"Who's your favorite Disney princess?"
"Mulan."
"She's technically not a princess, but all right."
"What? She's totally a princess."
Rachel smiles indulgently at the tone of insult, and leans forward a little, stuffed animal clutched in her arms.
She is eleven years old, and it just after midnight on a school night, but it doesn't matter. Quinn is soft and heavy and sleepy in her mind, also curled up cross-legged on her own bed. She's holding her own stuffed animal, one that she says reminds her of Rachel. It's a small teddy bear, no more than seven inches tall, and it's wearing a light blue dress with a crown atop its head.
"You're going to pout, aren't you?" she asks Quinn.
"Yes, yes I am."
Rachel sticks her lower lip out and is rewarded seconds later with what she feels is a gentle squeeze on her hand. She wonders if, when they are old enough, Quinn's hand actually in hers will feel the same.
She hopes so.
"I can't stand it when you look like that, smile for me. Good," Quinn says when Rachel does, then tilts her head to the side.
"Your favorite Disney princess?"
"Aurora."
"Sleeping Beauty?"
"'I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream,'" Rachel quotes, still smiling.
"This isn't a dream."
"Sometimes it feels like it," Rachel says wistfully, but she doesn't give voice to why. A princess asleep, waiting to be given back to life by a prince.
"Favorite musical?"
"Wicked, you know that."
"I know, but I love to feel your eyes light up when you talk about it."
"Favorite book?"
"Harry Potter."
"Mom won't let m- I haven't read those."
"You will."
And on and on it goes until the light begins to peek its rays through the sky and Rachel feels guilty because she knows Quinn loves her sleep far more than Rachel does. But Quinn tells her to hush with That Look, and answers every single question Rachel continues to throw at her as they're getting dressed for school.
Favorite song, favorite magazine, favorite food. She's asked them before, countless times, but Rachel Berry is insatiable for everything she can know about Quinn Fabray.
"You should ask me my favorite princess."
"Favorite princess?" Rachel says confused as she snaps the clasps on her rolling case and gets ready to walk out the door to school. "I already asked you that."
"Yes, you asked my favorite Disney princess."
"Oh. Well... favorite princess?"
"You."
The warm feeling in Rachel's belly stays with her the rest of the day, even as she has to struggle to stay awake in math class.