Hello everyone :) So, there are now over one hundred reviews to this story, and more than one-hundred-and-fifty followers. Thank you to each and every one of you that has taken the time to write me some feedback, or even just words of encouragement. And thanks to everyone that's followed or favourited this story. A Perfect Match has almost reached the half-century mark of favourites, which is very encouraging. I hope the story continues to meet everyone's expectations.

I know that slow-building stories can get frustrating, but I'm doing my best to keep each chapter interesting in it's own way. Obviously Rachel and Quinn will interact more as they begin to play at the same level more often, as opposed to Rachel going off to play smaller tournaments like she did when her ranking wasn't as high. It might not be pretty from a Faberry point of view, but it sure is realistic! I have gotten lots of feedback from tennis fans that say the story is accurate, and I rank that amongst the highest praise.

Also, a few people have said that they'd like me to update more often, but to be honest, once a week is the best I can do. You see, it takes me a few hours to write each chapter, and there are other things that need my attention during the week. However, many of you are glad that I update regularly as promised, so that's a plus!

Well, those were my notes for the week. Now how about you head on down to the update! Happy reading :)

A receptionist rose to greet Rachel as she entered the building. The woman had clearly been expecting the tennis player, and quickly led her through another set of doors into a hallway that had yet more doors, both to the left and to the right. Rachel followed the woman, glancing briefly into an open door to her left that seemed to be buzzing with a flurry of activity.

The back wall of the room was covered from end-to-end with a large white backdrop, with large artificial lights aimed at the plain sheet. There were more lights hanging from the ceiling above the sheet, and someone was testing out a camera flash on the ground in front of it. From what Rachel could tell, everyone in the room was wearing black jeans, t-shirts and sneakers. Some of the room's inhabitants caught her interested gaze as she slowed down to peek in the room, and smiled at the young brunette.

Ahead of her, the receptionist opened a door on the right, and held it open for Rachel to pass through. The tennis player entered, taking in the row of individual mirrors all surrounded by little flashbulbs. There were professional makeup chairs in front of every mirror, and a few dozen white dresses hung from a clothes rack at the far end of the room.

"You're the first one here, but don't worry, the makeup team should be along shortly." The receptionist pointed to another door in the room, next to the clothes rack, "The changing rooms are through there. And there's a dining area set up to one side of the studio, if you were after breakfast or a beverage. Is there anything I can get you while you wait? A coffee, perhaps? Or a tea?"

Rachel shook her head, politely, "No thanks. I ate breakfast before I came here."

The receptionist nodded, "Alright then, Ms. Berry. There's an intercom by the door, so please feel free to buzz me if you need anything." And with that, the receptionist marched out of the room.

Rachel sat down in one of the high chairs, and reached out for a stack of magazines on the counter. She couldn't say she was surprised to realize that all the magazines were tennis-related. The American selected the newest edition of Sport's Illustrated, and turned to a page that she had memorized. Staring down at a picture of herself, Rachel thought, 'Yup, looking at yourself in a magazine does not get old.'

The door behind her opened and Rachel, almost guiltily, closed the magazine. Hoping she wasn't blushing, the tennis player turned around to see the receptionist holding the door open for a tall, pale man.

"Thanks sweetheart" the man said, side-eyeing the receptionist. "I've got it from here." He turned his full attention on Rachel as the door closed behind him, "Rachel Berry, I'm Kurt Hummel". Rachel shook the hand he offered as he continued, "I will be your liaison at Adidas. And can I just say again, we're so happy that you opted to sign with us."

Yes, Rachel had made the decision to sign with the German sportswear giant. The fast rising tennis star had also fielded offers from Nike, Reebok, Uniqlo and Asics, and had sat down with her parents to consider every offer. The offer's from each company were similar in the up front money being offered and the bonus' for match and tournament wins, but in the end Adidas had offered her the one thing the other brands couldn't – the chance to train with Steffi Graf at the company's annual training camp in Las Vegas, which was a part of their Adidad Player Development Program. After that, Rachel couldn't sign on the dotted line fast enough.

Adidas wanted to cash in on Rachel's growing popularity by making her a part of its Wimbledon campaign. Which would explain why Rachel was here, in a studio in Central London, barely two days after she had signed her deal.

"I'm happy to be part of the Adidas family too, Mr. Hummel" Rachel said.

"Mr. Hummel? Darling please, I'm barely older than you. Call me Kurt."

Rachel nodded, but Kurt had already taken off in the direction of the clothes rack. "So, you'll be wearing our Stella McCartney line, which FYI, is fabulous" Kurt said, sifting through the dresses as he spoke. "Wimbledon's always a bit hard, what with all the colour restrictions, but I think you'll find that the design of this dress makes enough of a fashion statement", he added, pulling out a dress.

