Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of its characters. I do own Maria Arioso, however :)

A/N: Hey hey, long time no read. Sorry, I've had a bit of a crummy month. My beloved pet passed away at the start, a family member fell ill in the middle, and I had to work with my Trumpet section feverishly on some new charts for a split second performance toward the end. Thank you for all your lovely patience. This chapter, Maria is going to act as a bit of an accelerator in events. She has this uncanny ability to make people speak their thoughts since they trust her. A bit of a frenemy-ship will be established, and things will move forward a bit on the faberry end.

I had to get this out to all you wonderful people before our Ensemble got busy again. Thank you for your love, support, and your lovely comments. I fixed up my Tumblr a bit so you can use the Askbox or if you'd all just like to communicate :) Link to my tumblr's on my profile. I'd love a review or two as well… because, well… As many of my fellow writers in the Glee fandom say (and so does our lovely Rachel Berry)… I need applause to live.

Thanks to thetamarine, faberrydragon, Alex, redashford, HolyLemonz, BleachedBlonde-ResidentCrazy, Nighlancer600, Directions, Tay, DAgron01, gleefulness, Denethion, iamirreplazable, Freyia, shoestring potato, Music and Reading Lover, HighwayMagickUnicorn, feintidea, FeelingGrey, aquarius127, Lexi-Nicole21, 98forever, Musicfutbolfan6, ths3836, ch3lsk0, Princesakarlita411, maxgirl452, tangle of emptiness, anon, smartblonde317, karlymrrig, bernardowss, imaferrari, gayarm-agron, Readsalot86, Cassie Noir, Athyna DaughterofPosiedon, w1cked, JDH714, missunheard, fussyviolet, obsessediwthdianna, sachiiko yuri, Alerted, Question: Wups, I fixed it, don't worry :) It's TWO weeks, Jayke, 1221, lemon-rind, Sam Loveless, christmasinpurple, and vvv for their amazing, lovely support.

Enjoy :)

Chapter 13: Drawing It Forth

Pain sparked in Rachel's ribs, making her grunt angrily, pulling flannel covers tighter against her body and settling back into the comfortable mattress for the long haul.

"Rach-eeelllll…"

Tanned lids squeezed tight, lips frowning as she flipped over, burying her face into the sinfully soft pillows.

"Raaacheeeelllll… cooomeeeee onnnnn…."

A finger jabbed Rachel squarely in the side once more, eliciting a pained groan. A single chocolate eye grouchily opened to a disgustingly smug smirk and bright red hair.

Maria chuckled as a tint of stubborn red bled its way into warm brown, turning it steely with irritation as a relaxed brow furrowed. "Well ain't you a grouch in the morning, Smurfity smurf."

Rachel sighed, closing her eyes in exasperation as her disoriented mind worked quickly to stitch bits of her memory back into place.

School… Bad choreography, whining and complaining about Sectionals…

Maria.

She froze. 'Right.'

Maria was here. In her home. In Lima, Ohio.

"What in the world do you want, M?" Rachel mumbled, yawning. "And for God's sake-."

Another poke landed squarely between the ribs, sending a startled squeak between Rachel's teeth. "Don't take the name of the Lord in Vain."

"Hypocrite," brown eyes opened to glare upon Maria's lively, grinning features. "Aren't you?"

"Not really," the redhead hummed happily in response before tossing a bundle of clothes in a startled Rachel's face. "Now get up or you're going to be late for school."

"Late for school?" Rachel's brow furrowed in confusion. "My alarm hasn't even rung yet. You got me up early, idiot."

"Alarm?" Maria tilted her head in confusion. Her eyes lightened after a few moments of straight thinking. "Oh, you mean that annoying ass Heroine Den shit you had blaring out of your radio this morning? That rang…" She looked briefly at the iHome at the side of the bed. "Thirty minutes ago."

"W-what?" Rachel's gaze snapped toward the glowing digits. 7:00. "DAMNIT!"

She threw the covers back, stumbling as the blanket caught her foot, grabbing the roll of clothing and sprinting into the adjoining bathroom. "What the hell did you do to my alarm, M?"

"I didn't do anything," Maria called, inserting a silvery ring through her lip, running her tongue over the newly inserted piercing. "The damn thing woke me at whatever ungodly hour you set it at and your ass didn't rise with it."

"And you couldn't have woken me up?"

