VIII
"So."
Santana waits, clearly realising that her best friend needs her to remain patient and silent, allowing her to say what she needs to say. They've been sitting in this cafe for almost twenty minutes; twenty minutes of Quinn sitting perfectly still as she contemplates her words.
Santana's patience only stretches so far.
It's reaching its threshold.
"Rachel kissed me."
Of all the things Santana expects Quinn to say, that is definitely not one of them. It catches her off guard in the worst way, and she almost chokes on her water.
"What?"
"Rachel kissed me," Quinn repeats.
"When?"
"Tuesday night," Quinn answers, biting the inside of her cheek. "We were already on our way home, and I think the adrenalin was still pumping from the fight or something, but she just fell silent at some point, and I was so confused, and then she just kissed me."
Santana just stares at her. "Wait, wait," she finally says. "Let me get this straight: Rachel kissed you?"
Quinn nods.
"And, what did you do?"
"Oh, uh, well, I - " she stops. "I guess you could say I pushed her away."
Santana's eyes widen. "Seriously?"
Quinn bristles at the sound of that. "I do have some self-control, Santana."
"Oh, I know," Santana says. "You've been denying yourself what you want for years, Q. Your self-control is impeccable."
Quinn sighs, wringing her fingers together in her lap.
"I'm just surprised, is all."
"By what?" Quinn asks, curious. "That she's the one who ended up kissing me, or that I put a stop to it?"
"Both, to be honest," Santana confesses. "Did she say why she kissed you?"
Quinn presses her lips together. "She claimed that the others were watching," she says. "I don't really know. We never actually discussed that aspect of our… situation."
Santana stares at her for a long time, searching her face for something. Whether she finds it or not, Quinn doesn't know, and she's too afraid to ask. She suspects Santana must know some things about Rachel that she'll never tell her, and Quinn's largely okay with that.
In the years Santana and Rachel have been living together; they've developed the kind of friendship that not many people understand.
Kind of like her and Kurt.
"How do you feel about it?" Santana eventually asks.
"Confused," Quinn immediately says. "I think I've been confused about all of this from the very beginning. Like, why did she really ask me, you know? I can't tell if any of it is real or not, and I don't want to know if Rachel really is that good of an actress."
Santana sighs. "I don't want to say 'I told you so,' but I would like to point out that I said this would be a bad idea. You're already in too deep, Q. It's time to get out."
Quinn looks genuinely distressed by that idea.
"You have to end it, Quinn," Santana says. "It's time now. It was time before it even started, but it's gone too far. Look at you, babe. You're five seconds away from falling apart, and you know it."
Quinn forces her fidgeting hands to still. "Santana," she starts.
"No," she says firmly. "It has to end. I can't watch you do this to yourself. If you want her, and you're wiling to risk it all, then it has to be done the right way, okay? You deserve that. You both do."
Quinn audibly swallows. "I - I don't even know what that means."
"It means that you're going to have to end things the way they are," she says. "That's the first thing."
"And then what?"
"And then you decide if you're going to tell Rachel Berry that you've been in love with her for years."
"So."
Kurt waits, ever patient when it comes to Rachel Berry and her unnecessarily complicated life. His role of confidante is being tested to the very limits by his friends, and he's starting to think he deserves a vacation for his troubles.
"I kissed Quinn."
Kurt's eyes widen, but he's far too composed to react in any way more than that. "Excuse me?"
"I kissed Quinn," she repeats.
Kurt takes a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. "When?"
"Tuesday night," she says. "On our way home."
Kurt closes his eyes to draw on patience and courage from some other part of his body. He's going to need all of it to get through this conversation, he's sure. "Rachel, Honey, why on earth would you do a thing like that?"
Rachel bites her bottom lip. "I - I don't know," she finally says. "We just got out of a literal physical fight and Quinn was so amazing and my blood was pumping and have you seen her? I wasn't really thinking much more than I have to kiss her, I have to kiss her, so I just kind of did."
Kurt can barely keep up.
"Kurt? Kurt, did you hear what I said?"
"I'm still caught up on the fact that you're the one who kissed her," he admits, more to himself. Why hasn't Quinn contacted him about this? She must be struggling with all of this. He suspects she must have talked to somebody… probably Santana.
"Why?" Rachel asks.
