VII
Quinn makes them soup.
For whatever reason, Rachel doesn't want to be too far away from her, so she settles herself on one of the stools at Quinn's breakfast bar and watches the blonde float around her kitchen.
Quinn gives Rachel some vegetables to chop, which she happily does as Quinn prepares to make vegan croutons. It constantly amazes Rachel whenever Quinn proves how well-versed she is in vegan cuisine, and she resists the urge to swoon.
"We still have three movies of our marathon to get through," Quinn says, eyeing Rachel as she chops. They've had a few incidents of sliced fingers in the past, merely because Rachel is easily distracted.
By Quinn, mainly.
"Is that what we're doing today?" Rachel asks.
"What else did you have in mind?"
Rachel bites her bottom lip. "Nothing that can't wait until tomorrow or even Sunday."
"Tell me."
"Well, I mean, we kind of have costumes to put together, don't we?"
And that's exactly how Quinn finds herself trudging through New York City on the Friday before Halloween looking for Hogwarts robes.
"I'm almost insulted that you don't already have a set," Rachel says, glancing accusingly over her shoulder as they enter yet another costume shop.
"I'll have you know that I already have our wands," Quinn counters. "And ties."
Rachel just hums. "Could we use any kind of robes?" she asks. "I mean, they just have to look like wizard's attire, don't they?"
Quinn shoots her an incredulous look. "We're not being anything but authentic, Rachel," she says. "It would be blasphemous."
Rachel just giggles, absently reaching for Quinn's free hand and linking their fingers. The thing is that Rachel doesn't want to keep them out for too long, because it's supposed to start raining soon and Quinn is still recovering.
She's still using the cane, and that means something.
They find what they're looking for in the third shop, and they spend almost an hour trying on the robes and perusing all other accessories. Rachel needs the round glasses, and Rachel buys Quinn a Time-Turner to hang around her neck that makes the blonde smile like - like -
Rachel has never seen her smile like that.
"Harry seems like an awkward enough teenage boy to buy Hermione jewellery," Rachel muses as they start on their way back to Quinn's apartment. "I'm trying to be authentic."
"Thank you."
Rachel is starting to pick up on certain nuances in Quinn's voice that she still hasn't quite figured out. It almost feels as if she's saying one thing, but actually saying something else entirely.
Rachel knows it'll be simple enough to ask Quinn to… explain, but she doesn't think either of them is ready for whatever truths Quinn might reveal.
Also, they've already had a heavy conversation today.
Quinn moves to take a nap as soon as they get back, her medication and the general exertion of the day catching up with her in the most adorable way.
A sleepy Quinn Fabray is a sight to behold, and Rachel can barely handle it. She just wants to reach out and touch, hold on as tightly as possible and never let go.
"Are you staying?" Quinn asks through a yawn, and she pretends the answer isn't going to affect her by rolling a tired shoulder in an unconvincing shrug.
This time, Rachel sees right through her, and she realises, belatedly, that it's only because Quinn allows it. "I am," she says; "if that's all right with you."
Quinn makes a noncommittal sound. "As long as you don't hog the covers."
"Never."
Quinn doesn't say anything, but Rachel doesn't miss the smile she desperately tries to hide.
Quinn is up and ready to go early Monday morning.
She's itching to get back to campus, and she wants to get into the swing of things as soon as possible, as it were.
It was a nice break from her life, being forced to take some time and recover. It was also almost an out-of-body experience spending the entire weekend with Rachel, as if it was normal.
Because it felt as if it was.
Everything about their extended weekend was just so… easy. They just fit together in all the best ways, and Quinn knows she's only making it harder on herself. She didn't want it to end but, alas, it did, and now she's forced to face reality.
At least she no longer needs the cane.
She's still stiff, but the worst is over, and she knows she's not going to be touching a frisbee for a good few years, at least. Or any other contact sports. She'll stick to running, thank you very much.
When Quinn gets to the office, it's empty save for a vase of flowers in the centre of her desk. Her heart beats double-time at the sight of the gardenias, and she doesn't even need to read the card to know they're from Rachel.
I know you were going stir-crazy being stuck at home.
I hope you have a lovely day.
Don't work too hard, Fabray, because I'll know.
- R
Quinn smiles to herself before she reaches for her phone to text Rachel immediately. She takes a quick picture of herself and the flowers, and sends it, along with the caption and how exactly will you know?
