Longest chapter yet. I hope that makes some of you happy. I also threw in something towards the end that will hopefully put a smile on your faces.
Mitre, this fic is based on the American version of Big Brother. But I have been taking little snippets of the UK one and complimenting stuff where I think it would fit, or bring clarification to the readers. Thank you for your comment.
Chloe, you check for updates every night? Awww. *blushes* As I am writing the Faberry, I often adopt a goofy smile too. So we are twins lol. I love you for your knowledge of Zero 7 ;) Loooove!
Original-badass, hello :) Thank you for the PM. It was the first thing that I read when I got back from my trip. Made me smile. Thank you. If you are going to keep complimenting me like that, we're going to have to get married, provided you are of age of course ;) I find myself laughing when Santana speaks to - or through - me too. I'd totally be her friend in real life! And call me dude all you want. I've always wanted a penis. Lol. So I bought one from Anne summers :P My apologies, I'm feeling reckless after having spent time with my friends in a foreign town.
Dgronison, thank you for another in-depth review ;) Very interesting to hear about your history with the name Bryony! I hadn't heard it until about seven years ago, and I really liked how different it was! You totally still have to use it for your child! Great name. I was bored of Will, so I figured that readers probably were too. So I figured I'd better do something with him lol... I don't have a face canon for Beth. There are so many on Tumblr, I wouldn't even know which one to choose from. You should whoever you think suits her voice in this story more : ) I love Beth! I love writing her too! Thanks for the well wishes. I enjoyed my trip a lot. It was sinfully good, which is right up my alley! I love Zero 7; you are welcome for the suggestion. The most popular or well-known Zero 7 song is perhaps Destiny. Sia just owns on it. It is an already fucking ridiculously beautiful song as it is. But that voice. Ugh! Look Up, I Have Seen, and Give It Away are amongst some of my favs. Rachel will tell you, because she has all of their albums :P
Nini, hey. I love a newcomer :) Please don't restrain yourself. I love it when people swear, especially when it is because they are passionate about something. You should create an account, and follow the fic. That way you will get an email alert when I post a new chapter. That is how it works on here, because the story is not yet complete ;) Thanks for the kind words. Mercedes and Mike Chang may or may not come into the fic. They didn't interest me enough to have them be houseguests. But when this story moves away from the BB house, they may be supporting characters.
JackilisFamo, another one who despises Jacob lol. You may enjoy this chapter then ;)
LikeNobodysWatching, aww, thank you for reviewing so many chapters at once. Your input was greatly appreciated :)
isamfab, that's an interesting opinion. Thanks for the input.
Sorry for the length of the A/N :/ lol.
Unable to stomach viewing another moment of the argument that had ensued between Bryony and Rachel, Will removed his headphones, and looked his secret living quarters up and down, for what must have been the twenty-fifth time now.
His eyes still hadn't grown accustomed to the black and gold decor. Or the haunting posters on the walls, which were illustrated in this heavy, almost unhinged, scrawl that saw jagged black lines assemble to form the words, 'Power Corrupts!' and, 'Do What Thou Wilt!'
He had to wonder how he - of all the houseguests - had managed to land such a gig.
Well, he was already aware of the how, since Big Brother had called him to the diary room and explained what awaited him, earlier in the day. But his mind was still reaching out, grasping for that ever so elusive why.
After all, why would the American public vote him into such a position?
Had they granted him such power because they thought him fair? Because they knew that he'd do the right thing with it?
Will hoped so.
He also hoped that his decision to either assist or hinder certain houseguests, wouldn't affect his game once he returned to the main house.
As for what was going on in the main house...
"What's the big fucking deal?" Bryony barked at the bathroom door. "You're really gonna act like I've never washed my hands whilst you were peeing before? Well I'm sorry to tell you such shocking news, but I've already seen everything - licked it, tasted it, had my fingers inside of -"
"Go to hell, you despicable piece of trash!" Rachel lashed out, from beyond the door.
"What, afraid of getting turned on?" Bryony grunted, forcefully thrusting a sideward elbow into the wall. "I know you've finished in there! I heard you flush. Now let me in! I need to wash my fucking hands!"
