A/N: So the last (and the second) time I updated I did mention something along the lines of updating often, even up to a couple chapters a week. So, after saying that (and properly jinxing myself) I realized I actually had to attend my own graduation and the celebratory stuff afterwards with my family, friends and pretty much everyone I've ever known. Then, when I finally got some free time, I found out that procrastination is my muse. But, at least I'm back now, right? Anyway, thanks for all the follows and faves, and thanks for taking the time to read this. Enjoy!

Chapter 3: The Pool and The Ocean

Rachel Berry was a swimmer. From the first time ever her dads took her to the pool with them to this day, Rachel Berry had been a swimmer and a good one at that. Some would argue that an exceptional one wouldn't be so far off, either. At four years old, whenever Rachel was not taking dance or singing lessons, or was busy competing and excelling at both, she was swimming. She was a natural at it, that's what all her instructors kept saying to her very proud fathers.

Now, back in her dorm room at NYADA, merely hours after she left a certain blonde in New Haven, Rachel could not help but think that's what her new friendship with Quinn reminded her of. Swimming can be a metaphor for almost all relationships of any kind, she thought. What she liked about swimming was that it required a certain level of confidence, the water was ruthless if the swimmer was panicking. But that confidence only came with trust. One could only be confident in her ability to actually stay afloat if she trusted the water to lift her up in the first place. Beside all this, one also had to know their limits and keep pushing them once those limits became too constricting.

Rachel's thoughts wandered off to her relationship with Finn for a while. Being with Finn was like swimming in a pool – a pool for kids, even. She knew exactly what to expect at all times, there was never anything to throw her off, Finn was never the one to push her out of her comfort zone. The truth was they were always below her comfort zone. The boy was transparent to her. There was no challenge, no risk of losing her footing or being thrown down by an unexpected wave. While she could acknowledge the fact that being in waters way beyond her abilities would have been overwhelming, if not downright terrifying, she also knew that her relationship with Finn never gave a chance to either of them to grow. Both as a couple and as individuals, they kept splashing around in the same vicinity, breaking and making up for the same reasons throughout their relationship. It was safe, but it was frustrating to the point of maddening after a while.

Quinn, on the other hand, her thoughts kept wondering back to the ex-cheerleader for some reason. She did not have the mental energy to question why she always ended up comparing and contrasting Quinn and Finn. It was like the ex-power couple had an unbreakable bond in the depths of the brunette's mind. She didn't even think that it had to do with the fact that she had been so worried about Finn leaving her for Quinn once anymore. It was all about Quinn. The girl was a mystery to Rachel, she had always been. If Finn was a swimming pool and a shallow one at that, then Quinn is like an ocean. Rachel smiled to herself, satisfied with the way her metaphors were fitting the main actors of her thoughts. Quinn is deep, she is unpredictable and she certainly has a dark side. But she offers so much freedom. She got off her bed and walked towards her tiny desk, flipping open a textbook on musical theory and started chewing on her pencil mindlessly. Her mind was being especially uncooperative today. She pushed her chair away from the desk and reached to her phone lying on the bed. Her fingers quickly found the number she had been meaning to call ever since she got on the train back to New York. After a moment's hesitation, she pressed the call button.

Two nights ago…

"I know just the perfect song for us to do."That's what the blonde had told her. And her choice, as lame as it could have been, was perfect in a sense. To Rachel's surprise, Quinn had decided to go with Lean On Me to sing with the brunette.

"Are you serious?" the brunette asked with honest eyes. "Lean On Me? I thought you hated the way we put you on the spot with that song in Glee Club."

"I did. Kind of…" the blonde trailed off for a moment. "The thing is, I don't think I was ready to let anybody help me back then. My whole life seemed to be falling apart and I was so used to being alone at the top that somehow it didn't make sense that any one of you actually meant it, you know."

Rachel looked at the blonde with sad eyes. She looks like a freaking puppy like that. Yeap, the cutest puppy ever, Quinn thought. "I know now that you guys really meant it, though. At least some of you did." You did, right?

Suddenly, the blonde found herself being enveloped in a signature Rachel Berry hug. "Of course, we did, Quinn! I wish you had let us help you through all the things you had to go through. I wish we could have made things easier for you."

"Well… I wish that too. But I am getting better at this letting people be my friends thing, don't you think?"

"You certainly are," Rachel replied with a blinding smile. Quinn couldn't help but smile back to her, even though it was too late to go back and change her behavior back then, she had a chance to make things right now.

"Hi." Rachel said hurriedly when she heard the other person answer her call. Come on, you can do this. I mean, how hard can it be?

"Hello? Who is this?"

"Oh. Sorry, Santana I absolutely forgot that even though I had the numbers of all the Glee Club members on my phone we actually never exchanged our numbers. I apologize for that."

"Berry? What the hell?" the voice on the other side of the call was starting to sound more pissed off than Rachel thought it would.

"Yes, Santana, it is indeed me, Rachel Berry. Although I would appreciate it if you kept the cursing to-"

"-a minimum, yeah, I remember. So… what do you want Berry?" Even though the Latina sounded annoyed Rachel could tell that Santana was actually smirking.

