I'm sure my excuses are wearing thin by now but the delay this time has been totally down to tech issues :(. Thank You for all of the reviews for the last chapter; they make my day (well most of them lol).

Chapter Twenty-two:

Snapshots of Another Life (Jesus watches over us).

"Put that down."

Rachel turned towards the wall, huddling over her slice of pizza and cradling the box on her lap. "No!"

Rolling her eyes, yet again, Quinn paid the pizza boy and said goodbye.

"Hey, don't send him away, he's hot!" She hadn't realized Santana had come through to the foyer behind her. "Don't you think he's hot, Q?"

At Santana's words the boy had stayed eagerly hovering on the doorstep, meaning she had no choice but to check him out. And, okay, he was kind of hot, by society's standards. He looked like Finn, if Finn had been blonde and a foot shorter.

"Yeah, he's hot. If you're planning to do the pizza boy can you take it to the back garden where no-one will see you."

Santana laughed as she came closer, "Night, gorgeous," she said as she slapped a dollar tip in his hand and then shut the door in his face.

Quinn didn't know whether she'd passed the test or not.

"I've put plates in the family room. So we can watch TV while we eat but everyone should dry off and get changed first so you don't drip all over the furniture." She let Santana lead the way back to the kitchen to collect their bags and take turns in the downstairs bathroom, and then bent down to pry the pepperoni slice from Rachel's hand. "That's mine."

"But it tastes good!"

"Of course it does, it has meat on it."

"I don't believe in eating meat."

"I know; which is why you need to let go of my pizza."

"Did I tell you about the chicken farms, Quinn!"

"Does pepperoni even come from chickens?"

"Don't be facetious!"

"Didn't realize I was. Are you ever going to stop being stoned?"

"I'm not . . ." Rachel paused to think, possibly. "Actually, honestly, I have no idea what I've been talking about all evening. Other than effing your ear . . ."

"Shut up!" she snapped as she looked quickly over her shoulder.

Rachel just grinned, "Everything is just a beautiful blur. Did you know this is my first ever sleepover?"

Quinn shook her head, although it wasn't a surprise.

"Thank you for another first."

Rachel looked like she was about to lunge in for a kiss so Quinn reacted fast, grabbing the remaining pizza boxes as she stood up.

"You need to get changed. I can't eat pizza with you dressed like that."

"Change into what."

"Your pyjamas of course."

"Okay. Although I don't usually sleep in the nude I suppose I can make an exception for one night."

"What? What? Why would you do that . . . why would you even think that?"

It wasn't the thought of Rachel sleeping with no clothes on that brought the rush of heat to her cheeks, no it was the thought that it was only six-thirty and they still had an entire evening in their pyjamas ahead of them and her brain wouldn't stop conjuring images of Rachel innocently eating pizza, watching movies, playing Pictionary, trading gossip and having pillow fights in the nude!

Also . . . pillow fights?

Rachel was cradling her slice of pepperoni pizza in both hands like it was a much cherished pet mouse while trying to get to her feet at the same time. The result had her rolling on her butt this way and that way before managing to get her knees underneath her. Having clearly expended more energy than she felt she had for the time being, she sat back on her heels, gave ninety-five percent of her attention back to the pizza slice she'd just happily 'discovered' in her hands and finally answered Quinn's question three minutes after it had been asked.

"Well, I don't remember you stopping to pack a bag for me on the way here and I can't change into something I don't have, Quinn."

She sighed; shifting the pizza boxes into just one hand she peered through the arch way and down the corridor to the kitchen before holding her hand out to help Rachel off of the floor. The other girl eyed her warily and made sure to finish her slice, pushing half of the crust into her mouth in one go in the most lady-like way it was possible to shove pizza into your face, before taking her proffered hand and allowing Quinn to pull her to her feet.

"You'll just have to wear some of mine."

Rachel's face lit up like Quinn had just told her the PJ's had been pre-worn by Barbra-freaking-Streisand, but in fairness she wasn't the only one who liked the idea. It only added to the fact that this was even more of a nightmare than she'd anticipated however. She should have let Rachel go to Brittany's because bringing her here, especially overnight, was foolish. They weren't friends which meant they shouldn't be spending time together socially, not even in emergencies. She was just teasing herself with things she couldn't have and leading Rachel on at the same time and it wasn't the way it should be.

"Does that mean I get to come upstairs this time?"

Maybe she should bring some pyjamas down here for her to change into with the others. It might be safer than risking a repeat of what had happened in the pantry – 'Oh yeah, because that had been sooo bad, I'd hate to have anything like that happen again, like upstairs, in my room, with a chair back hooked under the door handle for privacy . . .' – while everyone else was downstairs wondering exactly what they were doing up there alone.

Yeah, that wasn't a good idea.