The reply comes almost two hours later, while Quinn is working on marking all the assignments that were handed in while she and Dr Price were away. It's not her favourite part of the requirements of her position, but she does sometimes enjoy reading what the students are working on. It's just that she doesn't yet fully accept that she is in any position to dole out advice to other aspiring writers.
Dr Price thinks otherwise. He's spent endless hours trying to convince her that she has talent, and he's just around to fine tune it. He even jokes that she's going to forget all about him when she's well-known and famous.
Rachel: I have my ways, believe me.
Rachel: How's your day going?
Quinn: That's not creepy at all.
Quinn: It's going as well as can be expected. I have a meeting with my supervisor in a few minutes, which may or may not be important, so there's that.
Quinn: Yours?
Rachel: I see and hear everything, Quinn. I thought you already knew this about me.
Rachel: Good important, or bad important? This distinction is… important.
Rachel: And, my day is just starting. I'm just getting to the theatre. My new Understudy is supposed to begin today, so I may or may not end up in a body bag by the end of the day.
Quinn lets out an unexpected laugh, and Jason glances at her, his brow furrowed. She holds up her phone as an explanation, and he just smiles in response.
The two of them have a strange relationship, in that he obviously has a crush on her, and she's very much gay. She thinks they could be friends, but it's still a little too weird, and she's not about to push it.
There's also a part of her that might not actually like him at all, for whatever reason, which is why she rarely speaks to him.
Quinn: I'm not so sure about that, Rach. You're kind of oblivious to some very important things.
Quinn: I'm thinking it's a good important, but I'll definitely keep you posted.
Quinn: Seriously? How is it possible you actually ended up this dramatic in life? How do you get through the day?
Rachel: Like what? What am I missing?
Rachel: You better keep me in the loop. I'm as invested in you as you are. Perhaps even more.
Rachel: Well, you see, I have lovely people like you to help keep me grounded. Santana says she's never stopped insulting me, in order to keep my feet firmly on the ground when my head blows up from the inevitability of my upcoming success.
Rachel: Drama IS life, Quinn!
Rachel: Accept me for who I am!
Rachel: Quinn?
It's not as if it's anything odd for Quinn randomly to stop replying to Rachel's texts but, after the horror show that was the previous Monday, the silence puts her a little on edge. She does her best not to let it affect her rehearsal, and she's relieved that they're working on the musical numbers today, and not any heavy, emotional acting scenes.
There is emotion involved in the songs, of course, but the music and the lyrics lend a helping hand, and Rachel easily loses herself in it enough to forget that she's still worried about Quinn.
Which all proves to be moot when said blonde shows up at the theatre at the start of their break for lunch, a takeaway bag in her hands and a dazzling smile on her face.
Rachel is completely floored by the sight of her, and her voice gets stuck in her throat the same way her feet are frozen in place.
"There she is!" Alec exclaims, jumping right off the stage and moving to meet Quinn as she approaches them down the left aisle.
"It's hard to imagine you were in the hospital just a week ago," Jasmine says, heading down the steps from the stage - like a normal person. "You're looking much better."
Quinn tilts her head slightly. "Rachel took good care of me," she says.
"I bet she did," Alec says, and Jasmine whacks the back of his head. "Ow," he complains, and then grins at the sight of Quinn's takeaway bag. "I hope you brought something for me."
Quinn laughs, her eyes darting towards where Rachel is still standing on the stage. She arches an eyebrow challengingly, which really doesn't help Rachel at all. It takes Frankie slipping an arm around her shoulders to get her moving, and Quinn looks entirely too smug as she returns her attention to Alec.
"You're in luck," she says. "I brought a handful of burritos for the lot of you crazy drama people."
Alec immediately grabs the bag, which makes Quinn laugh.
"The vegan one is Rachel's," Quinn makes sure to tell him as he starts pulling out foil-wrapped wonders. He randomly hands one to Jasmine, and then another to Frankie when he and Rachel arrive.
Alec looks at Quinn. "Just you and Rach?"
Quinn nods. "The rest are for whoever else is here, I guess," she says.
"You're my favourite person in the world," Alec says, removing the vegan burrito and a random other one from the bag.
"Watch it, Mendelssohn," Rachel says. "She's taken."
"Yeah, yeah," Alec says with a roll of his eyes as he hands Rachel the two burritos. "The entire world is jealous of you, Berry. Bask in it."
