.
And a bold world for me
.

Maybe it's because of working on the song with Sam, or maybe because of talking to Becky, but Puck's been inspired lately. He's been playing his guitar more than he has in awhile.

He still does other things, sure. Like nap. And play video games. And go to work. And sell product. But he's also been playing. Making up songs. Singing a little, too.

Sam is very busy. The play just went on this week, and the musical will happen in about a month. His role in the play isn't quite as large, but it's still takes up about as much free time as he has. The rest of his time, he spends working and doing homework.

But once the play is over, Sam asks if Puck wants to hang out. Puck says absolutely, and heads over to Sam's house.

Finn's mom fusses over him a little when he arrives, which is nice. Tells him he looks handsome, asks if he's getting enough sleep, offers him some Gatorade. Puck takes it with surprise, tells her she looks great, and heads to Sam's room.

Sam stands up from whatever he's been typing on his computer to give Puck a slap on the shoulder in greeting. Puck holds up the Gatorade he was offered questioningly.

Sam laughs, "Oh yeah. Carole stopped buying sodas awhile back. Best we have, bro."

Puck shrugs, "Not a big deal."

Sam grins and picks up his guitar from the corner of the room, tuning it half-consciously. "Our original song was really good."

"I know. I was there," Puck reminds him.

Sam smiles, "I know you were. I'm just saying, we did awesome. We should write another."

"You think?"

"Yeah. I'm thinking we should write a lot of songs together."

Puck laughs uncomfortably. "Yeah, well, unless you're planning to stick around Lima…"

"I'm not," Sam says easily, "I'm going to LA to be with Mercedes after I graduate."

"You are?" Puck asks, surprised. It hurts a little, that he didn't even know this.

Sam nods, "Sure. She's looking for a place to live. I've already scoped out some places to apply for jobs. Still debating whether I want to go to school or not. I don't know what I'd want to study, but I did put in some late applications for a couple of the schools in that area."

"Well, good for you," Puck says, trying not to sound begrudging.

Sam strums a few chords on his tuned instrument and eyes Puck, "Weren't you going to go to California?"

"Didn't work out. Clearly," Puck grunts.

"Why not?"

Puck shrugs sullenly and doesn't answer.

"Well," Sam says, watching him carefully, "If you want to go this year, would you like to live with Mercedes and I?"

Puck feels like the world has expanded around him. "What?"

"I mean, I understand if you don't want to live with us, and be third wheel or whatever, but honestly, it'd be cheaper for us all to share a place. Mercedes has scoped out a few little two-bedroom houses in some of the not-so pricy neighborhoods, and they're a pretty good deal. A lot of them have a washer and dryer. And a driveway, which is good because we'll all need a car in that city. She hasn't made any offers of a place yet, but…should I tell her you're interested?"

Puck swallows. "Yes. Definitely. Yes."

"Cool," Sam smiles easily, "I think it'd be good, you know? I mean, I'm sure you could restart your pool business, but for a hobby, maybe a little extra cash…we could do music."

"We could," Puck agrees, "Mercedes, too."

Sam nods, "Even if she doesn't want to make music with us, she has connections now."

"This is…this is awesome. Thanks, Sam."

"No problem," he answers easily, "It just made sense, you know? And I thought it might help make it affordable for you to go if you had someone going with you."

Puck laughs a little, and is already imagining what it might be like, to drive out west in his truck with Sam, crossing plains and mountains and desert to make a new home. Like the trip he made with Finn, but different, because it wouldn't be about rebuilding a friendship, it'd be about building a family. Sam and Mercedes would be his family now.

The next day, he goes out behind the restaurant when Malcolm and Joey are having a meeting with their connection. Puck hands him a paper bag, and he looks in it. "What is this?" he asks.

"The weed I still had, and the money I owe you. I'm out, man. I can't do it anymore."

Malcolm stares at him, his eyes angry slits. The guy shrugs, "Fuck you," he says easily.

"I don't want any trouble," Puck says, "I'm not going to get you guys in trouble. I'm just done. One of you can take this cell phone if you want. Take any customers that text."

Joey snatches it, and Malcolm glares at him. "Your loss," the guy says again, "Get outta her."

"I'm gone," Puck promises, and walks back into the restaurant.

He has money saved up now, from his job and from his dealings. He can make a little more cleaning pools before he goes. He should have plenty to help him make the move across the country, and even some to leave for his mom.

Because, he thinks, she'll be fine. Without him her, her costs will go down. And if she still needs money…he can send her some from California if he has to.

But he can't miss this opportunity to make his dreams come true, with Sam and Mercedes.

.
You wish young eyes could see you grow older
.

She's in class, back in school after the weekend in which she came out to her mother, when her phone starts buzzing.

She's a little embarrassed, even though it's relatively quiet, and lifts it out of her messenger bag just enough to send it to voicemail before anyone starts staring at her. As she does, she sees that it's Puck, which is weird enough. He never calls, they really only text each other.

Even so, she forgets that he's called until she's back in her dorm room, starting to get to work on some homework. There's a big essay she should really start working on…

Her phone goes off again, and then she remembers the call. Stephanie glances up, distracted by the sound, and Quinn smiles apologetically as she answers, "Puck? What's up?"

"Hey," he sounds anxious, "I, uh. Did you get a call?"

"From you? Yeah," she rolls her eyes.

"No, not from me, from…someone else."

Quinn looks at Stephanie, who seems a little annoyed at the distraction, so she mouths an apology and begins to leave the dorm room, "That's really descriptive. Why do you want to know my phone records?"

