A/N- Thank you for reading! I hope you are all still enjoying this story as much as I am. Thanks for all of your reviews, keep them coming! Special shout outs to MC-GAR-IL, gllover22, gleek462, davinelyfavored69, and ShadowClub for your encouraging reviews on the last chapter! I hope you enjoy this one as well.
The next day Rachel awoke to a wicked cramp in her side and blonde hair covering her face. What the hell? Did I dye my hair last night? Schue will literally kill me. What am I wearing? The brunette grabbed at the weird gown she was wearing and shot upright, well more upright. The bed she was lying in was reclined at an awkward angle.
"Rach, are you ok? Do you need a nurse?" A gravelly voice asked from under the mop of blonde hair. Nurse? Oh God I'm in a hospital. Why am I in a- oh. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks. She had fallen down the trapdoor at work last night and sprained something and bruised something else now she was stuck in the hospital. After the calm of identifying her surroundings and remembering the events of the past 24 hours a new panic set in. Do I need surgery? Am I ever going to be able to dance the same? Will my voice be effected?
All of these thoughts vanished when a hand with chipping purple nail polish lightly grasped her arm. "Lie back down, you don't have to go anywhere today and it's way too early for normal people to be awake."
Rachel let herself be pulled down and snuggled into the blonde's arms, which went instinctively around the singer's waist. From spending a full night in that position it just felt natural as if the taller woman's arms were magnetically attracted to the other woman's waist.
"How are you feeling today?" the blonde asked, burying her face in Rachel's wavy hair.
"Better. That is if you consider feeling like you were dropped by King Kong off the Empire State building and then squished by Shamoo better."
Even at the hospital in the early hours of the morning Rachel retained her trademark sarcasm and there was nothing Quinn found more endearing.
"If it's any consolation you look better than that."
"Aww thanks. Aside from the bed head you don't look too bad yourself. I have to pee like a race horse though... I'll be back." The brunette gingerly stood up, careful not to jostle her ribs too much.
"Don't fall in!' Quinn cheered from the bed.
"Given my current state that is so not funny! I might actually fall in and not be able to get out."
"Well if that does happen give me a holler." the blonde said with a completely straight face. "I do have some experience with you and bathrooms."
Rachel flushed red and gave Quinn a, less than kind, hand gesture before shutting the bathroom door behind her with a little more force than necessary. Shortly after, the seemingly kind nurse from the night before came into the room, chart in hand.
"Where did Ms. Berry get off to? She is supposed to be on bed rest." The nurse shot at Quinn who was suddenly on the defensive, feeling out of place without the brunette at her side.
"Relax, she just went to the bathroom. She has yet to attempt the great hospital escape. We still have to wait for our get-away car for that."
The nurse was not amused.
"Well when your cousin in law gets back, please tell her that she will be discharged later today if her physical goes well."
Quinn did not appreciate the added emphasis and raised eyebrow at the words 'cousin in law'. "Will do m'am." she replied with a small salute.
The nurse turned and left with a huff. She will henceforth be known as nurse Nazi. Quinn thought. It fits her superiority complex and freakish stringency for rule following.
There was a sudden high pitched squeal from the bathroom.
"Rach!" the blonde was up in an instant and outside the door, "Did you fall in?"
"No. I didn't fall in! I just... my face."
"What's wrong with your face?" Quinn jiggled the handle but the door didn't budge. "Unlock the door."
The blonde heard a click and shoved her way inside, nearly tackling Rachel in the process. The singer turned back to the mirror, completely ignoring the sudden intrusion, and going back to staring blankly at the angry red line on her forehead. It was punctuated by a brilliantly white butterfly bandage.
"Rach, it was just a few stitches, they said it wouldn't scar if you use the ointment. It's going to be fine."
"My face..." Rachel reached up and gently touched the injury in disbelief.
"Honey your face looks beautiful. Don't worry about it."
The brunette's head snapped around. "Did you just call me honey?"
Quinn blushed, "Yeah. I guess. Do you want me to not do that?"
"No, I like it." a shy smile graced both of their faces. "Now move out of my way, I feel one story and cracked two ribs. I need to lie down."
