her hand again, as we move to head out the door and into the hall; but I don't. It's not that I'm afraid to show her affection out in public. Unfortunately, right now, I'm currently still attached to Finn. Plus I still need to tell her that I'm pregnant. Not to mention I don't want to freak her out by making a play for her out of the blue.

Though when we had started to date – back in college – she had told me that had I shown her the real Quinn Fabray, when we were in high school, she would have fallen for me in a heartbeat. Which does settle my nerves some, as I do believe my Rachel when she told me that, as we were not in the habit of lying to each other by that point. It really seemed pointless and only caused more problems than they were worth. So that is what I'm going to do now. I'm going to be me and woo Rachel Berry. Though this time, I'm going to do it long before Finn can get his hooks into her. If there is one thing I know very well it's Rachel Berry and her personality quirks.

I had made it my life long goal to study Rachel Berry, as I wanted to make sure I could love her to the best of my ability. Something she found romantic and charming. I'm not sure if using all of my knowledge to woo her in the past would be considered cheating or not, but my Rachel would know that I don't like to lose and I am at the heart of things still a rather selfish individual. I feel that Rachel would do the same in my position, only she would have had a much steeper road to climb to get my younger self to see her the possibilities of loving her could hold for me, the way I really would have wanted to. Though for now I push all of that out of my mind and just join her as we walk out of the choir room together, instead focusing my attention on her.

On our way to class I ask her about what song she plans to sing in Glee today, along with other safe topics, in order to keep conversation going between us. I ignore the people I see looking at us strangely, as Rachel animatedly tells me about some play that her fathers took her to go see in Columbus, over the weekend. I laugh at her retelling of a woman who fell asleep on the shoulder of the stranger next to her and the man's attempts to either wake her without being rude or get her to lean off of him. Rachel was beaming at me happily as we entered our first class. I look around quickly to figure out which class we are in, which doesn't take long as there are maps and historical quote posters all over the room, so it has to be our history class. When I turn back to look at Rachel I find that she is already settling herself into her seat.

I make my way over to her and take the empty seat next to her. That way we'll be sharing the same table. I can tell she is surprised, when she looks at me, as I get my book and notepad out of my bag. I smirk at her and give her a wink before I lean back down and grab my planner to check what homework I need to be turning in for this class. I'm hoping that by not making a big deal about sitting with her, she will come to see that I'm not going to bully her anymore and that I do in fact enjoy being around her.

Out of the corner of my eye I can see her smiling prettily, glancing at me, though she is trying to do so subtly. It always amazes me that Rachel lacks nearly any skill at subtly, unless she is acting. Even after knowing her for over thirty years this fact still baffles me. It's the same thing with lying, she sucks at it, unless she is acting, then she is fucking brilliant. I have to work really hard not to laugh at her attempts to be subtle when looking at me, because I don't want her to think I'm making fun of her.

A Touch of History:

When the teacher walks in he starts to call roll which I kind of space out during, as I start to think about where I'm going to stay tonight. I really don't want to go back to my parent's house. Unless it's to try and find my car title again, but then again if I just go on ahead and order a new one I can just avoid the stress of going back there all together. Which I think would be worth the hassle of dealing with the DMV.

A light brush of fingers over my forearm brings my attention out of my head, to see Rachel looking at me with concern. "Miss Fabray?" Now I know why she is looking at me like that. I raise my hand and say 'here' quickly. "Pay attention, Miss Fabray." He tells me in an annoyed tone, which I have to admit sets my temper on edge. I shift in my chair and cross my legs angrily. I hate being called out like that, not to mention I've not had to deal with that kind of thing in a very long time. I've not had to answer to anyone, but the woman sitting next to me, in nearly fifteen years for fucks sakes! Which is when Rachel and I bought my photography company and therefore no longer had a boss to answer to. I don't realize it, until I hear a tiny gasp from my left, but I have started to lightly play with Rachel's fingers.

When I had shifted my chair, it was to be closer to her and I had dropped my left hand onto her right. When I'm annoyed or upset I've been known to just touch Rachel randomly – without conscious thought – in order to calm down. It's a habit and completely unconscious when I do it. Not that I need to be angry to touch her, but it does happen more often without my direct conscious involvement when I'm pissed or upset. Rachel's touch is soothing and allows me to relax more easily.

