Might I say that you guys are epic? I am quite happy that you guys are enjoying this. I didn't know if anyone would, because most people seem to like my Big Brother more. The UK one, which is much more boring than the US one in my opinion. English folk sitting around bitching about each other behind each other's backs -_-
Anyway, thanks for the feedback - even the feedback with the swearing in it LOL. Especially, actually lol. I appreciate it.
Edited: What is up with this website? Not getting the email that tells me when I have uploaded a new chapter. I assume you guys aren't getting the notification email either.
Long before Rachel, countless souls had harbored an attraction towards Quinn Fabray. Though most had never been as brazen about it as the intense little brunette. Even so, Quinn had always sort of known when she was being watched with lustful intent. Whether it was a jittery new colleague at the office, or the fumbling man behind the desk at the bank, or even her daughter's handsome teacher - which it had been at one time - the blonde had always taken comfort in the fact that she could return home at the end of the day, unwind with a bottle of beer, and get fresh perspective on any given situation.
But being in the Big Brother house, surrounded by eleven other people, twenty-four hours a day, meant that she couldn't do that.
As the morning crawled on, Quinn was growing more and more aware of the fact that she was, in effect, living with someone who was openly taken with her - even sharing the same sleeping space as her! The same toilet, shower area. Kitchen.
It was constant, and since houseguests were not permitted to watch any TV, or leave the house, their only source of entertainment fell to one another, which unfortunately meant that the luxurious sip of solitude that Quinn yearned for, no longer seemed all that likely.
Thus things with Rachel were awkward. At least a little, anyway…
As the hazel-eyed blonde stared off into space, she mused over the times that had seen her unnecessarily delete stuff from her cell phone, in order to avoid having to interact with her fellow human being.
How she missed her beloved cell phone.
"How was your first night's sleep?" Sam suddenly chirped, from where he was hunched over the kitchen counter, slurping from his large cup of coffee, beside her.
Quinn's eyes phased back into focus. Back into the here and now.
She hummed indecision over what she felt her response should be. "It was okay," she settled upon. "I'd love to get back to sleeping in a double though. I have a double at home that's lumpier than this slop, but at least my body still has the freedom to make all the shapes that it wants to, you know?"
"I do know. You know, you can - like - bunk with me in the double if you want. I-I promise not to try anything."
Sam's voice was a little hoarse, still laden with the webs of slumber that he'd not long awoken from, Quinn noticed. And his stark blue eyes still hadn't shaken that first-thing-in-the-morning haze. Then there was his short blonde spiky hair, which Quinn had to guess had been flattened at a weird angle thanks to his sleep position. Thanks to his body making shapes.
Indeed, as Quinn sat and scooped pained spoonfuls of slop past her lips, she took note of even the small things about the man, so that she didn't have to take note of other things. Like how Rachel was just a meter away in the lounge, watching them as she effortlessly executed each of her yoga poses, which was more than could be said for Artie and Tina, who were both baring teeth in grimace as they trembled in their stances.
Steering her mind back to Sam's fumbling yet kind-hearted offer, Quinn forced down another gooey throatful of the lumpy Oatmeal-like substance, and traced her fingertips along the fruit bowl's chrome rim. "Thanks for the offer, Sam. But I have a thirteen-year-old daughter, who I'm sure is watching, and I don't think that I'd be setting a very good example if I just jumped into bed with a guy on the second day. A guy who she most likely already has a crush on, by the way." She was sure to ease the man's clear disappointment with a playful smile.
Sam nodded, putting out an empty chuckle as he smoothed his hair down at the top. "I get that - the setting a good example thing. I bet you're a great - you must be fantastic. As a mom, I mean..."
The muscular surfer frowned at his own incoherence, the fine fair hairs that populated the back of his neck set alive by the jitters that Quinn effortlessly seemed to reduce him to.
Maybe he just needed more coffee. "Anyone want a cup of coffee?" he called out, dismounting his stool and heading for the Espresso machine.
