Rachel's eyes widened slightly, and she even opened her mouth to speak before she realized that she could think of nothing to say. Quinn wiped her cheek and laughed slightly. "Rachel Berry, speechless. Never thought I'd see that day."
Rachel didn't let that cheek swipe go unnoticed. Was that a tear she wiped off her cheek? Was Quinn Fabray really crying?
"Look, RuPa-….Berry. I know I don't necessarily like you. And I'm not quite sure that you necessarily like me. But I think…" Quinn trails off and sighs. She feels stupid for being emotional over something as moronic as this. She's not even sure what the emotion is about. She thinks her and Berry will kick ass at regionals, why is she so upset by Berry not wanting to sing with her? It doesn't make sense.
"What, Quinn? You think that we'll make a great team? You think that we'll be able to throw our differences aside and have a grand time working together?" Rachel asks sarcastically, her anger from this morning back with a vengeance.
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Mr. Schuester, his ear plastered to the door, hears Rachels voice rise and his forehead begins to wrinkle with worry. He turns to the rest of the Glee club, who still have no idea what is going on.
Finn speaks quietly. "Mr. Schue? Um…what's going down here, exactly?"
Brittany speaks as though woken from a dream. "Aren't we supposed to be having Glee practice?"
Santana sighs and leads Brittany away from the group, the two settling to quietly talk in a corner.
"This morning I asked Rachel if she'd sing a female duet at Regionals with Quinn." Mr. Schuester speaks in a whisper, and braces himself.
The group erupts in noise. Mercedes, Kurt, Tina, and Artie all begin laughing loudly, the rest of the guys look like they've been slapped, and Santana stares at Mr. Schuester like he's stupid.
"Yes. Thank you." Mr. Schuester throws his hands in the air before they settle on his hips. "I'm just hoping that they can work together. We've got a shot at Regionals, guys. We really do. I just hope that Rachel doesn't forget that."
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"Quinn, I think that the notion of me forgetting everything you've ever done to me and working with you on a professional level is insulting to my craft. I take my singing very seriously, and I understand that you have grown ever so slightly since you joined Glee club, but not enough for me to allow myself that strain. I'm sorry, Quinn. But it is still no." Rachel turns towards the door, barely missing nearly the entire Glee club ducking under the small window.
"Berry, wait." Quinn stares at Rachel for a moment, and Rachel starts to wonder if she's ever going to speak. "Berry…I'm a bitch."
Rachel gasps slightly at the sudden use of foul language, and her hand flies to her mouth. Quinn rolls her eyes and continues.
"That's just who I am. But you're good. And I'm…you know, actually okay at this. We have a shot at regionals. And I can't let that get thrown away just because I'm who I am. I can..." Quinn pauses, grimacing slightly "try to be nice. I'm not asking you to forget or whatever. I just think we should try. For Glee."
Rachel looks down at her shoes, and adjusts her sweater. She looks over to the piano and stares at it, thinking about where Glee was at the beginning. Five students who were pretty awful. And now they had a real shot at Regionals. She sighs loudly.
"Fine. We'll need to go over the possibilities for our song selections. Could you come to my home tomorrow, preferably sometime in the early afternoon?"
Quinn's eyebrows shoot up. "Berry, tomorrow is a Saturday."
It's now Rachel's turn to roll her eyes. "Quinn, if we're going to work together, I ask that you put in some extra effort." She tries to hold back a slight smirk, but fails. "For Glee."
Quinn smiles and lets out a large, overly dramatic sigh. "Well, if I must give up my Saturday. I suppose there are worse things that could happen."
Rachel nods curtly. She can hardly believe that she just had a somewhat civil conversation with Quinn Fabray. "Right."
She turns to the door and shouts "You can come in now, Mr. Schue."
Quinn looks at her, confused, but Rachel is not surprised when Mr. Schuester and the rest of the Glee club file guiltily into the room. Rachel turns to Quinn one last time before preparing herself for practice. "You know, it's not true." When Quinn looks confused, she elaborates.
"That's not who you really are. A bitch, I mean." She whispers the last few words. Quinn laughs.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Berry."
And for some reason, Quinn finds herself smiling.
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The lips drag down her skin so slowly that she wants to shout. She can't handle the teasing anymore. "Just touch me, please!" She means for the words to sound angry, but they sound much more like a whiney plea.
Quinn attempts to push her hips upward, but hands push them down. She tries to growl but is aware that it sounds more like a whimper. She stops breathing when she feels warm breath on her thighs. The hands push her legs apart gently, and when she feels a soft tongue on her clit she moans loudly.
"God, Rachel…"
Quinn jerks awake. She's breathing deeply, and has a light sheen of sweat covering her body. "What. The. Hell."
She throws her blankets to the side and sits up, letting her feet touch the cooler floor to try and ground herself. She glances over to the clock. "Six AM? What the HELL"
She lays back in bed, and tries to ignore the fact that her entire body is remembering that dream very vividly. She's never going to get back to sleep. She gets up and walks to the bathroom, hopefully a shower will clear her head.
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Her lips drag slowly down the trembling body. She is vaguely aware of something being said, but ignores the words and continues downward. When hips push up towards her, she forces them down and softly kisses the toned thighs beneath her.
She pushes the legs apart and drags her tongue across the clit she's been denying for so long. When she hears a loud moan, she smiles. "God, Rachel…"
She looks up at the sweat drenched face. "You're so beautiful, Quinn."
Rachel opens her eyes and sighs. She looks over at the clock. Six AM. That's too bad, she was looking forward to sleeping in today. She starts to get onto her elliptical, then suddenly stops. She pulls out her dream journal, jots down the date and time, and writes only three words.
"It happened again."
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Well there you go!
First sexy scenes I've writted in a long while, let me know what you thought!