Sorry about the longest wait EVER, guys. I'm finishing up my college semester and I've been slammed with work. Hope you'll all be willing to forgive me. Love you guys! I'll TRY to be speedier with the next update, promise! We'll see how it goes =)

Part Seven: . . . Will Finally Come To Be

"BECAUSE IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME!"

LATER THAT SAME DAY

Quinn began choking as she attempted to knock back her scalding cup of coffee. In a moment, her macchiato was snatched and pulled away from her blistering yet ravenous mouth.

"Whoa, girl," Santana cautioned her. "Take it easy on the caffeine, Q. I don't wants you aspirating on your java afores I know what happened!"

Leveling the Latina with her trademark Ice Queen glare, Quinn snapped, "Thanks, Santana. It's good to know you're so concerned about me– your best friend."

"Yeah yeah yeah," Santana scoffed. "So are you going to regale me with the enthralling story of the 'True Confessions of A Lovesick Hobbit', or not?"

In an attempt to refocus her thoughts, Quinn shook her head a little. "Sorry," she mumbled to Santana, glancing out the window at the rainy weather. "Well, after she told me. . ."

Rachel's eyes widened as she realized what she'd just admitted. Her hands flew to cover her mouth as she stared in horror at Quinn. Just from looking at her face, Quinn could tell Rachel was preparing herself to run like hell from this situation.

In a desperate attempt to make her stay, Quinn held up her hands in a placating manner. "Rachel . . ." she spoke slowly. The last thing she wanted to do right now what spook the tiny brunette.

"Oh my God," Rachel breathed in barely more than a whisper. Her brown eyes flickered guiltily to the blonde. "Quinn, I am so sorry. I'm sorry, Quinn."

She was about to run, Quinn could see her taking small steps back with every utterance of another apology. The blonde lunged before Rachel could get out the door. She grabbed the diva's hand and Rachel turned to look at her fearfully.

"Stop," Quinn said, surprising even herself at the firmness in her voice. She softened her face and tone. "Rachel, I have to know . . ." the blonde began. She searched Rachel's gaze imploringly. "Are you sorry because what you just said wasn't the honest-to-God truth, or because it is and you're afraid of how I might react?"

Rachel looked everywhere but at Quinn. "I . . . I. . ." Rachel struggled and then sighed in a quiet and broken tone, "I can't." She made a break for the door, but paused to whisper, "I'm sorry" one last time before disappearing.

"WHAT?!" Kurt squawked in outrage.

Rachel's face turned an even darker shade of red. Kurt couldn't tell anymore which parts of Rachel's countenance were red from crying and which were red from shame. He supposed they must have been about an equal ratio.

Kurt stood suddenly and walked around the bistro table to dump Rachel out of her chair. He blatantly ignored her screech of protest and the expressions of the on-looking patrons as he dragged her from the cafe. Kurt only stopped when they were standing on the sidewalk outside.

"Kurt!" Rachel shrieked indignantly. "What are you doing?"

"We are going to find Quinn and Santana, and then we're going to fix this!" he declared, whistling for a taxi.

"Kurt, stop!" Rachel yelled loudly, attracting even more unwanted attention to their (for once) unintentional drama. She pulled the boy's fingers away from his lips to prevent him from hailing a cab. "I messed up, okay? I can't take back what I said and now Quinn's never going to want to see me again!"

Her best friend stopped and sighed, rubbing his fingers in a horizontal pattern across his worry-creased forehead. "Rachel. Just. . ." - he sighed again - "answer me this, alright? Do you want to take back what you told Quinn?" he asked.

"Of course," Rachel answered.

He looked at her very seriously, his blue-green eyes analyzing, as if daring Rachel to lie to him. "Why?" he questioned meaningfully.

"Why?" Rachel repeated. Confusion was written all over her face, as if she heard the word but didn't understand its meaning.

