Author's Note: This chapter is for Lu, my kitty that passed away this year. You were the best cat ever. The story that Leroy and Hiram tell is almost word for word how his name came about, too.

"Rach-el," she heard being sing-songed to her across some wide expanse between asleep and awake that she clearly couldn't bridge. Not this early. Something inside told her that it was still dark, that it was still far, far too early, and that she could still sleep for… well, forever, really, and whoever was trying to wake her was just some Quinn-shaped figment of her subconscious and besides, pillows weren't allowed to talk and also… snore.

"Rachel, it's Christmas morning," the voice called out again a minute later and Rachel knew she needed to do something about it. "You need to get- unf!" The last sound was of her pillow being pulled by the arm and somehow dragged down under her so she could rest atop her Quinn's-breasts-shaped pillow as it was clearly meant to be. Maybe she had superpowers this early in the morning? That would make it a lot easier to fight the vampires that were… snore.

"Rachel," her pillow said again as laughter shook her. "You really shouldn't be on top of my-" but a quick nuzzle to her pillow caused it to gasp and quickly close its mouth. Good. Well-behaved pillows weren't supposed to talk, anyway.

"Stop being a… bad pillow," Rachel said, as she readjusted and pressed her face further into Quinn's breasts. "The vampires will get you if you're not quiet, so shhhh…" And with the "shhhh" she added what was supposed to be a delicate finger to her pillow's lips but was more like a lazy hand dropping onto Quinn's face.

Her hand was moved away. "Rachel." Again with the talking? This time more serious, though. Why couldn't her pillow just "shhhh" like she'd told it to? She'd stayed up until two in the morning watching the entire first season of Buffy and it was too early to worry whether or not the Master would try to kill her pillow or whether Finn would ask her to the dance instead of asking Buffy or… snore. "Rachel, really. Your face is in places. Bad places."

"No," Rachel said, again burrowing, pressing her face closer and readjusting to the wonderful softness. "Good places. Happy places. Sleepy places." There. That well thought out logic should convince her. Stupid pillow. Also… snore.

"Rachel, if you don't get off of me right now," Quinn said, "I'm keeping your presents."

"Presents?" Rachel asked, raising up suddenly and blinking, looking around her room. The lamp beside her bed was on but not the overhead light, and… somehow… Quinn was lying beside her. "Quinn? Are you… are you really here? I had a dream that you were… a vampire slayer… but also my… pillow? That doesn't make any sense." Rachel rubbed her eyes a couple of times and stared down at Quinn who was blushing profusely. "And did you say something about presents?"

"I thought that would get your attention," Quinn said, rising up beside the bleary-eyed diva. Rachel looked over to her clock and saw that it was 5:47. AM. As Rachel stared at the clock, trying to wrap her brain around the fact that it was so early and she was up on a day where she literally had nothing planned besides more Buffy watching, Quinn started apologizing. "Sorry it's so early. When I was little, Frannie and I would always be up by six in the morning. I was excited about getting everything set up, so I must have finished a little early." She was quiet for a moment before uttering another, "Sorry."

"Quinn, did you…" Rachel stopped. It seemed stupid, but… "Did you just break into my house?"

Quinn reddened, looking down at her lap. "Uh, Santa Claus left it open for me?" Rachel continued to stare at her until she finally looked up. "I just thought it would ruin the surprise if I had to call you to let me in."

"So you broke in?"

"Yeah, it's a thing I do," Quinn said. "Sorry. Again."

Rachel sat there, unsure what to make of this new Quinn-centric information (Quinnformation! her sleepy brain said with some measure of glee, and she knew she'd be keeping that word around for a long time). Finally she said, "I'm going to forget about this because you said you have presents for me, but I wouldn't tell my dads if I were you." With the she shuffled off of the bed and headed towards the bathroom, saying, "I know I'm not allowed to close the door, so will you at least pretend that you can't hear me peeing out here."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Quinn said, turning away from the door to the bathroom to give Rachel some modicum of privacy.

In the past week (Today's a week, she thought. Tonight will be an entire week.), Rachel had figured out a system for washing her hands… well, hand. She didn't use her left hand for anything and used hand sanitizer to clean her fingers poking out of the brace multiple times per day. Being right-handed, Rachel had never thought about how much she actually used her left hand. She supposed it was just one of those things people generally took for granted. Her right hand, though, she'd figured out how to wash one-handed. Using hand-pump soap and the stopper of the sink, Rachel had figured out a way to kind of slosh her hand around while the sink filled up, then rinsing as the sink emptied. Call it small or stupid or whatever, but she was proud of that. Rachel had always been proud of her self-sufficiency.

