Title: Not One of Them
Pairing: Rachel/Quinn
Summary: Quinn just wanted to be alone. Rachel just had bad timing.
Disclaimer: Glee is not mine.
Warning: G!P Rachel.
A/N: Hey, guys! It didn't even take that long, uh? Updates will probably not be so fast now, though, 'cause I just started my freshman year of college and I'm so lost it's not even funny. Living alone is fucking hard! I can't cook to save my life, seriously. How do people do this? Anyway, I hope you like this one and thank you for your reviews/favorites/alerts so far. It's amazing to see how much you like this story. Thanks, thanks, thanks! Oh, and if I don't update anymore, I probably poisoned myself trying to cook lunch or something. You've been warned ;)
xxx
There were two things Santana Lopez was really proud of. One of them was being able to call Brittany her girlfriend — she got a lot of crap in the beginning for that, but she never regretted coming out because Brittany was worth it. The bubbly girl was the only one that truly understood her and loved her; she basically danced her way into Santana's cold heart. The second thing, though, was that she was a fucking badass.
However, she wasn't feeling very badass with a pissed off Quinn pressing her against a wall of lockers in front of the rest of the school.
She'd never seen Quinn like that before. Sure, she did a lot of bitchy things that made the blonde captain flip more times than she could count and, sure, Quinn sometimes would slap her or punch her when she was really angry and, sure, they would go back to their normal routine after that because it was just Santana being Santana. But Quinn was never that angry.
It was in her eyes. The HBIC was fucking furious.
So maybe she deserved that one. Whatever... She did know Quinn would go crazy if some other girl payed attention to the hobbit because the girl was possessive as fuck and she did know things could get ugly when the blonde found out it was her job — and she would find out, Santana had no doubt about that. Maybe she should've thought about what to do when the truth came out. Like having Brittany close by to prevent the HBIC of making, you know, permanent damage or something like that. 'Cause Quinn could land a few good hits, Santana would know.
And she knew she was totally fucked when Quinn came out of fucking nowhere and pinned her against the lockers. There was no time to push her away; she had been walking down the hallway toward the cafeteria in one second and then she was trapped and facing murderous hazel eyes in the other.
"Let's have a nice chat, Lopez," Quinn growled loud enough for the rest of the crowded hallway to hear, too.
Santana's dark eyes widened slightly. "Fuck off, Fabray!"
Struggling to free herself of Quinn's tight grip, she'd never admit that a little whimper escaped her when the girl's nails sinked into her arms. One firm shove made her stop moving, though.
"Don't make it harder." A cold, quite scary smirk appeared on the HBIC's face. If she wasn't the one on the receiving end of that one, she would be impressed. "You went a little bit too far this time, Santana."
"I don't know what you are talking about, bitch."
That comment resulted in another shove and pain, but the Latina couldn't help herself. That was her usual backup plan — deny everything, even when all of the evidence pointed to her.
"Don't play with me." Quinn's smirk was nowhere to be found now and she finally let her emotionless mask fall. "You don't mess with what is fucking mine!"
"Last time I checked, I wasn't messing with anything that was yours," she retorted.
And there goes her plan... Jesus, just kill her already. Why the hell couldn't she just keep her big mouth shut?
"Oh, so now you know what I'm talking about."
The pain on her back and shoulders was quickly replaced by the sharp sting on her left cheek. Everybody that was watching the scene gasped when the blonde's hand connected with Santana's face, the smack painfully loud. No one dared come closer when Quinn slapped the shocked Latina again before grabbing her by the front of her uniform and basically trowing her against the opposite wall of lockers on the other side of the corridor.
Santana fell on her knees after her body collided with the lockers and barely had time to protect her face when Quinn's fist hit her.
The second hit never came, though, because strong arms circled the infuriated blonde's waist and pulled her away from her. The Latina slowly lowered her hands from her face and watched her girlfriend struggle to keep Quinn under control.
"Let me go, Brittany," the smaller blonde basically growled, but Brittany just ignored her. "Damn it!"
The dancer let out a relieved breath when she saw Rachel trying to get to them. People didn't get out of her way, too distracted watching the scene unfolding in front of them, so the diva had to push some of them to get to middle of the commotion. Her wide eyes went from Santana to her to Quinn quickly and she didn't hesitate to go to the angry blonde.
