Faithfully

A/N: So…whoa.

I so wasn't expecting the response I got out of you guys. Thank you for your insanely inspiring and hilarious reviews, I loved every single one of them!

Enjoy!

BTW: This chapter is named after the popular song, "Hello, I Love You", By The Doors, As made ever more popular by Glee on the episode, "Hell-O". Hehe..

Chapter 2

Quinn was seriously dreading the nighttime.

She fucking hated bars.

And eager Lesbians.

There was a certain irritating edge to their pathetic advances to her. Even though most of the time, they were all quite intimidated, which was only natural. It was a trait she had carried all the way from high school.

Her blue eyes, full lips, and long legs, because you would most definitely never catch Quinn Fabray in a pair of pants, it was all an image, and an enticing and inviting one at that, one that caused both men and women to salivate when they saw her.

And maybe that was a really bad thing, for her to parade around the streets of West Hollywood with cut off shorts and strappy spiked sandals.

But she really couldn't help it. It wasn't like her to step out and not dress for the occasion, even if she wasn't planning on getting any action or meeting anyone, she never allowed her appearance to slack.

Another trait that she carried from High School.

She always had a certain urge to wear things with no sleeves, things that would show off her tattooed arm, maybe, if she put her long tendrils up on her head, they would even see the second tattoo inscribed on her neck.

Beth, was what it said, and the few women that attempted to make sense of it just concluded that it was a girlfriend, or perhaps even wife, and that warded them off.

But not tonight.

No, you see tonight she decided to throw some curls to her blonde locks, she donned her shortest shorts, and the diamonds from her sandals sparkled brighter than any other pair she owned.

The corset was black, and she hung a necklace from her neck to attempt to distract the stares.

Yeah, right.

In basic terminology Quinn was looking more than sexy, and she could honestly have cared less. The only thing she was really looking forward to or rather, very excited about was the opportunity to see her two best friends grew immensely wasted and also to don just a few drinks herself.

She was the designated driver, as per normal.

A honk ripped her mind from her musings and she exited her home only to spot a certain Latina and a certain Blonde getting far too carried away in the front seat of the black Escalade.

"Get a god damn room please…" Quinn said with a roll of her eyes as the two managed to untangle themselves from each other and sit right in their seats, as she climbed in the backseat with a grin directed towards the most eager of all eager Lesbians,

Brittany.

"Hi Britt, how'd rehearsal go?" She spoke to the loveable female.

"It was good…but let's not talk so much about me, Quinn…why don't you like going out with San and I?"

Straight to the point, always.

And Quinn actually had use her brain before answering the question aimed at her so soon in the evening because she couldn't look at Brittany and say, 'because I'm in love with Rachel Berry, you know from high school?' but then she couldn't exactly tell the girl to 'fuck off' either.

"Oh Britt I love going out with you, it's just your wife."

"Yeah, yeah, you make me want to vomit my fucking lunch too, Fabray." The feisty woman said from the driver's seat, taking a break from her road rage to comment.

"I always knew we were going to be such good friends, you know when I first met you, I thought, 'wow, she's the sweetest person I ever met'." Quinn said meaningfully putting her hand on Santana's shoulder, only for it to be shrugged off immediately.

"Fuck you and everything you stand for Fabray."

"Considering I stand for about half of the sins printed in the bible, thanks, you're about halfway to heaven now…"

"Hey, you know something Quinn when I first met Santana, I thought she was really nice too!"

Oh, Brittany.

It took approximately forty-five minutes for Santana and Brittany to get really pissed, and practically attempt to fornicate on the dance floor of the bar they were inhabiting.

It was a glorious moment for Quinn.

She sipped on her beer with ease, watching the duo as they embarrassed every other lust drunk couple with their sloppy and sexual gyrating and grinding. It was quite hilarious, but even more so when Santana, surprisingly the dopy one when she was drunk, almost fell over, and that inspired Quinn to laugh and take another swig of her beer.

"Hey sexy." A voice that instantly made Quinn sick to the stomach, filled her ears and she rolled her eyes before glancing up at the strawberry blonde who was taking a seat next to her without asking.

"Oh wow." Quinn stated, as the girl scooted far too close for her liking and settled her hand on her thigh, as if she was meant to all her life.

Ugh.

Eager Lesbians.

"So, need another one of those beers?" The woman questioned and Quinn kept her stare on her two horny drunk friends who were heating up the dance floor with their moves.