"Meaning second to last, this word derives it's meaning from Latin."
"Penultimate!" Quinn yelled excitedly at the TV. Her and Rachel had been laying in bed for the last two hours watching old episodes of Jeopardy. More accurately Quinn had been watching re-runs of Jeopardy and Rachel had been watching Quinn.
"How do you know all of this shit?! Its just unnatural."
"Its what too many AP classes in highschool and a four year degree from an ivy league does to you." the blonde smiled and settled back into the bed.
"You get so frazzled watching Jeopardy. Look at your hair!" the brunette said smiling, Nazi Nurse walked in just as Rachel was tucking some of Quinn's hair behind her ear.
"Ehem!" She cleared her throat loudly while shooting Quinn a disapproving glare, "you have some visitors. Are you up to seeing them?"
"Yes of course!" the brunette replied , tearing her eyes away from Quinn.
"Alright, I'll send them in." Nazi nurse left and returned moments later trailed by Schue and Kurt. "You have half an hour and then we are going to be checking her for discharge."
"Thank You!" Kurt said, clearly trying to kill the horrid nurse with kindness. "How are you doing Rach?"
"Sore and tired, but I'll live." she replied.
Shue pulled a pad and pen out of his shoulder bag and sat down next to the bed, "That's great. Although we have to make a statement for when you get discharged."
"Ok, lets get this over with." This time Quinn didn't feel at all out of place being discovered in bed next to Rachel and stayed in that position through the entire visit. She didn't really pay attention to what the other three were saying but stared blankly at the hospital television and idly stroked the brunette's hair. The phrases unfortunate accident, liable, committed to recovery, and united front, caught in Quinn's head and she had to force herself not to laugh at the formality of the whole thing. Why couldn't Rachel just leave the hospital and tell the stupid reporters, "I fell through a hole, bruised two fucking ribs, cut my head and sprained my wrist. But don't worry I'm not suing the theater and we are opening on time."
A half an hour later the two were being ushered out of the room by the Nazi. "Ms. Fabray, I am afraid to inform you that you are going to have to remove yourself from Ms. Berry's bed so I can perform her out patient physical."
Quinn flushed and reluctantly climbed out of the ridiculously tiny bed but still retained a firm grasp on the singer's hand.
"Please breathe in deeply..."
Ten minutes, one discharge physical, multiple pain medication prescriptions, and several cold glances later Rachel and Quinn were making their way to the waiting room to meet Shue and Kurt again.
"Are you sure you don't want the wheelchair?" Quinn asked for the dozenth time since leaving the room.
"Once again Quinn, I entered this hospital on four wheels, I can leave it on my own two feet. I am Rachel Barbra Berry damn it, I took my dance final at NYADA my senior year with a broken toe. I can do anything with the proper combination of determination, adrenaline, and morphine." the brunette was annoyingly stubborn.
"Ok, and right now you don't have morphine or adrenaline. Just these crappy painkillers and your insane stubbornness."
"Which is all I need considering I won't be dancing for them! Now I refuse to see the paps in a wheelchair!"
The two of them reached the men, Kurt smiled hearing Rachel's last remark, "Ready to do this?" he asked.
"No time like the present. Are they here now?" the brunette asked, craning her neck to see outside.
"Yes, we got calls non-stop last night from magazines, news stations, and even some devoted fans. We told everyone there would be an official press release today." Schue said, adjusting his hair. "The reporters were all held outside to wait."
"Let's go then!" Rachel adjusted her jacket, strengthened her hold on Quinn's hand, and headed off towards the door.
Eyeing this motion Schue knew it could mean nothing but trouble for the theater, the last thing the needed was another 'gay scare' as they had last year resulting in the hiring of multiple beards for several of the actors. He called out to the blonde, "Hey, Quinn I need to ask you something really quickly."
"Ok," she dropped the brunette's hand but shot her a reassuring smile before going back to where the director was nervously toying with his hair.