Rachel got her first look at the dress in his hands as he turned. It certainly looked pretty, all white with the Adidas logo in orange in the middle of the chest area. Rachel reached out to touch it when Kurt stopped in front of her.

"It's made from our climalite fabric, which you will find keeps sweat away from your skin." Turning the dress around, Kurt showed her the gap in material at the back, "The top part of the dress contains an inbuilt sports bra, and there's this sliver of a gap where it ends. Petty chic, huh?"

Rachel nodded again, her eyes still trained on the dress. "And for your shoes, we'll be giving you the Adidas Barricade 7's. They should be here later this afternoon, express from our headquarters in Herzogenaurach. I think you'll find that the kit will help bring out your best tennis" he finished.

Rachel met his gaze, and smiled, "Thank you Kurt."

Kurt returned her smile then looked around the quiet room, "Well, no one else is here yet, so why don't we sit down and get to know each other while we wait. After all, I think we're going to be seeing a fair bit of one another."

He sat down in the chair next to Rachel, and the two began to chat. Rachel learned that Kurt was twenty-four year's old, was based at Adidas' North American headquarters in Portland, and had weaseled his way into a job at the company after interning there right after getting a fashion marketing degree from the Parson's Fashion School in New York. Rachel knew enough about the school to be very impressed by Kurt's credentials.

The two were chatting like old friends by the time the door opened again, and what seemed like a gale force swept into the relatively still room. "Why am I always here before the bloody makeup team, Lady Hummel?" Santana Lopez asked. She quickly acknowledged Rachel with a "Hey, Berry", before turning her gaze back on Kurt.

For her part, Rachel didn't know whether to be offended for Kurt, or scared for him. Returning Santana's greeting, she watched nervously as Kurt took a deep breath before replying, "Because they're used to working with actors and models, who are always late. Believe me, I've told them over and over again that sportsmen are a different breed of people, but they refuse to believe me."

Rachel held her breath as the Latina approached the still-seated Kurt, and towered over him. Santana glared down at the man for a moment, before breaking into what could pass as a smile as she ruffled his hair. "You're just lucky I like the clothes you bring me, Kurt."

"Santana! Quit messing with the do!" Kurt shrieked, which only made Santana do it again before she took a seat in the chair on the other side of Rachel.

"Quit complaining, and check on the makeup team Kurt. Some of us have a tournament to prepare for, right Berry?" Santana said, staring at her own reflection in the mirror.

Kurt nodded and rose, all the while trying to fix his now very disheveled hair. He was halfway out the door when Santana called after him, "And bring me a donut on your way back!"

The Latina looked at Rachel in the mirror, "So, long time, no see Berry."

Rachel met her gaze, "Yeah, it's been a while. Congratulations on winning the French."

The Latina acknowledged her congratulations with a nod of her head, before replying, "You did well too. A quarterfinal showing on your debut is impressive. And from what I saw, you almost had Q beat." She kept going before Rachel could thank her, "Of course, I won on my debut, and have still to actually lose at Roland Garros, but hey, who's counting?", she finished with a wink.

Rachel shook her head, amused at the Spaniard's cockiness, and was awarded with a grin from the Latina. Kurt reentered the room, and handed Santana the donut she had asked for, plus a coffee that she hadn't. "Cheers Kurt" the Spaniard said, taking a bite of the sugary treat.

The Adidas rep nodded, "No problem. I've spoken to the makeup team. They're just parking."

"Ok" Santana said, already on her second mouthful of donut. "By the way, who else is coming today?"

"Well, you and Rachel are the first one's in, and then we have Delacour and Chan coming in at eleven-thirty, by which point you two should be in the studio. And then we have Wozniaki and Cohen-Chang coming in at two" Kurt answered.

The Latina turned to look at Rachel, "Who did your friend Brittany sign with?"

"Asics" Rachel replied, and thought she saw a flash of disappointment cross the Spaniard's face.

Santana popped the last bit of donut into her mouth, before asking Kurt "No guys today?"

Kurt shook his head, "No, we've scheduled the men in for tomorrow."

One of the people from the studio came into the room looking for Kurt and took him out to the shooting floor, which left Rachel alone with Santana. This time it was the American who broke the silence, "So, how have you been, Santana?"

The Latina shrugged, "Can't complain. I'm glad the clay court season is over though, it seems to be the busiest time of the year. I got to take a quick holiday after Paris, which was nice."

"Yeah?" Rachel asked, "Where did you go?"

"Los Angeles" Santana stated, adding "I promised my kid sister that I'd take her to Disneyland".

"Aww, that was nice of you" Rachel cooed, which only caused Santana to frown.

"I don't do nice, Berry. She kept bugging me, and it was the only way to get her to shut up" the Latina huffed.

"If that's what you tell yourself, Lopez", Rachel smirked.

Her sassiness caused a break in Santana's armour, "I knew you had some bite to you! Ha, wait till I tell Q", the Spaniard grinned.

