Hello! Gosh, it's been ridiculously long since my last update, don't you think? As I had mentioned in my last Author's Note, real life has been insanely busy, and no, it hasn't actually let up yet. While I enjoy being busy, it has kept me from being able to write in my preferred style of writing chunks of pages at a go, which explains why it's taken this long to get Chapter 27 up. I would like to thank my readers, especially because not a single one of you sent me a message along the lines of 'Hurry the hell up, woman!' In fact, I received nothing but positive reviews and feedback, for which I am eternally grateful. You guys are the best!

So yes, Rachel won her first Slam. I know some readers thought it was a bit soon, but to be honest it's how I had always planned things to work out. I would like Rachel to enter the 2013 season with the pressure of not only having to defend ranking points but the added expectations that come with winning a Major. You know, to see how she handles being one of the hunted, while also navigating everything else that comes with being a teenager.

On a Faberry-related note, I think my protagonist will have more time to stop and smell the roses now that she has a Slam under her belt. I don't think many people realise just how much an athlete can resemble a horse with blinders until they have truly accomplished something big. After all, its what their whole existence up till that point has been geared towards, all the hours they put into training, getting physically fit, sleeping right, and a whole bunch of sacrifices the rest of us can't fathom. I think Rachel will become more observant of the world around her from this point on. I hope that translates to the pages I write.

As always, thank you to everyone that clicked the follow/favourite boxes, and sent me feedback. A Perfect Match now has close to 300 followers, and has been favourited just over 100 times. I can barely believe it myself. I wanted to quickly apologise to my reviewers about the spelling mistakes in some of my replies to feedback. That's what happens when you hit send before reading through what you've written (and autocorrect decides that 'right' and 'write' are the same thing :p)

Finally, the US Open just ended and I don't think anyone predicted Pennetta taking home the women's trophy! But what a way to announce your retirement. And I know I'm not the only one who felt truly happy for Vinci after she defeated Serena. The Italian is hard to dislike, and its nice that she got at least one massively big win in her career, even if she couldn't win the actual title. As for Serena, well, she didn't need a Calendar Year Slam to prove she's right up there amongst the best the sport has ever seen. The fact that she got that close speaks volumes about her talent. And yes, being a Roger fan I'm a bit gutted he didn't win, but hey, c'est la vie.

And now, here's the update. I look forward to hearing your thoughts :)

Rachel walked into the main clubhouse of the Billie Jean King National Tennis Center and felt goose bumps erupt on her arm when she was met with the sight of her own face grinning back at her. The framed larger-than-life glossy picture was taken just after Rachel was handed her shiny new trophy, and for a moment the brunette was transported back to that magical night at the Arthur Ashe Stadium. Her gaze drifted slightly to the left where Sebastian Smythe looked just as pleased in his own frame, his fingers white and bloodless as they gripped the trophy he'd won for defeating Cooper Anderson in a four-set battle that was much closer than the final score suggested. Rachel had met her fellow champion at a photo-shoot arranged by the USTA on the morning after the men's final, and recalled wondering if she looked as giddy as the Australian as they posed alongside one another, still holding on to their shiny prizes, atop the Empire State Building.

The brunette marched onwards to her destination, smiling politely at the few people milling about the relatively empty foyer, when she stopped in her tracks at the sound of a squeal. Looking up she saw a group of people emerging from the hallway that led to the women's locker rooms, with a young Asian woman literally pointing at the American teenager. Rachel already knew she was looking at a tour group enjoying a behind-the-scenes look at the tennis facility when the guide stepped forward and headed straight for Rachel.

"Hello, Ms. Berry," the middle-aged man said politely, smiling down at her. "May I first congratulate you on winning your first Major."

Rachel blinked. It had been over two weeks, and she still couldn't believe it herself. She quickly ran her eyes over the name tag the man was wearing over his left breast pocket before meeting his eyes with a smile of her own, "Thank you, Dave."

The man, Dave, gestured to the group behind him, "Would you mind signing a couple of autographs and maybe taking a few pictures? I know it'll make this tour extra special for these guys."

"It'll be my pleasure," Rachel grinned.

It was a good fifteen minutes before she was on her way again, and this time she stared down at her phone as she walked. The American champion had asked to take a picture of her own with Dave after she was done obliging the autograph and photograph seekers, and was uploading the shot to her Twitter account as she headed to the Players' Lounge. 'The good folks at the Billie Jean King National Tennis Center work just as hard even when the eyes of the tennis world aren't fixated on them,' she captioned the image, before uploading the tweet to share with her half-a-million followers and pocketing her phone.