Kurt leans back, breathing out slowly. "I don't know how you don't see it," he says, again to himself. "It's so obvious."
"What are you talking about?"
He shakes his head. "What - what did she do?" he asks, suddenly wary of the answer to this particular question.
Rachel drops her gaze, feeling slightly conflicted. "I - I thought she was going to kiss me back," she confesses; "but, after a moment, she kind of pulled away and asked me what I was doing."
Kurt's mouth drops open in surprise. "Quinn put an end to it?"
"Again, why do you sound so surprised?"
He rubs the space between his eyebrows to stop himself from throwing his drink at her. If she can't see it, then she's not looking for it, which means she's not ready to accept what's right in front of her, and he won't let her do that to Quinn.
"Rachel," he starts. "I need you to answer this question for me, and you have to be honest."
She stares at him, waiting silently.
"Did - did you know how you felt before you asked Quinn to do this for you?" he asks, suddenly wary. He's not sure he wants to know the answer because, either way, it doesn't exactly look good for Quinn.
If Rachel says yes, then she used some convoluted plan to get to be with Quinn without actually being with her and, if she says no, then there's a high chance that she's just… confused.
"How I felt," Rachel echoes. "What do you mean?"
Kurt meets her gaze. "Do you like Quinn, Rachel?"
And, for the most part, Rachel doesn't really know the answer to that question. She can hear the inflection in his voice, and she knows exactly what he's asking. "I - I think so," she eventually says.
"You think so?" he questions. "So, you're not sure?"
"No…?"
Kurt closes his eyes. "Do you think you could like Quinn? Are you just curious? Is it girls you're curious about, or is it Quinn? Have you always felt - "
"Kurt," she interrupts. "What exactly are you asking me?"
"Do you think you're… not exactly straight?" he asks carefully. "Or, are you just getting confused by the fact that you've had all of Quinn's attention?"
That seems to strike something in Rachel, and she flinches at the implication. That can't be it, can it?
Kurt sighs. "You have absolutely no idea, do you?"
And, it's the way Rachel can't seem to answer that question that makes the decision for him. His two girls need to protect themselves, and the only way they can do that is if they end this right now.
And, preferably, as painlessly as possible.
"Rachel," he starts. "You can't do this. You know you can't. If this is some kind of… sexual curiosity or some kind of misplaced experimentation, you can't do this with Quinn. You know you can't. She's finally in a good place; settled and as happy as Quinn Fabray can ever be and, if you offer her something you're not even sure about; you're just going to hurt the both of you.
"Because, we both know she'll give you everything. She'll throw herself right in one hundred percent and, if you decide one day that it's not for you; that she's not for you; you'll crush her, and you'll never forgive yourself for it." He pauses. "I'll never forgive you for it."
Rachel has no idea what to say to him.
"But, if you are sure, and you aren't just going to use Quinn to settle your curiosity and confusion, then, well, welcome to this side of the rainbow." He tries to smile, but he can't be sure what he's feeling in this moment.
Rachel doesn't say anything for a long while, both of them existing in heavy silence. It takes her a while to get out the question to which she already knows the answer. "I have to end it, don't I?"
Kurt nods. "Regardless of what happens afterwards, you have to end it."
Rachel drops her gaze to the table in front of her, her mind spinning. "None of it has been real, has it?"
Kurt just manages to stop himself from screaming All of it is real! right at her face, because that would be improper. It amazes him that she can't see how real everything with Quinn actually is. He thinks it's best if they figure it out for themselves, but he's struggling with the urge just to blow the entire thing wide open and reveal all the secrets.
His hair is going grey just thinking about it.
Before either of them can say another word, Rachel's phone beeps. She lifts it off the table, unsurprised to see Quinn's name flash across her screen. Twice.
Quinn: We should probably talk, shouldn't we?
Quinn: Come over for dinner tonight?
Rachel sighs heavily at the sight of the words, and then shows her phone's screen to Kurt. "It turns out we seem to be on the same page about this."
Kurt smiles in sympathy. "At least you know she's expecting it," he offers as kindly as he can.
She shrugs. "Funny," she murmurs; "that doesn't make me feel any better."
Quinn's door is unlocked when Rachel arrives at the blonde's apartment. She feels deeply unsettled, and dread is creeping up her spine at what is expected of this evening. Even the familiar sound of Quinn busy in her kitchen does nothing to settle Rachel's nerves.