"You can go ahead Rachel, Kurt stand with her." Schue ushered them out and turned to Quinn, "I don't know what is really going on between you and Rachel but you have obviously become very close in the past few days. But, you cannot endanger the reputation of Rachel or our theater. I don't care what the two of you do in private but do outside of that and it will not be ending well for either of you. I'm not saying this to be mean but it really is what is best for Rachel and the theater. You wouldn't want to endanger her career now would you?" He turned and left Quinn standing there with her jaw on the floor, not quite able to process what she had heard.
When she pulled herself together enough she joined the trio outside, Rachel was already well into her practiced statement. Kurt and Shue flanked her on either side so Quinn just went to stand awkwardly at the fringe of the group of reporters where the brunette could see her. She had just gotten to the description of what had happened.
"Last night there was a malfunction with a part of the stage we are using for one of my stunts," Malfunction my ass, Quinn thought to herself.
"which resulted in my falling several feet under the stage. Thankfully the amazing New York City Fire Department arrived at the theater in record time and bring me to this wonderful hospital where it was discovered that I have two bruised ribs, a sprained wrist, and a small cut on my forehead." Rachel reached up unconsciously and adjusted her freely flowing hair to be sure it covered her stitches.
"None of the injuries are too serious and I didn't need any surgery. After a couple weeks of bed rest and a break from all of the singing and dancing I expect to be right back on stage and we will be pushing on with opening night as scheduled." Oh yes, the theater is the only real important thing, the show must come first. Quinn's internal monologue was laced with a venomous sarcasm. Now just the laundry list of thank-yous.
"I would like to take this opportunity to say a quick thanks to the NY City Fire Department and this hospital for their excellent efforts in aiding me, the theater for their continued support, and my friends and family for getting me thought this scare."
Rachel smiled kindly to the crowd and Kurt lead her away to the waiting car. Schue stayed back to answer any remaining questions. Before joining Kurt and Rachel to the car Quinn shot a wicked glare at the director then wrapped her arm protectively around the brunette woman's shoulders.
"Oh Rach, your bag is on the seat. You left it after the accident and I figured you would want it." the three slid into the small vehicle and the brunette grabbed her bag. Quinn scarcely heard what Kurt was babbling on about, the conversation with Shue overtook her thoughts, How dare he so blatantly threaten her!
The only thing keeping her from ripping the hand to shreds with her tongue and reverting back to her highschool cheer captain self was the fact that he was not only her boss but Rachel's as well
That man will pay for this, she vowed to herself, I don't know how and I don't know when, but he will pay. She was dragged from this line of thought by feeling the brunette suddenly stiffen at her side.
"That went a lot smoother than I thought it would, don't you think?" Kurt asked.
"I think I'm royally fucked." Rachel deadpanned staring at the phone she had just fished out of her bag.
"Did your crazy roommate call you a million times too?" Quinn asked, hardly able to imagine the brunette living with someone like Santana.
"Worse, my crazy parents, and I don't have a roommate. They must have heard about the accident and then called me non-stop. Oh God, and then if they see that statement with the whole 'my family helped me through this' and oh God they are going to kill me." the actress was talking a million miles a minute without stopping for air. "Guess I better call them back." she popped one of her pain pills into her mouth and dry swallowed before hitting the little green dial button.
They picked up on the first ring.
"Hey Daddy... Oh you saw that statement huh?.. Yeah... Don't worry... Yes Daddy, I'm fine, relax, I promise I am totally fine...I was just in the hospital overnight...Yes, for the last time I'm sorry... Well when I was unconscious and being rushed in an ambulance to the hospital my first thought wasn't 'oh wait, let me grab my bag first so I can call my Dads!.. Ok, I'll call you later tonight. Bye Daddy, Love you... Tell Dad I love him too."
During the conversation Rachel's face ranged from that of an apologetic young girl to an angry indignant woman.
"You didn't call your Dads!?" Kurt asked, shell shocked.
"No, it wasn't exactly the first thing on my mind Kurt! Besides, I'm not a child anymore, I don't have to call them every single time something minor happens!"
"You were on the national news betting brought into the hospital by an ambulance! They are going to kill me when they find out that I had your phone... I'm going to die!"
