Glee Fic: These Strange Steps Trace Us Back
Title: These Strange Steps Trace Us Back
Pairing: Rachel/Quinn, Brittany/Santana
Word Count: 3900
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It’s the summer before Quinn begins her junior year, and life is perfect in a way she never thought possible
Spoilers: Through "Sectionals."
Notes: Hi, it's been a while. Sorry! :)
It’s the summer before Quinn begins her junior year, and life is perfect in a way she never thought possible after the seemingly endless drama of sophomore year.
She’s laying in the lush grass of Brittany’s backyard, the sun’s heat is making her bare skin prickle with warmth, and with Santana and Brittany splayed out on either side of her, it feels just like last summer - uncomplicated.
Maybe there’s something special about the season in general, Quinn thinks, adjusting the ties of her swim top.
Or maybe there’s something special about actually having her life back. Not entirely, sure. She’s still living with Brittany, for one, and she’s certain her relationship with her parents has been permanently scarred, but she has her friends back and Quinn’s grown up enough to realize that’s almost all she needs.
Also, they sang a song from The Lion King that was all about friendship one afternoon in glee that may or may not have made her cry.
“I’m getting more lemonade,” Brittany announces, interrupting Quinn’s thoughts. She leaps to her feet and bounds toward the house, but not before leaning down and kissing Santana’s cheek.
“You guys are sickening,” Quinn drawls without malice once Brittany’s out of earshot.
“I know,” Santana sighs. She doesn’t sound completely annoyed by the statement, which is…interesting. The fact that Quinn can even take the time to properly care about other people’s lives still amuses her.
She stretches her arms and arches her back. The feeling of her spine cracking brings a smile to her face. The freedom she feels now, one baby girl lighter, is extraordinary. She’s still not entirely used to it, even though Santana stopped calling her Tubbers a while ago.
She drops her hands to her stomach and lets them rest there, feeling it rise and fall with each breath. It’s another reminder of the way things used to be.
“Q,” Santana snaps. “I know you’re, like, good looking again, but quit feeling yourself up.”
Quinn laughs.
It’s going to be a good summer.
-----
Kurt throws a party for the club. Quinn wonders if the term “party” is even applicable for a group of twelve glee kids, but whatever. They’re all friends now, in a way.
Puck hands over her third wine cooler with a smile half on its way to a smirk, says, “Getting ready for round two?”
Before Quinn can even roll her eyes in response, Mercedes is right there next to him, glaring. “Back off, Mr. T. None of us are ready for another round of Babygate.” Puck gapes at her before he nods solemnly, and Quinn marvels at the absurdity of Noah Puckerman taking orders from Mercedes Jones in Kurt Hummel’s backyard.
A lot can change in a year.
Quinn wanders away, sipping the fruity drink, looking nowhere in particular until she spots Rachel across the yard, sitting with her back against a tree, staring away from the party. She briefly contemplates leaving Rachel alone, but she’s curious and kind of bored so she walks over slowly.
“Can I sit?” Quinn asks. Rachel jumps slightly and her head whips around. She nods and shrugs one shoulder at the same time.
Quinn settles on the cool grass next to Rachel, closer than intended, but she’s a little tipsy already. Rachel smells like suntan lotion and their shoulders brush whenever Quinn breathes deeply. It’s not entirely unpleasant. She’s sat next to Rachel before, of course, but always during glee or during a performance in some institutional building, surrounded by people. This, here, sitting against a tree in the fading sunlight feels different. It makes Quinn uncomfortable for a reason she can’t (won’t) acknowledge.
The silence abruptly changes from comfortable to tense, so Quinn asks the first question that comes to mind.
“Why are you alone?”
“I’m just thinking.”
“About what?” The question leaves her mouth before Quinn can stop herself from asking. She doesn’t even know why she cares about Berry’s thoughts, and judging from the look Rachel’s giving her, she’s wondering the same thing.
“I’m thinking about how nice it is to have friends,” Rachel answers, her gaze turning toward the ground. Quinn nods slowly, even though Rachel probably can’t see it.
“I know the feeling,” Quinn murmurs. Rachel looks up again in interest.
“You’ve always had friends.”
“Not like this.” Quinn lifts her bottle, pointing it at Finn holding court with a laughing Artie and Tina. Rachel smiles briefly as she watches Tina hug Artie’s shoulders from behind.
Quinn suddenly knows there’s something she needs to do that she’s been putting off for months. She drains half of her third cooler in three long sips, and sighs. “I think I should apologize to you.”
Rachel’s gaze snaps to Quinn for one instant before she looks around wildly, as though she’s about to be tricked. Quinn tries not to roll her eyes (really) but she can’t help it. “Pay attention, Berry, this is a one-time offer.” Rachel focuses on Quinn. Her eyes are wary, almost fearful, and now Quinn is doubly sure that this is the right thing to do. “I’m sorry for being awful to you. Things are different now, I guess, but I thought I should apologize properly. So.”
“Thank you,” Rachel says softly, “but why are you saying this tonight?”
“You have to make everything difficult, don’t you?” Quinn mutters. “I’m trying to do The Right Thing, okay?” She hopes Rachel can hear the implied capital letters in that sentence.
Rachel nods and looks away in a poor attempt to hide her smile. “So,” she says after a long beat, her dark eyes once again settling on Quinn. “Are we friends now?”
