A/N: Oh my god, so many people alerted and favorited this fic already, it's unbelievable. I'd still have uploaded this chapter pretty fast anyway, but it sure helped. It's just so much fun writing these two. Especially Rachel. I do kinda tend to go on and on like she does, so it's actually easier to write her than it is for me to write Quinn. Also, I was planning on making this a more angsty or at least dramatic chapter, but I don't think I have it in me, not yet. For now, it's just cuteness and fluff. So, once again, enjoy your reading and if you have any questions, concerns, suggestions or comments or if you just want to say hi, make sure you leave a review. Hope you all have a great day!
Chapter 2: Zippers and Buttons.
It was around 5pm when they finally made it to Quinn's room. Rachel was quieter than normal on the way there, she mostly let the blonde talk about her life at Yale and how her classes were going. The only time she got into one of her characteristically long winded rants was when the dj at the radio station they were listening to got some facts about Celine Dion wrong. The diva's overprotective tendencies towards Celine Dion – and especially the fact that she insisted on calling her Celine, much like the way she called Barbra Streisand "Barbra" – were probably one of Quinn's favorite things about her. Plural, she thought, there are so many things about her that just have to be loved. Quinn smiled at that thought. When she turned her head, the brunette's expectant looks made her realize that she had probably spaced out during the rant. She looked at Rachel's face for a moment, to see if she could get any clues but to no avail, the brunette could manage a perfect poker face when she wanted to. "I'm sorry, I must have spaced off." She offered.
"It's okay, Quinn. I mean I do not have any delusions to think that anyone, let alone you, would actually care enough about Celine to listen to my fierce defence of her talents and timeless songs."
Take that for example. So cute. "Rachel... I was listening to you. And I'm sure your defence was very interesting, but I am little tired and I just don't want to fall asleep at the wheel, especially not after what happened last year."
"Oh." Okay, that was low. Quinn scolded herself for resorting to that excuse the moment she saw the brunette's face fall. "I'm sorry Quinn. I'll try and be more quiet. I didn't mean to be a distraction to you."
"No, Rachel, it's okay. I was just being an ass." Pretty much the whole time I've known you. "I'm sorry." For everything, she added mentally. For the rest of the drive, Rachel had remained relatively silent and it was killing both of them. So when Quinn finally unlocked the door to her room and let Rachel in, she turned around and stood right in front of her, causing the brunette to bump into her slightly.
"Quinn? What's going on?" asked Rachel, her voice smaller than she was aiming for. What if she changed her mind? What if she never wanted to be friends with me in the first place? I was too pushy, I knew it, I blew it again.
Quinn stood there for a moment, looking at the brunette's face, fascinated by the everchanging emotions expressed on her features. "Rachel, slow down." The brunette raised her head to look at her so fast, Quinn could swear she heard her neck crack. "Whatever you're thinking, that's not why I stopped. You look so panicked right now, I wish you could see your face." She chuckled. "I was just going to say that, since we're not on the road and driving anymore, I would very much like it if you could start speaking again. Like the Rachel we all know and love. I'm dying to hear about NYADA!"
The relaxation in Rachel's physical features was visible even to the untrained eye. "Oh well, NYADA is fabulous! I have so many classes and for once they are all on subjects that are of interest to me although I can't for the life of me figure out why we have to do so much theoretical stuff before they let us sing on stage. I mean I do understand the fact that we also need to learn about music and history and techniques but I also feel like I could work on my vocal range as well." She took a deep breath.
"How long have you been wanting to tell me about that?" Quinn said with a playful smile.
Rachel smiled back. "Since I got into the car." They both laughed at the admission. "Other than that, I'm living in New York but I don't actually get the chance to spend time in the city much, my roommate is practically a hermit, I think you would like her..." Quinn raised an eyebrow at that but chose not to interrupt the brunette. It was way more fun to just listen to her go on about her daily life in the big city. "... also, I sometimes really wish that Kurt was there with me as well. That pretty much sums it all up."
"How's he doing by the way? Is he still brooding at home?"