"Kurt just shut up. Nobody is getting killed!"
The car pulled to a stop outside a large apartment building that took Quinn's breath away. The art history student in her came unchained and immediately began analyzing the columns in the front and their obvious classical greek influenced corinthian capitols forming a dual support system with the pendentives of the "Well Quinn?"
She was drawn from her analysis by Rachel's voice in her ear and hand on her arm. "Huh?"
The brunette smiled and repeated herself. "The doctors said I shouldn't be alone tonight in case my ribs prevent me from doing any household actions."
God, she is so clinical. Wait, did she just ask me over?
"Ok." Well if this was happening, I'm not going to make it easy on her.
Rachel shot her an annoyed look, "Quinn, will you please stay with me overnight to make sure I don't fall over and die?"
"Well when you put it that way... Of course, I would be honored to be your own personal life alert system." Though her trademark sarcasm was in full swing, on the inside, Quinn was a bit miffed. We only ever sleep together or spend the night when one of us is somehow incapacitated.
However, the feeling of disappointment was quickly overshadowed by excitement at seeing Rachel's apartment as the two of them exited the car, saying goodbye to Kurt, and heading to the building.
The doorman (Holy shit, she had a doorman) snapped to attention and opened the door for the two of them, "Good afternoon , will you be needing any assistance with your bag?"
"No, Thank you Stan. How many times have I told you to call me Rachel, not Ms. Berry?" she replied in an easy and practiced gesture.
"I reckon the same amount as I have told you that you will always be Ms. Broadway Berry here M'am!"
"Give love to the wife and kids for me Stan!" the brunette called over her shoulder.
"Will do Ms. Berry."
How has this woman managed to totally win over everyone she meets? In college Quinn's RA absolutely hated her after she insisted on showering every day at 4 am, after her morning run. Which was apparently 'too damn early' since the RA's room was right next to the bathrooms and Quinn sang loudly to the shower head...
They entered an elevator with mirrors on the ceiling which Rachel checked her hair in habitually, then reached out to press the button for the top floor. Quinn shot her a raised brow look which the brunette answered with a smirk.
Sure, she rarely flaunted her accumulated wealth from her successful career but the brunette's living conditions was one of those rare occasions where she spared no expense.
When they arrived on the correct floor Rachel led the way out of the elevator to a door at the far end of the hall. Out of her purse, she pulled a keychain and rifled through the keys, the woman doesn't even own a car, how many keys does she need? The brunette found the right one and hastily shoved it in the lock, pushed through the door, and flipped on the entryway light before turning to see Quinn's reaction.
The blonde stepped inside and let out a low whistle. The entryway was simple, painted white with black modern decor, a coat rack and side table where Rachel put her keys. The black and white theme continued down the hall and through the rest of the apartment. Occasional splashed of color coming from the various framed and signed musical posters that adorned the walls or artfully placed flower vases.
"Nice digs Rach."
The brunette laughter and relaxed in the knowledge that Quinn approved. "Thanks, do you want something to eat? I can throw something together for dinner."
"Don't worry, I would hate to put you out."
"Really, its no trouble. I love cooking and haven't eaten solid food since breakfast yesterday." Rachel was already on her way down the hall to the kitchen, Quinn trailing behind. "Are you allergic to anything? I would hate to have to go back to the hospital so soon."
"I'm deathly allergic to my mother, but I wouldn't object if you had her chopped up in your freezer."
"Quinn!" the singer spun around and fixed the taller woman with a gaze of shock, "That is so morbid. you can't possibly dislike your mother that much."
"After the things that woman has done and the things she hasn't she has lost the right to the title of mother and any compassion from me."
Hoping to steer the conversation away from such a heavy topic Rachel replied, "Well, it's very doubtful she would be in my freezer, there's no meat at all. I'm a vegan."
Of course she is. "Don't worry, I'll make a stir-fry, you won't even know you are missing the meat." the short woman was bustling around the kitchen, gathering stainless steel pans and bright vegetables.
"Ok, sounds good." the blonde smiled warmly.
