This Kiss, Chapter Eighteen
Title: This Kiss
Author: poetzproblem
Fandom Glee
Characters: Rachel Berry / Quinn Fabray
Word Count: ~4900
Rating: R
Summary: One pivotal moment can change everything.
Spoilers/Warnings: hrough A Very Glee Christmas. Then AU. Cursing, sexual references, Femslash.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or the characters, just like to play with them.
A/N: Written for a Faberry prompt, but can't remember where. 'Rachel and Quinn share a kiss during a game of spin the bottle. From that night forward both girls desperately try to deny what they felt; what they feel. ..The other Glee kids know what’s up and attempt to play matchmaker.'
A/N2: Hate being sick. I call this one - Quinn's Epiphany. Thank you all for reading and commenting.
(Chapter One) (Chapter Two) (Chapter Three) (Chapter Four) (Chapter Five) (Chapter Six) (Chapter Seven) (Chapter Eight) (Chapter Nine) (Chapter Ten) (Chapter Eleven) (Chapter Twelve) (Chapter Thirteen) (Chapter Fourteen) (Chapter Sixteen) (Chapter Sixteen) (Chapter Seventeen)
Dancing
Quinn was curled up into Rachel's side, her tears having mostly subsided, but every so often a sad little hiccup would shake her shoulders and she'd sniffle and rub at her eyes. Rachel wished she could do something more for her, but she knew there were no words that could ease Quinn's pain. Shelby's rejection of Rachel had been the subject of numerous therapy sessions, and while talking (ranting) had helped her release some of her anger, nothing her therapist ever said in reply was remotely useful in dealing with the lingering pain and depression. It was always going to be a part of her, much as Quinn would always carry her own grief over giving up her daughter. Rachel suspected that the girl's breakdown today was long overdue, because apparently she'd never really talked to anyone about Beth. Noah had indicated as much last week when he'd finally broached the subject of the adoption.
Rachel's fingers were playing over blonde hair, much of which had escaped the tight confines of the ponytail, and her right side was on fire where the Quinn's body molded to it. She squeezed her eyes closed, willing her heart to stop racing and her hormones to stop reacting. Inappropriate feelings were inappropriate. Quinn needed a friend right now, not…whatever Rachel was fantasizing about. She'd just broken up with her boyfriend three days ago, and the girl in her arms still very much had one. Even if Sam wasn't a very real obstacle, now was not the time to be thinking about how gorgeous Quinn Fabray looked regardless of having spent the last twenty minutes crying.
"I wish I had thought to bring my bag. I have tissues I could have offered you," Rachel remarked. "Oh, wait, how stupid," she muttered, attempting to gently untangle herself from Quinn. The girl protested at first, clinging a little tighter, then abruptly let go, unhappily slumping back against the wall. Rachel uncurled herself from the hard floor, her legs protesting as she did so. She stood and walked to the sink to retrieve the roll of paper towels, holding it up victoriously as she made her way back to Quinn, who looked up with a thin, sad smile before she wiped at her reddened eyes again.
"I must look like crap," she mumbled, reaching up for the offered towels and tearing a piece free to daintily dab at her eyes and nose.
Rachel sank back down beside her, offering a genuine smile. "I don't think its possible for you to ever really look bad, Quinn. You even manage to cry attractively."
"You're such a liar," Quinn whispered, losing the battle against the little grin that was tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"I prefer economical with the truth," Rachel clarified.
Quinn chuckled softly, her dewy gaze raking over Rachel. Then her fleeting smile slowly slipped into a pensive frown. "Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked. "I've been nothing but horrible to you for years."
"Everyone deserves a second chance," she reminded Quinn gently. Rachel truly did believe that. Perhaps some would think her woefully naïve, but she understood that people rarely presented their true selves to the world around them. Everyone was acting. Pretending to be better, or cooler, or richer, or smarter than they really were, and sometimes they got a little lost in the part they were playing and did things they would come to regret later. Rachel wanted to get to know the real Quinn Fabray-the sweet, vulnerable girl that peeked out from beneath the head bitch persona every so often.
Quinn exhaled on a single, soundless laugh, closing her eyes and looking away from Rachel's intense gaze. "I think I blew all my second chances sometime last year."
"I haven't always been very nice to you either." Rachel stared down at her own hands in her lap to avoid looking at Quinn as she continued to speak. "As you pointed out, I did attempt to seduce Finn away from you while you were together regardless of the fact that I believed you to be pregnant with his child at the time." Something that she was not proud to admit, but those were her fickle morals again. She'd wanted something, so she'd found a way to justify having it.
"I was a bitch to you long before that. It's not like you had a reason to care about my feelings," Quinn said sadly.
"But, at the very least, I should have respected your relationship with him," Rachel insisted, finally lifting her face to meet Quinn's eyes-eyes that she caught mid roll.
"I was lying to him," she reminded her.
"But I didn't know that at the time. I should have been more considerate."
"I've done some really awful things, Rachel," Quinn pointed out unabashedly. "I basically joined glee club so I could sabotage it from the inside."
