Sunday was spent oscillating between finishing up the rest of her homework — her history essay, the lab report, and answering a series of textbook questions regarding the differences and similarities between Freudian and Jungian psychology — and texting Quinn. Before they made this prom queen agreement, they rarely had reason to text one another and it surprised Rachel how different Quinn was in person versus through text, as evidenced by the copious amounts of emojis and GIFs that littered Rachel's phone screen.

It was not a complaint necessarily — Rachel enjoyed seeing yet another facet of Quinn's personality that not a lot of people get to witness.

Come Monday, Rachel had a spring in her step. She approached her locker only to find that Quinn waited for her there. Their eyes met, and in Rachel's eyes, it was like witnessing a sunrise, except more beautiful. Quinn had been checking her phone moments prior, but the sound of footsteps bade her to look up. She saw Rachel, and Rachel saw her. The slow spread of a smile that stemmed from the center of her lips, rose to the edges of her mouth, to her cheeks, and eventually, to her stark hazel eyes. Rachel's smile went from a zero to a full on beam.

She couldn't help it — Quinn was always a sight to behold.

"Hi," Rachel skipped on over to Quinn and shyly nestled into the blonde's embrace when she opened her arms to take Rachel in.

"Hi. Sorry I fell asleep while we were discussing how much of a dork you were."

Rachel huffed and rolled her eyes. She opened her locker to swap out textbooks and retrieve ones she needed for the day. "I wasn't the one waxing poetic about period dramas last night. Oh, maybe you should wear an Elizabethan gown for prom!"

"I know you're joking but I really would, if it fit the prom theme."

"There's a prom theme?"

Quinn raised a curt brow and crossed her arms across her chest. "Please tell me you're joking."

Rachel suddenly got very nervous. Gone was the playful banter in Quinn's voice, replaced by the irrevocable sternness of the Head Cheerleader. Maybe she shouldn't joke about prom, given how much Quinn took it seriously. It would be the Rachel Berry equivalent of someone mocking Barbara, or making fun of Broadway as an institution. "Um, it has something to do with fairy tales, doesn't it?"

Quinn's shoulders visibly lost tension. "Oh, good. You were joking."

A sigh of relief escaped Rachel. Quinn reached out for Rachel's hand, laced their fingers, and together they walked to class.

If the whispers that trailed them were any indication, Rachel would dare say that the subtle display of the beginnings of their physical intimacy was a success.

Everywhere she and Quinn went, they would find a way to be making contact. While Rachel chatted with Tina about their assignment for Chemistry, Quinn would reach out to fix a strand of Rachel's hair, or straighten the collar of her shirt so it peeked out properly above her sweater. Tina's reaction was one that they expected — the widened eyes, the slight slacked jaw, then the tightening of her lips shut. As soon as Quinn and Rachel spun around, Rachel chanced to look back and sure enough, Tina's fingers furiously typed across the screen of her phone.

"It's working," Rachel gloated during lunch. She and Quinn were outdoors, sitting on a bench underneath a maple tree. The football field and the bleachers were within sight. The sun was warm, and the wind rustled through the leaves.

Quinn licked the yogurt from the foil lid of her cup and smiled at Rachel. "If Broadway doesn't work out — "

Rachel gasped. "Quinn, don't you ever dare say something like that again in your life — "

The blonde snickered. "I'm just saying — keep the idea of being a publicist to a celebrity as a back-up plan because you are so good at this."

"Why thank you," Rachel grinned. "I graciously accept your compliment."

"What's next? Should we announce that we're dating? To glee club, at least."

"No," Rachel said after she swallowed a bite of clementine. "Since you never announced that you were dating Finn, Sam, nor even Puck, why should you announce that you're dating me? Albeit in a fake way, you understand," Rachel rushed to say, her ears reddening at the slip. The constant reminder to herself that none of this is real fluctuated, and the need to remember grew more pressing than ever.

Still, Quinn seemed unaffected by Rachel's slip. So, Rachel continued.

"You're a private person, Quinn. So it would seem remarkably out of character if you mention something about us outright. As for me, however… Please be ready to be sung to during glee."