And maybe it’s the coolers, or possibly the warm, breezy air that’s making her feel lazy and wonderful, but Quinn doesn’t hesitate before she smiles. “I think we are.” Rachel bites her lip, like she’s trying not to grin, and Quinn’s smile widens involuntarily. “Who would’ve thought?”
“Actually,” Rachel begins slowly, “I always had a feeling we would be.”
-----
Rachel calls one morning when she’s at the diner with Brittany and Santana. Her phone display reads Rachel Whatsherface calling and Quinn laughs, causing Brittany to smile and Santana to roll her eyes.
“Too early for laughter, Fabray,” Santana growls into her coffee mug.
“Hey,” Quinn half-laughs into her phone.
“Good morning,” Rachel responds. “I was wondering if you would like to get together today, since we mutually agreed upon our friendship.”
“Did you write this down before you called?” Quinn asks. There’s a slight pause on the other end of the phone, and Quinn can easily imagine Rachel’s blush.
“Yes. There’s nothing wrong with being prepared, and I’ve never exactly called you to hang out before, have I? A script is merely a precaution to avoid any uncomfortable silences.”
“You’re such a freak sometimes, Berry,” Quinn sighs. “Come to the diner near school; we’ll wait to order.”
Santana glares over the rim of her mug.
As it turns out, eating breakfast with Rachel Berry isn’t all that strange. Granted, Brittany is carrying the conversation like a champion and has been ever since Rachel’s dad dropped her off, but Quinn only rolls her eyes once at Rachel. She finds herself smiling more often than not, at things that would have made her gag on her pancakes a year prior.
Eventually, Brittany and Santana decide to get handsy, which is expected, but Quinn still snipes, “We’re in public, you morons,” even though her heart isn’t really in it. Rachel looks mildly uncomfortable, so Quinn throws fifteen dollars down onto the table and says, “We’ll leave them to it. I don’t want to be here when they’re inevitably arrested for indecent exposure.”
Rachel follows her outside and they sit side by side on the curb while Rachel texts one of her dads for a ride.
“How long will they be?”
“Depends,” Quinn smiles. She closes her eyes and tilts her head back, letting the sun warm her face.
After a while, Rachel quietly says, “I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Like what?”
Quinn opens her eyes when Rachel doesn’t respond right away and finds the other girl staring at her like she’s a mystery. It makes Quinn’s stomach flip and forces her to look away again.
“Happy, I guess,” Rachel finally answers. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile so much.”
Rachel’s dad pulls up just then, and Quinn breathes a sigh of relief.
They stand, and Rachel kicks the toe of her sneaker against the pavement, her lip caught between her teeth. She looks nervous. “We should do this again.” It sounds more like a question than a statement.
“Soon,” Quinn nods. Rachel’s face breaks out into a blinding smile, the one Quinn best remembers from afternoons in glee club. It makes her heart ache in an unfamiliar way.
“I’m going to hug you,” Rachel warns, and then she steps forward and embraces Quinn awkwardly before she has a chance to object. She lifts her arms and loosely wraps them around Rachel.
It manages to feel wrong and right at the same time, and Quinn’s stomach is flipping uncomfortably again. It’s definitely the weirdest hug she’s ever been a part of, she decides.
Rachel pulls away first. Her smile is gone and the tips of her ears are faintly red.
Quinn raises her hand in a half-hearted attempt at waving before she spins on her heel and starts walking down the street just to avoid looking at Rachel any more than necessary.
She doesn’t know where she’s going, but Brittany and Santana won’t be done for a while, anyway.
-----
Quinn changes Rachel’s name in her contacts from Rachel Whatsherface to Rachel Berry. Just Rachel feels too familiar, like she’s getting too close to something she doesn’t really understand.
-----
It’s during a particularly hot afternoon that Quinn finds herself sitting on the blessedly cool cement in a patch of shade on Brittany’s patio, listening to a song she doesn’t recognize emanating from the iPod dock on the table.
Her shirt is sticking to her back uncomfortably, and even with her hair piled messily atop her head, beads of sweat are persistently forming at the base of her skull.
“Screw this,” Santana mutters. “Either we go for ice cream or we’re breaking into someone’s yard to use their pool.”
Jumping into an ice cold pool is extremely tempting, but Quinn doesn’t feel up to committing any crimes today, so ice cream it is.
“You should invite Rachel,” Brittany says lightly as they pile into her car.
“Is she one of us now?” Santana sneers from the passenger seat.
Brittany ignores her tone as she starts the ignition. “Glee club is supposed to stick together, S.”
They both turn to stare at Quinn, awaiting her decision. She wants to see Rachel again; she’s been thinking about finding the courage or insanity to just call her and ask her to come over to Brit’s to hang out or whatever it is that new friends do.
Just the thought of Rachel’s ridiculously wide grin makes Quinn’s lips twitch up in a miniature smile, and she hides this disturbing reaction by sighing loudly and sounding as bored as possible. “Sure, whatever, I doubt she has any other offers.”
-----
Quinn is sprawled out on the grass of Brittany’s backyard again, but this time she’s alone and under the stars instead of the hot sun.
She likes boys. She likes kissing them; she likes their height and their strong arms and sometimes even their immaturity.