"You can put something on the television if yo would like, the remote is on the coffee table." Oh yes, the fucking imported birch wood coffee table Quinn appraised the expensive piece of furniture.
She flipped on the TV and was met with the vaguely familiar face of a young man with perfect hair and teeth sitting at a posh desk. "It is still unknown how long she will be in rehab this time. But in other hospital related news, what about that Rachel Berry? Broadway's sweetheart gave us all a heart attack last night when she was whisked away from the theater in an ambulance. But this afternoon yours truly got some exclusive information on the song bird's condition."
The screen cut to a video from that morning of Rachel giving her public statement.
Rachel abandoned the food on the stove to stand at Quinn's elbow while they watched the statement together.
"What were you and Schue talking about back then?"
"Nothing." I look seriously pissed on that tape.
"She was rushed from the theater to the hospital last night under suspicious conditions..."Across the screen it cut to a video of Rachel being wheeled into the ER from the ambulance, a voice over from the young man continued.
"I didn't even realize that the reporters were at the hospital at that point." Quinn said quietly.
"They are everywhere all the time. Let's watch a movie instead?" Rachel suggested, the blonde tore her eyes away from the image of Rachel so helpless and broken on the gurney.
"Ok, sounds good. What movies have you got?"
"They are all in that cabinet." the singer pointed and Quinn went to begin rifling through. She was immediately overwhelmed by Barbra Streisand and musicals. It's like a Barbra shrine in here! Submitting to the inevitable she sighed and slid "Hello Dolly" into the DVD player.
"Good choice." Rachel appraised after returning to the stove to watch the stir fry and taking another pill. "Though it's not my favorite."
"Which one is?"
"Funny Girl of course! Its such a pivotal role for Barbra's career and she makes the role her own entirely..."
They fell into the easy conversation of old friends that continued well through dinner and up until Quinn had finally convinced Rachel to watch 'The Breakfast Club' on Netflix. ('I can't believe you haven't seen it! Its revolutionary and like the best movie ever!) The two began innocently enough on opposite ends of the couch, sitting politely as friends do and talking still. Slowly they migrated together, almost without realizing it a had on the leg turned into a gentle lean, which progressed into an abandonment all together of personal space and eventually straight up spooning. Quinn fell silent when she realized the position Rachel and herself had ended up in with the brunette's back pressed snuggly against her front and one long arm draped over the singer's tan waist.
"What's wrong, did I say something?"
Quinn's mouth suddenly dry with rage at Schue, she hadn't even registered the brunette's previous words. "No. Its not you, I'm just thinking."
"What about, from what I've seen so far the breakfast club isn't exactly the most thought provoking movie."
"Two things, don't diss the club, and just what Schue told me earlier today." has this all really only been one long shitty day?
"Did he threaten you to leave me alone or it would screw up my career?"
Quinn startled, searching the brown eyes staring up at her, "How did you know?"
"Would you believe its not the first time that this has happened." the blonde arched and eyebrow at the thought of other women being threatened to stay away from her Rachel, my Rachel. Since when did I get ownership of this beautiful woman? Quinn thought. "Don't you give me that look. It was only this one other girl but I didn't even like her, just picked her up at a bar one night and she got clingy. But it has happened with other actors. The company hired beards and used the contracts as leverage to get their way."
"That's just so wrong! Shouldn't everyone here be more supportive, its New York for crying out loud! And the entertainment business, have they never met a gay actor before?"
Rachel sighed, "I agree it's very wrong but there's nothing we can do about it. The business may be accepting but that doesn't mean the rest of the world will be too."
"I feel like I'm back in highschool." Quinn shook her head at the sad memories from her past.
"What happened in highschool?" the brunette couldn't help herself, she was desperate to know everything about the other woman that she could learn.
"It was a million little things that all climaxed one night at dinner...
'Quinn, I don't like you hanging out with that Santana girl all the time.' Russel Fabray told his daughter for the umpteenth time.
'Why daddy? She's one of my best friends and with her being on the Cheerios we kind of have to spend time together.' the blonde had heard the speech dozens of times before but this time felt different, like this time she could stand up and finally give her father a piece of her mind.
'She's so loud and she is just not quite right.'
