Thank you for all the reviews :) and sorry about the massive delay, it's been a really busy couple of months. It shouldn't happen again.

Chapter Five: Dating in the Dark.

Rachel shuffled her low-heeled, thin-strapped dress shoes under the only street lamp in the back parking lot of the Lima Community Arts Center, as she wondered whether to press call or not. She'd had the phone in her hand for ten minutes, her home number on the screen for five but she wasn't ready to give up hope yet.

She was close to it though. After all, Quinn may have turned up that morning but she'd been over an hour late, and Rachel was not standing outside for an hour on an extremely crisp late September evening. She wasn't even wearing a coat!

She'd already walked back around to the front once, in case Quinn had forgotten or changed her mind and waited there instead, but upon seeing Mrs. Pierce – Brittany's mom – exit the center with a couple of other women, she'd had to dive into the bushes and crawl back around the building. Why? She didn't know, because it wasn't like Quinn was anywhere around to even be associated with her!

Now the hem of her dress and the toes of her expensive shoes were covered in mud and Rachel wasn't getting any happier.

Her thumb was actually touching the green button when the red Volkswagen came around the corner and into the nearly empty parking lot at break-neck speed and turned in a tight almost-circle before pulling smoothly up beside Rachel's lamp post.

Quinn hopped out, already apologizing, "I'm sorry I'm late. There was this thing. I couldn't get away… Oh wow!" Quinn stopped a foot away and looked her up and down, "You look…" Then she looked herself up and down and started laughing, "Oops."

"I look what? Muddy?" She didn't appreciate this reaction to the amount of effort she had put in, "That's because I had to hide in the bushes from Brittany's mom and, as I did that for you, I'd really appreciate it if you didn't mock me for it."

"Not mocking you, mocking me. You look awesome and I look… like this."

"What do you mean? You look wonderful."

She had changed into her Cheerios uniform, which Rachel found a little odd for a date but Rachel wasn't put off by it. On the contrary, she was happy that Quinn felt so comfortable being herself with her and she was always stunning no matter what she wore. Tonight she looked especially beautiful, her eyes quick and lively as she grinned and whistled low at Rachel's dress, with a healthy color in her cheeks for a change. Her hair was loose and tousled and Quinn raked a hand absently through it as she shook her head.

"No, you look amazing, but where on earth did you think I'd be taking you for you to get dressed up like that?"

"I don't know," she admitted shyly, "I just wanted to look nice for our date."

"I'd say you accomplished it," Quinn opened the passenger door for her.

"So, where are we going?"

"Oh God," Quinn groaned, "You're going to hate me."

They'd made two stops along the way – one at Walmart so that Quinn could run in for some supplies, like real cutlery and cheap china plates, and one at the Golden Duck to pick up their Chinese food.

Now they were parked as far as possible from the train tracks while still being in the empty Lima Freight Yards. She could tell Rachel wasn't exactly happy about the location of their date, but the other girl hadn't said as much, going along easily with it despite her disappointment.

"Did you want to eat in the front or the back?"

"Whatever you want is fine, Quinn."

"Back, then. If we can't see the steering wheel, maybe we can pretend we're not eating in a car."

Rachel gave her a small smile and then clambered through the seats into the back. She held out her hands to take the boxes of food, the plates, the knives, and the forks before Quinn climbed through too, with the stack of paper napkins and a couple of bottles of sparkling water.

"You didn't have to buy real plates. Paper ones would have sufficed, though since they're not particularly friendly to the planet, we could have eaten straight from the boxes. It is take-out after all."

Quinn nodded, "I know, I just didn't want to screw up our first date. I mean, if I was dating a guy and he took me to a make-out spot with boxed Chinese food for our first date, I'd think he was pretty cheap. Or I was. One of the two. Especially if I was dressed like you are now."

Rachel stopped scooping food onto her plate to look up at her, "I don't think you're cheap. And in light of our situation it's sort of roman–"

Across the yard a train rushed noisily though the darkness and Rachel jumped at the scare, almost dumping her dinner into the pocket on the back of the passenger seat, "–tic," she finished with a wry smirk as Quinn laughed quietly, "As for my outfit… I've been waiting for an occasion to wear it. My fathers bought it for me over the summer, soI'd have something nice for school dances and such but, well, I haven't been to any yet so…" with a small shrug, she went back to preparing her plate.

"In that case, I'm even more pleased that I scared Mike away from taking you to Homecoming."

"Why?"

"Well, not only can I not have anyone looking better than me at those things, it also would have totally ruined everything. Not being able to take my eyes off of you all night would have put a serious dent in the credibility of my Are-you-nuts!-I-don't-have-a-thing-for-Rachel-Berry! act."

Rachel smiled at the compliment then shook her head like she didn't really believe it.

"Seriously, Rachel, you look gorgeous," and she really did. The jasmine cocktail dress complimented her skin-tone and figure beautifully. Quinn was about to eagerly seal it with a kiss before a forkful of noodles got in the way. Crap, she was already leaning too close to abort the move without looking obvious and stupid. Her cheeks grew hot as she recoiled from flubbing what was supposed to be a smooth move and she irritably stabbed a fork into her own meal, self-consciously clearing her throat, "I honestly didn't know you had it in you."

Rachel watched Quinn cringe at herself, while chewing and swallowing slowly before she asked, "Would you like me to disregard that last remark?"

Not looking up, she gave a slight nod, accompanied by a whispered, "Please. Sorry."

They ate in silence for a while, plates balanced on their knees, sitting far enough apart that they could have been wearing their seatbelts. The distance wasn't a result of the awkwardness caused by Quinn's kneejerk mean-ness, but because the food cartons were on the middle seat between them, it felt like it.

It wasn't long, however, before Rachel's inability to keep her mouth shut provoked her into conversation, "How was the rest of your afternoon?"

"It was okay."

"That's a little vague, Quinn. Okay how?"

"Are you asking me how things went with Finn?"

"Of course not; I'm not allowed to ask you about Finn."

Quinn sighed at Rachel's passive-aggressiveness but still answered the question she wasn't being asked, "It went okay. It was awful and tense at first but we talked things through, and I think we're going to be all right."

"I'm glad."

Yeah, Quinn could tell by her tone just how glad Rachel was, "You should be, we dodged the bullet."

"Yes, at least now I don't have to worry about finding your replacement when you transfer."

"My replacement?" Quinn cocked an eyebrow, "So if I transferred, you'd dump me just like that?" After everything she'd done for her! "I'm that disposable to you?"