The brunette continued onwards to the Players' Lounge, marveling at how quiet the tennis facility was compared to the hustle and bustle of just a few weeks ago. The New Yorker had trained at the facility for years as a junior, but even then the place had seemed fuller thanks to the chatter of her fellow Academy protégés and the coaches and trainers that mentored them. This eerie silence was definitely new, and not how Rachel would like to remember place.

Stepping into the Players' Lounge, she smiled at the sight of Quinn Fabray bent over an open book placed on a table, a pencil in her right hand moving swiftly across the page. The teenager glanced at her watch, wondering just when the blonde had gotten to the tennis center when she herself was still a quarter of an hour early to the meeting they were both there for. She slowly approached the World No.1, who still hadn't registered her presence in the room, her memory reminding her that the book Quinn was bent over appeared to be the same one she'd seen her holding in Paris and spotted lying around her Cincinnati apartment a couple of months ago. Not wanting to startle the other woman, Rachel gently cleared her throat as she headed to the leather couch Quinn was half sitting on with her body angled towards the table before her.

Sure enough, hazel eyes were upon her in an instant, before the blonde's face broke out into a smile. Shutting the book, which the brunette noted was indeed the same leather journal she'd seen a few times before, Quinn propped the pencil behind her ear and stood to embrace her fellow tennis player. "Hey Rach," she husked.

"Hey yourself", the brunette smiled against her friends cheek, allowing herself a moment to indulge in the warm hug and smell of strawberries that wafted off the blonde's hair before stepping off her tiptoes and taking a seat. "You're early."

Quinn gave a shrug of her shoulders as she too sat back down, "My flight got in a little ahead of time. I was thinking of checking in with Frannie at Cheerio but I figured she'd be smashed with the lunch rush, so I just came straight here."

Rachel nodded, following the logic, "The restaurant has been getting some good reviews."

Quinn looked proud, "Yeah. Frannie and her team have been working hard."

"It's definitely paying off," Rachel smiled, "My parents tried getting a table there last night, and couldn't. Of course, they only called at six o'clock, but that's still pretty amazing for a Tuesday night."

"You should have called me," Quinn said, a tiny frown line appearing between her eyebrows. "I could have gotten them a table."

Rachel laughed lightly, "It's ok Quinn, it wasn't the end of the world for Daddy and Papa."

"That's not the point" Quinn replied, her features indignant. "Your friend owns the restaurant, which basically means you can get a table in seconds even if there's a line half-a-mile long out the door."

The brunette took a deep breath before admitting, "Ok, I did consider it. I just didn't…" she trailed off, before letting out a little huff.

"You didn't want me to think you were taking advantage of me" Quinn finished for her, and Rachel nodded begrudgingly. Quinn shook her head, her expression softening, "Rach, if you were someone I barely ever saw or spoke to that called me out of the blue to ask me for a favour then yes, I'd probably have some reservations about getting you a reservation." The brunette smiled at her friend's obvious play on words. "But, seeing that I get more texts from you than I do from my own mother, I think it's absolutely fine for you to ask for my help with something as trivial as getting a table at Cheerio. It's not like you're asking me for a kidney. Capish?" she finished, her eyes playfully narrowed at the teenager.

"Capisco," the young brunette relented.

Quinn sat back in her chair, her expression smug, "Good. Let me know when your fathers want to go to Cheerio and I'll make the reservation. And tell them this one's on the house." Rachel protested, but Quinn simply raised an eyebrow and asked, "Do you really want to lose another argument?"

It was Rachel's turn to glare at Quinn, "Sometimes I want to strangle you."

"Yeah, I always thought you'd be the kind to resort to underhanded means to win," Quinn quipped back, causing Rachel's eyes to widen as she let out a gasp. The blonde roared at her reaction, leaning her head back against the couch as she laughed. Rachel stared at her profile, a smile tugging at her own lips at the sight of Quinn's arched throat bobbing up and down as she giggled.

Quinn's laughter hadn't subsided yet when Marley Rose and Emma Pillsbury entered the Players' Lounge and walked towards the two women. "Did she start drinking early today?" Marley asked in lieu of a proper greeting as she took the armchair closest to Rachel.

"Oh ha ha" Quinn replied drily, wiping her eyes as she sat up straight. "Hey Emma" she greeted the American Fed Cup captain.