"No thanks," Quinn politely declined. "But earlier Puck said that he'd love one. After he gets done thrashing Finn on the pool table out back, that is."
"Can I get one please?" Artie jumped at the chance. He'd never been a big coffee drinker. But anything to escape Rachel's strenuous yoga lesson.
Sam smiled. "Sure, Artimus. Coming right up. I'll just take Puck's out to him."
"Very much appreciated," Artie chirped. "You wanna knock a few balls around the pool table once Puck and Finn finish their game?"
"Of course. But dude, you're gonna have to bring your A-game."
"You know it."
"You know, Artie, you're not fooling anyone," Rachel chuckled, eyeing the boy knowingly. "Now get back here and finish up your yoga lesson, like Tina here."
"Drat! It seems that the great Artimus has been found out," Artie goofed, accompanying it with an over-exaggerated - to the point that it was comical - click of the tongue. "Seriously though, Rachel; with such the gift of insight, you've probably already gleaned who the secret couple is, if it isn't you and someone else that is." The young man's eyes grew narrow from behind the glasses that rested across his nose. But in the most playful fashion.
Even so, Rachel wasn't taking any chances. "I'm not a part of the secret couple, nor have I yet figured out who is," she assured him, as she kept straight sturdy legs and bent so that her palms hovered just inches from the floor. "And I am certainly not married. I proposed to my last girlfriend, after six years, and was succinctly rebuffed. Never again!" she vowed, as though the events that she'd spoken of were, to this day, lingering sour within her mouth.
"I'm... sorry to hear that, Rachel," Quinn offered, backing her sentiments up with a small consoling smile.
"Yeah, I'm sorry to hear that too," Artie, Sam, and Tina followed up, though not all at once.
Rachel merely shrugged, shook her wrists out, and walked off.
The brunette's abrupt exit brought a frown to Tina's forehead. "Maybe one of us should... go and see if she's... o-okay."
Quinn wasn't dense. She knew that, 'one of us,' somehow meant her. "I don't know, Tina. Maybe she just wants a few minutes to herself."
"Maybe," Tina quietly muttered...
Letting loose a quiet sigh, Quinn pushed her bowl of slop as far away as it would go without toppling over onto the kitchen tile. The unspeakable substance was gag-worthy enough in a bowl, much less all over the floor. "Okay," she acquiesced begrudgingly. "I guess... I'll go talk to her then."
When Tina instantly perked up, the blonde was forced to wonder whether or not Rachel had said something to her about last night's hot tub conversation.
It didn't take Quinn long to find the brunette. There was something about the shorter woman's energy that expounded out, pushing against all things within reach. So when Quinn had pushed on the door to the cabana room, she hadn't at all been surprised when she found Rachel sat with her back against the wall, on the wide, built-in, bed-like seat, surrounded by a plethora of clownishly over-sized gold cushions.
The blonde glanced around the cozy little room, with its many mirrors, and relaxed lighting.
It seemed as though she'd found her spot to retreat to.
"Are you okay, Rachel?" she asked from the doorway.
"So you're actually speaking to me now?" came the brunette's curt response.
So curt, in fact, that it served to slice some of the tension, and put an amused glint in the blonde's eye.
"I spoke to you just now in the living area, before you walked out," Quinn replied, in that calm and rational - almost patronizing - voice that all of her ex's had detested.
"After ignoring me all morning."
Quinn entered the homely room and closed the door in behind her, lingering by it for a moment, before deciding to just bite the bullet by joining the other woman on the seat - or bed. She wasn't sure what the contraption was; just that she liked it.
She lay back fully into its comfort, peering up at the brunette. "I wasn't ignoring you. I've just been feeling a little... stifled."
Rachel's jaw seized tight as every person who'd ever called her clingy sprang to mind. "How dare you?" she spat, curling her legs up underneath her body. Away from Quinn. "Do not make out as though I've been acting all Fatal Attraction with you, because we both know that I haven't. Don't flatter yourself."