I almost stop what I'm doing until I see that her eyes are shining with delight and a bit of wonder at my touch. So I just let it go and keep playing with each slender digit, letting the action calm me back down. I'm feeling better by the time Mr. Johnson is done with the roll and is in the process of explaining that we will be viewing a documentary this morning. I vaguely remember this, but I can't remember the exact documentary nor can I remember what it's going to be on. As Mr. Johnson moves to set up the movie I gently slide Rachel's hand off the top of the table into my lap and start to use both of my hands to play with hers.

Rachel shifts her own chair at this move, so that she is nearly pressed against my left side before I feel her lean in close to my ear and asks softly "What are you doing, Quinn?" Her voice is husky and tight. I can tell that she is enjoying my touch and is trying to control the urge to touch me back. I smile softly to myself as the lights go out and the documentary begins.

I lean over to her ear, after she moves away from me – having already finished asking her question – and whisper, "I would think that would be fairly obvious, Rachel." I can't keep the humor or the bit of flirtation out of my voice as I say this. I know she won't let herself believe that I just want to touch her, but that is exactly the reason that I'm allowing myself to continue to touch her. I can't even help letting the tip of my nose slide against Rachel's jaw for a moment as I pull away from her after I finish speaking.

I'm even tempted to drop a soft kiss to her cheek for a moment, but I do manage to catch myself and finally pull away. Rachel is barely breathing and I'm fairly certain that she isn't paying any attention to the documentary at all. I don't want her to freak out because I end up moving too quickly so I refocus myself on what is going on with the class. I resolutely click open my pen and start to take notes on what we are watching. That way, even though Rachel isn't paying all that much attention, she will still be able to have my notes to go by later on. Now that I'm watching the film I realize I do remember seeing the documentary a few times throughout my life. So as I watch, most of it comes back to me pretty quickly, making it much easier to take down more detailed notes than I would have originally.

It takes another couple of minutes before Rachel squeezes my hand gently then extracts it from my light hold. She doesn't move away from how closely we are sitting, just takes up her own pen and starts to take her own notes. Next time I really need to sit on Rachel's left so she can have use of her right hand during class. I can still hold her left hand with my left hand over my lap if I need to. Or I can just have Rachel keep her hand on my lap. At that thought I press my thigh against hers. Due to the ever present short skirts Rachel wore during this time in her life, my bare thigh is able to press against her bare thigh and it gives me a small shiver of pleasure to feel her skin against mine as it always does.

I know I'm playing with fire by doing this, but I've never been able to resist Rachel, and it has always been that much harder when I'm pregnant. I feel her pause in her writing when I do it and I wait to see if she's going to call me out on it, but after a few seconds she begins to write again. I can see out of the corner of my eyes that she is once more concentrating on the documentary so I go back to my own notes, but keep my thigh pressed tightly against hers.

The documentary is nearly over by the time I feel a light tentative brush of fingers over the skin of my thigh, that is pressed against hers. It surprises me and I nearly stop writing. I'm not sure if I'm imagining it or not at first, but when there is a second feeling of a set of fingers brushing – this time longer – against the top of my thigh, I know I wasn't just imagining it; which makes me smile softly. The next time I feel the light tingles of her fingertips, they are just shy of actually touching the side of my thigh. As though it could be reasoned that it was accidental if I took issue with it.

She has obviously decided to rest her own left hand on her thigh, so it places the tips of her fingers just barely touching my thigh. I can't help the grin that comes to my lips at the feel of them. She's testing what the limits are for touching me. Rachel's bravery has always awed me. For all she knows this is a prank, yet she is still willing to see if something more can happen. She has always been amazingly brave, when it comes to what she wants in life. If there is a crack open where she can see a way in, she will generally work up the courage to try and see how far she can take it.