"Good morning ladies," the redhead smiled, putting down a folder she was carrying alongside her purse. "I'm glad you could make it. Stephens and Bells are already in Seoul for the start of the year's Asian-swing so it's just going to be the three of us today." The trio nodded their understanding as Emma went on, "To be honest I could have spoken to the three of you individually but, as you Quinn and you Marley already know, I prefer meeting my players together and face-to-face. Rachel, now you know too," she smiled kindly at he newcomer.

Emma opened her folder, and uncapped a pen before looking up at Quinn, "When do you head to Asia?"

"On the 23rd," Quinn replied.

"To Tokyo?" Emma frowned. "I was under the impression that Marley was the top seed there."

"So was I," Marley threw in, looking mildly confused.

"I'm leaving for Asia on the 23rd, but I'm going to Singapore first" Quinn clarified with a wave of her hand. "Sponsors stuff," she added.

"Ah, ok" Emma said, now looking all caught up, "So you're playing Beijing, right?"

"Yes, and then Moscow and Istanbul" Quinn stated.

"And you're playing Tokyo, Beijing, Moscow and Istanbul, is that correct?" Emma addressed Marley, who nodded.

"What about you?" the captain asked Rachel.

"My schedule is the same as Marley's," the young brunette answered.

"Oh right, you qualified for Turkey too," Marley said, her eyes bright. "Congratulations!"

"Thank you. I can barely believe it," Rachel said.

"I don't blame you. It's quite the feat to pull off in your freshman year. I only qualified for the first time last year. It's an amazing experience. I think you'll have a great time," the taller brunette said.

Emma cleared her throat before getting their discussion back on track, "Well, Stephens and Bells will both be playing the main draws in Tokyo and then at least the qualifying rounds of Beijing and Moscow, so everyone's schedules overlap for the most part. They will also be playing in Osaka the week after Beijing, which is why we've set up our weeklong camp there. I was hoping the five of you could try and hit together a few times when you're on the road, in pairs and even doubles teams. All the tennis centers you'll be playing at have designated clay courts, and I encourage you to have a hit on them if you feel they won't really affect your play in the hard court tournaments you'll be competing in. If switching back and forth from hard to clay gets too tough then try and get some doubles play on the hard courts so the five of you get a better understanding of each other's games. That'll help me decide on our doubles pair for Paris."

The trio of players nodded, and Quinn asked, "Will you be staying with us after Osaka?"

"Yes," the redhead answered, "I'll travel to Moscow and Istanbul before the three of you fly over to France. That way I can supervise some more of your practice sessions. Stephens and Bells will come back stateside for a few days while you three compete at the year-end championships and then meet us in Paris."

"Do we know what the French squad is going to look like?" Rachel wondered out loud.

"Fleur Delacour is a definite for two singles rubbers," Emma said, glancing down at her notes, "and I believe Mauresmo will pick Danielle Fournier to play the other two singles matches."

"Not Alex Vause?" Quinn asked.

"No. I don't think she's completely match fit yet after her long injury lay off, especially for something as grueling as two singles matches on clay two days apart. If anything, I think Vause will play doubles alongside Sophia Burset. Or Gabrielle Delacour. We aren't the only ones with an undecided doubles team," Emma replied.

The redhead glanced at the three women, "In the spirit of complete honesty, I should let the five of you know that at this point it's looking like Quinn and Rachel will play the singles matches, and Marley, I'm thinking you and Bells will be our doubles team. I know you're the higher ranked player, but I think Rachel's game is better suited to the clay court."

"I'd guessed as much," Marley said, her body language indicating that she had anticipated the call.

"That said, I want all of you to train just as hard for the singles as well as the doubles. You never know who might pick up an injury, or who will crumble under nerves. I'd like to have all my options open. And Marley, I don't think you have a terrible clay court game. In fact, with a little bit of tweaking I really think you'll be hard to beat on dirt," Emma finished sincerely, looking Marley in the eye.

"Feel free to point out the necessary tweaks, Cap!" Marley grinned, prompting the other women to laugh at her enthusiasm. "Quit laughing, Fabray," Marley said, mock glaring at the blonde, "I might just beat you to a French title. You too, Berry!"

"Yes, well, we'll see what happens in eight months," Emma said, smiling. She pulled some DVD cases out of a sleeve in her folder and began handing them out to the girls, "Right now, here is some footage of our expected French opponents. I've pointed out what I think are the strengths and weaknesses in their games, but feel free to let me know if you think I've missed anything."

Rachel took the case that bore her name. "I have also analyzed what I think are the strengths and weaknesses of your own games. Which is why you each have personalized DVDs," the captain added.