"I would really like to see your bedroom, Quinn, and it only seems fair. You have seen mine on a couple of occasions now."

And the stupid thing was she wanted Rachel to see her bedroom, she wanted to show off her own small piece of the world. Very literally the only place she ever felt really at home. It wasn't as elaborately decorated as Rachel's room, in fact it was very plain and unfussy in comparison, but within those four walls and with the door firmly shut it was the only place she could every truly drop the image she projected to everyone else and just be herself and she wanted to let Rachel in and it felt awful that she shouldn't.

So it was back to compromising.

"Yeah, I guess. Wait here, okay? I'm just going to put these down."

As Rachel nodded excitedly, and wrapped her arms around her torso to wait – it had to be chilly in the foyer when you were only wearing a bikini – Quinn carried the pizza's through to the kitchen and set them on the table while looking to see who was already changed out of their swimsuits – she had two first choices and luckily one of them was free.

"Tina, can I borrow you for a minute?"

Rachel smiled politely at Tina as the girl accompanied Quinn back into the freezing cold foyer even while frowning at her presence. Hadn't they just decided to go up to Quinn's bedroom so that she could get changed? It was the perfect time and location to put the next stage of her 'Win Quinn back' plan into action. She'd almost won her over in the little room with all the tins of food with her amazing oral skills – and for once she wasn't talking about her singing – but she'd been so hungry she'd lost sight of what she was doing and why she was doing it.

That wouldn't happen again. She'd eaten the pizza with the unfairly tasty little round animals on it and felt fully sustained and ready to accomplish her mission. All she needed was two more minutes with Quinn's ear and she knew the girl would come around but that wouldn't be easy (although not impossible she was sure) if Tina was planning to join them for reasons unknown upstairs.

"Hello, Tina, um . . ." she tried to think fast for a diversion, something to send the goth girl heading in the opposite direction and forgetting all about them, but thinking at all was particularly difficult for some reason.

"Forget it, Berry, I know what you're thinking," Quinn said, smirking as she breezed past her to the stairs. "We're all going up there together."

Darn, well at least someone knew what she was thinking and the reason for Tina was now obvious. Quinn was playing hard to get again. Tina gave her an apologetic smile as they trudged up the stairs behind the blonde.

A few hallways later and they came to an unremarkable white door and then Quinn led them through it to The Magic Kingdom. As magic kingdom's went it was fairly unexceptional, as bedroom's went, it was large.

A queen size bed didn't even fill a quarter of the space and the antique vanity, large roll-top desk (which probably wasn't as old as it looked because there was a specific space for a PC tower built in beside the foot-well), the chaise lounge opposite the bed and a bookcase that took up almost all of one wall didn't do anything to diminish the volume of the room either. A family of four could comfortably live in this room if they had to. Quinn opened one of the doors on the other side of the room, leading to a walk in closet that could easily be an annex for the family of four's overnight guests.

She and Tina walked in side by side, both taking it all in – they were in Quinn Fabray's inner sanctum after all and you didn't need to be falling in love with the girl to be desperate for a look inside. The room was sophisticated in a way that made it hard to believe it was the domain of a sixteen year old girl, but then what experience did Rachel have to go on. Maybe her room was just particularly childish, although it didn't feel it to her. It wasn't like she'd expected it to be messy or for there to be band posters all over the wall, but other than the books on the shelves (of which there were a lot), a few ornamental nik-naks here and there and the clothes in the closet there was very little to stamp it with a personality, and Rachel knew Quinn had a personality, not always a very stable one but certainly an interesting one.

There were small traces though, the longer she looked. A few photos stuck into the edges of her vanity mirror of Quinn with Santana and Brittany at parties and one of them at the bowling alley that made Rachel smile. Another photo Rachel recognized immediately as the same one that graced the middle of last year's Thunderclap. Quinn was in the middle of her squad of Cheerios and holding on tight to the National Championship trophy. How many times had her own eyes glanced over that photo in the past couple of months? This copy was framed and hanging on the wall opposite her bed, signifying its importance within the room.

On one of the few shelves not filled with books was another framed picture, this time Quinn was standing with Finn in someone's (Puck's maybe?) backyard and it had probably been taken over the summer given their scant clothing and tans. The stab of jealousy was as familiar as it was unwelcome and she moved her eyes swiftly on to a small trophy from cheerleading camp and beside that a photo of Quinn in the most beautiful dusky rose-petal pink dress Rachel had ever seen, standing next to a slightly taller blonde in a wedding dress.

How she wished Tina wasn't seeing all of this with her. She wanted to quiz Quinn on all of it – Who is this? When was this taken? What did you win this for? Tell me everything! – but she didn't want to share that experience. Actually it probably didn't matter that Tina was stopping her from gushing because she felt struck-dumb just being in this room anyway.

