A/N: Hello! So this is chapter is a bit longer. I'm sick of thinking up not-so-clever titles for the chapters. I'm leaving for those theatre conventions in a couple of days and won't be able to update for awhile. Probably. But I will keep writing! Hope you enjoy!
Quinn awoke to the smell of bacon. She thought for sure she was dreaming. She rolled over and looked at the illuminated red numbers of the alarm clock on her bedside table: 9am. She ran her hands over her face and through her hair sleepily, stretched, and sniffed again. Yep, definitely bacon.
She rolled over and grabbed her phone, flipping it open to find a text from Rachel.
What time do I need to be there today?
Quinn rolled her eyes but texted back: 11. She had politely ignored Rachel's badly suppressed enthusiasm the first time Quinn suggested Rachel text her regarding show questions, and since then the brunette had thought of at least three questions a day. Quinn had the sneaking suspicion that Rachel rarely received or sent text messages and thus was excited to have someone to correspond with. If Quinn was going to be honest, she hadn't had anyone to text as of late, either.
Quinn lay back in bed again, trying to put off the moment that her feet would touch the carpet and begin her day. Quinn felt fairly certain that Rachel was getting more and more comfortable with her. It had been three days since she had apologized to her and Quinn felt lucky to find that Rachel wasn't one to hold a grudge. Instead, she seemed eager to put their pasts behind them. She sought Quinn out during breaks and after rehearsal, and of course there was the texting of questions she already knew the answers to. Quinn wondered how long it would take her to be able to work Shelby into the conversation. She calculated that it wouldn't take more than another couple of days, but the real issue was how to ask to be put in touch with her without seeming obvious. The blonde tapped her forefinger against her lips in thought, but was too distracted by the smell of the bacon.
Giving in to curiosity, she stood, stretched one more time, and put her phone in the pocket of her pajama pants as she padded down the stairs. Rounding the corner into the kitchen, she stopped in her tracks.
Judy was standing at the stove cooking breakfast. The bacon that had enticed Quinn out of her bed was frying in a pan while the older woman shuffled some eggs around in a second pan with a spatula. Quinn noticed that her mother's usual bathrobe and slippers had been laundered for the first time in a very long while, and her blonde hair was combed.
This was the icing on the cake for the younger Fabray. Her mother had been gradually acting more and more normal all week. First loading the dishwasher, then doing a load of laundry and taking out the trash, and now this. The two of them hadn't spoken much since Judy's drunken outburst; in fact Quinn had been avoiding her like crazy. She cautiously stepped into the room as if it held a wild animal of some sort.
"Mom?"
Judy turned around, "Oh, Quinn, you're awake. Good morning!" She slid eggs and bacon onto a plate and placed it in front of her daughter on the island. Quinn took a seat and began to eat. It was the first time her mother had cooked in months.
"Thanks, Mom." Quinn shoveled the food in her mouth, thinking she had never tasted anything quite as delicious.
"Quinn, dear, would you like to go to service with me tomorrow?" Judy's smile was wide, if a little tight. Quinn's heart sank slightly.
"Oh, um, I have reh-I have plans already." Quinn wasn't sure why she didn't want to talk about the play, but she felt like explaining it would have been giving away some grand secret. Judy's face fell a little, but she recovered.
"Alright, dear, maybe next Sunday. Or we can go some time during the week."
"Sure, Mom," Quinn said, then stuffed her mouth with more eggs, hoping to discourage any more questions.
While she drove to rehearsal, Quinn couldn't help but smile at the feeling that her mother might be going back to normal. She swept the somewhat troubling invitation to church to the back of her mind and focused on the breakfast, on the clean clothes and counter tops. As she arrived at rehearsal and strode into the theatre, she couldn't help but think that her quest to find Beth was the right thing to do. Judy had been a mess three days ago, but had clearly pulled herself together for her daughter's sake. Girls needed their mothers, their real mothers, in their lives.
As she entered the theatre, she saw Rachel and Jason standing together. Rachel seemed to be urgently questioning him, and he looked reassuring. Quinn was distracted, though, because Rachel was wearing jeans and a red and white baseball-type shirt that barely covered her midriff. Quinn had never seen the shorter girl in anything other than the "librarian chic" fashion to which she so faithfully subscribed. Well, and, of course, costumes for the glee club. She had to admit that in regular clothing, and in an environment that she clearly felt comfortable in, Rachel looked, well, nice. Quinn refused to let her brain go any further than that four letter word.
Rachel and Jason both stopped talking when they saw her, but Quinn pretended not to notice and waved to them. She glanced at her phone, noting that it was, indeed, 10:30, the time that she and Jason had agreed upon the day before to get things set up before everyone else arrived.
"You're here early," she offered at Rachel in greeting. The brunette smiled.
"I had hoped that Rod would be here so that I could discuss the possibility of transferring that 'Stars and the Moon' solo to my own part, but I see he hasn't shown up yet." Quinn looked around and noticed that the only other person in the room was Allan, who was arranging piles of 2x4 onstage.
"I guess not."Quinn said, setting her bag down.
As it turned out, Allan had a pretty good handle on the set-up for the day, so the three of them sat in the house while they waited for the cast to arrive.
"You look nice today, Quinn," Rachel said, turning slightly in her seat.
"Rachel, I'm wearing sweats."Quinn said with a raised eyebrow, slightly taken aback by the comment.
"Ah, yes, well," Rachel stuttered, and Quinn could see Jason eyeing her incredulously, "What I meant was…you look…relaxed."