"No," She fastened a growling, silver wolf to one ear with practiced ease. "You would not be moved, smurf. You continued to drool on the pillow past 6:10."

"You didn't even try, did you?" There was a slight pause. "…Was it really necessary to pick out the tightest jeans I own, M?"

"You have a sexy ass, Rach," Black eyeliner drew heavy lines about steel blue eyes. "You might as well accentuate it. I don't know why your best pair of jeans are sitting all lonesome at the bottom of your drawer."

"I hate them," Rachel hopped out of the bathroom, shoving a pair of socks on each foot. "And you know it."

"You love them," Maria countered, smearing smoky eye shadow across each lid. She turned away from the large mirror mounted atop Rachel's mahogany dresser, a smirk playing across her lips. "See? Better already."

"More like sluttier already," Rachel murmured, pulling at the tight fitting white tank clinging uncomfortably about her person.

Rachel had never been terribly fond of tight, revealing clothing.

Before San Diego, she had often sported extremely short skirts and the occasional busty sweater, but she had always considered herself a lover of modest (Rachel found that Carousel printed sweaters and argyle sweater vests often killed the 'sluttiness' of her ensemble) clothing.

Being friends with Maria had certainly opened her up to new clothing. Before their friendship, she'd never owned a single pair of jeans (her first pair had been a rather baggy pair of carpenter jeans from Levi's) or t-shirt.

But the older she became, the more aware of boys' lecherous glances she became, and the less revealing her clothes became.

Maria pushed her. Forced her to buy the occasional low-cut shirt, short skirt, or tight jean just to have. And yes, Rachel used what Maria purchased her on more than one occasion (school parties, mostly). But nothing could defeat the comfort of a loose fitting shirt and a slightly baggy pair of wash worn jeans.

"Tighter does not mean sluttier, smurf," Maria countered. "It means owning your assets and using them to the greatest advantage." She studied Rachel with a smile. "You look good."

"And you look like you're breaking about a million dress code rules," Rachel motioned up and down her friend's figure. "Could your tank be any more translucent?"

"It's not that sheer," Maria argued, throwing a short sleeved, plaid shirt over her shoulders, leaving the front unbuttoned. A shadow of tanned skin shown through the white, clinging fabric.

"Sure, if that's what you want to believe," Rachel wrapped her scarf 'round her throat and threw her jacket over her shoulders. She paused as she grabbed the soft, buttery leather of her messenger bag strap. "Why are you getting ready anyway, M? You're only coming to practice."

"You want me to sit here in your room all day," Maria gestured about the sparsely furnished room with a heavily ringed hand, "then walk all the way down to your High School just to yell at New Infections for an hour about failing?"

"Yes?" The guitarist said questioningly. She scowled as Maria quirked a disbelieving eyebrow at her. "Well you can't just follow me around all day!" She started down the stairs, throwing her bag over her shoulder.

"I can't?"

"No, of course you can't," Rachel grabbed her keys off the hook near the front door, striding into the kitchen. Leroy looked up from his morning paper, silvery eyes fluttering between his daughter as she grabbed a bagel from the toaster and her best friend.

"She can't what, sweetheart?" he asked, placing The Daily Bean on the table, taking a sip from a steaming mug of coffee.

"Follow her around school for two weeks," Maria responded, snatching the other half of the bagel from the toaster. She took a healthy bite of it, shrugging. "I think it'd be an excellent opportunity for me to stay caught up on schoolwork and support her. Don't you think, Mr. J?"

"Dad," Rachel placed a hand on the smooth granite of the counter, looking toward her father seriously. "It's not alright, is it?" A begging glint tinted chocolate colored eyes.

Maria stirred up the pot enough yesterday. The whole of the Glee Club (though Brittany and Tina seemed to have taken a bit of a liking toward her for some inexplicable reason) seemed infuriated by Maria's antics. It had been a miracle that they even agreed to take her direction.

School had already proven detrimental to Rachel's sanity. She knew and acknowledged that she was already a magnet for drama and McKinley was an epicenter for drama in itself.

Rachel had gotten the hang of navigating her extraordinarily complicated life. She didn't need more badly penned television drama hijinks added to her life.

Maria would definitely alter the script in a less than desirable way.

Surely Leroy would understand.

"Actually sweetheart," Leroy smiled. "I went ahead and spoke with Principal Figgins the other day. He thought it'd be a splendid idea."