The smile on Quinn's features was small, sincere. "I look forward to it."

Rachel found no hint of sarcasm whatsoever in Quinn's tone.

"So," Quinn teased. "We're dating now, huh?"

A blush crept on Rachel's cheeks, and she wanted to bury her face in her hands to hide the redness there. "We're dating now."

And in the buzz of that late spring day, with their thighs touching while they sat on the wooden bench that overlooked the school, Rachel wondered if she would emerge out of this ordeal emotionally unscathed.

As the week progressed, Rachel and Quinn began to plan their prom queen campaigning in earnest. The first thing they did was to have their photos taken in an amateur photoshoot by a photography student.

Quinn fixed Rachel's hair. "Let me see your prom queen smile."

Rachel flashed Quinn her wide grin, but one look from the blonde told her that it was not correct.

"That's the smile you make when you already won," Quinn teased. "Close your lips, tilt your head like so," she directed Rachel into a specific position that, though contrived, still felt natural, much to Rachel's surprise. "There, perfect. Hold still." Quinn positioned herself to stand behind Rachel and rested a hand on Rachel's hip. The photography student took countless pictures, judging from the amount of times the shutter made the snapping noise.

"How did you get someone to help you? Did you bribe them?" Rachel asked Quinn while the student uploaded their photos into the school computer.

"I didn't have to do much," Quinn admitted. "I just asked."

"I think they've always wanted to photograph you," Rachel said with a chuckle. "Right?" She asked the student, who blushed and nodded. "See? It's because you're beauty itself, Quinn."

The blonde laughed and took the SD card from the student with a soft thank you. They left the photography studio and walked the length of the hallway. School was over, so hardly any people were around. "Now I get to make campaign posters. Are you free tomorrow night? I want to discuss dresses and corsages with you."

"Well, daddy has been asking when you would come over again," Rachel said. "I'd have to shift my MySpace upload schedule but — "

"You can do it while I'm there, can't you?"

Rachel paused. "If you don't mind waiting."

"Not at all," Quinn squeezed Rachel's hand and released it when they arrived at the parking lot to part ways. "See you tomorrow, Rachel."

It was shocking how fast Quinn designed and printed the campaign posters. By the time Rachel arrived at school the next day, they were posted — not on every surface, but tactfully and in prime locations, like above the water fountain, or against certain classroom doors. The stares that she received unnerved her at first.

"Rachel!" Kurt and Mercedes ran to approach her, each of them holding on a copy of Rachel and Quinn's campaign poster in their hands. "Why didn't you tell us about this?" Kurt sounded livid, his voice in a higher pitch than normal.

"This has more impact, don't you think?" She inspected the poster and grinned. "And don't we look great?"

"Since when were you and Quinn bosom buddies?" Mercedes demanded.

"Maybe if you two looked up from your phones once in a while, you would have noticed," Quinn came up behind Rachel and slung a casual arm around Rachel's neck. The two gossip queens gawked.

"And I'm sure Tina mentioned it at some point."

"We thought she was joking!"

"Clearly," Quinn used her body to box Kurt and Mercedes away from Rachel. "We're still on for tonight? I promise I won't be late because I had to go downtown to buy you vegan cinnamon rolls again."

Behind the blonde, Kurt and Mercedes looked at each other. Clearly they were being dismissed and so they went off on their way.

"You know, you can stand to be a teensy bit nicer to them. Maybe it'll be their votes that get you to win prom queen."

"If it's their vote that would make us win, I don't want it. So, back to a more important topic — are we still on for tonight?"

Rachel giggled and nodded. "Of course we're on. Daddy is excited to see you again."

Quinn frowned. "Does your dad not like me?"

"It's not that," Rachel said carefully while they walked the hallway together, amidst the stares and the whispers. "He just thinks I forgave you too easily — after all the bullying and such. But I told him," Rachel assured a worried-looking Quinn. "That you've changed, and that you genuinely like me — more or less."

"What do you mean, 'more or less'?"