Why does she feel as if this is a real breakup?
Of a fake relationship.
Maybe she's feeling all twisted inside because she knows they haven't come out of this unscathed.
And, based on the call she received from Denny on her way over here, she knows she's about to ask something a little too much of her blonde friend. She's already asked so much, right? What's one more thing?
"Rachel," Quinn calls out from the kitchen; "Sometimes, I fucking hate that you're a vegan."
And, it's enough to bring a reluctant smile to Rachel's face. It's okay. They're going to be okay. She has absolutely nothing to worry about.
Rachel rids herself of her coat, hanging it up immediately, because Quinn will probably send her right back out of the kitchen to do it. She's a stickler for these kinds of things, and it's one of Rachel's favourite things about her.
Quinn is standing over her stove when Rachel finds her, a slight frown on her face as she concentrates on the task at hand. It's an adorable sight, really, and Rachel just stands in the doorway and watches her for as long as she can get way with.
Eventually, Quinn notices her, and a soft smile blooms across her perfect face. "Hello, you," she says. "Dinner's almost ready. Don't you want to grab some plates?"
Rachel ignores her completely, and crosses the kitchen to wrap her arms around Quinn's warm body. She goes at it from the side, and Quinn automatically lifts her right arm to hold her shoulders, her body shaking from her slight amusement.
Rachel sighs into the embrace, and then smiles to herself when Quinn presses a soft kiss to the top of her head. From what Rachel can recall, there was this kind of affection from Quinn before, but Rachel didn't really register it until she just did.
She doesn't want it to end.
"Plates, Rach," Quinn says after a moment. "I'm starving."
Rachel reaches up to kiss her cheek, and then moves away. She knows not to make a big deal about Quinn expressing her hunger, even if she's doing cartwheels inside. It's not something that Quinn generally does and, while Rachel appreciates how comfortable Quinn is these days; it saddens her to recall that Quinn has ever had body image and food consumption issues.
Also, Rachel has noticed that Quinn does it only when she's tired, distracted or trying to get herself out of an uncomfortable position.
Tonight, Rachel suspects it's a combination of all three.
They don't really start talking until they're both seated at the breakfast bar, Quinn's glass of water between them. The blonde didn't even manage to get a sip before Rachel accosted it. Some things never change.
It's Quinn who eventually brings it up and, even though Rachel is expecting it, it still catches her off guard.
"You kissed me."
Rachel blinks stupidly for several beats of her heart, and then she nods. "I did," she says. "I - I'm sorry if I overstepped."
Quinn clears her throat. "It was definitely a surprise," she says. "What did you say about Frankie not thinking we kiss enough?"
"It's not that, exactly," Rachel says. "He just mentioned that he noticed we didn't kiss when we're around them, and he thought it was because we thought they wouldn't be comfortable with such displays of affection." She presses her lips together. "He wanted to make sure we knew they didn't even care, and I guess my brain, uh…" she trails off, unsure how to finish.
"So, you kissed me because Frankie almost… expected you to?" Quinn asks, her voice surprisingly steady.
"Um, yes…?"
"Not because you wanted to?"
Rachel sucks in a breath, her heart jumping into her throat. What kind of question is that?
When Quinn sees the panicked look on Rachel's face, she immediately backtracks. "Never mind. That's a stupid question," she says, shaking her head. Of course Rachel wouldn't want to. It's all just an act.
Rachel just sighs.
Quinn lifts her glass to sip at her water, garnering very little liquid courage from it. "Look, Rach, I've been thinking," she starts. "With - with Megan out of the production, I don't really see any reason for us to keep up with all of this."
And, sure, Rachel knew this was coming, but it still makes her chest twist unpleasantly. "Oh?"
Quinn clears her throat. "I mean, I think we've proved that you're comfortable enough with women to pull off being a lesbian, but I don't think it's necessary for you to be in a relationship anymore."
It takes her a moment, but Rachel eventually forces out the words she knows she needs to say: "I agree."
Quinn freezes for a moment, a little surprised. She had an entire speech prepared, but it seems useless and unnecessary now. "Then, it's settled," she says.
Rachel bites her bottom lip in thought. "Have - have you given any thought to how you'd like to…"
"Break up?" Quinn finishes.
"Well, yes."
