It was a struggle for Rachel to not go to the coffee shop at 8:00 to wait for Quinn to arrive. She decided that the better strategy was to show up promptly at 8:30 so that they could order together and hopefully sit down together and she could finally find out what Judy had been alluding to. Rachel was fully aware that Dr. Rabinowitz would tell her that she was focusing on Quinn's issues as a mechanism to avoid her own, but she was comfortable, or maybe even happy with that.

She opted to walk to the coffee shop and by the time she arrived, the crisp fall morning had caused her cheeks and the tip of her nose to turn slightly red. She caught a glimpse of herself in the door, checked her hair, and pushed her way inside, glancing around for a glimpse of her old...kind-of-friend. She smiled and gave a half wave when she spotted Quinn at a table in the corner. She ordered her coffee, took a deep breath, and headed in that direction.

"Hi." Rachel considered that a good first step. She stood awkwardly next to the empty chair across the table from Quinn, waiting for the woman to look up from the newspaper she was reading. "Interesting story?"

Quinn looked up at Rachel and sighed, "I see you wasted no time in getting here. Sit down, Rachel."

Rachel settled into the chair across from Quinn and silently sipped her coffee. She wasn't going to make the first move and was content to wait Quinn out. Rachel had learned to read people as part of her education at NYADA and had honed the skills with every role she had. She knew that pushing Quinn to talk would get her nowhere and, instead, she would have to wait for the blonde to open up to her. After a long five minutes, Quinn folded her newspaper, looked across the table at Rachel, and spoke. "So, what exactly did my mother tell you that got you so interested in tracking me down?"

Rachel was thrown. She had been prepared for small talk, bringing each other up to speed on the last five years of their lives, and maybe an offer to get together again. Apparently Quinn had other plans and they would be addressing the big things right from the start. "Well, as you know, I bumped into your mother and we were chatting and she mentioned that you were in town and..." With every "and" Rachel picked up speed, heading for a full on ramble.

Quinn cut her off. "She told me that she mentioned that I apparently need friends around. There's no need to lie to my face." Quinn's voice was edged with a tinge of hostility that Rachel hadn't heard since they clashed with each other at William McKinley. It made the hairs stand up on the back of her arms.

"I'm sorry, Quinn. I found it fairly inappropriate that your mother even assumed we were still friends. I haven't talked to you in years so I really didn't feel like it was my place to push you. If something is going on in your life and if you want to talk about it I am probably the last person you would come to. I am happy to just catch up if you want, or we can just go our separate ways. But I have to say it is wonderful to see you and you look fantastic."

"It's good to know you still use fifty words when five would do," Quinn responded, but to Rachel's surprise, the words were accompanied by gentle laughter. Quinn's face shifted into a tentative smile. "You look great too, Rachel. New York has really been good for you."

Rachel smiled, genuinely. "Thanks. As you know, I have been running quite a bit lately." She intentionally kept her response short.

Quinn flipped open the Arts section and pulled out the crossword. "It's Tuesday," she said, "so even you should get some of these." They lapsed into a comfortable silence, punctuated only by occasional references to puzzle answers (Rachel: "37 across - Andrew Lloyd Webber musical - is Evita." Quinn: You would get that one.") They were waiting each other out in a battle of wills of sorts but the initial tension had dissipated. This felt familiar to Rachel, like they hadn't lost any time at all. In college, it had taken her months to trust Quinn fully, to accept that they were friends. Now, in this moment, she was pleased to find herself immediately reverting to that sense of trust.

Finally, Quinn took a deep breath and spoke. "Russell has cancer. That's why my sister is getting married now. Before...he...isn't here to see it."

Rachel contemplated her response. Thinking before she spoke wasn't her strong suit but she didn't want to mess this up. She knew Quinn wasn't likely to continue to be open with her if she said the wrong thing and she likely had only one chance to get things right. She took in the woman sitting across from her nervously shredding the edge of her newspaper and staring down at the table. "Fuck, Quinn." The blonde raised her hazel eyes to meet Rachel's brown ones. "I know you and Russell haven't been close but I can't imagine what you are going through. What can I do?"

Quinn's response was quick. "He is a bastard but it is killing my mom to lose him. I am here for her, not him. But what I really need is to not think about it. To not think about cancer, weddings, my family, anything. And, since when do you say fuck?"

"A lot has changed about me, Quinn Fabray," Rachel said with a wink. Then she caught herself. She should not EVER wink at Quinn Fucking Fabray. "So, it is way too early to get drunk, but my dads are at work all day and have a Netflix subscription so I don't know what you had planned..." She could see the hesitation written across Quinn's furrowed brow, but then the blonde quirked an eyebrow and smirked and Rachel knew she had made a convincing offer.

"You want me to come watch movies in your parent's basement all day because it it too early to drink? That's your offer? It is both exactly like and unlike the Rachel Berry I remember." If Rachel hadn't remembered Quinn's penchant for sarcasm she would have been worried but she merely smiled and waited for a decision. "Well, since I don't have any better offers..."

With that, Rachel knew she had succeeded.

"Driving or walking, Fabray?"