Out of the bathroom, Rachel noticed Quinn was standing at the door between her room and the hallway. Once Quinn had seen she was done, she reached over and grabbed Rachel's hand, leading her out, down, and into the living room.

Taking it in, Rachel wasn't sure what she was seeing at first. Quinn had cleared off the end table from beside the couch, leaving the picture frame and lamp that had been sitting on it in the recliner. She had then set the end table beside the fireplace, which she had lit. On top of that, she had placed a small plastic tree replete with colored lights, small ornaments, and even a big gold star. On the floor in front of the coffee table in multicolored wrapping papers were a bunch of presents, all with loopy satiny bows.

"It's so beautiful, Quinn," Rachel said. She looked over to Quinn whose eyes were shining in the firelight, looking only at her. "I wish I had my phone with me so I could take some pictures."

Quinn held hers up and shook it. "I took a bunch while I was setting everything up," Quinn said, "as well as when mom and I were wrapping presents last night. I had a feeling you might be interested."

Rachel turned to Quinn and grabbed her, wrapping her arms around her neck and pulling her in close. "This is the best- it's so pretty- I can't believe you-" She finally stopped, ending up on a simple, heartfelt, "Thank you, Quinn."

"Merry Christmas, Rachel," Quinn said, arms around her waist and holding her just as tightly.

"Merry Christmas, Qui-" Rachel noticed movement out of the corner of her eye. "Um.. Quinn? Did that box just move?"

Quinn pulled back, unable to contain her smile. "Psshh, no," she said, though she was a little quicker about everything after that. Forcing Rachel to sit down, she handed a box to her. "Here, open this one first so you don't forget about it while you're opening the others."

Ripping off the wrapping paper and opening the box, Rachel pulled out a leather bound book. Opening it to the first page, she saw Quinn had written an inscription to her:

'Rachel. Life is difficult, and it's hard to make sense of everything sometimes. I hope this journal will help.'

Below that, in beautiful flowing script, Quinn had written a quote:

'Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying "I will try again tomorrow".' -Mary Anne Radmacher

"Quinn, I don't…" Rachel started, but there just weren't words enough so she threw her arms around the blonde again and hugged her again for all she was worth, issuing forth another, "Thank you." She was enjoying the hug when suddenly, from another box came a tiny, pathetic 'mew'. Rachel pulled back to look at a sheepishly smiling Quinn. "Okay, that box that didn't move last time, I'm pretty sure it just meowed."

"Next present," Quinn said quickly, taking the box that had now moved and meowed and setting it gently in Rachel's lap. It wasn't wrapped like the other ones, but instead had holes punched all in the sides and had a hug floppy bow on top.

Hesitantly lifting the lid, Rachel looked down and locked eyes with the most adorable kitten she had ever seen. It was mostly black with white on its face, its feet and its stomach. It was also shivering, clearly scared, and Rachel followed her instincts to take it out of the box and hold it to her long-sleeved pajama top, cradling and comforting the little thing.

"It's a girl," Quinn said, coming to sit beside her. "Brittany called it a tuxedo cat, because of the black and white, but I think it looks more like some kind of cat-panda. I've been calling her 'Canda'." Quinn reached out and scratched the kitten on the top of the head between its ears, and she looked up at her. "She likes that," she added, before going back to what she was originally saying. "Anyway, I came up with a better name for her."

Rachel was still kind of shocked, but she eventually found her voice and asked, "Don't I get to name her?"

"No," Quinn said playfully. "Because I already named her. You can't change her name now, or she'll get confused. You don't want her growing up with identity issues, do you?" This caused Rachel to giggle, because, no, she really didn't. Everyone should know who they are. "So I picked a name for her." And Rachel looked up at Quinn, because her voice had gone serious again. "I named her Babs."

Rachel looked down at the kitten who was looking up between the two of them, and she tried to tell if the kitten liked the name or not, but, really, it was a cat. She could have named it 'Bobo, the three-headed mongoose'. She did look significantly happier after being out of the box, though, so maybe that was something. "Babs is short for Barbra," Rachel said finally.