Damn it, Rachel, she thought to herself. Why did you have to go and qualify everything you say?

"I just meant that…" Rachel swallowed and mulled her words over in her brain. Her voice lowered into a hush. "You like me only as a friend and not as this... couple that we pretend to be."

"Oh, right," the furrow of the frown on Quinn's features smoothed, and she looked visibly calmer. "I can't do much regarding that, I guess. I can tell your dad that I've changed as much as I want, but until he sees that I have…" She allowed her words to trail off, a thoughtful glint in her eye. Rachel remained silent to fully appreciate the way Quinn looked as she thought. She really was so damn beautiful that Rachel found it difficult to look away. She could sit there in wanting, listening to every word that spilled out of Quinn's lips, if she would let her. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"N-nothing," Rachel flushed a bright pink. "I'll see you later!"

Phew. That was a close one.

On the way between classes, the PA system made a beeping sound that preceded every announcement.

"Will Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry please come to Principal Figgins' office immediately? Thank you."

Rachel frowned and wove her path through crowds of students. By the time she arrived at the reception desk of the principal's office, Quinn was already there. She shrugged, and they were ushered into the office. There, Principal Figgins sat behind his desk. The head of the prom committee was there as well.

"I called you here because of your posters," Figgins said with a weary tone. "Is it true that you two are campaigning for prom queens – together?"

"Yes," Rachel said firmly. "Together, not against each other. Don't you think it's about time that the archaic tradition of prom royalty be free from the rigidity of heteronormativity?"

Figgins looked at Quinn, then at Rachel. "Hm. You're the prom committee," he addressed the other student in the room. "It's your decision."

"Oh, good," the student said with a grin. "We already rewrote the ballot forms. We made it so that the student body votes for the couple running together so they don't do prank write-ins or anything like that." They showed Rachel a sheet of paper. On it were the list of couples and checkboxes beside their names.

"Thank you. I appreciate that our name is on top of the list." Quinn told the head of the prom committee, who blushed.

"I swear I'm not biased."

Rachel beamed upon Quinn's entry into the music room. The rest of the club were chatting amongst themselves about schoolwork, about prom, about Regionals, and Quinn was one of the last ones to arrive.

"You're late," Rachel chastised.

"I'm not late, you're just early," Quinn sat beside her. "You look like you're planning something…"

Rather than respond, Rachel raised her hand. Mr. Schue sighed (and the glee club groaned). "Yes, Rachel?"

"I would like to perform a song please, Mr. Schue."

He gestured towards the space in front of him. "Go ahead – not that anyone can stop you."

Rachel beamed and shot up from her seat. She swept the front of her skirt and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. She positioned a microphone stand in front of her. With Quinn's eyes on her, the rest of the club hardly mattered. Let them scoff and groan – Rachel needed to get something out of her chest, and it was convenient that it also furthered their agenda – hers and Quinn's – into leading the world to believe that they were a couple.

The opening notes of the pop-y, upbeat song started and Rachel sang the first stanza. For the second, she unhooked the mic from the stand and danced around, smiling, her eyes on Quinn – and only Quinn.

"Oh, with you I got to get bolder, I just wanna get a little bit closer, and I press you to the pages of my heart," Rachel sang into the microphone with a bright grin. "Don't go, no, the night's not over, I just wanna get a little bit closer. And I press you to the pages of my heart."

"I want you in my room, on the bed, on the floor," at this, the glee club cheered and hollered. Rachel could see the pink rising in Quinn's cheeks, and it encouraged her to be coyer, to be more playful. And to be more explicit. She pointed at Quinn. "I wanna do bad things to you, slide on through my window, I want you in my room. Baby don't you want me too?" Rachel asked, pointing to herself with a pout.

The song finished and Rachel sat beside Quinn once more. The blonde's face was a bright red but she was smiling, her eyes bright and filled with amusement.

"That was pretty gay," Santana said, impressed. Rachel beamed at her.

"Did you like it?" Rachel leaned closer to Quinn, and she casually slung an arm around Rachel's shoulder.