"I will."
Quinn just shakes her head, amused, and then reaches for the front of Rachel's sweater and tugs. Rachel goes willingly, easily falling into Quinn's embrace and soaking up her warmth.
When Rachel pulls away, she can't stop her smile. "This is a surprise," she says.
"A good one, I hope," Quinn says, nervously biting her lip.
"Of course," Rachel says, and then reaches up to kiss Quinn's cheek.
Quinn looks past her at Frankie. "Hey," she says. "Sorry to gate-crash your lunch."
Frankie waves a hand, smiling at her. "I think I speak for everyone when I say it's good to see you up and about. We've been worried. Rach said you were doing well, but it's nice to know for sure."
Quinn laughs lightly. "You didn't believe her?"
"As a rule, we believe very little that leaves her mouth," Jasmine jokes.
Alec nods, his mouth full of burrito, as he's the only one who's even started eating. "She once told me she was engaged in high school," he says, rolling his eyes.
Quinn tilts her head back as she laughs out loud, and everyone has to stare. "She really was," she says, her smile blinding. "I did literally everything I possibly could to get her to see reason, even almost…" she trails off, and Rachel steps into her space, easily slipping an arm around her waist.
"It all worked out in the end," she says, and it sounds so severe.
Frankie and Jasmine exchange a meaningful look. While Frankie knows the full story, Jasmine doesn't, and he secretly hopes Quinn does write this story.
"It did," Quinn agrees, her left arm coming around Rachel's shoulders. "Makes it all worth it, doesn't it?"
"Definitely," Rachel says, her eyes meeting Quinn's. It's heavy, this moment, and she knows there's a lot neither of them is saying, but she just doesn't know the words.
Alec breaks into the moment. "Aren't any of you going to eat?" he asks. Then: "I'm totally having a second one."
Quinn looks at Rachel. "Can I borrow you for a minute? I need to talk to you about something."
Rachel tenses for a beat, suddenly wary, but there's excitement and lightness in Quinn's eyes. How can she be worried about anything when Quinn is looking at her like that? "Sure," she says, and then looks at her cast mates. "We'll be right back."
Rachel tries not to panic as Quinn turns them and leads them to the back of the theatre, Alec making obscene sounds behind them. He's such an idiot.
The two of them settle into the very last row, somewhat hidden in the dark, and Rachel absently hands Quinn her burrito.
Neither of them makes a move to start eating.
"Rachel," Quinn starts; "I have to tell you something."
Rachel braces herself.
Quinn sucks in a breath, and then releases it slowly. "I spoke to Jordan today, and - " she stops, sighing. "Jordan Price, he's my supervisor. He's been helping me make my manuscript perfect, and talking about getting it out there, and - " she stops again, and then she laughs.
Like, laugh laughs.
It's almost this unbelievable sound, something Rachel has never heard before.
Rachel stares at her, eyes wide. "Quinn? What is happening?"
Quinn reaches for Rachel's hands and squeezes them, drawing some kind of courage from the contact. "Rachel, they want to publish my book."
It takes Rachel a moment.
A moment for the words to sink in.
And then Rachel is shooting out of her seat and screaming, "What?" loud enough to draw attention to them. She doesn't even care. "What? Quinn, oh my God! Oh, my God!" She covers her mouth with both her hands, her head shaking in disbelief.
Quinn is just smiling at her. "While Jordan was at this conference in Chicago, he ended up talking to this editor from a publishing house here in New York, and he sent her a copy of the book, which she read immediately, and she wants to meet with me, and they want to publish my book, Rachel." She closes her eyes. "They actually want me." Her voice is so full of wonder that it breaks Rachel's heart.
"Of course, they want you," Rachel says, dropping herself into Quinn's lap and wrapping her arms around her. "You're a brilliant writer, and you have so many stories to tell. They would be idiots not to want you."
Quinn's own hands settle on Rachel's waist, and she buries her face in the brunette's sweater. "I still can't believe it."
"It's happening," Rachel assures her, threading her fingers through blonde hair. "It's happening."
Quinn just holds her tighter.
"What did your mom say?" she asks. "Have you told Santana?"
Quinn pulls back, frowning slightly. "You're the first person I've told," she confesses, flushing instantly. "Nothing feels real until you know about it."