A lot of times she will get burned by her willingness to test the waters, as I can attest to. Mostly because I would inadvertently leave an opening of some kind for her to test and then I would be the one to freak out and shut her down in the cruelest way I could, during my original timeline. Now though, I have no desire to keep Rachel away, so she will succeed a lot more this time around, at least with me. I wonder how much that will change other things within her life as she matures. I can only hope that the changes will be for the better and not hurt her in some way.

I can't go back to the way I was and let things be the way they were the first time around. I can only hope that having a supportive friendship, if not a relationship with me will have a beneficial outcome, otherwise; why would I even be here? This can't be something that has happened on a regular basis to people... There has to be some reason as to why I have been transported into my past to relive it. I may never figure that reason out, but I can make the choice to change my choices and I can possibly make things better for a lot more people in the long run.

So with a small smile flitting over my lips, I continue to outwardly ignore what Rachel is doing. Mainly so I don't scare her away. To help encourage her I slowly move my leg up and down, so my thigh slowly rubs against hers while brushing against her fingertips in the process. At first the move makes her pull away, but she comes back quickly and this time her fingers settle gently on top of my thigh. and I stop moving my leg to keep her fingers in place. Rachel's touch is timid as though she is prepared to snatch her hand back at a moment's notice, but it's there.

I can't even pretend to be paying attention to the documentary anymore. I can only hang my head and hold my pen still as I shift in my seat so I am pressing my hip against hers. Damn my hormones ramping up my desires for Rachel. It's making it that much harder to keep everything in perspective. I need to keep from moving too fast with Rachel. Even though I've had thirty years of experience being in love with Rachel – twenty-five of those in an actual romantic relationship with her – she is new to even the idea that I could possibly like her as a person, let alone be in love with her.

I can feel her freezing next to me. I don't move even though all I want to do is reach over and kiss her senseless. It takes every ounce of my willpower to not take her hand and place it completely on my thigh, just so she knows I don't mind her touching me. I don't do it though; I remain still and let her move at her own pace. I feel it is important for her to come to me on how physical we are together. She is only fifteen right now. She is a few months younger than me, so technically I'm fifteen too, but still, I don't want to rush her into something she isn't fully ready for emotionally. As much as I want to make love to my wife again, I am fully happy to wait until she is ready for those kinds of activities.

She relaxes a bit after a few seconds of me doing nothing to stop her. Slowly she slides her fingers over my thigh until the whole of her hand is resting on it. I can hear her breathing turn shallow and fast as her hand settles over my skin. Still I do nothing about it. She knows I'm fully aware of her actions and I know she is waiting for a negative reaction by the stiffness in the way she is sitting and the way she hasn't let her hand relax yet. It's going to take time before she will understand that I am open to however she wants to touch me now. I know with time, my patience will be rewarded, by her becoming completely comfortable with me in the future; so it's okay.

I have to suppress the moan of pleasure once her hand starts to relax and mold over the muscle of my thigh. I can also see, out of the corner of my eye, that her body too is starting to relax the longer she isn't rebuffed. I am debating whether I should place my own hand over hers, but I don't have time to more than just make the decision to move my hand, because unfortunately, our asshole of a teacher has incredibly shitty timing and decides to flip on the light just as Rachel starts to relax. She nearly jumps out of her chair at the sudden brightness and snatches her hand away from my leg. I sigh and finally look over at her. I can see that she is really nervous by the fact that she has a beautifully pink flush surging up her neck, into her cheeks, and she has started to chew on her lower lip and fidget with her pen.

She isn't looking back at me either. Making sure she can see me, I move my arm until I am able to set my hand on her hand, that is tapping her pen on the desk. She stops once my hand is resting on top of hers, but she still doesn't look at me. She keeps her eyes on my hand, that is on hers. "Rachel..." I say to get her attention. I want to make sure she knows I'm okay with what she was doing. In the background I can hear our teacher tell us to partner up for the assignment and for a pairs project – the first of two major projects he will be requiring for the year apparently – but I don't move and wait for Rachel's eyes to finally come up to mine. Though her hands have stopped fidgeting I can feel that she is now bouncing her leg a bit to compensate. I smile softly when her eyes settle on mine and I gently caress my fingers over the back of her hand. I'm happy to see that she slowly returns the smile even if it's shyly.