Rachel shrugged, unimpressed by the completely unsurprising revelation. "I got Mr. Ryerson fired."
Quinn narrowed her gaze and frowned. "I told Coach about Santana's boob job so I could take her spot."
"I sent that Sunshine girl to a crack house."
"Yeah," Quinn nodded slowly, her expression serious and grave. "That was bad." Then she smirked and her eyes twinkled with mirth. "I was kind of impressed though."
Rachel sighed, "It's probably a very good thing that we were never, in fact, friends before now, Quinn, else we may have wreaked serious havoc upon the school."
They both began to giggle, and Quinn's head rolled to the left, bringing her face just inches from Rachel's once again. Their laughter slowly ebbed away as they watched one another, awareness spilling into the air around them and seeping into their lungs with every breath. If Rachel were to lean forward ever so slightly, she'd be able to taste those perfect, pink lips again. Lips that parted enticingly before cruelly destroying the moment.
"I need to wash my face," Quinn blurted out, jerking back and scrambling off the floor to rush across the room. Rachel heard the water start to run, and she dragged her own hands over her face, shaking her head. She couldn't take this anymore. Her heretofore easily assuaged libido was screaming at her to be acknowledged. Pressing her hands against the cold tile floor, she pushed herself up into a standing position and studied Quinn. She was currently bent over the sink, left forearm propped on the counter and right hand wiping at the back of her neck with a wet paper towel.
"We need to talk about this," Rachel announced flatly, making her way closer to the cheerleader.
Quinn shut the tap off and dropped the towel. "What? Me washing my face," she evaded, apparently finding something in the sink utterly fascinating since she refused to look away from it.
Rachel curled her fingers around the edge of the counter, watching the pink beneath her nails fade to white from the pressure. "This…thing that we've been attempting to ignore since Noah's party."
"No, we're not talking about that," Quinn insisted, spinning away from the sink and pacing halfway across the room to distance herself from Rachel.
"I realize that it may be slightly uncomfortable, but…"
"No!" Quinn barked, then pressed her left hand over her eyes as she shook her head and weakly muttered, "Not now, Rachel. I can't do this now." Quinn dropped her hand and looked up at Rachel with pleading eyes.
She looked terrified, and completely drained, and Rachel felt her heart ache for the girl. She sighed in resignation. "When?"
"I don't know." Quinn sucked her lower lip between her teeth and turned away, gazing blindly out the window.
Rachel leaned against the counter and studied her. Quinn had been sending out so many mixed signals in the last two weeks that she couldn't determine if she was coming or going. First she'd taken to tormenting her again, then she'd seemed apologetic and somewhat cordial, then downright friendly before turning back into the ice queen and ignoring her entirely for a week. Dealing with Quinn was like standing in the center of a hurricane and Rachel couldn't keep her footing at all.
Her own emotions were hardly any more reliable. Two weeks ago she'd been perfectly content and in love with her boyfriend-well, in…something like love. She was self aware enough to realize that she tended to over dramatize her every emotion to the point that everything felt bigger than it really was. She was so easily swept away, and usually ended up crashing and burning sooner or later. Yes, she'd loved Finn, but with hindsight, she could no longer claim that it had been the forever kind of love. Even if their relationship hadn't kept hitting sour notes, they probably wouldn't have made it past high school. Falling in love was wonderful while you were falling, but when you hit bottom, you either ended up hurt or completely numb.
Her feelings for Quinn were different. Unexpected.
She hadn't fallen.
She'd stumbled.
It was like they'd been dancing-actually, boxing would describe it better, but Rachel much preferred artistic metaphors to athletic ones-gliding around one another in a careful choreography with varying rhythms until Rachel had lost her balance just enough to stumble into Quinn. The action had thrown them both out of sync and now they were trying to learn new steps.
There was simply no use in denying it anymore-Rachel was attracted to Quinn. Attracted. Intrigued. Charmed. Captivated. Enamored. Enthralled. She really could go on for quite awhile as she had a very extensive vocabulary. Not that it mattered. The only words that could really make a difference right now were the ones that Quinn would never say.
She really was unfairly beautiful, from the graceful line of her throat to her high cheekbones and adorable nose-the tiny curve at the bridge adding character and keeping her from being too perfect-and those amazing eyes that shimmered with every shade of gold and green. It was easy to see why Finn, Noah, and Sam had all been so eager to try and impress her, but Quinn always seemed so far above them-as though she was only biding her time until something better came along. If Quinn was suppressing a secret attraction to women-a possibility that was growing stronger with every wistful look and unconsciously flirtatious smile-Rachel knew that she still wouldn't have a real chance with her. Not with Quinn's value system and certainly not while their social spheres were so far removed from one another, crossing only through glee club and a few mutual ex-boyfriends.
Did she even want a chance were it to actually appear?