But she’s starting to think that she likes Rachel, too. She likes Rachel’s singing and her dark eyes and her crazy smile and - just, everything.
Maybe Rachel’s the exception.
-----
Maybe she could be Rachel’s exception.
The thought makes her grin into her pillow.
-----
They hang out again, the four of them, this time at the park.
Santana immediately commandeers the two good swings for herself and Brittany, leaving Rachel and Quinn to balance on the dodgy ones on the other set that creak loudly with every movement.
They aren’t swinging anymore, just swaying slowly and watching the sun edge its way out of the sky across the field.
“I kind of thought tonight would be just the two of us,” Rachel whispers out of nowhere.
Quinn digs her feet into the sand and stops moving entirely. “Is that what you want?” she questions slowly, carefully.
“Yes.”
Quinn’s heart leaps into her throat and her stomach churns like she just flipped upside down on the swing. “We’ll go to a movie, then.” Her voice is kind of breathless. She’s mortified, but Rachel is smiling so widely her face is in danger of breaking.
-----
“You asked Berry out on a date, you idiot,” Santana states.
“I didn’t mean to,” Quinn snaps. “I don’t know if she knows that, though.”
“Be nice, you two,” Brittany chirps from the sofa.
Santana rolls her eyes, but her tone is decidedly nicer when she asks, “Can’t you just call her? Jesus, Q, you’ve done scarier things in your life.”
Brittany nods wisely.
“Whatever,” Quinn huffs. “I’ll just see how she acts.”
Brittany and Santana share one of their Quinn’s being stupid glances, but this entire situation is ridiculous and frightening and Quinn doesn’t think winging it is the worst plan ever.
-----
“Winging it is the worst plan ever,” Quinn moans. Her voice is muffled by her bed, but Brittany seems to get the gist of it because she starts to rub soothing circles on Quinn’s back.
It’s the night - the night - and Quinn has no idea what to wear or how to act when one goes to the movies with another girl on what is maybe a date and maybe not and now she’s just brought back her headache from earlier.
“You’ll be fine,” Brittany murmurs.
Santana covers her bark of laughter with a cough. “You know,” she says airily, “this has pretty much become the gayest summer in the history of Lima.”
Quinn moans into the bed again.
-----
Quinn twirls Brittany’s car keys around her finger and compulsively tugs down the hem of her tank top while she waits on Rachel’s doorstep.
She thinks about ringing the doorbell again, it seems like it’s been forever, but maybe time is just moving strangely because her nerves are frying her brain.
The door swings open without warning and Quinn is suddenly face-to-face with Rachel.
“Hello,” Rachel says brightly, like they’re just in the halls of McKinley and meeting up to walk to glee. This is most definitely not a date, thank God, but why does she feel something oddly similar to disappointment in the pit of her stomach? Quinn wishes she had something like pregnancy hormones to blame for this absurd sensation.
Rachel grabs her hand and pulls her toward Brittany’s car. Quinn’s heart abruptly decides to relocate to her esophagus.
Maybe this is a date.
It is all way too confusing.
She feels emotional whiplash and realizes she still hasn’t said anything, like, way to act like a freakshow. “Hi.”
Rachel seems to process her tone and stares down at their joined hands. Her face pales and she drops Quinn’s hand like it’s scalding hot. “Oh. I-I just assumed this was….”
This is her way out, Quinn thinks. She could play it off, stay friends forever, ignore everything between them and continue on in her ultra-repressed existence. Or she could just take Rachel’s stupid hand.
She takes Rachel’s stupid hand.
Rachel’s smile is luminous in the fading light, and Quinn thinks it almost makes up for the fact that Santana will never let her live this down.
-----
“That was an awful movie,” Rachel states as they exit the theater.
“Was it?” Quinn spent half of the movie staring blankly at the screen and the other half sneaking glances at Rachel, trying and failing to understand why she’s on a date with Rachel Berry.
As they near the car, Rachel reaches over and grabs Quinn’s hand like it’s nothing, like one year ago Quinn didn’t live to make her life miserable.
“I don’t understand this,” Quinn snaps, unintentionally harsh. She briefly tightens her grip on Rachel’s hand as an apology, and her next words come out softer. “I don’t understand you.”
“I think that’s okay for now,” Rachel shrugs. They stop walking when they reach Brittany’s car. “I don’t fully understand you, either.”
-----
The drive back to Rachel’s house is filled with a potent mix of tension and uncertainty.
Quinn throws the car into park and shuts off the ignition. The following silence feels deafening.
After an agonizingly quiet minute, Rachel clears her throat and says, “I believe this is where I say I had a great time.”
“Did you, though?”
Rachel appears to give the question serious consideration before answering, “Yes, actually.” Quinn breathes out in relief and feels her death grip on the steering wheel loosen slightly before Rachel continues, “You could kiss me goodnight, if you’d like. I mean, that is the proper thing to do.”
Quinn’s head whips around to face Rachel so fast she feels dizzy, or perhaps she’s going into shock because Rachel Berry wants to kiss her, and if that’s the case she really should articulate her need for an ambulance, but her throat feels startlingly dry and Quinn doesn’t think she can exactly speak at the moment.
She’s just sitting there, staring at Rachel, her brain a scrambled mess when one thought abruptly makes itself clear in a voice eerily similar to Coach Sylvester’s: Do something, you moron.