"Because I just got a call from Shelby," he finally says.

Quinn stops, halfway finished with closing the door, and it takes her almost five full seconds to remember to close it the whole way. Then she just sinks to the ground outside her room. "What?"

"She…well, she said she was going to be in Lima for a little bit in early May, and wanted to see us. You know. Wanted Beth to see us."

Quinn's heart throbs and anger boils in her. "Fuck. No, I never got that call, and fucking fuck hell, that's when my finals are."

Puck's quiet for a moment, and says, "Well, I told her you would probably not be in town, and that you were at Yale. She sounded really impressed and all."

"Great," Quinn rolls her eyes. "That does me a lot of good."

"You should call her," Puck says.

"What?" Quinn asks. She heard him, but it doesn't seem to make sense.

"Well, I mean, she doesn't have your number anymore. Just mine. But she said you could call her. She lives in New York now, so like…maybe you could go see her."

Quinn's mouth is dry, "Are you…sure she wanted me to see Beth, too?"

"Yeah," Puck says, "Definitely. Especially after I told her how you were doing."

"And what did you tell her?" Quinn asks, afraid, suddenly, that Shelby might know too much.

"I mean, just that you were at Yale and stuff. I didn't tell her anything…you know. Personal. Like about Rachel."

Quinn exhales. "Good. Good, okay."

"That's really awesome, by the way," Puck says, sounding a little more lighthearted. "You and Rachel."

"If you make some kind of threesome joke, I swear, Puckerman…"

He laughs, "I knew I wouldn't have to. You'd think of it all on your own."

"Asshole," she says, but she's smiling.

"I'll text you her number," he tells her. "You should see her."

"Yeah…" Quinn says wistfully.

"I'm just glad I might have the chance. I'm moving to California this summer, with Sam and Mercedes."

"Really? That's great, Puck."

"Yeah." He sounds pleased and proud, and she suspects he's been trying to find a way to tell her this. She remembers, selfishly, getting mad at him last year when he was planning to leave. It really wasn't her place, she knows now, to demand he stay somewhere. He has his own future to think about.

"Well, take pictures when you see her," Quinn says softly. "And if I have the chance, I'll do the same."

"You'll have the chance. Call her, Quinn."

"I will."

.
Be a world child, form a circle
.

The talk with Shelby is surprisingly easy. When Quinn explains that she won't be in Lima when Shelby will because of her finals, Shelby seems very receptive to perhaps meeting in New York. She isn't interested in meeting at her home, however. Not that Quinn can really blame her. The last time she was allowed in Shelby's home, it had been…a little screwed up. She can fully admit that now.

So they are going to meet in Central Park that weekend. Quinn understands the strategy immediately. If it isn't going well, Shelby can claim Beth is cold, or it's too windy, or any Spring weather condition, to escape the meeting and go home without losing face or having to tell Quinn she had changed her mind. It's public, so there will be witnesses if Quinn does anything stupid. It makes sense.

It didn't make her feel great, but it makes sense.

Quinn calls Rachel soon afterwards. "I'm going to be in New York this weekend. Mind if I stay with you?"

"Of course!" Rachel sounds surprised and eager, "What's going on?"

Quinn hesitates. This has the potential to be weird. "I'm meeting, um, Shelby and Beth." She tries to sound nonchalant, like this is completely normal, but she fails utterly.

Rachel gasps audibly. "Oh my God. Quinn!"

"Yeah. I know. At Central Park. She gave me the intersecting streets near one of her favorite spots, so…"

"I have to go with you," Rachel decides.

"I…I don't know," Quinn hesitates.

"I don't want to intrude," Rachel backtracks, "I just thought…it might be good. I could support you. This is a big deal."

"I want you there," Quinn agrees, "I just…it's Shelby, Rachel. I don't want that to be…weird. I don't want us to be weird for her."

Rachel snorts, "She's forfeited any right to be upset about who I date!"

"I don't want to confuse Beth, either."

"Beth is two, Quinn. Almost three. At that age, very little about human relationships surprises or confuses children. Besides, she doesn't see me as a relative and she's a little too young to grasp the concept of biological mother. To her, we'll just be some strange ladies who are very interested in her."

"…You're right," Quinn acknowledges. But she doesn't know what to do. Should she warn Shelby? It seems almost cruel to surprise Shelby with an appearance of the daughter she gave up when Quinn is there to see her own child she will never raise.

In the end, on the day of, she texts Shelby to simply tell her that Rachel will be coming with her. Shelby had merely responded with an "Okay," so Quinn has no idea what to expect. What if she wouldn't show up now? Would it have been better to surprise her? At least then, she'd see Beth for a split second before Shelby escaped.

They come up out of the underground on the west side of Central Park. Quinn thinks she walked through this area with Rachel, maybe somewhere near the Natural History Museum, but she's not sure. It's Rachel who mentally orients them and begins to lead Quinn toward the street Shelby named. Quinn is pretty sure she could do this if she wanted to—the grid of Manhattan is easy enough to figure out, after all—but she's simply not in the state of mind to do so.

As they draw closer, Rachel reaches over and takes her hand. Quinn doesn't object, just squeezes her hand harder. She can feel her heartbeat in her throat, already tight with unshed tears. Once they begin to walk into the park, her eyes never stop moving, and Rachel is the one following Shelby's directions to an area near Strawberry Fields where she is waiting.

Somehow, Rachel is the one to see them first—Quinn can tell by the way her steps falter—and then, she sees them too.