Rachel frowned, "Your replacement in Glee, Quinn. Obviously, if you left the school, you couldn't sing in New Directions anymore and – as you took great joy in pointing out to me a few days ago – we need at least twelve members to perform at competition level."

"Oh," her cheeks burned and something – she didn't know what yet but it was going to be more bitter than the honey chicken and boiled rice on her plate – was on the tip of her tongue.

Rachel knew that glint in her eyes and beat her to it sharply, "If so much as one mean word comes out of your mouth now, not only will you be wearing the remaining contents of these boxes, Quinn Fabray, but you will also be spending the rest of this date and any dates we may have in the future alone. Understood?"

Quinn bit her lip against the enjoyment she found in feisty-Rachel and nodded, "Understood. If only because I don't particularly want my car to be the scene of what I can only imagine would be an epic food fight to the death."

Rachel visibly relaxed but her voice remained stern, "Then don't cause me to noodle you."

"Now who's talking dirty?"

Rachel blushed and laughed.

"Seriously, though, I think everything's going to be okay with Finn. I'm going to have to spend more time with him – because he's feeling a little neglected, which isn't fair – but I managed to talk him down from breaking up with me. Santana's going to be more difficult…"

"You're dating Santana, too?"

"Ha, you're funny. She's not going to let this go. Even if she didn't think it was true, she'd be all over an opportunity like this. I have ways of keeping her on the leash, but they're drastic and could just make everything worse. I'm not sure what to do about her yet, other than to just keep denying everything she implies. Brittany, I need to have a talk with."

"Why?"

"Because there is no doubt in my mind that she knows, and while I don't think she would ever use it against me, she has a habit of blurting out her observations indiscriminately. One sideways glance between us at the wrong time and she'll tell anybody what a great couple we make."

Rachel beamed, "You think we make a great couple?"

Quinn rolled her eyes, "I don't know what sort of couple we'd make, and it's irrelevant because we're not a couple. Which is kind of the point; I have to make sure Britt knows that."

Rachel pushed the last of her food around her plate, "Are we ever going to be a couple?"

"It hasn't even been twenty-four hours, Rachel. Stop trying to rush things."

"Fine, but we're going to have to discuss the nature of our acquaintanceship at some point if it is to continue."

"Okay, but what is there really to discuss? You like me, I like you, and I left a date with Finn to be here," she chuckled, "In fact, I used the flimsiest excuse ever to walk out of a party, at a time when I really can't afford to arouse any more suspicion, to be here with you. So I think that really says everything I need to say."

"You were at a party earlier?"

Quinn paused mid-chew, tensing as she tried to get a sense of what emotion was coloring Rachel's tone. It was harder than usual, like she was being deliberately careful, and while it was maddening that Rachel had only heard the damning part of her short speech and not the important parts, she didn't seem to be looking for fight about it.

"At Matt's," she explained after she'd swallowed her bite, "I didn't want to go, but Finn really wanted me to, and it was starting early so I thought I should compromise. I had a plan to get out of there by seven-fifteen but then I got into this big thing with Mike and he ruined my plan."

Rachel's eyes were wide again, "A big thing with Mike? Oh no. You didn't throw something at him did you?"

"No, not this time."

"So, you had an argument with him?"

"You could call it that," she said sheepishly, and looking back, she felt silly over how invested she'd been.

"Oh no, Quinn. While I do admit to finding your jealousy enticing at times, please tell me you didn't get into a physical confrontation with him."

"Calm down, Berry! It wasn't like we had a fist fight. I just raced him on Wii Ski."

"What?" Rachel started laughing, "Seriously?"

"The competition did get a little intense and, well… yeah. Incidentally, he knows too."

"Really? You're sure?"

"Yes, I think I made myself pretty clear."

Seriously, if Rachel's eyes kept getting that wide, her eyeballs were going to land on her plate in a minute. "You… what?"

"Let's just leave it at he knows," Rachel was suddenly grinning like a lunatic and while it wasn't really appropriate for the occasion, Quinn grinned too, "It was stupid; I shouldn't have done it, but…" she shrugged and popped her last forkful into her mouth.

"Wait a minute, you were late for our date because you were playing video games?"

Laughing at Rachel's utter indignation, Quinn told her the tale of her exit, of how she'd forgotten to speak to Finn quietly ahead of time, and how everyone else had decided to weigh in on her health when she just wanted to run out the door. In the process, she accidentally let the guest list slip.

"Kurt was there?"

Quinn winced at the sadness in Rachel's voice, but surely it was better to hear this from her than read it on Facebook tomorrow, "Yes, Matt invited everyone."

"Everyone except for me, apparently."

She wanted to say it was all Mike's fault, but one look at Rachel's carefully controlled face made her hold her tongue. Instead, she methodically cleared the space between them, giving Rachel a moment to blink back her tears unscrutinised, before she took both her hands to tug her closer.

Rachel resisted at first, "I'm fine, Quinn. It's not the first time, and I honestly don't hold you responsible, so…"

"I know you're fine, because you're stronger than any of them," Quinn promised, but didn't let up until she had pulled Rachel across the seat and into her arms, and with one last heaved sigh of defiance, Rachel gave up and snuggled in.

Okay, so this was cozy. She squinted down at the head resting on her shoulder and tried not to feel uncomfortable. She'd set out to comfort Rachel and it was silly to get weird now just because she was close enough to do what she'd… well, set out to do! It was just that, she'd never been very good at the comforting thing and it was even harder now, when Rachel being this close sent all sorts of wrong messages to her brain. She just had to keep talking, find her way through this with words, "I was angry when I found out you hadn't been invited. I mean, the one time Finn could have used his little crush on you for something that wouldn't piss me off, and he let it slide right by him."

Rachel looked up, "Finn still has a crush on me?"

Guiding Rachel's head back down, she rolled her eyes with a smile, "Hush, not the point of the story. I was angry and I knew you'd be upset, but then I realized it was a blessing."

"How can my hurtful ostracization from our social circle ever be a blessing?"

"Think about it: if you had been invited, there was no way we could both leave without everyone knowing why, even if we'd left an hour apart it still would have been obvious. Our date would have consisted of us standing on opposite sides of the room, not speaking unless it was me being a bitch to you, and that would have been an even lamer first date than this."

"This isn't lame," Rachel said softly, cuddling tighter and then laughed just as softly. "Well, perhaps it is a little."

Quinn frowned, "Hey, I thought you said it was romantic."