"Exactly. Why do you want to take back what you said to Quinn?" Kurt clarified, though he was adamantly persistent in his question.

Standing on the sidewalk midway between W 3rd and W 4th on Mercer Street in the light rainfall, Rachel couldn't push back the feeling of helplessness that she had been battling with since finding out about Santana and Quinn's tryst. She pulled her long peacoat a little tighter and hugged herself while biting her lower lip. Tears welled unwanted in her eyes.

"Because I love her, Kurt," she admitted, her voice cracking. "More than I've ever loved anyone else. And . . . I need her in my life in a way that I never needed Finn or Brody. I can't lose her because of some stupid outburst on my part."

Kurt nodded, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets, and allowing his best friend to wrap her arm through his and lean against him as they walked together through the downpour.

Quinn sat silent, staring at Santana and willing her to be forthcoming with her words of wisdom any time now. Her heart was breaking. She could feel it cracking in her chest, shattering into millions of fragments, all those pieces falling into a heavy pile at the bottom of her stomach.

"I think . . . " Santana began at last. Her dark eyes flickered up to Quinn's, ". . . that you might just be the most clueless person on the face of the planet, Q."

"Excuse me?" Quinn demanded, eyebrow raising nearly into her hairline.

Santana sighed, leaning across the table to touch Quinn's hand. "Don't take this the wrong way, cariňa, because I say this with sisterly love and all that jazz," the Latina prevised, "but ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FREAKING MIND?!"

Several people in the cafe on Waverly Place looked at the Hispanic girl oddly, and Santana glared at them until they all eventually looked away. She turned her attention back on Quinn. "For realz, Q?" she demanded hotly. "You could have prevented Rachel's freak-out flee with five simple words."

Giving her a dubious look, the blonde pursed her lips. "Oh? And what might those 'five simple words' have been, Santana. Please, enlighten me."

Santana looked very seriously at Quinn. "There are five words you could have said that would have stopped that girl in her tiny little tracks. Q, what you should have said was, 'Rachel, I'm in love with you'."

"That's six words."

"Ugh! I wasn't counting her name, okay?!" Santana shot back. "Look, don't change the subject! She told you what you needed to hear, Quinn. So why would you not tell her what she needed to hear?"

Quinn looked out the window again, drumming her fingers on the tabletop for some time before Santana stopped her hand and looked at her expectantly. She sighed. "I just . . . had so many questions. She caught me so off-guard, San. I mean, I always knew it was a possibility that this. . . Connection? Attraction? Gravitational pull?. . . that I feel for her wasn't entirely unrequited; but to have her come right out and tell me that she's jealous of you for having sex with me? Color me stunned, Santana," Quinn explained.

"You have to tell her, Quinn," Santana told her point-blank. "It's your moment now to just come right out and say it. Actually, it's little bit past your moment, but, you know, better late than never I guess."

"So . . . what?" Quinn asked doubtfully. "I just walk up to her and say–"

"You were right."

"Quinn?" Rachel asked in amazement, watching the blonde standing in her doorway.

Which was just so wrong on so many levels. First of all, the blonde was dripping wet and looked like she'd been running. Secondly, Quinn had a key to the loft, so why was she knocking on the door? But most importantly, Quinn was there. She hadn't hopped the first train back to New Haven or gone and gotten a hotel room to stay in to avoid seeing Rachel. No, Quinn was there standing right in front of her, close enough to touch.

"It should have been you," Quinn explained, stepping into the apartment and sliding the door closed after her. Her gaze locked onto Rachel's. "It was supposed to be you."

Rachel's face still held confusion. "Quinn, what are you–?"