She releases the steering wheel and shifts in her seat until she’s facing Rachel as best as possible in the cramped quarters. Rachel’s eyes widen, and Quinn wonders if Rachel believed that Quinn would say no, because her brown eyes look both scared and excited.
Quinn tilts forward slowly, resting one hand on the passenger seat dangerously close to Rachel’s leg, stopping only when their faces are inches apart and she’s straining to maintain her focus on Rachel’s face. Last chance to back out, she wants to say, but the words won’t form, so she tries to convey it with her eyes instead.
Rachel just licks her lips, which Quinn interprets as go for it.
Quinn leans in and brushes her lips against Rachel’s in a feather-light, testing kiss.
The reaction is immediate.
Rachel gasps slightly and presses forward eagerly, her mouth meeting Quinn’s without any hesitation. Quinn kisses back on instinct, captures Rachel’s lower lip with her teeth briefly and marvels at the small whimper the other girl releases and how it sends a jolt through her entire body.
Quinn slides her hand from its spot on the seat to the edge of Rachel’s skirt and toys lightly with the hem before running her fingertips across a stretch of the smooth skin of Rachel’s thigh. Rachel moans and pulls back abruptly. She’s blushing furiously and her eyes are nearly black. Quinn has never seen anything so alluring.
“I think I should go inside now,” Rachel breathes.
Quinn nods, “Of course.” Her voice sounds rough, foreign to her own ears. She tears her gaze away from Rachel and clears her throat. “I’ll see you soon, I guess.” In her peripheral vision, she sees Rachel nodding slowly.
When Rachel doesn’t respond, Quinn turns to face her again. “This is the part where you get out of the car,” she murmurs kindly. Rachel’s blush deepens impossibly and she awkwardly scrambles out of the car.
She walks to her front door, turning around every few seconds to make sure Quinn’s still watching.
She is.
-----
When she finally returns home, Santana and Brittany are audibly busy in Brittany’s room. She momentarily thinks of interrupting them and spilling everything, but backs down when she realizes Santana would hit her (hard) and that this is almost too big, too special to share just yet.
Quinn heads straight to the guest room in a sort of daze. She flops backward onto the bed and stares up at the ceiling. It takes a few minutes for her to become conscious of the fact that she’s smiling, grinning from ear to ear.
She reaches into her bag for her phone and scrolls to Rachel Berry. She edits it to read just Rachel.
About time, she thinks.
-----
They’re in Rachel’s room, the two of them, hanging out on her bed.
That’s not entirely accurate; they’re making out on Rachel’s bed under the pretense of “hanging out.”
Quinn rolls them over and straddles Rachel’s hips once again as she leans down to mark her tan neck with her lips and teeth. Rachel throws her head back and Quinn smirks against smooth skin before biting down.
If Quinn had ever imagined making out with Rachel Berry, which she most definitely did not (she did) (a lot), she never thought it would be this easy. They fit together in an altogether surprising way, and Quinn is more than willing to take back every insult she ever hurled about Rachel’s mouth and hands, which are currently gliding up and down her back, distracting her completely.
She shifts from Rachel’s neck and kisses her thoroughly, her tongue sliding into Rachel’s warm mouth like it’s a second home.
Rachel pulls her head away after a while and sighs.
“Kissing makes you sad now?” Quinn jokes.
Rachel’s lips twitch upward in a small smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, a fact that worries Quinn more than she likes. Rachel stays silent for a few more moments and she takes a deep breath before she speaks.
“Summer vacation is like a bubble,” she begins slowly. Quinn immediately recognizes Rachel Berry’s Sad Voice and feels a thread of dread wind its way into her stomach. She grabs Rachel’s hand. “When there’s no school, Lima’s practically a different world.” She pauses. “I mean, look at us. If this isn’t evidence of a bubble-like existence, I don’t know what is. This would never happen at school.”
Rachel stares at Quinn, her eyes half-resigned, half-pleading for Quinn to disagree with that statement, but Quinn knows it’s true. She can’t be with Rachel the way she has this summer. Summer is like a different world.
Rachel’s face falls completely at Quinn’s prolonged silence. Her voice is trembling slightly when she speaks.
“I guess this was just an experiment.” She attempts to untangle their hands, but Quinn tightens her grip.
“Give up, Berry, I’m stronger than you.” Rachel glares through glassy eyes. “It was a sort of experiment, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. We don’t have to stop this - whatever this is - just because we won’t be skipping down the halls holding hands and singing show tunes.”
Rachel wipes her eyes with the back of her free hand and smiles shakily.
“It’ll just be our secret for now,” Quinn continues. “Well, and Brittany and Santana’s secret, but you get the idea.”
Rachel laughs and bites her lip for a moment. “A secret. Actually, it sounds quite exciting.” Her face brightens. “I should buy a new day planner and devote it to secret outings. Should we use codenames? I think so. What if I accidentally leave it in the choir room or the auditorium--”
Quinn tugs her forward and kisses her soundly. She’s still Rachel Berry, after all, the girl can talk non-stop, and Quinn would much rather spend the rest of her afternoon making out.
“Less talking, more kissing, Berry.”
Rachel nods solemnly before her face breaks into Quinn’s favorite grin.