"It is! And for a first attempt it's a solid… six."

"Six?" Seriously? She was a better date than a six, "I brought food and everything!"

"Which is why you get the six," Rachel rubbed the arm around her shoulders reassuringly – or perhaps to stop it from tightening into a strangle-hold, "Without it you would have been nudging at the underside of a four."

"That's a three," she said flatly.

"Quinn, what did you expect? We're sitting in the dark in the back of your car! The only way to make that work is choosing the right location, and sadly this is not a drive-in movie theater. The only entertainment we have is the trains passing, and we're not even facing the right way for those."

"I thought we'd find ways to entertain each other," Quinn winced at the double-entendre.

Thankfully, Rachel was too caught up in her rant now to notice any verbal slips on Quinn's part, "And you're wearing your uniform! Please don't misunderstand, I find it very alluring – sexy even – but it's hardly suitable attire for a date! Perhaps I went overboard with my outfit but it's only fair to agree that you went wholly underboard with yours."

"I thought you liked my uniform."

"I've just said that I do appreciate some of its qualities, but above all else it is a symbol of status and, quite frankly, the status it symbolizes is something I'm really not in love with. Isn't it enough that I have to cope with having feelings for the head cheerleader in public? In private I had hoped you would just be Quinn."

She was just Quinn! She plucked at the front of her skirt, it was only material, "Don't go easy on me, will you," she muttered petulantly.

"All I do is go easy on you and look where it gets me!" Rachel waved her hands around in the darkness and burst out laughing.

"Well, it's not like I can take you to Breadstix."

"You could, you just won't," Rachel corrected her, "but it's not the secluded nature of the date that's in question; I'm not opposed to us being here. I'm just pointing out that with a few personal touches you could have made it more special."

She didn't know what to say to that. She couldn't argue that she'd spent hours planning this because she hadn't. Even picking up take-out had been somewhat of an afterthought, because she had only had two slices of pizza for dinner.

"I suppose I just expected more from a date with the most popular girl in school. This really is nice though," Rachel hurried to add, catching at Quinn's wrist when she tried to pull her arm free.

Quinn left her arm limply around her shoulders, but their position was distinctly less cozy than it had been, "So, you want the perks of being with the most popular girl in school but without the reality of it."

"Yes. In a nutshell."

A nutshell? Rachel should be in a nutshell, a padded one. You couldn't take the Cheerios out of the Cheerios captain; that team was what had made her great, "Are you serious? Do you think I achieved popularity with my sweet and sunny disposition and dedication to getting good grades?" Rachel looked like she was thinking about it and Quinn quickly decided she didn't actually want to have her popularity dissected under Rachel Berry's high-intensity microscope, "Fine, I won't wear it again on dates. You're very hard work sometimes, Berry, did you know that?"

"It has been said. I happen to think I'm worth the extra effort though."

"You would," Quinn shook head with a wry grin and resisted the compulsion to agree with her. Rachel's ego was large enough as it was, "I am sorry this is such a crappy date. I didn't put enough thought into it. Only, you didn't seem to mind it here so much last night."

"Last night it made sense for you to bring me to an out-dated make-out spot, tonight it's just…"

"Go on, you can say it: tacky."

Rachel didn't say it, she just pressed into her side with a giggle

Another train rushed by with a clatter of wheels, making her stiffen up at the sudden interruption. If they were going to keep coming here, she was going to have to study a timetable so that she was ready for them and didn't nearly have a heart attack every time. Quinn's arms tightened around her for a moment, keeping her safe from the big, bad train and bringing a smile to Rachel lips. Then the warm pad of Quinn's thumb was rubbing soothingly back and forth across her collarbone.

This was the first time that she could remember Quinn holding her like this. Normally it was the other way around, with Quinn's nose resting delicately – or not – against her neck. This was different though, and nothing to do with morning sickness, which made a nice change. Quinn's head was resting on the back of the seat but turned towards her enough that her even breaths tickled strands of Rachel's hair.

Rachel closed her eyes as the train's echo died away and a sense of peace filled the car, only disturbed by their breathing; which wasn't really a disturbance at all – they even breathed beautifully together! She thought about pointing that out but didn't want to break the moment. Instead, she inhaled deeply, allowing Quinn's hair to override the mingled lingering scents of pine air-freshener, left-over Chinese food, and the smoky diesel smell from outside, before sighing it back, completely at ease with life as she knew it.

She was also feeling sleepy, as she often did after eating Chinese food, and she blinked her eyes open before she accidentally dozed off. The white in Quinn's uniform was the only thing to stand out, almost glowing in the muted shadows of the dark car. The streetlight they'd parked under to give them some light while they were eating highlighted Rachel's hand as it moved in slow, delicate strokes over Quinn's stomach. Her fingertips brushed over the hem of Quinn's Cheerios top, flicking it back and pulling it down again, before slipping beneath to feel the soft, toned skin.

It was a bold move but a happy sigh dropped from Quinn's lips as she pushed lightly into the contact and Rachel considered that to be a good sign. She watched her hidden hand move, liking the way the cool fabric moved and settled over her knuckles in contrast to Quinn's warmth beneath her palm.

And all the while Quinn's fingers stroked her skin, raising goose bumps in their path and eliciting delicious little shivers inside her. Quinn's hands were as warm as her stomach, making her touch all the more pleasant now that the car had grown cold with the early fall evening air seeping in to replace the previous heat caused by the engine and the steaming food.

Rachel hadn't wanted to ruin the overall look of her outfit with a cardigan or jacket that didn't match so she had left the house without either. Which she'd realized while waiting for Quinn to arrive had been a foolish decision, but now it didn't really matter that her arms and shoulders and everywhere below her knees were bare or that the bottom of her dress was a little damp. Quinn was providing enough heat; in fact Rachel was surprised she wasn't steaming as much as the food had been.

"This feels so nice and relaxing I could fall asleep," she said, breaking what had been nearly ten minutes of silence.

Quinn's fingers paused for a moment before resuming their graceful stroking, and Rachel could hear the chuckle in her voice as she asked, "Really, you don't want to do anything else?"

Rachel sat up a little to stretch, trying to wake herself up but it was too much hard work and she instantly missed being pressed against Quinn's side. She fell gently back to where she had been, squeezing Quinn's waist once in contented bliss before carrying on drawing random patterns across her stomach.

"What else is there to do?"

Quinn took a few seconds to answer, proving that she couldn't think of anything either, "I don't know, but we're on a date, Rachel. And I'm pretty sure that traditionally if your date falls asleep it should be counted as a bad one."