The entire situation was horribly complicated. She couldn't even say for certain that she was gay. Until she'd kissed Quinn, she'd fully identified as straight, but now she was questioning everything. When Rachel had first discovered herself crushing on boys, she'd been…relieved. She adored her fathers, she truly did, and they'd raised her to be open to love in whatever form it existed, but that didn't exactly mean she was eager to embrace a life marred by prejudice and adversity. She already had to face that just being the daughter of a homosexual couple.
Had she ignored an attraction to women all this time in favor of making her life easier? Happy to classify her admiration of other girls' appearances as merely envious instead of potentially amorous? She simply didn't know. It was entirely possible that she might only be attracted to Quinn.
Evidently, her sexuality was still a work in progress.
•••
At 2:01 p.m., the McKinley High Glee Club gathered in the choir room for their usual afternoon rehearsal. Kurt was glancing back behind him and surveying the room when Mr. Schuester arrived. Mercedes elbowed him in the side and he looked over at her with a frown. "What?"
"What did you do?" she asked him suspiciously.
"What are you talking about?"
Mercedes opened her mouth, but Mr. Schuester's voice sounded out instead. "Where are Quinn and Rachel?"
Kurt had been wondering that as well. Quinn had skipped glee before on occasion, but Rachel never did-well, maybe once or twice, but never without a valid excuse (like laryngitis or being egged by an ex-boyfriend)-and after the last week, having both of them conspicuously missing at the same time made him nervous.
Most of the club shrugged and murmured "don't know," but Puck leaned back in his chair and joked, "maybe they're having a catfight in the girl's bathroom. I can go check it out if you want."
"You wish, Puckerman," Santana grumbled.
"Shouldn't you know where Rachel is, since you're so close now?" Finn questioned with a pathetic whine.
"Get over yourself, Finn," Mercedes told him.
"Yeah, man. Don't make me punch you," Puck threatened. "You blew it with Berry all by yourself."
"Alright, enough guys. Let's just get started. Mercedes, you're up first."
Kurt tried to keep his attention on his best friend's performance, because really, she totally rocked it-Chrissie Hynde would be proud-but his eyes kept darting back to the door waiting for either a blonde or brunette or both to suddenly appear. He glanced around the room, studying his team mates. He caught Santana's eye and raised a questioning brow, and she shrugged in reply. Tina shook her head to indicate that she was clueless. Brittany…well, she was always clueless, so he didn't even bother.
According to Santana, Quinn had been flipping her shit ll day because Rachel had decided to keep a low profile. Kurt knew the girl had been doing that mostly to avoid seeing Finn-or more accurately, seeing Finn scowl at her with his typical mix of angry accusation and hurt every time she came within ten feet of him. She may have been mostly okay with the breakup in theory, but Kurt knew that she was more bothered than she let on about the way things had ended. Still, Rachel would have never skipped glee just to avoid her ex. So that begged the question-had Quinn been worried enough about their girl to actually forget that she wasn't supposed to care and actually do something?
Kurt imagined that he'd have to track Rachel down for answers after school when almost the entire hour in glee had passed without any trace of the missing girls. Mr. Schue was back to tossing around new ideas for Regionals when the door slammed open and a pissed-off Quinn Fabray came marching into the room, Rachel hot on her heels.
"Okay which one of you morons locked us in the damn Home Ec room?" she growled.
"What?" Kurt squeaked in surprise, his head automatically turning in Santana's direction-where incidentally, the bulk of Quinn's attention was focused-but the girl looked just as shocked as he was.
"Is that where you two were?" Mercedes asked.
"Don't play innocent," Quinn snapped.
"Please, she's not that good an actress."
"Stuff it, Santana," Rachel shot back.
"Quinn, maybe you should just calm down," Mr. Schue started, but Quinn cut him off with a withering look.
"No offense, Mr. Schue, but this is none of your business and class is almost over anyway." It was true, there were less than five minutes left before the bell would ring.
Mr. Schuester held up his hands and nodded. "Okay, fine. Have it out. Just everybody be here Wednesday and be ready to work. Rachel," he said, "as captain, I'm trusting you to make sure things don't get out of hand."
"Of course, Mr. Schuester," she promised angelically, thousand-watt smile included.
"You're trusting her," Finn spat.
"Grow up, Hudson," Quinn demanded, clearly seething, and the boy slouched down in his seat looking dejected. Mr. Schuester shook his head in frustration and left his kids alone. How very unprofessional, Kurt thought. What else is new?
"Somebody better start talking. Now!"
"Quinn, perhaps a less confrontational approach might yield more favorable results," Rachel prompted, placing a hand on her arm. Quinn instantly relaxed into her touch. Well, that was new.
"We were locked in there for almost an hour, Rach! If I want to be confrontational, I damn well will be," Quinn insisted.
"Hold up," Santana said, dropping both feet to the floor and leaning forward on her elbows. "Did you just call her Rach?"
"People call her Rach," Quinn shot back, tensing up again.
"But you never have," Tina said.
"Well, I am now. And stop stalling." Quinn adopted her HBIC pose and swept her furious gaze across the risers. "Who. Locked. The. Door?"
"Maybe it was my cat. She's really sneaky."