---
Title courtesy of Yeah Yeah Yeahs' Hysteric.
Pairing: Rachel/Quinn, Brittany/Santana
Word Count: 3900
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It’s the summer before Quinn begins her junior year, and life is perfect in a way she never thought possible
Spoilers: Through "Sectionals."
Notes: Hi, it's been a while. Sorry! :)
It’s the summer before Quinn begins her junior year, and life is perfect in a way she never thought possible after the seemingly endless drama of sophomore year.
She’s laying in the lush grass of Brittany’s backyard, the sun’s heat is making her bare skin prickle with warmth, and with Santana and Brittany splayed out on either side of her, it feels just like last summer - uncomplicated.
Maybe there’s something special about the season in general, Quinn thinks, adjusting the ties of her swim top.
Or maybe there’s something special about actually having her life back. Not entirely, sure. She’s still living with Brittany, for one, and she’s certain her relationship with her parents has been permanently scarred, but she has her friends back and Quinn’s grown up enough to realize that’s almost all she needs.
Also, they sang a song from The Lion King that was all about friendship one afternoon in glee that may or may not have made her cry.
“I’m getting more lemonade,” Brittany announces, interrupting Quinn’s thoughts. She leaps to her feet and bounds toward the house, but not before leaning down and kissing Santana’s cheek.
“You guys are sickening,” Quinn drawls without malice once Brittany’s out of earshot.
“I know,” Santana sighs. She doesn’t sound completely annoyed by the statement, which is…interesting. The fact that Quinn can even take the time to properly care about other people’s lives still amuses her.
She stretches her arms and arches her back. The feeling of her spine cracking brings a smile to her face. The freedom she feels now, one baby girl lighter, is extraordinary. She’s still not entirely used to it, even though Santana stopped calling her Tubbers a while ago.
She drops her hands to her stomach and lets them rest there, feeling it rise and fall with each breath. It’s another reminder of the way things used to be.
“Q,” Santana snaps. “I know you’re, like, good looking again, but quit feeling yourself up.”
Quinn laughs.
It’s going to be a good summer.
-----
Kurt throws a party for the club. Quinn wonders if the term “party” is even applicable for a group of twelve glee kids, but whatever. They’re all friends now, in a way.
Puck hands over her third wine cooler with a smile half on its way to a smirk, says, “Getting ready for round two?”
Before Quinn can even roll her eyes in response, Mercedes is right there next to him, glaring. “Back off, Mr. T. None of us are ready for another round of Babygate.” Puck gapes at her before he nods solemnly, and Quinn marvels at the absurdity of Noah Puckerman taking orders from Mercedes Jones in Kurt Hummel’s backyard.
A lot can change in a year.
Quinn wanders away, sipping the fruity drink, looking nowhere in particular until she spots Rachel across the yard, sitting with her back against a tree, staring away from the party. She briefly contemplates leaving Rachel alone, but she’s curious and kind of bored so she walks over slowly.
“Can I sit?” Quinn asks. Rachel jumps slightly and her head whips around. She nods and shrugs one shoulder at the same time.
Quinn settles on the cool grass next to Rachel, closer than intended, but she’s a little tipsy already. Rachel smells like suntan lotion and their shoulders brush whenever Quinn breathes deeply. It’s not entirely unpleasant. She’s sat next to Rachel before, of course, but always during glee or during a performance in some institutional building, surrounded by people. This, here, sitting against a tree in the fading sunlight feels different. It makes Quinn uncomfortable for a reason she can’t (won’t) acknowledge.
The silence abruptly changes from comfortable to tense, so Quinn asks the first question that comes to mind.
“Why are you alone?”
“I’m just thinking.”
“About what?” The question leaves her mouth before Quinn can stop herself from asking. She doesn’t even know why she cares about Berry’s thoughts, and judging from the look Rachel’s giving her, she’s wondering the same thing.
“I’m thinking about how nice it is to have friends,” Rachel answers, her gaze turning toward the ground. Quinn nods slowly, even though Rachel probably can’t see it.
“I know the feeling,” Quinn murmurs. Rachel looks up again in interest.
“You’ve always had friends.”
“Not like this.” Quinn lifts her bottle, pointing it at Finn holding court with a laughing Artie and Tina. Rachel smiles briefly as she watches Tina hug Artie’s shoulders from behind.
Quinn suddenly knows there’s something she needs to do that she’s been putting off for months. She drains half of her third cooler in three long sips, and sighs. “I think I should apologize to you.”
Rachel’s gaze snaps to Quinn for one instant before she looks around wildly, as though she’s about to be tricked. Quinn tries not to roll her eyes (really) but she can’t help it. “Pay attention, Berry, this is a one-time offer.” Rachel focuses on Quinn. Her eyes are wary, almost fearful, and now Quinn is doubly sure that this is the right thing to do. “I’m sorry for being awful to you. Things are different now, I guess, but I thought I should apologize properly. So.”
“Thank you,” Rachel says softly, “but why are you saying this tonight?”
“You have to make everything difficult, don’t you?” Quinn mutters. “I’m trying to do The Right Thing, okay?” She hopes Rachel can hear the implied capital letters in that sentence.
Rachel nods and looks away in a poor attempt to hide her smile. “So,” she says after a long beat, her dark eyes once again settling on Quinn. “Are we friends now?”