"I don't believe in conforming to tradition. We should make our own date rules."

The fingers grazing her collarbone pushed palm-flat for a moment as Quinn shifted beside her to whisper in her ear, "Okay, let's do that. I think the first rule should be: no falling asleep on dates."

"Fine, I won't fall asleep," the fact that Quinn's fingertips were now travelling marginally south of her collarbone was certainly going to help with that. Should Rachel tell her? No, there was no point saying something that might embarrass her – or make her stop! – for something so innocent, "But what can we do? Your car does offer limited activity options."

There was another pause; Quinn was probably feeling bad again, "I suppose it does… a little."

"I'm still thoroughly enjoying myself," she said, hoping to put her back at ease.

Quinn leaned down to whisper in her ear, her left hand accidentally drifting lower until her hot fingertips were skating just above her low neckline, "You are?"

Rachel's mouth went dry as her mind went blank, leaving her body free to react inappropriately to the accidental stimulation, and she watched through wide eyes as her hand slid possessively under Quinn's tight Cheerios top, then up and around to pull her closer.

"Damn, Rachel!" The breathy reprimand made her feel guilty.

The fact that it caused a definite spike in her arousal made her feel even guiltier, but not in a way that made her want to say sorry. She liked the new position she'd created, which had somehow tangled her in Quinn's strong arms even more and pushed that innocently wandering hand to what seemed to be an especially sensitive area just above her modest cleavage!

Actually, if she'd been with anyone else, she wouldn't have thought that hand so innocent anymore, but she knew she could trust Quinn to keep things wholesome and the least she could do was attempt the same.

"So, what did you want to do? Do you have any cards? I'm an excellent card player. I've never lost a game of Go Fish to my dads," she rambled.

"I don't keep a deck of cards in my car."

"O-okay, we could put the radio on?"

"I don't want to drain the battery."

No, Rachel didn't want that either. It was positively cozy inside the car now, but she didn't want to spend the night out here… with the trains.

"That's unfortunate. I suppose we could play I-Spy; it's not very sophisticated bu–…"

Quinn's fingers slid down her dress and Rachel lost all coherent thought.

'Shit, what did I just do!'

She'd pushed her hand down the front of Rachel's dress, that's what she'd done.

It was dead center, so she was barely actually touching anything worth this panic attack, but it was still down there and – as there was probably no way of passing this off as an accident and retreating gracefully – Quinn was going to go ahead and panic.

She hadn't meant to do it, but she'd been losing her mind a little. She'd been kind of turned on ever since she'd seen Rachel in this dress, and when their cuddling began to include gentle fingers tracing and exploring bare skin the kind of part had dropped away and it had been all Quinn could do not to grab Rachel by the face and kiss her senseless.

Ever-mindful of how quickly she had run out of control the night before, she restrained the impulse every time it rose up with an efficiency she felt proud of… right up until Rachel's clueless-ness broke every last strand of her patience. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry; it had all been going so well and now here she was with her hand down the front of Rachel's dress and Rachel sounded like she hyperventilating.

And, she realized, it was even worse than she'd thought.

"You're not wearing a bra!"

"I don't own any that are strapless and my training bras would have looked silly with this dress."

She hadn't meant to sound accusing, she was just shocked, and, great, now Rachel was freaking out even more.

She just couldn't help herself though, "Training bra, Rachel, seriously?"

"Quinn, your hand is currently down the front of my dress, so please could you not revert to your default state of discomfort right now!"

"Sorry, sorry!" At least it gave her an excuse to withdraw her hand and use the attached arm to hug Rachel in apology instead, "I just freaked out for a second."

"You freaked out for a second?!"

"I'm still freaking out!"

"So am I!"

They shared a moment of heavy breathing and darting, anxious eyes.

"Okay, this is okay. We'll just delete it. Forget that it ever happened."

Rachel nodded and then abruptly switched to shaking her head, "It was unexpected and possibly a great deal too soon, but I don't want to forget it. It felt nice."

"It did?"

"Yes, and it's not like you inappropriately groped me or anything."

"No, I just inappropriately stuck my hand between your breasts!"

Rachel laughed, which made her feel a little better, "Maybe it would have been more okay if you'd started at the beginning."

They were face-to-face now, all of the activity understandably causing Rachel to stop resting against her shoulder.

"What's the beginning?" she asked and then had a duh moment as Rachel leaned in to kiss her.

She met it eagerly, perhaps too eagerly, seeing as Rachel seemed to be going for chaste – but seriously? Chaste right now? Rachel's lips soon caught up and then they were kissing properly. Quinn used the hand on the back of her neck to hold her close and Rachel's fingers trickled down from under her top to lay against her hip while her other arm curled around Quinn's back. That gave Quinn just one hand left to move – it was starting to feel like a game of twister – and she knew exactly where she wanted to move it to: Right hand, breast.

She stayed above the dress this time though.

Rachel moaned into her mouth and it was the most awesome feeling ever.

When they had to take a second to bring oxygen on board – initiated by Rachel who was practically panting from what Quinn was doing to her breast, something that would make Quinn grin like an idiot when she had time to think back on it – Quinn's lips trailed over her jaw and down the slender column of her neck. Good God, she loved this dress. The spaghetti straps offered so much more bare skin compared to the sweaters and shirts that she was used to seeing Rachel in, which made her get a little carried away again, offering the base of Rachel's throat so much love with her lips that Rachel soon had a fistful of her hair.

Her lips charted the new terrain until they were pecking along Rachel's collar bone. Quinn knew she was going too fast; she was still getting used to being okay with kissing Rachel's lips and now she was kissing her chest! But, damn, the smooth skin felt too good to let her think straight.

"Quinn!" Rachel's voice trembled.

"If this is too much, I can stop," she mumbled, "At least, I think I can stop."

"No, I don't want you to stop, it's just…"

"What?"

Rachel's answer was to move her hand up significantly higher, until she was timidly touching the black stripe at the base of the WMHS logo on her chest.

Quinn smiled in understanding, nodding slightly, "Sure." And then she surprised the both of them by adding, "You don't have to ask."

"I don't?" Rachel's shock was unmistakable and Quinn had to chuckle.

"Here, now, in this car, at this moment… you don't have to ask."

"Oh," Rachel swallowed hard, "Um…"

"Over the bra, naturally," she added helpfully, because kissing Rachel was really freeing but that didn't mean she had to come across as a total slut. She read the thought about to come out of Rachel's mouth easily, "I didn't know you weren't wearing a bra, did I?"