Out of the corner of my eye I can see that creep, Jacob ben Israel, heading back this way. That's when it hits me that she always gets stuck with Jacob or whoever wasn't able to find a partner fast enough and was left. There is no way I will let that stalker anywhere near Rachel again, so I quickly squeeze Rachel's hand gently and ask, "Be my partner?" before that creep can get close enough to hear.

Her eyes grow wide at the question and she looks around quickly as though I could possibly be asking someone else she just didn't see near her. I know she wasn't expecting me to ask her to be my partner, oh if she only knew how badly I want her to be my partner in every way imaginable. I gently squeeze her hand again to let her know that I was indeed asking her. Her eyes are still wide but finally she smiles shyly back at me and nods her consent. "Hello beautiful, are you ready to wor-"

"Go away, Jewfro, before I remove your creepy eyes from your head." I interrupt Jacob when he starts to speak. Pinning him with my most intimidating glare. I'm happy to note that he squeaks and spins around, moving quickly back to his own desk. I hate that boy and that never changes over the years.

"Quinn!" Rachel hisses at me, for the threat I assume, but I just grin at her and lean the side of my head against my upraised right fist, as I look at Rachel's horrified expression. She never likes it when I threaten people, but later she realizes Jewfro deserves it. Right now, Rachel doesn't know what he becomes in the future. He's one of the biggest thorns in our sides as a freelance paparazzo and celebrity gossip blogger. It's as though he's made it his mission to make Rachel's and my life – by proxy – a living hell, once Rachel makes it big in New York. So I have no remorse about intimidating the fuck out of him now.

"You know he's a creep and a stalker Rach, I don't like the way he's obsessed with you, so nothing you say will make me back off from threatening him into leaving you alone." I say evenly, but with genuine affection. She looks at me, her head tilting to the side as though she's trying to assess my sincerity, which she more than likely is. I just smile at her charmingly, not bothered by the assessment at all. I move my hand off hers and reach down to lightly grasp her left hand, that is now resting on her own lap. I can feel her stiffen as I pull it gently back to rest on my thigh again. "You don't have to stop this next time. I like it." I say softly as I place my own hand over hers on my thigh.

It takes a moment for the shock to wear off again, before a beautifully shy smile graces her lips once more. I love that smile. I don't get to see it very often in my own timeline, but when I do get to see it, it makes my heart rate speed up. "Misses Berry, Fabray? Are you two working together for this project and assignment?" I tear my eyes away from Rachel to look back up at the teacher. I nod, glaring at the look he is giving us, it's obvious that he's confused. As though it's such a foreign concept that I would willingly work with Rachel.

It annoys me that even the teachers seem to fall into the same social stigmas as the kids in this school. I mean the schools mine and Rachel's kids go to? Those teachers really make a concerted effort to keep a tight rein in the bullying. They also try very hard to curb the issues within the inherent social hierarchy that all schools have. They try very hard to make sure all of the kids feel safe within the school, unlike here at McKinley, where Sue is pretty much the adult that has any real say over what happens in this school, unless it really comes down to money and Figgens gets a bug up his ass about it. And really Sue couldn't really care what happens with the students, so long as her Cheerios are left alone and they are fit to win. Which is why the only real authority that rules in this school is really issued through me, and that is a really scary thing now that I think about it with the mind of an adult.

In the kids schools their faculty try very hard to keep the bullying down, it's not possible to end it all, but they do try. Leah, unfortunately, has some issues from time to time, but it's not a 'social' standing one. It's based on her intelligence and her difficulty making friends, mostly due to her shyness, but even with that the teachers at her school try to help her by punishing those that mock her or by having someone to talk to when she can't relate to her peers. Unlike here in Mckinley, where the students are the ones that run the school and they determine how people are treated and dealt with. Well I guess now that I'm back with all of my knowledge from my forty-five year old self, it's up to me to change that. Or use it to my advantage... I'm not sure which would actually work...