Rachel immediately gathers her in another hug, merely to make sure Quinn doesn't see her face, hiding it in Quinn's hair. "I'm so proud of you," she whispers. "I am so, so proud of you; I barely even know what to do with myself."
"Just keep doing what you're doing," Quinn murmurs, and Rachel is content to do just that.
Rachel isn't sure how long they sit like that, but her stomach eventually protests the delayed lunch, and the two of them are forced to break apart.
Suddenly feeling self-conscious, Rachel slips off Quinn's lap and settles into her own seat. She can barely look at the blonde as she reaches for her burrito… that's no longer warm.
Quinn is completely still beside her, and Rachel sneaks a look at her to find hazel eyes focused on her face. "You're the first person I even thought of telling," Quinn says, and she looks slightly distressed by the admission.
"Quinn?"
"I mean, I didn't even think about anyone else," she continues as if Rachel hasn't spoken. "This is the best news I've probably ever received, and you're the first person that popped into my head." She looks so forlorn, and Rachel wants to reach out and touch her.
"Quinn," she whispers.
Quinn shakes her head, muttering to herself. Rachel catches phrases such as stupid to think and definitely not over and no denying it now.
"Quinn," Rachel starts again.
With a sigh, Quinn points to Rachel's burrito. "You should eat something."
Rachel ignores the instruction. "Tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing's wrong," Quinn says, because nothing truly is. "I just - you're more important to me than I thought, and it's a little overwhelming."
"Oh."
Quinn's smile is sad. "Eat up, Berry," she says. "I did not scour this damn city for a fucking vegan burrito, just for it to go to waste."
Rachel eyes her carefully, and then quickly kisses her cheek. "Thank you, Quinn," she says. Then, because she's Rachel Berry, she adds, "And, everything is going to be okay. You'll see."
"Is everything okay?" Frankie asks when Rachel returns from her little lunch date with Quinn. The brunette looks lost in thought, and it takes her a moment to look at him.
"Hmm?"
"Is everything okay?" he asks again, smiling knowingly. "There was a bit of noise back there. Something happen?"
Rachel blinks slowly, and then grins. "Quinn just told me some of the best news," she says. "Amazing news, really."
"Do we get to know?" Jasmie asks from Frankie's left side, sipping at a bottle of water.
Rachel looks torn. "I'm not really sure," she admits. "It's Quinn's news, so I think it's best if she tells you. Plus, she probably has to tell her mom first."
Frankie smiles widely. "Wow. She told you before her mother? Must be serious."
Rachel nods, looking a little lost again. "I think she kind of freaked out when she realised it, yes," she says, almost to herself. "She doesn't exactly have the easiest relationship with her mother, as you know, Frankie."
And, Frankie does.
Jasmine looks at him. "Why? What happened?"
"I'll tell you later," he says, patting her forearm. "Hey, Rach?"
Rachel snaps to attention. "Yes?"
"We, umm, were wondering if we could talk to you about something," he says, suddenly sounding nervous. "It's about you and Quinn."
Rachel's brow furrows and, for a moment, she looks panicked. "What about us?"
"Well, we were just talking, you know, about, well, the two of you, and Alec brought up that… you two don't really, umm, kiss." He pauses, watching as Rachel frowns. "And, I don't know if it's just who you are as a couple because you're not into PDA, but we thought we should mention that we don't mind. Jasmine thinks that you might be censoring yourselves because not everyone is accepting of same-sex relationships, but we want you to know that you don't have to do that with us. It… doesn't make us uncomfortable."
"Alec would probably encourage it," Jasmine adds in when Rachel just stares blankly at them.
Rachel takes another moment. "I've - I've never really thought about it," she quietly admits, which is the truth. "I think it's an unconscious thing, by now. As you both know, we didn't grow up in a very… accepting place. I think Quinn still struggles with open affection on most days, but it's nice to know you guys are comfortable with it. That means a lot."
"Of course," Frankie says. "We love Quinn."
Rachel glares at him. "What about me?"
"You're all right."
Jasmine giggles, and Rachel shoots her a wounded look. "We kind of love you too," she says after a moment.
"Just kind of?" she asks, a secret smile spreading across her face as she gets lost in thought, once again.
Frankie and Jasmine exchange a look, neither of them even bothering to respond.
Kurt Hummel doesn't take his role as confidante lightly. A long time ago, it started with Rachel Berry and, never in his wildest dreams, did he think it would one day include Quinn Fabray.