And maybe it’s the coolers, or possibly the warm, breezy air that’s making her feel lazy and wonderful, but Quinn doesn’t hesitate before she smiles. “I think we are.” Rachel bites her lip, like she’s trying not to grin, and Quinn’s smile widens involuntarily. “Who would’ve thought?”
“Actually,” Rachel begins slowly, “I always had a feeling we would be.”
-----
Rachel calls one morning when she’s at the diner with Brittany and Santana. Her phone display reads Rachel Whatsherface calling and Quinn laughs, causing Brittany to smile and Santana to roll her eyes.
“Too early for laughter, Fabray,” Santana growls into her coffee mug.
“Hey,” Quinn half-laughs into her phone.
“Good morning,” Rachel responds. “I was wondering if you would like to get together today, since we mutually agreed upon our friendship.”
“Did you write this down before you called?” Quinn asks. There’s a slight pause on the other end of the phone, and Quinn can easily imagine Rachel’s blush.
“Yes. There’s nothing wrong with being prepared, and I’ve never exactly called you to hang out before, have I? A script is merely a precaution to avoid any uncomfortable silences.”
“You’re such a freak sometimes, Berry,” Quinn sighs. “Come to the diner near school; we’ll wait to order.”
Santana glares over the rim of her mug.
As it turns out, eating breakfast with Rachel Berry isn’t all that strange. Granted, Brittany is carrying the conversation like a champion and has been ever since Rachel’s dad dropped her off, but Quinn only rolls her eyes once at Rachel. She finds herself smiling more often than not, at things that would have made her gag on her pancakes a year prior.
Eventually, Brittany and Santana decide to get handsy, which is expected, but Quinn still snipes, “We’re in public, you morons,” even though her heart isn’t really in it. Rachel looks mildly uncomfortable, so Quinn throws fifteen dollars down onto the table and says, “We’ll leave them to it. I don’t want to be here when they’re inevitably arrested for indecent exposure.”
Rachel follows her outside and they sit side by side on the curb while Rachel texts one of her dads for a ride.
“How long will they be?”
“Depends,” Quinn smiles. She closes her eyes and tilts her head back, letting the sun warm her face.
After a while, Rachel quietly says, “I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Like what?”
Quinn opens her eyes when Rachel doesn’t respond right away and finds the other girl staring at her like she’s a mystery. It makes Quinn’s stomach flip and forces her to look away again.
“Happy, I guess,” Rachel finally answers. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile so much.”
Rachel’s dad pulls up just then, and Quinn breathes a sigh of relief.
They stand, and Rachel kicks the toe of her sneaker against the pavement, her lip caught between her teeth. She looks nervous. “We should do this again.” It sounds more like a question than a statement.
“Soon,” Quinn nods. Rachel’s face breaks out into a blinding smile, the one Quinn best remembers from afternoons in glee club. It makes her heart ache in an unfamiliar way.
“I’m going to hug you,” Rachel warns, and then she steps forward and embraces Quinn awkwardly before she has a chance to object. She lifts her arms and loosely wraps them around Rachel.
It manages to feel wrong and right at the same time, and Quinn’s stomach is flipping uncomfortably again. It’s definitely the weirdest hug she’s ever been a part of, she decides.
Rachel pulls away first. Her smile is gone and the tips of her ears are faintly red.
Quinn raises her hand in a half-hearted attempt at waving before she spins on her heel and starts walking down the street just to avoid looking at Rachel any more than necessary.
She doesn’t know where she’s going, but Brittany and Santana won’t be done for a while, anyway.
-----
Quinn changes Rachel’s name in her contacts from Rachel Whatsherface to Rachel Berry. Just Rachel feels too familiar, like she’s getting too close to something she doesn’t really understand.
-----
It’s during a particularly hot afternoon that Quinn finds herself sitting on the blessedly cool cement in a patch of shade on Brittany’s patio, listening to a song she doesn’t recognize emanating from the iPod dock on the table.
Her shirt is sticking to her back uncomfortably, and even with her hair piled messily atop her head, beads of sweat are persistently forming at the base of her skull.
“Screw this,” Santana mutters. “Either we go for ice cream or we’re breaking into someone’s yard to use their pool.”
Jumping into an ice cold pool is extremely tempting, but Quinn doesn’t feel up to committing any crimes today, so ice cream it is.
“You should invite Rachel,” Brittany says lightly as they pile into her car.
“Is she one of us now?” Santana sneers from the passenger seat.
Brittany ignores her tone as she starts the ignition. “Glee club is supposed to stick together, S.”
They both turn to stare at Quinn, awaiting her decision. She wants to see Rachel again; she’s been thinking about finding the courage or insanity to just call her and ask her to come over to Brit’s to hang out or whatever it is that new friends do.
Just the thought of Rachel’s ridiculously wide grin makes Quinn’s lips twitch up in a miniature smile, and she hides this disturbing reaction by sighing loudly and sounding as bored as possible. “Sure, whatever, I doubt she has any other offers.”
-----
Quinn is sprawled out on the grass of Brittany’s backyard again, but this time she’s alone and under the stars instead of the hot sun.
She likes boys. She likes kissing them; she likes their height and their strong arms and sometimes even their immaturity.
