A/N: Hello again, gang. A fairly beefy update for your end of Easter gift. :) Big thanks to the anon who included me in a list of fic recs over on l chat. That made my weekend and motivated me to get this monster churned out before going to bed. Thank you, thank you to everyone for the kind comments, it means a lot.

I'm bumping the rating up on this because it occurred to me that despite being immature, teenagers have a tendency to get themselves into very mature scenarios. Nothing crazy in this chapter, but angst and other things are on the horizon and I think they'll warrant the M rating when we get there. And, of course, not everything that happens in the M category is a bad thing. ;)

True to her word, Quinn brought her copy of Marie Antoinette with her to school the following day. She had debated with herself for close to twenty minutes about the small sticky note hidden inside. First unsure if she should include a note, then stumped about what to write on it. Once she had settled on something, she slipped back into panic about adding a note at all. Her eagerness to push the operation forward won out. A yellow, flower-shaped post-it was pressed against the inside panel of the DVD case—"Rachel, I don't have a seal of approval, but this film definitely receives two enthusiastic Fabray Thumbs Up. Thank you again for your help. I really appreciate it. ~Q"

I just hope she doesn't open it right away when I hand it to her. Don't want to see her face when she reads it, in case she thinks it's lame. It's kind of corny. Is it too forward? It doesn't seem too forward. Maybe I should have stuck with...

"Hey," Mercedes had walked up to Quinn's locker at some point.

The blonde startled slightly, "Hey."

"Whatcha got?" she nodded at the case clutched in Quinn's hand.

"Nothing. I mean, it's a movie." Mercedes squinted at her, so she kept going. "Um, I told Berry I'd let her borrow it."

"What one?" Quinn had started to tilt the case away subconsciously, but not far enough to make the title indistinguishable. "Marie Antoinette? Really? Remember when you made me watch that?"

Quinn frowned, "Yes."

Rolling her eyes, Mercedes continued, "Longest movie ever. Why does she want to borrow it? She on some kick about royalty? If we end up having to do some crazy French thing in Glee-"

"I-I suggested it. It's a good movie."

"Uh huh. Well, beauty is in the eye of the beholder."

"Right. I want to try to catch her before class and... and give this to her. See you later."

Before Mercedes' "Bye" could escape her lips, Quinn was already gone. She took out her phone and tapped her partner in gossip a message.

←So now they're swapping movies.

Kurt's ever-instantaneous reply followed.

→What mysterious 'they' are we talking about?

Mercedes watched Quinn approach Rachel's locker.

←R&Q. Think we need to do some detective work.

→Exciting!

Down the hall, Quinn was holding the DVD case in front of her as though it were a shield.

"Hey, Rachel."

"Oh, hello, Quinn," Rachel smiled at her. She seemed a little less sure of herself than she had at the coffee shop, which helped Quinn with her nerves. Slightly.

"I wanted to thank you again," Okay this is exactly what I wrote in my note, now it's just going to be redundant, "for your help. Here's the movie."

Rachel took the case and turned it over in her hands, but didn't open it. Small miracles. She gently bit her lower lip while reading the small blurb on the back. When she looked back up, her expression seemed doubtful. Oh God, she thinks it looks stupid. Now I've given her a stupid film with a stupid note. Why is this so hard? How do guys do this? I'm smart, I'm a girl, I should know-

"What would you think about watching it together?"

WHAT? "What?"

Rachel lowered her eyes, "Of course, if you don't want to... ."

"No! I mean, yes. I'd like that. When? Whose house?" This is perfect! Perfect!

Confidence blossomed in the other girl's features, "Well, Friday nights are my dads' date night. They always go out to dinner and a movie. We would have the TV to ourselves. Do you have any plans?"

"No, no plans," That's when I used to hang out with Sam, "Friday night is great. Do you want to order a pizza or something? Do you eat pizza?"

Rachel laughed, "Of course I eat pizza, Quinn. I am a teenager, after all."

"Well, but cheese?"

She reached out and patted the perplexed girl's shoulder, "If you ask nicely, they will leave the cheese off."

I'm such an idiot, that's such an obvious...ugh. "Right, right. So... what time should I... ?"

"Six?"

Does this count as another date? Was the first one even a date? If I pay for the pizza can this be a date? Oh, she's waiting for an answer. "I'll be there."