The teenager placed her case in her purse, and observed Quinn and Marley storing theirs away in their bags too. "I really think we have a shot at winning the title this year. We certainly have the players for it. I still can't believe I have three Grand Slam champions on my squad! It's just a question of bringing our best games on the day," Emma said.

The trifecta of current players listened intently as Emma went over travel arrangements from Istanbul to France, and informed the players they could bill their hotel stays to the USTA in the event they stuck around in Japan, China or Russia to train with the other members of the Fed Cup squad after losing at the respective tournaments. Rachel seriously doubted whether any of the three of them would take the offered money from the USTA but thought it was nice that the organization would look after Stephens and Bells, who weren't as financially secure as the three Grand Slam champions. People often underestimated just how expensive a sport tennis was, with player's having to pay for their own travel and stay across the globe as well as the travel and accommodation bills of their coaches, who were also salaried. Honestly, if you weren't in the top fifty than you really weren't taking much money to the bank.

Emma moved on to checking that all the players had been measured for their uniforms and team kits, and informed them that the clothes would be delivered to them on arrival in France. Finally she asked if the women wanted tickets reserved for their families or staff, and if so, how many. Marley was the only one who asked for tickets for her parents, while Quinn and Rachel declined the offer.

Emma glanced at her notes, "Alright, well that just about sums up everything I wanted to talk about. I'll have the information typed up and sent out by this weekend, just so there's no confusion at any point. Did any of you have any questions?"

Rachel, Quinn and Marley all glanced at each other before shaking their heads in the negative. "Ok. Well, all of you have my number, so feel free to call me or text if you do have any questions, ok?" Emma asked, her gaze stopping briefly on each woman. She nodded once when they all bobbed their heads at her and closed the folder that was now in her lap, "So, what does everyone have planned for the rest of this lovely day?"

Marley was the first to answer, glancing down at her wristwatch, "I'm actually watching the Dolphin's play the Raider's tonight and have a flight to catch, so I should probably get going."

"Wish Finn good luck from me, will you?" Quinn said, watching the dark haired woman stand up.

"I will. It's a pity you aren't coming along to feed the press' love triangle obsession," Marley smirked.

Quinn rolled her eyes, "Yeah, I figured I'd let them get creative for a change. A tiny piece of their collective imagination dies a little bit every time the three of us show up at the same place."

Emma, who had been quickly typing something into her phone, looked up and laughed, "I'm so glad the Internet wasn't such a beast back when I was playing." Her smile disappeared when she received glares from the other three women, and Rachel was reminded of a deer in headlights as she took in the redhead's wide eyes. "Sorry," Emma offered, even though her eyes still held a twinkle.

"Ok, gotta go. Quinn, are we still doing dinner at yours Wednesday?" Marley said, bouncing on the balls of her feet while looking down at the women.

"Yeah. You guys can bring dessert," the blonde answered.

"Will do. And I'll see you in Tokyo, Rachel. When exactly do you get there?" Marley asked, slinging her oversized bag around her shoulder.

"Early on the 22nd," Rachel replied.

"Mmm," Marley said, looking thoughtful, "one day after me. Well, I'll see you there. And I'll see you soon too, Emma. Toodles, ladies." And with that, she left.

"That's one. What are you two doing for the rest of the day?" Emma asked after Marley was out of sight.

Quinn shrugged, "I'm heading back to Miami after I see my sister at the restaurant. She wants me out of there before dinner service."

"Oh yeah, congratulations on that," Emma said, "Will's sister went there a few nights after you opened and she praised it so much that we tried it last weekend too. I was so excited to see all the gluten free options you have. And the food was delicious too. It was like finding heaven!"

"You can't be an athlete and not have healthy choices on the menu at your own food joint," Quinn smiled. "I'm glad you enjoyed your meal."

The two women turned their attention to Rachel, who realized it was her turn to answer Emma's question, "Uh, I live here, so I'll probably just head home and lounge around till my father's come back from work. You know, the usual – dinner, TV, early to bed, early to rise for training."

"Yeah, Sue wants me out on court at seven tomorrow morning too," Quinn sighed. "What about you, Emma?"

Emma had the expression of someone that was waiting for that exact question, "I'm waiting for Will to come get me. We're going to look at a possible wedding venue today."

Emma had begun dating the USTA's Chief of Player Development just weeks after taking over as the American Fed Cup captain in 2009, and thanks to the wonders of social media it was common knowledge that he had popped the question while the pair had been in Italy earlier that year. "When's the big day?" Rachel asked.