She sees Shelby first, crouching off to the side of the walking path, dressed in a long navy blue spring jacket, skirt and heels, looking remarkably like Rachel in profile, so much so that Quinn's eyes linger for a moment, taking in the startling similarity. And then her eyes dip immediately, to the little girl standing in front of Shelby.

She's twisting a little, stubborn and restless, as Shelby attempts to straighten her little teal spring jacket, which is twisted about, the hood awkwardly flopping over her shoulder. She's wearing little pastel green pants and tiny black buckled shoes. She has unkempt wavy dark blonde hair that falls in thin, baby-fine strands to her shoulders, held back from her face with a few barrettes.

Quinn sight blurs with tears, and Rachel tugs her hand to keep her walking. Shelby notices them and stands, keeping a hold on one of Beth's hands as she does so. Beth is relatively untangled from her jacket, but appears completely uninterested in the approaching guests, instead squirming away behind Shelby, whining a little in frustration, eyes on a dog being walked by a passing man.

As they get closer, Quinn sees that Shelby has noticed their intertwined fingers, but she does not visibly react, except to just look for a few moments. And then, they're standing awkwardly across from each other.

"Hello, Quinn, Rachel," Shelby finally greets.

Quinn nods, still unable to speak, watching the little girl fidget next to her mother, attention everywhere else. Rachel murmurs a "Hello."

"Beth," Shelby says, kindly but authoritatively, "Say hello to Quinn and Rachel."

Beth returns her attention to them at the prompt from her mother, gazing from Shelby to the two girls and back a few times. Finally she murmurs shyly, "Hi."

Shelby gestures to Quinn, "Quinn is the lady who gave you to me, and Rachel is her friend."

"Girlfriend, actually," Rachel says boldly, spine straightening.

"Girlfriend," Shelby amends without a hitch.

Beth is paying more attention to the two of them now, and Quinn still seems frozen. Rachel, too, seems frozen, her hand clasping Quinn's fingers hard, perhaps because of what just happened.

"Are you sad?" Beth then asks Quinn, staring at her with a furrowed brow.

Quinn remembers her voice. "No," she croaks, "I'm just…very happy to meet you, Beth."

Beth asks, "Why?" and continues to study Quinn, until a gentle prompting from Shelby coaxes her to say in a practiced way, "Nice t' meetcha, too." Which is good, because Quinn doesn't even know how to begin to answer her question.

Quinn had wanted to bring her something, anything, in case this whole meeting went wrong so Beth could have something to remember her by, but in the end, hadn't had a chance to find or buy something meaningful. But she vows, now, that she would certainly be sending Beth something for her birthday.

"Why don't you show Quinn your toys, Beth?" Shelby prompts, opening her tote bag and extracting a small doll, one of the kids in the Barbie universe, Quinn thinks, with her hair chopped off, a plastic dog figurine, and a plastic dump truck.

Quinn crouches in the grass next to the bench, listening as Beth explains that the girl and the dog are best friends and ride in the back of the pickup truck and have adventures. They scoot the truck along the grass toward a nearby flowerbed, and Quinn listens to the stories Beth tells about what they do in this land of massive flowers, still mostly just green stalks.

Rachel crouches and listens for a little while, before standing and walking away to go stand by Shelby, giving Quinn's shoulder a squeeze as she passes her. Quinn glances over a few times, and notes that Rachel's posture is awkwardly stiff, but the two are talking, and watching them.

Quinn watches Beth play and narrate her playtime for almost twenty minutes, understanding most of her words, and asking her a few questions about herself as she does so, but Beth doesn't have a lot of patience for her game being interrupted, so Quinn mostly just listens.

When Shelby says reluctantly that she has to get Beth to the sitter so she can get to work, Quinn asks if she can give Beth a hug. Beth appears uncertain, and looks at Shelby, who nods her approval, then leans over to wrap her little arms around Quinn's neck.

Quinn hugs her back. She smells like baby shampoo and a little bit like Shelby's perfume.

"Well, I think this went well," Shelby says briskly. "Perhaps we can do it again sometime."

"I'd like that," Quinn answers softly. Rachel nods once, mutely.

As they leave, Rachel says, "I got her address for you. You know, to send a present to Beth."

"Thank you," Quinn says gratefully. "Was it…weird for you?"

Rachel shrugs, "A little," is all she says.

Which is good, because Quinn is pretty preoccupied on her own right now.

She met Beth. A Beth who can walk and talk. A Beth with a short attention span who clearly loves her mother. A Beth who understands only basically who she is, has not yet grasped what she might mean to her someday, and mostly just wants to play.

She met Beth.

.
We'll be placing fingers through the notches in your spine
.

Back at Rachel's apartment, Rachel is full of sympathetic emotions for Quinn, and some angst of her own.

She's happy Quinn is here. She's happy Quinn got to see Beth. But as she lays down in the bed next to her, and Quinn snuggles up to her and rests her head on Rachel's shoulder, there's a little bit of darkness in Rachel's heart. Still, she strokes Quinn's hair comfortingly. Quinn has barely been verbal since they left the meeting with Beth. They got some dinner before heading back to the apartment. Santana is out, probably hanging out with her work friend (she's implied that they're hooking up, but Rachel can never be sure if Santana is exaggerating), and Kurt appears to be in his bedroom, probably needing to wind down by himself after a photo shoot in the afternoon. So Rachel just took Quinn into her bedroom so that they could have a quiet, safe space for Quinn to try to process her afternoon.