"I know," Quinn said, voice still thoughtful, or maybe it was reverential. Rachel couldn't tell. She just knew that this was important to Quinn, so she made sure to listen. "I wanted her to be a part of you, so I gave her your name. Kind of." Quinn paused for a moment, again rubbing the kitten between the ears. "Now this kitten, she's still a baby. She doesn't have a mother anymore, so you have to be her mother now. She's relying on you. For everything. That means…" Quinn paused, clearing her throat, suddenly having trouble speaking, "that means you can't leave her alone in the world. You have to… you have to stay here. For her."

Rachel looked stricken. "Quinn, I can't- I can't promise that," she said, suddenly trying to stuff the kitten into Quinn's hands.

Quinn only stood from the couch, backing away. "Look at her, Rachel," Quinn said, and Rachel did, staring down at the little kitten that was now kneading its tiny little claws into her pajama pants. It was maybe the cutest slightly painful thing she'd ever seen. "I'll take her back if you want, and maybe they can find a home for her. Maybe. But you care about animals. You know how many pets are out there, how many are unwanted. Especially this time of year. You know what happens to them."

"Quinn," Rachel said, whining out her name. She was literally pained at the thought of little Babs being put down. "I can't… I can't do that to her, but…" She trailed off.

Rachel had liked the idea of suicide, keeping it open as an option. It made everything easier to deal with. Now Quinn was forcibly taking that option away, and Rachel couldn't even hate her for it because, really, just look at those little whiskers. Those tiny little paws. That weird little half a mustache marking above her lip. Rachel had never believed in love at first sight until this morning. Now… "I hate you, Fabray," Rachel said, though there was no malice in it. She couldn't even find it in herself to be angry when she was looking down at that little face.

"I know," Quinn said, joining her again on the couch. She leaned over and bumped her shoulder against Rachel's. "I hate me, too, sometimes. But Babs isn't the only one that needs you to stick around."

Rachel blushed. "Needs?"

"Did I say need?" Quinn asked, blushing too. "I think I meant tolerate."

After the first two amazing presents, Rachel had been less than excited about the rest, though she tried not to let it show. She just hated getting useful presents, even if they were necessary. There was a cat carrier, a litter box, food and water bowls, a few cans of kitten food, a brush, and a few toys. It was like a new kitten starter set. She told Rachel she'd thought about getting catnip also, but Brittany had told her, "Cats don't need drugs to have fun, Quinn." Rachel agreed. Catnip had always looked a little too much like marijuana for her tastes.

Eventually, Rachel's dads had made their way downstairs, probably prompted from the amount of laughter coming from Rachel and Quinn. They had been sitting a few feet apart, facing each other and rolling one of the cat toys between them while Babs jumped and chased after it. The toy was too big for her, though, so she was still kind of afraid of it and would scamper back to Rachel or Quinn whenever it actually touched her.

"Quinn?" Leroy asked, coming down the stairs and spotting the girls in front of the couch. "When did you get here?"

"About an hour ago," Quinn lied, taking Rachel's advice. Not that she wanted her lying to her fathers, but Rachel wasn't sure how they'd feel about Quinn being able to basically break in whenever she wanted to. Rachel still wasn't sure how she felt about it.

"And who is that?" Leroy asked, bending down to pet the kitten in Rachel's hands. The kitten batted playfully at his fingers, and he smiled down at it.

"This is Babs, Daddy," Rachel said, holding her up as if she were Rafiki and Babs was little Simba. "Babs, this is Daddy."

"Very nice to meet you, Babs," Leroy said, chuckling. "She sort of looks like the cat your Dad and I had when we first got married."

Rachel looked up, cradling the kitten back to her chest. "I didn't know you had a cat."

"We did," Leroy said. Quinn looked over and saw Hiram coming down the stairs. "Little guy named Lu. It was short for Lubert."

"Like on iCarly?" Rachel asked. When everyone looked at her with confusion, she blushed and said, "Kid's show. Never mind. That's kind of an ugly name, though. Why'd you pick it?"

Hiram spoke up this time, joining them by the couch. Smiling, he said, "We actually named him Lucy to begin with. Mr. 'I don't want to get in our cat's personal business' here named him before ever seeing if he was a boy or a girl. After I checked and found out he was a boy, we shortened it to Lu."

Leroy picked the story back up. "Until he started getting into trouble. Then we lengthened it to Lubert so we would have something longer to yell at him. Lu just isn't a name suitable for yelling."