Rachel shook her head at Brittany and turned to Quinn. "This is obviously a waste of time, Quinn. We aren't going to get an answer and frankly, discovering the culprit would hardly make any difference now. We should simply put the incident behind us."
"Yeah, you should listen to the midget, Q," Santana told her.
"Don't call her that," Quinn said, face going as red as her uniform.
That was definitely new. Kurt had to sit on his hands to keep from clapping in excitement and squealing like a little girl.
"It's alright," Rachel said lowly, again running a hand over Quinn's arm and calming her.
"Whatever," she finally breathed, "but I swear, if I ever find out who did this…"
"Yeah, yeah. You let your bitch flag fly and Berry will torture the culprit with a boring ten minute lecture," Santana snarked. "We're all trembling in our sneakers."
Quinn took a step forward, stopped only by Rachel's grip around her wrist. "You…"
"Quinn. Let it go."
"Fine," she gently shook off Rachel's touch. "I'm out of here. I've already lost an hour of my life that I'll never get back." She turned to leave, hesitating just a moment as her eyes caught Rachel's and a little flicker of a grin turned up the corner of her mouth, but she covered it with her familiar blank expression so quickly that Kurt thought he might have imagined the whole thing.
After Quinn left, Rachel turned back to face them with her hands on her hips. "I am very disappointed in all of you," she told them with a shake of her head. "If Mrs. O'Toole had not lost her bottle of Valium and needed the spare she keeps locked up with the butchers knives, Quinn and I may have been trapped together until the morning, and none of you were even concerned at our absence. I certainly hope the responsible party is appropriately ashamed of his or her self." That said, she spun on her heal and marched out of the room.
Finn gathered up his things and left right after Rachel's speech, followed by Sam and Mike. Artie gave Brittany a kiss and wheeled himself out the door. Kurt watched them all go while he was still trying to process this new development. He turned to Mercedes. "So, who did lock them up together?"
"Don't look at me. Those two still scare me a little."
"Yeah." Tina agreed. "I mean getting them to sit together or hang out a little is one thing, but locking them up in a room with knives and ovens…not really the brightest idea."
"Please, like you losers were making any progress with your pansy ass shopping trips and musical chairs. Those two chicks needed a real push."
"Puck?" Santana said in shock.
Kurt whipped around to looked at the jock still lounging up in the back row with a shit-eating grin on his face. "We really need to check the room before we start talking about the plan," he said to no one in particular.
"How did you even know?" Mercedes asked.
He shot her an offended look. "Please, give Puckzilla a little credit. I totally knew those two had the hots for each other. I mean come on, that kiss left burn marks on my mom's carpet," he reminded them. Then he shrugged, "Besides, my baby mama deserves better than Lady Lips, and Berry really needed to dump Hudson's unappreciative ass."
Mercedes shook her head in disbelief. "I thought you two were bros."
"We are, but man, he sucks as a boyfriend. I was tired of seeing Rachel all sad and shit."
"Wait," Santana turned fully in her chair, giving him a once over and then smirking. "You were totally trying to break them up on purpose."
"Well, duh! That was the plan even before the hot lesbian action started going down."
"I don't think they've gone down yet," Brittany announced.
"Oh God, the visual," Kurt muttered in disgust.
"Oh, yeah, the visual," Puck echoed in appreciation, nodding his head.
"You are such a pervert," Mercedes told him.
"You love me, babe."
"You wish."
"So what happens now?" Tina asked. "I mean, they seemed…kind of…"
"Like a couple," Kurt supplied dreamily.
"I wouldn't start planning the wedding yet, Hummel," Santana warned.
"Do you think I could be a bridesmaid?" Brittany wondered.
"Yeah, man," Puck cut in. "Berry may be a hot single Jew now, but Quinn's still got to lose Macauley Culkin."
"Ooh, good one," Santana nodded in approval.
"Do you two just sit around thinking up degrading nicknames all day?" Mercedes wanted to know.
"Comes naturally," Santana said.
"It's a gift," Puck bragged.
"So, how do you suggest we proceed?" Kurt asked them all. He still had the sleepover idea percolating in the back of his mind, but he was open to suggestions.
"Don't worry about the Ken Doll. It'll be easy enough to break up that boring relationship," Santana offered with a wicked smile, ignoring the angry little frown that Brittany aimed in her direction.
"Maybe we should just…let them be," Tina suggested mildly.
"Excuse me?" Kurt gasped.
Tina shrugged. "Well, they just spent an hour alone together and it seems like they're finally getting along. Can't we just wait and see what happens? I mean, maybe they just need some time to get closer on their own."
"Girl's got a point," Mercedes agreed.
Kurt slumped a little in his char. "I suppose," he pouted, and Mercedes giggled and wrapped an arm around him.
"It's okay, sweetie. Baby steps, remember."
•••
When Quinn arrived home from cheerio's practice, she was both physically and emotionally exhausted. She avoided her mother's concerned glance, claiming a headache, and went straight up to her room. She chanced a look in her mirror and cringed when she saw how red and puffy her eyes still were. She'd probably cried more in the last two weeks than she had through all of her pregnancy, and she'd been an emotional wreck then.