"Not really," she says, entirely too casually as she attempts to focus on her food. "It'll have to be for a really believable reason, won't it? I mean, we've kind of oversold our relationship, and we have to think of something really telling without making either of us look like a terrible person."
"So, no cheating, huh?" Rachel tries to joke, which fails dismally.
Quinn shoots her a withering glare, and Rachel audibly swallows. "It has to be a good enough reason that we can remain friends," she says; "because, whether you like it or not, you're stuck with me, Berry."
"I thought that was my line," Rachel says, the tension in her body easing slightly. "It's taken me years to wear you down."
"And, look at you, still chipping away," she says with an unexpected wink, causing Rachel to choke on the food she's just put in her mouth.
Quinn's eyes widen, and she's quick to rub at Rachel's back.
When Rachel has recovered, Quinn ducks her head to catch the other woman's gaze. "Are you okay?" she asks, her brow furrowed in worry.
"I'm fine," Rachel reassures her, taking a sip of water. "I think it just went down the wrong pipe."
"Oh, okay," Quinn says, leaning back.
The silence is slightly awkward as Rachel completes her recovery and Quinn tries not to sneak worried looks at her. Eventually, they both resume eating, and the awkwardness bleeds out of the atmosphere.
"We'll think of something," Quinn finally says.
Rachel just nods, and then takes a deep breath. "While we're doing that, there's, umm, something I wanted to discuss with you."
"Oh?"
"About out arrangement."
"Okay."
"I know we have to end it, and I think it's the best course of action, at this point, but I was wondering if we could go to one more event together."
Quinn eyes her carefully. "What is it?"
Rachel drops her gaze. "I - I wasn't initially invited," she explains. "It's a fancy dinner party that Tom and Denny are hosting for all their producer director rich people friends, and nobody from the cast or crew was invited." She hesitantly meets her eyes. "But, then Denny called, and she, umm, invited us both."
"Both?"
"I think you've made quite the impression, Quinn," Rachel says. "And - and this is a really big deal. For, um, my career. I could meet so many people - important people - and I wouldn't ask this of you if it wasn't… important."
When Quinn just stares at her, Rachel feels a certain bubble of nausea rise in her abdomen. Is this one step too far? Is this too much to ask?
Rachel returns her attention to her food, merely to give herself something to do while she waits for Quinn to wrap her head around what she's asking.
When Quinn finally speaks, she sounds slightly interested. "When you say fancy dinner party; does that mean fancy fancy?"
Rachel lifts her gaze, nodding slowly. Then: "What are you saying, Quinn?"
"When is this fancy party?"
"Saturday evening," she immediately says. "At their home. Some of the bigwigs are going to be there. It's supposed to be this intimate thing, and I could really make some important connections. Provided I don't make a fool of myself. Oh, God. What if I end up saying something insulting and then nobody wants to work with me ever again?"
For the first time all night, Quinn actually looks amused. "Is there something specific you want me to wear?" she asks, in an attempt to distract Rachel from her predictably spiralling thoughts.
"The red dress."
Quinn raises her eyebrows.
"The one you bought for your graduation, but ended up going with the green one, because your mother said the red was a little too risqué."
Quinn laughs. "If I recall correctly, you're the one who chose it."
Rachel's smile is a little smug. "I did," she agrees, and Rachel did it because Quinn wears it superbly well. "Do you still have it?"
Quinn nods. "You told me to save it for another special occasion," she says. "Does this count?"
"I'd say so."
Quinn reaches out to poke Rachel in the ribs. "You're so full of yourself, aren't you?"
Rachel lets out a little laugh. "I'm special, Quinn; don't deny it."
"I would never dream of doing such a thing," Quinn says, and she sounds so, so serious. "It's taken me a while, but I've come to acknowledge just how special you are, Rachel. Please don't let anyone tell you otherwise, ever again, okay? Especially me."
Rachel is a little thrown by the severity of Quinn's tone, and she feels her stomach do an involuntary flipflop at the sound of the blonde's words.
Quinn's face pinches slightly. "I don't know if you think you're anything other than spectacular because of what we did to you in high school, but I want you to know you're wonderful, okay?" Her eyes narrow slightly, focused solely on Rachel. "How did we ever think you were arrogant and overly-confident?" she asks, more to herself than anything. "It's all an act, isn't it?"