Giggling, Rachel kissed her, and Quinn felt that feeling swell again. Doubly so as Rachel's hands began moving over her top and what she lacked in experience she made up for in zeal. It felt amazing. Almost too amazing and she had to force her own hand down to the safe zone of Rachel's waist before she could embarrass herself again.

Rachel whimpered into her mouth, pouting against her lips.

"Wear appropriate underwear next time then," she muttered, forehead resting against Rachel's as she took a second to breathe.

"Or you could just… pretend I am now."

"Don't!" It was a plea, not a reprimand.

"Sorry. I didn't mean that."

"Really?"

"Honestly. It's just that your hands are so hot and my boobs are feeling pretty chilly and…"

Quinn laughter cut her off, "That sounds like a guy's version of honestly to me."

Rachel smiled wickedly as she leaned into kiss her again, just as her fingernail scraped over the capital 'W' of her logo, and over her nipple beneath. She groaned, far too wantonly, and dragged her hand down Rachel's side and over her hip before it could break free from her strict control and plunge down the front of Rachel's dress again.

Because there were lines she couldn't – shouldn't – cross, even with Rachel's consent.

Figuring out she'd done something good, Rachel did it again and again and Quinn's hand moved restlessly over Rachel's hip, up and down, accidentally snagging in her dress. In the back of her mind, she thought about wrinkles and smoothed it out again. Rachel mewled into her mouth, one hand sliding up to cup her cheek, pulling their lips harder together.

What had she done to bring out that reaction? When had she started stroking Rachel's thigh? She had a feeling the two answers were connected somehow.

She liked the reaction though – really liked it – so she didn't stop.

Tongues would be good. Tongues would be really good right now; she was going to go for it.

"Your hand is about to get dirty."

Quinn froze. Wow, if that hadn't sounded exactly like Rachel she would have thought it was Jesus talking.

"I… I…"

"The hem of my dress is still muddy, from crawling through the bushes, I just thought I should warn you," Rachel breathed out before capturing her lips again.

Oh. That was all. She mentally breathed a sigh of relief that Rachel wasn't channelling the Son of God. Now she came to notice it the hem of the dress was gritty under her palm, and damp. Wait, when had her hand drifted down that low? Apparently there were some lines she was willing to cross, like a hem-line for example.

Her fingers moved from grainy dampness to warm, smooth thigh and back again – quickly – because that had scared her a little. Then she had to say something to lighten the tension rolling low in her stomach.

"You know, if I was channeling my inner guy I'd feed you a line like: We should get you out of these wet clothes before you catch a chill."

Rachel gave a husky chuckle and Quinn smiled before pressing their lips back together, fingertips still flirting with the hem, going from dress to skin and back again, over and over. She was probably painting Rachel in muddy fingerprints but she didn't care; the contrast in textures – wet, rough, hot, smooth – was too pleasurable to resist. So were the little shivers running through Rachel every time her mud-dampened fingertips grazed her thigh.

Intoxicating.

"The zipper is on the left."

The dual sensation of desire heatedly pooling into her groin and a panic as effective as a physical slap in the face made her freeze again, possibly forever this time.

Her lips felt too numb to speak, but she managed, "What?"

"On my dress, it's under my left arm."

Rachel didn't even seem to notice she was suddenly kissing the equivalent of some pretty waxwork.

"Where the hell is the zipper on this thing, anyway?"

"What?"

"How do I get you out of this damn dress?"

"Puck! You're not taking off my dress!"

"Fine," it might have sounded sullen if she couldn't see the grin on his lips, "I can work around it."

"No, Puck!" She pushed his hands away from her homecoming dress. Perching the way she was on a desk was no easy task, and she almost fell.

His hands steadied her, "What do you mean, no? Then why the hell else did you drag me in here?"

"I just… look, just shut up and kiss me, okay?" He complied, but it was only a minute or two before she felt her dress being raised again and she pulled back, "Stop doing that!"

"Q!" he burst out in frustration, before calmly trying to reason with her, "Babe, I don't mind you using me to convince yourself you're not into Berry, but you gotta give me a little…"

"That's not what I'm doing!"

Except it was, sort of, at least. Everyone had watched Finn walk away from her, it had been mortifying and terrifying, and how she hadn't gone to pieces right there on the dancefloor, she'd never know.

"Then if you're really into this, why won't you at least let me get my hand up there?"

"Because… you're a jackass!"

"Whatever. Face it, Fabray, you're as into chicks as I am. No other reason why you wouldn't wanna tap the Puckasauras again."

"I am not!"

He laughed at her! "Prove it."

She wanted to slap him. Instead, she pulled him by the back of his neck back to her lips and when his hands began their inevitable journey again she didn't slap them away.

She had, eventually, but not before they'd been trying to tug her underwear down. That was when she'd slapped him, which he'd taken surprisingly well. Although he hadn't said more than a couple of words to her while he was walking her out to the parking lot and driving her home; she'd been too drunk to drive herself. He hadn't even commented on her crying, had only rifled through her small handbag for her keys – which she had yelled at him for and he'd taken no notice of – before walking her to the front door and offering a quiet goodnight.

When she'd woken up that morning, wondering how she was going to manage walking to school for her car when she couldn't even leave the bathroom for more than five minutes, her father had come upstairs to scold her for leaving her car unlocked and with the keys in the ignition all night.

She'd apologized profusely for her carelessness, citing the lateness of the hour – her curfew had been extended for the dance to midnight – having so many bags to bring into the house that she hadn't had a hand free for her key, and that she was sorry but she must have forgotten she'd left them.

It was flimsy at best, but her dad just shook his head, giving her a pained why-did-I-have-daughters smile before telling her to make sure it never happened again.

She'd promised, and wasn't sure whether to be mad at Puck for bringing the car back or not. If her dad had found out she'd left it at school he'd obviously want to know why. In the end, she reverted to her usual status quo these days with Puck and decided that being mad at him was totally justified.

Right now, though, she just felt like shit. Shame ate at her until she had to pull away from Rachel's kisses entirely, "Stop it!"

"What's wrong?"

"What do you think is wrong?" she demanded, knowing she was just going to make herself feel worse in the long run, but needing to lash out, to release her anger before it turned into more pathetic tears.

Rachel was panting lightly, studying her face, and then her eyes were the size of saucers. "Ohhh! The dress! Quinn, I didn't… it's just that, well, I like you and I got carried away but I never really meant… or at least I never expected… and it's not like I ever wanted my first time to be in the backseat of a car… Quinn, please say something!"