"Quinn, stop." Ignoring all eyes on them, she put one hand on the HBIC shoulder to grab her attention. Furious hazel eyes met hers and she went still for a moment. Her hands that were trying to push the dancer away squeezed her arms once before letting her go and Quinn just stood there, breathing heavily. "Let's get out of here."
Brittany didn't let her go immediately, though, afraid Quinn would go after Santana again as soon as she was free. But the smaller blonde wasn't looking at the kneeling Latina anymore, eyes focused on the girl in front of her. She was still mad; Brittany could feel how tense her body was. Probably would punch Santana a few more times if she had the chance, but Quinn could feel all eyes on them and wanted to get out of there just as much as she wanted to go after Santana.
When Quinn squeezed her arms one more time, Brittany finally let her go and took a step back. Without looking back, the angry girl silently walked away from them, her face blank as the other students jumped out of her way.
Rachel offered her a small nod. "I'll take care of it," she whispered so only Brittany could hear her and quickly went after Quinn. Just before she disappeared in the crowd, though, she looked at Santana with a mix of confusion and anger.
"The show is over," the Latina yelled when all eyes fell on her. "Get a life, losers!"
The crowd quickly dispersed as Santana got back on her feet. Brittany just watched her girlfriend tentatively touch under her left eye and wince. Her right cheek was red — as red as her tanned skin could get — and Quinn's single punch would definitely leave a bruise. That was not the first time one of them ended up with a black eye after they fought, but it always left Brittany feeling sad and a little bit helpless after.
Jesus, why couldn't they just argue with their words and not their fists?
Sighing, she finally came closer to the bruised girl to get a better look.
"You never learn, Santana," she said and shook her head.
A small smirk pulled at the Latina's mouth. "Told you I knew exactly how to push Quinn's buttons," she teased.
"I hope the black eye was worth it." The dancer ran her fingers over the bruise gently and sighed when Santana winced again.
"You know what would make me feel better?" Santana asked.
"What?"
"A kiss." She smirked again and puffed her cheek. When her girlfriend wiggled her eyebrows, Brittany finally let a small smile escape.
"You wish..." Brittany chuckled softly when Santana pouted. "Let's go put some ice on that."
Still pouting, the Latina let her girlfriend pull her to see the school nurse.
xxx
Rachel closed the door after her and sighed. On the diva's usual front-row seat, Quinn had her arms crossed over her chest and her brow was furrowed. She figured Quinn would want some space, so she went to sit on the piano stool and just waited for the blonde girl to calm down.
When the diva didn't join her after a minute, Quinn looked up from her lap. She found Rachel watching her from the other side of the choir room.
"Come here, dork."
Rachel walked toward her and sat down on the chair beside hers.
"How's your hand?" she asked gently and reached for the blonde's hand. Her knuckles were red from the punch. It probably wasn't much, but it stood out because of her pale skin. "Does it hurt?"
"Not really." Quinn shrugged. "It's not the first time I punched someone." Certainly not the first time she punched Santana.
All of her residual anger melted away when the smaller girl brought her hand to her face and softly kissed her red knuckles. It was such a simple gesture, almost... innocent. Quinn felt warmth spread through her as she watched the other girl in awe and her stomach flip-flopped when Rachel smiled at her — it wasn't her usual big, toothy grin, but a gentler one. More intimate.
Instead of letting her go, Rachel laid their joined hands on her lap.
"Are you feeling better?" Rachel asked.
Quinn had to clean her suddenly dry throat before she could answer. "Yes, I'm... calmer. I kind of lost it back there, uh?"
"Kind of." The diva smirked a little. "I thought you were going to kill Santana."
At the mention of the Latina's name, Quinn tensed again and let out a huff. She still couldn't believe the brunette's fucking nerve! That was not the first time Santana did something to piss her off and probably wouldn't be the last, but bringing Rachel into it was just... low.
"Hey, stop," Rachel called and gently squeezed her hand so it wouldn't hurt her. "Look at me, Quinn."
Hazel eyes met hers without hesitation. "She deserved that, Rachel."
"Maybe she did," she said. "I'm not saying that I think what Santana did was right, because it wasn't. I'm angry, too. Well, maybe I wouldn't, you know, punch her..." Because Santana would definitely punch her back and Rachel had no doubt that the Latina would not be the one spotting a black eye after that. Rachel was good at a lot of things — fighting, unfortunately, was not one of them. "But I could give her a good Rachel Berry rant about boundaries and respect."