"You could have washed your fucking hands," Rachel mocked, "in the kitchen sink! But no! You saw your opportunity to antagonize me, and you just couldn't pass it up, could you? Well now you can wait!"
"Yeah, I was really gonna use the kitchen sink - where the plates that we eat from go - to wash away the gunk from the spider that I just killed, wasn't I?"
"Go away! I don't want to deal with you right now! Or ever actually!"
"Oh grow up, Rachel!"
"How rich, especially coming from you!"
"Are you gonna come out and let me in?"
"No!"
Sighing to the point that her shoulders slumped, Bryony leaned her forehead into the bathroom door.
Was this really what her long and colorful relationship with Rachel had come to - arguing, for the world to see, over such trivial bullshit?
Apparently so...
It used to be that when they'd verbally throw down, there was substance behind it. Passion. Something to fight over, like the time that Rachel had staged an intervention and tried to get Bryony to go to rehab.
For all the time that she spent trying to forget, Bryony remembered that evening as though it was seared across the insides of her eyelids, in florescent gold. She remembered how it had begun with softly spoken words of reassurance, and promises of a better life...
How it had quickly descended into an argument; lovers stabbing one another with the cruelest words imaginable - broken door handles, and ugly holes in the walls.
She'd never forget Rachel's big beautiful quivering brown eyes, as they'd leaked into the carpet and pleaded with her to take the help that was on offer.
The model-esque Italian woman would always look back on the incident, and know that her outright refusal to accept help, that night, had been the conception of the cancer that'd eaten into her relationship with her high school sweetheart.
The dismal withering of her relationship with the woman who would always own her heart.
"Rachel..."
"I tried to be civil with you when you arrived, last night, and you behaved like a prized asshole! Well we can play this game until you leave, if that's what you'd like!"
Bryony sighed again, this time a lot heavier. "Rachel, I... I'm sorry," she suddenly found herself murmuring. "Is that what you need to hear?"
Upon the drafty silence, Bryony lifted her slender hand and pressed it flat to the door, needing to be as close to her beautiful little diva as possible. "I... I'm sorry for all of it - choosing drugs over us, not coming home for weeks on end, not calling, making you worry when you were supposed to be focused on performing," she said, closing her eyes as though that would shut out her demons. "I think... I know that a part of you blames yourself - thinks that you failed. Thinks that you weren't enough. But you didn't fail... I did. I'll never forget how you fought for us. And I can't believe I just said all of that on TV. But..." Bryony shrugged, her voice cracking as she asked: "Say something?"
When the bathroom door gently clicked open, some two minutes later, Bryony startled and stepped back, silent as she peered into indecipherable brown eyes.
"Say something," she repeated, soon after.
Rachel tucked her hair behind her ear and looked to the floor. "I've been waiting to hear those words for... so long," she uttered. "I-I didn't think that I ever would."
"I know." Bryony chuckled sadly. Emptily. "Even after you were outrageous enough to think that proposing would get me to stop using, and I was a jerk about it, a-and you broke up with me, I still wasn't - I couldn't say those things to you. I couldn't say sorry. I was trying to get you to take me back, and I couldn't tell you the things that you needed to hear. Perhaps the only things that would've gotten you to take me back..."
"Where was this person when you arrived last night? Huh?" Rachel asked, glancing up into sullen yet adoring dusky green eyes. "I'm actually a little embarrassed, because everybody in here now thinks that last night's display was the person that I dated for six years. What would your mother think?"
"She'd think that it was difficult for me - seeing you with Quinn," came the rather snappish answer. "No more difficult than what I put you through - I know that. But still, you know how I get when... I'm hurting."
Sucking in a breath, Rachel gave a tiny nod, because she did know. She knew enough to lift her hand and gently palm the vulnerable woman's cheek. "Bryony, I appreciate you telling me the things that you've just told me. You've given me the tools to put some personal things to rest. But," she stressed, allowing her hand to slip away, "you don't belong in my life anymore. Too much has gone on between us. I'm moving on, and..." The brunette shrugged a shoulder. "If I play my cards right, maybe Quinn and I could have something great."
