A/N: This was written for a monthly challenge on The Treasure Trail LJ community, and originally had illustrations (which was the point of the challenge - to make an illustrated or comic-book story), so I've had to adapt it very slightly (pretty much just adding the opening lines) to make up for lost visual information. If you want to look at the original, there's a link to my LJ in my profile.

On the monthly challenge side, good and bad news:

Good: It won!

Bad: There was only one other entry. Maybe that's why they don't run them anymore.

Also, The Laurel condominium, mentioned near the end, is an actual building, which someone of Rachel's career level would not be able to afford. But what the Hell, it's a story. (Seriously, look up the penthouse floorplan - not bad for $13M.)

On with the fic:

Fabray: 9
Lopez-Pierce: 6
Pierce-Lopez: 15

"What. The. Fuck."

Santana's glower tried desperately to set fire to the leaderboard. It failed.

"It's only three houses, S."

"Yeah, and what about you, B?"

"I pout a lot."

Quinn grinned into her coffee. Everytime. Her engagement ring clinked against the mug, and her face fell. Brittany noticed, giving her a half smile, and touching her arm lightly. Santana didn't.

"I wonder what the prize'll be?"

"What. The. Fuck."

Brittany arched an eyebrow at her wife. Really?

"But you always get the prize, share it with me, and we get to rub it in Quinn's and Hudson's faces. It's our thing."

"Well, maybe next time you'll do your job rather than always throwing the best tips my way."

Santana huffed.

"Anyway, Quinn needs this. It'll give her one last chance to escape before the wedding."

"What are you talking about? They're just VIP tickets to Evita. In New York. StarringIdinafuckingMenzel. With a meet-and-greet after."

Brittany smiled. Much as Santana hated to admit it, Glee Club had rubbed off on her in the best possible way.

"Well, you're not missing her. I happen to know she's on vocal rest that week, so her understudy's filling in."

"Oh, and I'm sure Quinn'll love meeting some understudy. Precisely how is this supposed to be an esc... ...Who's the understudy?"

Brittany smiled.

Quinn and her mother took their seats.

"You know, Quinnie, I'd forgotten how much you enjoy this sort of thing. I don't know why we don't go to the theatre more often."

"Because we can't afford it, Mom. Especially not with the wedding coming up."

Judy didn't miss the way the light went out of her daughter's eyes when that subject came up. She long ago stopped asking why Quinn had accepted Finn's proposal whenever that happened. The answer was always the same.

"He loves me. He has a good job. He's nice, most of the time. Why shouldn't I've said yes?"

Judy had once married a man for what she thought was love. She had no response.

"Well, I'm just glad the cast is of such high quality. This Ms. Menzel is supposed to be good, right Quinn?"

"Yes, Mom."

The woman sitting to Quinn's left turned to the pair.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help but overhear. And I'm afraid to have to disappoint you; Dear Idina isn't appearing tonight. She's on a vocal rest."

"Oh." No wonder Britt didn't want the tickets.

"But her understudy is really quite good. I can't remember her name, of course, but there should be a note in your programme."

Quinn quickly flipped through and found the addendum. The name shone out at her.

"Holy shit!"

"Quinn!"

"I beg your pardon, my dear!"

"Sorry Mom, but it's Rachel!"

Judy drew a blank.

"Berry! From New Directions!"

"Oh!"

Quinn turned to the other woman.

"I apologise, but we were in our High School's Glee Club together. We won Nationals once. Finalled twice."

"Oh, congratulations my dear."

"Just think, Quinnie, you'll have plenty to talk about during the meet and greet."

Judy wondered why the colour drained from her daughter's face until a short brunette girl came onstage. Then she wondered why she had never seen this look of adoration when Quinn looked at Finn.

Rachel staggered back, hitting her behind on the piano, sending her mortarboard skidding across the deep black wood. She stared at Quinn for a good minute, trying to regain her thoughts after the searing kiss. She didn't understand.

"We could've ruled this school."

"They would've destroyed us."

"Santana and Brittany -"

"- Are not us."

Finn entered the Choir Room, his ill-fitting Graduation gown flowing behind him, as usual oblivious as a knife to the tension hanging in the air between his too many times ex- and currant girlfriends.

"Hey, come on, guys, Mr. Schue wants one last group photo!"

Rachel moved to pick up her hat off of the piano, and realised she didn't trust her legs. She turned to Finn.

"Why don't you bring the others here, Finn? This place was the heart and soul of Glee, after all."

Finn smiled at his girlfriend.

"Yeah! That's a great idea!"

He left, and Quinn smiled at Rachel.

"You were the heart and soul of Glee."

"Was I? It didn't always feel like it."

Quinn rushed over and embraced the diva once again. Rachel expected another kiss, but it never came. Instead, after awhile, as the others began to filter in, Quinn whispered into her ear.

"Don't stay here. Go. Be epic, like you're supposed to be."

They parted as Santana entered, Brittany trailing off her pinkie.

"Finally jumping the midget, Q? I'm impressed. I'm sure she appreciates the drama of it being the last fucking day of school and you're never going to have to see her again."