The pair grinned at each other, unaware of anyone monitoring their exchange. In total, no fewer than three sets of eyes had surveyed them from various vantage points in the hall. With interest.

Glee was somehow bending the physics of time on Friday afternoon. Everyone's inspirational song felt like it went on forever. Quinn wouldn't have minded a repeat of Rachel's song, "Firework". She wasn't the biggest fan of Katy Perry, but the power behind Rachel's voice really did make the song feel inspiring. When the tiny girl had started to jump up and down during the performance, Quinn's smile broadened and she self-consciously moved to cover her mouth with her hand. Even when the two of them had been most at odds, hearing the girl sing had always made a warmth settle in her chest.

I just have a strong appreciation for talent, that's all. Anyone with ears could tell Rachel is talented. Nothing wrong with admiring talent.

Though Quinn was used to performing for an audience after her years with the Cheerios, she was always a little anxious singing in Glee. Her taste in music was a bit different from the other kids. She grew up listening to the oldies and even though she enjoyed a lot of current popular music, her go-to songs were always from decades past. There was also no denying that singing after Rachel was intimidating. None the less, she took the floor and gave her best effort. Her voice wasn't terribly strong, but she put as much energy as she could behind each verse of "Help!"

Quinn inadvertently caught Rachel's eye as she sang. The other girl was mouthing the lyrics and beaming. She gave Quinn a small nod of encouragement and it stirred a rush inside her. She finished the last chorus with a solid resonance that surprised even herself. Everyone clapped, but the applause she was most cognizant of was Rachel's.

"All right, great job, everybody!" Mr. Schue commented as the clapping died down. "No weekend assignment—go out and have some fun, you've earned it." He picked up his notepad and was the first out the door.

Quinn was still a little flushed from her performance as she approached her chair to collect her things. Rachel had her binder clutched to her chest, still smiling.

"That was quite lovely, Quinn."

Her flush turned to a blush, "Thanks."

"Are you a fan of the Beatles?"

Quinn shrugged, "Yeah, but who isn't?"

Rachel gave a thoughtful nod, "I suppose you're right, they were quite popular." 'Cause that's not an understatement or anything. "I enjoy them, too. Of course, the obligatory Beatles question: Which one is your favorite?"

"Ringo."

"Really, why?"

Quinn wrinkled her brow in thought, "I guess he always seemed the most laid back. If you watch their old televised stuff, he just looks like he's having a good time. He's pretty funny in interviews, too."

"He's also my favorite, actually."

"Oh? Why?" Rachel tilted her head down slightly and brought her finger up to the tip of her nose, which made Quinn laugh. "Ah, I get it."

Grinning, "Anyway, I'll see you later?"

"Six o'clock."

Rachel nodded and headed out the door with the rest of the kids. Well, most of them.

"Since when are you and Stubbles besties?"

Quinn rolled her head back onto her shoulders, eyes on the ceiling, "Mind your own business, Santana."

Santana slowly picked her way through the chairs, descending from her seat in the back corner of the room. "You were trying to pull something over on her just a few days ago and now you're hanging out with her on a Friday night?"

"I told you that was a misunderstanding and I'll say it again," Quinn turned to face the other girl, "It's none of your business."

"Oh, well, if it was such an innocent thing, trying to get B to lock the girl up in a closet full of cleaning chemicals, then I guess it won't be a big deal if I bring it up to the dwarf, right?" Santana watched Quinn's whole body tense. "Like I thought," she smirked. "But, I bet whatever it is you're trying to hide will be a lot juicier if I let you keep stewing in it for a while." Quinn was glaring now. "Best watch your back, Q."

After Santana sauntered out of the room, Quinn slammed her notebook shut. Why is she such a bitch all the time? We used to be on the same team. Her scowl melted into a frown. We used to be friends. Shaking her head, she scooped up her notebook and bag, then headed out the door. A familiar train of memories started queuing up in her mind, all the events that had transpired between herself and Santana over the last year. It was depressing and circular. Though she wouldn't admit how often she thought about it, she genuinely missed San as a friend. She forced herself to think about her evening with Rachel instead. It worked to bring her out the funk Santana had triggered; she found herself smiling on the drive home.