Rachel could see how that one would go. Santana would probably prefer someone punched her instead. Or maybe she would just end up punching Rachel to shut her up, anyway.
"That's very Rachel Berry of you," Quinn teased with an amused smile.
"Thanks."
Quinn squeezed her hand back and took a deep breath. "It's just— This week was a mess."
Well, if that wasn't a freaking understatement. Quinn felt on edge all week. Jealousy was not something she was used to feeling and it just took her by surprise; it was like fire, burning her from the inside and making it impossible for her to think. Every time she saw one of those damn cheerleaders around Rachel, she felt angry and sick and upset, all at the same time; the crazy mix of emotions was overwhelming. It was something she never experienced while dating Finn — someone she dated for three years — and it caught her off guard.
When she found out Santana was the one responsible for all that — and, really, she should have seen that coming because the Latina was always involved somehow —, she didn't think before going after her. In that moment, Quinn felt like she could punch the other girl into a coma.
"Oh, I know. Trust me." Rachel still couldn't believe what happened.
And that was when it finally hit her how Santana's little prank really affected Rachel. The Latina basically told the whole school about something that was so... personal. From the month she got to spend with the diva, she got that her condition was something very delicate for the girl. The entire town knew about her, so she fought fiercely to keep whatever she could a secret. What Santana did was way out of line.
It just made Quinn want to punch the girl all over again.
"Wait, are you okay?" the blonde asked.
Rachel shrugged. "I don't know," she answered her honestly. "I think I'm still... shocked."
"She had no right to do what she did." Quinn frowned.
"Yes, but—," she stopped for a second to take a deep breath. "It could've been worse, I guess. At least no one can say anything really bad about it, you know? Now, could you imagine what they would say if they somehow found out I can't get someone pregnant instead?" The diva let out a humorless laugh. "I can hear all the jokes already."
"That's— that's not funny."
"Not for me." She offered the frowning blonde a sad smile.
Sighing, Quinn brought their joined hands to her own lap. Her jealousy issues sounded small and stupid after what Rachel said.
"Maybe I'll go talk to her later," Rachel said after a minute of silence.
After Santana's stunt, Quinn didn't like the idea of Rachel being alone with the Latina.
"Can I go with you?" she asked.
"You could." Rachel smiled. "But only if you promise me you won't do anything to Santana and that you'll let us talk without interrupting." Her smile grew when the blonde grumbled beside her, unhappy with the diva's conditions. "Yeah, that's what I thought."
"Whatever, Berry," the blonde mumbled, but smiled too when Rachel bumped their shoulders playfully and chuckled. "I won't be far, though." She was satisfied when Rachel just nodded this time. Actually, knowing that Quinn would be near made her feel better.
The sound of the bell brought them back to the real world. Lunch time was over and Rachel pouted a little when she thought about her untouched salad inside her locker. With all the confusion, she completely forgot about eating. She was pretty sure her empty stomach would not let her forget it again for the next few hours until school was over.
"What's wrong?" Quinn asked as she got up from the chair, bringing Rachel with her because she refused to let the girl's hand go just yet.
"I'm hungry, Quinn."
The husky chuckle that came out of the blonde sent shivers down her spine.
"How about this," she began. "We'll go to the grocery store after school so I can get a few things and then we'll go to my house. I'll feed you."
Rachel's miserable pout quickly became one of her toothy grins. "That sounds awesome."
"Yeah, well... my mom still hopes I'll end up as a housewife someday, so I can do a decent job in the kitchen." She rolled her eyes. "I never tried to do anything that's vegan friendly before that it's not salad, though. It should be fun."
"Is it weird that thinking about you cooking turns me on?"
Her laughed loudly this time, something she usually didn't do at school.
"A little," she said. "But you're weird, anyway."
"Whatever, Fabray." Rachel bumped their shoulders again while they walked. "We both know you love it."
Quinn's husky chuckle was the only response she got.
xxx
"Santana, wait!"
The Latina was almost at her car, but she stopped and looked over her shoulder. Her eyes found Rachel first, walking down the crowded parking lot toward her. Secondly, they found Quinn. The blonde girl was standing not far, near her own car, and she was watching her with narrowed eyes, almost like she was challenging her to do something.