Quinn's a very withdrawn person, and Rachel knows this. She knows it's entirely possible Quinn won't want or be able to talk about her feelings from the afternoon tonight. She might need some more time to process them, or even to decide what she actually wants to share with Rachel. Rachel hopes that someday Quinn won't be so apt to hide most of her feelings from her, but their relationship is still new, maybe a month and a half old, and more than half of that time they've been apart. They're still learning how to trust each other with their innermost thoughts and feelings.

So she strokes Quinn's hair, and broods.

She feels kind of selfish, but these past few weeks, she has felt like she's made sacrifices for Quinn that Quinn hasn't even acknowledged. She'd allowed Quinn to list them as "in a relationship" on Facebook even though she's still struggling with what that means personally and professionally, and who can know. She's still that girl who, a month and a half ago, imagined herself with a woman for the big, scary public moments that define relationships and quailed, and no matter how strongly she feels about Quinn, these things still scare her a little. The Facebook fiasco had probably created an even bigger rift between her and Finn, which makes her sad, because she really does want to be his friend again someday. And now, the thing with Beth…even though she knows she invited herself along, and knows she purposely left Quinn alone with Beth and approached Shelby, she still feels a little bitter.

Seeing Shelby had hurt. She couldn't help that her eye was drawn to Shelby, prone to picking out every feature she had in common with her. She couldn't help the stirring of her heart upon seeing the mother she had always wondered so much about, had always dreamed of knowing. And she couldn't help reminding herself that having any kind of relationship with her mother would never happen. It would be too painful. There was too much of a risk of being abandoned again.

While Quinn had played with Beth, she and Shelby had talked, awkwardly. Rachel had asked how Beth was, Shelby had asked her how school was going, how she and Quinn were doing. She had been remarkably unfazed by their relationship, which Rachel appreciated, and she had asked how long they had been together. It was nice enough telling Shelby about Quinn and about school. That was conversation that was easy.

Then, she'd asked Shelby about her work, and discovered that Shelby was acting again. She was giving private voice lessons during the day, and was in an off-Broadway production of an original show in the evenings. She had made some good connections, and was already being considered for the lead in a revival of Hello, Dolly!. Rachel quashes her own jealousy and congratulates Shelby on her success, knowing that this has been Shelby's dream as much as her own.

She'd also gotten Shelby's address from her. When she'd asked, Shelby had looked a bit shocked, and then she'd explained, "Because Beth's birthday is coming up, and I know Quinn would like to send her something." Shelby's expression had mellowed, and she'd dug around in her tote bag to find some paper and a pencil in order to write it down for Rachel. Rachel was relieved that she hadn't asked for a phone number to text it.

But just before Shelby had made her departure, she'd look at Rachel and said, "So, we live in the same city, now." Rachel had nodded, stiffly, suspicions already rising. "Maybe…" Shelby said slowly, "we could work on building a better relationship. I have missed out on the opportunity to be your mother, but…perhaps I could still be a friend of some kind. A confidant. A mentor, even. After all, as long as you're dating Quinn, I'm certain we'll be seeing each other around."

Rachel had stared for a moment, trying to quash her own hope, trying not to show any outward signs of her own anxiety. Eventually, she'd just shrugged. "Maybe," she'd conceded.

Shelby had nodded, as if that was the answer she'd expected, and had then told Quinn and Beth that it was time to leave. And though Rachel has tried to remain unaffected for the rest of the evening, tried to contain her own turmoil to help Quinn, she's been stewing over it all evening. Was it a genuine offer? Was it one born of business, of professional interest? Was Shelby more interested in her as a possible connection in the business than as a daughter—no, never as a daughter, as a friend, or protégé, or whatever kind of relationship she has imagined for them.

And what does Rachel want? Because it's true, if she continues to date Quinn, she will probably end up seeing more of Shelby. She isn't going to want to skip these meetings that are so important to Quinn. She isn't going to want to miss watching Quinn's daughter grow up, in leaps and bounds, from the likely relatively sporadic visits.

She doesn't know. She wants to talk about it, sort of, but she doesn't want to take Quinn out of the place where she got to see Beth and hold Beth and play with Beth and talk to Beth and…

Quinn shivers a little in her arms. Her eyes are closed. "Are you asleep?" Rachel whispers softly.

Quinn opens her eyes, "No," she breathes, and smiles up at Rachel. "No, I'm pretty awake. Thank you for coming with me today, by the way."

Rachel smiles, feeling that it's a little forced. "You're welcome. I'm glad you had a reason to come see me this weekend. I've missed you."

Quinn wraps her arm a little tighter around Rachel's middle. "Me, too."

They fall silent again for a little while, just breathing together in the bedroom. Quinn has buried her face a little bit more into Rachel's shoulder, her eyes are squeezed shut again. Rachel continues to stroke her hair, continues to think, continues to try to push aside her thoughts and just be happy to have Quinn with her, in her arms. It's hard, because she has always been the type to let her feelings burst out, but right now, she cares so much about Quinn that she needs to wait to tell Quinn her thoughts.

"I think," Quinn finally says softly, "I think I may have realized something recently."

"Yeah?" Rachel asks, a little distracted. "What?"