No reason to be nervous. Watching a movie. I won't even have to talk much. We'll just have pizza and watch the movie and I'll go home. This is not a big deal. I mean, it is a big deal, it's gonna put me like a week ahead of schedule on the friendship step of my plan, but I need to act like it's not a big deal. Right? If I act like it's a big deal, maybe she'll get uncomfortable. What's taking her so long to answer the door? I am at the right house, right? I didn't actually check to make sure that this is where she lives, but I mean-I've driven past and seen her here. In the yard. Not like I drive by a lot. Since we live in the same area it just makes sense that I would know where she lives. Because this is where she lives... should I ring the doorbell again?

Quinn's silent panic was interrupted by the door opening. "Hi, Quinn. Sorry, I had to wash off my hands before I could grab the door."

Relieved she was at the right house, Quinn waved off the apology and stepped inside. "No problem, I wasn't waiting long or anything." It just felt like forever. Quinn looked around the entryway. She was able to see a bit into the living room and almost into the doorway of the kitchen.

Rachel shut the front door and turned to face Quinn, "Would you like the tour? Can I take your jacket?"

She slipped of her jacket and handed it over so it could be tucked into the coat closet, just to their left. Quinn really was curious and she imagined that Rachel didn't get the chance to show guests around very often. "I'd love a tour."

Looking delighted, Rachel held up both hands, "Okay, wait here one second. I'm going to put this away and I'll be right back," she gestured at the apron she was wearing. I didn't even notice that. Rachel was wearing a yellow and pink apron with stars on it—Of course—over a loose-fitting sweater and, to her surprise, jeans. I guess I've seen her wear jeans before, just so used to the skirts. Quinn nodded her agreement and the other girl scampered away. She heard a few clanging noises from the kitchen while she examined a family photo on the wall by the entrance. What on earth is she doing in there?

A moment later and Rachel was back at the entry. "Just tidying a few things, all set now."

"Were you baking?"

Rachel's eyes widened comically, "What makes you say that?"

Quinn smirked, "Well, there was the apron and," she reach out with her hand, but pulled back slightly, "it looks like you've got some flour in your bangs. Just there," she pointed.

"Oh!" Her hand immediately shot up and started ruffling her hair to remove the offending powder, "Is it gone? How embarrassing."

"Ha, yeah, you got it. So, you were baking?"

The shorter girl pouted slightly, "I meant for it to be a surprise. I made cookies for us."

"You didn't have to do that. I think that means I get to pay for the pizza."

"My dads left money to-"

"Nope, I'm buying. You can't stop me."

Rachel folded her arms, "I guess we'll see about that when the pizza arrives."

Quinn smiled, "I guess so. Speaking of, let's get this tour started so we can order that pizza."

"Fine, follow me. First stop—the Oscar room!" Rachel took off with Quinn trailing behind her. What is an Oscar room?

The tour lasted about ten minutes. Quinn found out an "Oscar room" was pretty much the same thing as a rec room—For a family that has strong feelings about theatrical arts—and that Rachel's room was yellow, not pink, like she had expected. Hard to tell from those MySpace videos. She could also tell how invested Rachel's parents were her, with photos of and awards earned by Rachel littering every wall and shelf. It was a melancholy feeling for Quinn. Her home had cheer trophies and other accomplishments of hers and her older sister's on exhibit, but it didn't feel the same. The difference, she decided, was that for every proud keepsake in this home, there was a matching adorable, goofy photo of the three of them. It made Quinn's home feel more like a display case than a family dwelling.

Having made their way back to the living room, Rachel picked up the phone. "What do you like on your pizza? Canadian bacon?"

"I'm not actually a big fan of Canadian bacon."

"Oh, regular bacon, then?"

Quinn raised an eyebrow, "Who gets bacon put on a pizza?"

Rachel looked mildly panicked, "I just thought you liked bacon."

"What are you talking about?"

"So, you don't like bacon?"

"Rachel, I like bacon just fine, but it's not the only food I eat. Where is this bacon thing coming from?"

Turning the phone over in her hand as she spoke, the smaller girl stammered a little, "Well, I—it's just that Noah said when you lived with him you were always complaining about not getting to have bacon. And I assumed if you brought it up regularly, it might be a favorite of yours. I was just guessing that as a favorite food, it might be a logical topping you w-"

"Okay, timeout." Quinn took a step forward and plucked the phone out of Rachel's nervous hands, "First of all, Puck is an idiot. Second, I mentioned it a total of two times when I was living with him. Two times. Third, anytime you're told you can't have something, it makes you want it more. And fourth? Pregnancy cravings. End of story."