Rachel groaned, dropping her shoulders in defeat.

Or maybe he wouldn't.

"Hola, bienvenidos, class!" Mr. Schue strode into the room with his characteristic smile smeared across his lips. "Today we'll be going over…"

"The subjunctive," Tina and Rachel murmured in unison, knocking each other in the shoulder, looking to each other knowingly.

"The subjunctive!" He clapped his hands together, going over to the projector and flipping it on to another version of the last dozen PowerPoints he'd given them.

"The subjunctive?" Maria stated wryly, leaning against their shared desk with a bored lilt to voice. "You're only on the subjunctive? …And your class is taught in English?"

"Unfortunately, they don't have a Señor Cortez on campus," Rachel sighed, clicking her pen slowly, throwing an apologetic glance toward her friend.

"We're a little slow on languages," Tina explained succinctly.

"I can see that," Maria said, eyes running over the first slide of the presentation. "And your teacher has a Wexican accent."

"...Wexican accent?" Tina questioned, gaze flickering between the two friends.

"His accent is very wexican," Rachel elaborated.

"…Wexican?"

"White?" Maria dropped her arm, looking at the girl disbelievingly. "White? Mexican? You know? His accent is very gringo." She blinked. "You've never heard that term before?"

"Uhmm…" Tina shrugged pitifully. "…No?"

Maria shook her head. "Oh, you poor child… So much we must teach you."

"Or not," Rachel murmured, resting her head on her folded arms. Maria's 'education' often included illegal activities and a healthy amount of alcohol, both of which Rachel was sure Tina could not handle.

"We'll start with a bit of Spanish music," Maria smiled, ignoring Rachel's side comment. "So which artists do you listen to?"

"In… Spanish?" Tina blinked. "…Uhmmm… None."

"None?" Maria's eyes widened. "No Miguel Bose? No Selena? …Amaral?"

"No," Tina's cheeks reddened.

"You've got to be shitting me," the Italian murmured in response. "This is an emergency. Sí, Rachel?"

"Claro," Rachel said boredly. The guitarist's spine straightened suddenly as a familiar chilling, nostalgic cocktail of emotions ran the length of her body. She sighed, shutting her eyes tiredly, making Maria's smile fall into a confused frown.

Maria's eyes drifted about the classroom, searching for the source of Rachel's strange behavior. She fought the upward twitch of her lips as she saw the green-tinted hazel orbs of that girl… Quinn, fastened on her friend's stiff shoulders.

'A cheerleader with a liking for helping the less fortunate,' Maria mused to herself. 'How… odd. I suppose a little research wouldn't hurt. Note to self: ask about blondie before the day is out.'

Her eyes rolled. 'Or just ask now, since the teacher is fucking incapable of teaching higher conjugation.'

She turned to Rachel, clearing her throat. "I'm guessing your lack of 'I want to kill myself' slump's because of your girlfriend back there?" The words came out in a slow stream of well-pronounced, English tinted Spanish that made Tina's eyes widen in surprise.

Rachel glared. "She's not my girlfriend, M. When are you going to understand that?"

"I'm never going to understand it," Maria said flatly, "because I'm right and you're wrong. Ready to buy me a Starbucks yet?"

"I'll buy you a coffee after school," Rachel hissed fluidly, "but not because you're right. Pay attention to lecture, since you were so eager to stalk me to school."

"We've already learned this shit in Profe's class, smurf," Maria said balefully. "Oh god, is he using a goddamned dictionary to look up how to say 'window?' Didn't we learn that one in Spanish I?" Maria shook her head, prodding her friend in the arm. "Anyway, how about you lay a little more history on me about this girl?"

"Didn't I tell you already?"

"Yeah, but just the bare bones."

"That's all you need."

"Ohhh come on, Rach," she prodded further. "You knooow you wanna."

"Not really," Rachel sighed. "Leave me be."

"You know I can do this all day."

"Leave me alone and I'll do something for you," Rachel responded, closing her eyes drowsily. Oh, she knew Maria could and WOULD do it.

Maria smirked. "You promise?"

"Sure."

"…Alright… Invite your girlfriend on our coffee date after school, then."

"WHAT?" Rachel hissed in outrage, prompting the entire class to gaze upon her, wide-eyed.

"Rachel," Mr. Schue slapped his laser pointer down upon his desk. "Is there something you'd like to contribute?"

