A/N: Yikes, a bit of a while since an update. Combo writer's block and school work, but I found some time to update today. Very likely at least one more update this weekend. Plot notes are scribbled all over my house right now. :) Fun extra, Quinn's plans are linked my profile. Cheers, lads.
Most of Quinn's Monday night was spent revising her told herself that it was because she wanted a good grade and that it was not directly related to impressing Rachel. Her Tuesday night was another detailed round of planning.
Essay? Check. Perfect outfit? Check. Reserve of small talk and compliments? Well... .
Staring down at her master plan, she thoughtfully tapped a pencil against her lower lip. She had started two lists, one in each margin. A list of topics to bring up to keep the conversation flowing and the other list, features she could praise. The list of compliments was easily double the list of things Quinn could think of to talk about with the other girl.
She never really talks about her hobbies. She's always talking about performances—at least, until somebody shuts her down.
With knitted brows, she added "awards" to the first list. She would keep the conversation going even if it meant listening to the tale behind every trophy the diva had ever won. Another twenty minutes of attempted brainstorming left her with a few more details and the beginnings of a tiara doodled at the bottom of the page. Her sleep that night was fitful, and when she did sleep, she dreamt of Rachel Berry.
Quinn felt confident as she strode toward the entrance to the coffee shop.
Exactly five minutes early, just like I wanted. That gives me time to review my list before-
She came to a halt two paces inside the door. Rachel was smiling shyly and waving from a small table toward the back of the shop.
Already here? How early did that little freak show up?
Recovering quickly, she put on her best show face and headed over.
"Good evening, Quinn."
"You're early."
Rachel's fingers toyed with the paper sleeve covering her cup, "Whenever possible, I try to be at least ten, if not fifteen, minutes early to any appointment."
Quinn had started to bite the inside of her cheek and forced herself to relax her face before asking, "So how long have you been here?"
The seated girl's face flushed slightly, "Approximately seventeen minutes."
"Uh huh," Quinn set her notebook down and dug around in her bag, extracting her billfold. "And you already got your drink. I was supposed to do that."
"Oh, that wasn't necessary at all. You don't have to bribe me, I'm always happy to help a fellow Glee-clubber."
"I wanted to, Rachel." The other girl shrugged her shoulders in a conciliatory fashion. "Well, I'm gonna go get my coffee. Is there anything else you might let me get you?"
Rachel cocked her head and let out an exaggerated, "Wel-l-l-l." Okay, that was pretty cute. I mean, for her. "Now that you mention it, I think I saw vegan Nanaimo bars... ."
"Done. I'll be right back."
After giving the barista her order, Quinn leaned against the counter and idly rearranged the magnetic poetry haphazardly strewn along the metal display beside the register.
So much for being early. I guess I should have anticipated she would do be obscenely punctual. Keep it in mind for next time—need to write it down on the master list. The list I left in the notebook back on the table, damn it.
She peered quickly over her shoulder and saw Rachel hadn't touched the notebook, opting instead to continue shredding her cup sleeve.
Good. Her attention went back to the cluster of verbs and nouns on display. I wish she would have waited for me to get her drink. It's just.. more date-like. The dessert will have to do.
"Caramel macchiato for … Quinn?" a different barista pushed the cup across the counter toward her. "And you had a brownie?"
"A Nanaimo bar, please. Uh, one of the vegan ones."
"Right, right," a moment later she was walking back to Rachel with a cup in one hand and a small plate in the other, billfold tucked underneath. A new phrase on the poetry board now read, "we | could | discover | love".
"Here you go," she set the plate in front of the tiny quarterback, who clapped and grinned as Quinn took her seat.
"Thank you! It looks fantastic."
Quinn smiled into her cup as she took a sip, immediately regretting it. Ack! Too hot. The hiss that escaped her lips drew the other girl's attention.
"Burn yourself?" A sheepish nod. Rachel gave her her best sympathetic look, "You should always wait at least-"
"I know, I know. I just forgot."
Rachel reached across the table and took the cup from her, causing their fingers to touch for a moment. The brief contact sent a small tingle along the back of Quinn's hand, but before she could register it, the other girl was talking again.