A very gay Quinn Fabray, who obviously has a very big, gay problem on her hands.
Kurt is sympathetic, of course, because he's suffered the indignity of having feelings for someone who is very obviously straight. It's what they initially bonded over all those years ago.
That, and he understands her far better than anyone, given his experience with Dave Karofsky.
It is different, though, because Quinn's bullying never included homophobic slurs. While she acknowledged Rachel's… parentage, she never went after it, and Kurt reasons it's because a part of her always knew she would just be attacking herself.
And her best friends.
Even though she grew up as a strict Christian, groomed to believe that homosexuality was a sin of the top order, Quinn didn't quite… believe it.
Buy into it, as it were.
She likes to joke about how it took until her sophomore year of college to figure out she liked girls more than she probably should. She's a genius, but she's awfully dumb, sometimes.
"So, you're getting published?" Kurt says, grinning madly, even though he's very calm. He panicked slightly when Quinn called him demanding that he go over to her place, because she needed to talk, and now he's glad he skipped his book club meeting for this.
He's so proud of her, he can barely formulate the words.
Quinn stares at him, incredulous. "Did you hear anything I just said?" she questions. "I told Rachel first, Kurt. She's the first person I had to tell, and there was no stopping me. I didn't think of anyone else. I'm literally so fucking fucked. How did this happen? I was fine. I was over her; I was."
Kurt sighs, reaching out to pat her hand. "Oh, Quinn," he murmurs. "Let's not start lying to ourselves now. You were never over her."
"I was," she argues. "I got way over her when she was dating St Jackass."
Kurt shakes his head. "You got angry with her," he says. "You stopped spending time with her, which was the right thing to do for yourself. Then you started dating Julia, which, at the time, was also a good thing."
"And then really, really bad," Quinn interjects.
"She was a bitch, yes," he says, scowling. He'll never forgive that awful woman for what she did to Quinn. He takes a deep breath to calm himself. "What I'm trying to get at is that you have been fighting a losing battle from the moment you heard the tiny human sing."
Quinn glares at him. "I told you never to bring that up again," she says pointedly.
He ignores her. "I think that the best thing you can do for yourself is admit this is a problem. You've identified what we've been seeing for years. You're hooked, Quinn, and you're going to have to do some difficult things to protect yourself."
Quinn blinks.
Kurt knows he has to say the words, regardless of what he may or may not know about Rachel's apparent feelings. The brunette still isn't sure, and that could potentially hurt Quinn even more.
God, sometimes he hates being a confidante. It's too much responsibility.
Who is his confidante?
"What difficult things?" Quinn asks, and her voice sounds so small; so vulnerable. "Because, if you're suggesting what I think you're suggesting; I don't think I can do that." She audibly swallows. "I know it's the best possible thing to do, but - but - "
Kurt squeezes her fingers. "You're not ready."
"I - I don't want to lose her," Quinn says, and she sounds so helpless.
"You won't."
"You don't know that," Quinn immediately counters. "You can't know that."
He sighs. "She cares about you," he says, because he knows that much for sure. "There's no way you're going to lose her. It's… impossible. The five of us, we're a packaged deal and, maybe we'll have to do some adjusting, but it's not going to be as awful as you think it's going to be."
"You don't know that."
And, okay, he doesn't, but what else is he supposed to say?
He really needs to find another role.
"I'm just saying," Santana is complaining; "I feel like I'm the last one to know, and that's not okay, Fabray."
Quinn, wisely, doesn't reply. She does feel bad, but she knows it's not the time to let Santana know that truth, or they're going to have to suffer a smug Santana Lopez the entire night.
"I mean, even Bowtie knew before I did," Santana complains, referring to the fact that Blaine was privy to Quinn's meeting with a publisher before she was.
Quinn sighs. "Look, I told Kurt when I had dinner with him last night, and he must have told Blaine," she explains. "I was going to tell you tonight. I didn't know boy wonders where going to come singing through the door with congratulations."
Santana glares at her. "And the Munchkin?"
Quinn shrugs helplessly. She won't admit that Rachel was the first person she told. Even before her mother. God, she's so far gone, it's beyond pathetic, at this point. That's what she had to discuss with Kurt, because she knows Santana's just going to say I told you so, and Quinn isn't ready for that.
"Right," Santana grumbles, realising it's dumb to think anyone would come before Rachel when it comes to Quinn. "Stupid question."