And in a voyeuristic sense she was curious as to what Tina was getting from the little hints of Quinn they were seeing. Did she think it was strange that the three most popular girls in school were photographed at Lima's tacky bowling alley? Did she look at Finn's arms around Quinn and see nothing but a happy couple? Did she . . . Gah!

She and Tina had completed their slow three-sixty observation of the room at the same time and now both jumped back in surprise. Or maybe Tina jumped more because Rachel had just shrieked at being confronted by the unexpected; and such a large unexpected at that.

"Holy Mother of . . ." Tina stopped, hand held over her heart, and started again accurately. "Holy Son of God!"

"What's wrong?" Quinn demanded, dashing back out of her closet.

"That!" Rachel pointed at it. "You could have warned us we were being watched!"

Quinn blushed, looking unamused by their reaction, and for second Rachel thought she was going to order them both out of the room, but then she shook her head with a chuckle.

"It's just a painting."

"His eyes are following me around the room," Tina said.

"You're standing still."

"I know what you mean," she said, agreeing with Tina, not Quinn. She waved a hand in the air. "I bet I can make him blink."

"It's a painting."

"Why do you have a giant painting of Jesus in your room?"

"Why don't you have a stutter any more?"

She was vaguely aware that the other two girls were at an impasse and was about to turn and say something helpful to re-break the ice when . . .

"Guys, did you see that?" She took a hurried step back, pointing again. "He just smiled!"

"Okay, I'm not even stoned and that's freaking me out. Maybe I should . . ."

"Tina, get back here and sit down!" Ooh, that was Quinn's really pissed off voice; it was heavenly. "Rachel, stop glaring at Jesus, he's not going to hurt you, and come and pick some pyjamas."

She trotted over dutifully, checking over her shoulder almost constantly to make sure Jesus wasn't following her.

"Okay, I'm wearing these ones," she said, pointing to some yellow cotton pyjamas folded on the bed. "So that leaves you with two choices." She pointed to each in turn. "We have the hooded tiger print onesie or the blue checked flannel night shirt but if you choose the nightshirt you have to wear it with the hat." Smirking openly now, she held up a pointed nightcap, complete with a little blue bobble on the end.

What? How was she supposed to choose between Tigger and Wee Willie Winkie? They were both iconic roles in their own right!

"You actually wear the onesie?" Tina asked.

Quinn chuckled, "Of course not. I have an aunt in Florida who hasn't seen me in like five years; she still thinks I'm twelve. But it should fit Berry, right?"

"And you don't have any other normal pyjamas?"

"Sure I do, but where's the fun in that."

"Would you two stop whispering about me? I'm trying to make an important decision here."

"Hurry up, Stubbles, the pizza's are getting cold."

Rachel fingered the soft material, tugging on one of the little ears of the tiger print footsie pyjamas and then turned an equally longing look at the nightcap before fixing Quinn with earnest eyes.

"Do you by any chance have a candlestick that would complete my costume?"

Tina groaned while Quinn just chuckled again and went to a chest of drawers the other side of the bed. "Like I'm letting you near a naked flame tonight. Here." She handed over a small black flashlight. "You just modernised the role. Bathroom's through there."

Rachel snatched up the night shirt and made her way to the door before remembering something that was possibly important. "Underwear!"

"Berry, are you serious? I'd give you a can of lighter fluid and a box of matches before I let you near my panties. Wear your own or keep the bikini bottoms on."

She wriggled slightly on the spot, noting that the bikini was still a little damp, but her own underwear was downstairs with the rest of her clothes. She thought about going commando, just to teach Quinn a lesson, but that hadn't worked out so well for her last time.

She closed the bathroom door behind her and began to get changed, before forgetting that she was supposed to be rushing. She stopped to have a little look at Quinn's large selection of toiletries and after awhile she heard a conversation begin through the door.

"You're really good with her, you know."

"You make her sound like a special needs kid," Quinn sounded annoyed, which was nice. "She's just high; it'll wear off . . . eventually."

"No, I didn't just mean today."

"So what do you mean?"

"I guess we, um, all sort of expected her to go missing after the truth came out."

Quinn laughed but Rachel didn't hear her say anything.

"I mean she blackmailed you and made everyone think something that wasn't true, anyone would have wanted to make her life a living hell after that and you could have, easily, but you've been . . ."

"What have I been, Tina?"

The urge to be nosy left Rachel at the sound of Quinn's voice turning dangerous and she moved to the door. Not to open it obviously, it was just easier to hear what was being said from here.

"Understanding. Most kids in school wouldn't be, you know that. And it is . . . it is Rachel after all. I mean, she's okay, I don't have anything against her, but she's not most people's first choice for an admirer, is she?"

Rachel fumed quietly, with one hand on the doorknob ready to rush out there and defend herself, but some masochistic part of her wanted to see what Quinn would say. She couldn't defend her, wouldn't say 'Hey, actually I love having Manhands as my same-sex admirer', so how would she deal with this? And did she know her bathroom door was thin enough for Rachel to hear every word of the conversation?