Quinn takes a breath, and her eyes are open now, focusing on the closet door across the room. "I'm really not used to things going well for me," she begins, and Rachel pushes her own thoughts away to really listen. Quinn is sharing herself. "Experience has taught me that I should never feel proud or hopefully because something will happen soon that will destroy those feelings, but…this is the first time in a long time that my life hasn't felt like an impending nightmare. I somehow have been lucky enough to be dating you, something I dreamed about but never thought was remotely possible. My mother accepts me, and has really, really done well trying to learn the right ways to be supportive. I accept that my father and I may always be estranged, and that it's up to him if we'll ever speak again. I…I have Beth back in my life, and when I look at her, I no longer feel like I have to blame Puck for anything, because I've made peace with my decision to sleep with him, and with the mistakes we both made. I feel right with God. I've made peace with Finn. I've even reached an understanding with Stephanie." She shakes her head against Rachel's chest. "Inside, I feel overwhelmed by all this goodness. By everything good that's happened to me since I came out. I mean, for so many kids, coming out is the nightmare. For me, it's been like waking up."

"Yeah," Rachel smiles, and it's genuine this time. She really is happy for Quinn, and she has to admit, her own coming out had been rife with some angst, but so far, it's been relatively painless. She does know that so far, she's glad that she's done it, and only hopes that more pieces of her coming out process with bring good.

"It's not like I'm not still scared," Quinn confesses, "There are scary things about coming out, because you're never really finished coming out, and I'm afraid of the times when it might be bad. I'm afraid, still, of us breaking each others' hearts, because I realize it's a thing that can happen. But mostly…I'm just relieved to be out."

Rachel nods, and wonders if, one day, she'll be more relieved to be with a woman than scared some people might find out.

"And you're incredible. What you did for me today…the way you faced Shelby so that I could see Beth…just, thank you, so much. So I guess what I'm trying to say is…I take back what I said before. Maybe I'm still riding some kind of high, having so many things go my way right now, but…if I had a choice, I'd choose this. I'd choose us. I'd choose to be gay, because right now, being gay is the best things in my life, because it's brought me you, and so much more."

Rachel's heart absolutely melts, and just like that, her angst is abruptly gone, as she feels the words sink into her. As she feels the feelings they both share grow in the air around them like a static charge. "I'd choose you, too," she murmurs, knowing that, in spite of her fears, it is true. She's always chosen Quinn, in one way or another.

Quinn raises her head off Rachel's shoulder and is peering into her eyes. Rachel smiles at her slowly, and Quinn leans forward to connect their lips.

The kiss seems to awaken Rachel's body, like a jolt of adrenaline. She's aware of the way her heartbeat gets stronger, of the way her limbs wake up from their relaxed state, and of the way her mouth moves with Quinn's, purposefully. Quinn shifts her body, moving it to cover Rachel's a little more, and changing the angle of the kiss so that she's more in control. Rachel lets her control the kiss for a little while, before lifting a hand to grasp the hair on the back of her head to tilt her head a different way, taking control of the kiss herself. In response, Quinn straddles her hips.

It's not messy, yet. It's slow and full of feelings. Rachel feels like her heart might burst, not the powerful beats of her body when it's charged with lust, but the steady beats inside her body when she feels like she's truly connected to another person. The steady beats of scary words that sometimes exist in her head but that can't yet be spoken.

They continue kissing, their bodies heating up, playfully wresting control from each other for several minutes, until they're both kneading at breasts over clothes, and Rachel is running her hands down Quinn's back to grab at her ass. Quinn pulls away to regard Rachel with heavy-lidded, darkened eyes, "Maybe you should take off your dress," she murmurs.

"Only if you do," Rachel smirks.

Quinn seems to hesitate for a second, but then she, too, is smirking, and stands up off the bed. Rachel half rises, watching, her body fully pounding with emotion. She hasn't forgotten the way she was feeling earlier, she hasn't forgotten her angst and her concerns, but Quinn thanking her, and Quinn letting her know just how special she is…most of those concerns have been overridden by the strong feelings for Quinn that feel like they flood her chest, and the burn of arousal now coursing through her veins.

Quinn stands, then turns around and reaches around her body to begin pulling the zipper down. It looks awkward, and Rachel wants to get up and help, but Quinn glances over her shoulder in a way that tells Rachel to stay where she is, and manages, with some awkward reaching, to pull the dress's zipper down to the middle of her back.

She glances over her shoulder at Rachel again, expression both vulnerable and mischievous, and then lets the dress fall to pool at her feet.

Rachel stares at her back, at the dip over her spine, at the bones and muscles of her shoulders, at the way her hips flare dramatically. She stares at Quinn's light blue boy shorts over her voluptuous rear, riding up a little on her strong thighs. She stares at the strap of Quinn's matching blue bra and wonders vaguely if her underclothes always match, the way Rachel's so often do. Stares at the pale flesh, searching for scars since covered by healing and surgery, searching for an ironic tattoo long since removed. How strange that Quinn's flesh has left high school behind, when the rest of both of them still hold on just a little.

Quinn turns around, looking uncertain now, her arms simply hanging to her sides and if she's not sure what to do with them, as if she's resisting the urge to cross them over her body. Rachel just stares, just appreciates the way Quinn's body looks. Her stomach and hipbones and the hint of abs. The strong-looking arms and hands and thighs and calves.

Seeming embarrassed by the scrutiny, Quinn gestures to Rachel. "Your turn," she murmurs.

Rachel takes a deep breath and then scoots to the edge of the bed. She lifts the skirt up and then wrestles the rest of the dress up and over her head and lets it fall to the floor next to Quinn's.

She feels Quinn's eyes on her, with the same intensity she's sure her own had. She watches as they dart, and Rachel feels oddly self-conscious because she's sitting, so her stomach and legs are certainly not as flattering as Quinn's were, so she stands in front of her and, chuckling a little, gives a little slow spin.