They both reached down to pet the kitten in Rachel's hands at the same time. The men's hands brushed against each other, and they both pulled back but shared smiles.

"Quinn, are you staying for breakfast?" Hiram asked as he and Leroy made their way towards the kitchen. "You're welcome if you want."

"I…" Quinn started, looking to Rachel. If it was up to Rachel, she'd have Quinn there all day, every day. Quinn just kept surprising her in the best possible ways. Being open with her, letting her be her friend, joining the 'Unholy Trinity', and now Babs. It was Christmas, though, and she knew Quinn probably wanted to be with her family. At least her mom, anyway.

"You don't have to," Rachel said, squeezing Babs into a cuddle. She tried not to be sad that Quinn would be leaving so soon after getting there, but it was no use. It was like the way someone would tell her not to think about something, anything really… purple giraffes, and then her mind couldn't get away from thinking about purple giraffes. Trying not to be sad Quinn was leaving was like not thinking about purple giraffes. It was impossible.

"I would actually love to, if that's okay." Rachel's head shot up to look at Quinn. She was confused, but really happy. What about her family? Wasn't there more important places she should be? "I already told my mom I'd be over here for a while this morning. She was just happy to be able to get to sleep in. And Rachel's already told me about your famous Mickey Mouse head pancakes…"

Rachel blushed at the memory. It was the second day she was in the hospital. She'd been crying, worrying she was crazy, and Quinn had distracted her, asking her questions. She'd asked her what her favorite meal was, and Rachel had said breakfast and told her about her dad's pancakes. It was also when she'd said that she preferred cats to dogs. Why that sneaky, little…

"You asked me," Rachel said finally. Hiram and Leroy had already gone ahead towards the kitchen to get started on breakfast, leaving the girls to play with Babs. "You asked me if I like cats or dogs better, and I said cats." Quinn nodded. "And if I'd said dogs…?"

"You'd probably be sitting here with a puppy named Babs instead," Quinn said.

Setting Babs down, Rachel got onto her knees and knee-walked the couple of feet over to Quinn, falling down on top of her as she threw her arms around her neck and hugged her. "Thank you," Rachel said. "This is the best Christmas ever."

"You're Jewish," Quinn said, pulling her in tighter. "Isn't it your first Christmas?"

"Details."

They ended up watching a couple of episodes of Buffy in Rachel's bed after breakfast, Babs wandering around the blanket between them. For the first time, Rachel found herself thankful that her dads had to suicide-proof her room because it was surprisingly like cat-proofing it. Now there were no sharp objects or chemicals that Babs might accidentally hurt herself with.

They set up the litter box in Rachel's bathroom and her food and water bowls next to her dresser. It was decided that, for a little while, Babs would be confined to the upstairs. They were worried that she might hurt herself going down the steps, or, sicne she was so little, not be able to get back up them once down there. Hiram and Leroy had even gone down to the basement and taken the old baby gate from Rachel's shrine of memorabilia to block the stairs. She asked them once why they kept so much stuff, and their answer was always "Because when you're famous, we can sell it on EBay and retire to the Bahamas."

After a while, Rachel had fallen asleep, again snuggling into Quinn in probably inappropriate ways. She couldn't help it. Quinn was quickly becoming her favorite pillow. And Quinn couldn't have cared too much, because when Rachel woke up a few hours later- she glanced at the clock from where she lay, and, okay, it was more than a few- she was wrapped from behind in soft pale arms. On the television, an episode that they had already watched was on, so she figured Quinn must have been rewatching it so as to give her something to do but not spoil anything in case Rachel woke up.

"Sorry," Rachel said, putting her hands over the hands that were holding her around the middle and pressing her body back slightly, feeling Quinn's warmth. "I must have fallen asleep."

"It's okay," Brittany said. "I haven't seen this episode in a while."

Rachel rolled over and away from Brittany, eyes wide with shock. "Brittany?" she asked dumbly, because, yes, of course it was the taller blonde Cheerio with the giant smile. "Why are you here? Where's Quinn?"

"Q had to leave," Brittany said. "Family stuff, I think. I wanted to come over and see your kitten so I asked her if I could. You looked so cute sleeping that I thought I'd join you." Worry lines formed on her forehead. "You're not mad, are you?"

