A/N: Just an Easter fluff update; a break from the drama, if I may. Thank you for all your reviews, comments and opinions. I feel really grateful that you have been participating in the process. I take all your views into account.

This chapter is a flashback.

Please press my rec and play, 'cause I want to save this moment – Rec & Play

"Well, look at you", Rachel grinned while watching Quinn step out of what used to be her father's den, and now her temporary room, using crutches as opposed to the wheelchair. It was a sight to behold. Rachel had never seen the blonde girl beam that way. "Santana told me to drop by ASAP. I thought something was wrong. I had no idea", the brunette stepped forward and extended her hand in case Quinn needed help.

"Thanks, but I want to get used to these things on my own", Quinn said then used her mouth to point at one of the crutches. "It's one thing to have a sprained ankle during my stint at cheerleading; it's another thing to have my knee cap busted." After a few moments of careful and deliberate small steps, she let out a sigh of relief after sitting down on their living room couch. "Okay, that felt really good but exhausting", she chuckled.

Rachel sat down next to Quinn and tucked away some strands of hair that fell on the blonde's face. "I bet. Anything I can get you? Water?"

"I should be asking you that since you're in my house, Rach." Quinn was clearly embarrassed by her seeming lack of hospitality. After all, she had been taught well by her mother on matters of etiquette. "How did you get in, by the way?"

Rachel gave her an incredulous look. "I've been keeping you company for a few months now, Quinn. Do you really still wonder? I know where your keys are hidden outside" She stood up and turned around to get Quinn a bottle of water. "And for goodness sake, Quinn. I really don't need to argue with you for the nth time on asking me for help." The brunette navigated her way to the kitchen like she owned the place and returned as quickly as possible.

"Thanks", Quinn muttered shyly. "They're going to take off the cast from my leg next month if things go well. I'll be using some form of brace and, of course, my trusty crutches. I'm glad I'm a fast healer. By the time I go to Yale, I'll most likely just use a knee support."

"How's everything else, though?", Rachel asked apprehensively.

"Everything's healing as expected"

"No, I meant…have you gone to therapy? Not physical, I mean"

Quinn shifted her position slowly, lifting her legs on the ottoman. "No, I..I haven't. I kind of wanted to address things one at a time. Physical therapy is taxing enough. And , uhm." Quinn twisted the bottle cap then took a sip. "I don't really have problems – I mean, I'm doing alright. I can sleep at night and you know." Of course she can sleep at night. Her mother had been giving her own pills to Quinn after a series of night terrors during the first few weeks of her return home from the hospital. But Rachel didn't need to know that. The last thing she wanted was for Rachel to think she's hooked on drugs. She wasn't at all. She had taken the pills a few times, but at most nights, she inexplicably can sleep well.

Rachel studied Quinn's face and begrudgingly agreed. For someone who went through a terrible accident – one that totaled her car no less – Quinn looked radiant. The blonde had no makeup on and could therefore not hide if she had been deprived from sleeping. Moreover, Rachel had stayed overnight several times for her to know whether the blonde was telling the truth or not. That did not stop the girl from worrying though. PTSD had been known to manifest months after a traumatic event. Just because Quinn had been doing well doesn't mean she won't feel the emotional and psychological effects later on.

Quinn squirmed under Rachel's gaze. "Uhm, yeah?"

"Nothing", Rachel smiled and shook her head. "I was just thinking how great it is that you have kept a very optimistic perspective. I'm proud of you."

"Well, you have certainly helped me along the way", Quinn whispered. "You've been a really good friend."

"I really wanted to be here for you." The diva placed her hand on top of Quinn's, then turned on the television as it had been their routine for some time now.

The blonde nodded then breathed deeply. "You've not really talked about your break up with Finn."

Rachel head snapped towards Quinn's direction, surprised at the sudden shift on topic. "What..what exactly do you want to know?"

"Is it because of me?"

"No, We – "

"I meant, because you spend so much time taking care of me.", Quinn clarified, wanting to be sure there was no room for misinterpretation. "I know Finn can be – "

"I promise it's not because of that, Quinn", Rachel interrupted, a little too quickly for Quinn's liking. "Will it be too insensitive to say your accident might be fate's way of saying I shouldn't get married to him?"

The blonde worried her lip and thought about how she would reply to her friend's question carefully because she's treading on dangerous ground. "I.. you know my stand on your betrothal to Finn, Rach. I don't really want to make of my accident anything except a moment of carelessness on my part. But I would be very honest in saying I'm not exactly devastated that you won't be marrying him."

"I may have seen a few fist pumps when you thought I wasn't looking", Rachel teased.

"Ha ha, very funny", Quinn deflected with an eye roll and a friendly shove but felt a cold shiver down her spine. She may have actually done a few celebratory upper body wiggles when Rachel had rebuked Finn on the phone for insisting to meet up while she was at Quinn's. She had always done it when the brunette's back was against her, but who knows if Rachel merely played dumb. The thought made her grimace slightly at her own immaturity.

"See? Guilty face", Rachel said with narrowed eyes and a finger pointing directly at Quinn.

"Whatever, Rach." , the blonde scoffed in her pathetic effort to downplay things. "Point is, he was never good enough for you. I've been consistent in saying he will only drag you down."