What could she say? That she'd cheated on her last night? Worse, she'd used Puck to try and block out the fact that she wanted to do things like take off Rachel's dress? That she was currently feeling angry and guilty and ashamed and that having Rachel's hands on her wasn't helping? That it was just multiplying all of those feelings because it made her want it more? And she couldn't, she just couldn't.

"How can you think I'd even want to do that with you," she growled, "Let alone yet?"

"I can't say I was really thinking at all. It's just that you seemed like you might be feeling the same."

"I wasn't."

She had been, until she'd tripped on memory lane and it had come up to smack her in the face.

The look of apology in Rachel's eyes was suddenly replaced by irate disbelief, "You were!"

"I wasn't," she repeated roughly, "I was enjoying kissing you, but you just had to go and push it."

"You pushed it first!"

"I apologized for that!" Which didn't really refute Rachel's argument, but Quinn didn't care.

She slid toward the door and pulled on the lever.

Rachel caught her other arm, "If you need to pray, Quinn, do it in here. It's not safe out there."

"I'm not going to pray, you idiot!" Although she would later – a lot. She was anticipating a full night of murmuring quietly to her Savior, in fact, "I'm getting in the front."

"Why?"

"Because our date is definitely over."

She pulled her arm free and hopped out of the car before Rachel could make another attempt to stop her. By the time she'd moved the plates and food cartons from front to back, Rachel had scrambled through the gap and was in the passenger seat, glaring at her. She looked more forlorn than angry though, which Quinn refused to acknowledge as she took her seat behind the wheel and wasted no time in starting the engine.

They were halfway across Lima before Rachel broke the silence.

"Are you really mad at me?"

No.

"Yes. You crossed a line, Rachel. I told you last night I wasn't ready for… that."

"Neither am I! I just got caught up in the moment!"

"Yes, well you shouldn't have."

This really wasn't making her feel any better. She didn't want to end their date with an argument; she didn't want to end it at all – it wasn't even nine yet! But at the same time, it was making her feel better, because she kept getting carried away too. She kept getting caught up in the moment. If Rachel's suggestion hadn't triggered that awful memory from last night, would they be driving down Upper Fourth Street yelling at each other right now? Or would they still be in the freight yards, with Rachel's dress picking up lint from the floor of the car?

So, this was good. They needed to set clear boundaries about what was and wasn't acceptable physically, and if they had to do it via an argument instead of when they were getting along, then so be it.

"You're being very unreasonable about this, Quinn."

"And you're behaving like a horny boy, Rachel. And if that's what I wanted I'd be with a boy."

"Well, maybe you should be. Considering the idea of being with me apparently turns your stomach."

"I never said that!"

The thought of being with Puck last night was what really turned her stomach and, God, how she wished that wasn't true. Especially in this minute.

"You're doing an exceptionally good job of implying it, though."

"Oh, just… shut up!"

Rachel did, crossing her arms and staring out of the passenger window for the duration of the journey. Quinn knew she had to be really pissed because she didn't even put the radio on.

Pulling on to Rachel's cul-de-sac, she gruffly asked, "Are your parents home?"

"Yes, so don't think I'm inviting you in. I am much too annoyed with you right now to be able to act nice in front of them, so don't even think it."

"I wouldn't come in even if you did invite me," she rolled her eyes because now she sounded like a ten year old! She was being ridiculous. Rachel made her feel ridiculous.

Actually, Rachel made her feel everything. She hit the full spectrum of emotions from good to bad. It was maddening, but… well, that was the point: it was everything.

Instead of swinging into the Berry driveway like usual, she pulled up to the curb and cut the lights and engine, not wanting LeRoy coming out to say hello while they were bitching at each other like this. Their so-called friendship was still so new, that the Berry's would probably take it the wrong way and assume that Quinn was bullying their precious daughter or something instead of it being totally mutual. She didn't need that obstacle on top of the dozens they already had.

God, all she seemed to do these days was damage control! Hadn't life been fun once? Yeah, about twenty minutes ago, before she'd started yelling at Rachel.

So… maybe she should stop. At least for tonight.

She turned in her seat toward her, trying to think of something to say that would alleviate the animosity between them, so that they could end their first date on a marginally better note than this one.

Rachel had other ideas, "Goodnight, Quinn. Thank you for dinner." Her hand was already on the door handle.

"Wait!"

Rachel didn't.

Cursing under her breath, Quinn threw open the driver's door and ran out after her. The street was quiet but she took a quick look around for late-night dog walkers or any curtains twitching as she caught up with Rachel.

"I said wait."

Rachel marched on, eyes front, even though Quinn was right beside her now. She grabbed her hand and dug her heels in, literally, to force the girl to stop.

"I said, wait."

Rachel looked down at their hands, then at Quinn, and then back to her front door, "It's cold out here, Quinn, and so if you don't mind I'd like to get inside."

"That's fine. Just let me walk you."

"I'm quite capable of walking myself."

Quinn smiled, a chuckle escaping as she remembered the last time she'd walked Rachel to the front door. When she had very much not been able to walk herself.

Showing amusement was clearly a bad move, because Rachel scowled at her and tried to pull her hand away. Quinn didn't let her, and instead started for the porch, taking her time while also keeping a close eye on the front windows to make sure one of Rachel's dads didn't suddenly appear.

Rachel, with several huffs to let her know she was still displeased, consented to walk at her pace, hand in hand. She could feel the girl's shivers through the connection and felt a little guilty for not letting her rush straight into the warm house; but if she did, their first date would always count as a bad memory and Quinn had enough of those already. She thought about asking Rachel to wait while she ran back to the car for her Cheerios jacket, but she suspected the romantic gesture of sliding it around Rachel's shoulders would be wasted because Rachel wouldn't wait and Quinn would be left standing in the driveway, jacket in hand, looking like an idiot.

She walked a little faster to make up for it.

"Are you that eager to get rid of me?"

Quinn glared but turned it away from Rachel.

The porch wasn't deep but it was enough so that anyone standing on the step couldn't be seen from the windows. Rachel tried to pull her hand away again, and this time Quinn allowed it, standing awkwardly beside her while she wondered what to do next. She'd assumed they'd talk on the short walk from car to front door, but Rachel had been bristling with such enmity that she hadn't been able to find the words that would make things better.

That left only one thing to do.