I'm brought back to what is going on with the teacher when he sighs softly and hands me a couple packets of papers. I guess Rachel nodded in confirmation to his question about us working together, because he is marking it down in his grade book that we will be working together. I take the papers from him and hand a set to Rachel as he moves on from us. We both take a moment to look the papers over to see what we will be doing. It seems we will have to do an assignment that goes over what the video was about. It's not hard and I can answer all the questions I scan over in my sleep. I put that aside and look at the project outline. I vaguely remember working on this project before, but my partner and I – back then – got the fortifications, not food and cooking techniques, of the early middle ages.

I can't remember if this was what Rachel had to do for her project last time or not, but it is certainly going to be different for me. We will have to do a ten to fifteen minute practical demonstration or speech about our topic as well as a ten page written essay on the subject matter. Food should be a much more interesting topic than the fortifications I had to do last time. I love to cook and learning about how those in the early middle ages cooked and ate will be fun. A groan from my left gets me to look over at Rachel. I still had her hand pressed to my thigh, but that didn't seem to be the source of her distress as her thumb was now absently caressing my thigh. "What's wrong?" I ask softly, setting my own packet down, rubbing my hand over hers on my thigh.

She looks over at me, her thumb stopping its movement much to my disappointment, but I decide to keep caressing her hand even though she has stopped. She looks back at the packet and lets it flop back onto the desk. "Food during the early middle ages has a lot of meat in it." She says forlornly. I blink in surprise that this is a problem for Rachel.

"Rach, nothing says you have to cook any of the meat okay? I will handle all of that. You can do the part that deals with the vegetation and grains that they ate instead." I tell her gently. It's not that I forgot that she was vegan at this time, I just forgot that she's not my Rachel, who would already know that I would take care of anything dealing with meat, as I've done throughout our life together. It's also helpful that my Rachel was no longer a vegan, but a vegetarian in my timeline.

"Oh... I didn't think about that." I smile at Rachel's simple statement and the fact that she believes me when I tell her that I will take care of it. The rest of class consisted of the teacher letting us know our due dates for the paper and the order we would need to have our presentation ready. Rachel and I luck out when we get the last slot for our presentation. So that means we will have nearly a month and a half to get the presentation ready even though the paper has to be handed in at the end of October.

Rachel asks a few questions about how he would want the paper written and the last few minutes was left for us to do the in-class assignment. It took Rachel and I only half the time left to finish, unfortunately, that meant I had to let Rachel take her hand from my thigh so she could get up and turn the papers in. I take the time to put my thing away, as well as stack up Rachel's things, so she only needed to put them into her book bag when she came back.

"He said we can go early if we want." Rachel says softly when she returns. She smiles at me when she sees what I've done to make it quicker to pack up. I nod and stand, picking up my bag as she slips her stuff into hers and we are heading out shortly after that.


Ending Chapter Author's Note:

That is the end of Chapter two. I really hope this has been worth the wait. I want to apologize for the wait in posting this next chapter, but my life kind of turned upside down and it took me some time to adjust my new normal. I can say that I will be trying to get my chapters up a lot faster than I had in the past as I have a new drive to finish them as quickly as possible for you all and myself. I have so many stories I want to share with all of you wonderful people that I can get them all out to you.

For everyone waiting for Done Pretending, I am rewriting it, from the beginning and that is why it is taking so long to update the story. My writing has changed and evolved so much over the years that I couldn't find a way to keep updating chapters of the story in a way that made the story make sense with what I had written previously, so I broke down and decided to just overhaul it and do a complete rewrite. Do not worry what I have written thus far will remain up until I have finished my rewrites then it will simply be replaced with the updated chapters.

If you are already following the story you will still get the notice that new chapters have been uploaded, but I don't think they will inform you of the updated chapters unless you are on either the FFN App (which I do highly recommend using if you have not started already, as it has no ads and it will allow you to save all you stories much more efficiently in folders and things like. Though the no ADs might be because I paid for them, but I'm not sure so you will have to see on that feature, the others still stand as far as I know.), or FanFiction Plus. FanFiction Plus is Connected to the network but I do believe you have to pay for the app so be aware of that. I don't use it a lot, but I do have it.