Rachel blinks slowly, clearly caught off guard by Quinn's observation.
"You really do live for applause, don't you, Tinkerbell?"
Rachel wants nothing more than to reach out for Quinn and - and hold her.
"You need it," Quinn continues, suddenly thoughtful. She pushes her plate away and leans forward, just wanting to get closer to the brunette. "You need it," she repeats. "Just come to me, okay?"
"What?"
"If ever you need to hear how wonderful and amazing and lovely and talented and beautiful and perfect you are, just ask me, and I'll make sure you know," she says, which does absolutely nothing to help Rachel with all her confusing, all-consuming feelings.
And, that's just the thing, isn't it?
She's confused.
And Quinn deserves better than that.
They can't possibly start anything if they're not sure, and Rachel can't know if Quinn is, when she's not. It's a complicated situation, and Rachel's sure she could get overwhelmed by it if she allowed herself to think about it too hard.
Which is why calling it quits is a good idea.
Just, you know, after they wine and dine and schmooze with all the theatre people who have all the money.
"Okay," Rachel finally says.
Quinn smiles at her, and it's the kind of smile that speaks volumes to the state of their friendship. For whatever reason, Rachel feels as if they're on the cusp of something.
The edge of something.
One of them is bound to fall.
It's later, when they're both sprawled out on Quinn's couch that Rachel allows herself to relax, somewhat. This is who they are: friends. It's taken them years to get here, and she isn't going to throw it all away just because she's finding herself enjoying Quinn's sole attention a little too much.
The tension slowly bleeds out of her body because, okay, this is something she can handle. This is what being friends with Quinn is all about.
She just can't shake how unsettled the idea of there possibly being someone else in the picture makes her feel. For a moment, she allows herself to imagine what this picture would look like if Quinn were dating, say, Alessia… and she just can't.
Because, for the life of her, Rachel can't see herself in the same room as them.
Rachel wouldn't be here if Quinn was dating someone, the same way Rachel was very rarely in Quinn's presence when the blonde was dating Julia. Which, of course, could have been because she and Julia just did not get along.
At all.
To this day, Rachel still isn't sure exactly why, and Quinn is also dumbfounded by it. Santana seemed to like her enough not to insult her constantly, which was kind of the stamp of approval from the Latina. Kurt was… indifferent, Rachel supposes. He didn't have much of an opinion on the woman… until he just did.
They all did.
Honestly, Santana, Kurt and Rachel actually spent an entire evening planning what they would do if ever they saw the woman again. There was a lot of alcohol involved, and their ire was fuelled by the passed-out blonde who was asleep with her head in Rachel's lap.
It's slightly comical to think about it now, but that rage exists locked away in Rachel's gut; just waiting to be let out when the time comes. A part of her hopes it doesn't, but an even bigger part does. She has a few choice things to say to that woman.
"Hey," Quinn says, interrupting Rachel's thoughts. "You okay there? You seem to be thinking pretty hard about something."
Rachel lets out a slow breath, and then smiles at her. "Tell me how your meeting went," she says. "Am I in the presence of a soon-to-be published author?"
Quinn flushes instantly. Then, looking away, she says, "You are."
Releasing an excited squeal, Rachel moves immediately, scrambling across the couch and throwing herself at Quinn. The blonde lets out a surprised breath, and then laughs as her own arms wrap around Rachel's waist.
"Why didn't you tell me the second I walked through the door?" Rachel practically screams into Quinn's ear.
"Easy there, dear," Quinn says, pulling back slightly. "And, we kind of had a few other things to discuss."
"But this is the most important," Rachel protests, her arms tightening around Quinn's neck. She's practically draped over the blonde's body, but she's trying not to think about that too much.
Quinn chuckles lightly, the vibrations in her chest making Rachel feel decidedly warm. "I was going to tell you," she says, and relaxes into the couch. Rachel's body is pleasant and comforting, and she's definitely not complaining. "Jordan and I had a meeting with the editor yesterday. Her name is Kylie York, and she's been in the business for more than thirty years. She's responsible for some of the latest bestsellers, and I was a complete dork when I met her."
"Did you fangirl?"
"No," Quinn immediately says. Too quickly, really. "Well, not really," she concedes. "I did squeal and jump around when Jordan first told me who we'd be meeting, but I managed to get it under control by the time we sat down for lunch… until I started bombarding her with her accomplishments. It was mortifying."