"If you take the lid off and stir for a while, it will cool down faster. Like so," she popped off the lid and twirled the stir straw back and forth. "While the lid is on, the heat from the surface of the liquid simply circulates and the beverage retains its temperature longer. Freeing the heat and introducing a small current of movement helps it dissipate." Rachel glanced up into amused eyes and gave a soft smile. "It's something my dad told me when I was little."
"Oh yeah?"
Still stirring, she let her gaze wander, "Yes. I didn't have a lot of patience when I was younger. Whenever I had hot chocolate, I would inevitably scald my tongue and worry that nothing would ever taste right again."
Quinn gave a small chuckle and raised an eyebrow, "I'm supposed to believe you're more patient now?"
Rachel gaped at her, about to protest, when she held up a hand, "Kidding."
Her smile reemerged as she pushed the cup back toward the blonde, "Now I think maybe you deserved to burn your tongue."
Quinn accepted the cup and took over stirring. There was a pause, not exactly awkward. Heavy. It feels heavy. Both girls attempted to break the feeling at the same time.
"We should start-"
"I need to-"
Quinn waved her hand, "You go."
The other girl shook her head, "You first."
"I was just going to say we should start on the paper."
"Yes, we should start. I'm actually going to run to the ladies' room and then I'll be ready to concentrate on editing."
"Sure, okay." Should I say something else? Ah, no. She's getting up.
"One minute," Rachel stood, "Well, perhaps two minutes. Three at most."
"Go, Rachel."
Rachel nodded and walked away. When she was out of sight, Quinn leaned forward and grabbed the other drink. Pulling a pen from the spiral binding and then snapping the notebook open to her master plan, she rotated the mostly empty cup in her hand.
Where, where... . Ah, here. She nudged the sleeve down some. "Soy ChL" Hmm... . Quinn inhaled discretely at the lid opening. Ah ha. Soy, chai latte. I've got your number. She wrote the drink order down in her notes and put a box around it before quickly replacing the cup and flipping to the first pocket divider in the notebook. She produced a copy of her essay from the inset and placed it in front of Rachel's seat. I can't believe I'm actually nervous. I mean, it's a good paper. What if she really is a good writer? A better writer than I am?
Before she could get too wrapped up in her own thoughts, Rachel returned. The other girl nodded as she sat down and reached under the table, pulling out a canary yellow attache case that had gone unnoticed until now. The case even has her initials embroidered on it. Where do you get something like that? With a purely business face, she began to methodically extract items. Quinn watched bemused as two pair of pens, red and green, three high-lighters, yellow, pink and orange, a set of pastel sticky flags, and a pad of legal paper were laid out on the table beside her essay. Rachel had started to close the various pouches when she let out a small noise.
"Almost forgot!"
She pulled out a packet of foil star stickers and then, satisfied that she had everything, stowed the bag back underneath the table.
"What is... all of that?"
"My English editing equipment." She grinned, pleased with her alliteration.
"I see," Quinn's feeling about this part of the plan continued to slide along a downward slope.
"So tell me, what was the nature of the assignment?"
Blinking hard a few times, Quinn looked back up at Rachel. "We had to compare and contrast a book with its film counterpart."
"Oh, those are fun. What did you pick?"
Fun? "Sofia Coppola's Marie Antoinette. It's loosely based on Marie Antoinette: The Journey by Antonia Fraser. And Sofia used another author as a historical reference, but I didn't want to read both books."
"An interesting choice," she picked up the corner of the essay, "What did you think?"
Quinn shrugged, succumbing to the discomfort she was feeling having her homework inspected so thoroughly, "I dunno."
A brunette eyebrow arched, "You wrote a whole paper on the premise of 'I dunno'?"
"Of course not," she rolled her eyes and sighed. "The book was pretty interesting, but I liked how the movie really humanized the queen. A lot of people have heard the story, but they don't really consider that she was a teenager when all these things were happening—Dauphine at fifteen, queen at nineteen, something like that. Nobody understood what kind of pressure she was under." Rachel peered thoughtfully at Quinn who continued, "Her mother was constantly pushing her, she had all these obligations to all these people. She couldn't be her own person. They expected her to be this gracious, benevolent leader, but by the standards for women at the time and no normal life experiences. Her Austrian origins made her an outsider in France. Can you imagine how alone she must have felt? You know what I mean?"