Bryony looked off, her jaw visibly pulsing.
"Please understand that my intention is not to be cruel when I say that. I just want you to know that that's where I am. I'm moving on, and I'd like to do so in an uninhibited fashion. Because of that, I'm going to do everything within my power to see that you leave this house as soon as possible."
Bryony raked her fingers back through her dark tresses, and smirked bitterly. "Well it looks like you have a fight on your hands, because I'm going to do everything within my power to stick around."
Rachel sighed, but nodded nevertheless. "I can only respect that, just as you have to respect that I'm moving on."
"Moving onto what - Quinn? She's a lonely straight woman, who just enjoys the attention! You're an experiment to her!"
"If that is so, then I am more than willing to be her test subject," Rachel replied, strong in her convictions. "And if she's a lonely straight woman, who merely enjoys the attention, then I am more than happy to be the one that she chooses to make her feel special. If things do progress between us, and she breaks my heart, well then it won't be the first time that I've put myself out there only to have my heart crushed. You have to let this go. For your own sake."
Bryony's throat constricted, her nostrils quivering as she fought off an overwhelming sadness. An overwhelming feeling of finality, loss, frustration, and regret.
"What if I can't?" she croaked, after a while.
Rachel's features bent to facilitate a sad smile. "Being in here with me isn't going to help, is it?" she offered softly.
"I already told you; I'm here for the money."
"Okay. Alright," Rachel whispered, gracious enough to play along. "Then be here for the money. Everybody else is. Just as long as you're not here to harm my budding bond with Quinn."
Bryony scoffed, her pursed lips twitching as though words knocked just behind them. But she didn't speak a word.
And that was when Rachel leaned up and gently embraced her, holding her close so that their hearts could say their goodbyes.
Only Quinn, who'd been watching the intimate exchange from the end of the hallway, wasn't so warmed...
In other parts of the house, Tina was taking a pair of tweezers to her right eyebrow. She grimaced at her reflection and made quick work of the unruly hair, hissing as it came loose.
"What a strange day so far," Kurt commented upon the comfortable silence. "Will vanished, even though some of his clothes are still here, Emma and Puck appear to be - dare I say it - flirting, and we haven't had the food competition yet. Something's brewing," he gravely foretold, raking product back through his soft tufts of coiffed brown hair, before inspecting his efforts in the vanity mirror.
"At least Will's gonna get t-to see his wife now. He was missing her a-a lot."
"Whilst I hope that Will's okay, I can't say that I'll miss him," Jacob jumped in, something bitter about his tone. "He was awfully long-winded, and wasn't integrating with the group as well as he -"
"Jacob! Can I talk to you for a second?"
All efforts to beautify suddenly ceased, and all eyes gravitated towards the owner of the somewhat demanding voice.
Quinn.
With the acknowledgment of her presence, the energy that populated the small open space seemed to shift, something steely crackling in the air.
Jacob adjusted his glasses, sitting up just that little bit straighter. He then put on a smile that wasn't entirely natural and asked, "what would you like to talk to me about?"
The hazel-eyed blonde arched an eyebrow at the duplicitous little man. "If I'd wanted to discuss it with everyone, I wouldn't have made it a point to ask you if I could talk to you, now would I?"
Kurt released a juvenile snigger, to which Tina nudged him in the side.
"Sure!" Jacob quickly conceded, standing. "Anything for our beautiful HOH."
Ignoring the nauseating flattery altogether, Quinn span on her heel, and led Jacob into the cabana room, where they settled on the bed-seat type contraption.
A couple of the room's luxuriously over-sized cushions rested between them, which Quinn swiftly batted to the side, because fuck if this little twerp was going to have even a speck of dust to hide behind.
Eyeing the now pig-eared cushions - some of which had crashed into the wall and sloped down pitifully - Jacob's heart began to gallop. "... So Quinn," he did his best to chirp, "I believe this is the first time that you and I have had a one-to-one conversation in here. Could it be that you've suddenly realized how handsome I am?"