Quinn isn't chuckling, though. She's enjoying everything, that's clear. The mood in the room becomes heavy with passion again almost immediately, and Rachel feels her breath hitch in her throat a little as she watches Quinn's eyes.

Quinn moves forward then, slowly, and wraps her arms around Rachel, and then leans down to kiss her. Rachel arches up and kisses back, and these kisses are faster, messier, wilder. Quinn gently coaxes her to sit back on the bed and then straddles her lap. Her fingers are playing with the bra clasps until Rachel murmurs assent, and then Quinn unhooks the bra, helps Rachel slide her arms out of the straps, and drops it on the floor.

For several moments, Quinn is just kissing her, the same as she was before, her hands smoothing over the bare skin of Rachel's back. She's soon coaxing Rachel to lie down and only then does she actually place her hand, slowly and almost reverently, on one of Rachel's bare breasts.

Rachel allows Quinn's mouth and hands to worship her breasts for what feels like a long time. And, well, worship is the only word she can think of to describe the specific attention to passion Quinn puts into the acts. Rachel feels like her body is aflame with lust, her mind exploding with powerful feelings. But soon she's drawing Quinn to her, pressing their mouths together, and reaching around Quinn's body to remove her bra.

There's a moment of hesitation, the moment that Quinn's bra falls to the floor beside the bed. They're facing each other, both in just their panties, and it's scarily intimate. Quinn's eyes are searching her face, clearly excited, but also worried that they're going to far, moving too fast. All Rachel knows is that this is much more arousing than any other intimate experience she's had, and she's never been more sure that her feelings for Quinn go far beyond friendship.

She meets Quinn's eyes and, seeking to reassure her, tells her lowly, "Do you have any idea how often I've touched myself thinking about you?"

Quinn looks taken aback for a moment, and then her gaze turns inward, and Rachel can see her throat working. "Yeah?" she whispers raspily.

"Yes," Rachel confesses. "Even the other week, before your break ended, the only reason I went to the shower was to touch myself. I just…had to. I've never wanted something so badly yet known so well that I wasn't ready for it." She thinks about the times she contemplated sex before, with Jesse, with Finn. Even though the idea excited her both times, and she had enjoyed sex with Finn, for what it was, these contemplations awakened much more apprehension than anticipation. Partly, she's sure, because she's always been very aware of the risks carried by penetrative sex with men, both physical and emotional; her fathers had ensured that her sex education was more than adequate. Sex with women didn't have all the same cultural baggage, although it was still an extremely emotionally charged prospect. Hence her hesitation. That, and her knowledge that it was too soon. They were so young, they were still learning about each other. They were still learning to comprehend their desires to touch other actual women intimately—very different, Rachel now knows, than any fantasy.

Quinn watches her for a moment, then glances away, "I know exactly how you feel. I…enjoyed my shower, too."

Rachel's body feels like it's heating up all over again, and she exhales in a rush of hot breath. "Oh, wow," she murmurs. Quinn's still looking away, her face twisted a little in embarrassment. Rachel touches her chin gently and kisses her. "Don't. That's so sexy."

"It feels silly to talk about," Quinn mutters, still not meeting Rachel's eyes.

"Why? It's perfectly natural that we do this."

Quinn shakes her head awkwardly, but not to negate Rachel's words. "I'm…new at it. Still getting used to it being a normal thing, I guess. I still have to fight the shame, a little."

Rachel smiles sadly. "Oh, Quinn," she murmurs, "Think of it as making love to yourself. There can't be anything wrong with that."

Quinn snorts and shakes her head, "That's a hard thing to do, when I've only so recently started learning how to love myself, too."

She knows her expression is still sad. She thinks about Quinn telling her awkwardly that she unwillingly watched Stephanie masturbate at the beginning of the year, and how shaken she was by the experience. So she draws Quinn to her and kisses her.

They're kissing for awhile, hands and mouths all over each others' upper bodies. Rachel thinks vaguely to the way they both had been so reluctant to allow boys to touch them here. Maybe it's because they're a little older, a little more secure, that they've moved this far already, and their bodies—at least Rachel's—want them to go further. Several minutes of topless kisses and breast exploration and Rachel's clit feels like a heart all on its own. "Have you ever thought about me touching myself?" she asks abruptly, thinking, now, that she'll certainly have to tonight.

Quinn flushes at these words, which is answer enough, but a tiny nod confirms it.

"What if I…showed you?"

Quinn's mouth parts a little, and her eyes are huge. "What, tonight?" she asks, her voice a forced casual like, oh, let me check my schedule.

Rachel just nods emphatically, "I'm going to have to touch myself tonight. I could…show you…a little bit anyway."

"Oh…oh my God," Quinn murmurs, "I…I don't even know…what…"

"I don't think I'm ready to remove these," Rachel bites her lip as she gestures to her panties, "But…I could leave them on…show you everything else."

Quinn stares at her with hungry eyes, and clears her throat softly, "If you do…I'm sure I will end up doing the same."

The pulse between Rachel's legs quickens. "I…that would be…yes." She looks at Quinn, studies her face, tries to clear her own lust clouded thoughts. "I know this is…this is kind of big. We're kind of advancing the sexual aspect of our relationship through leaps and bounds. If this is too much…"

Quinn hesitates, too, and appears to really think about it. She nods to herself, "I think…I think I'm ready for this. There are things I know I'm not ready for because I'm not comfortable fantasizing about them yet. But you touching yourself…I've thought about that a lot." She bites her lip a little. "I'm still…inexperienced touching myself. I feel so crazy right now that I want to, but…I don't know. I might not…finish."