She hated feeling this way, like everything was spinning out of control. She just wanted to claw at her own skin and scream at the top of her lungs for it to stop. It was pathetic, and weak, and…painful.
God, so painful.
Quinn choked back another sob, pressing her hand to her mouth and breathing deeply. She wasn't going to fall apart again. She could hardly believe that she'd already let it happen so easily with Rachel earlier. Of all people…it would be her that Quinn would finally break in front of. It was oddly appropriate that Rachel Berry be the first person that she'd ever really talked to about her daughter. Before today, she'd never spoken about the baby…ever…to anyone. Sure, she and Puck had talked about it right after they'd given her up, and she'd talked to her mom a little when she'd first moved back in, but both conversations had been awkward and stilted. Since then, it was subject that she wouldn't bring up, but one that was constantly on her mind.
The only thing that kept her from going crazy was her belief that she'd given up her little girl to a better life. That Shelby Corcoran would be a better mother. Rachel's confession had just taken that away from her, and Quinn couldn't even be angry because it was all her own damn fault. She'd just been so lost last year-terrified and overwhelmed and completely clueless. She'd done everything wrong, from having sex with Puck to lying to Finn to turning down Rachel's honest offer of friendship. Mercedes had been a godsend in those last two months, but Quinn had never expected the Jones family to take responsibility for both her and her baby, so she'd ended up keeping an emotional distance during her stay with them.
She'd gone so long flipping back and forth daily between wanting to keep her baby and not wanting to have to deal with the pregnancy at all, that she hadn't been prepared in the least when she'd finally given birth. It hadn't helped that she'd gone into labor more than two weeks early. If her mother had come to her senses sooner and taken her home, or if someone as goal oriented as Rachel Berry had been supporting her from the beginning, pushing her to make a plan instead of just scheme to get her bills paid and keep her secrets, Quinn would never have found herself staring down at that perfect little person and feeling sick at the thought of just surrendering her to the hospital and never knowing what happened to her.
Shelby Corcoran had been in the perfect place at the perfect time with that sincere smile that was so much like Rachel's and saying all the right things. In retrospect, Quinn could admit that the idea of Rachel's mother raising her daughter had been a little bit comforting. She didn't even really know the woman, and she certainly hadn't known that she'd rejected her own daughter, but at the time, Quinn had looked at Shelby and instantly seen an older, less irritating version of Rachel with all the same passion, intelligence, and confidence. So she'd felt like she could trust Shelby. Maybe that should have been a big clue to her that her feelings for the girl were complicated.
Rachel had tried to tell her that Beth was loved and cared for, that Shelby really wasn't a bad person, and Quinn wanted to believe that for her daughter's sake, but she couldn't stop seeing the pain and jealousy in Rachel's brown eyes and feeling her heart break just a little more. If she just could have gotten over her damned fear and stubborn pride and admitted her feelings, she could have accepted Rachel's offer of friendship last year and not been all alone after Finn found out the truth. And Quinn could have been there for Rachel when she'd really needed a friend, and she would have known all these things about Shelby sooner, and maybe they could have picked out a nice adoptive family for Beth together. No one would have gotten hurt and Rachel would have never dated Finn because Quinn would have already given her all the love and support that he never could…
Her mental rambling came to an abrupt halt and she caught her breath, pressing a shaking hand over her skittering heart.
Love?
Did she…?
Oh, dear lord, she did.
She loved Rachel Berry.
Quinn stumbled backward until the backs of her knees hit her mattress and she sank down on the edge, dropping her head into her hands. This couldn't be happening. She'd almost come to terms with the weird attraction and the sudden surge of protectiveness, and yes, she'd really, really liked being in Rachel's arms today-she'd never felt so safe and cared for-but she wasn't ready to be in love.
In love?
"Oh, no," she whispered into her palms. She could ignore the attraction, and she could deal with liking Rachel, but if she was falling in love with the other girl, then she was in real trouble. Being in love made her vulnerable (like Rachel had seen more than once) and jealous (like she felt every time she'd had to watch Rachel with Finn or Puck) and possessive (like how she wanted to slap Santana every time she went near Rachel or made some sexual innuendo) and…nervous (when Rachel was near) and warm (when Rachel touched her) and happy (every time Rachel smiled at her) and aroused (all the time.)
Fuck!
She was in love with Rachel. When the hell did that happen?
Quinn lifted her face and stared at her laptop across the room. On autopilot, she moved to her desk and brought up her shortcut to MySpace-and shouldn't that link saved in her favorites have been a dead giveaway?-and clicked onto one of Rachel's older videos, hitting play and willfully ignoring the nasty comments underneath. Rachel's perfect, amazing voice filled the room as she poured her heart into Taking Chances, and a slow, watery smile blossomed on Quinn's lips as she imagined that the girl was singing that song just for her. She swiped at the fresh tears trickling over her cheeks in an attempt to keep the image of Rachel from becoming any blurrier.
Could she do it? Could she take that kind of chance?