"I know that you were one of the three mystery votes," Quinn said, getting straight to the point. "If you cough up the other two names, I just may nominate Bryony and one of them, this week, instead of Bryony and... you."
Accepting that the time had come, the nerdy little man cleared his throat. "Well then, I suppose there's no point in lying. In fact," he said, "I think that full disclosure would be the best route to take in this situation."
"Ah, you're a smart smart man," Quinn quipped.
Adopting on an air of woe, Jacob bowed his head. "There's an all male alliance of four in the house," he confessed.
"No shit," Quinn scoffed.
Jacob lifted his gaze.
He could only blink as he realized that Quinn - and God knows who else - had already known about The Gruesome Foursome.
He'd been hoping to disclose the existence of the all male alliance, to make it seem as though he was even willing to reveal truths that he wasn't obligated to, on top of the truths that the stunning blonde had requested.
But now, realizing that Quinn had already known about The Gruesome Foursome, Jacob knew that he looked sneaky and duplicitous, which was bad. Very bad, especially when one was talking to the Head Of Household.
"Listen Quinn -"
"I'd like the names of the other three alliance members please."
Gulping his aborted sentence down, Jacob quickly nodded. "Sam, Puck, and Artie. And myself, of course."
"Sam?" Quinn repeated, her brow shooting up towards her hairline. "And Puck?" she added, scoffing as she shook her head incredulously. "If you tell me that Sam voted to evict Emma, I just might shit myself."
"No." Jacob shook his head in the negative. "The three votes were myself, Artie, and Puck. Sam didn't know anything about it. But!" he emphasized, slinging a halting finger up, "Artie conceived of the entire plan. We tried to talk him out of it - told him that it was a terrible idea. But he figured that if we kept Finn around, we could float along for another week -"
"Whilst the bigger players went after him, and him them," Quinn stated.
"Quite simply, yes."
After a tense few beats of silence, the blonde hummed a simple, "okay."
"Okay?"
"I suddenly seem to have an echo, and," Quinn drawled, "I'm not sure that I like it. Surely my voice isn't that deep."
Simply because he knew no other means through which to cope with his glaring discomfort, Jacob chuckled, and rather awkwardly. "You and I should talk more often. I feel like we could be of great use to each other in the grand scheme of the game, mostly because nobody would ever suspect us of working together."
"Maybe."
"Great. Are we done here, or..."
Quinn stood up and walked towards the door, where she smiled and almost gallantly held it open for the sneaky little man.
It was only when Jacob was halfway out of the room, that she ran her fingertip along her chin and chimed, "and if I talk to Artie, and Puck about this - they'll corroborate your story?"
Jacob halted in his tracks. "If they don't, it'll be because they're mad that I outed everything."
Quinn said nothing. She merely ran the pad of her index finger back and forth her bottom lip, muted glints of sadistic amusement shimmering over her eyes, as she leaned against the door frame, and waited for the short man to excuse himself.
Down in the house's secret living quarters, Will was somewhat reeling...
Had he really allowed himself to be manipulated by such an obvious manipulator, such as Jacob?
The older man removed his headphones, resting them on the table that housed the TV monitor through which he'd been watching his fellow houseguests. He stood up from the small but comfortable couch, and headed for the stairs that led up to the diary room.
He'd reached a decision. Or two...
"Hello Will. What has brought you to the diary room?" Big Brother asked.
"I've reached my first two decisions," Will answered, lapping one leg over the other as he casually tapped his fingers against the diary room chair's armrest.
"And which decisions are they?"
"Firstly, America wanted me to decide who should be on slop, this week, and who should be permitted to enjoy luxury food." Will suddenly frowned. "For the luxury food - could you just clarify my position regarding Quinn or Santana?"
"As Quinn is the Head Of Household, she will enjoy a luxury food diet. As Santana is the owner of a summer-long slop pass, she will also enjoy a luxury food diet," Big Brother clarified. "Please list the four houseguests who you have chosen to join them in luxury."