"Can't I just call up a friend and talk to her if I wanted to?"

"Out of the blue? No way. Nah-uh." Busted. I wonder if she has psychic tendencies like I do. Oh… Rachel realized she had been quiet for a tad too long when Santana cleared her throat.

"Alright, I guess you're right. I was just wondering what you have been up to, and Quinn brought it up to my attention that we have both been in the same great city for a while now and we still haven't had our own little glee reunion. So what do you say?"

"Only if you manage to keep the ramblings to a minimum. Or I'll walk out."

"I assure you Santana, I'm perfectly capable of carrying out a normal conversation with my peers."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm already regretting this. Text me with when and where, okay? I gotta run now." And with that she hung up. Rude… Oh, well. Rachel smiled to herself again, feeling proud of her accomplishment for the day.

Two nights ago…

It was way past 1 am when they left the bar. It was starting to get chilly outside for the season. They started making their way back to Quinn's dorm, and somewhere along the way, they linked their arms. I don't want her to get cold, the blonde thought, but I hope she doesn't think I'm coming onto her or anything. I mean not that there is a reason for her to think that anyway. I'm just being a good friend to her. That's what friends do, right? Friends do not let their friends freeze to death.

"Quinn?" the soft voice of the brunette caused Quinn to jump from her train of thought. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah. Perfect." The blonde was about to chastise herself for her lack of a better response when the brunette responded with a beaming smile. Then Quinn felt it, again. That flip her stomach did anytime the brunette flashed her that speacial smile of hers. The elation she felt inside, the way her heart tried to push out of her chest and latch on to the brunette. The way Rachel became the only thing she could focus on in one single moment. Then she heard the brunette's almost inaudible response.

"Yeah, perfect…"

Quinn tried to stop it, she really did. She tried to silence that voice in her head telling her that maybe she did stand a chance with the tiny diva. That maybe she could forgive her for all the things she had done to torture her and that they could actually have a future together. She felt the hope rising inside her, it was almost a physical feeling, as if something was making its way up from behind her heart to her head. Then she immediately felt the dread. The fear that if she tried anything, the brunette would crush her hopes. That she would end up losing everything, including the friendship they were starting to form. Just get yourself together, Fabray.

"So, here we are." The blonde unlocked the door to her room and let the brunette in for the second time that day. "Well, since I only have one bed here in my room, I figured you could take the bed and I could sleep on the floor." She hurriedly explained when she noticed the way Rachel was eyeing the room.

"Nonsense Quinn. Your bed is big enough to accomodate both of us. I have no problems sleeping with another body next to mine, so long as you refrain from punching me in the face during a particularly bad dream." The blonde raised an eyebrow at that specific condition.

"Almost happened to me once when I was in kindergarten. Long story short, I don't want another trip to the plastic surgeon's to alter my nose." Rachel's face was devoid of emotion when she recalled that particular memory.

"Well, I am quite the heavy sleeper. I don't think I move at all during the night, so you're safe with me." The ex-cheerleader wanted to say a lot more things. She wanted to tell the brunette that she was beautiful, that she had always been. She wanted to explain to her that the only reason she accepted to help her along when she wanted to alter her appearance was because she had known noone else would have supported the diva. But she didn't. Instead she shrugged. "We're sharing the bed then."

"Thank you, Quinn." Rachel climbed on the bed and turned around to face the wall. "Good night."

"Sweet dreams, Rach."

Rachel made her way to her favorite small coffee shop. She breathed the cold city air, feeling more alive than ever. The city seemed to reflect the mood of its occupants, or at least that's how it seemed to her. She could feel the expectancy in the air, she could feel the tension in the clouds. The city was surging with life, the people had a purpose in their walk, a certain rush in their steps.

The brunette couldn't help but feel this way ever since she heard Quinn call her that nickname. It's just a silly thing that friends do. Like the way Santana calls you Berry, or midget, even, she tried to reason. But she felt as if the moment Quinn had called her Rach, something had shifted in their friendship. The next day, neither of them seemed to be so nervous around each other. They had walked around the campuses and Quinn had even managed to get Rachel into a music room at Yale without much trouble. They had spent the day mindlessly chatting, their arms linked at all times, the connection never breaking. And at night, they had fallen asleep in the exact same way they had the night before, Rachel facing the wall, and Quinn facing the door. Next morning, though, they had woken up side by side, both facing the ceiling. Their arms had been in full contact, and their hands apparently had managed to find a way to connect during the night. They hadn't said anything about the position they had woken up, they hadn't really had any time to discuss anything really. Soon, too soon, the brunette was hugging the blonde at the very train station she had arrived a couple of days ago and saying goodbye.

The door to the coffee shop opened as a customer left with a to-go cup in his hand. A wave of warmth hit Rachel in the face. She looked around quickly to see if Santana was already there. She let out a sigh of relief when she realized she was the first one to arrive. She made her way to the table in the corner and ordered a soy latte for herself. If the Latina was going to be late, she sure could spend her time waiting and getting warm at the same time.