"Let me put it this way," Quinn's low voice, her hot breath caressed the shell of Rachel's ear. "I want to be in your room too."

Of course, it was inevitable that Finn would confront Rachel about the campaign posters. It took him a long time to do so, which surprised Rachel — though then again, perhaps not.

"What is this?" He demanded, jabbing his pointer finger at the bulletin board where Rachel and Quinn's campaign poster hung. For some reason, they remained untouched — no one drew moustaches or beards, no black eyes and crossed-out faces. They remained pristine, and Rachel wondered why. "Did Quinn put you up to this?"

"No," Rachel lied. "Of course not! Quinn merely suggested it and I thought it would be fun to do with her."

Finn scowled. "Since when were you into girls? Since when was Quinn into girls?"

He asked far too many questions — simple ones, but difficult to answer, nonetheless. "I've always like girls, Finn."

"You dated me and you liked girls?" His voice reached fever pitch, made him sound prepubescent.

"One can like girls and boys, you know."

"Why didn't you tell me?" He demanded.

"Because I knew you would react poorly," snapped Rachel.

Finn gritted his teeth and looked around the hallway and saw that a handful of students were watching them. At least he had an inkling on how it made him appear — threatening, intolerant. An overall jerk. So he allowed his shoulders to lose the tension. "It just took me by surprise, that's all. I just want you to be careful — Quinn is mean and terrible and evil and — "

"Finn," Rachel said sharply, and the boy paused in shock. "Don't talk about Quinn in that way — with me or anyone else."

"I'm trying to protect you — "

"Thank you, but there really is no need."

"And it's not like you would win prom queen anyway — "

Rachel spun on her heel and walked away. Willfully ignored anything that sounded remotely like Finn's voice that begged her to come back.

During a study period, Rachel found Mike sitting on the library lounge chairs, his chemistry textbook propped open on his lap. "Mike, can I talk to you?"

"Oh, hey," he cleared the seat beside her which was covered with piles of his books. "I was going to text you if I didn't see you at all today but congrats on the prom queen thing. I didn't realize you and Quinn were together-together."

"It's not like we won yet," Rachel smoothed her skirt down and sat beside Mike. Fidgeted with the hem of her skirt and stared at her hands.

"What's wrong?"

Rachel released a nervous, shaky breath, looked around to see if anyone was within eavesdropping range. Once satisfied that no one cared about them, she looked at Mike. "Quinn and I — we're not… we're not together-together." Mike raised a brow but remained quiet, and for that Rachel was grateful. "She wanted to win prom queen so badly that she asked me because, and I quote, everyone likes lesbians now."

"She's right," Brittany popped up from behind the couch Mike was sitting on. Rachel shrieked in surprise and clutched her hand to her chest. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. But Quinn's right. Everyone loves lesbians. I should know – I love one."

Rachel took deep breaths to calm her racing heart.

"You and Quinn do have that enemies to friends to lovers thing going on between you two," Mike said thoughtfully. "And people like to root for the underdogs."

"I know," Rachel sighed. "But the thing is, I'm so confused about my feelings. I thought, this would be another good acting exercise! Except I have to act at all hours that me and Quinn are a couple. There's no boundary of a set filming time, or a stage performance. And there's no script — I have to go by what feels authentic to me!"

Rachel rambled while Mike and Brittany nodded and listened.

"You're in love with Quinn," Brittany said in awe.

"I don't – I'm not…" Rachel sputtered. "I don't know if I am, okay? It sure feels like it, but I don't know if that's because I'm supposed to act like I am, or if I actually am, as you say, in love with her." Heat erupted on her face at the words that spilled out of her mouth. She turned to Mike, who watched Rachel with an amused smile.

"I think the only thing you should remember is that the relationship itself is fake," he said calmly. "So try not to delude yourself that Quinn loves you until you've had a real conversation about it." It hurt to hear those words, but Rachel clamped her lips together and nodded. "But your feelings? They can be real, despite your circumstances."

The study period ended and all three of them packed up their things. Mike excused himself to go to the washroom, so it left Brittany and Rachel to walk the halls together.