'Crap,' Rachel cursed mentally, her cheeks reddening considerably as Maria chuckled.

"No, no, Mr. Schue. I just couldn't believe…" she searched for the right excuse. "…I just couldn't believe learning the subjunctive could be so… stimulating. I had an epiphany. Something just clicked."

A peal of choked laughter left Maria's left, following a pained yelp as Rachel kicked her shin.

"Oh," Schue's eyes lightened as a boyish smile fell across his lips. "I'm glad, Rachel. I'm really glad."

He turned back to the board with renewed vigor, starting to explain the next slide to the rest of the semi-conscious class.

Rachel turned a glare upon a pouting Maria.

"I am not inviting Quinn to drink coffee with us," Rachel responded, lowering her voice. "You'll probably end up embarrassing the crap out of me, just like you did right now. You're trouble, Arioso."

"You can't back out on a promise, Rachel. You know what happened the last time you backed out of a promise with me, hmm?" Maria said, blue orbs glinting threateningly.

Rachel shuddered as the memory played through her mind.

Oh, of course she remembered that one.

She'd promised to go shopping for winter formal dresses with Maria. It'd been a promise a week in the making, sealed with a pinky swear (they had this affinity for silly little girl promises, even though they were teenagers) and a round of tear-jerking vodka shots during one of her ex's (then boyfriend) parties.

A dance recital came up on said day and Rachel had been forced to cancel, much to a very irritable Maria's disappointment.

The favor had been paid back in the silent treatment, the sudden disappearance of Rachel's daily thermos of coffee, and an increase in the amount of troublesome boys asking for a date.

It had only taken three days for a complete apology.

Hell hath no fury like Maria scorned.

"…Fine," Rachel relented. "You win."

"I always do," Maria responded with a grin.

Rachel bit her tongue and stared stonily at the front of the room, waiting for the rest of the class to pass.

Time bled slowly forward, filled with the constant, annoying drone of Schue's voice and several sheets filled with hangman and tic-tac-toe. By the time the bell rang, the three of them had begun to finish a shared Sudoku puzzle (courtesy of Tina).

"Time to make good on your promise, smurf," Maria said as Rachel stood, adjusting her bag and holding her binder close to her chest.

Rachel glanced back at her friend with a questioning quirk to her brow. "What are you-."

The guitarist gave an undignified yelp as Maria gave her a healthy shove into the aisle.

She regained her footing as a warm, soft hand steadied her. Dread filled each pore as her eyes met the bright, blood red color of the Cheerios uniform.

Quinn.

"Are you alright, Rachel?" she asked softly, grasp still light on Rachel's arm.

"I'm alright, Quinn," Rachel managed with a nervous smile, straightening her clothing and tightening her grasp on her binder. Her stomach rolled uncomfortably. "Just a little off balance today."

"I can see that," Quinn smiled faintly, her hand trailing slowly down Rachel's arm and to her side, making a round of goosebumps emerge in their wake.

"Yeaaahhhh…" Rachel cleared her throat. "Uhmmm… I was wondering…"

"Mmmhmm?" the Cheerleader hummed.

"Maria and I are heading over to Starbucks after school," Rachel continued, seeing Maria gesture for her to go on in her periphery, "we were going to catch up and whatnot…"

She cleared her throat again. God, she could feel the sweat pour down her spine. "We wondered if you'd like to come with us, if you don't have practice or anything."

Rachel watched as Quinn's eyes lightened and a breathing taking smile exposed pearly white teeth to view. A light tinge of red took residence on Quinn's cheeks as she nodded, bright blonde locks bouncing in place. "I'd love to, Rachel… We'll meet by your locker after school?"

"Sure," Rachel said, releasing a lungful of air before smiling stiffly.

The two of them stood in awkward silence for several moments, tension heavy between them.

"Uhmmm, Rachel?" Quinn questioned softly, a slight sparkle of amused green prevalent in her ever changing eyes.

"Yeah?" the guitarist inquired confusedly.

"If I want to get to class…" the Cheerleader's cheeks reddened further, "I might need to get around you."

"Oh!" Rachel shook her head before hurriedly backing into the row, knocking an annoyed Maria and a confused Tina back. "I'm sorry!"

"It's alright," Quinn laughed, walking forward.