"Well, it depends on the availability of the venue we decide to go with. But we were hoping for the 2013 off-season, ideally around the end of November or early December," Emma replied, the joy in her breezy voice apparent. She looked down at her phone when it vibrated in her hands. "Oh, I should switch that off silent mode now" she muttered, almost to herself, before checking the message she'd just received. "He's here."

Rachel watched the redhead gather her things before rising from her seat. "Thanks again for making yourselves available to see me today. And good luck in Asia. I'll see you guys in a few weeks."

The duo thanked her, and Quinn threw in a "Good luck to you too. You know, with the venue hunt." Rachel watched Emma leave the room before turning her gaze to Quinn, and found the blonde already watching her. For a moment the brunette was taken aback by the intensity of her stare, her own eyes taking in the intelligence that shone through those eyes. That's when it really hit teenager how much she'd missed seeing Quinn over the past couple of weeks. And that she really wasn't ready to part ways with the blonde just yet. She was wondering how to ask the World No. 1 if she wanted to stay in the Players' Lounge and talk for a while longer when the older woman opened her mouth to speak.

"I haven't eaten lunch, have you?"

Fifteen minutes later Rachel was looking around Tortilleria Nixtamal while she and Quinn stood in one corner of the little diner, waiting for their orders to be prepared. "How did you know this place existed?" the brunette asked.

"Santana," Quinn replied.

"Why am I not surprised?" the younger woman said, smiling as she shook her head.

Quinn shrugged, "The woman has a real talent for finding the best places to eat in practically every part of the world. And what's really amazing is that most of the time the places she finds are not what you'd expect to be eating in that geographical location. Like, she found this amazing Thai food place in Doha. And, oh my God, she discovered this fantastic Korean joint in Charleston, of all places."

Rachel raised her eyebrows, "I guess that would explain all the food pictures Brit's been putting up this past week."

"Oh, no," Quinn shook her head, "that was just stuff Santana's abuela's cooked while they've been there." Rachel's eyebrows went even higher if possible, and the blonde laughed at her expression, "I know, the woman can cook! And she keeps piling stuff on to your plate even when you say you're full, usually after your third plate. I suspect San and Brittany have been spending even more time on court and in the gym to work it all off. I know I have to when the tour is in Barcelona."

The two women returned to the counter when their orders were called and walked out the door with their takeaway food. They made the short walk to Corona Park, and sat down on a bench overlooking its famous Unisphere to enjoy their meals. Rachel bit into her taco and literally moaned as she chewed on her first bite. Quinn glanced at her with a knowing smile, "I know, right?" She offered the brunette a bite of her own tamale, trying the taco in exchange, and both women agreed that it was hard to pick which order was better.

Rachel hadn't felt this relaxed in a while. Sighing happily, she leaned back against the bench and watched the water fountain jets dance as she ate. She felt the bench move when Quinn mimicked her by moving back, and for a few moments the two women just sat there in companionable silence. It was the blonde who broke the quiet, "I saw you on Letterman last week."

Rachel turned her head towards Quinn, peering past the shadow the blonde's baseball hat threw over her hazel eyes and thinking that it made Quinn's hazel eyes seem deceptively darker. "Yeah? Did I look as nervous as I felt?"

Quinn let out a melodious laugh, "No. If anything, it looked like you had the audience eating out of your hand."

"Liar," Rachel said, smiling fondly at her friend. "Did you like my Top Ten list?"

"Yeah," Quinn grinned, "I think the 'When it gets quiet, I can hear the Mets being booed' one was my favourite. But that's probably because I'm a Cubs loyalist."

The pair fell silent again, and Rachel ducked her own head lower to hide behind her own cap when a couple glanced in their direction. She discretely watched them walk away, glad that she and Quinn hadn't been recognized. "Did your life change drastically after you won your first Slam too?"

"Oh yeah," Quinn said, exhaling loudly. "I think I gave television interviews for a solid week after getting back to this part of the world. And I signed five new endorsement deals just on the flight back from London."

Rachel nodded, "I've signed four, and I have to meet Jesse tomorrow to discuss some new offers."

"Mmm. As brutal as it sounds, you never know when you're going to win another Slam. That's why agents and reps work extra hard to milk it after you've won your first Major. Or at least that's what I've been told. Sort've a case of making hay while the sun shines," Quinn shrugged.