"I wish Santana and I would run for prom couple too," Brittany said with a small sigh. "I keep telling her no one cares about her being a lesbian that much, but she's scared."

"I'm glad she wouldn't, because me and Quinn would hate to compete against you guys," Rachel joked, and it brought a smile to Brittany's lips.

"You're right – if we ran for prom couple, you two would go down. Hopefully on each other."

Rachel's jaw dropped at the insinuation, but Brittany saw Santana at that moments so she bounded like an elegant gazelle towards the girl, who smiled, radiant like the sun, at the sight of Brittany. Rachel watched them, the easy way their pinkies linked, the loving smile on their faces. She turned a corner to find Quinn by Sam's locker. They spoke in hushed tones. A sheet of paper passed from Sam's binder to Quinn's.

"Hi," Rachel greeted. The two blonds stiffened and scrambled to hide whatever it was they were doing. It amused Rachel to see them visibly guilty over the paper that crossed hands. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Sam said, his voice cracking like he was going through puberty again. He cleared his throat. "Nothing to worry your pretty little head, missy." He drawled in a deep, Texan accent.

"Hmm," Rachel looked at Sam, then at Quinn, who only smiled and batted her eyelashes.

"It's nothing," Quinn said as she looped her arm around Rachel's to walk her to her next class.

Rachel rode in Quinn's car to head to her house where they talked about casual, airy things, like classes and homework. When the conversation steered towards how well their ploy seemed to be working, Rachel had to resist shutting up like a panicked clam.

"Did you know Finn had the gall to offer to run for prom king with me — only because his masculinity felt threatened that his two ex-girlfriends are together and running for prom queen?" Quinn rambled as she made the turn into Rachel's driveway. "Honestly, the nerve of him. Maybe in another world, I would have used him to win, but," she shut off the car engine so they were immersed in silence of just the two of them. Quinn's grip on the steering wheel loosened, and her shoulders sank to relax. "I think I like this world better."

She smiled at Rachel and stepped out of the car to head into the Berry house.

And honestly. Rachel was at her wit's end.

How could Quinn say those things and not expect fierce internal turmoil? It was unfair — it was uncouth — it was positively breathtaking, when Quinn said those things. The hopeful side of Rachel basked in it, relished in Quinn's words and the way she said them with abandon.

Rachel followed Quinn into her house, where Quinn was already chummy and chatting with Leroy at a mile a minute, while Hiram watched them in amusement. "Ah, there's the girl who actually lives here," Hiram teased with no malice at all in his voice. "Hello, darling. How was school?"

Resisting the urge to give a teenager-ly response (a gruff, 'eh'), Rachel expounded on the events of her day. She immediately excused herself, however.

"I'm a bit late recording and uploading. I'll be back," she told Quinn, who nodded from her seat on the couch. Rachel climbed upstairs to her room and set up her camera. For most of the day, when her mind was not preoccupied by thoughts of classes, Quinn, and her feelings for Quinn, she thought about what song she should cover next.

After her vocal warm-ups, she did a one take performance of Miss Marmelstein as originally sung by Barbra, edited it with an intro and outro, then allowed the video to render. She returned downstairs, found Quinn as she left her — talking to her daddy, but this time, Hiram was with them now, too.

"Did you manage to charm my dad already?" Rachel asked when they returned to her bedroom.

"I'd like to think so. We talked about you the entire time and I think that's what made him realize I like you now."

Rachel knew what Quinn meant when she said 'like' – she meant that she can tolerate Rachel and not want to put her fist through the singer's mouth – but a girl can dream, right? To her detriment, perhaps, but she can dream.

They sat on Rachel's bed and Quinn took out her phone to show Rachel her dress ideas. "We don't have to match exactly," she said. "I think contrasting colours would work better. Like, here," Quinn showed a photo of a pastel blue gown. "I'm thinking of getting this."

"It contrasts with pink," Rachel said with a grin.