"Not really, I'm not even finished, I'm designated driving." She spoke absentmindedly, not really in the mood for much conversation.

"Hmmm, what's your name?" The woman had upgraded to her finger caressing the smoothness of Quinn's leg, and that only made the tattooed blonde want to barf even more than she did when she first sat down.

"Ugh, on second thought I might need another drink…"

"You know we could have a really good time…"

"We aren't now?"

"You aren't letting me, and I honestly just want to dance with you…you're really sexy."

Quinn tore her eyes from Santana and Brittany for the slightest to stare at the intruding woman.

"Here's the thing, you didn't have me at 'hey sexy', then you invaded my damn personal space and proceeded to practically molest me with your wandering hand," Quinn grabbed said hand placed it firmly on the girl's lap, desperate to remove herself from the moment.

"I'm really not interested." Quinn said crossing her legs and focusing on her two friend's who had conveniently disappeared…probably to the bathroom or something.

"As a matter of fact, I think I need some air, if you'll excuse me." And with that she raised herself from the seat she was taking up, and from the presence of the eager strawberry blonde who was seriously looking for some action from the tattoo artist.

Not gonna happen.

She stepped outside the bar doors, and let the night air take up space in her nostrils.

"Jesus fucking Christ, when will I ever get her out of my fucking brain."

It was a rhetorical question that could never be answered.

Well unless god had some way of seriously letting her know the exact date when her days and weeks and years would not revolve around Rachel fucking Berry and where she was now and if she was single, and 'excuse me, but I've been in love with you for nine years, wanna say you love me back now?'

It would never happen, unless she wanted to be over the singer.

Hell no.

She decided to take a seat on the side of the curb, her legs gapped open and her arms resting on her knees.

The music from the club echoed around her and she ran a defeated hand through her blonde tendrils, seriously realizing that maybe…it was time to let her love go.

"Seriously?" She asked herself the inquiry spoken out loud and she wondered if she could even gain the strength to allow herself to move on.

Hell no.

She had tried on many occasions and it was like the woman was a addiction of some sort, she couldn't stop herself from having this warped notion that someday somewhere she would find her and they would be together.

Aww, it would a lot sweeter if it were realistic.

Briefly she recovered from her selfish thoughts to wonder about her drunken friends, but she was pretty sure they were more into themselves than her at the exact moment in time.

Most likely attempting to make quiet love in a dirty bathroom stall.

Sounds delightful, in Quinn's opinion.

The doors from the bar opened to reveal Ms. Strawberry herself only now being accompanied by a stumbling Brittany and Santana.

"Speaking of the devil."

"Quinnnnn…" Santana drawled and she held onto Brittany for support which was pretty futile considering Brittany had no balance at all.

"Quinnie, this pretty g-girl said she knew youuuu…and we asked her where you were and she said out here….and now here you arrrrre! I s-sound like a pirate…" Brittany slurred.

Santana inched to Quinn breathing her achohol induced breath into her face, which caused Quinn's nose to scrunch up in slight disgust, "Brittany's drunk…shhhh! Don't tell her I said t-that though."

And this is the enjoyment that came from the terrible bar hopping.

Quinn laughed at her pissed friends before glancing up at strawberry, "Thanks for bringing them to me."

"Whatever." The woman said and she practically dropped Brittany off on the concrete. Quinn rolled her eyes as the bitter strawberry went back into the bar, a little bit hurt from the exchange she had so literally failed at with the sexy tattoo artist she had been praying that she would get the chance to bed, and Quinn quite honestly couldn't blame her for being just a little bit upset.

She did kind of turn her down.

But she didn't have to be so damn rude about getting rejected, why couldn't she be nice about it?

Why couldn't you be nice about not wanting to sleep with her?

Touche.

"Bitcccchh…" Santana slurred. And Quinn brought her thoughts back to the two females she had agreed to accompany on this fine evening who undoubtedly had allowed themselves to get clumsy drunk, which left her the task of taking care of them, like always.

Now the only problem with this moment was that Quinn had no earthly idea how to get two drunk clumsy people back to their home, by herself.

It would be different if it was one, but two? Hell no. that's a double load of throwing up and stumbling and crying.

Ugh, she really fucking hated bars.

Quinn glanced up at the sky, before grabbing Brittany's arm and winding it with Santana's where they intertwined fingers.