Quinn punched her friend playfully in the shoulder.

"Not everybody's a big ol' dyke like you, S."

Santana looked between the blonde and the brunette as they took up stations at opposite sides of the group. She sighed at her friend's idiocy.

"Yeah, not everybody."

Quinn stood with her mother and the rest of the VIP ticket holders. She watched as Rachel and the other cast members quietly went about the business of shaking hands and smiling and laughing at the ticket holders' quips.

Rachel. Gorgeous. Older but the same. Most of the other VIPs barely gave her a second glance. Just the understudy, after all. More important people to fawn over. Quinn was sure they'd be kicking themselves in the years to come. She admired how the brunette was taking the nescience of the other theatre goers.

But she always was good at putting on a brave face.

That brave face turned in her direction for the first time that night. Deep chocolate eyes meeting with hazel. A blink was the only indication of recognition before Rachel turned to a woman with a clipboard standing to her side and spoke quickly. The woman looked up at Quinn, then back down to Rachel, shaking her head. Rachel got that cute look of determination on her face, and the other woman's shoulders' sagged. Quinn grinned, knowing that reaction. The woman came over to her.

"Quinn Fabray?"

She nodded.

"Miss Berry would like to see you in private after this session is over. I'll inform security not to shoo you out."

"My mother..."

"Will wait for you back at the hotel, Quinnie. You spend some time alone with your friend."

Quinn smiled at her mother, and the woman went back to Rachel. As the rest of the meet went on, and she and her mother spoke to the rest of the cast, that megawatt smile kept finding her.

Rachel's dressing room was small, and looked like it usually had more than one person using it.

Understudy.

Right.

She stood uncomfortably in the doorway whilst Rachel and the woman with the clipboard whispered heatedly to each other. Then with one final shake of her head, the woman walked over to her.

"Enjoy your visit, Ms. Fabray."

She left, shutting the door behind her. Quinn looked over at Rachel.

"I don't think she likes me."

Rachel grinned.

"She's learnt not to like the tall elegant blondes I let into my room."

Quinn arched an eyebrow.

"Also, she may have heard your name a few times at Juilliard, during drunken rants about how people at my old high school treated me."

Quinn nodded.

"Also we used to date, and we still occasionally sleep together, so she really doesn't like the tall elegant blondes I let into my room."

Quinn blushed.

"She sounds like quite the assistant."

"Manager, actually, but she's quite... ...Hands on."

Quinn guffawed.

"I thought you'd appreciate that."

"You're evil!"

"That's never been proved."

She indicated to Quinn to sit down.

"How have you been, Quinn?"

"Good. Good."

"That's a nice ring."

Quinn's smile faded.

"It was Finn's Grandmother's."

"Oh."

"I take it you're not seeing anyone? Just your manager?"

"No, there's nobody. Nobody serious."

They sat in silence, uncertain of where to go.

"Brittany and Santana got married."

"Oh, I know! Brittany actually invited me, but I couldn't get the time off. I was really upset, it prompted the first truly diva-like moment of my career, but unfortunately I don't have the power yet to pull it off."

"You didn't miss anything. They -"

"Eloped, yes, I know that too. Brittany filled me in on all the details. I do hope to make their reception, once people stop being mad with them enough to allow them to have one."

"I'm sure they'll be glad to see you."

"Brittany's glad to see everybody."

"True, true."

"So, when are you and Finn tying the knot?"

"You killed it out there tonight."

Rachel nodded, accepting the deflection.

"Thank you."

They continued their conversation for a while longer, neither quite relaxing, a lot going unsaid, two pairs of eyes constantly drifting down to a gold band with a glittering diamond. Eventually, Rachel's manager knocked on the door and entered.

"We really have to go, Rach."

"Okay."

She got up, and Quinn did likewise.

"It may not have felt like it, Rachel, but I really have enjoyed seeing you again."

"Me too."

Rachel paused, obviously weighing something up in her head.

"Listen, Quinn, if you ever feel the need to take time out, escape for a while, if you will, you're welcome to get in touch. I have a spare room."

"Rachel, you're a Broadway diva in the making, and I'm a realtor from Lima, Ohio. And I'm marrying Finn. And that escape might work, because he does drive me up the wall at times, if those two places were anywhere near each other, but they're not."

Rachel nodded, then handed Quinn a card. The Laurel, 400 East 57.

"Just in case."

Quinn smiled at her.

"Thank you. Goodbye, Rachel Berry."

"Goodbye, Quinn Fabray."

When Rachel walked into her building two months later to find a tall, elegant blonde woman wearing a smart, elegant, somewhat dishevelled white dress, and no gold band with glittering diamond, it was all she could do to only hug her. She didn't want to embarrass Quinn further by ripping her clothes off in the entry hall.

They entered Rachel's apartment, and stood awkwardly a few feet from each other.

"People still haven't forgiven B and S, do you think they'll ever forgive me?"

"Yes."

"I love you, Rachel."

"I love you too, Quinn."