"No, the last time I heard he was forcing Blaine to do daily vocal training sessions with him for this year's auditions. He is pretty much back to being our Kurt, but an even more ambitious one, if that's even possible." She paused for a second, then continued, "How is Santana doing? Isn't she also in New York? I want to call her up and meet but I never really have the time and I have to admit that I am still a little scared of her when she doesn't have Brittany nearby to keep her in line."
Quinn chuckled at that. "Oh she's doing fine. The last time we spoke on the phone, she was gonna start performing at this new hot bar. Apparently the last singer that worked there got vetted. So who knows? By the next time we speak, she could have already become a star. This keeping up with friends thing while going through college is hard. Harder than I expected to be honest."
"I know." There was a certain hint of sadness to Rachel's voice that did not escape the blonde's attention.
"Your fathers?" she asked, with a raised eyebrow.
"Yeah. I do try to talk to them at least once a week but school work is getting harder and harder and I do want to meet new people and make some friends and socialize but I just don't have enough time or energy for that matter." So cute, Quinn thought as she looked at Rachel's pouty face.
"Oh come on. You're Rachel Berry. If anybody can multitask, it's you." Quinn said, with a smile. "Okay, since I've promised you a fun night, a fun night it shall be. It's almost 6 now, so if you want to freshen up and change, we can leave by 7."
"Leave and go where? Quinn that is absolutely not sufficient information for someone to decide what to wear."
"Wear something casual, but not too casual."
"So a bar or a restaurant?"
"Something like that. Now if you are finished fishing for information," Quinn nudged Rachel into her room, "I would be very glad if you started changing."
"I can talk while I change, you know." Rachel continued from the other side of the door, as her eyes quickly surveyed the room she was in. Quinn's dorm was very different from her own, which she was sharing with another student. The room she was standing in was where Quinn actually slept, her bed was by the window, slightly unmade. The thought that Quinn was not the neat freak everyone assumed she was made Rachel smile. There were tons of pictures on the walls, some of them were from their years at McKinley High, and some of them were black and white photographs of still life that Rachel had never seen before. I should ask Quinn about them later, she made a mental note.
"Why am I not surprised to hear that?" Quinn quipped back, sitting on the huge comfortable couch in the common room. There were four more people sharing the same living place, they had a common living room, a small kitchen and a small dinner table. They were lucky enough to have separate bathrooms, since the stories Quinn heard from people who were staying at other dorms were pretty horrifying.
"Zip me up." Rachel came out of her room wearing a small black dress and turned around, her back exposed to the blonde's eyes.
"Wh- What?"
"I obviously can't zip myself up Quinn. Even though I have gotten over most of my issues about my body image, I have to admit that sometimes I do wish I had slightly longer arms so I could zip my dresses up on my own but in this case you will have to..." there was a loud zip, a slight touch of Quinn's knuckles to her back and it was done. "... help. Thank you Quinn." The brunette turned around to face her friend, who was looking at the brunette's feet, her cropped hair preventing Rachel from seeing her face. "Is something wrong?" The brunette wondered.
"No. It's just..." You have fucking amazing back muscles. Do friends even tell each other stuff like this? Instead, Quinn opted to point out the obvious facts. "You are barefoot. You will need shoes for where we are going." She looked up and smiled. "I guess I should have given you that information before as well?"
Rachel hit the blonde's arm playfully and laughed. "I pretty much figured that out by myself, thank you very much." With that, she went back into the room, and when she finally remerged, she was no longer barefoot. "How do I look? Is this okay for where we are going?"
"You look amazing." You look amazing. Wait – what? Did I say that out loud? Rachel's face lighted up at the compliment. I guess I did. Oh well. She does look amazing. Damn it Fabray! Get it together. She is a friend. We don't look at friends as if they are food. Food. I'm actually really hungry... Quinn snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of Rachel calling her name.
"You really should get some rest Quinn. You have been spacing out ever since I got here. They must be really overworking you guys here." Yeah, sure, let's go with that. Rachel offered a comforting smile, to make sure that Quinn knows that she is just teasing her. "So are you going to change as well?"