Quinn flicks Santana's arm with her forefinger. "Stop pouting," she says. "It's only cute on Rachel."
"Ew."
Quinn laughs. "I'm sorry," she says. "I was going to tell you, I promise. I came over here with that intention." She shifts closer to the Latina, a smile still on her face because Santana is doing her best not to look at her. "You have to forgive me. I'm your best friend. I'm going to be a published author. You can't stay mad at me."
"Yes, I can," she counters. "I've been mad at you since freshman year of high school."
Quinn frowns. "For what?"
"You said you didn't like the peanut M&Ms, and I still haven't forgiven you."
And, Quinn laughs. It's this easy, happy sound that transports Santana into a life where her best friend is always like this.
Quinn puts an arm around Santana and kisses her cheek.
"I don't even know how we're friends," Santana says, forcing herself to squirm away and wipe at her cheek. "Gross."
"Just be grateful I didn't lick you."
"You're disgusting," Santana says; "why didn't I never know that?"
"You love me," Quinn teases.
"Only sometimes."
Quinn shrugs. "I'll take it," she declares. "Now, finish up, Catwoman, our adoring public awaits."
Santana glances down at her costume. "I look hot."
Quinn just waves a hand as she spins and heads out of Santana's bedroom. She can hear Kurt and Blaine bickering over their costumes in the living room, and she smiles to herself as she heads through Rachel's open door. Her smile widens when she sees the brunette fiddling with her tie, and Quinn can't resist coming up behind her and pressing her fingers against her sides.
Rachel squeals, jumping up and spinning around. "Quinn!"
Quinn grins at her. "Hi."
Rachel huffs out a breath, and then throws her arms around the other woman. It isn't as if they saw each other literally fifteen minutes ago; she's missed the blonde.
Quinn hugs her back, because why shouldn't she? "Are you almost ready?" she asks, releasing Rachel. "San is ready, and the boys have been itching to go since they arrived."
"Help me with my tie," Rachel says.
Quinn immediately lifts her hands. "It doesn't have to be perfect," she says. "Harry doesn't really care about his attire. Not the way Hermione does."
Rachel studies Quinn's near-perfect tie. "You make a very fetching Hermione Granger," she says.
"Fetching?"
"I'm trying to be authentic."
Quinn pulls her into another hug because she just can't resist. Her heart is growing in size with every second she spends with Rachel, and it's so, so dangerous.
But, she loves it.
She loves everything about it.
Even if it scares the living daylight out of her.
Rachel grips Quinn's robes tightly in her left fist when they emerge from the elevator on the party's floor. The music is loud and everything is bright and light and she feels slightly overwhelmed.
Quinn must sense it, because her hand slips into Rachel's and gives it a comforting squeeze. It's odd, Rachel thinks, how in tune Quinn is with her. She never noticed it before, but it's something she can't ignore now that she's conscious of her new feelings.
At least, she thinks they're new.
Someone bumps her hip, and she turns to see Jasmine… dressed as Jasmine, and Frankie on her right side in his Aladdin getup. Their costumes are pretty awesome, if she says so herself, and Alec coming dressed as the genie is just the icing on the cake.
"I'm so glad Kurt could get us in," Jasmine says, shouting over the music.
"Me too," Rachel says. She's grateful he could get them all in, but she's a little more thankful that her cast mates are here, because it gives her an excuse to remain close to Quinn all night.
She's starting to feel… anxious that this is all going to come to an end, now that Megan is no longer in the picture. The redhead was the main reason they even started this whole shenanigan.
So, there's really no need to 'stay together' now, right?
Rachel's grip unconsciously tightens on Quinn's hand, and the blonde winces. "Sorry," Rachel immediately says.
"Everything okay?"
Rachel just reaches up to kiss her cheek. "Want something to drink?"
Quinn looks perplexed for a moment, and then she nods. "Together?"
"Sure," she says. She looks to her right, where Jasmine is fiddling with her costume. "We're going to get some drinks," she tells her. "And then, probably dance the night away."
Jasmine laughs. "Don't get arrested for public indecency."
"We'll try," Rachel says with a roll of her eyes. "Are you going to be okay?"
"Keep your phone on," Jasmine says, and then shoos her away.