The mention of the blonde's name reminded Rachel that she had still to contact the World No. 1. "Why would you tell Quinn that I have "bite"?", she asked, making air quotes around the last word.

"Because Fabray thinks you're polite, well-mannered and sweet, and nothing gives me more pleasure than routinely bursting that woman's bubble" Santana replied, as if the answer was obvious.

Rachel's chest swelled with joy at the knowledge that Quinn had obviously discussed her with the Latina, at least once. Her happiness must have been clear to see, because Santana raised an eyebrow and opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a stream of people entering the room.

"Good morning loves! I'm so sorry we're late!" a woman with a strong Cockney accent said as she placed two large makeup cases on the counter between Rachel and Santana. The woman had bright red hair, which made her already pale skin seem practically translucent. Her complexion reminded Rachel of Robert Pattinson's diamond-like sparkling skin from the Twilight movies, and it took all of her self-control to not burst into giggles when the woman introduced herself as Eddie.

From there on things were a blur for a while. Kurt came in, and suggested that the two tennis players get dressed before having their makeup done, which made complete sense seeing that their dresses were white and had to be slipped on over their heads. Rachel was impressed when the dress fit her like a glove, and she knew that she would be very comfortable in it on court.

Once changed, she got back into the chair to get what Santana was calling "war paint". By the time Eddie and her team were done with Rachel, even the American could barely recognize herself. The brunette quite honestly thought the makeup was a bit much, but Eddie assured her that it would hardly show on camera.

Kurt went out to the studio to let the photographer know they were ready, while Eddie and her assistants headed off to have a quick smoke. That left Rachel alone with Santana again, and the American almost died of shock when the Latina wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pointed her cellphone at their faces.

"Smile, Berry. This is going on my Instagram!" Santana said, before pushing the button. "Oops, I should turn my flash off. Ok, let's try that again" the Spaniard said, taking another picture. She looked at her phone screen, before humming in approval, "Yup, we look like two hot bitches."

Rachel watched as she tapped her screen a few times, before pausing to look up at Rachel. "Are you on here?" she asked.

The shorter brunette nodded, "Yup."

Santana rolled her eyes at Rachel's monosyllabic reply, "C'mon, don't leave me in suspense Berry. What's your user name?"

"Berrylicious" Rachel said, her cheeks colouring.

"Wanky" the Latina smirked, winking at Rachel before looking back down at her screen.

A moment later Rachel's own phone made a sound, which turned out to be an alert that 'AuntieSnixx' was now following her on Instagram, and had tagged her in a photograph. Rachel had to admit that she and Santana really did look good in the picture, which was captioned "Berry and I getting dolled up for Wimbledon". And Eddie was right, the makeup barely showed on camera.

Rachel hit the 'Like' button underneath the picture, and had just followed Santana back when the Latina drew her attention with a short laugh.

"Something funny?" Rachel asked.

Santana shook her head, "Nah. I just noticed that Quinn's following you."

"She is?" Rachel asked. This was definitely news to her. How had she not noticed?

"Seriously?!" Santana asked, her face a picture of incredulity as she looked at Rachel. The Latina was stopped from adding to that one word when her phone rang. Looking down at the screen, she let out another bark of laughter before answering the call, "I knew you'd call!"

With Santana now on the phone, Rachel pushed a few buttons on her phone to check her list of followers on Instagram. There was one person in particular that she was looking for.

"Yup, turns out she signed with Adidas too…. Mmm hmm… Hey Berry, Q says hello…" Rachel looked up at the mention of the blonde's name, and was met with the twinkling gaze of a very smug-looking Latina, who didn't actually wait for her to respond, "She says hi back Q… We're about to start the photo shoot… Nah, the one near Tottenham Court Road… Aren't you training this afternoon?... Uh huh, sure…" Santana spoke.

Rachel continued scrolling through the list of her followers, with one ear now firmly tuned into Santana's end of the conversation, and realized that Quinn was indeed following her. The American smiled when she saw her user name, 'TheRealQuinnBee', and immediately followed her back. She was scrolling through the blonde's pictures, hitting the 'Like' button on most of them, when Kurt came back into the room to tell them they were ready for the tennis players in the studio.

Santana rose from her chair and was winding up her call with Quinn when Rachel interrupted her, "Santana, could you please ask Quinn if it's ok for me to get her phone number off you?"

The smug look was back on the Spaniard's face as she spoke into the mouthpiece, "Q, Berry wants your number. Really? Are you sure?"

Rachel wasn't enjoying being at Santana's mercy, but she could tell that the Latina was loving her little power trip. What else could explain that smug look on her tanned features? "Well, if you're sure… Alright, later Q."

Santana ended the call, and stared at Rachel for a long moment before her face cracked into a smirk, "Ok Berry, write this down, and don't make me repeat myself…"