Quinn chuckled softly. "Would you just calm down for a second? God, and I thought I was sensitive."
"Not helping!"
"I just had no idea how difficult living with eleven other people would be," Quinn explained. "We had quite an intense conversation last night. In the outside world I can always go home at the end of the day, and process stuff. It's hard to do that in this house."
Rachel remained silent. She'd known that telling Quinn how she felt would come back to bite her in the ass. If anything, she was mad at herself.
"Quit being a grump, and say something," Quinn prompted, slowly walking her pale fingers across the cushioned seat, towards the brunette's knee.
"I'm not being a grump. This is the exact reason why I absolutely did not want to come into this house and be attracted to someone. Instead of putting our heads together so that we can figure out the identity of the secret couple, and secure our own safety within the house, we're squabbling about this! I should never have said anything."
"You're the one who's squabbling. I'm not," Quinn clarified, firm in her words and in her gaze. "I'm glad you told me what you told me last night. It cleared a few things up." She eased a smile up at the other woman, and needlessly pressed a fingertip to her knee. "I'm glad you told me," she repeated, allowing it to settle into the quiet. "I don't know; it's actually..." The blonde shrugged. "Kinda flattering, and a little sweet when you think about it."
Even as she rolled her eyes, Rachel couldn't help but allow a twitch of a smile. "We really need to get our heads back in the game," she said. "All of this should be irrelevant. It is irrelevant."
"Though I whole-heartedly agree that we need to get our heads in the game, and keep them there, this isn't irrelevant if it has an impact on how we co-exist in the house," Quinn pointed out, suddenly so serious. "I'm just finding our budding... friendship a little awkward because we're living together. If someone hits on me, in the outside world, I don't normally have to share a toilet with them afterward."
The silent brunette wasn't quite sure that she altogether understood what Quinn was getting at. There seemed to be meaning hidden beneath the obvious.
But when Quinn smiled and winked her way, Rachel felt as though she was grasping it. "First off, I did not hit on you. Once again, don't flatter yourself. I just told you that I think you're beautiful, and that I'm reluctantly attracted to you. There's a stark difference."
Quinn's cheeks slowly hiked up around a grin, her top lip riding up to reveal both rows of her perfect white teeth.
"And secondly," Rachel drawled, owning a tiny smirk of her own, "I promise not to go into the toilet after you've used it, if you promise not to go into the toilet after I've used it. Besides, that slop that you've been eating smells bad enough going in, much less coming out." She stuck her small well-kept hand out, an almost business-like air about her. "Let's shake on it."
Even if she'd wanted to, there was no way that Quinn could've clasped Rachel's hand and shook it, because she could just about breath, thanks to the laughter that had folded her up and knotted the muscles in her stomach.
Rachel watched the beautiful woman unravel beside her, small tears sprouting from the corners of those exquisite hazel eyes. "It really wasn't that funny, Quinn. Your sense of humor is much too basic. We must arrange some sort of an upgrade."
"Screw you," the tickled blonde just about managed.
As the laughter in the room gradually settled, Rachel grabbed a cushion and hugged it to her chest, because she needed something to shield her from this woman's merciless cuteness.
Upstairs in the HOH room, Emma watched on from the comfort of her bed. Though she hadn't heard a word of what either woman had said, she had eyes. In fact, the lack of sound seemed to add a deeper level of insight into both Quinn and Rachel's body language. The coy looks, the unnecessary contact, the laughter.
The unmistakable ease.
She'd already interrogated Finn about whether or not he was one half of the secret couple, to which he'd just stared at her vacantly in-between eyeing her snack basket. There were ten more houseguests to go through, and she would interrogate each and every one of them. Meticulously at that.
But as she peered up at the TV screen, and scrutinized the ease with which Quinn and Rachel interacted, Emma couldn't help but feel like she'd already caught her two rats...
Little did she know that if she were to skip on over to footage of the next room, she would have witnessed a true married couple, who were caught up in the throes of an argument.
I hope you liked it.