Quinn's smiling at her now, gently leading her through the crowd towards the open bar. It's brave, to have an open bar, but Rachel isn't complaining. She just watches as Quinn orders their drinks, getting Rachel's order correct without having to ask what she wants.
Later, she'll recall this moment as one of many to lead up to the incredibly stupid thing she does at the end of the night.
Another one is the moment Quinn's fingers trail along her forearm to cup her elbow as she leads them onto the dance floor. That moment is closely followed by the moment Quinn's fingers curl into the fabric at the small of her back as they move to the music.
It's respectful in the beginning. They're close, but not too close.
Then the drinks start flowing, and the moments that start to drive Rachel a little crazy increase in number.
Quinn pulls her closer, and Rachel forgets that she told herself she was never going to drink again. The world disappears, and it's just her and Quinn, dancing and breathing.
Panting, really.
And, Quinn's eyes are dark; so, so dark. They're intense, boring into her in a way that should terrify her. She's never experienced anything like this. Not with Finn, Noah, Brody or Jesse. She's never felt so alive under someone's gaze before.
It's too much.
It's not enough.
Everything is terrifying, and Rachel can't decide if she wants to get closer or move further away.
Thankfully or not, the decision is made for her when Alec interrupts their… dancing-that-somehow-turned-into-grinding to tell them that they're doing shots.
"Tequila!"
Quinn just rolls her eyes, but she pulls Rachel off the dance floor. Rachel's focus is on the rapid beating of her heart and the warmth of Quinn's palm against hers.
"There they are!" Santana exclaims when she sees them. "Harmony." She laughs to herself, and then indicates the woman dressed as Wonder Woman beside her. "This is Perrie," she says. "Perrie, this Quinn, and that's Rachel."
Both Quinn and Rachel politely wave, almost in sync.
Alec guffaws. "Trippy."
"Shots," Kurt says, pointing to the tray on the table they're occupying. "Everybody!"
Quinn and Rachel exchange a look, simultaneously shrug, and then reach for their drinks. Santana counts them all down.
"Where's the lime?" someone asks, but they're all already downing their drinks. The liquid burns, and Quinn rests her forehead on Rachel's shoulder as she forces herself to breathe through the fire.
Rachel rubs her back soothingly, smiling to herself. "You okay?"
"Great," Quinn murmurs, which Kurt uses as license to grab her hand and drag her to the dance floor.
Rachel just watches, feeling an odd sense of loss settle over her.
"Don't worry," Frankie says with a lazy smile; "you'll get your girlfriend back."
Santana snorts, but Rachel doesn't say anything.
Despite Frankie's words, Rachel doesn't get Quinn back for at least an hour. She's been dancing with everyone but Rachel, rotating through Kurt, Blaine, Alec, and even Jasmine.
Rachel's danced with Frankie, mainly, but she misses the feel of Quinn's body. The heat of her skin; the smell of her breath; the look in her eyes.
She misses Quinn.
It's unsettling. She's never really missed anyone this way before. Quinn is literally in the same room as her. Her fathers are in another state, and she doesn't miss them nearly this much.
Sometimes, she couldn't wait to get some alone time when she was with Finn or Jesse, but she's been going crazy whenever she's out of Quinn's presence.
It can't be healthy.
Frankie pinches Rachel's cheek to get her attention. "Am I that terrible of a dancer?" he asks with a laugh. "You're not even looking at me. I mean, I know I'm not as pretty as Quinn, but come on."
Rachel smiles sheepishly. "No, you're definitely not as pretty as her."
They share a laugh.
"I'm sorry," Rachel says, sighing.
"Don't worry about it," he says. "If my girlfriend looked anything like Quinn, I would be pouting as well."
Rachel frowns. "Why don't you have a girlfriend, Frankie?" she asks. "I mean, you're obviously a catch, and you're handsome. Has nobody caught your eye?"
The silence she receives is answer enough.
"Somebody has," she says, looking pensive. She watches Frankie's eyes flick to the left for a moment, and he blushes. "You should ask her out, you know?"
Frankie looks nonplussed.
"I know I can be self-absorbed," she says, "but I see things. It's kind of obvious, if you look close enough. Just ask her. She's single. You're single. You're practically together already. I mean, you're like a packaged deal at this point."
Frankie sighs. "She's my best friend."
"Quinn's mine," she counters. "I don't see what the problem is. The best relationships are built on friendships."
"And I should definitely take it from you, shouldn't I?"