Just as she made it to the door, the Cheerleader turned on a sneakered heel, pausing and pivoting around. "Hey, Rachel?"

"U-uh, yeah?" The guitarist questioned.

"Do you mind if…" Quinn swallowed, before grasping her binder tighter against her chest. "Do you mind if Santana, Britt, and I join you all for lunch?"

"Oh, no," Rachel shook her head. "Of course not, right Tina?"

"Sure," the girl offered. "We don't mind at all."

"The more the fucking merrier, I say," Maria said with a bright grin.

Quinn's eyes darkened slightly, turning amber for a brief second as she looked wordlessly upon a light eyed Maria. Just as quickly, they changed the same light, iridescent green as she turned her gaze upon Rachel once more. A smile took residence on her lips again. "Alright, we'll see you then."

With another bright smile, Quinn turned on her heel and disappeared out the door, leaving a flustered Rachel, a confused Tina, and an amused Maria behind.

"This is a bit confusing," Tina murmured, looking to Maria.

"Really?" the redhead replied. "Because it's kinda clear to me."

Shoving her way past her friend, the girl started off down the hall. "Come on smurf, wouldn't want to be tardy for our next class?"

She started to sing beneath her breath as her arms locked behind her head and she stretched. "'Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match…'"

"Oh hellz no, Q."

Rachel should have foreseen this as a problem.

An angry eyed Santana stood, arms crossed, glaring daggers at a smirking Maria, Brittany rubbing her arm comfortingly as Quinn sat across the table from Rachel, next to Artie.

"San, it's one time," Quinn urged, motioning toward the empty space. "Don't you think you can bury the hatchet for forty –five minutes."

"Not if that," she pointed toward Maria, "is gonna be ats the table. You knows I'm all for showing charity toward the less fortunate, but that thing is a bit too unfortunate for mes to waste my time on."

"I wouldn't want your charity anyway," Maria replied easily, throwing a rye chip in her mouth and shrugging her shoulders. "It's not enough of a donation to make a huge damn difference in my loserdom."

"You know what," Santana spat, slamming her fist down on the table in front of an unflinching Irish-Italian. "You're sassy, every part of your visible body is mutilated, you'ze dressed like a stripper, and I really don't like you."

"You're dressed like a skank, are a high school stereotype, talk like a really unintimidating gangbanger, and are probably the most unwelcoming Latina I have ever met, and I don't like or dislike you," Maria responded, folding her hands in front of her. "But I'll tell you what, I'll play nice with you… Santana, was it? Let's have a little truce, and then after that, you can go back to pointlessly hating me, yes?"

"Why I ought to-."

"Santana," Rachel interrupted. "That's the best you're going to get out of her. You should be glad to get that out of her. Maria'll be nice… But please, sit down."

The Latina's jaw flexed before she gave an angry snort, pointing at Maria warningly. "Fine, I'll play nice for Q. But if that pendeja doesn't keep her word, I'll go Lima Heights Adjacent on her ass."

"Yo entiendo," Maria nodded, eliciting an amazed look from Santana. "I'll be good, Santana. You won't have to shank me for the next half hour or so."

"I've been dying to ask you all day, Maria," Artie started as everyone settled in. "Rachel didn't really tell us much about how everything was before she came here. Could you enlighten us a bit?"

"Reaaally?" Maria cocked a questioning brow as Rachel bowed her head lower, focusing on her sandwich. "Not a single thing?"

"Just that she was in choir before she came here," Tina said, "and a little bit about San Diego. But not much else."

"Yeah," Santana began. "Was Berry much of a partier or was she just as much of a little scrapper and prude then as she is now?"

"Scrapper?" Maria inquired confusedly.

"She didn't tell you?" Quinn blurted out, surprised.

"Tell me what exactly?" A warning note took residence in Maria's smoky voice, sending tremors of fear down Rachel's spine.

Oh God.

"At the beginning of the year Rachel taught some jocks a lesson," Tina smiled brightly, looking over at a rosy cheeked, shrinking Rachel. "They roughed her up, tried to slushy her, but Rachel questioned their integrity."

"Roughed her up, hmmm?" Maria's voice lowered.

"They hurt Rach's lip and knocked her against the lockers!" Brittany provided cheerfully. "But Q made 'em stop and San scared them off!"