Rachel just laughs, shifting slightly to rest her head on Quinn's shoulder.
"Thank God Jordan was there, or it all would have gone to shit," she mumbles. "Anyway, she did seem slightly amused by it, and we were able to move on to all the exciting stuff. I think you understand when I say that talking about and hearing people's thoughts on your work is like life. It was amazing, Rach. We just started talking about the novel, the parts she liked and the parts she was curious about, and it was just magical to be able to talk to somebody who seems as invested in my work as I am."
Rachel hums in acknowledgment. She does understand that. She always jumps at the opportunity to converse with people about Broadway and music, and she imagines Quinn does the same with words.
"We spent about an hour going over the contract," Quinn continues. "Jordan said he would have one of his lawyer friends look it over to make sure there was nothing that could, I guess, potentially prove to be a problem for me. Everything should be finalised by Monday and, once I sign on the dotted line, we start work on getting the book to market."
"How does that work, exactly?"
"Well, Kylie and I are going to go through the novel with a fine-toothed comb," she explains. "Depending on how much needs to be fixed or rewritten; that could take any number of months. I'll get an ISBN number, and then go through the process of getting the perfect cover design. There's an entire marketing plan they're drawing up. When it's ready, the book will be sent to all the big reviewers before mass release, and then there's going to be a book release party. And, uh, I think, a book tour depending on how initial sales go."
"Wow."
"I still can't believe it," Quinn muses, her voice tinted with wonder. Absently, her right hand lifts up to thread through Rachel's hair. It's such a simple, thoughtless action that she's done any number of times, but it's one of the first times Rachel is aware of the intimacy of this moment.
How can she even think about not wanting this?
Of course, she wants this.
It's when Quinn starts humming a song she doesn't recognise that Rachel makes a decision. On Sunday, she's going to end this fake relationship with Quinn.
And then she's going to kiss her.
Or, maybe, she'll just ask her out on a real date, and then see what happens from there.
"What's this I hear about you scoring an invite to the Carpenters' big event tomorrow night?"
Rachel looks up, momentarily startled by Frankie's sudden appearance. She manages a smile, small enough not to show just how big a deal this is for her.
Frankie knows, though. Of course, he knows. Every one of them would kill for an invitation to Tom and Denny's dinner party.
If Megan were still around, Rachel's sure she actually would have been worried for her own safety.
As it goes, though, her new Understudy is actually quite nice. Hannah Gayle has an amazing voice - not as good as Rachel's, of course - and she's managed to pick up the choreography surprisingly quickly for someone who's just joined the production.
Elliot isn't too worried about getting her up to speed too quickly, because he has no intention of letting anyone other than Rachel perform for at least the first six weeks of their initial open run. He even made sure to get Rachel an appointment with his own physician, to ensure she was taking all the right vitamins and keeping up with a balanced diet.
She's afraid to say that she… hasn't.
She eats out far too often, and the only home-cooked food she does eat is usually a salad she makes herself or something Quinn has decided to try out. Rachel imagines that her vegan diet is her only saving grace. It's a little difficult to indulge in delicacies when there's only so many things one can eat.
Much to Quinn's chagrin.
Rachel smiles at the thought of Quinn, and then meets Frankie's gaze. "I'm just as surprised as you are," she confesses. "How did you even find out?"
"Why? Because you didn't tell me?"
She can hear the teasing in his voice, but there's an undeniable hint of jealousy. She's not going to hold it against him, because God knows how she would be acting if it were the other way around.
"How did you find out, really?" she asks.
Frankie shrugs. "I think Tom might have mentioned it to Elliot," he says, and then takes a deep breath, as if he's trying to rein himself in. "This is a big deal, Rachel."
"I know," she says, tensing slightly. "I'm terrified."
"Why?"
"What if I end up saying or doing something stupid, and I get blacklisted or something?"
Frankie lets out a short laugh, and then pats her shoulder as he moves to sit beside her on the stage floor where she's still stretching after their extended rehearsal. "I get why that's something that worries you, but I think you're going to be fine. You've handled everything else, haven't you?"
It'll be the performance of a lifetime, Rachel thinks bitterly. "Thank you, Frankie," she says.
"Of course," he says, sighing.