She shrugs, fighting off the guilt. "Definitely."
"Mine."
Quinn lets out a delighted laugh as Rachel's arms wrap around her waist. "I was wondering when you were going to come rescue me," she murmurs, her arms draping over Rachel's shoulders.
"I've watched you dance with far too many people who aren't me," Rachel says. "It's my turn."
"It's always your turn," Quinn assures her. "There's a list, apparently. Hermione Granger is popular tonight."
"Have you encountered some other Harry Potters?"
Quinn nods. "None as perfect for me as you, though," she says, her hips starting to move to the beat.
Rachel's arms loosen slightly to allow for better movement, and she closes her eyes at the feeling of Quinn. She could live in this moment forever.
Only, not everyone is on board with that, and she feels someone tap her shoulder. One glance over her shoulder brings her face to face with a redheaded man who's… dressed like Ron Weasley.
Rachel rolls her eyes at the same time Quinn lets out a laugh.
Except, well, what starts out as what could be termed a funny joke turns ugly pretty quickly. 'Ron' is obviously drunk, convinced Harry is with 'his girl' and slightly homophobic.
What should be a bit of fun turns into a full-blown brawl when 'Ron' puts his hands on Rachel, and Quinn reacts, which prompts all their friends to come out of the woodworks.
Nobody knows who throws the first punch but, after the fight is over, they all get thrown out.
Kurt's costume is probably the only thing that ensures he keeps his job.
"I could have killed a mother fucker!" Santana seethes. "How dare he touch my Munchkin?"
Rachel raises her eyebrows. "Your Munchkin?"
"Shut up, Berry," she says. "I almost broke my hand for you."
"I did break my hand," Quinn complains, as the nine of them head down the sidewalk away from the Vogue building.
"Aww, baby," Rachel says, taking hold of Quinn's swelling hand between both of her own. She's still feeling the rush, and this has been the most surprising night of her life.
"Are we calling it a night or what?" Alec asks the group. "Because, I'm so fucking pumped right now!"
After a bit of discussion, everyone else is game for a longer night, save for Rachel and Quinn.
"I need to ice this," Quinn whispers, and Rachel makes up some excuse to get them out of it. She knows Quinn is a home body and, if she's complaining about her hand, then it must hurt.
"Lame," Santana complains, and then grabs Perrie's hand to start them walking in the opposite direction. Kurt and Blaine follow, and Rachel turns to her cast mates.
"Don't have too crazy a night," she warns. "We still have rehearsals tomorrow."
Alec just grins. "Take your own advice," he says, and then they go their separate ways.
Rachel can't stop her grin when her attention is on Quinn again. The blonde is smiling lopsidedly, and Rachel practically jumps on the spot.
"That was amazing!" Rachel practically yells, her arms spread as she spins in the street with this happy smile on her face and mirth dancing in her eyes. She stops suddenly, her eyes finding Quinn's. "You," she says, sounding so serious. "You are amazing!"
Quinn's features soften at the sincerity behind Rachel's words. "I did good, huh?"
Rachel's smile slips away as she studies Quinn's face. Quinn is honestly the most beautiful person she's ever encountered, and sometimes she can't even believe it. The girl isn't real, but she is, and Rachel feels as if her entire world shifts whenever she realises the truth of it.
Quinn arches an eyebrows. "Rach?" she questions. "Everything okay there?"
It's the voice that draws her closer, and she closes the space between them. She's not sure what she's doing, but Quinn is like a magnet and she's powerless, like a moth to a flame.
Quinn's eyes widen slightly. "Rach - "
Rachel kisses her.
Soft lips press together long enough for Quinn to make the decision of whether to question this, or just give in.
It's tempting; so, so tempting.
She can practically see the fireworks just waiting to explode.
But, it's not supposed to be like this.
Hating herself immensely, the blonde pulls away, frowning. "What are you doing?" she asks because, no, no, no, it's not supposed to happen this way.
And, all Rachel can do is stare into Quinn's dark eyes, finding both questions and answers in them. It's obvious she's not against the kiss, but there's so much more to it.
"Rachel?"
Rachel's ears are ringing, and her heart is pounding. She's ready, but she's not. This isn't real. None of this is real.
She steps back. "Frankie mentioned that we don't kiss enough, and they were watching," she says, and then spins on her heel and continues walking.
Quinn doesn't bother to turn around to check to see if she's lying.