Quinn gently gripped Rachel's forearms in her cold, damp hands, but Rachel didn't feel any chill except that which she always felt when Quinn touched her. "I wanted it to be with you, Rachel. It was always supposed to be you." The blonde lifted her shoulders in a shrug and held her hands out to her sides as she continued, "I'm not attracted to women. Just you, Rachel. I wanted it to be your arms I was wrapped up in that night, I wanted to make love to you, because . . ." – Quinn took another cautious step forward – "because, the truth is, Rachel, I'm in love with you. I think a part of me always has been, and it's taken me this long to figure it out." She studied Rachel's face for any sign of a reaction. "I want to be with you, Rachel. Not . . . just . . . in a sexual way, but in every way possible." Now she was begging, desperately hoping against hope. "Please say you want to be with me too."

Rachel stared at Quinn for several long moments, completely still and, for maybe the first time since Quinn had known her, completely silent as well. "I'm scared," Rachel whispered finally.

"Of me?" Quinn asked softly. Fearfully.

Rachel reached forward and gripped Quinn's cold hands in her own, and this time she felt the iciness that was radiating off of Quinn in waves. Her brown eyes shot up to Quinn's face. "Quinn, you're freezing," she said in a suddenly shocked and worried tone. Her hand rose to Quinn's cheek. "Oh my God. We need to get you warmed up. You need– you need dry clothes and a blanket and I'll turn the thermostat up and–"

"Rachel," Quinn interjected firmly, taking Rachel's shoulders to stop her before she could run off again. "I'm fine. That's not what's important right now."

"Of course it is," Rachel argued, bringing her hand to Quinn's cheek once again. "You are what is most important to me, Quinn. Always. You always have been." She looked at Quinn as if she had suddenly realized something. "Do you still not understand what you mean to me?"

"But if I mean so much, then why are you scared of me?" Quinn asked persistently. The brunette looked away. "Rach, it's just me."

Rachel looked like she was trapped, like she was scared and helpless and looking for a way out of this conversation, and that wasn't how Quinn wanted her to feel when they talked about this. She was still damp and freezing, but she needed some way to bring back the easy comfort between them. Quinn wanted Rachel to talk about this with her because the brunette wanted to talk about it, not because she felt cornered.

"I'm going to hug you now," Quinn said carefully, looking into Rachel's eyes for any sign of resistance, but there wasn't any; instead, Rachel eagerly stepped forward into Quinn's arms and pulled the blonde close. "We don't have to talk about this right now, if you don't want to," Quinn told her, kissing the top of her head and pulling her even closer.

"I want to talk," Rachel said after a few moments. "I just don't know where to begin."

Quinn hummed from somewhere deep in her throat. "Just talk to me, Rach, just like you always do."

"Even if I start rambling and it doesn't make any sense?" Rachel questioned shyly.

The blonde laughed and held Rachel to her as she eased them onto the sofa. "I don't know if you've noticed this, Rach, but I'm actually pretty good at making sense of Rachel-rambles," Quinn mentioned in a reassuring yet offhanded way. Her green eyes met Rachel's brown ones, and she tucked a strand of hair behind one of the brunette's ears. "Try me."

"I'm scared for a lot of reasons," Rachel explained carefully, her attention never leaving Quinn's face. "I'm scared that you might be mistaken regarding your feelings for me. I'm scared that you'll come to your senses and never want to see or speak to me ever again. I'm scared that you'll change your mind and decide that this isn't what you want– that I'm not what you want– the way that Finn did. I'm scared of getting my heartbroken again and not having you here to help me put it back together, because you're the one who's broken it." Rachel suddenly realized that she had been clutching Quinn's shirt in a death-grip, but she couldn't bring herself to release her hold any more than she could bring herself to look away from Quinn's stare. "But most of all, I'm scared of losing our friendship, because I need you in my life so badly, Quinn."

Quinn was quiet for a moment, giving Rachel a grace-period to add in anything else, before finally asking, "Is that everything?" When the brunette gave an affirmative nod, Quinn decided to continue, "Rachel, you are . . . my very best friend. You mean everything to me, and however true it may be that I'm just now beginning to fully understand what that means, make no mistake, I'm in no way confused about my feelings for you, Rachel. I'm not questioning, I'm not second-guessing, and I'm not mistaken. I love you, Rachel." Quinn looked to her meaningfully, her eyes shining with sincerity and begging Rachel to see how genuinely deep her feelings ran.