Turning around, she crossed her arms over her chest and waited for the smaller girl to come closer. Her eyes never left Quinn's, though. That damn bitch gave her a fucking black eye that day and she'd be damned if she let her think she intimidated her or some shit like that.
"What do you want, Hobs?" she spat before the other girl could open her mouth.
Beside her, Rachel frowned a little when she got a better look of Santana's face.
"Are you okay?"
Santana's dark eyes finally left the other cheerleader and met hers. The girl was biting her lip and actually waiting for her to answer. "Why do you care, Berry?" she asked, her tone softer. She was confused because Rachel really looked concerned.
"I... I don't usually condone violence. But— Well, I guess you deserved that one." She smiled a little when Santana rolled her eyes. "You really did, Santana. But, again, are you okay? Did you put some ice on that?"
That girl was really something else. Maybe she was stupid — that was the Latina's theory, anyway — or maybe that's just what a good person should act like. Whatever, it's not like Santana would know... The way Rachel cared for people that treated her like crap just never failed to shock her. It kind of saddened her — and, no, she would never admit that something could actually make her sad because, well, Santana fucking Lopez do not do sad — that, one day, caring about someone who doesn't deserve it could really hurt the tiny diva to a point she would stop caring about those who actually do.
"Yes, Hobs, I put ice on it," she finally answered.
Rachel nodded shortly, satisfied. "Good. You should put more when you get home, though."
"I will." She let her shoulders drop and relaxed for the first time since Quinn pinned her against the lockers that morning. "Really, though. What do you want?"
"I... I wanted to ask you something," the diva said after hesitating for a second. Brown eyes searched darker ones, but there was no anger or hostility in them. Santana was just calmly waiting for her to continue. "Why did you do that, Santana?"
Sighing, the Latina uncrossed her arms and gestured toward her car with her head. Without waiting, she took a few more steps until she could lean against the side of her red Toyota. She wanted to be comfortable because something was telling her that conversation would not be brief.
"Do you want me to be honest?" she started, smirking lightly when Rachel chuckled.
"Yes, Santana, that would be great."
"Okay, then." She took a deep breath before continuing. "I know you're thinking I'm a huge bitch for doing what I did and that I only did it to piss Quinn off. Well, I did want to piss her off because, you know, that's what I do. Someone has to make things a little bit more interesting around here. But that was not the only reason and I don't regret doing it."
Rachel scoffed. "You got a black eye out of it," she pointed out.
"And I look fucking badass because of that," Santana teased, her smirk growing when the smaller girl rolled her eyes. "Do you seriously think I don't look hotter? Come on, Berry. You don't have to hide it, Hobs, Q's not around right now. No need to be afraid of getting one yourself."
"You're terrible."
"I know." She shrugged. "Can't do much about that. Anyway, I don't regret doing it — black eye or not — because it wasn't just about the fun. I mean, it was really funny to see Q all red, glaring at everyone that came too close to you. But I also did it—." Jesus, that was painful. "Because of you."
The diva's shocked expression was priceless. "Excuse me— what?"
"Well, I did torture you for a very, very long time and I'll probably never apologize because I don't do stuff like that," Santana said.
"Yes, I guess you have to have a heart to feel remorse," Rachel commented, getting a glare from the Latina.
"Shut it, Hobs. Like I was saying, you're not getting an apology out of me, so if you're waiting for one, you are fucking wasting your time. But I still felt like I should do something for you — you can call it a miracle or some shit like that. So that's the other reason I did. That, Hobs, was Santana Lopez trying to make it up to you."
Rachel shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I don't get it. How is that supposed to benefit me?"
"Are you kidding me? How many numbers did you get this week?" she asked, knowingly.
The blush that tinted the other girl's face was all too telling. "A few."
"More like a lot, you mean." The Latina smirked. "You have basically all the Cheerio's squad wanting to ride 'big Berry'. Not even Puck has that, Hobs."
"And how is that something good?" Rachel continued, face still red. "Those girls hated me just last week."
"So did Q a month ago, but you still let her get into your pants," Santana pointed out.
That made the girl stop and think for a minute. Santana watched her as she looked away, probably toward the blonde girl that was still watching them carefully from the other side of the parking lot. She looked lost.