"What do you say, Fabray?" she asked herself at the end of the song, still staring at Rachel's beautiful face on her screen.
As if in answer, the cell phone laying next to her hand started to vibrate and she glanced down, stomach dropping out at the possibility that it might be Rachel. When she picked it up and looked at the screen, the sensation turned foul.
Sam.
"Shit."
Chapter Nineteen
Author: poetzproblem
Fandom Glee
Characters: Rachel Berry / Quinn Fabray
Word Count: ~4900
Rating: R
Summary: One pivotal moment can change everything.
Spoilers/Warnings: hrough A Very Glee Christmas. Then AU. Cursing, sexual references, Femslash.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or the characters, just like to play with them.
A/N: Written for a Faberry prompt, but can't remember where. 'Rachel and Quinn share a kiss during a game of spin the bottle. From that night forward both girls desperately try to deny what they felt; what they feel. ..The other Glee kids know what’s up and attempt to play matchmaker.'
A/N2: Hate being sick. I call this one - Quinn's Epiphany. Thank you all for reading and commenting.
(Chapter One) (Chapter Two) (Chapter Three) (Chapter Four) (Chapter Five) (Chapter Six) (Chapter Seven) (Chapter Eight) (Chapter Nine) (Chapter Ten) (Chapter Eleven) (Chapter Twelve) (Chapter Thirteen) (Chapter Fourteen) (Chapter Sixteen) (Chapter Sixteen) (Chapter Seventeen)
Dancing
Quinn was curled up into Rachel's side, her tears having mostly subsided, but every so often a sad little hiccup would shake her shoulders and she'd sniffle and rub at her eyes. Rachel wished she could do something more for her, but she knew there were no words that could ease Quinn's pain. Shelby's rejection of Rachel had been the subject of numerous therapy sessions, and while talking (ranting) had helped her release some of her anger, nothing her therapist ever said in reply was remotely useful in dealing with the lingering pain and depression. It was always going to be a part of her, much as Quinn would always carry her own grief over giving up her daughter. Rachel suspected that the girl's breakdown today was long overdue, because apparently she'd never really talked to anyone about Beth. Noah had indicated as much last week when he'd finally broached the subject of the adoption.
Rachel's fingers were playing over blonde hair, much of which had escaped the tight confines of the ponytail, and her right side was on fire where the Quinn's body molded to it. She squeezed her eyes closed, willing her heart to stop racing and her hormones to stop reacting. Inappropriate feelings were inappropriate. Quinn needed a friend right now, not…whatever Rachel was fantasizing about. She'd just broken up with her boyfriend three days ago, and the girl in her arms still very much had one. Even if Sam wasn't a very real obstacle, now was not the time to be thinking about how gorgeous Quinn Fabray looked regardless of having spent the last twenty minutes crying.
"I wish I had thought to bring my bag. I have tissues I could have offered you," Rachel remarked. "Oh, wait, how stupid," she muttered, attempting to gently untangle herself from Quinn. The girl protested at first, clinging a little tighter, then abruptly let go, unhappily slumping back against the wall. Rachel uncurled herself from the hard floor, her legs protesting as she did so. She stood and walked to the sink to retrieve the roll of paper towels, holding it up victoriously as she made her way back to Quinn, who looked up with a thin, sad smile before she wiped at her reddened eyes again.
"I must look like crap," she mumbled, reaching up for the offered towels and tearing a piece free to daintily dab at her eyes and nose.
Rachel sank back down beside her, offering a genuine smile. "I don't think its possible for you to ever really look bad, Quinn. You even manage to cry attractively."
"You're such a liar," Quinn whispered, losing the battle against the little grin that was tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"I prefer economical with the truth," Rachel clarified.
Quinn chuckled softly, her dewy gaze raking over Rachel. Then her fleeting smile slowly slipped into a pensive frown. "Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked. "I've been nothing but horrible to you for years."
"Everyone deserves a second chance," she reminded Quinn gently. Rachel truly did believe that. Perhaps some would think her woefully naïve, but she understood that people rarely presented their true selves to the world around them. Everyone was acting. Pretending to be better, or cooler, or richer, or smarter than they really were, and sometimes they got a little lost in the part they were playing and did things they would come to regret later. Rachel wanted to get to know the real Quinn Fabray-the sweet, vulnerable girl that peeked out from beneath the head bitch persona every so often.
Quinn exhaled on a single, soundless laugh, closing her eyes and looking away from Rachel's intense gaze. "I think I blew all my second chances sometime last year."
"I haven't always been very nice to you either." Rachel stared down at her own hands in her lap to avoid looking at Quinn as she continued to speak. "As you pointed out, I did attempt to seduce Finn away from you while you were together regardless of the fact that I believed you to be pregnant with his child at the time." Something that she was not proud to admit, but those were her fickle morals again. She'd wanted something, so she'd found a way to justify having it.
"I was a bitch to you long before that. It's not like you had a reason to care about my feelings," Quinn said sadly.