"There are a lot of things in my life that I'm not certain of right now, but I am absolutely, one-hundred-percent, beyond-a-shadow-of-a-doubt sure that I'm in love with you. I want you, Rachel, and the thought of not seeing your face or hearing you speak to me ever again is unfathomable. You're just so much a part of my life now, so much a part of me." Tears sprung to Quinn's eyes but, for the first time that she could remember, she didn't try to push them back or hide them. For the first time, she simply let them fall, as she begged the girl she loved to believe her. "I could never, ever cut you out of my life, and I really hope you won't cut me out of yours."

Quinn entwined her fingers with Rachel's, holding their hands between the two of them, and leaning her forehead against Rachel's. "I can't promise that I'll never break your heart, Rach, but I can promise you that I will never leave you. I will always be here to help you put the pieces back together, because you are my friend above all else and I need you too. You're my everything, Rachel. Nothing will ever change that."

Rachel pulled Quinn against her again and just rested her chin on the blonde's shoulder. She wanted comfort in this moment. Hearing the extent of how Quinn felt about her and the blonde's assuredness she had about those feelings, all she wanted was to hold Quinn and not let go.

"Quinn?" she called after a moment, pulling back far enough to be able to look at Quinn.

"Hmm?"

Ducking her head in sudden shyness before finally raising her eyes determinedly, Rachel held Quinn's head in her hands and looked into hazel eyes. "I . . . I love you," she whispered, her voice cracking ever so slightly.

As soon as the words left her mouth, Rachel knew instinctually that they were the absolute, undeniable truth. It gave her the confidence to continue. "I love you and I want nothing more than to be with you. I-I don't really know what else to say, but . . . you mean everything to me as well. You always have. I didn't even realize it until recently, but . . ." – Rachel bit her lip bashfully – "don't . . . don't you think that our entire worlds have, in a way, revolved around one another for a long time now? I mean, we've sort of always gone out of our ways to interact with one another, whether in a positive or negative way, and I think that might be how all of this started. With a connection, a . . . an unorthodox fixation with one another, if you will."

"Rachel," Quinn broke in, her face smiling and happy given Rachel's confession and her adorable rambling. She couldn't help but let out a laugh at the way Rachel's eyes widened when she realized how much she'd been talking.

"I'm sorry," Rachel said. "I didn't mean to go off on a monologue."

A smile quirked at the corners of Quinn's mouth. "It's okay. I actually kind of love when you do that. It's sort of adorable," the blonde confessed, causing a bright blush to rise to Rachel's cheeks. Quinn looked at her softly, "In fact, you're making it very difficult for me to not kiss you right now."

Rachel's head perked up and a coy look played about her facial features. "Have you thought that maybe I want you to kiss me?" she asked.

"Do you?" Quinn felt her heart beat a little harder in her chest.

The brunette rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Quinn, I've already admitted to wanting to be sexually intimate with you, and you're asking if I want you to kiss me? Doesn't the latter typically lead to the former?"

"Well, when you put it like that . . ." Quinn said, smiling in a way that was both devilish and nervous.

A few moments passed with neither of them moving nor speaking.

"Quinn?" Rachel finally broke the silence. Quinn's gaze sparked acknowledgment, so Rachel continued, "This is the part where you lean in and kiss me."

Quinn smiled at her own nervousness. This was Rachel, her Rachel, and she was asking Quinn to kiss her, something that Quinn had been waiting to do for awhile now. She had kissed people before, had even been the one to initiate it, but maybe that was just it; she was actually, genuinely in love with Rachel. Rachel counted more than any of her former relationships ever had, way more, and she didn't want to screw it all up like she had done a million other times.