"Yes, I did recall you expressing clearly your plan to marry him just to prove that point", the brunette said matter-of-factly. "You really care that much about my future?"

Quinn tapped her fingers nervously on the armrest while pretending to find the television show interesting. "I care for all my friends, Rach", she breathed out, attempting to sound nonchalant.

"I suppose", Rachel turned her head to stare at the television as well. "You'd do the same for Santana."

"Of course. I've been known to be possessi – ", Quinn's face hardened at her own slip up. "Protective, I meant", she cleared her throat, "I've been known to be protective of my friends", she ended with a nod.

Rachel ducked her head and glanced at Quinn under hooded eyes. "It's alright to be possessive, too. I've seen it on you before."

The blonde slightly squinted. "Oh.", she quirked her eyebrows in understanding. "You meant, when I was dating Finn."

The diva hummed in response and stayed silent for a few minutes, allowing Quinn some reprieve from her friend's line of questioning."…So, would you attempt to date Santana's future girlfriend – in the event that she and Britt won't end up together – if you think the girl is detrimental to your friend's personal growth and development?"

Quinn sputtered like an old motor. "I – No, I mean – I can't really – you see—"

"Why not? Is it because you can't date a girl?"

"No, it's not that!" Quinn exclaimed with worried eyes. "I never said that"

"So you'd date a girl." It wasn't a question but rather a confirmation for Rachel. When she first heard Santana down at the hospital, the information barely registered as Quinn was fighting for her life. After a few days and they have calmed down a bit; she gathered the courage to ask Santana what she meant when Quinn was being sent to the Operating Room. Santana merely shrugged and said "Whatever it was you heard me say, I wasn't fibbing."

So Quinn didn't want her to marry Finn and that she would be the sole reason why the blonde would be fighting to stay alive. After piecing all the information together, of course it only led Rachel to one realization. At the risk of sounding egotistic, she concluded that Quinn Fabray was in love with her.

And that made absolutely no sense whatsoever.

Rachel – being brought up in a very liberal environment at home – never really defined her sexuality on a conventional basis. The thought of being in a romantic relationship with another woman did not really occurred to her in the past; but that had been mostly because she continued to struggle with keeping a friendship with the same sex, let alone an intimate one. Women for her are mostly competition to things already considered scarce resources – love and fame, not potential mates.

But here is Quinn Fabray, former competition for love and popularity. Quinn Fabray, who once offered to give up her own future so that the songbird could spread her wings and fly away from Lima. Quinn Fabray, who almost died just to follow the diva's wedding request.

Quinn Fabray was in love with her. And this girl had shown time and again how much she was willing to go through lengths to give Rachel everything.

And that same Quinn Fabray is currently staring at her like she had grown a second head. "What?"

"I said..", Quinn spoke in a low whisper. "I don't rule out the possibility of, you know."

"Oh"

"Yeah"

"…"

"But that's not – I mean, with Santana. It's a different situation." Quinn cleared up.

"Because?"

"Be – Because, because Santana doesn't need anyone to do that"

"You think I do?"

Quinn chewed her lower lip and looked away. "Santana is much grounded in reality. Too grounded, if you ask me. You.. you're a dreamer, Rach. You live inside your dreams. And I love that about you. But sometimes…sometimes you need a good knock on your noggin just to get the message across."

"And you think you can do that for me. Be the sensible one in my life, I mean", Rachel whispered.

Quinn looked down to hide the burn creeping up on her cheeks. "It..doesn't have to be me. Kurt.." she looked up and smiled, "Kurt's very sensible, too"

"He is.", Rachel nodded in agreement. "but he's not half as pretty as you.", she giggled.

"What's that got to do with anything?", Quinn said in feigned annoyance.

Rachel bit her inner cheek."Nothing. I just felt like you needed to be ahead of Kurt over something."

"Ah. Thanks for boosting my ego."

"What I'm saying is, I want you to be that person. Not Kurt."

"But you never listen to me", Quinn protested.

Rachel smirked. "I don't listen to my friends, as a general rule."

"Yeah, so…" Quinn didn't finish whatever retort she had formed in her head. Math Logic had always been a favorite subject of hers and she was really damn good at it. Was Rachel throwing her a syllogism?

If Rachel doesn't listen to her friends.

And she wants Quinn to be the person she listens to.

Then.

Rachel doesn't want to be her friend.

There are two possible conclusions to this, of course, Quinn thought to herself. But the negative can't even be considered because Rachel hasn't run away. She was in fact moving closer. Very close. Like, scooting closer kind of close.

"Yeah, so..", Rachel parroted Quinn then smiled widely and chuckled. She took Quinn's hand, rested her head on the former Cheerio's shoulder and switched her focus on the television.

Meerkat Manor rerun had never been more interesting.

The blonde smiled back and shook her head. She had been in this position several times, with Finn, Sam, and Puck. It's a dance – a mating ritual even – that she knows very well. But never did her heart beat so loud that it had taken over all other forms of senses. She couldn't breathe. It was daunting. It made her want to cry and laugh and run a thousand suicides then be shot high up in the air by a cannon.

In short, it was glorious.