(1)

Rachel was naked. And that meant that Quinn wanted to get naked, too. She likened it to a chemical reaction. Or a craving of sorts. Rachel Berry was like nicotine and that made Quinn Fabray a two-pack a day smoker. Her hands fidgeted just watching Rachel crawl on the bed. She itched to get her fingers all over that girl.

This was clearly an invitation. Quinn could view it from no other prism. Her body heated up – damn near burnt her alive – at the sight of Rachel. She unbuttoned her pants and took a cautious but sure step closer to the bed. There'd been no sex – no sex! – in her life for two weeks. But maybe Rachel was finally willing to believe her. And allow them to move on by moving against each other.

During this fortnight from the seventh circle of hell, Rachel had developed the annoying habit of wearing a towel out of the bathroom when she'd finished showering. Or she'd emerge completely dressed. But now? She was still naked! She was on the bed! Rachel might as well have handed Quinn a match from which to light up the cigarette that would fuel her addiction.

Quinn practically ripped off her pants and was preparing to lunge at Rachel when the other girl glanced at her, rolled over on her side, and started crying. Again. For maybe the fiftieth time since this whole ordeal started. Quinn's body deflated and she sank down beside Rachel with a weary sigh.

Rachel turned to face Quinn. "And that smug look she gave me right before we filmed the Flan for Two segment! Like it was her silent way of reminding me that she knows what you look like without your clothes!"

It was blatantly, unjustly unfair that Rachel was blessed with that body and she wasn't letting Quinn touch her due to some stupid misunderstanding. Quinn chanced it. She spooned Rachel and rattled off the same story she'd been feeding Rachel for weeks. "She's lying, Rachel. We only went out for pizza."

Rachel scooted closer to Quinn. "You don't know how hard this has been for me. Her spreading rumors that she slept with you. Ryan stepping in to stop them by offering her a role on Glee. I have to see her every day, Quinn! Every day!" Rachel turned on the waterworks full force.

But Quinn wasn't concentrating on that. She was holding a naked Rachel. Her body felt engulfed, drenched in lighter fluid that Rachel had set on fire. She could perhaps, maybe (probably?) get something going with Rachel. Comfort sex! Yes, that could be her angle. She ran her fingers through Rachel's damp hair and cooed into her ear. "I'm sorry that this is so bad for you. And I hate Heather for trying to cause problems. But…it'll get better. And I miss you. Stop being mad at me, okay?"

Rachel stretched and pointed her toes toward the edge of the bed. God speed to the inventor of the pogo stick. Rachel's thighs were the absolute best that Quinn had ever seen them. She had to, had to, had to make this work for her. She glided a trembling finger across Rachel's thigh, but Rachel swiped Quinn's hand away.

Groaning in defeat and (more to the point) intense disappointment, Quinn faced away from Rachel. Blocked again! Plus, to make matters worse, her mind chose that moment to focus on the studio. She was sure she'd been mere days away from convincing Rachel that it was best to give in to the inevitable: She needed to sign over her half of the studio to Quinn. But as soon as Rachel had found out about Heather, she'd staunchly refused to even broach the subject. Quinn sensed this was a journey she'd have to start all over again. But, this time, the destination was far less certain.

When Quinn was able to look over at Rachel again without spontaneously combusting, the first thing she noticed was that Rachel had rested one hand at the bottom edge of her stomach…so damn close to where Quinn wanted to touch. In what she hoped would pass as a soothing gesture, Quinn put her hand on top of Rachel's. She let her index finger dip the slightest bit lower. Her body was on the edge of a meltdown and only Rachel could calm it.

As if reading her mind, Rachel dropped their joined hands to – yes! – exactly where Quinn wanted them. She had the insane urge to break into song, especially when Rachel casually moved her own hand, leaving only Quinn's in its place. Thank God! She was right there! Finally there! She didn't hesitate. Quinn inched a finger across Rachel's clit and damn near fainted when Rachel keened below her with a strangled whimper.

But that was all she got out of Rachel. She stilled Quinn's hand and gazed at her harshly. "This is about you having sex with me, isn't it?"

Quinn tried to wiggle her fingers against Rachel, but the other girl had her in a death grip. Trying valiantly not to scream, Quinn said, "This is about us communicating with each other again. Only in the physical sense. You know?" Quinn nodded at Rachel. "The sex will bring us closer."

Continuing to hold Quinn's hand hostage, Rachel smiled at her. "Is that so? You really think?" Rachel maneuvered Quinn's fingers down the length of her and, oh God, Rachel was so wet that Quinn's hand came away dripping.

Quinn moaned and clambered half-way on top of Rachel before she pushed her back down. Quinn very nearly screamed. "Jesus, Rachel, what gives? I don't like the mixed signals game."

Speaking as if she wasn't naked and clearly about to soak through the sheets, Rachel nonchalantly replied, "I require a firm answer from you with regard to this Finn situation…or I will happily buy you a vibrator to satisfy your increasingly demanding sexual appetite."

Quinn froze and Rachel took advantage by wrapping her legs around her. Rachel was being unnecessarily cruel. Now she was spreading her wetness along the length of Quinn's thighs. All the while keeping an image of Finn fucking Hudson in Quinn's mind. Rachel had promised Quinn that she'd only have to go out with Finn a few times. And Finn was willing. Rachel told her that he'd been tooling around Burt's tire shop and was more than happy to escape the drudgery for a while.

Quinn shut her eyes tightly and attempted to block out the sound of Rachel's soft moaning as she rocked slowly but purposefully against her. Through clenched teeth, Quinn managed to speak. "If I agree to it, Rachel, can we put this behind us? All the crap about Heather?"

Rachel beamed down at her. "Mostly. I'll forgive you ninety percent. And we'll think of something later to get you fully to one hundred." Rachel pushed faster and with more purpose. She lifted the edges of Quinn's shirt.

Quinn was suddenly dizzy with lust and anticipation. "Fine. You bet. Bring Finn Hudson to me."

Quinn's shirt was almost off her body when Rachel's phone dinged from across the room. Rachel dropped her hands. "Oh! It's time for me to send out my daily Glee Tweet." Rachel eyed the bedside clock and sprinted off Quinn and out of bed. "Fuck! I'm gonna be late for Alex's movie premiere!" Glaring accusatorily at Quinn, Rachel's next remark was biting. "You distracted me. Grab my phone and Tweet something Glee-related for me. I need to get dressed and back over to my place before my make-up team arrives."

Quinn couldn't have felt worse if Rachel had just punched her in the face and told her she was now under contract with FOX studios. She was disheartened, irritated, unquenched. She'd just agreed to date Finn Hudson and Rachel was still withholding sex from her. Fuck it all! Stomping across the room, Quinn couldn't hide her irritation. "And what, exactly, would you have me Tweet?"

"I don't know! Think of something." Rachel was preoccupied. By something other than her being fucked by Quinn. She called out to Quinn from the bathroom. "There's a Glee marathon on Oxygen. Find out what episode is playing and Tweet about that."

Mimicking Rachel's voice under her breath, Quinn punched at the TV remote until she found the carbon copy of Rachel Berry singing to her from the screen. Lea was belting out Don't Rain on My Parade.

But Quinn was much more intrigued with the glimpse of Rachel she saw reflected to her from the bathroom mirror. Ah, look at her fucking ass! Quinn could endure it no longer. Barely glancing at the phone, Quinn typed out paaarraaaaaadddeee, hit the Tweet button, and dashed across the room.

Quinn wouldn't be greedy. She'd be quick. But Rachel wasn't leaving this apartment until she'd allowed Quinn to extinguish those flames that were burning her body alive.

(2)

"That Tweet you sent the other day wasn't the wisest of choices."

Quinn uncovered her eyes and focused on Rachel. It was too, too early in the morning for conversation. "How come?"

Rachel gave her a pointed stare. "Is someone forgetting about my stalker?"

Oh, yeah, the stalker! And Quinn guessed that was the correct term…in the broadest sense of the word. Someone kept leaving Rachel notes with the words Here I Am type-written in a bold, rather forceful font on an otherwise blank business card. The stalker had left one in Rachel's mailbox. Another in the parking attendant's booth at the Paramount lot where Glee filmed. And a third Quinn had found yesterday morning. It had been taped to the main door of the dance studio.

Rachel continued, "In the future, please refrain from mentioning Don't Rain on My Parade. You'll only give this person more ammunition."

Quinn buried herself under the covers again. "In the future, Tweet things for yourself. I'm not on the payroll."

Rachel snatched the blanket from Quinn and snapped her fingers in Quinn's face. "And don't forget about your date with Finn tonight. The prom episode airs next week and I need those public sightings of you two so that I can reference you to the press."

"This will never work, Rachel. I guarantee it."

Rachel huffed as she zipped her pants and reached for her sweater. "Of course it will. Ryan wants me to promote the episode by talking about my prom experience. And how I wished that I'd had one like yours. Your date was the high school stud – someone a lot like Charlie – and you told me at the time how happy you were that Finn was yours and you'd never wanted anything more in your life."

Quinn waved her hands at Rachel. "Let me stop you. That's not how it happened, though. I went to the prom by myself. And I spent a great deal of my time dancing with you."

Rachel adopted her best "I'm speaking to an idiot" tone. "No, your date was Finn. And Ryan wants to use your reignited romance with Finn to show parallels to Lea's relationship with Charlie. Because, at the end of the prom, it appears as if Charlie and Lea are no longer together. We want to reassure the audience that not all is lost between them. True love will find a way…just like with you and Finn!"

Quinn needed a Vicodin. She already had a raging headache. "Remind me, please, why are you and Charlie no longer the golden couple when prom is over?"

Rachel stomped her foot and whipped around to face Quinn. "I wish, Quinn, that Glee meant at least a little something to you. To clue you in – again! – Lea accidentally outs Charlie on Flan for Two. Consequently, Charlie gets voted in as prom queen, runs out of the auditorium, and slaps Lea when she follows after him."

"Dramatic," Quinn mumbled under her breath.

Rachel threw a hairbrush at her. "It's all part of the revolutionary statement Ryan intends to make!"

"I wish he'd speed it up a little bit."

Rachel pounded her foot down on the ground for a second time. "I don't have the energy to keep having the same discussion with you over and over! I have to be on location in half an hour so they can put that stupid panda suit on me again."

Faking seriousness, Quinn inquired, "How's that scene coming along?"

"How do you think, Quinn? Three days I've been trapped inside a panda suit. Three days! All because Ryan finally got the rights to the Guns N' Roses catalogue for a tribute episode."

Quinn yawned, yanked the covers back over her, and followed Rachel's movements around the bedroom. "But there aren't really many pandas in tropical areas. Couldn't you be a, I don't know, monkey or something? That would work better for Welcome to the Jungle."

Rachel threw up her arms in exasperation. "It's a way to sell songs. It doesn't have to fit within the plot!"

Again holding off on laughing, Quinn asked, "Those guys still hanging around the lot?"

She knew this was going to set Rachel's nerves on edge. When on-set pictures leaked of Rachel in that ridiculous get-up, a group of men showed up outside the studio the next day in exact replicas. Dubbed the Plump and Plushy Pandas, they'd insinuated that they'd love nothing more than to have sex with Rachel while she was wearing the panda suit. Rachel was fully terrified by these men. And Quinn found the whole thing beyond hilarious.

Giving Quinn a long, hateful stare, Rachel left the bedroom without another word. Quinn waited until Rachel slammed the front door before she burst into hysterical laughter. She didn't sober up completely until much later in the day when she received a text that both scared and thrilled her.

(3)

"You texted that we needed to have a conversation about Brittany. So…speak. What's the issue?"

Santana took a deep breath and promptly closed her mouth. Quinn hadn't heard from Santana or Brittany in almost a year. Santana's peculiar behavior set Quinn on edge. What if there was something wrong with Brittany? Quinn steadied her nerves and pinned her eyes on Santana. "Is Brittany all right?" Santana dropped her gaze and played with the napkin in her lap. Quinn grabbed Santana's hand, gripped it hard until the other girl winced. "You need to say something to me, Santana, or I'm leaving. What's the matter with Brittany?"

Santana jerked her hand away and rolled her eyes. "Nothing! Nothing! She's fine. I lied. This is about me, not Brittany."

Quinn stood up. Fuck this, she was tired of women manipulating her. She moved past Santana, who reached out and pulled her closer. "Please, Quinn, I need a favor. Grant me this one request and I'll owe you, I swear!"

And, really, how could Quinn resist a begging Santana Lopez? It was too rare an occurrence. And, possibly, too big of an opportunity. She sat back down and motioned for Santana to hurry up and get to the point.

Speaking quickly so as not to lose her nerve, Santana said, "I want you to help me get an audition for Glee."

Quinn raised an eyebrow at Santana. "Why don't you ask Rachel for a meeting with Ryan?"

Santana leaned forward. "I know that you don't speak to anyone in Lima, including your parents, apparently. And you live in this weird bubble where the only things that exist are Rachel and your dance studio…but there's a lot you don't know about Lima." Santana crossed her arms and sat back in her chair.

Quinn wasn't much interested in the happenings of Lima. But she suspected she was about to get all caught up. "Such as?"

"Me and Britt-Britt never knew Rachel, for starters."

Quinn stopped crunching on a cube of ice. She tilted her head questionably at Santana. "I'm not following you."

Santana laughed. "God, Rachel doesn't tell you anything, does she? And you don't care enough to know!"

Quinn was ready to admit that she was beyond confused and had moved to the realm of totally fucking clueless. All she could manage was a short shrug of her shoulders.

"FOX pretty much owns Lima. They've funneled a lot of money into the town. They're even thinking of putting up a Glee-themed amusement park right outside Lima."

Quinn couldn't stop her jaw from dropping. "That's insane!" Pausing to gather her thoughts, Quinn closed her eyes. Nothing was making sense. Maybe she was dreaming. "But…how does that have anything to do with you and Brittany supposedly not knowing Rachel?"

Santana suddenly seemed angry. "Ryan can't have word leak that his darling star was close friends with two lesbians while she was in high school! That would be too much…especially when added to the rumors about you and Rachel."

Quinn could only stare at Santana, mouth agape once more. "Wait! Wait! Then why in the fuck would you want a role on Glee? And wouldn't you have to pretend you aren't with Brittany?" Quinn popped a Vicodin into her mouth. Her head was throbbing mercilessly.

Santana's smug lit up her entire face. "Nope. I've read the spoilers and I want to audition for the role of Heather's love interest. I seriously doubt they'll have a problem with a lesbian playing the part of a lesbian. It'll make for excellent publicity."

Quinn scowled. It made her face hurt. "But why, Santana? Why Glee? You're almost finished with law school!"

"I'm sick of mucking around in law school when I can be famous! If Rachel Berry can do it, so the fuck can I!"

Quinn took a second Vicodin. Her fucking brain felt like it was melting. "People will find out that you know Rachel. Someone in Lima is bound to sell that information the first chance they get!"

Santana chuckled loudly. "Not likely! No one wants to jeopardize pissing off FOX. Even my parents are on their payroll! All people have to do is pretend that Rachel grew up in Lima the way that FOX says it happened. No need to let reality get in the way of a great story. And it's good money, Quinn. Nobody will risk losing out on it. Also, I wasn't born in Lima. According to FOX, I was born and raised right here in LA."

Quinn opened her mouth, found that words wouldn't come, closed it. Thought seriously about taking a Xanax. Wanted to fall down that magick rabbit hole that Dianna Agron liked to mention. Never wanted to emerge.

Santana tapped her on the arm. "Willing to help me or not? I'll do something nice for you…if you agree to this."

Quinn blinked at Santana. This was tempting. Very much so. She could ask that Santana facilitate a reconciliation between Quinn and Brittany. Instead…

"If you get the part…you have to help me persuade Rachel to sell her half of the studio to me."

"Done!" Santana grinned at Quinn.

They shook on it. Santana bought Quinn a celebratory drink. They toasted to the future, which was suddenly a lot brighter in Quinn's mind. Even if that meant Santana Lopez was once again in her life.

(4)

Her conversation with Santana had run long. And Quinn had almost been late. But she finally had everything set up in her office. She'd swiped her assistant's laptop for this occasion. And she was also employing the use of her own iPad and her work computer. Three wide-eyed Rachels squinted at her on each of the monitors. Quinn smiled, she couldn't help it. Rachel looked like a frightened Meerkat. Quinn patiently waited for Rachel to realize that she was supposed to be answering questions right about now.

Because Quinn's three temporary personas were ready for the barrage. Her first, which Quinn thought of as Very Intense and Devoted Fangirl, was probably going to prove the hardest for her to pull off. The second, the You're Fooling No One Fangirl, would be easy. She'd added the third on a whim – The I Really Want to Annoy You Fangirl.

She watched as Rachel picked up her phone. Why the fuck was she calling someone right now? Quinn's phone rang out.

Rachel's voice echoed to her from four directions. "Quinn! Hey Quinn, I don't think anyone can see me."

Quinn could barely control her giggles enough to respond. "I think you might want to reconsider that line of reasoning. I can see you…and I'm going to go out on a limb and assume I'm not alone."

Rachel squinted at the camera. "Oh! Okay, ha, ha!" She hung up the phone on Quinn and bent closer to her computer.

As soon as she'd ended the call, Quinn allowed You're Fooling No One Fangirl to send Rachel a message: The first thing you say on the chat is Quinn's name? And you call her for help? I bet she's probably downstairs right now. Isn't she?

Rachel's eyes scrolled furiously across her screen. A blush crept across her cheeks. "Let's see…say hello to Amy in Buffalo." Rachel grinned. "Hi, Amy in Buffalo, hope you're having a great day!"

Quinn typed as Very Intense and Devoted Fangirl for a while: I'm soooooooooooo sad that you're not with Quinn anymore. Alex is such a douche! You're breaking my Faberry heart!

The color of Rachel's cheeks grew an even darker shade of red. She narrowed her eyes. "Um…yeah! We really love New York. I used to live there and, you know, we just like it a lot."

Quinn let You're Fooling No One Fangirl take that one: And by WE…you mean you and QUINN FABRAY!

Quinn switched over to The I Really Want to Annoy You Fangirl mode: There's a picture of a cat behind you. Is that your way of letting us know how much you like pussy?

Rachel laughed a little and fidgeted in her seat. "Let's see…say hello to Brian in Brazil." Rachel waved. "Hi, Brian in Brazil. I hope to visit your country one day. We've talked about going to Brazil over the summer."

Exasperated, Quinn sent Rachel a text: Stop saying hello to everyone. You're not a game show contestant. Answer questions!

Rachel peered down at her phone and hurriedly back up to the computer. "Let's see…stop looking at yourself. Look at the camera when you speak. Ha, ha! I'm not looking at myself. A friend, my friend, is texting me and…uh… sort of coaching me through this. But not Quinn! Another friend! Finn, actually. He's Quinn's boyfriend." Rachel peeked up at the camera with a small pout. "I'm so bad with technology!"

Quinn balked. God, she hated even the mention of that boy's name. She turned her attention back to Rachel and forgot about Finn for a little while longer.

Rachel was trying her best to address the camera directly. "Let's see…uh…I apologize! These questions are just coming so fast!"

I Really Want to Annoy You Fangirl responded with a "that's what she said."

"Let's see…no, sorry, I've not seen that movie." Rachel shrugged apologetically.

Quinn gave up. Rachel was being too vague. What movie hadn't she seen? It was time for a break. Quinn left her office to raid her stash of pills in the storage closet. She'd already gone through the daily amount Rachel had given her that morning. Walking down the hallway, she stopped at the sight of Dianna Agron. Sitting in an empty classroom. Her knees bent up and arms cradling her laptop.

Dianna looked somewhere between listless and despondent. Quinn glanced at her watch. Dianna's class had ended over an hour ago. Why the hell was she still here? Quinn advanced toward Dianna. "Hey there, everything okay?"

Dianna had tears in her eyes. "She hasn't seen my movie."

Quinn frowned down at Dianna. "Who hasn't?"

Dianna acted as if Quinn hadn't just asked her a question. "I've watched every episode of Glee, like, 250 times."

Gears started turning for Quinn. Bits of the puzzle emerged clearer and more sharply inside her brain.

Dianna kept speaking, "I only promoted this stupid studio because Rachel is part-owner!" Dianna stood up and stalked toward Quinn. She raised her shirt and Quinn flinched. What the fuck was happening? Jesus save her! Dianna shrieked at her. "Look! I added a line to my tattoo when I heard Rachel sing Don't Rain on My Parade. That's how much it moved me!"

Quinn was powerless not to blatantly stare at Dianna's ribcage and the words Here I Am tattooed there. The clues swirled rapidly in her mind. The pieces seamlessly stitched together. The story added up.

Rachel was right all along. She really did have a stalker.