"Hey," Rachel said, bringing her hand to Quinn's cheek, "this is just you and me, remember?"

"You're sure this is what you want?" Quinn asked carefully.

Rachel's other hand came up the rest on Quinn's other cheek as she looked in Quinn's eyes with all the sincerity in the world. "Yes," she answered, and that was enough for Quinn.

In that moment, her need to kiss Rachel increased ten-fold, and then there was nothing but Rachel and herself; there were no problems, no obstacles, no what-ifs, no fears, there was only them and this amazing moment that had been intensifying for entirely too long.

Then there was the moment that Quinn's lips met Rachel's, and the entire world stopped and faded out entirely. The blonde's lips moved smoothly over the other girl's, like they knew instinctually how and when the other was going to move. They moved simultaneously and in perfect sync. Quinn was gentle, but insistent at the same time, trying to make it absolutely apparent how she felt about Rachel without using her words. Rachel's hands moved to thread themselves in Quinn's hair and Quinn wrapped her arms tighter around Rachel's waist, if only to anchor herself.

Their worlds exploded simultaneously, and suddenly this gentle kiss wasn't enough anymore. Rachel's tongue ran a wet line across Quinn's lips, and Quinn whimpered softly as she allowed entrance. Her hands roamed Rachel's body, exploring and testing the boundaries of this newfound thing between them, but there didn't seem to be any because Rachel never protested as Quinn ran her hand from the girl's waist, down over her hip, and grabbed the back of the brunette's thigh. Their tongues battled for dominance, but Quinn gave in easily; she was more concerned with finally getting to kiss Rachel and the intense warmth and swelling sensation in her chest. Her lips brushed against Rachel's and she knew that they would probably be swollen afterwards, but Rachel didn't seem to care about that either.

Oxygen became a problem. Actually, it had been a problem for Quinn for quite some time, but she hadn't wanted to stop kissing Rachel, and Rachel's lung capacity was much more withstanding than her own. Quinn silently thanked God for all of Rachel's vocal training.

Rachel sucked in an audible breath. "Oh. Oh wow," she breathed carefully. Her eyes locked onto Quinn's. "You, Quinn Fabray, are a truly remarkable kisser."

Quinn smiled softly, and placed a soft kiss on Rachel's jawline. "You take my breath away, Rachel," she whispered, causing Rachel to shiver slightly. "You're the best kiss I've ever had."

Looking down and fidgeting with her fingers, Rachel asked self-consciously, "Even . . . even better than Santana?" Her brown gaze shot to Quinn's face for a reaction.

Quinn held Rachel's face in her hands and looked into her eyes meaningfully. "Much better than Santana," she told her without question. "You mean something to me, Rachel; you mean everything to me. It never meant anything with Santana, but it means everything in the world with you because I love you." Quinn shifted to sit up straighter, but her hands grabbed hold of Rachel's. "Which brings me to my next question," the blonde announced, smile on her face. "Rachel Berry, would you like to go out on a date, or-or possibly several, and maybe even be with me? Like, um, officially."

Rachel grinned wickedly, obviously amused with Quinn's awkwardness. "Quinn Fabray, are you asking me to be in an exclusive and committed relationship with you?" At this, Quinn blushed furiously, and it was the cutest thing Rachel had ever witnessed. She leaned forward and kissed Quinn's lips. "I would love to go on as many dates with you as you want, and as for 'being' with you," Rachel answered with a smirk, "there's no one else I'd rather be with."

This time, it was Quinn's turn to be insecure. The blonde bit her lower lip and her eyes became shifty, looking everywhere except for right at Rachel. "Even" – she cleared her throat – "even . . . Finn?"

The brunette's eyes softened and became earnest. "Quinn . . . it's you, and I'm starting to understand that on some level it's always been you, because everything in my life for the past four years has revolved around you," Rachel explained. "So, to answer your question directly, yes. I would rather be with you than anyone else, including Finn.

"I'm in love with you, Quinn."