"Uh, thank you for clearing that up," Will chuckled. "Since I've been - I guess you could call it - hiding out down here, I've seen some very interesting things of my fellow houseguests. Some things that I liked, and some things that I didn't. So," he said, bringing his hands together in a firm one-syllable clap, as if to get the show on the road, "based upon what I've seen, I'd like to list Tina, Kurt, Brittany, and Rachel."
"By your failure to select the following houseguests, Bryony, Puck, Emma, Jacob, Artie, and Sam, they will all endure slop for the week. Are you happy with your decision?"
Will gave a tight smile, because he couldn't grasp how anyone could ever be happy about subjecting a human being to slop. "Not particularly happy. But this is Big Bother, and I understand that this is all a part of the game."
"The decisions that you have yet to make are as follows: the houseguest who will receive thirty-thousand dollars. The houseguest who will receive a phone call from home. The houseguest who will be excluded from this week's Power Of Veto competition. And the houseguest who will be excluded from the next two Head Of Household competitions."
Will brought his hands together in his lap, steepling his fingers. "Yes, well I have now come to a decision regarding who I think should be excluded from this week's Power Of Veto competition."
"Which houseguest have you decided to exclude?"
"I would like to exclude Jacob from this week's POV competition please."
"What brings you to such a decision?" Big Brother probed.
"Firstly, I was under the impression that Jacob and I got along. But it turns out that he thinks I'm long-winded, which is fine. But I didn't appreciate the tone that he employed when he said it. Secondly, I've chosen Jacob due to the fact that when he approached me with the idea that the house should keep Finn, he did so by attempting to manipulate and appeal to me through my values. I.e: the, 'everybody deserves a second chance. Even Finn,' pitch, which I - embarrassingly enough - ate right up," Will explained, later pausing to clear his throat. "And after watching the conversation between him and Quinn, just now, I now know that he wanted me to vote Emma out for his own selfish reasons - that it hadn't a thing to do with giving Finn a second chance. He was also a part of a secret alliance. That is why I'm selecting Jacob."
"Due to your decision, Jacob will not participate in this week's Power Of Veto competition. Is there anything else that you would like to add?"
"Well," Will began, never one to shy away from the opportunity to make a speech, "I can only guess that Quinn will be nominating both Jacob and Bryony. So the strategy behind my decision is that if Jacob can't play for the Veto, he can't take himself off of the block, which is a good thing, as I feel that it would be best for the house if he goes home."
"After you fell out of the hammock, laughing at me, I feel like we didn't see each other all that much today. How was your first day back on luxury food?" Rachel chirped around her toothbrush.
"Great."
In response to the unenthusiastic monosyllable, Rachel frowned into the oval mirror that hung over the lavish sink...
Perhaps another topic would evoke a little more passion from her gorgeous blonde bedmate.
"So did you read your letter from Beth, Quinn?"
"Yeah."
...
Rachel's frown only deepened.
She rinsed away the last remnants of toothpaste that clung to her lips, and hung her toothbrush up beside Quinn's, before poking her head around the archway. "Is everything okay?" she asked, growing antsier by the second. "Beth didn't say anything awful about me, d-did she?"
From where she lay on her side, under the silk sheets, Quinn scooted down the bed and snuggled into her pillow. "She's forbidden me from swearing, so I'm afraid that I can't repeat what she wrote about you."
With a flip of the light switch, Rachel plunged the en suite into darkness, and headed for the bed, which was cast in the soft light of the lamp that sat over on the chest of drawers.
"I haven't yet learned your current facial expression well enough to know whether or not you're messing with me. But I can only hope that you are," she sort of griped, peeling back the sheets. She climbed in beside the blonde, who'd taken to peering at her with an unnerving intensity. "Okay, what's going on?" Rachel decided to just ask.
Quinn stretched her leg out, wriggling her toes against the brunette's.
"I would ask you why you have such cold toes, Quinn. But there appears to be another type of draft that is originating from your side of the bed. So tell me what is bothering you, so that I may - for the second consecutive night - fall asleep to the thrum of your heartbeat in my right ear."
"I want to spoon tonight," Quinn said.