"That's okay," Rachel assures, "I just want you to be comfortable. If any of this becomes uncomfortable, we can stop, okay?"

Quinn shivers a little, "I don't think I'll be stopping you. I don't think I can let you finish yourself off in the shower if I know I could watch you do it. I'm just worried about like…me."

"Lie down next to me," Rachel instructs, pulling Quinn toward her. Quinn lies down on her left, and there's barely room for them both, shoulder to shoulder, on the little twin bed. Rachel turns her head to kiss Quinn, and look into her eyes. "I want to watch your face most of all," Rachel murmurs, moving her head away from Quinn's enough so that she can focus on her. "And your hand, of course. This way…we can both see a lot, but not…not too much."

Quinn's eyes are racing up and down Rachel's body, and Rachel takes a deep breath and moves her hand to rest on her hip. Quinn is watching it with fervent fascination. Rachel takes another giddy breath and slides her hand just under the elastic of her panties and moves her hand down.

"OhmyGod," Quinn says, rushed, all one word.

"I'm so…" Rachel trails off, knowing they both know what she wants to say, but not quite able to say it.

"Fuck," Quinn says, uncharacteristically coarse, as Rachel closes her eyes and begins to stroke herself, spreading moisture. She hears movement from Quinn, feels the arm next to her shift, and opens her eyes to see that Quinn's hand is in her own panties, not yet moving, but there.

Rachel moans in response to the sight, and her eyes move back to Quinn's face. Quinn is biting her lip, her face eager and uncertain all at once, and Rachel feels her hand begin to move more purposefully.

She works up a practiced rhythm, but purposefully keeps it slow. As much as Quinn thinks she might not come, Rachel wants to give her time to get off. She knows she could probably make herself come in only a few minutes, the way she's feeling right now. But she holds back. She slows her hand, she turns to look at Quinn.

Quinn's eyes are closed, and she's still biting her lip a little. Her hand is moving, a little, slowly, uncertainly. When Rachel turns her head, Quinn opens her eyes and looks at her. She looks worried and excited all at once.

"You look so good," Rachel murmurs.

Quinn seems to stop breathing and swallows. "So do you," she finally murmurs back.

"How do you feel?" Rachel asks, her hand moving more quickly, unconsciously.

Quinn doesn't say anything for a long while, and Rachel watches the way her hand moves, a bit more purposefully. Finally, she murmurs. "Soft. Wet."

"Oh," Rachel murmurs.

For several long minutes, they're both just breathing together, hands working. Sometimes their eyes are closed, sometimes they're looking at each other, but they aren't saying much.

And then, Quinn is abruptly arching, gasping, holding her breath to keep quiet. Rachel watches hungrily, so engrossed that her hand has actually stopped moving. It's beautiful. It's incredible. It's Quinn Fabray with her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth hanging open, her hand struggling to keep up with her bucking hips, her tightening thighs.

Quinn lays back, relaxing, her eyes still closed, and Rachel's hand starts moving again. "That was…" she gasps, "Oh, God. Can I…touch?"

Quinn eyes open, wary, "What? Not…not inside."

"No," Rachel pants, her body coiling, "No, just…outside. Your panties."

"…Okay," Quinn agrees, and Rachel reaches her hand over to place her palm over the outside of Quinn's panties.

When she feels how hot and wet the area is, her orgasm rushes into her body, and she's moaning, thrashing, struggling to keep up, her hand still staying on Quinn, feeling the hot warmth through the underpants. Just the thought of it seems to make her come harder.

When she finally relaxes, Quinn is staring at her, eyes bright and anxious. Rachel moves both her hands slowly, wiping her wet fingers on her panties, and gathers her thoughts. "Wow," is all she can say.

Quinn nods fervently, "Yeah. Wow."

"That was…exactly what I needed." Quinn nods, and Rachel asks, "Was it okay? What I did at the end?"

Quinn seems to hesitate for a moment. "I was uncertain, but…yeah. It was…I liked that you came while touching me, sort of."

"Yeah," Rachel smiles, "I just…I needed to feel you right then."

Quinn says nothing, but curls up and puts her head back on Rachel's shoulder. Rachel strokes her hair again. Before too long, they drift off to sleep that way.

.
They would protest the cross around their necks
.

Quinn doesn't want to, but she heads back to New Haven on Sunday, the morning after she and Rachel…get off together. It had been exhilarating and terrifying, but Quinn has to admit, satisfying. It's still weird and huge and overwhelming, but she has no regrets.

There's something about Rachel's frank treatment of sexuality that used to put Quinn on edge, but now puts her at ease. A week ago, Quinn is sure that she'd never have been able to imagine touching herself in front of Rachel, but it happened. It happened because of a mixture of wild hormones and Rachel just being Rachel.

But one reason she needs to head back is because it's the last week of actual classes, and she has some final papers to write. Her Feminism seminar essay is the one she's kind of looking forward to the least, but it's due early in the week, so she tackles it first.

The main reason she isn't looking forward to it is because it's a personal essay. It's hard for her to put her past and personal convictions out there, and this assignment asks a lot: "Write an essay chronicling your approach to feminism throughout your life (even if, after this class, you still don't identify as feminist)." This is the kind of question Quinn doesn't want to answer. Questions about her past, about her beliefs, about her personal life.

