'Ello, poppets! 'Tis I, back again to deliver another dose of Faberry goodness to the people.

And, because of snowdrop1026's correct answer to the last review challenge, she has already received the plotline for the next 3 chapters! So, as Kurt so kindly put it, "Hate your heart out, Kate Middleton". : )

Now then, onward with Chapter 6!

I begin to feel lightheaded as I ascend the steps of the white-washed wraparound porch to the two-story farmhouse at 13 Ottawa Road. I wipe a sweaty palm on the leg of my jeans, my other hand grasping the stems of Rachel's tiger lilies tightly. The white plastic crinkles between my fingers as I take a deep breath.

Just relax, Fabray. You've got this.

I tentatively ring the doorbell and shift my weight from one foot to the other, concentrating hard on the toes of my brown rawhide boots. My ears prick at the sound of footsteps making their way toward the entryway, and a shiver runs down my spine as I hear the dull metallic grinding of a dead-bolt lock being turned over. A large shadow darkens the warm glow that shone through the fogged glass of the door, and my stomach drops as it opens to reveal a slightly older man with an ominous way about him. He has unnaturally wooly chestnut locks, chocolate brown eyes that seem to be a carbon copy of Rachel's (although not half as inviting), and a very angular, clean-shaven jaw that's currently set in a hard frown. There are a few sprouts of coarse brown chest hair curling over the v-neck of his black t-shirt, and by the way the cotton fabric bows out at his right hip, I can tell he's carrying… though I'd rather not find out what.

"You Fabray?" he asks in a surprisingly smooth voice that doesn't match his threatening demeanor.

That depends. Are you going to shoot me?

The man leans against the doorjamb and folds his muscular arms across his chest as I nod slowly.

"Have her back by midnight, 'else you'll have to look into ridin' without legs. Get me?"

My heart threatens to beat its way out of my chest, my ribcage tightening apprehensively while my face flushes under his stern gaze. My tongue feels thick in my mouth as I nod again.

Just when I'm certain I'll pass out right here on the landing, Rachel's melodious voice snaps the tension.

"What the hell are you trying to do, Will? Scare her half to death?"

Her petite frame slides between us to face the intimidating man in the doorway. She jabs her index finger hard into his shoulder, and throws one more menacing glance at me before retreating into the house. Rachel lets out a huff and turns toward me after kicking the door shut with the heel of her boot. As my paralyzing fear lifts, I give Rachel an appreciative once-over in the dim yellow porchlight. Her black off-the-shoulder top showcases a supple looking expanse of her olive skin, a white bra strap clinging to her left shoulder. The black cowboy boots and dark-wash skinny jeans accentuate her hourglass figure, and her black felt cowboy hat, a strip of white braided leather encircling its crown, completes the ensemble.

God… Still beautiful.

"Don't mind him, Quinn," she says in an exasperated tone as she takes my hand and leads me back down the wooden stairs toward the driveway. "Will takes his 'big brother' role a little too seriously when it comes to suitors."

I let out a breathy chuckle, both at her gross understatement and at the butterflies fluttering gaily in my stomach from the feel of her fingers interlaced with mine.

"I would too," I tell her honestly before presenting her with the flowers. "A rare bloom like you deserves someone to look after her."

She giggles flirtatiously as she accepts the lilies and inhales their fragrant scent. Her brown eyes sparkle when they open again, and she kisses my cheek slowly in gratitude.

"You're very sweet, Quinn," Rachel whispers gently before pulling away. I blush furiously under the brim of my hat and clear my throat to hide the warmth spreading over my cheeks.

I move to open the car door for her before settling into the driver's side of Shannon's vintage sports car.

"So," Rachel says, letting her hand lay comfortably on my wrist as I release the park-brake and shift into reverse. "Would you like to tell me where we're going?"

I simply grin at her and shake my head lightly. "Let's just say it's a place you'll know well."


"Just a few more steps, Rachel," I whisper playfully. Her hands hold onto my wrists as my own cover her eyes. I gingerly guide her around the metal gate and into the ring.

"Alright. Open."

I move to stand in front of her as she opens her warm brown eyes to take in the scene around her.

We're in the Allen County Fairgrounds ring, two rows of candles lighting a path in the dust to its center. In the middle of the ring, there's a red and white checkered picnic blanket with a wicker basket and my Alvarez guitar and stand just next to it. The stars are bright above our heads, the full moon casting a sort of magical glow over the entire spread. Rachel's breath catches in her throat as her eyes flit from the setting to me and back.

I walk over and hoist my guitar, throwing the strap over my shoulder and sliding the pick out of the strings on the neck.

"Quinn…" she gasps when she can finally find words again. "This is... amazing."

I dip my head in modesty and give her a bashful grin as I take her hand. "It's not quite done yet."

Rachel beams at me as I pull her gently by the hand to sit down on the blanket. I begin strumming jubilant chords into the pleasant night air, her mesmerizing eyes shining up at me in adoration.

"Is she the one?
She felt like an angel, heaven-sent.
A sweet hello;
Yeah, it was simple but different.
"

I know my voice is nowhere near hers as far as range, but I can tell by the radiant smile she's giving me that it doesn't matter much. She's enjoying this, and seeing her smile makes me grin from ear to ear.

"We painted the town,
Laughing at stories like we were friends.
But could we return
To our own lives when the night ends?
"

My stomach does backflips when she takes off her cowboy hat and shakes her long brown curls out in the glow of the candles surrounding us. The way the light of the moon hits her makes the skin of her perfect neck seem ethereal, and I know in this moment that Rachel Berry really is an angel.

"Wait, there's more to this.
You would be the one I would miss.