But she’s starting to think that she likes Rachel, too. She likes Rachel’s singing and her dark eyes and her crazy smile and - just, everything.
Maybe Rachel’s the exception.
-----
Maybe she could be Rachel’s exception.
The thought makes her grin into her pillow.
-----
They hang out again, the four of them, this time at the park.
Santana immediately commandeers the two good swings for herself and Brittany, leaving Rachel and Quinn to balance on the dodgy ones on the other set that creak loudly with every movement.
They aren’t swinging anymore, just swaying slowly and watching the sun edge its way out of the sky across the field.
“I kind of thought tonight would be just the two of us,” Rachel whispers out of nowhere.
Quinn digs her feet into the sand and stops moving entirely. “Is that what you want?” she questions slowly, carefully.
“Yes.”
Quinn’s heart leaps into her throat and her stomach churns like she just flipped upside down on the swing. “We’ll go to a movie, then.” Her voice is kind of breathless. She’s mortified, but Rachel is smiling so widely her face is in danger of breaking.
-----
“You asked Berry out on a date, you idiot,” Santana states.
“I didn’t mean to,” Quinn snaps. “I don’t know if she knows that, though.”
“Be nice, you two,” Brittany chirps from the sofa.
Santana rolls her eyes, but her tone is decidedly nicer when she asks, “Can’t you just call her? Jesus, Q, you’ve done scarier things in your life.”
Brittany nods wisely.
“Whatever,” Quinn huffs. “I’ll just see how she acts.”
Brittany and Santana share one of their Quinn’s being stupid glances, but this entire situation is ridiculous and frightening and Quinn doesn’t think winging it is the worst plan ever.
-----
“Winging it is the worst plan ever,” Quinn moans. Her voice is muffled by her bed, but Brittany seems to get the gist of it because she starts to rub soothing circles on Quinn’s back.
It’s the night - the night - and Quinn has no idea what to wear or how to act when one goes to the movies with another girl on what is maybe a date and maybe not and now she’s just brought back her headache from earlier.
“You’ll be fine,” Brittany murmurs.
Santana covers her bark of laughter with a cough. “You know,” she says airily, “this has pretty much become the gayest summer in the history of Lima.”
Quinn moans into the bed again.
-----
Quinn twirls Brittany’s car keys around her finger and compulsively tugs down the hem of her tank top while she waits on Rachel’s doorstep.
She thinks about ringing the doorbell again, it seems like it’s been forever, but maybe time is just moving strangely because her nerves are frying her brain.
The door swings open without warning and Quinn is suddenly face-to-face with Rachel.
“Hello,” Rachel says brightly, like they’re just in the halls of McKinley and meeting up to walk to glee. This is most definitely not a date, thank God, but why does she feel something oddly similar to disappointment in the pit of her stomach? Quinn wishes she had something like pregnancy hormones to blame for this absurd sensation.
Rachel grabs her hand and pulls her toward Brittany’s car. Quinn’s heart abruptly decides to relocate to her esophagus.
Maybe this is a date.
It is all way too confusing.
She feels emotional whiplash and realizes she still hasn’t said anything, like, way to act like a freakshow. “Hi.”
Rachel seems to process her tone and stares down at their joined hands. Her face pales and she drops Quinn’s hand like it’s scalding hot. “Oh. I-I just assumed this was….”
This is her way out, Quinn thinks. She could play it off, stay friends forever, ignore everything between them and continue on in her ultra-repressed existence. Or she could just take Rachel’s stupid hand.
She takes Rachel’s stupid hand.
Rachel’s smile is luminous in the fading light, and Quinn thinks it almost makes up for the fact that Santana will never let her live this down.
-----
“That was an awful movie,” Rachel states as they exit the theater.
“Was it?” Quinn spent half of the movie staring blankly at the screen and the other half sneaking glances at Rachel, trying and failing to understand why she’s on a date with Rachel Berry.
As they near the car, Rachel reaches over and grabs Quinn’s hand like it’s nothing, like one year ago Quinn didn’t live to make her life miserable.
“I don’t understand this,” Quinn snaps, unintentionally harsh. She briefly tightens her grip on Rachel’s hand as an apology, and her next words come out softer. “I don’t understand you.”
“I think that’s okay for now,” Rachel shrugs. They stop walking when they reach Brittany’s car. “I don’t fully understand you, either.”
-----
The drive back to Rachel’s house is filled with a potent mix of tension and uncertainty.
Quinn throws the car into park and shuts off the ignition. The following silence feels deafening.
After an agonizingly quiet minute, Rachel clears her throat and says, “I believe this is where I say I had a great time.”
“Did you, though?”
Rachel appears to give the question serious consideration before answering, “Yes, actually.” Quinn breathes out in relief and feels her death grip on the steering wheel loosen slightly before Rachel continues, “You could kiss me goodnight, if you’d like. I mean, that is the proper thing to do.”
Quinn’s head whips around to face Rachel so fast she feels dizzy, or perhaps she’s going into shock because Rachel Berry wants to kiss her, and if that’s the case she really should articulate her need for an ambulance, but her throat feels startlingly dry and Quinn doesn’t think she can exactly speak at the moment.
She’s just sitting there, staring at Rachel, her brain a scrambled mess when one thought abruptly makes itself clear in a voice eerily similar to Coach Sylvester’s: Do something, you moron.