"But, at the very least, I should have respected your relationship with him," Rachel insisted, finally lifting her face to meet Quinn's eyes-eyes that she caught mid roll.
"I was lying to him," she reminded her.
"But I didn't know that at the time. I should have been more considerate."
"I've done some really awful things, Rachel," Quinn pointed out unabashedly. "I basically joined glee club so I could sabotage it from the inside."
Rachel shrugged, unimpressed by the completely unsurprising revelation. "I got Mr. Ryerson fired."
Quinn narrowed her gaze and frowned. "I told Coach about Santana's boob job so I could take her spot."
"I sent that Sunshine girl to a crack house."
"Yeah," Quinn nodded slowly, her expression serious and grave. "That was bad." Then she smirked and her eyes twinkled with mirth. "I was kind of impressed though."
Rachel sighed, "It's probably a very good thing that we were never, in fact, friends before now, Quinn, else we may have wreaked serious havoc upon the school."
They both began to giggle, and Quinn's head rolled to the left, bringing her face just inches from Rachel's once again. Their laughter slowly ebbed away as they watched one another, awareness spilling into the air around them and seeping into their lungs with every breath. If Rachel were to lean forward ever so slightly, she'd be able to taste those perfect, pink lips again. Lips that parted enticingly before cruelly destroying the moment.
"I need to wash my face," Quinn blurted out, jerking back and scrambling off the floor to rush across the room. Rachel heard the water start to run, and she dragged her own hands over her face, shaking her head. She couldn't take this anymore. Her heretofore easily assuaged libido was screaming at her to be acknowledged. Pressing her hands against the cold tile floor, she pushed herself up into a standing position and studied Quinn. She was currently bent over the sink, left forearm propped on the counter and right hand wiping at the back of her neck with a wet paper towel.
"We need to talk about this," Rachel announced flatly, making her way closer to the cheerleader.
Quinn shut the tap off and dropped the towel. "What? Me washing my face," she evaded, apparently finding something in the sink utterly fascinating since she refused to look away from it.
Rachel curled her fingers around the edge of the counter, watching the pink beneath her nails fade to white from the pressure. "This…thing that we've been attempting to ignore since Noah's party."
"No, we're not talking about that," Quinn insisted, spinning away from the sink and pacing halfway across the room to distance herself from Rachel.
"I realize that it may be slightly uncomfortable, but…"
"No!" Quinn barked, then pressed her left hand over her eyes as she shook her head and weakly muttered, "Not now, Rachel. I can't do this now." Quinn dropped her hand and looked up at Rachel with pleading eyes.
She looked terrified, and completely drained, and Rachel felt her heart ache for the girl. She sighed in resignation. "When?"
"I don't know." Quinn sucked her lower lip between her teeth and turned away, gazing blindly out the window.
Rachel leaned against the counter and studied her. Quinn had been sending out so many mixed signals in the last two weeks that she couldn't determine if she was coming or going. First she'd taken to tormenting her again, then she'd seemed apologetic and somewhat cordial, then downright friendly before turning back into the ice queen and ignoring her entirely for a week. Dealing with Quinn was like standing in the center of a hurricane and Rachel couldn't keep her footing at all.
Her own emotions were hardly any more reliable. Two weeks ago she'd been perfectly content and in love with her boyfriend-well, in…something like love. She was self aware enough to realize that she tended to over dramatize her every emotion to the point that everything felt bigger than it really was. She was so easily swept away, and usually ended up crashing and burning sooner or later. Yes, she'd loved Finn, but with hindsight, she could no longer claim that it had been the forever kind of love. Even if their relationship hadn't kept hitting sour notes, they probably wouldn't have made it past high school. Falling in love was wonderful while you were falling, but when you hit bottom, you either ended up hurt or completely numb.
Her feelings for Quinn were different. Unexpected.
She hadn't fallen.
She'd stumbled.
It was like they'd been dancing-actually, boxing would describe it better, but Rachel much preferred artistic metaphors to athletic ones-gliding around one another in a careful choreography with varying rhythms until Rachel had lost her balance just enough to stumble into Quinn. The action had thrown them both out of sync and now they were trying to learn new steps.
There was simply no use in denying it anymore-Rachel was attracted to Quinn. Attracted. Intrigued. Charmed. Captivated. Enamored. Enthralled. She really could go on for quite awhile as she had a very extensive vocabulary. Not that it mattered. The only words that could really make a difference right now were the ones that Quinn would never say.
She really was unfairly beautiful, from the graceful line of her throat to her high cheekbones and adorable nose-the tiny curve at the bridge adding character and keeping her from being too perfect-and those amazing eyes that shimmered with every shade of gold and green. It was easy to see why Finn, Noah, and Sam had all been so eager to try and impress her, but Quinn always seemed so far above them-as though she was only biding her time until something better came along. If Quinn was suppressing a secret attraction to women-a possibility that was growing stronger with every wistful look and unconsciously flirtatious smile-Rachel knew that she still wouldn't have a real chance with her. Not with Quinn's value system and certainly not while their social spheres were so far removed from one another, crossing only through glee club and a few mutual ex-boyfriends.