Despite the palpable atmosphere, Rachel giggled. "I thought you'd never ask. I can only guess that this means that Beth gave me her seal of approval. Big spoon or little spoon?"
"Big spoon. But I warn you; I've never been the big spoon before, because all the men that I've ever dated were big burly guys."
Rachel turned over, and snuggled her back into Quinn's warm supple front. "I'm sure you'll be fantastic at it. Though, you have to put your arm around me, Quinn. That's big spooning one-oh-one," she instructed, her petite shoulders trembling with another quiet giggle.
A moment later, there was some minute shuffling, and then a pale arm draped itself over her midriff, pulling her in even closer.
Rachel grinned as she immersed herself in the sensation of Quinn's frame melding around her own, later releasing a content sigh when the blonde placed her chin on her shoulder. "I like this," she murmured, merrily repositioning her head about her pillow.
"I interrogated Jacob before we all dug into Emma's chicken broth," Quinn suddenly announced, though her voice was quiet in the brunette's ear.
"Yeah? I haven't spoken to him since Tina told us what he's been up to - he must have known that something was up. Anyway, what did the little troublemaker say, dear?"
Quinn snorted out a chuckle. "Did you just call me dear?"
The sound of the blonde's mirth - it set Rachel at ease, and compelled her to think that she'd been reading too much into Quinn's recent monosyllabic answers. Perhaps the stunning woman was just tired, or quite possibly missing her daughter even more after reading the letter.
"Yes I did," Rachel answered soon after. "Do you have a problem with that, dear?"
"Besides the fact that it makes me feel like I'm fifty, when I'm twenty-eight, no. No problem," Quinn quipped. "No problem at all."
"Smart ass."
"Pervert," Quinn shot back.
"Need I remind you that I'd only have to lean down a little, in order for me to be able to bite your arm?"
"You do realize that your obsession with biting me, is only further indication of just what a pervert you are, don't you?"
Rachel giggled. "Possibly," she whispered, as though her penchant for biting was supposed to be a secret. "But it's only because you're so scrumptious that I feel like the next logical step is to take a bite out of you."
"Hmmm. Scrumptious," Quinn mused. "I guess I don't do too badly for a lonely straight woman, who just enjoys the attention, huh?"
Rachel tensed up, her content smile waning. She quickly turned around, breaking Quinn's clasp around her midriff in the process. "I never once said that!" she defended herself. "Were you spying on me?"
"Of course not. I came downstairs to fend off the dark lord, because I saw that you and what's her face were arguing on the TV," Quinn calmly explained, almost patronizing in her tone.
"Whilst I hold a great amount of appreciation for your concern, I'm not comfortable with knowing that you were listening in on that conversation," Rachel snapped, to which Quinn merely peered at her. "What else did you hear?"
"Well what I didn't hear, was you telling her that I'm not some lonely straight woman who just enjoys the attention, which probably means that some part of you considers it to be true."
Sighing, Rachel ran her fingers through her hair.
"I've been single for four and a half years, Rachel. Sure, it can get a little lonely - not having someone to snuggle with, or just be a goof with. Or even have loud uninhibited sex with. But I do just fine. I'm not some desperate Dianna, who'll jump on the first person to wave a stick at her - or in your case, I guess it'd be a bush. Not a stick."
"I never said that you were, Quinn," Rachel sighed, the innuendo sailing straight over her head.
"You didn't tell what's her name that I wasn't either which, again, must mean that you think it's true," Quinn was quick to answer.
"Listen, my only crime is perhaps not knowing why you like me back," Rachel admitted. "When I'm on stage, performing, I transform into something special. I'm the champagne of the Broadway world." She huffed and shifted onto her side properly. "But when I'm not on stage, I'm just Rachel. There's little spectacular about me, and I just... I have a hard time figuring out why someone like you would be interested in me, especially when you've only ever been interested in men prior. It's not so much that I think you're desperate, than it is me wondering what's so special about me that I've seemingly managed to make you consider pursuing something with another woman. Bryony knew that, and was trying to play on it."
Quinn eyed the het-up little brunette in what became a lingering moment, before smirking.