"That's... different," she finally said.
"How?"
Rachel didn't have an answer for that.
"Look," Santana continued when the small girl didn't say anything after a few long seconds. "You don't have to do anything about it, okay? I just wanted to give you some options. Keep doing your thing with Quinn if that's what makes you happy or whatever. I don't care, Hobs. But know that if you don't want it anymore, you won't be alone if you end it. Q is not the only girl who wants you anymore."
"I—." Rachel's eyes met hers again and she offered her a sad smile, finally getting it. "Well, I won't thank you if you're not apologizing," she teased.
Chuckling, the Latina nodded. "Fair enough."
"And I'm still kinda angry that you just told everyone about my..." She gestured toward her crotch and blushed again.
"'Big Berry'?" Santana smirked.
"Santana."
"What?" she asked innocently.
Rachel shook her head again. "You know, maybe you do have a heart, after all..."
"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"
While the diva laughed, Santana took her keys out of her book bag and turned around to unlock her car.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Berry," she said. "You should probably go back to Q before she punches you or something. Do me a favor and fuck the anger out of her, please. Hotter or not, I don't feel like getting another black eye soon."
Still chuckling, the diva started to walk away. "Bye, Santana. Put some ice on that eye!"
"What are you? My mother?" she grumbled just loud enough for the girl to hear before closing the door.
The last thing she saw before getting out of the parking lot was the way the diva smiled when she reached Quinn's car. Her eye was bruised and hurting like a bitch, but there was something inside her chest that made her ignore it. It was warm and funny.
Doing nice things was so weird.
xxx
"Does it really taste like cheese?"
Beside her, Rachel tilted her head to the right. "It's very tasty, yes."
"That's not what I asked, dork." Quinn smiled and shook her head when the girl grinned.
The grocery store was a small one and it was almost empty. It was the only place in Lima Quinn knew that sold vegan friendly products and Rachel was probably there all the time because the cashier waved at her when the walked in.
"I don't really remember what cheese taste like, so I can't answer your question," Rachel admitted while she accepted the cheese substitute the blonde passed her and put it inside their cart. They started to walk down the isle again. "I've being vegan since I was five. My dad is vegan, too, and when he explained to me why he didn't eat certain things, I joined him. Daddy was not happy, though."
"Why not?"
The diva shrugged. "It was complicated because it changed a lot of my eating habits. They took me to a doctor so I could get some vitamins," she explained. "I was growing up and I needed them. Daddy used to say it would be a lot easier if I just got them eating like a 'normal person', but I refused to even touch meat or drink milk after dad told me what they did to those poor animals."
They stopped again so Quinn could get a few more ingredients for their early dinner. As she picked a couple of tomatoes, the blonde smirked.
"I don't think them worked, though," she said before she passed the diva the tomatoes, going for the onions after.
Rachel frowned. "What didn't work?"
"The vitamins." She looked over her shoulder and chuckled. "I mean, did you grow up at all since you were five? It doesn't look like it." She laughed louder when the small girl pretended to be annoyed. The corner of her mouth trembling while she tried not to smile gave her away.
"You're not funny, Fabray," the diva said as she pushed their cart away from the laughing blonde. The rich sound was like music to her ears, something she only got to hear when they were alone.
Quinn quickly went after her, onions in hand. "Yes, I am."
"No, you're not." It was Rachel's turn to laugh when the blonde hit her arm with an onion lightly. "Okay, maybe a little. But just when you're not making fun of me."
"I'll stop," Quinn promised. They walked together in silence for a moment until the blonde's soft voice broke it again. "They must be nice. Your dads, I mean."
Rachel smiled. "They are."
"You don't talk a lot about them, though."
"Well, you don't talk a lot about your parents, either," the diva pointed out.
The blonde's brow furrowed slightly as she thought about it. She really didn't talk a lot about her parents, but that was because she didn't have a lot to say about them. Occasionally, she'd mention them. Only when it was necessary, though.
"There isn't a lot to tell," she said. "I used to spend a lot of time with my mom when I was little. Frannie was more of a daddy's girl. It was all very... ordinary, you know? I'm not sure what changed. My parents started fighting a lot and things got ugly sometimes. I don't how ugly, though, because Frannie would always take me up to her room and close the door so we couldn't hear what they were saying.