Quinn searched Rachel's face for a moment, trying to read the look she was receiving. The other girl nodded slowly, "Yes. I think I have a fairly good idea of what you're saying."
I guess asking Rachel Berry if she knows what it feels like to be lonely wasn't very tactful. "That was a silly question, I'm sorry. I didn't mean... I know that at school... You must-"
Rachel shook her head, "It wasn't me I was thinking of," she smiled and uncapped a pen before bending her head down to read, leaving a puzzled Quinn to stare at her headband.
What's that supposed to mean?
Her macchiato had cooled enough to drink, so she sipped quietly with anxious eyes darting from her paper to Rachel. The other girl had a very elaborate process, reading the paper no less than three times. Each pass she used a different system—the pens, the flags, and so on. After the second reading, Quinn gave up trying to decipher the goings on with her paper and took to staring openly at Rachel instead. She watched the girl cup her cheek and rest on an elbow while she read, occasionally forming the words with her mouth. A lock of hair kept slipping free by her temple and she would absentmindedly push it back behind her ear. Every few minutes a little chunk of dessert bar was popped into her mouth. Quinn eventually found herself admiring the girl's sweater—Different from the one she wore to school—and then moved on to looking at her hands—Definitely not manly. What was I thinking when I started calling her that?
Rachel peeled a gold star sticker off the sheet and pressed it firmly onto the top right corner of the page. "All done."
"Was it any good? Did it suck?"
She laughed lightly, "It was fine, Quinn."
"Just fine?"
She folded her arms on top of the table, "Would you like to let me finish?"
Quinn blushed, "I—yes. Please."
"It's a very good paper, but there's always room for improvement. I caught a few typos and one incorrect spelling—a homophone. Your voice is strong, I can definitely tell who wrote this paper," she smiled, which Quinn returned, if somewhat meekly, "Your conclusion is a little abrupt—I left you a note with some suggestions to improve it." She held out the paper, "Also, it has the highest award I can bestow upon a paper."
The blonde took the paper hesitantly, "It does?
"The Rachel Berry Gold Star Seal of Approval." She tapped the spot with the foil sticker.
That doubled as a laugh and a flood of relief for Quinn, "So it is good?"
"Yes, you're a good writer, Quinn. I hardly think you needed my help, but I'm glad you asked. I'm interested to watch the movie, too."
"You've never seen it?" Rachel shook her head as she began to pack up her things. "You have to! It's such a good film. I mean, some people think the pacing is a bit slow, but all those ideas I was talking about with her-"
"Well the next time my dads and I have movie night, I'll try to convince them to rent it."
"I'll lend you my copy, I'll bring it to school tomorrow. You'd like it. It's sort of your... ." Quinn wasn't quite sure how to phrase this, since her earlier allusion to Rachel as an outcast had been shrugged off.
"You really don't see it, do you?"
Here we go again, what is she talking about? "See what?"
"The story isn't about me. I mean, obviously I'm not the queen of France, but the lonely girl in your essay—do you know who she is?"
What? Her shoulders sagged, "Um, Marie Antoinette?"
Rachel stood, a smile playing on her lips. She stepped around the table, picked up Quinn's pen and turned the essay toward herself. After a few quick marks, she dropped the pen and straightened. "Thank you for the Nanaimo bar. I had a good time, maybe we can do it again? Let me know when your next paper is due."
"Yeah, of course! I—me, too." Why am I stumbling all of a sudden? Rachel smiled as she headed for the door. "I'll bring the movie tomorrow," Quinn called after her, the other girl tossed a wave over her shoulder and disappeared through the exit.
Did I just choke? I think I just choked. I completely lost control of this date. And that thing at the end, what kind of cryptic-
Her eyes settled on her paper. Rachel had changed the title. Where before the centered text had said, "Fall of a Teen Queen" some words were crossed out and a new one was written above.
"Fall of Teen Quinn"
"Oh," she murmured. Taking a swig from her now tepid drink, she began to read all of Rachel's small notes. When she touched the corner to turn the page, she smiled reflexively at the feel of the star under her fingers.