Rachel looked thoroughly abashed, "Sorry. Now you probably think I'm an idiot."

That may have come off a little harsh. Quinn smiled at the brunette, "You are definitely not an idiot. What do you like on pizza?"

She still looked a little embarrassed, but she was smiling again, "I usually get a veggie supreme."

"Without cheese?"

She nodded, "Without cheese."

"All right. How about you get the movie started and I'll order the pizza?"

"Okay! I'll get the movie from my room," she was already on her way to the stairs.

"Hey, do you want a soda?"

"I don't drink soda," she called over her shoulder, "Soda is bad for the enamel on your teeth and-"

"Stopping you there, just get the movie, please."

A "sorry" and an "okay" drifted back down the stairs. While Rachel was gone, Quinn called in the order and was hanging up just as she came back down, DVD case held in her right hand.

"It'll be here in about thirty-five minutes."

"Great. I'm starving after all the work I did this afternoon," Rachel walked over to the entertainment center and start pushing buttons.

Quinn took a seat on the long couch facing the TV, "Super exhaustive baking?"

The other girl laugh, popping open the case and extracting the disc, "I didn't just bake. I also helped Daddy clean the garage for a while."

"Oh." That explains the jeans. She was about to ask a follow-up question, when she remembered the note in the movie box.

Rachel was pushing the disc tray back in, when she looked down to shut the case. She stopped halfway through the gesture and brought her fingers to the inside flap. Quinn held her breath, internally cursing the note. But the other girl just smiled and finished closing the case before turning to join her on the sofa.

"I hope you get a good grade on the essay, by the way." She reached for a remote from a small arrangement of two others on the coffee table and highlighted the option to start the movie.

Glad that the other girl's attention seemed to be on the screen, Quinn shrugged and replied, "Yeah, me, too."

The film started and neither spoke for a few minutes.

"Oh my goodness! That dog is adorable!"

Quinn chuckled, "There are a lot of cute dogs in this."

"Good," Rachel nodded her approval.

A few scenes later, Quinn was watching her companion carefully out of the corner of her eye. Mops, the adorable dog in question, was being pried out of Marie Antoinette's arms. The look on Rachel's face is-

Precious. I bet she cries at the end. I always do.

"I can't believe they take away her puppy!"

"Relax, Rach, she gets him back."

"Promise?"

Laughing, "Promise."

"Okay," she murmurs, doubtfully.

Falling back into silence, they continue watching. Rachel showing every reaction to each shot plainly on her face, Quinn peeking at her to enjoy the ever-changing landscape of emotions. Both are startled when the doorbell rings. Rachel pauses the movie, and they head to the door together.

Stopping short, "Oh, I need to get the cash. Can you grab the-"

Quinn nods, "I've got it." Rachel steps away and Quinn opens the door, greeting the delivery guy. She signs the receipt and accepts a large pizza and a drink for herself. They exchange thanks and "have a good evening" and she kicks the door shut with her foot.

Returning, money in hand, Rachel stares at her, "Wait, but I still need to... ." Quinn smirks. "You paid for it before I could get back?"

"You underestimate me," Quinn takes a draft of soda through the straw of her drink, "I paid for it with my debit card when I ordered it. There was no way you were going to pay for this."

With her hands on her hips, but smiling, "Quinn Fabray, you are sneaky."

"You flatter me. Where would you like your pizza, Rachel Berry?"

The other girl laughs, "In the kitchen, I'll get us plates."

This is going really well. I'm actually having fun. Fun with Berry, who would have guessed?

When they walk back into the living room, the pair glance at the screen and then back at each other before erupting with laughter.

"Nice pause job," Quinn snickers as she sits down.

"It's not my fault!" Rachel had managed to pause at an awkward moment in which the main character is standing naked in her room, surrounded by onlookers, trying desperately to cover herself while a preposterous dressing sequence is taking place.