"That was when my mom started drinking and dad started to spend a lot more time in his office. Frannie was there and helped me a lot, but she went to college a year later and it was just the three of us then. It's so... weird. I know they don't really talk to each other like before, but we still have to act like nothing is wrong, like we're this perfect family." She sighed. "But that's what it is — an act."
She felt Rachel's hand on her arm, warm against her skin. It was a light touch, but it was enough to make her feel better.
"I'm sorry, Quinn."
"It's not your fault my parents suck, dork," she said. "I just can't wait to get out of that house, you know? To get out of this stupid town. Frannie did it, so why can't I?"
"You will," Rachel assured her, squeezing her arm gently before letting her go. "You're talented, you're smart and you're determined. You can go wherever you want to go, Quinn. I know you can."
Quinn was about to thank her when a girl came out of nowhere and threw her arms around the diva. Surprised, the blonde took a step back and frowned deeply when all she could see was dark hair, long legs and Rachel's small hands on the girl's back.
"What the fuck?" the blonde murmured to herself.
She was about to grab the girl and pull her away from her— her friend, but Rachel's low laughter made her stop mid step.
"Jesus, are you trying to kill me?" the diva asked as she pushed the girl away gently, smiling widely. There was something in her eyes that Quinn never saw before; it was warm and caring and trusting, almost like love. It made Quinn's stomach drop.
The girl laugh was soft. "You know I wouldn't do that, Rae."
"Oh, you would. Without hesitating," she added, making the girl roll her eyes playfully. "What are doing here?"
"I'm here with my mom. She's buying some stuff for dinner 'cause Noah ate all of our food." She grinned and pushed her hair out of her face with one hand. "What about you, Rae?"
The diva smiled again. "I'm here with Quinn."
Quinn was so focused on the girl that apparently only noticed her after Rachel mentioned her name that she didn't catch the soft way the smaller brunette said her name or how proud she sounded when she did it. Familiar dark eyes found hers for the first time and it confused her because she was pretty sure she never saw that girl before. She was sure she'd remember if she did.
There was something... exotic about her. She was young, maybe thirteen or fourteen because she wasn't in high school yet, but she didn't really look like a kid. Her skin was tanned, her long hair was dark, almost black, and she was tall. Taller than Rachel, actually, what was kind of amusing because the diva was a least three years older. Her dark eyes gave her away, though. There was this permanent, juvenile glint in them, something you would see in a kid's eyes just before they did something they knew they shouldn't.
"So you are Quinn," the girl said as she eyed her.
Almost immediately, the blonde felt her walls she let down while alone with Rachel coming back up. She raised her chin and narrowed her eyes because the girl was smirking like she knew a secret of hers.
"And who the hell are you?" she spat back.
While the girl chuckled, amused with the reaction she got out of the beautiful blonde, Quinn felt Rachel's hand on her arm again. It made her relax a bit and she hesitantly took her eyes away from the laughing girl, looking at the diva beside her instead.
"Quinn." Rachel used a warning tone. "This is Ruth, Puck's little sister."
"And Rachel's best friend," Ruth added. "I heard a few interesting things about you, Quinn Fabray."
So that's why the girl was looking at her like that. Frowning, she took a step away from the diva and shoot her an accusingly look. Their thing was supposed to be a secret and it was bad enough that Santana knew about them — and probably Brittany because that girl knew about everything. Rachel shouldn't be telling other people about it, specially not a kid. What the hell was she thinking?
"Ruth, stop," the diva said firmly, her warning tone now directed at the smirking girl. That made Ruth huff and roll her eyes, but that damn glint never left them. Turning to face her, the diva groaned internally when she saw the way Quinn was looking at her and her tense posture. "Quinn—."
"You told her?" the blonde interrupted her.
Rachel sighed. "Yeah, I did. But, listen, I—."
"Rachel! What the fuck?" she exclaimed, cutting her off again.
"Hey!" Ruth stepped closer to the smaller one of them, standing protectively beside Rachel. "You better watch your tone, Barbie!"
Quinn glared at her. "No one is talking to you, little girl."
"What's going on here?"
The strong voice made them all freeze. Behind Ruth, a tall woman was looking at them with narrowed eyes.
Rachel was the first one to recover from the shock. "Mrs. Puckerman, hi!"