Then she spoke. "For one, you're beautiful in this really unique exotic kind of way, and you have these amazing abs. Sexy, if you will. Guess the yoga's paying off."
In spite of her mood, Rachel blushed all the way down to her neck, and quickly scrambled to pull the sheets up to her nose. "Quinn," she quietly whined.
"Let's not forget that you make me laugh, or that you share an obscured musical taste in common with not only me, but with Beth too," the blonde continued on. "Your inexplicably soft hair and skin are very appealing to my fingertips, in a way that I've never had the pleasure of experiencing before. You don't take any shit, which is always a fine attribute. Then there's that big smart brain of yours, and your deeply warming thoughtfulness. Not to mention our ridiculous chemistry. Oh, and bonus points for once giving the dark lord a black eye and a fat lip. Lastly, I want to put you in my pocket and keep you. What's not to go gay for?" she asked, attempting to peel the sheet away from the flustered little woman's face.
After a moment of back and forth tugging, Rachel eventually released the sheets and allowed Quinn - as well as the cameras - an uninhibited view of her face.
"Well I guess when you put it like that, my insecurities are made to seem unwarranted, and completely unfounded," the brunette murmured down at her hands.
"Now say you're sorry for ever doubting yourself in the first place," Quinn urged, having nodded every few syllables.
Rachel smiled warmly. "No, because if I hadn't doubted myself, I wouldn't have gotten to hear such wonderful things. Thank you. I... don't quite know what to say."
"Well, I would've told you all those things eventually. And you don't have to say anything, except that you're looking into ways to clone pocket-sized miniatures of yourself."
"I must warn you that all they'd do is eat, sleep, poop, and sing in your pocket," Rachel gently chuckled out. "You'd need to provide a miniature cleaning lady to go along with them."
"See? Already branching the business out. Must be that big smart brain."
Rachel gently nudged the goofy warm mass beside her, and shuffled closer.
It was in that moment that Quinn jerked the covers over both their heads, thrusting them into their own little world of shadows.
"What are you doing?" Rachel mused, giggling as memories of hiding out under the duvet, as a child, struck her.
"I don't want anybody who watches the show to steal my technique," Quinn replied, as if it should be obvious.
"What tech -"
Before the brunette knew what was happening, the softest pair of lips that her flesh had ever known, were brushing over her own.
Her heart kicked up the immediate rhythm of her arousal, only worsening when Quinn pressed forward and gently bit her bottom lip, smirking into it a moment later.
Well, of course, that was it...
The fire had officially been ignited.
Rachel palmed Quinn's cheek, and surged at the blonde's lips, licking them, and biting them, and kissing them. "Mmm," she groaned, her core humming something moist with each languid stroke of Quinn's tongue against her own.
For the next three minutes or so, the two women tasted one another, learning each other's sounds, and rhythms, and chaste yet yearning inclinations of the hips.
Neither could believe that they were doing such a thing on TV.
Not that that tempered their sensual fervor...
"Mmm. You're entirely too good at that," Rachel whispered, having reluctantly decided to pull away. "So good that we must stop. I don't want, 'has had sex in the Big Brother house,' on my résumé."
"It'd certainly be a conversation starter though, wouldn't it?" Quinn husked, nearing the warmth of her lips towards the brunette's cheek, so that she could press a sweet kiss to it. She then whipped the covers away, and grinned at just how hooded Rachel's eyes had become. "You look like you just had an orgasm," she teased.
"You know, you may not be too far off there Quinn," Rachel said, blowing out a long shaky breath.
"I'm hardly any better off. That was nice. You're a very sensual kisser," Quinn told her. She ran her hand down Rachel's hip. "Maybe we can take each other for another spin sometime."
"I'll need to recover from this one first."
Quinn laughed, the tendons in her neck dancing beneath her creamy flesh.
Once she'd recovered, she mused, "I was telling you about Jacob before we melted into one another, wasn't I?"
Finally having calmed herself down, somewhat, Rachel hummed in the affirmative, because that was what she'd been reduced to - mere grunts and other nonsensical sounds...
; )