"And you love pink," Quinn laughed. "I know. So you can get a pink gown and I get the blue and it'll work out without being too obvious about it. About the corsage…"

"I already know what corsage I'm getting for you," Rachel blurted. Seeing Quinn's expression, she giggled. "And it's a surprise, so don't even ask."

Quinn conceded easily, which came as a shock to Rachel. She half expected the head cheerleader to strong-arm her into divulging all her secrets. "I trust your taste," she explained with a shrug. "When will you be free to have dinner with me and my mom?"

"I — whenever you want, Quinn," Rachel asked in confusion. "But may I ask — why?"

"My mom expects me to be prom queen. It's what makes me want to be prom queen too, to some extent. She's been asking me non-stop about my plans to win and well," Quinn shrugged. "I haven't told her that I'm doing it with you yet."

From what Rachel understood of Quinn's parents and upbringing, she came from a religious family — hence the getting kicked out of her house because of her teen pregnancy. Quinn hardly talked about her family life during this period in her life, but she did mention that her mom was more open, more communicative than she had ever been.

So maybe this wouldn't be so bad, right?

"I'm weirdly nervous about it," Quinn admitted. "It's not like I'm actually coming out, though. Still, it's risky — but what is she going to do, kick me out again?"

"I hope not," Rachel winced. "But if she does, I'm sure you can stay here. Not that she will," she said, to reiterate.

"But if she does," Quinn repeated, a smile on her lips. "Can you do Friday?"

"I can. Should I bring anything?"

"No — don't worry about it," Quinn smiled and patted Rachel's shoulder. "I'll deal with the rest."

The rest of the week was a blur of studying, tests, prom queen campaigning and hanging out with Quinn. On Friday morning, when Rachel met Quinn at the blonde's locker, Jacob Ben Israel sprang out of a door and, with a camera aimed at Quinn and Rachel, and a microphone shoved at their faces, he assailed them with questions that bordered on impropriety.

"What made you two decide to date? Who made the first move? Is Rachel Berry good in bed?"

Rachel gawked at the impropriety of the questions. She turned back to Quinn, half-expecting her to yell at Jacob, but her face remained serene as she calmly answered the questions, with her arm around Rachel's shoulders.

"I've always liked Rachel — I just didn't know how to cope with it. So I was mean to her, called her names." She looked at Rachel with soft eyes, with tender eyes, that Rachel felt, right then and there, like confessing her messy and confusing love for Quinn. But instead, Rachel clamped her lips together, forced herself to smile.

"So when she and Finn broke up, I thought — that was the best time to make my move," Quinn continued, her delicate fingers brushing the line of Rachel's jaw, the fluttering pulse of her neck. "So to answer the question, I made the first move. And, is Rachel Berry good in bed?" Quinn flashed a flirtatious smile at the camera and really, at this point, Rachel should just stop hiding her blushes altogether. "I don't kiss and tell."

Jacob made an indiscrete panting noise reminiscent of an asthma attack. He squirmed, and Rachel winced. "And what about you, Rachel? Barring the experience she had with Noah Puckerman — which was not even Quinn's fault that Puck said she was not good since he is a two-pump chump: Is the Quinn Fabray good in bed?"

The world seemed to wait in tenterhooks for what Rachel would say next — arguably, a first. Rachel relished the attention for all of five seconds before she leaned into the microphone.

"Quinn is so good," Rachel said with a smirk and a coyness to her tone. "She can make the bed in ten seconds flat – I even timed her."

Quinn burst into giggles and with their hands laced together, they left a stunned Jacob Ben Israel behind.

Rachel walked up the pathway to Quinn's front door for dinner, and the opportunity to meet Judy Fabray. She saw her briefly when Quinn gave birth, and during this year's Sectionals and Regionals, but never said a word to her other than to say a quick hello. Rachel rang the doorbell, her palms sweaty. She smoothed her skirt, mustered her charming smile.

"Come in," Quinn said after she pulled the door open. "I like your sweater," she teased. It was Rachel's lucky argyle sweater, one that Quinn mocked incessantly during freshman and sophomore year.

"Yeah, right," Rachel quipped.