"Well, I can't say Rachel was much of a… fighter," Rachel closed her eyes. They'd be discussing that later, and she was sure that she was going to regret it. "And she didn't party much. But when she did party, she definitely partied hardy."

"Berry?" Santana laughed. "Are we talking about the same person here?"

"Rachel just loves," Maria's voice quivered with merriment, "her beer and Sangria. Her boyfriends were only too happy to provide them for her."

"Ohhhhh, boyfriends," Santana smirked. "Plural."

God, hadn't they not been getting along mere moments ago? Where the hell did the hatred go? Suddenly having lunch with the 'Unholy Trio' didn't seem like such a good idea.

Rachel's eyes lifted. Quinn sat ramrod straight, curiously pale as she listened to each word fall from Maria's lips.

God, there went any trace of respect she'd earned.

"Rachel's had a pretty long line," Maria began, blues glinting mischievously, "of unserious, bad boyfriends."

"Bad?" Tina questioned, looking over at her friend.

"They weren't all bad," Rachel scowled.

"Rachel," Maria admonished.

"You know that some of them were okay," Rachel argued.

"The okay ones were gay."

"James was not gay."

"Did you not see him kissing Victor at Brody's party?" Maria lifted her brow. "And could you not feel your gaydar pinging like crazy?"

"I-," Rachel began.

"Oh, right," Maria shook her head. "You have no gaydar."

"She has no gaydar?" Santana's gaze snapped over to Rachel in disbelief. "That can't be right. She has a gay Dad."

"She has no gaydar, I kid you not," Maria confirmed.

"Can we stop discussing my gaydar or lack thereof," Rachel snapped, slamming a cupful of coffee milk back down on the table. She looked sheepishly at Quinn. "Told you I haven't had much luck with guys…" She threw an angry glare at Maria. "Or friends, for that matter."

"Can't say I've had much better," Quinn said with a sympathetic smile, color returning to her cheeks.

"You got that right," Santana snorted.

"S," Quinn's cheeks burned. "Shut up."

"First lurch, then Puck, then whoever the Water Polo Captain was," Santana listed. "You ain't got no game with men, Q."

"Boys can suck," Tina injected. She turned an apologetic gaze toward Artie. "Sorry."

Artie shrugged. "It's perfectly alright, Tina. I can freely admit it. Sometimes we're a little too focused on our Call of Duty to care about girls."

"You're the exception, Artie," Maria said. "But if you can't find an Artie… when in doubt, turn to women."

"I can actually agree with you on that one, Irish," Santana acceded.

"I like Sweet Lady Kisses," Brittany smiled brightly, clapping. "They're awesome. Like rainbows and unicorns."

"Can't say I agree with that one," Tina smiled. "I gave that a try, but it just didn't work for me."

"Really?" Maria turned appraising blues over to Tina. "Was it with someone marginally attractive?"

"Definitely," Tina responded. She shrugged. "Sorry, but I pitch a straight ball."

"Oh, that's too fucking bad," Maria sighed, leaning easily over the table. "Because you're really pretty, Tina. Mmm, but I can see the merits of pitching something straight instead of… curved, if the batter is the right."

"I like straight and curved," Brittany said easily.

"Curved," Santana threw up her arms. "Only straight I am is straight up bitch."

"Can't argue with that one," Maria murmured, looking away.

"You say something, Arioso?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Lopez."

"You-."

"S," Quinn said warningly.

"Fine, right, playing nice," Santana gritted her teeth, smiling malevolently.

"I've never been able to tell with Rach," Maria continued, ignoring Santana's threatening stares. "Most of the time she pitches a straight. But when she gets drunk, she likes to pitch the occasional curve ball."

"Maria," Rachel hissed. The last thing she needed were more rumors floating around about her, courtesy of New Directions.

Out of the corner of her eye, Quinn straightened, hazels glinting in surprise.

"Oh, really?" the Head Cheerio stated, fascinated.

"Mmmmhmm," Maria confirmed. "But then again… you know, alcohol's said to make you a little more… honest." Maria focused her attention on Quinn. "How about you, Quinn? You come off as a straight baller to my trained eye."

'Oh my god," Rachel thought to herself. 'That's… a stupid, tactless question.'

Rachel watched as Quinn's jaw tightened, her shoulders squaring and her gaze darkening defensively.

The barriers were up.

Rachel's eyes flickered over to her friend.

Would she…

…She would.