Rachel wanted to be mad, but she realized most of that came not from Brittany spooning her but from finding that it wasn't Quinn. "No, I'm not mad," Rachel said finally. "Just… surprised."

"Because you thought I was Quinn," Brittany said, again smiling. "You like her."

"Of course I like her," Rachel said. "She's my friend."

"Yeah, but you like her like her. Like me and Santana," Brittany said, almost singing it out she was so happy. "She's your complicated."

It took Rachel a minute to remember the talk from the couple of days before. "What? No, it's not like- I mean, I'm not even- and Quinn has Sam, and-"

"It's okay, Rach," Brittany said. "I won't tell."

Rachel stared at the tall blonde for a long minute before she sighed. "Thank you, Brittany."

"No problem," Brittany said. "You're my BFF. That's what we do. But now you have to introduce me to Babs."

Rachel looked over to the corner of the bed where the kitten was sleeping and had been the entire time. "She's right there, Brittany."

"Yeah, but I haven't played with her or anything yet," Brittany said. "I thought it would be rude. And besides, you're not supposed to talk to strangers, so until you introduce me to her, I'm a stranger."

"That's…" Rachel started to say weird or… something, but it did make a strange kind of sense. Instead of finishing her sentence, she reached out and picked Babs up who mewed at being woken. She held her out to Brittany, again Rafiki style, and said, "Brittany, this is Babs. Babs, this is Brittany. She's my best friend."

Babs mewed again, and Brittany took her, instantly folding her in and cradling her in a way Rachel hadn't. "This is how you hold her," Brittany said. "You shouldn't Lion King her because it's bad for their spines as they get older. Also, because she's a girl, and that might gender confuse her."

"But…" Rachel liked 'Lion King'ing Babs. It was fun to show her off. And… "Wait. Wasn't the lion a girl at the end of the movie?"

"I don't think so," Brittany said. "It was called the Lion King. That'd really be more of a lion princess."

Rachel shook her head. "No, I'm sure that in the second one, she-"

"There's a second one?" Brittany interrupted, suddenly excited. "How come no one told me?"

Rachel shrugged, confused. "I don't think I'm qualified to answer that." Seeing the look on Brittany's face, though, she added, "We have it if you'd like to watch it."

"Oh, oh! Can we?" Brittany asked, sitting up on her knees and waving Babs around. "No, wait, oh, I forgot. Presents first." She put Babs back in Rachel's arms, Rachel now mimicking what Brittany had been doing and holding her the proper way.

Brittany, after looking and seeing that Rachel was holding Babs correctly, hopped off of the bed and rushed over to her desk. She picked up a box that was wrapped in My Little Pony wrapping paper and hurried back over to the bed, dropping down beside Rachel.

"I got you the My Little Pony wrapping paper because you're a girl," Brittany said. "The boys got SpongeBob. Also, because you're kind of like a pony."

Rachel huffed. "I'm not like a pony. That's not very nice, Brittany."

"No, it totally is. You're pretty just like a pony, and you have a really pretty mane," Brittany said, explaining to her like she was a child. She reached out and ran a hand through Rachel's hair. "You're small. I know you like apples because you bring apple slices every day at lunch. And when you get mad, you stomp like a pony. You're totes my little pony, Rach."

Rachel huffed again, because, yet again, Brittany was making an odd amount of sense, even if she didn't like being compared to an animal. When Brittany explained it, though, it didn't seem that bad. Brittany just had such an odd way of looking at the world. Plus, she called her pretty. "I guess…" Rachel said reluctantly.

"Don't be upset," Brittany said. "Santana calls me her little ducky." She then covered her mouth. Rachel stared, and when the taller girl finally removed her hands, she said, "I think that was one of those things I wasn't supposed to tell people."

"It's okay," Rachel said, copying what Brittany had said earlier. "I won't tell anyone. We're best friends now, right? That's what we do."

At that, Brittany threw out her arms and pulled Rachel and Babs into a hug, squeezing the kitten between them. "I knew I was right," Brittany said. "I just knew you'd be the best best friend a best friend could have." After a long moment of hugging, Brittany finally let Rachel go and picked the box back up. "Here."

Rachel set Babs down on the comforter between her and Brittany and picked up the box. She shook it once, listening at the side like she'd be able to hear what her present was. This caused Brittany to laugh at her, which caused Rachel to laugh at herself. Moving the box back in front of her, she started peeling away the bow and wrapping paper. The wrapping job wasn't nearly as fancy looking as Quinn's had been, and there was entirely too much tape used, but, looking between the box and Brittany's eager face, Rachel could tell it was done from the heart.