'You mean not quite Christian? Not quite white? Not quite what Dad? I want to hear you say it out loud Dad!' Quinn was on her feet, shouting that last sentence at her father.
'Fine Quinn,' he too stood, towering over the sixteen year old, 'she's gay and I don't want you spending time with someone like that. She is not a good influence!'
'Santana is one of my closest friends, she had been there for me for years through all the ups and downs which is a HELL of a lot more than can be said for you! If she's a bad influence just because she is not quite 'straight enough' for you then I might as well just go because maybe I'm not quite Christian enough, or submissive enough, or obedient enough, or straight enough for you either!' Quinn slapped her hand over her mouth, realizing what she had just said.
'Quinn, your not telling me that you're-'
'So what if I am Dad!? Either way there's nothing you can do about it!' Quinn was furious at herself, she had never even entertained the thought of her not being straight and now she was yelling it at her father. He just got her so angry and flustered she couldn't control what came out of her mouth.
SLAP- a searing pain shot across Quinn's cheek and her head snapped around from the force of the impact. Did her father really just strike her?
'You listen to me Quinn, and listen good when I say I can do anything I want about it and there is nothing you can do.' He grabbed her wrist forcefully enough to leave bruises that would mar her creamy skin for weeks afterward.
Through all of this Quinn's mother just sat shocked at the table. She made no move to stop her husband or save her daughter who was pleading with her eyes for the woman to intervene.
'Daddy let go, you're hurting me!'
'No. Don't call me that anymore, you are no daughter of mine.' His voice had dropped to a quiet whisper that was in some ways more intimidating that flat out yelling. 'No Fabray would dare disgrace their family in such a way. Get out of my sight, I want you out of my house by tomorrow morning.' he dropped his daughters wrist and left the dining room, for his study.
'Mom, do something! Where am I supposed to go?' the blonde was sobbing uncontrollably now as she dropped to her knees by her mother, pleading. But her pleas were met with a blank stare.
Quinn reached out an gently touched the woman on her leg but the hand was unsettled when her mother stood up and, without a word, left to join her husband in the study.
Teenaged Quinn ran up to her room and threw as many clothes as she could into her suitcase, then shoving books in on top and finally pausing only to stuff two framed pictures into her bag, one of her and Santana the summer before their freshman year just after they had gotten their Cheerio uniforms, and the other one of her and her older sister who was studying at University in England.
She called Santana from the bottom of her driveway, hardly able to form coherent sentences but the brunette showed up minutes later and after securing Quinn and her luggage in her car, the Latina pelted the Fabray's front door and windows with a dozen eggs, (even in highschool she had an impressive arm).
Ever since the blonde had become a part of the Lopez family, working her way through college and accumulating few student loans thanks to generous academic scholarships. She hadn't talked to her parents since then.
When Quinn finished her story Rachel was silent. The blonde assumed it was out of pity and immediately regretted telling the singer, the last thing she needed was more pity, but when she finally did speak the brunette's voice was quiet with rage, "They just threw you out when you were sixteen years old? On your own, no money, nothing? How could anyone do anything like that?" Rachel turned to be face to face with Quinn and stared deeply into the woman's hurt hazel eyes.
"Well it was mainly my father's doing but I will never forgive my mother for her silence. Her unfailing devotion to such a horrible man. He is captaining a sinking ship and she is just letting herself be taken down with him. I cannot forgive her for being so weak."
"Never is pretty strong. Maybe one day you could reconcile but in the present I understand." Rachel was still in disbelief that someone could be so cruel to the caring sensitive woman she had grown to love over the past few weeks.
"Rachel Berry, you are far too eager to find the good in people." Quinn mused. She reached down and gently cupped Rachel's chin in her hand, guiding it upwards until chocolate eyes met hers once again, "It's one of your best traits."
Rachel's gaze flew between the blonde's intense stare and her insanely soft looking lips. She subconsciously licked her own and smiled when she heard Quinn's breath hitch the smallest bit. The brunette tilted her head to the side slightly and with her eyes locked on the taller woman's, slowly inched closer until their lips were mere centimeters apart.