"I appreciate you're professionalism as to the end of our date, Quinn," Rachel said as she searched for her keys in her little clutch purse, "But now I'm safely on the doorstep you can…"

"Oh, just shut up!"

She pushed Rachel back against the door with one hand, using her other to cover the peephole – because you could never be too careful – and then covered Rachel's lips with her own.

Rachel automatically kissed back for a moment before she remembered she was mad and pushed at her shoulders. Quinn let herself be pushed back but not too far.

"What are you doing?" Rachel whispered sharply.

"What does it look like I'm doing, moron? I'm kissing you goodnight," she whispered back just as sharply.

"Oh."

The surprise in that small syllable was all the incentive Quinn needed and she kissed her again, pulling back just as Rachel started to return it.

"You wanted me to, right?"

Dark eyes met hers seriously, filled with uncertainty, and then – as gingerly as if there were live explosives inside her head – she nodded.

Good.

Her lips tasted like spicy peanut sauce and Quinn's own raspberry lip-gloss – it was surprisingly moreish. Or… not surprisingly, since she already knew Rachel's lips were her new favorite flavor no matter how they tasted. And she wasn't complaining or anything, but she'd actually meant for this to be a short, sweet kiss – fitting for the doorstep at the end of a first date – and this was rapidly turning into not that. Rachel's hands were sliding up her neck and into her hair, holding her close and causing her head to tingle deliciously all in one go.

It came back to her, and yes the timing was completely inappropriate, how much she loved pinning Rachel to things. And this was the first time she'd been able to kiss her at the same time, at least for more than a few seconds. She pressed Rachel into the door with the length of her body and ran a hand slowly, teasingly up her side…

Rachel pulled back, breathless but stern, "Don't even think I'm going to let you touch my breast right now, Quinn Fabray!"

"I wasn't! And could you shush?"

From the closed window to their left came the muted sounds of a talk show on the TV and from somewhere deeper in the house was a soft but persistent rumble – the washing machine or dishwasher maybe – but Rachel's clear voice tended to carry, especially when she forgot she was supposed to be whispering.

Rachel made no show of looking sorry. Sighing, Quinn dropped her hand back to Rachel's waist and tried to kiss her again.

Rachel avoided it, "You've kissed me goodnight. Now I think you should leave."

Quinn kissed her jaw, then the side of her neck and felt Rachel quiver, "You don't mean that."

"We're on my doorstep, Quinn! And you're still not coming in," her breath hitched, "No matter how lovely that feels." Her head tilted to the side as she spoke, inviting Quinn to keep kissing down her neck.

"I don't want to come in," she murmured, before lightly sucking the place where neck met chin, "I'm tired already and you're exhausting to be around, Berry."

"I resent that insult!"

"Then take it as a compliment instead," which was at least half how she'd meant it anyway. Rachel pushed her away forcefully enough that Quinn had to take notice, "What's wrong?"

"I don't know. Us, maybe."

God, if even Rachel thought this was wrong, then maybe it was. And maybe she needed to start listening to all those other voices instead of striving so hard to hear that lonely one telling her it was okay to like Rachel.

But then Rachel looked down, tilting her head in a way that would usually hide her face behind her hair but she'd worn it up tonight, leaving her no way to hide the single silent tear sliding down her cheek. And just like that, that one little voice was louder than ever; in fact it was singing. It was singing Celine-freaking-Dion.

"Hey, come here. We're not wrong, we're just… challenging," she whispered, free hand sliding behind Rachel's neck as she tried to guide those downturned lips back to hers.

Tried and failed. Rachel made small, jerky movements with her head up, down, left and right to avoid her. Sighing after half a dozen missed attempts, Quinn stopped aiming for the bullseye and settled for placing kisses on those areas Rachel presented to her – chin, cheek, the bridge of her nose, her other cheek, end her nose, eyeball – yuck. That last one was a mistake, but it made Rachel giggle and look up at her and… aha! Lips.

Lips that tried to wriggle away but Quinn had a firm grip on them with her own. She wasn't letting them get away this time!

She knew she'd won this round when Rachel parted her lips willingly, whimpering into her mouth and then there was a sharp sting as strong teeth nipped her vulnerable flesh.

Quinn pulled away and calmly stated, "Ow."

"Serves you right." Rachel told her smugly. "At least I know how to take no for an answer."

"I can take no for an answer. I just don't get why you're saying no. Why are you? Is that it? We have one little argument…" Rachel scoffed, crossing her arms again. Quinn looked down at their feet because it was better than looking into Rachel's merciless eyes, "Just tell me what this means; are you through kissing me for good?" It was hard to keep cold indifference in her voice when her lower lip was trying to tremble. Rachel didn't answer, which was as good as a yes, really, "Fine. I'll get out of your way. Sorry I screwed things up." Still nothing. She pushed off of the door and turned to leave before she said something she regretted, "Bye."

Rachel's purse hit the porch tiles with a jangle as small hands clutched the back of her top. Quinn turned and nearly smacked them away as they prevented her escape, "What is it now?" her voice sounded violent all on its own anyway.

"Can I see you tomorrow?"

She sneered at the anxious plea, "Why would you want to?"

"I don't know, I just want to."

That was not a good answer, especially when Quinn could think of a dozen reasons off the top of her head for why she wanted to see Rachel tomorrow. And I just want to wasn't even at the top of the list, although it was on there, obviously.

"No, you can't. I have church in the morning, and then I'm going out with Finn for the afternoon, and Sunday evenings are family-time."

"Can't you skip it?"

"Which one?" she asked impatiently.

"Well, any of them, but I was mostly thinking family-time because while I would prefer for you to be with me instead of Finn, I agree with you that neglecting him is unfair. He deserves better than that."

"Thank you for your completely unsolicited advice on my relationship. And no, I can't skip family-time, not just to hang out with you."

Rachel was pouting and looked near tears again. Quinn rolled her eyes, she hadn't actually meant for that to come out as bitchy. It was true, it had to be a very special occasion or a school or church sanctioned event for her to be allowed out of the house after six-thirty on a Sunday.

"Well, if that's how you feel…"

"Rachel!" she sighed, "I'm going to see you Monday."

"Yes, when I won't be allowed to speak to you or look at you or… or kiss you."

"How is that relevant? You don't want to kiss me now!"

"Of course I do! I want to kiss you so much; too much."

"You can't kiss me too much."

"Really? Your earlier outburst would beg to differ."

That's what this was about? Rachel was scared of getting yelled at again? Considering the volume and content of said yelling it was understandable, but that didn't make it any less stupid.