The woman's eyes softened a little and she even smiled when she looked at Rachel. Letting go of the full cart she was pushing, Mrs. Puckerman opened her arms and waited for the small girl that was almost like a daughter to her to come closer.
"Rachel, darling, how have you been?" she asked after she let the girl go.
"I've been good." Rachel grinned. "I missed your vegetable soup, though."
Mrs. Puckerman chuckled and ran her hand through the girl's messy hair, trying to tame it. "It's been so long since you came over for dinner. You should join us this Sunday and I'll make you some soup." She looked over at her daughter, who was making a face. "We both know how much Ruth loves vegetable soup."
Ruth huffed. "It's just water and vegetables!"
Ignoring her indignant daughter, the older woman finally looked at the silent blonde standing not far from them. The girl was really stunning, classically beautiful and elegant. And her hazel eyes were studying her just like she was doing with her.
"And who is this one, Rachel?" she asked.
The way Rachel's brown eyes lighted up surprised her. "This is Quinn, Mrs. Puckerman."
"Oh." She eyed the blonde again, but the girl wasn't looking at her anymore. Her eyes were on the girl beside her and she had a small smile on her face. "Is she your girlfriend?"
The small smile disappeared immediately and she saw how tense both girls became as soon as she asked her question. Rachel's wide eyes met hers and she shook her head quickly.
"No, ma'am. We're just friends," Quinn said calmly, even though she was freaking out on the inside.
Ruth huffed again. "Friends my ass," she murmured to herself, but loud enough for Quinn to understand what she said.
"What was that?" her mother asked.
"Nothing!" The girl grinned again and bounced her way toward Rachel, giving her a warm hug. "This was fun, but I'm kinda hungry. I'll talk to you later, Rae."
Mrs. Puckerman smiled. "You really should come by on Sunday, sweetheart."
"I will," Rachel assured her.
"I was nice to meet you, Quinn," the woman added to the still silent girl. The only response she got was a polite nod. "Bye, girls."
"Bye, Barbie!" Ruth called and gave the blonde a fake smile, only to drop it and pout when Rachel pinched her arm. Ignoring the diva's glare, the younger girl turned around and went after her mother, who had already disappeared down the aisle.
When it was finally just the two of them again, Quinn let her blank mask fall and took a deep breath to calm her nerves. She hadn't been prepared for what had just happened and she hated being caught off guard. With her eyes closed, she didn't notice Rachel was coming closer until she felt the brunette's hand on her arm again.
"Quinn," Rachel called softly and squeezed the blonde's arm to get her attention.
She opened her eyes and looked around them to make sure there was no one near. "Why would you tell someone about us, Rachel?"
"She doesn't know about everything. I just... I had to talk to someone."
"And you choose her?" Quinn asked incredulously. "She's a kid!"
Rachel opened her mouth to answer, but closed it after a few seconds and shook her head. Offering the confused blonde a sad smile, she looked away from her before finally answering. "And who else should I have talked to?" She shrugged. "She was my only friend."
That hit Quinn like a slap to the face. Speechless, the blonde just watched the way Rachel sighed and turned to face her again. Those usually soft eyes were a little sad, but they were still warm and gentle.
"Ruth is like a little sister to me and she is the only person beside my dads and Mrs. Puckerman that never judged me for being... me," the diva continued when Quinn continued to just watch her. That same look from before — caring, trusting, loving — came back while she talked about the younger girl. "And, yeah, she was the only friend I had for a very, very long time and she was the only person that I felt comfortable enough to talk about what's been happening in my life this last month."
"I get it, dork," Quinn said when the diva was finished. "And I'm glad you actually had someone to talk to, but we have to be careful."
Rachel squeezed her arm again. "I trust her more than anyone else, okay?" And even though she didn't let it show, that small admission felt just like another slap to her. "Ruth can be immature sometimes and she is always causing trouble — it's the Puckerman blood, I'm sure of it —, but she is also very protective and caring. She'd never do something that could possibly hurt me. She won't tell anyone about us, Quinn."
Quinn let out a small smile to show the other girl that she believed her before taking a step back. It was only then that she noticed she was still holding those damn onions, so she quickly put them inside their cart and started to walk again, knowing that Rachel wouldn't be too far.