She paused, waiting for Quinn to give her the go ahead. The blonde was overcome with so many emotions she couldn't think straight so she did the only thing that made sense and connected their lips.
The first kiss was soft and gentle. An expression of everything they felt. Quinn poured her hurt and broken teenage years out and Rachel responded with her regret at the blonde's trauma and all of her insecurities.
When they pulled back there was a tear in the corner of the blonde's eye. "Are you alright?" Rachel's voice was full of concern.
"I'm fine I just- I never told anybody the full story of that night. Not even Santana." Quinn smiled sadly, "I have never said aloud that I hate my mother... This somehow made it more real."
"I understand. Its ok Quinn." she reached up and gentle stroked the blonde's cheek, wiping away the single tear.
"With you it is."
The second kiss was full of need and fueled by weeks of endless flirting, by the longing looks shot across the theater, by the lingering touches, by the long nights of sleeping over, and the sweet mornings after.
Rachel rolled over, settling herself firmly atop the blonde who released a small moan, Rachel took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. They stayed like this, getting to know each other and exploring each other's bodies for the remainder of the movie.
When the credits rolled, so did they, shifting from the couch to Rachel's bedroom where the kissing continued. For the most part they kept it slow and cautious. Rachel trying not to cross a line and scare the young girl and Quinn was so caught up in the brunette she could hardly form a coherent thought.
"I think we should stop Quinn." the singer pulled back and cupped the blonde's pouting face. Why does she have to look so damn cute when she pouts.
"Did I do something Rach?"
"No. Its just that you are special." Quinn smiled at the compliment before going back to her adorable pouting, "and I don't want to do anything to mess this up. I don't want to rush into this and have you be pressured into making decisions about things you aren't ready to yet. I want to take us slow."
"I understand," the blonde reluctantly said, "I don't like it but I understand."
Rachel reluctantly moved from atop the stage manager.
"We can still snuggle though right?" Quinn confirmed.
"Of course."
Thirty minutes later Quinn gently snuck out of the bed, slipping her arms from around the brunette, grabbing her cell phone, and tip toeing from the apartment to the hallway so she wouldn't wake the sleeping singer.
She hit speed dial one and waited.
"What!?" the irritated Latina grumbled on the third ring.
"I'm not straight."
"What the hell Q?"
"But I'm not gay."
"Quinn did you call me in the middle of the night to go over your sexuality?!" her roommate asked in disbelief.
"Santana what is wrong with me?" the blonde whined.
"What's wrong with you!? What is wrong with you is that you think it is acceptable to call me at this time of night because you were such a repressed messed up kid that it took you this long to realize that you weren't straight!"
"Wait how long have you known?"
"How long have we been friends?"
"Um like 18 years." Quinn calculated.
"Then 17 years."
"Santana! How could you- But I- That's just- I can't believe-" the blonde spluttered.
"You are as subtle as a freight train Quinn. Now what prompted this sudden realization?"
"I kissed Rachel."
silence
"Did you hear me S? I kissed Rachel."
"And its about damn time too. Well..."
"Well what?!"
"Spill it Q! What was it like, did you like it, do you like her?" The Latina shot off, no hint of sleep remained in her voice.
"S! You perv! It was amazing, I loved it, I think I love her..."
"Wow Fabray, jumping from gay freak out to love in twenty seconds, that's a new record."
"Ok, maybe not love... But strongly like"
"I would strongly like to get some more sleep today."
"Fine. Thanks for the sarcasm. Bye S!"
"Go get it Q!"
Quinn rolled her eyes and snuck back into the apartment. Rachel was awake when she re-entered the bedroom, "I thought you snuck off on me."
"Now why would I do that?" the blonde asked sliding back under the covers and snuggling up to Rachel.
"I haven't the foggiest. But I'm glad you didn't."
"Don't worry, I won't be anytime soon."
Thanks for your reviews already on this chapter, they have resulted in some revisions, mainly the changing of Rachel's injury from cracked to bruised ribs. The guest that commented on that was quite right, I have never broken anything and this injury seems to be a bit more fitting!