Maria adjusted. She slumped forward, azure softening swiftly to a soft blue. Her voice came forth softly in a hypnotic, assuring wave of comfort. "If you don't want to tell, it's alright. But you're among friends, you know. I'm not much of a gossiper, you can ask Rach."

Maria had always been a comforting presence. No matter how loud or how unfiltered her words, she could always gentle enough or say just the right thing to soften someone to the right level.

Santana was proof of that. Though they had clashed heads during the lunch, Rachel could see the relaxed edge of the Latina's shoulders, the easy grin directed right at Rachel's best friend.

She was one of those people that you could love one moment and hate the next.

A truly rare ability.

One that was clearly working its magic on Quinn.

Quinn gentled, gold eyes becoming less intense by the moment. They flickered across Maria's honest features, trying to find honesty in each genuine crevice.

The girl parted her lips slowly, looking down at the table as she spoke softly.

"…I…" She swallowed slowly, closing her eyes. "…I haven't ruled out either."

A fresh injection of shock coursed through Rachel's veins.

Did Quinn Fabray really just admit what Rachel thought she'd admit?

Chocolate eyes flickered over to Santana and Brittany. No trace of shock played across their features at their Captain's words. Instead, proud smiles seemed to take residence on their faces. Brittany gave Quinn's arm a friendly squeeze.

Oh God.

"It's good to keep your options open," Maria agreed easily, leaning forward. "I'm glad you aren't one of those bible thumpers."

Quinn chuckled bitterly. "I don't think I have the right to be a bible thumper after getting pregnant and having pre-marital sex."

"Pregnant?" Maria's eyebrows lifted. "Well, aren't you just full of surprises, Quinn Fabray."

"Do you have a problem with that?" Quinn's eyes turned steely. Her voice took on a stern and defensive edge once more.

"No, no," Maria shook her head quickly, smiling. "I have no problem at all. I'm a bisexual Roman Catholic… I've just never met someone from the 'upper castes' with such a… refreshing view on religion as you." Maria shifted. "It's a good surprise."

Quinn's shoulders fell. "You're quite a surprise yourself, Maria."

Maria smiled. "I'm glad." She frowned for a moment. "Wait, am I a good surprise or a bad surprise?"

The solemnity of the moment was lost as Quinn threw back her head and laughed. "…A good one."

The bell rang somewhere off in the distance. The little group grabbed up their things hurriedly, broken from their little world.

Brittany and Santana ran off to class whilst Maria chatted quietly with Artie and Tina near the exit of the cafeteria.

Rachel and Quinn walked next to each other, sauntering toward the exit.

"Your friend," Quinn began. "…She's easy to talk to. I don't think I've ever revealed so much to someone a day after I'd met them." She paused before smiling at Rachel. "Well… unless I count you."

"Yeah," Rachel said softly. "She's always been that way... Maria can be a bitch, but she's a big marshmallow under it all." The guitarist chuckled. "She's sorta my therapist."

"I guess you San Diego people can get people to confess people's darkest secrets," Quinn said with a hint of a chuckle in her voice.

"No," Rachel said softly. "…It's… It's just us."

They stopped walking.

"So…" Quinn said softly. "I'll see you after school?"

"Yeah," Rachel smiled. "I'm… I'm really sorry about Maria, by the way. She can be a little nosey sometimes. If… if you wanted to skip to avoid another interrogation, I'd understand."

"You're not getting out of coffee so easily, Berry," Quinn chuckled, stepping forward. "Like I said… I didn't mind the interrogation. I'll adjust to her. Just like I had to adjust to you and your negligent ways."

"That was once," Rachel scowled.

"Twice, if you want to be technical," Quinn laughed. "I'll see you later, Rachel."

"Right," she watched as the cheerleader walked off. "Later…"

Her shoulders slumped and her eyes closed.

She'd been right about Maria stirring the pot. So much had happened within the last few hours. She hadn't expected Maria to play Dr. Phil at lunch and get peole to spill their guts. Goddamnit.

And Quinn…

Rachel's spine stiffened.

'Well,' Rachel thought numbly, walking toward her smirking friend.

'…I suppose I owe her half a coffee for being half right.'

A/N: Did you enjoy it? Let me know :) The song lovely Maria started singing is called "Matchmaker, Matchmaker" from Fiddler on the Roof, which I do not own. Read up on the lyrics and you'll see the irony :P