I'm wanting you now, that's all I can say.
Give me your heart to hold for always.
All that you are is all that I need.
Together we should be.
"

Rachel giggles as I do a rockstar-caliber powerslide in the dust to end my little selection. I lift the strap on the guitar to set it back on its stand before shaking the grit off the knees of my jeans.

"Was that your way, albeit off-key, of asking me on a second date?"

I smirk at her coy remark and let my index finger tap her nose lightly. "Only if you'll have me, Miss Berry."

Reaching for the basket, I pull out the metal tins of baked ziti from Breadstix and set them in front of us. Her eyes never leave mine as I offer her a fork and napkin, and pour two glasses of sparkling cider.

"So, Miss Fabray," Rachel smiles. "Tell me a little about you. I only know that you're incredibly charming and you have eyes that smolder when you look at me."

Another deep blush warms my face and neck as she smirks and lifts a forkful of pasta to her lips.

"Well," I begin slowly, drawing a deep breath. "F. Scott Fitzgerald's my favorite author, I think Walt Whitman's the greatest poet to ever pick up a pen, and I live to ride."

Rachel chuckles airily and picks up her glass to sip her cider. "Any future plans? I mean, other than riding."

I shrug lightly while chewing a bite of the flavorful ziti. "Eh, open my own ranch, settle down and have a few more kids…"

I regret the phrase as soon as it leaves my lips. Rachel's eyebrow quirks up at my choice of words, and I suppose now is as good a time as any to tell her, though I wasn't planning on this topic to come up so soon. I exhale heavily and place my fork back in the tin. Rachel's eyes look concerned, but I reach for her hand and offer her a small smile to let her know I don't mind the subject.

"I already have a daughter," I explain slowly, nearly boring holes in the red and white fabric with my gaze. "Her name's Beth. I had her when I was a sophomore in high school."

Rachel dips her head to find my eyes. There's no judgment or disappointment, or even pity in them. There's only silent understanding, and it's this reassurance coupled with the soothing circular patterns her thumb is making on the back of my hand that urge me to continue.

"I… I gave her up the day she was born. I didn't want her to have to grow up in a home like mine…"

Rachel's eyebrows skyrocket at this revelation, and I nod carefully.

"Beth's father and my ex-boyfriend, Finn, was always a very… forceful person. He was rather accustomed to getting his way. And one night, when he slept over… He wanted things that I didn't."

Rachel gasps gently, her hand squeezing mine tight. A lone tear tracks it way down my cheek as I remember the pain; the terrible things he said to me while he stole my innocence, and the way he'd just left me to bleed out on my bed like a prostitute.

"Oh, Quinn," she whispers, sliding my hat off and setting it down next to hers. She presses a kiss to the side of my head in comfort. "I'm so sorry."

"I don't regret it at all," I say quickly, clearing my throat and pawing at the liquid tendrils of emotion that continue their trek down my face. "As twisted as that sounds, I don't. It gave me Beth, and even though I wish it could've happened differently, I wouldn't change the outcome."

Rachel smiles tenderly at me before caressing my flushed cheek. I'm suddenly hyperaware of our close proximity, and as badly as I want to damn it all to hell and put my lips on hers, I know that if I kiss her now, my story about Beth will just look like cheap pandering.

So much for keeping the conversation 'first date appropriate'.

"You, Quinn Fabray, are the strongest rider I've ever met."

Hmm… That's better.

I beam gratefully at her, and as rapidly as the heavy emotional moment begins, it's over, and the mood is light again.


"I had a great time with you tonight, Quinn."

We stand on the porch of Will's house again, and I can't resist glancing nervously at the door to see if the threatening homeowner in question is watching us. I've gotten her home with five minutes to spare, and I'm hoping to fill these five minutes will something… sweet.

"I had fun too, Rachel. Who knew the Berry family was so good at cherry stem tying?" I laugh as I remember the tying contest we'd had back at the ring with the stems from the cherries that topped off our slices of cherry pie. Rachel had out-tied me by a landslide, her twenty-three knots dwarfing my pile of ten.

"Well, you know what that means, right, Fabray?" she says in a low voice, taking a step toward me. I'm holding her flowers for her, and the hand that grips them starts to shake in anticipation.

"W-What?"

"Us Berry women are phenomenal kissers."

Her warm, saccharine breath tickles my ear as she lays a kiss just against the underside of my jaw. I shudder at the sudden heat that courses through my body and settles low in my stomach. Rachel chuckles at my reaction, a smirk evident on her face.

"I wouldn't know," I goad gently, hoping she'll see my point. "A Berry woman has never kissed me properly."

Rachel snorts and slides a hand to rest at the back of my head, slowly bringing my face to hers. It seems like an eternity before our lips finally meet, but when they do, the sensation is indescribable. It feels like I'm burning and freezing at the same time; like my body is being split in half and fused back together. My hands come to rest on her hips as she deepens the kiss, a contented moan slipping from her as my thumbs caress the skin exposed by her top. Her mouth is so soft, but by contrast, the strokes of her tongue against mine are deliberate and strong, and the combination is stealing my breath with every passing moment. Rachel's lips curl into a smile under my own, and I can't remember feeling this at peace with anyone else.

She pulls away first, taking the flowers from my hand and opening the door, presumably unlocked by her phantom of a brother. My fingers feather across my lips as if trying to keep her on them, and she smirks as our eyes meet once more.

"How's that for a proper goodnight?"

Perfect.

AN: Alright, darlings, tell me what you thought of Rachel and Quinn's first date! Go forth and review!

And, for those who'd like to play another little review game, here's the challenge: The first reviewer to correctly identify the title of Quinn's song and the artist who sings it will win a sneak peek at Chapter 7, "A Day With The Enemy"! Go on, kiddies! : )