The movie plays on, with the girls sharing the occasional giggle or amused look. Not quite halfway through the film, Rachel turns to study Quinn. The scene playing out is one the blonde had referenced a few times in her paper—Marie collapse softly and breaks the fourth wall, staring helplessly at the audience. Hazel eyes gaze back at the tired girl on the screen. Rachel can tell her theory from the other evening was correct and that Quinn connects quite deeply with the character, in her own way. She smiles a secret smile from her side of the sofa, realizing that by sharing the film with her, Quinn is letting Rachel behind her walls. She stares just a little too long; Quinn, having sensed the scrutiny, turns to face her.

The way Rachel is staring at her makes her feel exposed, but not uncomfortable. Her mind is devoid of coherent thought, her inner monologue having abandoned her, and all she can do is look back. The expression on the other girl's face is warm, reassuring. A small thought solidifies and drifts to the surface.

She understands.

Rachel's eyes flutter to the side, breaking the spell. They both redirect their attention to the movie.

An hour later, the girls are attempting to casually wipe tears away as the closing music floats in over the last shot of the ravaged French palace. A few sniffles transpire while the credits roll.

"You were right, that was a good movie."

"Not everybody seems to think so, but when you like it, you love it, you know?"

"Yes, definitely." Rachel stretched out her legs, "Want some cookies?"

Quinn was cracking her neck, "Yeah, I almost forgot. Could use a pick-me-up about now, poor Marie."

"No joke," rising from the couch, both girls shuffle into the kitchen. With a mildly dramatic flourish and deliberate ceremony, Rachel spins with the plate of cookies and sets them down in the center of the counter closest to Quinn.

Quinn picks up a star-shaped (What else?) cookie and examines it, then looks over at the plate. Each cookie has either a script 'R' or a 'Q' on it in pastel colors, with a little crown design above the letter applied in frosting. The one in her hand was a 'Q', she reaches out and picks up an 'R'. "These are fantastic looking."

The compliment left Rachel glowing, "Thank you. Cookies are something of a specialty of mine."

"I can tell," Quinn stared at the confections. The symbolism of it was almost mocking her.

"They're safe to eat, you know. Not just for looking."

She looked back over at the other girl, her stomach felt heavy somehow. "Right," she took a bite from the 'Q'. They were delicious. She said so. Rachel sprung to action, finding a container and started piling cookies into it.

"I insist you take these home with you."

"No, I mean, not all of them. Keep some for you."

Quinn argued her way from taking all of them down to taking two-thirds. She'd tried to convince Rachel to only send her home with half, but she was having none of it. Now, she was standing at the door with her coat on, Tupperware crammed with cookies in-hand.

"Oops, let me get your movie."

While Rachel was in the living room, Quinn was turning thoughts over in her mind. The cumbersome emotions the crowned cookies had brought up were swimming around in her conscience. Thoughts scattered before they could congeal into anything tangible and she found herself now holding the DVD case, too. Both girls grew bashful.

"Well, thank you for sharing your movie with me. I had a good time."

"Me, too. Thanks for the cookies," she shook the container lightly.

"You're welcome."

A beat.

"I guess, I'm headed out, then."

Rachel nodded, "Have a good night."

Quinn smiled, "You, too." She still hadn't turned toward the door, she felt like she should be saying more. Rachel appeared to be thinking the same thing, her fingers had twisted together and she was having a hard time standing still. Unable to come up with anything more, Quinn's head tilted slightly in the direction of the exit when Rachel took a quick step forward and startled her with a hug. The shock passed almost instantly and she tried to reciprocate the hug, which was hard, since her hands were full. When they broke apart, Rachel was bright red, but attempting to push through her embarrassment over the impulsive gesture.

Reaching past Quinn, she pulled on the door handle and cleared her throat, "Drive safely."

Quinn wanted to laugh, but she could tell it probably wasn't the best time. Instead, she waited for Rachel's eyes to make their way back to hers and she gave the shorter girl a sincere smile, "I will. Thank you, Rachel." She nodded and Quinn finally felt ready to step out into the cold evening.

The drive home was filled with more thinking. And the thinking continued as she walked into her house, said "hello" and then "good night" to her mother, trudged up the stairs, and collapsed on her bed. Thinking, thinking. It didn't stop until she propped herself up on one elbow and eyed the movie case. Cracking it open, she looked inside and found that her sticky note had been taken out.

The heavy feeling was still there, but she was smiling again.