She follows his line of sight to where Jasmine and Alec are also stretching. Well, Alec is stretching her, and the position, while solely a stretch, is potentially sexual.
Rachel reaches for Frankie's closest hand and gives it a squeeze. She's sure she can sympathise with him because she was forced to see Finn and Quinn together, but the first image that pops into her head is rather of Quinn and Julia.
Wait.
What?
Frankie glances at her. "I think she likes him," he says, his voice so low that Rachel strains to hear him.
"No, she doesn't," is Rachel's immediate response, and Frankie gives her a quizzical look. "He's good looking and charming, I'll give you that, but he's not the one she likes. You are."
"What?"
Rachel shakes her head. "Boys are so stupid, sometimes," she mutters. "Do you remember when she said she was sick of being single?"
"I'm sure those weren't her exact words, but she did mention something of the sort at the barbecue," he says with a huff.
"Did you notice that her eyes flicked in your direction?"
Frankie just stares blankly at her.
"She's always looking at you," Rachel continues. "I'm sure your conversations flow, because it's obvious she likes talking to you, even if it's about nonsense. She teases you, which means she's comfortable enough around you. She's just waiting for you to make your move and, from the looks of things, you're going to have to get to it, because Alec isn't one to beat around the bush if he senses someone is even remotely interested."
Frankie blinks once, twice, and then shoots to his feet. He throws a thank you, Rach over his shoulder as he rushes away, and she just laughs to herself.
The buzz of her phone catches her attention, and she lifts it from its position next to her thigh.
Kurt: Please tell me why I just had to give Quinn advice on which heels pair best with her sexy red dress.
Rachel rolls her eyes, and then facepalms. As far as Kurt's aware, she's supposed to have ended all fake anything with Quinn, and she's failed to mention that they have one more event to get through before that can happen.
Rachel: Which ones did you decide on?
Kurt: Deflecting, I see?
Rachel: We're breaking up on Sunday, Kurt.
Kurt: …
She chuckles softly. He's definitely one of a kind, this one.
Rachel: There's an event tomorrow night that I'll never be able to survive without her. Everything that needs to happen is going to happen after that.
Kurt: I hope you know what you're doing, Rachel.
The thing is that Rachel really doesn't. This coming Saturday evening feels different, for some reason. Now that Rachel knows that it's all going to come to a (hopefully temporary) end, she's almost desperate to hold onto every single moment between now and then.
Also, Rachel knows what it's like to kiss Quinn.
Sort of.
It wasn't much of a kiss, and she imagines they would do a lot better if it were actually a real kiss. Just the thought of such a thing makes her feel… funny. It's nothing she's ever experienced before, and she's still trying to wrap her head around everything that is and isn't happening with Quinn Fabray.
Rachel: Me, too.
Rachel's breath gets caught in her throat the second she lays eyes on Quinn. She hasn't even seen the dress yet - it's completely hidden by her coat - and Rachel already knows she's going to die.
"Hey, you," Quinn says, smiling when she sees Rachel approaching. They decided to meet outside Tom and Denny's apartment building, and they have just a few minutes to spare before they have to be inside.
Rachel Berry is nothing if not punctual. Particularly to such an important event such as this one.
Quinn pulls Rachel into a loose hug, absently kissing the side of her head. "How was your day?" she asks, releasing her, and then sliding her hand into the brunette's.
"It was all right," Rachel says, shrugging slightly as she leads the way into the building. "Yours?"
They pause to greet Bradley, and his smile is all too knowing. Rachel blushes under the scrutiny, and Quinn just winks at him. Rachel's sure the sight of Quinn Fabray winking at you is enough to make anyone question his or her sexuality.
Take Rachel Berry, for instance.
Quinn gets around to answering the question only once they're safely in the elevator. "I guess it was an okay day," she says. "I went for a run in Central Park, which was probably the highlight of my day." She pauses. "Until now, at least. You look stunning, Rach."
The compliment catches Rachel off guard, and she lets out a surprised squeak. "Th-thank you, Quinn," she manages to get out. "You're looking beautiful tonight," she says. Then, because she's totally out of her element, she adds, "not that you don't look beautiful on other nights. And days. You're beautiful, uh, all the time."
Quinn quirks an eyebrow when Rachel falls silent. "Thank you," she says, smiling at the red of Rachel's cheeks. She doesn't say anything more as they reach the correct floor, and the elevator doors slide open.