Though if you are an App user, you can contact me more easily as I use the app exclusively for reading now and only use the Web version for posting and checking my inbox when I remember to do so, which I will confess is not very often. Unfortunately, the FFN PM system is not connected between the Web and App versions so I do not get any PMs sent to me that are not sent via the Web until I come onto the web version via my laptop or desktop which is generally only when I am going to post something. So please consider getting the App for FFN, I don't believe you will regret it.

Review Acknowledgments: From Newest to Oldest

Guest: chapter 1 . Nov 16, 2020 ("I love time travel faberry. Great start!") Thank you for your lovely words! They mean the world to me! I also love Time Travel Faberry, which is why I decided I wanted to try my hand at one. I just hope my version works out in the end!

HalfSoulDemon: chapter 1 . Nov 10, 2020 ("Very cool story so far.") LOL Thanks! I was hoping people would think the concept was cool! Glad that worked at least.

Guest: chapter 1 . Oct 7, 2020 ("Man I thought you lost the fire to finish this story I'm happy you're back I like that Quinn dove headfirst into getting herself out of an awful situation") Thanks for the wonderful review! And I am sorry for the delays, I do hope there will not be so many now. I really want to get this completely out to you all. Just so you know, I will never lose the fire for any of my stories. Just sometimes life gets in the way of actually doing what I want to do. I seriously hope you continue to enjoy the direction the story takes, please let me know. And you can make an Account even if you don't write, that way you can write PMs and can chat with the Authors privately.

brooklyn99addict: prologue . Oct 7, 2020 ("I hope you could post this at archiveofourown becquse I know this fic would be a huge hit") To be honest, it's a lot of work to post my stories on AO3, due to the HTML coding they require. I have a lot of italicizing and bolding in my stories to make for better storytelling and it takes a long time to go through the story again to make sure I go every single one of those for a story this long. It's just not worth the time it takes. If they had the true Copy and Paste ability that FFN has, that keeps all of my formatting intact, then I would use the platform for more than short one chapter stories. So I am sorry for that. Though I am glad you think it would be popular on the site.

Forevergleek9615: chapter 1 . Oct 6, 2020 ("So glad you're back. I'm even more curious as to what Quinn is doing and why and how she'll get with Rachel.

I know this isn't probably the ideal place for me to ask, but will you be updating 'Done Pretending'?") As you can see with this chapter I do not plan to keep everyone waiting on how Quinn plans to get back with Rachel or her general plans for how she wants the future to go. How it actually goes is another matter in of itself, but that is where the storytelling comes in. I'm glad the story has you curious and I do hope you continue to be interested in the story throughout. As for Done Pretending, I hope the information above answered those questions, but if you have anything more specific, please PM me and I will try to get back to you as soon as I can. It would be quicker if you PM me on the FFN App though.

Guest: prologue . Jul 14, 2020 ("Why so many daughters and no son") That is simply because they are genetically both Rachel and Quinn's children and it would be impossible for two women to genetically produce anything but female offspring. If you are to ask how this is to happen then I am going to have to ask you to wait and find out, as it will come out in the story as it progresses.

Forevergleek9615: prologue . Jul 13, 2020 ("Really nice seeing you back writing Faberry, I have missed your writing. So many questions I have after reading this chapter so I'm curious. But I am loving it. Welcome back") LOL I love your curiosity that makes me happy. I'm very happy that you like my writing. I have to admit this made me smile a lot.

allen r: prologue . Jul 13, 2020 ("OK just wondering how the kids have both Rachel and Quinns genes? That is something you need to explain. As they are both women and I really hope neither of them have male parts. So please explain this.") No worries I will say, no male parts are involved, but other than that please be patient and allow the story to progress as it will be explained over time. Though I am glad you picked up on the fact that they were both genetically belonging to Rachel and Quinn I was worried that fact wouldn't come through in the writing of the prologue. So thank you for letting me know it did come through.

Valerii FaberryFa: prologue . Jul 13, 2020 ("Really like it so far! Looking forward to read more. Take care.") I'm very glad you are enjoying it and I hope you will continue to do so. Please feel free to continue to let me know how you are feeling about the story as it progresses. Thank you for taking the time to drop me a review. Sorry I had to take out the dot in your Handle, as it would not allow me to post it otherwise.