Looking down at the now unwrapped box, it was clearly a shoe box, but used. Lifting off the lid, Rachel looked in and found dozens, maybe hundreds of bracelets. There were the rubber ones like Lance Armstrong and Stephen Colbert wore for their different charities and organizations. There were stretchy rubber band like bracelets. There were metal and hard plastic bangles. There were even some hand-woven cloth ones. She had no idea what to make of it and looked up at Brittany for some type of explanation. It was clear the blonde was excited about the present. Rachel just didn't understand why.

"They're bracelets," Brittany said, stating the obvious. "When I was with Quinn picking out Babs, I bought you some, but then when I got home yesterday morning and started to wrap them, I realized it wasn't special enough. You're my best friend, so I had to do something even specialer. So I went over to San's house and took all the bracelets she had, then I went over to Quinn's and took all hers. Then I went to visit Mercedes and Tina and told them what I was doing, and they gave me some of theirs, too. I went to Kurt's house, too, but Mr. Burt said he wasn't home. He was out with his Warbler friend. Anyway, then I went back home, and I asked mom and Ashley for all theirs, too. So, yeah, that's how I got all of them."

Brittany was silent for a minute, proud of her explanation, but Rachel still didn't understand. She didn't want to seem ungrateful, though. Especially since she had put so much time and effort into getting her such an assortment. "Um… thanks, Brittany. That's really… nice."

"I thought so, too," Brittany said. "Now you don't have to wear baggy clothes all the time."

More confusion. "Baggy clothes?"

Brittany reached out tenderly and grasped Rachel's good hand, pulling it closer to her body. Gently, as if she might hurt Rachel, she lifted up the long shirt sleeve, revealing the ugly, jagged wound from almost exactly a week ago. "I know you've been hiding your scar under your baggy clothes," Brittany said, voice soft. "The cute pink hoodie, the long-sleeved pajamas, the long-sleeved dress you wore after you got out of the shower yesterday. I guessed you were, I don't know… embarrassed, maybe? I could tell you didn't want anyone to see what you did. But… people already know what you did. Like the women in the mall. And I think they're going to stare anyway because sometimes people forget they're supposed to be nice. So I thought we could decorate your arm instead. If people are going to look, then we could give them something to look at. Here."

Brittany let go of Rachel's hand and picked the box up, sifting and sorting through until she found the one she wanted. "I made this for Lord Tubbington at camp a few years ago. That was when he was still 'Sir' Tubbington, before he was promoted up. I thought it would make a nice friendship collar for him, but he wouldn't wear it. I think he didn't like the color." Rachel looked at it, the tears already collecting in her eyes. It was pink and purple, with a bright yellow stripe zigzagging down the middle. "But I like it, and I said to myself that I would give it to my best friend someday. Except then I forgot about it and never gave it to Santana. Now I realized that's because she was never meant to be my bestie. You were, Rachel. So this is for you." And with that, she reached out, steadying Rachel's wrist, and tied it loosely over her lacerations. She then bent her head down and kissed the spot right above it, careful not to touch the actual place with her lips.

Rachel couldn't hold it back anymore. She took her hand from Brittany and turned slightly away from her, head bowed in her hands as the tears came down. She didn't deserve anyone being this nice to her. Not Brittany or Quinn or even Santana. And Mercedes and Tina? She thought they didn't like her, that they were just visiting her out of guilt or morbid curiosity or something. It didn't make any sense. None of it made any sense. Before she could get lost in her own anxiety, though, Brittany was wrapping her arms around the smaller diva and pulling her in close.

"Don't' cry, Rachel," Brittany said, shushing her. "It's Christmas, and you're not supposed to cry on Christmas. And I know you don't know that rule because you're Jewish like Puck and the rabbits-"

"Rabbis," Rachel corrected with a wet chuckle.

"Right," Brittany said. "But even though, it still applies to you. So no more tears."

And Rachel did start feeling marginally better. She pulled back from Brittany, wiping away at her eyes with the sleeve of her long shirt. "You're right, you're right, I'm sorry," Rachel said, a few traitorous tears still leaking out. "I'm just… this is such a… first Babs, and now this. You and Quinn, and Santana with the clothes. I've never had friends before. None that actually cared about me, anyway. This is such an amazing day, Brittany. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Rach," Brittany said, giving her another long squeezing hug. Finally pulling back, she added, "Now about this Lion King 2…?"