Quinn watched as Jason rolled his eyes, smirked, and turned his head in the opposite direction.
"Well, so do you." Quinn answered, feeling awkward. Rachel cleared her throat quietly and looked extremely relieved when the tension was broken by the arrival of Rod, the other three actors, and a large group of burly men who were friends of Allan's.
They got to work immediately. Quinn was introduced to Sonya, a tiny, ancient Russian woman with a fierce personality who immediately seemed to size Quinn up as worthy. Quinn helped her with costume fittings all morning, watching her bony fingers measure what seemed like every mentionable body part on each of the actors. Rachel was last, and as they finished up Jason summoned them back to the theatre to help with the set.
Most of the actors had been sent to help Sonya pull already assembled costumes or find props amongst the great piles and boxes in the halls. Quinn was surprised that Jason hadn't sent Rachel off to do one of these less manual tasks, until she saw Rachel step right up to one of Allan's muscular friends and greet him like an old friend. Jason must have seen Quinn's dubious look because he chuckled and cocked his head at the comical combination of tiny girl and huge construction worker.
"Rachel has done a lot of shows here; in fact, I've known her almost as long as I've known you and your family. We both basically grew up helping on set work days, and Allan has taught us a lot."
Quinn nodded, watching as one of the men handed Rachel a piece of paper and gestured to the lumber and power tools onstage. As Rachel nodded and examined the plans, Jason clapped Quinn on the shoulder and said, "Ask her to show you how you can help."
Quinn glared at him, but as always he just walked away with the usual spring in his step. Quinn sighed, putting her pride on the shelf yet again as she approached Rachel.
"Jason told me to help you." she said. She couldn't help but return the brunette's wide grin with a small smile. God, do I actually like Berry?
"Wonderful! We are building the platform in this drafting." Rachel showed her the paper, which was printed with a computer generated plan for a large rectangular platform. It looked pretty simple, but Quinn wouldn't know where to start to realize it in the materials before them. Rachel, however, was a very patient teacher. In fact, Quinn had to admit, the other girl was far more patient that she herself would have been. Rachel showed her the circular saw, which was attached to a workbench on wheels.
"This is really called a chop saw most of the time," Rachel explained, using a tape measure to mark the correct length on a 2x4.
"Now, you're going to cut it to that length." she said, stepping back.
"Whoa, what, me? I've never done this before." Quinn said, putting her hands up and taking a step back. Rachel laughed and put a pair of safety goggles on herself, then stepped forward and placed a pair on Quinn's face. The action brought them within inches of each other, and Quinn could feel Rachel's breath tickling her skin as she leaned forward and husked, "What, Fabray, are you scared?"
Quinn stared into the dark brown eyes in front of her. Was Rachel Berry flirting with her? She broke eye contact and stepped around the brunette, situating herself at the saw. Rachel stepped slightly to one side of her.
"You want to position the blade so that it will cut a little bit into the scrap side of the wood. If you cut right on the line I drew, your two-by will be too short by one half the width of the blade of the saw, which is about 1/16". The width of the blade that gets turned into sawdust is called the kerf, and you have to allow for it." She placed her tiny hands over Quinn's and moved the lumber into position; lingering a little longer than what was necessary. Quinn blinked, but before she had time to get upset, Rachel had moved away to steady one end of the "two-by."
Quinn pulled the trigger and brought the moving blade down slowly, like Rachel had taught her. The end result was a clean cut that Quinn was bashfully quite proud of. Over the course of the afternoon, Rachel taught Quinn how to construct the rest of the platform. Quinn wouldn't have even admitted it to herself, but Rachel's construction knowledge was actually kind of hot. By the time their dinner break came around, they had constructed two platforms and were both sweaty and covered in sawdust. Most of the cast and crew went out, but Quinn and Rachel decided to order sandwiches to be delivered, and ate them sitting in the rehearsal room.
"Oh my God, Gregory," Rachel said, referring to the older gentleman actor, "He added me on Facebook and once posted a status about some very inappropriate happenings with a lady friend. He thought he was sending a message!"
Quinn looked disgusted, then laughed loudly. She was sitting on the floor, her back resting against the old chaise lounge that Rachel had sprawled across dramatically. Quinn hated to admit it, but she was actually having a good time. In her own environment, Rachel's obnoxious personality became endearingly quirky.
"Ugh, I hate going on Facebook now. Santana and Brittany are at Cheerio's camp and keep posting pictures of their amazing abs, whereas I look more and more like the freaking Goodyear blimp." Quinn laughed lightly, stopping abruptly when Rachel's hand came to rest gently on her shoulder.
"Quinn, don't say that. You are so beautiful."
Quinn blushed madly, unable to arrange her feelings. Rachel clearly had no problem expressing her thoughts and emotions to other people, whereas Quinn could hardly sort hers out for herself.
That night she lay in bed, replaying every questionable comment and action of the brunette's.
She must be trying to make friends with me, Quinn thought. She probably doesn't realize how awkward she's being because no one ever wants to talk to her.
She felt a tiny stab of guilt, thinking of the part she had had in promoting Rachel's sorry social state. Still, most people knew when they were flirting.
Is she doing it on purpose? Why? Quinn thought wildly, what could she possibly have to gain from that?
Quinn thought of how closed off to romance she had been since Beth, then mentally shook herself at the thought of her daughter.
She's the reason I'm doing this, she thought. Not to be friends with Berry. I have to figure out how she can help me get to Beth.