"Why Miss Berry, are you ashamed of being seen with a hobo like me?" said the blonde, ruffling up her own hair to make it look even more messy. Okay, that's all kinds of adorable, Rachel thought.
"Oh my, Quinn, I would never..." Rachel started but the blonde was already up on her feet and walking towards her room.
"I'll be out in a minute." She winked and closed the door. A wink? You have got to be kidding me. A wink? You're worse than Sam Evans, Fabray. She shook her head at herself, and quickly got into a shirt and a vest, leaving her dark jeans on. She checked herself out in her mirror, pleased with her reflection. It's pathetic how much I want to impress her. What the hell has gotten into me? She sighed. Rachel's presence there was only making what she had been going through lately worse, but she was making it better at the same time, somehow. It was complicated, as things regarding Quinn Fabray usually tended to be. At least I'm not scared that I will go to hell for this anymore, she thought and with that, she exited her room.
"Are we ready?" she asked. Rachel just got up and walked towards her as an answer. The thing is, she did not stop until she was completely in Quinn's personal space. "Um... I... RACHEL?" her voice was way more high pitched than she originally intended but it was too late to take it back. Rachel fucking Berry is unbuttoning my vest. Rachel. Hands. On. Me. I just can't...
"Stop flinching. You missed a button there."
"Oh." Oh. Shit-!
Rachel looked at her face with a hint of amusement in her eyes. Was that disappointment in her voice? She wondered, but kept quiet about it. "There you go. Now that you look decent enough, I can be seen in public with you. You know, someone may take a photo of us tonight and when I make my big break in Broadway the photos may resurface. I can't risk it Fabray. You have to be on top of your game if you wanna roll with me." It was a miracle she managed to get that sentence out with a straight face.
"You are unbelievable. C'mon, out." She ushered the brunette out of the door, trying not to oggle her ass. Well, not too much at least.
"So, where are you taking me?" Rachel asked, linking her arm to the blonde's, completely unaware of the innuendo and its effects on Quinn.
"Just... Just be patient, okay? You'll like it, I promise," was all that she could offer.
"Oh God, Quinn, this is amazing!" Quinn had a beaming Rachel Berry jumping up and down in a very little dress right next to her. She couldn't help but notice the way the brunette's arm and hip touched hers every single time she jumped. She had to mentally kick herself to make sure that she still had the ability to speak.
"So you like it?" she asked, with a smile.
"Like it? I absolutely love it!" They were finally shown to an empty table near the bar. Quinn took a deep breath as the brunette stopped jumping and instead grabbed the blonde's hand and lead her to the table. "Do you come here often?"
"Not too often. It's not exactly a place to come by yourself you know. It's more fun when there's actually people around to make fun of the people on stage." Yes, Quinn Fabray, the ex-cheerleader, the ice queen, the HBIC, had taken Rachel Berry to a karaoke bar. If that doesn't prove to anyone that I have changed, nothing probably will, she thought. She was tired of trying to prove herself to everyone, but on some level, she knew that she deserved it. Her actions in her teens had no real explanation other than the fact that her life pretty much sucked. But she was finally out of her parents' house, she was in one of the top schools in the country – hell, in the world – and she was making friends with the girl she once tried so hard to break. Quinn Fabray knew that she had a long way to go to make everything okay, but she also knew that she had already come a long way. "Are you going to sing?" she paused for a second when she saw the hesitant look on the brunette's face and quickly added, "for me?"
"Only if you sing with me." The brunette said, with a shy smile. All of a sudden she was nervous about singing while the blonde watched. She was nervous about singing to her.
"Rachel Berry declining a solo? Have I fell and hit my head somewhere on the way here?" Quinn mused.
"Oh, come on. We've sung together before. Besides, pitchy as you can be at times, you have a beautiful singing voice Quinn. And the point of my visit was to spend time with you, not to showcase my talents in front of an unsuspecting audience."
"Okay, okay, I will sing with you." Quinn threw her arms up in the air in defeat. "I know just the perfect song for us to do."