Judy emerged from the kitchen, clad in a white apron. She wore pearls, like how Rachel imagined she would. Quinn shared the same elegance in the way they walked. Their eyes shared the same hazel colour. "Rachel! It's so nice to finally meet you. I always adore your performances."

They shook hands and Judy ushered Rachel into the dining room, the table set for three. There was a bouquet of fresh flowers in the centre, and the plates and cutlery were, Rachel assumed, arrange in a formal dining setting. It was nerve-wracking to have more than two forks by the plates, to be in the presence of such formality.

"Are you okay?" Quinn whispered.

"Just a little nervous, but I'm fine." Rachel murmured.

Judy bade her to sit while Quinn served up a salad. "So, Quinnie told me that your club is hard at work for – what is it, dear?"

"Nationals, mom. We're going to New York for it, remember?"

"Ah, yes," Judy smiled. "I lived in the Lower East Side for a short time, back when I was working at a publishing house."

"Quinn," Rachel squeaked. "You never told me your mom lived in New York!"

Rachel and Judy chatted about the city while Quinn listened and picked at her salad.

Judy rose and excused herself to retrieve the main course, which was a pesto pasta with roasted cauliflower on the side. "Quinn told me you're vegan, and I'm only starting to get back into cooking more than just what my ex-husband liked which was a lot of steak and potatoes," Judy rolled her eyes. "So I appreciated the challenge."

"Thank you for accommodating me," Rachel told Judy, though her eyes were locked with Quinn's. The blonde smiled and gave a half-shrug that endeared her more in Rachel's eyes.

The dinner progressed with easy conversation in abundance. It wasn't until Judy brought up prom that Rachel's hands began to sweat in earnest, once again.

"Quinn hasn't told me about her plans yet," Judy lamented. "I was prom queen back when I was in high school, and you can't imagine how proud I am when Quinn expressed her desire to be prom queen as well. What about you, Rachel? Do you have a date already? What about your colour scheme? I heard the prom's theme was fairy tales…"

Underneath the table cloth, Quinn grasped for Rachel's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Mom, about that... Rachel and I are going to prom together."

Judy remained unphased. "Of course, darling. What about corsages?"

"Mom," Quinn's voice was sharp and authoritative. "I meant – Rachel is my date to prom."

The older Fabray went through such a stoic realization that it scared Rachel when she excused herself and disappeared into the kitchen. Quinn's shoulders, once tense, sagged. "I don't know why I feel so queasy. I think – " Quinn's voice trembled. "It's because she looked at me in the same way that she looked at me the night my dad kicked me out."

Rachel stroked the nape of Quinn's neck and scratched the base of her scalp. She leaned into Rachel's touch and sighed. "It's going to be fine, Quinn. She needs time to process."

But, as it turned out, Judy didn't need that much time at all. She reappeared, composed as ever. At the sight of her, Quinn and Rachel jumped apart.

"I'm sorry if my reaction scared you, Quinnie," she said, returning to her seat, a little bit breathless, a little bit shaken, but Rachel could tell she tried to rein it in, as best as she could. "It took me by surprise – I didn't – I wasn't sure how to react at all, so…"

"It's okay, mom." Quinn whispered. "I did spring it on you."

Judy swallowed hard and, Rachel could tell that the older Fabray looked at her differently then. "So, Rachel, what are your intentions with my daughter?" She asked, eyes sparkling.

"Mom!" Quinn shrieked.

Rachel smiled. "Truthfully, I wasn't planning on campaigning for prom queen at all, until Quinn brought it up," which was the truth, after all. "But now that I see how this would make Quinn happy, I resolve to give it my all so we could win. So, I suppose, the answer to your question – my intentions with your daughter is to make her happy. For prom, and even beyond that, if that was what she wanted."

Quinn met Rachel's eyes, and their grip on each other's hands tightened.

"I see I have nothing to worry about, then," Judy said with a small sigh.

With dinner ending in such a successful note, Rachel noticed the visible relief in Quinn's face, the loss of tension around her shoulders when she walked her out to her car. The walkway lights allowed Rachel to admire Quinn even as she clipped her seatbelt in the darkness of her vehicle. "Thank you for dinner. It was lovely."