While she looked for the few things that she still had to buy, she couldn't stop thinking about the fact that, in the last month that they spent together, Rachel didn't mention Puck's sister once before that time in the choir room. The younger girl was her best friend; still, Quinn had no idea she even existed until that day.
So determined to find herself and share it with the one person she knew wouldn't judge her, she finally noticed Rachel didn't get the chance to do the same. For someone that could talk so much people wanted to punch her so she would shut up, Rachel was a very good listener. She let the blonde talk about whatever she wanted, never interrupting her and giving her all of her attention. In just a month, she already knew so much about the girl behind the cold mask and cheerleader uniform.
But Quinn wanted to know everything about her, too. She wanted to learn about the small details; about her childhood, her family and her relationship with the Puckermans. Why was Puck's sister her best friend when Puck himself acted like he hated her? She wanted to know about her struggles while growing up with her condition and how hard it still was to live surrounded by close-minded assholes — it still saddened her that she used to act just like them. She wanted to know about her vegan diet, about her music— she wanted to know about Rachel.
Huffing, she gave her credit card to the cashier while the diva put their things inside two paper bags.
"Ready?" Rachel asked her and smiled, picking up their bags.
Quinn smiled back and nodded. "Yeah. Let's go make some dinner."
And while she drove them to her empty house with the diva singing softly beside her, Quinn promised herself she would learn every single thing that made Rachel the unique, talented, caring person she was.
xxx
"You know," Rachel said as she moved her food around her plate. "I'm here a lot. Aren't you worried about your neighbors telling your parents something?"
"Not really." Quinn took another bite of her vegan lasagna before continuing. "They can tell my parents that some girl is here with me a lot, but they don't know who you are. I'll just tell them you're Santana. It's not like my parents will be around to see it for themselves."
Satisfied with blonde's answer, Rachel went back to her own food.
While the girl happily ate her dinner, Quinn took the opportunity to just watch her. It was getting colder and colder as November went, so the diva borrowed one of Quinn's old long-sleeved shirts to wear inside the warm house instead of her thick sweater. The shirt was too big for her, though, so she had to keep pushing it up her arms every now and then to use her hands. It was very cute and there was something so hot about seeing Rachel wearing her clothes.
After having to see her whole squad going after the girl that week, it felt damn right to see Rachel in her shirt. It pleased her possessive side very much.
"How is your hand?" Rachel suddenly asked, oblivious to the way Quinn's eyes darkened as she watched her. "Does it hurt? We should probably put some ice on it."
Her eyes softened a little and she smiled. "My hand is fine, don't worry about it."
"Are you sure? 'Cause you should've seen Santana's face." Rachel reached out and gently ran her fingers over the girl's knuckles. They were still a little red. "You did some nice damage, Quinn. It must be hurting a little."
Damn right, she did.
"It's nothing I can't handle." She covered the brunette's hand with her own and squeezed it softly before letting her go and getting up from her chair. With her empty plate in one hand, she took Rachel's with her free one and disappeared inside the kitchen. She'd wash those later, though; right there, she had more important things to do.
When she came back to the dining room, Rachel was playing with her sleeves and humming some song to herself. Smiling fondly, the blonde wrapped her arms around the girl's waist from behind and kissed her cheek.
"You know what?" she started as she kissed the girl again, just under her left ear this time. "My hand is just fine, but all this week was so stressing. I can think of a few things that could help us relax a little bit right now."
Chuckling, the diva turned around and pecked her lips. "Just a few?"
Quinn nodded and leaned in to kiss her again, sighing when Rachel's soft lips massaged hers before the girl's hot tongue invaded her mouth. Her fingers ran over the old shirt, up her back and down her sides as she let the brunette explore her mouth. After all the angry sex they had that week, she really wanted to take her time and just enjoy it.
"My room," she said against the girl's lips. "I want a bed."
Rachel giggled. "Yes, that would be nice."
Finding the stairs while kissing was not a easy task, but they were nothing but determined. They did bump a few times against walls and tables, but after some whines and laughter, they were finally making their way upstairs.
They went silent, though, when they heard the front door open.
"Quinnie, I'm home!"
Shocked, the blonde stared wide eyed at the girl in front of her who had one hand under her shirt and the same fearful expression on her flushed face.
"Holy crap!"
xxx
Please, don't hate me.
That was a long one! Anyway, thank you for reading and let me know what you think (: