A/N: Things are getting busy around here! I'll most likely update in batches (several chapters at once, more time in between) for a little while until things settle down. As usual, comments, questions, and reviews are always welcome.

Chapter 5: Getting to Know You

Once Rachel had gotten over the initial shock of Quinn Fabray offering her a friendship, she dove head first into the "get to know you" process. The past few weeks had been blissful. Quinn apologized for tossing the first slushy (accidental or not, she was just glad for the apology) and guaranteed it wouldn't happen every again. So far, she'd held fast to her promise. Rachel had gone 23 days without having to shower and change her clothes due to a corn syrup mishap and it felt as though she was walking on air. After reading Quinn's initial entry into the notebook, Rachel had grown more comfortable with the idea of getting to know the girl and they began to explore each other in writing, occasionally through drawing in Quinn's case. They'd managed to avoid a lot of the major topics, Beth, Finn, Puck, and Shelby mainly, and focused on safer subjects such as Glee and school.

Rachel was elated to finally have someone to call a friend. Sure, she'd had acquaintances over the years, but nobody who really understood her; nobody who ever really wanted to. She looked across the busy gym to the bleachers under the basketball scoreboard where the blonde was busy writing in their notebook. She smiled to herself, watching the way Quinn mouthed the words she was writing very subtly, almost imperceptibly. She watched the way the girl's hair was falling out of her messy ponytail, not quite long enough to stay up in the tight style required by the Cheerio's dress code she no longer had to follow. She looked relaxed and carefree, like Rachel had never seen her before, and Rachel thought she was the most beautiful girl she'd ever seen. A basketball whizzed by her head, narrowly missing her nose, and Rachel snapped out of her tunnel vision to glare at the girls who had sent the ball sailing her way. Tina shyly jogged up and grabbed the ball from behind Rachel, apologizing softly before returning to the court. As the diva continued to stare off in the direction of the basketball court, she felt eyes on her and turned just in time to see Quinn look back down at the notebook. She watched the blonde again, half paying attention the basketball game so she didn't get hurt, taking in the perfection of the other girl's features until Santana stormed out from behind her, nearly knocking her down as she made her way to the bleachers and Quinn. She saw the blonde girl finish up her entry in the notebook with a smirk before turning her attention to the fuming Latina.

After lunch, she found the notebook in her locker with a post-it note. "Bet you'd like to know how I pulled this one off, huh Berry?" She grinned before grabbing her books and making her way to class. Once situated at her usual desk in history, she flipped to the latest entry in the notebook. Quinn seemed eager to get to know everything about her. Her note was long, longer than anything else she'd written in the notebook so far, and contained only questions.

Rach!

What do you do after school? I see you getting into your father's car every day after glee, but where do you go? What's your favorite color? I've noticed that most of your school clothes and stuff are in the pink/purple/pastel family, why is that? Are Mary Janes really comfortable, or do you wear them specifically to look demure and innocent? I know that French fries are vegan (or can be), but do you like them or eat them at all? I know you're pretty into healthy food, but who can resist fries, right? Can I text you sometime? My number is 419-749-3993, what's yours?

I see you across the gym staring off into space, what are you looking at? Do you play any sports?

I have to get going, Santana looks like she's about to go off about something and I really don't want to deal with her making a scene today. She can be such a bitch sometimes, you know?

I'm going to leave this in your locker today. You'll be surprised and a little freaked out that I got in there without you knowing and I'm already laughing a little to myself. Talk to you soon, little B.

Q

Quinn had quickly become obsessed with finding out all about the Rachel she had avoided for so long. She had so many questions, so many things she had to find out, and even though she had all the time in the world to discover everything about the girl, Quinn wanted to know everything right now. This urge translated into a playful banter between the two girls, Rachel constantly flustered by the steady stream of questions and Quinn coming up with new and strange things to ask.

Quinn sat at her favorite table in her favorite diner with a cup of sweet black coffee and her laptop in front of her. She plugged in her headphones and turned on her "Shakespeare's Work Mix" on Pandora before pulling out her books and pencils and starting to organize her study materials.

Shakespeare's Diner had been her refuge when she was pregnant and needed to get out of Puck's basement. They had great diner coffee (decaf, of course, when she was pregnant) and the best fries in town. The small restaurant was situated on the bottom level of an old factory building. The walls were covered with pages of various plays that had been torn out of their books and plastered over one another to create wallpaper. The one wall that differed was exposed brick and separated the dining area from the kitchen. The booths were made of deep red vinyl and offset with black and white tables. The ceilings, at a towering 12 feet, were lofty and bare. Colorful glass pendant lights hung low over each table, no two were the same, and bright white light shot up the walls from sconces that were evenly spaced along the length of the space. It was still under the radar – the blonde literally stumbled upon it the day she'd been kicked out of her home – and it quickly turned into a safe haven. Juliet, the older woman who owned the place, had taken it upon herself to look after the sullen looking girl after she'd seen her doing homework with her books sprawled out over the tables every day for two weeks. After Quinn had a panic attack looking for a wireless signal one day while working on a research paper, Juliet installed a wireless router for the diner patrons. Even now that she'd moved back in with her mother, Quinn still felt more comfortable in her worn out booth in the corner than in her own house. She'd just gotten settled in for a long night of pre-calculus when her phone vibrated in her pocket.

She looked down at the screen and saw a message from an unknown number.

Quinn! This is my number, since I haven't had the opportunity to give the notebook back to you yet. I'll be sure to get it back to you as soon as possible. You did ask a lot of questions…

Quinn chuckled to herself, knowing full well who had just texted her. She saved the number in her phone before replying.

QF: Hey there you! I wasn't expecting to hear from you so soon. What are you up to?

RB: I'm just working on some pre-cal. We did receive a ridiculous amount of work this afternoon, you know? Are you working on it as well?

QF: I just started actually. It seems that we're in for a long night. Are you ready to answer some of my questions?

RB: Well, I can't very well sit here on my phone the entire time I'm trying to do my homework. It takes too long to type out long messages. Do you have a computer? We can Facebook chat? Wait, are we Facebook friends?

Quinn took a deep breath, knowing she'd let Santana decline Rachel's friend requests on multiple occasions. She was embarrassed once again about her treatment of the girl and promised herself once again that she would make it right.

QF: I'm on my laptop right now. Sign on to Facebook and I'll send you a friend request.

Rachel logged onto her Facebook, idly wondering if she'd friend requested Quinn before. She was almost certain she had, but knowing their previous relationship, it wasn't surprising that Quinn would have declined it. She opened her profile and turned away from her laptop. She had her study materials sprawled out over the kitchen table, finding that her desk was too small for her growing amount of homework. She stepped away from the table into the kitchen to grab herself a glass of water. Her phone chimed twice in her pocket and she looked down at the screen, knitting her brow in confusion when she saw that it was from Quinn.

QF: Did you get the request? I sent it just now

QF: Are you still there?

Rachel laughed at the desperation of the message. When had Quinn Fabray turned into such a nervous wreck? She was relieved to see that Quinn really was trying to make things right, and amused that she seemed to fear rejection just as much as Rachel did. Putting her phone back in her pocket, the brunette made her way back to the kitchen table. She sat down at her laptop and approved the friend request from Quinn. Almost instantaneously a chat box popped up in the bottom of her screen.

Quinn Fabray: Hey. I wasn't sure if you'd gotten my request or not.

Rachel Berry: I did. I went to the kitchen to get a drink while I was waiting for you to send it. I was only gone for a minute!

Quinn Fabray: Oh, sorry. I guess I freaked out a little bit. I hope you don't think I'm a weirdo or anything, I just want to talk to you. :/

Rachel Berry: Aww, thanks. I think you're a super weirdo, but that was sweet.

Quinn Fabray: Thanks Berry, that was nice of you. Now answer my damn questions!

Rachel Berry: So impatient. I hope you know that is very unbecoming of a lady. You should work on that.

Quinn Fabray: I'll have you know that I'm very patient Berry, more than you know. Besides, I'm not worried about coming off as a "lady". I mean, I did get pregnant and have a baby my boyfriend's best friend. All I'm worried about is no longer coming off as a tramp.

Rachel Berry: You're not a tramp, Quinn. I never thought you were.

Quinn smiled to herself, but didn't reply.

Rachel Berry: Now, about these questions.

Rachel Berry: Most days after school my daddy picks me up and we go to the grocery store and pick out what we're going to cook for dinner. My daddy is a third grade teacher at the elementary school so he gets out just a short while before we do. Picking me up is on his way home and shopping for dinner had become something of a tradition for us.

Rachel Berry: Contrary to many of my clothing choices- which I will fill you in on in just a moment- my favorite colors are in the red/orange/yellow family. I like bold colors, but have found that I don't particularly like to wear them because they draw unnecessary attention.

Quinn smiled again, letting out a low chuckle at the idea that Rachel Berry would ever find attention unnecessary. She thought about what that could mean for a moment before realizing that Rachel's wardrobe choices were probably to keep her from attracting too much attention from the people who bullied her at school. Bullies like her. Quinn bit her lip and prepared for words that would confirm her fears while she watched the chat bar in the bottom of the screen "Rachel Berry is typing…"

Rachel Berry: To be honest, when I first began dressing the way I do it was simply because I'd yet to grow out of the phase where I found animal sweaters and plaid skirts appealing. I still find them to be comfortable, but most days I'd much prefer to wear a nice sun dress or even jeans with a simple top. When the slushying began I couldn't bear the thought of my nice clothes being ruined on a daily basis, so I never bothered wearing them to school. You should notice, however, that since I haven't been slushied in a few weeks I've begun to branch out in my clothing selections. For instance, I wore a lovely red dress yesterday and today I used my favorite headband without fear of it being permanently damaged by food dyes. I think progress is being made, don't you?

Quinn's heart was pounding out of anger and resentment for herself. She never stopped to consider how deeply her actions had affected the smaller girl. Sure, she'd seen her running off toward the bathroom in tears covered in corn syrup on countless occasions, but the idea that her clothing choices were a direct result of her torment had never truly occurred to her. She wondered what other things Rachel was holding back, how else had her life changed because of the relentless teasing by her peers.

Quinn Fabray: Rachel, I'm so sorry you ever had to go through any of that. I know most of it is my fault, and I know I can't ever take it all back, but I want you to know that I'll never stop trying to make it up to you. You're amazing. You're probably the most amazing person I've ever met and I'm so sorry for ever making you doubt that

Rachel Berry: Quinn, at some point you're going to have to stop apologizing for the past. You've apologized and I've accepted. I forgive you. As long as it never happens again, we'll be ok.

Quinn Fabray: Never again, I swear it.

Rachel Berry: Good. Now, to continue with the questions (which you will be answering as soon as I'm finished).

Rachel Berry: I am a very big fan of French fries. They are perhaps the only food I am willing to bend my strictly vegan diet for.

Quinn Fabray: *gasp*

Rachel Berry: Quit it. Let me explain. For French fries to be truly vegan, they must be prepared using non-animal product based cooking oil. Most venues use vegetable or peanut oil anyhow. The issue I find is that most restaurants also cook meat or cheese items in the same fryer, i.e. chicken fingers, mozzarella sticks, jalapeno poppers, etc. While I cannot approve of the consumption of these products, I am willing to overlook the fact that my fries may have come in contact with them if they are good enough that I cannot bring myself to care. This is my guilty pleasure and it cannot be denied.

Quinn burst out laughing, causing Juliet to look her way with a confused yet happy smile. The old woman had noticed a change in the girl in the past few weeks. She seemed more relaxed, more free. Several patrols had turned to the girl at her outburst. Quinn muttered an apology to the burly man glaring at her from a nearby table before returning to her laptop.

Quinn Fabray: LOL! That is amazing. I've never heard such a declaration over French fries before! I may have to print that out and tape it in the notebook so I have a record of your vegan non-compliance to rub in your face whenever I feel like it. You are adorable.

Damnit! I didn't mean to type that. Quinn mentally slapped herself for carelessly complimenting the girl. She thought it was too early in their friendship for sentiments like that, especially since she'd spent so long tearing down the other girl for her appearance. God, I should have been saying this all along. She's so beautiful. And adorable. And so cute in her tiny skirts. Maybe cute isn't the right word for that. Hot… sexy, perhaps? Whoa. Where did that come from?

Rachel stared at the blinking curser for a moment, torn over what to respond to the unexpected compliment. Quinn called her adorable. Is this what friends did? They flatter each other with idle praise? She didn't know. She'd never been close enough with anyone for that type of conversation. Was she supposed to say thank you? To compliment Quinn in return? What if Quinn really meant it? Was she flirting? Oh god, no, Quinn would never flirt with her. Quinn is a straight, very straight, pregnant at 16 straight, girl. Get a grip, Berry. She heard Quinn's voice in her head. Rachel took a deep breath, realizing how close to the edge of a panic attack she was getting. Relax, Rachel, deep breaths. She was just being nice. Maybe there is protocol for this type of interaction between friends. You think she's adorable, and smart, and beautiful, and everything the perfect girl ever could and should be. There is nothing wrong with saying so, it's not like she's going to know you mean it as more than just an idle compliment. Rachel smiled and let out a sigh of relief before turning back to her keyboard.

Rachel Berry: You're pretty adorable yourself, Quinn Fabray.

Quinn bit her lip to hold in her giddy squeal. Rachel thinks I'm adorable! The phrase repeated like a mantra in her head. She was so caught up in her happiness she didn't notice Juliet approaching from the counter.

"Quinn, you want some more coffee?"

"Quinn. Earth to Quinn."

"QUINN!" Juliet nearly screamed before tapping the blonde lightly on the shoulder. Quinn jumped, startled by the woman's presence and knocking her textbooks off the table to land with a resounding thud on the concrete floor.

"Ohmygod! Juliet. What the hell?"

"I called your name three times, honey. More coffee?" Quinn nodded lightly and Juliet tipped the coffee pot over the girl's cup. "You about ready for supper yet?" Quinn nodded again before realizing that the older woman had begun to walk away. The burly man nearby got up from his seat to leave and the screeching of his chair snapped Quinn out of her daze.

"Thanks Jules!" she called out across the diner, earning a warm smile from the woman as she slid the ticket through the window to the kitchen.

Turning her attention back to her computer screen, Quinn realized that Rachel had answered the remaining questions when she had spaced out.

Rachel Berry: Well, you already have my phone number, obviously, so there is no longer a need to give that to you.

Rachel Berry: I believe the moment you are referring to in the gym was when I was almost hit in the face with a basketball this afternoon. The ball flew by my nose so closely I could smell the leather and I turned to glare at the reckless students who sent it flying in my direction. I felt someone looking at me in that moment as well, perhaps it was you.

Rachel Berry: I am not a big fan of contact sports. I do, however, enjoy swimming, sailing, and several other water sports.

Rachel Berry: As for your final question, yes, I agree that Santana Lopez can be a complete bitch sometimes.

Quinn Fabray: Rachel Berry! Did you really just call Santana a bitch? Hang on, let me call her and let her know.

Rachel Berry: DON'T YOU DARE, FABRAY!

Quinn Fabray: I would never. Besides, she already knows, so what's the point?

Rachel Berry: Haha, I'm sure she does. Ok, Quinn, now you get to answer.

Quinn Fabray: Alright, no problem. After school I usually head to the diner to do my homework and hang out. I don't get a ride anywhere because my mom bought me a car when I moved back in. It was a gift to assuage her guilt, but it works out for both of us, so I never contested it. I'm there until my mom gets out of work at 11. She's working as a concierge at the Marriot downtown. It's perfect for her because she gets to play the perfect host all day long. She actually has a law degree, but after she met my dad, she never bothered to take the BAR exam. Lame, I know.

Quinn Fabray: My favorite colors are blue and grey. I'm drawn to cooler colors because they relax me. I think dark charcoal may be my favorite, but it is subject to change day to day.

Quinn Fabray: French fries are probably my favorite food. The diner makes the best I've ever tasted. You'll have to join me one day.

Quinn Fabray: As for sports, you already know that I was a Cheerio, obviously. I did that mainly because I'm really good at it. I do love not being a Cheerio right now, it's a lot of added stress and taking a break has been very good for my mental health. I'm sure next year I'll have to go back though, because with things the way they are now, I'll need to get a scholarship to get out of this town for college. Other than that, I'm a big baseball fan. I played little league baseball until I was 12 and my dad told me that baseball was for boys once I started middle school. I never really liked softball and my dad wouldn't have let me play anyway, he thinks softball is for lesbians. My dad is a dick, in case you were wondering.

While Quinn awaited Rachel's response to her answers, Juliet appeared at Quinn's table with her usual order. In front of her were a bacon cheeseburger, medium, extra grilled onions, no pickles; a double order of fries, and a glass of sweet tea. Juliet smirked down at Quinn as she watched the blonde burn her mouth on a scalding hot French fry, "I still have no idea where you put all this food, but if you keep smiling like you have been all night, I'll keep re-filling the fry basket".

Rachel Berry: I see. Wow, that was a lot of information very quickly. I'll need you to tell me more about this diner; it sounds very interesting and must be a great place if you spend so much of your time there. I've never seen you wearing subdued colors such as blue and grey, but I think they suit you. Again, we'll have to explore that further. I believe that if you don't like cheerleading, you should consider other options for scholarships. There is no point dragging yourself through Cheerios training if you don't need to. I'll help you in any way you need. Moving on from the fact that your father is a "penis", I'm assuming you're not a lesbian because you don't play softball? J/K.

Quinn choked on a French fry, grasping for her tea and chugging it to clear her airway. She stared at the screen for a moment before shrugging and saying "what the hell" to herself.

Quinn Fabray: Assume and make an ass out of you and me, Berry.

She smirked to herself as she imagined Rachel's reaction to her (joking) confession before continuing.

Quinn Fabray: I'm having the best fries in town as we speak. Care to join me?