Rachel finished the last of her taco, staring up at the Unisphere as she swallowed. She saw Quinn follow her line of sight out of the corner of her eye and heard the blonde comment, "I think it's so amazing that this structure's been around since the mid sixties."

The brunette let out a little laugh as a memory came rushing back to her. Feeling Quinn's gaze on her, she turned to meet questioning eyes, "I watched Men in Black back when I was four and cried when I saw it being destroyed by the alien spacecraft. Daddy and Papa had to drive me here to show me that it was just a movie trick and the Unisphere was actually okay." She blushed at Quinn's aww. "It's always been one of my favourite places in New York. I'd often come here after training at the tennis centre."

Quinn looked thoughtful, "Why did you stay here, and not go to the Boca Raton training center? Or Carson?"

Rachel shrugged, "I was given the choices. But I opted to stay here and be home schooled while I trained at the training center. I guess I just didn't want to leave my parents." Quinn nodded, seeming to understand her choice. "Didn't Marley go to Boca Raton?"

"Yeah. She's the standout from her batch," Quinn replied. "And I think Cici has been the highest ranked player from her batch at Carson."

The sound of Aretha Franklin's voice filled the air, crooning 'We said, "Sisters are doin' it for themselves.Standin' on their own two feet, and ringin' on their own bells. We said, "Sisters are doin' it for themselves'. The brunette watched with mild amusement as the music got louder when Quinn pulled her phone out of her bag and answered it just as the first line began to repeat itself. "Hey Fran," Quinn spoke into the mouthpiece. "I was just grabbing a bite with Rachel." She paused and looked at the teenager, "Frannie says hello. She says hi back Fran." Rachel could hear Francine's muffled voice emerge from the phone, and watched Quinn glance at her wristwatch, "Does 3:30 sound okay? I fly out at 7." A pause, then, "Alright, I'll see you soon. Love you. Bye." She ended the call.

"I love the ringtone" Rachel smiled, her eyes bright.

Quinn put her phone back into her bag and grinned at her friend, "What can I say? I have great taste in music. Plus the only other sisters-related song I could think of was the one from White Christmas, and I thought this one was more apt."

Rachel grinned, "Hey, anything by Aretha has my stamp of approval!" She spotted a dark-haired man peering at the pair of them with some interest, "Do you need to get going so you can see Francine at 3:30?"

"Yeah, I probably should," Quinn replied, and Rachel thought she could sense some disappointment in her tone. The two women stood up and began to walk side-by-side to the street, throwing their rubbish into a bin on their way out of the park. Rachel was glad to see the man hadn't followed them.

"Thank you for lunch," the brunette said, "and introducing me to the place. I'll definite go back there."

"You're welcome," Quinn replied, turning to smile at the shorter woman. "Thanks for coming with. Food is more enjoyable in fine company."

Rachel felt her face heat up at the off-handed compliment, and ducked her head to hide the blush she knew was on her cheeks behind the bill of her cap. If Quinn noticed the blush, she didn't say mention it. Instead, the blonde simply remarked, "Please remember to ask your fathers when they would like to eat at Cheerio, and let me know."

Rachel nodded as the women came to a stop on the sidewalk, and Quinn raised her hand to hail a taxi. Mere seconds later a cab came to a halt before them, prompting Rachel to discreetly roll her eyes, 'Of course you'd have no problem getting a cab the one time you aren't in a tearing rush.' She looked up in surprise when Quinn pulled the door open for her, and with a flourish of her hand indicated that Rachel should get in.

The brunette hesitated for a split second before turning to face the blonde and wrapping her arms around her shoulders in a parting hug. She felt Quinn's own free arm circle her waist, and found herself enjoying one last whiff of the scent of strawberries that still clung to the blonde. Rachel pulled back, and stared up at Quinn, "See you in China."

Quinn's eyes seemed to search her face for a moment, her expression soft, before she nodded, "Good luck in Tokyo. I'll text you the details of this great sushi place San and I found there a few years ago. I mean, sushi places are a dime a dozen there, but this one is particularly good. Or at least I think so."

The brunette smiled at her friend's thoughtfulness as she turned and stepped into the taxi. She peered out of the half rolled down window when Quinn closed the door behind her, "Have a safe flight home, Quinn."

The World No. 1 nodded, lifting her right hand in a half wave as the cab began to move. Rachel kept her eyes on the blonde's form in the rearview mirror, noticing how a rapidly shrinking Quinn kept her own gaze fixed on the moving vehicle for a few moments longer before raising her hand to hail a second cab.