"I don't really know what you're getting at."

"I'm not getting at anything. It's just, we were talking earlier and, well, I think everyone else wants to think there's something going on because you're being so nice, but I just wanted to say that I think it's cool, that you're . . . taking it . . . her crush on you . . . in stride and not, like, killing her or making her life miserable. That's all, you know?"

"I see." Oh, Barbra, Tina was the one who was going to get killed. "I appreciate your support in a matter that is really none of your business, but do you know who could actually benefit from it? The girl you're gossiping about."

"I'm not gos—"

"Maybe not here with me, but you've just admitted you were earlier. Berry's the one who's heartbroken, so don't you think she's the one who could use you as a friend right now, rather than me."

"I . . . guess."

"And as for why I'm being so understanding? She just ate nearly a dozen spiked cupcakes to protect me and my baby. I might not like her but that's the kind of thing that at least deserves respect, don't you think?"

"It does."

Okay, Rachel hadn't been expecting that. It made her feel all warm and gooey inside and, darn it, fall for Quinn just that little bit more. How much further could she fall until she'd fallen all the way? It wasn't really important. What was important was doubling her efforts to make sure Quinn was there to catch her when she reached the bottom.

"Besides," Quinn's tone was softened by a conspiratorial chuckle. "It has its funny side. She's about to face Santana and Mercedes dressed as Wee Willie Winkie. Do you think anyone else could get her to do that?"

Rachel looked at the nightshirt she'd draped over the towel rack in outrage. She'd been really excited about wearing it and Quinn was just trying to get her to look stupid in front of the others? She hefted the flash-light in her hand, it wasn't big enough to do much damage but could probably cause quite a bruise if she wielded it right!

"But she likes it," came Tina's confused response.

"Of course she does. Where's the fun if she doesn't. Berry's happy, Santana and Mercedes are going to have a field day; I'm an awesome hostess."

"But aren't you worried her feelings will get hurt? After everything you just said about respect."

'Yes, Quinn, aren't you worried about my feelings! At all?'

"Firstly, no, why would I worry about her feelings? She's doesn't care about mine when she keeps coming on to me. Secondly, no. There's no need to. Berry takes everything they say with a pinch of salt because she knows she's way better than what they think of her."

Rachel dropped the flash-light to the side and wondered if in the silence outside Quinn was trying to think of a way to take back her words.

"Yeah, I guess she is."

She dropped the flashlight altogether when Tina said that, even if it had been a little hesitant, and then startled badly when Quinn thumped the bathroom door just an inch from her nose.

"Are you done yet, Stubbles? Hurry up!" Quieter, she heard Quinn add, "I'd leave her up here if I wasn't worried she'd start macking on my pillow."

"Just coming!" Grinning, she pulled the nightshirt on – it felt so soft against her skin and she wondered how often Quinn had worn it – took a second to fix her hair in the mirror, grabbed the flashlight back from the floor and left the bathroom. "I'm ready."

Quinn's eyes warmed up instantly when she turned to look at her so maybe she wasn't the only one appreciating her costume choice in a good way. Then she smirked, "Don't forget the cap," and held it out for her.

Rachel took it and went back into the bathroom as she pulled it on, making sure it was sitting right in the mirror. She considered a jaunty angle but decided to go for the more traditional approach instead, she was already using a flashlight, she didn't want to lose all of the authenticity of the role.

Re-emerging, she asked, "How do I look?"

"Really cute," Quinn drawled sarcastically, before giving her a wink that Tina couldn't see. Then she turned to the other girl. "Wouldn't you say?"

It was possible Tina hadn't picked up on the false sarcasm or perhaps she was still thinking about Quinn's earlier words but she gave Rachel an encouraging smile. "You actually do look really cute."

She beamed and was quick to return the compliment, "You look stunning, I love those pyjamas."

Tina looked down at her deep purple satin pyjamas shyly. "Thanks. I actually just bought them before we came over. I think I left the tag in."

Giggling, Rachel went behind the other girl to check and yep. "Quinn, do you have any scissors?"

"Yes, and if anyone compliments my pyjamas I might let you use them."

Rachel looked around Tina's shoulders to see Quinn's loose yellow bedroom attire. She must have gotten changed while she was in the bathroom. They looked so warm and summery she felt an instant urge to go and snuggle with them. It was probably best to refrain though.

"Okay, I think I have the perfect Shakespearean soliloquy prepared for just this occasion." She struck a pose, one hand held out dramatically towards Quinn. "Shall I compare thee to a Summer's . . ."

"I'll pass!" Quinn decided with a roll of her eyes and fetched the scissors from her desk as Rachel and Tina giggled.