But she should. Because opening up to people has actually been beneficial recently in her life.

She thinks, again, about the parts of her relationship with Rachel that still scare her. No longer that Rachel can't really love her; the longer the relationship goes on, and the more time they talk and spend time together, and even, strangely, the closer they get physically, the more sure she is about Rachel's feelings. That last part is a surprise. She'd expected to feel more scared by Rachel's physical desire for her; after all, Rachel's physical and sexual attraction has been the surest thing about this relationship.

No, it's other things now. It's their future, their longevity. What scares her now, and she doesn't want to tell Rachel this, that she might hold Rachel back.

Rachel has always wanted her leading man. Her dreams never involved a woman who was more comfortable swaying in the background. And her dreams aren't limited to the relatively open culture of Broadway. Rachel wants the EGOT. Rachel wants to work in the somewhat terrifying culture of Hollywood.

Quinn doesn't want to be the thing that keeps Rachel from her dreams. Not when there are leading men out there Rachel could want.

But at the same time, she's selfish. And even all these fears can't tear her away from needing to do whatever she can possibly do when her own dream of loving Rachel could come true.

But aside from this dark secret, Quinn supposes there is little about her life that she needs to keep totally secret in an essay one person will read. She can be honest in this essay.

It reminds her, weirdly, about the essay she wrote to get into Yale, in which she talked about the hard parts of her teenage years, and how she struggled through and kept on Honor Roll because she knew she wanted a great future. It's not as though Yale doesn't already know some of her dark secrets. This is the same thing: displaying her pain and embarrassment to get good results from someone else's empathy.

It's hard not to see it that way, anyway.

And to her surprise, once she sits down to actually write it, the words spill out, and she writes about a lot—her conservative attitudes in early high school, parroted from her father and, less so, from her mother. The way it forced her to be closeted, to look at sex negatively, to scrutinize her own body and desire to try to be "normal" and "good." And how these attitudes forced her to become so desperate to feel normal that she slept with Puck, without the knowledge or control of responsible birth control, and spiraled her life out of control.

She writes about getting kicked out of the house and wallowing in despair without thinking much about how maybe her father's views got her into such a situation. About how Carole Hudson had sparked the idea in her mind when she had told Quinn that she was really proud of Finn for taking responsibility for what happened, because this shouldn't be something Quinn should have to face alone and in shame. Quinn was angry at first, because she had been kicked out and sure as hell felt like she was bearing the brunt of everything, with the way her body was changing, and guilty, because it wasn't his, but Finn's support did help, and she had to admit he could have gotten away with doing nothing for her. Also watching Carole, a single woman doing her best to raise her boy without a man in her life, made Quinn question whether the father/mother household she came from and had been kicked out of was truly best. Because the bond between Finn and his mother was palpable and strong, and watching them interact with respect on a daily basis was new. This wasn't a system of parental dominance—though Carole certainly had more influence over Finn—they were a team.

She writes about how she started looking into it. How she started getting angry, when she learned about the ways women were oppressed, paid less, treated as property throughout history, despite all the pain and responsibility of childbirth they were forced to have. And about how when she lived with Mercedes, she started to think more about race, started to get angry about racism and realizing it wasn't dead. She started to feel guilty, about the way she had treated Rachel, the slurs she threw at her, the way she had been repulsed by her because her fathers were gay. She started to let go of her attitudes, quietly, still unable to bring herself to be nice to the girl she had such conflicting feelings about. But she kept her closet, locked away, too afraid to see what was inside it. Yet she was changing. She was discovering. And when her mom took her back, and her father's secret affair was revealed, she'd felt vindicated. He hadn't been right about anything after all.

She writes about Santana and Brittany, and how she knew they had feelings for each other, and it terrified her. She writes about her mother taking her back, and trying to learn to trust each other again, and how odd it was to watch her mother go to work, and how that made her feel. She writes about the pain of giving up Beth, and the realization that it was most important to give her a good life, and her realization that although abortion was not a choice she could make, she could understand why some women would need to. She writes about watching Rachel and Finn try to get married while so young, and all the reasons she didn't want it to happen. She writes about her suspicions that the ways she was feeling were "wrong," the slow realization that she is gay, the slow process of coming out. She writes about wrestling with her faith, her realizations that there was no evidence that God would have anything but love for queer people. She writes about her anger at the men in her life, and how she had to wrestle with her feelings, that she could love the men in her life, but not love them. How being at Yale, away from where she grew up, was helping her realize her potential, and helping her become a better, smarter person.

She even writes about therapy, and how having the chance to talk openly about her life has helped her learn to love herself again. How she's still working on that part.

She writes about Rachel. About how learning how to express her feelings for Rachel were helping her connect with herself, and continue to learn to love herself. How being with Rachel was strange and scary and new and wonderful and convincing Quinn more every day that being a woman—being a woman with a woman—was wonderful.

She finishes the essay in record time. She's sure it's not the most coherent piece, but it's true, and scary. She just puts it away and doesn't look at it, even though her instincts tell her to proofread it, at least. But she can't. It's out there, and she won't let herself second-guess her decision to tell all.

She thinks, then, that she should probably let one other person read this: her therapist.

And someday, maybe, Rachel.

A/N: Chapter titles from "Feelin' Good" made famous by Nina Simone, Jonsi, "Do Good," Radiohead, "Street Spirit (Fade Out)," Neutral Milk Hotel, "Two Headed Boy," and Iron & Wine "Carousel."