"That wasn't about kissing," she reminded her, failing to add that it hadn't really been about any of the accusations she'd flung at the girl either.

"Yes, but kissing you always leads – extremely quickly may I say – to me wanting more."

Quinn grinned, she couldn't help it. Rachel so readily admitting that she affected her so much was… she was going to go with awesome, because the actual word was a little too trigger-y right now, and if she started yelling again, she wouldn't be surprised if Rachel didn't just outright punch her in the face.

"So, let's make it simple with some ground rules."

Rachel groaned, imploring the roof of the porch, "More rules?"

"Don't be a faker, Rachel, you know you love rules. Especially my rules," smirking, she stepped closer until Rachel was back against the door and looking up at her.

"That's false information. I detest your rules and find them both degrading and unnecessary. What I do, in fact, love is breaking your rules."

The sultry tone was okay, but the mischievous look felt less like an observation of fact and more like a portent of coming danger.

"I don't know what you're about to suggest, but no."

Rachel pouted again but it was playful this time, "Fine, tell me your new ground rules and I'll tell you if I'm amenable to them."

"Okay. First, we both have to lighten up a little. I overreacted earlier because you freaked me out–" It was truth by omission, if that was a thing, "–and I need to try to stop freaking out over being with you," Rachel nodded in agreement, but she hadn't finished, "You need to stop trying to push us. I don't mean physically, I'll get to that in a minute, but with everything else. We are what we are right now, and…"

"Which is?" Rachel pushed.

She let her have that one, "Casual. Maybe we'll be more at some point, but you trying to rush things isn't going to make it come any sooner. Let's get used to this first."

Truthfully, they were already beyond casual – Quinn hadn't even left yet and she already couldn't wait to see Rachel again Monday morning – but if Rachel needed a label, that was the only one she felt comfortable giving.

"Okay, we both have areas we need to work on," Rachel said through chattering teeth.

"You're freezing!"

"Yes, I am a little. Next ground rule please?"

"Freakshow," she said affectionately, with a roll of her eyes, as she pulled Rachel into her arms. The other girl stiffened warily and she chuckled, "Hey, I'm not getting fresh, just warming you up."

"Oh. Thank you. You are still exceptionally warm for someone with the reputation of a cold-blooded snake."

She laughed softly, "Maybe it's a baby thing. Or, I don't know, but I don't feel cold when I'm with you."

Rachel smiled up at her and Quinn didn't even realize she was drifting down to feel it until Rachel cleared her throat and said, "Ground rule number two?"

"Oh, right. Hands stay above the waist at all times."

"Need I remind you that it was your hand that broke that rule earlier?"

"No, you needn't, and it contributed largely towards ruining our date, which is why I think it is important to abide by it in future."

There was some slight hesitation before Rachel nodded, "I find that acceptable but I request a follow up question."

"This isn't a trial."

"Is there a time period on rule two?"

"Meaning?"

"Is it a rule we can revisit in… say a week, to see if perhaps we are both feeling differently by then?"

Quinn spluttered out a laugh, "In a week? No! Bring it back to the table in six months and we'll talk."

It was Rachel's turn to splutter-laugh, "Six months? Seriously? You want to wait six months before we even discuss taking our rel… casual dating farther?"

She frowned; six months seemed reasonable. She'd been dating Finn for six months now and he'd never gotten beyond her bra – let alone further south – and she didn't envisage that happening for some time to come either. If ever, at this point. On the other hand – hand being the literal word – she'd been very interested in the skin just beneath Rachel's dress earlier…

Which was why they needed the ground rules in the first place! Six months suddenly seemed like a really long time, though. She was about to compromise with three, but Rachel's shining eyes caught her attention.

"What?" she whispered, wondering what the big spontaneous smile was for.

"You still think we'll be together in six months?"

"I, uh, um," that completely threw her, but she couldn't exactly tell Rachel no, nor did she feel like she wanted to.

That seemed to be enough for Rachel and she pushed up onto her tiptoes to kiss her. Kiss her so well that Quinn's toes curled and her fingernails dug into Rachel's back though her dress. Rachel hissed and kissed her harder; Quinn lost every thought in her head that wasn't Yessss!

She pushed her back against the door again, because damn it just felt so good to kiss her when she was pressed all against her like this. The only way it could feel better was if she was pushing her into a mattress instead of a door. But that was a thought for another day, six months from now. Or maybe three. Or maybe…

She had just enough brainpower left that wasn't being completely drowned by the feel of Rachel's lips to realize that her hand wasn't on the door anymore, but locked around Rachel's waist. Reluctantly, she pulled it up to cover the peephole again with her palm.

Rachel whimpered about it, thankfully without breaking the glorious bond their lips were enjoying, and Quinn shrugged to convey better safe than sorry. It probably lost something in translation but neither of them cared enough to interpret it, anyway.

This was what every kiss should be like, and actually was like when Rachel was the one she was kissing. It made six months seem easy; it made forever seem easy. It made waiting six months seem less easy. Ground rules, she tried to think, but it was meaningless in her head right now, like when you said a word too many times and it lost all connotation. Other words that were rapidly going the same way were "abstinence," "self-control," and "common sense."

"Six weeks."

Quinn didn't have to ask, "Three months," she mumbled back.

"Two months."

"Ten weeks."

Kissing. Kissing. Kissing.

"Nine."

"Now!"

The thought of it coupled with Rachel's demanding growl made her skin blaze all over so God knows how she managed to chuckle against Rachel's lips, "Easy, tiger!"

"Sorry, forget I said that," Rachel murmured before re-catching her lips.

Quinn indulged her for a few seconds – okay, maybe a minute – before dragging her lips to the side so she could speak, "I'm not forgetting. I'm going to hold you to it in nine weeks."

More kissing, how did kissing never feel this good before?

"I should probably warn you, that even though I know it's breaking the rules, if you keep kissing me like this I'm going to try and talk you down even further."

"I'm open to that debate," she breathed against Rachel's lips as the previously sturdy door suddenly gave under her palm, and the next thing Quinn knew, she was falling sideways with no way of stopping herself.

She was vaguely aware of Rachel trying to catch her, but she was way too slow, and instead strong arms stopped her descent and pulled her back against a broad, muscled chest.

She took a second to catch her breath before looking up into the upside down surprised face of Hiram Berry.

"Good evening, sir," she smiled uncomfortably. "So, would you say my second impression is at least a little better than my first?"

Thanks for reading :)