It takes Rachel a moment to gather herself, and then she's leading the way, once more. Her steps are suddenly sure, and she knows it's because of Quinn's hand in hers. If she has her way, she's never letting go.
This time, Rachel knocks.
It's different this time. It's not some cast party where they, essentially, hang out. No, this is a dinner party, with only a handful of important people, and Rachel is doing her best not to feel intimidated by that.
Denny opens the door a few seconds later, and her smile is wide and radiant. "Rachel, Quinn," she says; "I'm so happy you're here."
And, she genuinely looks it.
"Come in, come in," she says. "Almost everyone is here."
Rachel tenses. "Oh, I'm sorry," she says; "are we late?"
"Nonsense," Denny says, waving a dismissive hand, and then brightening when Quinn hands over the ridiculously-expensive wine she decided to bring. "Oh, wow."
Quinn just smiles.
"Thank you," Denny says. "We're definitely saving this for opening night, I think." Then: "Can I take your coats?"
And, okay, Rachel really does die a little when Quinn reveals her dress. Rachel thought she knew what to expect, but she clearly didn't. The dress is to die for, but Quinn is… perfection.
She's everything.
Rachel audibly swallows when Quinn turns back to her, a steady smile on her face.
"Ready?" she asks, holding out her hand.
Rachel doesn't even hesitate before sliding her fingers to interlock with Quinn's. This is the easy part. This is just Rachel and Quinn, and they can do this.
"There are so many people you have to meet," Denny tells them. "Go, mingle," she instructs; "I'll come find you with the really important people."
Quinn chuckles softly.
Rachel beams at the woman, and then the two of them are left alone. Quinn squeezes Rachel's hand, which is enough encouragement.
The main room is filled with only a few people. They're around eight, maybe more, but Quinn can tell that a few of them are definitely curious about their arrival. It makes her feel powerful, and it also isn't lost on her that the red of her dress is the most vibrant colour here.
The two of them are also some of the youngest.
"Okay," Quinn murmurs. "Plan of attack: get some wine and then do the rounds."
"Why do we need wine?"
"We always need wine, Rachel. Be serious."
Rachel decides it's best to leave this part to Quinn. She still feels slightly unsure of herself, but Quinn gives off this confidence that's undeniable. It practically radiates off of her, and the way she leads Rachel through the room is nothing short of pure… diabolicalness.
Is that even a word?
It's an art, that's for sure. Quinn knows how to work a room, and Rachel is mesmerised right along with everyone they come into contact with. People ask questions, and Quinn answers easily, prompting Rachel to do the same, and they fall into comfortable conversation with a handful of important people.
Rachel has to keep herself from jumping up and down when they meet some of the very people who have the power and the means to take her career to new heights. She learns about projects that are in the works, and a lot of them mention that they're eager to see her on opening night.
Which just adds to the pressure she's already feeling.
Quinn masterfully moves them along when she notices the conversation straying or growing stilted. Rachel wonders if it's the Fabray in her, or if it's something she's just picked up over the years in the tertiary world.
Eventually, they find themselves talking to an elderly gentleman by the name of Thomas Lightbox. Quinn is immediately entranced by the playwright, and the two of them embark on a conversation about Harold Pinter and Oscar Wilde, while Rachel watches Quinn as she talks, her eyes alight.
She can't bring herself to look away, her eyes focused on the tensing of her jaw and the movement of her lips as she speaks.
She's captivated, really.
"There you are," Denny says from somewhere to Quinn and Rachel's right.
Quinn's undivided attention takes a while to drift away from Thomas, and it's the only reason, really, that she doesn't immediately notice the woman at Denny's side.
"I've been looking for you two."
Rachel freezes at Quinn's side, and it takes another moment for the blonde to drag her eyes away from Thomas to give Denny her attention.
"There's someone I'd like you to meet," Denny says, so blissfully unaware. "This is my niece. She also attended Yale."
There's a moment - just the briefest of moments - where Quinn imagines that this is all some terrible, horrible nightmare.
But, it's not.
It's not at all.
Rachel steps closer to Quinn at the same time Denny says, "This is Rachel, our star, and Quinn, her girlfriend. Ladies, this is - "
It's Quinn who finishes for her.
"Julia."