"Okay, walk ahead of me at all times, we're going to attempt to move to the car, how's that sound?"

The two seemed to be seriously into each other, and obviously did not hear her. She was only led to believe that since they chose not to comment on her plan, probably because their mouths were fused together in a heated embrace.

It was one of the many times she felt left out.

Not about the kissing thing...yuck.

But...was sounding slightly tempting...being drunk.

And as she walked the walk, she prayed that her shameful steps would be over soon and that the black SUV was in sight, because she really couldn't stand being the third, sober wheel. She couldn't help but wonder if she would feel any better as wasted as her friends were.

Because drunk and clumsy would most definitely ruin the prospect of bitter and mourning a loss of someone you never had in the very first place.

Someone who you could possibly never have the second chance with, ever.

"Quinn?"

And she froze.

She was surely so depressed that she was hallucinating, now, because that most definitely on the streets of West Hollywood outside of a gay bar could not have been the voice of one Rachel Berry, whom she was in love with.

The one she just so happened to be letting her mind wander over moments and days and weeks and years before. It wasn't possible that fate and Jesus Christ coincided with each other for once in her very unlucky life, and brought this miracle to face her.

It just couldn't be.

"Quinn, is that you?"

She shut her eyes and willed herself, it could be a dream, it could be a sick dream with someone else in place, it could be some other woman with the voice of an agel talking to another Quinn.

Stop being a pussy Fabray, turn around.

She pinched her nose and turned.

Standing there, in a short black dress, a few inches taller than she was because of her black pumps stood that love that she lost, her long brown hair falling as long as it did in high school and her brown eyes transfixed on the blonde in front of her.

She could have possibly doubted by the maturity and lack of argyle that this woman wasn't Rachel, until she smiled the smile.

The wide, 'Rachel Berry', smile.

The one that caused her to fall in love with her in the very first place.

"Rachel…" Quinn was entranced by this meeting and didn't quite know what to say or do, granted she was stuck staring at the face of the beauty. She was stuck staring at the face of the woman she had loved for so many years. The woman she had been set on giving her life to, giving her heart to. The woman that she had so much to say to, the woman with the most words saved for her by the blonde tattoo artist who was so far gone in love with her. There was so much that was to be spoken, so many ways the revelation could be uncovered, so many tempting adresses on the tip of Quinn's tongue...

And yet, there was nothing she could say.

She was reduced to silence, and it seemed so was an equally entranced Rachel.

For once.

"Yeah…"

That was the moment where her friends whom she was supposed to be helping get into the safe confining of their vehicle, chose to fall over onto the concrete after an intense make-out session ripping Rachel and Quinn's staring contest to a close, and Quinn rushed to pick them up, unlocking and opening the door to the Escalade.

The two giggling women climbed into the car, and Quinn shut the door and stared at herself in the reflection of the window, glancing up to see those brown eyes still staring back heatedly at her.

"I've got to go…" She spoke and she scrambled to get to the driver's side of the car. It was an honest fight or flight inctinct. And the one moment where she was actually supposed to fight, the moment where she was supposed to will herself to be the brave Quinn Fabray from high school, who had nothing to hide, and everything to say, she didn't.

She allowed herself to cower, she allowed herself to take flight.

"Quinn wait-" But Rachel's words were cut short, as the blonde started the Escalade and sped out of the parking lot at a speed only reserved for criminals.

She left Rachel staring after the taillights, the smile dimmed just a little, but still on her mouth, still there...because she just ran into Quinn Fabray.

However the Quinn Fabray in question was feeling remorseful, she was feeling like a fucking dumbass, and didn't have a smile to show because, after nine years of mourning and missing, she ran into Rachel fucking Berry in the parking lot of a gay bar.

And she fled.

Like the coward and very unlike the head bitch in charge Quinn Fabray that she usually was, but damn it.

It was her.

And she had this spell over her.

And just when she was starting to form a slow grip on it,

She was back in Quinn's life, with her smiles and her body and her…everything. Rachel Berry was unknowingly driving Quinn crazy and she spoke to her for about five seconds for the first time in nine years. Instead of opening up, or even saying, 'wow, nice to see you,'

She fled.

A/N: Hehe, I know you all are pissed at Quinn, right? I know…but it just didn't seem realistic for them to see each other and for her to have anything to say…she's in shock.

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