Sometime after Rachel had fallen asleep with her head inappropriately placed on her chest, Quinn had gotten a text from Brittany asking if she could come over yet and see Rachel's new kitten. Brittany had been so excited when they had picked it out that she couldn't possibly say no, so she agreed. It would be nice to hand Rachel off to someone else so she could go. She didn't want to leave Rachel, but it was Christmas and she still hadn't even seen her mom yet. Nor had she been by Sam's to give him his present, though that was a trip she wasn't looking forward to as much. And besides, she knew that there were no better hands to leave Rachel in than Brittany's.

Once Brittany had made her way upstairs, and God, she wished she could have seen the first impression on the Misters Berry by Brittany. That's a conversation she would have paid to have seen. Once Brittany was upstairs, though, Quinn smacked her lightly on the arm and whispered, "Tag. You're it."

"Yay!" Brittany whisper-yelled and clapped her hands quietly. She watched as the taller blonde's eyes went straight over to the bed where Rachel lay curled on her side. Over on the corner of the bed, Babs was watching the two blondes with curiosity and a little… aggravation? Was it possible for a kitten that small to be upset they'd woken it up? She'd have to ask Britts that one later.

Making her way downstairs, Quinn said her goodbyes to Leroy and Hiram, then found herself in her car and driving over towards Sam's house. She had her iPod plugged in and was listening to her Christmas playlist. The car went silent for a moment as the last song finished, then through the speakers she heard Rachel's voice.

"Where are you Christmas?
Why can't I find you?
Why have you gone away?"

It was the very same song she'd been listening to a week ago as she'd been getting ready to go to some stupid party of Puck's instead of to Rachel's. A week. Not even that, since it was still early. It was still almost seven hours until it would be a week since. And look at how much had changed in just that week.

Quinn wanted to think that life wasn't like that. That there weren't these big moments that defined her life. The problem was, the last couple of years had felt like nothing but big moments that had changed her life. The little blue plus on the pregnancy test. Her father setting the timer on the microwave. Finn punching Puck in the choir room. Signing the documents to give her baby away. Walking out to sing at Sectionals with her boyfriend. Seeing Rachel say goodbye on her computer screen. Seeing the girl bleeding to death in her bathtub. Telling her in the hospital that she'd be honest with her. Waking up wrapped around her and feeling how right it was. Her mom saying she didn't believe being gay was a sin. The picture of Lucy Caboosey crying and deciding her life couldn't be like that anymore.

What did it all mean? Was the universe trying to tell her something? Some moments stood out more than others. Lucy wanting to change her life. Her mom didn't think being gay was a sin. Waking up with Rachel felt right. It repeated in her head, over and over. Change her life, not a sin, Rachel felt right. Change her life, not a sin, Rachel felt right. Change her life, not a sin, Rachel felt right.

Before she knew it, she was parked in Sam's driveway. Getting out with present in hand. Ringing the doorbell. Change her life, not a sin, Rachel felt right. It was there in front of her. The future. She could feel it. Everything was barreling out of control in her head. The moments, all leading up to this one. It would be so easy. To change her life. To not worry about it being a sin. To do what felt right. Rachel. She could be with Ra-

"Quinn?" Sam asked, opening the door. "I… I didn't expect you to come over. I've been calling you."

"I know," Quinn said simply. "I got you a present. Something…" 'You fucking coward, Quinn', her inner… well fuck. It was just her inner Quinn this time. No one else she could blame it on. Just her. "Something we could share together. Something I could share with you. I know you've been wanting me to open up more, and I… I want that, too. I want to try. With you. If you still want me."

Sam smiled his overly large smile and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up and spinning her around. "Of course I still want you."

Quinn wanted to scream, to yell at him to put her down. She wanted to run out of there and back to Rachel. She wanted to take her spot back as Rachel's pillow, watch Buffy with her, play with Babs with her, and just be happy. Be there for her. Be whatever she needed to be for Rachel. She wanted a lot of things.

Instead she kissed Sam as he let her down and tried not to hate herself. At least she could admit it now, if only to herself inside her own head, the words that she would never speak aloud. She liked Rachel Berry. No, more than that. She had a crush on Rachel. Another girl.

It had been a long week.