"I should be the one thanking you," Quinn leaned her hip against the car door, her elbows resting against the rolled-down window. "I know you only said those things to appease my mom, but it looks like it worked."

"I didn't just say it for the sake of your mom," Rachel said as if it was a simple statement of fact. "I do want you to be happy, Quinn. And if this is one way to do it, I'll gladly do it for you."

Quinn looked at her with stormy eyes. She made a low, humming noise. "Why is that?"

"We're friends, aren't we? It's what friends do."

"Right," why did Quinn sound unconvinced? Panic settled in Rachel's stomach, and she cleared her throat. Her hands flexed against the steering wheel. "Drive safe, okay? Text me when you get home."

Rachel nodded. "Bye, Quinn. Good night."

On Saturday afternoon, Rachel stepped out of Mike's car with Brittany, and saw that Quinn's red Beetle was already parked by the curb in front of Sam's house. Rachel hurried inside and saw Quinn behind the DM screen with Sam. Upon seeing Rachel, Quinn's face broke into a smile, and she held out an arm for a hug. But Sam stopped them.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he shouted. "No current players beyond this point!"

Rachel sniffed, and Quinn laughed. She rose from the chair and hugged Rachel away from the DM screen. "Is Sam telling you about the game?"

"Pretty much," Quinn said. "He's telling me the backstory about the Steam Rollers."

More of the aforementioned group piled into Sam's dining room. After the usual preparations, the party took their seats. Rachel tried her best to hide her disappointment over the fact that Quinn sat beside Sam, and not beside her.

Yet, she wasn't jealous. Her chest did not ache and burn when she saw Quinn lean over Sam's shoulder to look over his notes. All Rachel felt was excitement in seeing Quinn pay attention and ask questions about the game. As Sam began his narration, Rachel and Quinn locked eyes with each other and they both smiled.

Continuing where they left off, the party descended into the cavern they found in the basement. A week ago, they failed to find the vampire in its mansion, so they decided to delve deeper into the cavernous passageway in hopes that it would lead them to the creature.

"A good ten feet ahead of you, you see that the path opens up into a darker, wider area," Sam said.

"We stop," Tina said immediately. "I have a bad feeling about this."

The party double-checked their skills, the charges of their spells, and their HP. With Artie's orc barbarian leading the charge, and Tina's dark elf ranger bringing up the rear, they performed stealth checks as they approached the opening in the cave system. In its centre, they found lit candles, a dais, and on top of it, coffin.

"Oh boy, oh boy," Brittany bounced in her seat, her hand cupping her d20. "Here we go."

The Steam Rollers approach the dais. Mike's dwarven cleric, however, failed the second stealth check. His character stepped on a pressure plate that caused the lid of the coffin to spring open.

Sam described the appearance of a creature with pale skin, and long, raven hair. The vampire, with her red eyes, looked at every single one of the Steam Rollers. She opened her mouth to speak.

But it wasn't Sam's voice that the Steam Rollers heard.

"You dare trespass and interrupt the peace I have built around myself for millenia?" Quinn drawled. A beat passed, and everyone around the table screamed.

That was how Quinn's character, a human vampire warlock, joined – and completed – the Steam Rollers.

After the session, everyone thrummed with leftover energy. "I can't believe you!" Rachel buried her face against Quinn's torso when Quinn came up beside her while she was still organizing the papers in her binder. "That was what you and Sam were hiding when I found you two at your lockers, wasn't it?"

"He gave me a character sheet to fill out. He even made me watch this show called Critical Role but I only watched a few episodes so far," Quinn said with a grin. "Were you impressed by the voice I did?"

"I was," Rachel looked up at the blonde in unabashed adoration. "Welcome to the party."

Quinn giggled. "Thanks. This was pretty fun. I'm glad I decided to try it."

Rachel squeezed Quinn's waist. "Me too."

Sorry I forgot to format the mid-chapter breaks. This website is unruly af.