She releases the steering wheel and shifts in her seat until she’s facing Rachel as best as possible in the cramped quarters. Rachel’s eyes widen, and Quinn wonders if Rachel believed that Quinn would say no, because her brown eyes look both scared and excited.
Quinn tilts forward slowly, resting one hand on the passenger seat dangerously close to Rachel’s leg, stopping only when their faces are inches apart and she’s straining to maintain her focus on Rachel’s face. Last chance to back out, she wants to say, but the words won’t form, so she tries to convey it with her eyes instead.
Rachel just licks her lips, which Quinn interprets as go for it.
Quinn leans in and brushes her lips against Rachel’s in a feather-light, testing kiss.
The reaction is immediate.
Rachel gasps slightly and presses forward eagerly, her mouth meeting Quinn’s without any hesitation. Quinn kisses back on instinct, captures Rachel’s lower lip with her teeth briefly and marvels at the small whimper the other girl releases and how it sends a jolt through her entire body.
Quinn slides her hand from its spot on the seat to the edge of Rachel’s skirt and toys lightly with the hem before running her fingertips across a stretch of the smooth skin of Rachel’s thigh. Rachel moans and pulls back abruptly. She’s blushing furiously and her eyes are nearly black. Quinn has never seen anything so alluring.
“I think I should go inside now,” Rachel breathes.
Quinn nods, “Of course.” Her voice sounds rough, foreign to her own ears. She tears her gaze away from Rachel and clears her throat. “I’ll see you soon, I guess.” In her peripheral vision, she sees Rachel nodding slowly.
When Rachel doesn’t respond, Quinn turns to face her again. “This is the part where you get out of the car,” she murmurs kindly. Rachel’s blush deepens impossibly and she awkwardly scrambles out of the car.
She walks to her front door, turning around every few seconds to make sure Quinn’s still watching.
She is.
-----
When she finally returns home, Santana and Brittany are audibly busy in Brittany’s room. She momentarily thinks of interrupting them and spilling everything, but backs down when she realizes Santana would hit her (hard) and that this is almost too big, too special to share just yet.
Quinn heads straight to the guest room in a sort of daze. She flops backward onto the bed and stares up at the ceiling. It takes a few minutes for her to become conscious of the fact that she’s smiling, grinning from ear to ear.
She reaches into her bag for her phone and scrolls to Rachel Berry. She edits it to read just Rachel.
About time, she thinks.
-----
They’re in Rachel’s room, the two of them, hanging out on her bed.
That’s not entirely accurate; they’re making out on Rachel’s bed under the pretense of “hanging out.”
Quinn rolls them over and straddles Rachel’s hips once again as she leans down to mark her tan neck with her lips and teeth. Rachel throws her head back and Quinn smirks against smooth skin before biting down.
If Quinn had ever imagined making out with Rachel Berry, which she most definitely did not (she did) (a lot), she never thought it would be this easy. They fit together in an altogether surprising way, and Quinn is more than willing to take back every insult she ever hurled about Rachel’s mouth and hands, which are currently gliding up and down her back, distracting her completely.
She shifts from Rachel’s neck and kisses her thoroughly, her tongue sliding into Rachel’s warm mouth like it’s a second home.
Rachel pulls her head away after a while and sighs.
“Kissing makes you sad now?” Quinn jokes.
Rachel’s lips twitch upward in a small smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, a fact that worries Quinn more than she likes. Rachel stays silent for a few more moments and she takes a deep breath before she speaks.
“Summer vacation is like a bubble,” she begins slowly. Quinn immediately recognizes Rachel Berry’s Sad Voice and feels a thread of dread wind its way into her stomach. She grabs Rachel’s hand. “When there’s no school, Lima’s practically a different world.” She pauses. “I mean, look at us. If this isn’t evidence of a bubble-like existence, I don’t know what is. This would never happen at school.”
Rachel stares at Quinn, her eyes half-resigned, half-pleading for Quinn to disagree with that statement, but Quinn knows it’s true. She can’t be with Rachel the way she has this summer. Summer is like a different world.
Rachel’s face falls completely at Quinn’s prolonged silence. Her voice is trembling slightly when she speaks.
“I guess this was just an experiment.” She attempts to untangle their hands, but Quinn tightens her grip.
“Give up, Berry, I’m stronger than you.” Rachel glares through glassy eyes. “It was a sort of experiment, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. We don’t have to stop this - whatever this is - just because we won’t be skipping down the halls holding hands and singing show tunes.”
Rachel wipes her eyes with the back of her free hand and smiles shakily.
“It’ll just be our secret for now,” Quinn continues. “Well, and Brittany and Santana’s secret, but you get the idea.”
Rachel laughs and bites her lip for a moment. “A secret. Actually, it sounds quite exciting.” Her face brightens. “I should buy a new day planner and devote it to secret outings. Should we use codenames? I think so. What if I accidentally leave it in the choir room or the auditorium--”
Quinn tugs her forward and kisses her soundly. She’s still Rachel Berry, after all, the girl can talk non-stop, and Quinn would much rather spend the rest of her afternoon making out.
“Less talking, more kissing, Berry.”
Rachel nods solemnly before her face breaks into Quinn’s favorite grin.
---
Title courtesy of Yeah Yeah Yeahs' Hysteric.