Did she even want a chance were it to actually appear?
The entire situation was horribly complicated. She couldn't even say for certain that she was gay. Until she'd kissed Quinn, she'd fully identified as straight, but now she was questioning everything. When Rachel had first discovered herself crushing on boys, she'd been…relieved. She adored her fathers, she truly did, and they'd raised her to be open to love in whatever form it existed, but that didn't exactly mean she was eager to embrace a life marred by prejudice and adversity. She already had to face that just being the daughter of a homosexual couple.
Had she ignored an attraction to women all this time in favor of making her life easier? Happy to classify her admiration of other girls' appearances as merely envious instead of potentially amorous? She simply didn't know. It was entirely possible that she might only be attracted to Quinn.
Evidently, her sexuality was still a work in progress.
•••
At 2:01 p.m., the McKinley High Glee Club gathered in the choir room for their usual afternoon rehearsal. Kurt was glancing back behind him and surveying the room when Mr. Schuester arrived. Mercedes elbowed him in the side and he looked over at her with a frown. "What?"
"What did you do?" she asked him suspiciously.
"What are you talking about?"
Mercedes opened her mouth, but Mr. Schuester's voice sounded out instead. "Where are Quinn and Rachel?"
Kurt had been wondering that as well. Quinn had skipped glee before on occasion, but Rachel never did-well, maybe once or twice, but never without a valid excuse (like laryngitis or being egged by an ex-boyfriend)-and after the last week, having both of them conspicuously missing at the same time made him nervous.
Most of the club shrugged and murmured "don't know," but Puck leaned back in his chair and joked, "maybe they're having a catfight in the girl's bathroom. I can go check it out if you want."
"You wish, Puckerman," Santana grumbled.
"Shouldn't you know where Rachel is, since you're so close now?" Finn questioned with a pathetic whine.
"Get over yourself, Finn," Mercedes told him.
"Yeah, man. Don't make me punch you," Puck threatened. "You blew it with Berry all by yourself."
"Alright, enough guys. Let's just get started. Mercedes, you're up first."
Kurt tried to keep his attention on his best friend's performance, because really, she totally rocked it-Chrissie Hynde would be proud-but his eyes kept darting back to the door waiting for either a blonde or brunette or both to suddenly appear. He glanced around the room, studying his team mates. He caught Santana's eye and raised a questioning brow, and she shrugged in reply. Tina shook her head to indicate that she was clueless. Brittany…well, she was always clueless, so he didn't even bother.
According to Santana, Quinn had been flipping her shit ll day because Rachel had decided to keep a low profile. Kurt knew the girl had been doing that mostly to avoid seeing Finn-or more accurately, seeing Finn scowl at her with his typical mix of angry accusation and hurt every time she came within ten feet of him. She may have been mostly okay with the breakup in theory, but Kurt knew that she was more bothered than she let on about the way things had ended. Still, Rachel would have never skipped glee just to avoid her ex. So that begged the question-had Quinn been worried enough about their girl to actually forget that she wasn't supposed to care and actually do something?
Kurt imagined that he'd have to track Rachel down for answers after school when almost the entire hour in glee had passed without any trace of the missing girls. Mr. Schue was back to tossing around new ideas for Regionals when the door slammed open and a pissed-off Quinn Fabray came marching into the room, Rachel hot on her heels.
"Okay which one of you morons locked us in the damn Home Ec room?" she growled.
"What?" Kurt squeaked in surprise, his head automatically turning in Santana's direction-where incidentally, the bulk of Quinn's attention was focused-but the girl looked just as shocked as he was.
"Is that where you two were?" Mercedes asked.
"Don't play innocent," Quinn snapped.
"Please, she's not that good an actress."
"Stuff it, Santana," Rachel shot back.
"Quinn, maybe you should just calm down," Mr. Schue started, but Quinn cut him off with a withering look.
"No offense, Mr. Schue, but this is none of your business and class is almost over anyway." It was true, there were less than five minutes left before the bell would ring.
Mr. Schuester held up his hands and nodded. "Okay, fine. Have it out. Just everybody be here Wednesday and be ready to work. Rachel," he said, "as captain, I'm trusting you to make sure things don't get out of hand."
"Of course, Mr. Schuester," she promised angelically, thousand-watt smile included.
"You're trusting her," Finn spat.
"Grow up, Hudson," Quinn demanded, clearly seething, and the boy slouched down in his seat looking dejected. Mr. Schuester shook his head in frustration and left his kids alone. How very unprofessional, Kurt thought. What else is new?
"Somebody better start talking. Now!"
"Quinn, perhaps a less confrontational approach might yield more favorable results," Rachel prompted, placing a hand on her arm. Quinn instantly relaxed into her touch. Well, that was new.
"We were locked in there for almost an hour, Rach! If I want to be confrontational, I damn well will be," Quinn insisted.
"Hold up," Santana said, dropping both feet to the floor and leaning forward on her elbows. "Did you just call her Rach?"
"People call her Rach," Quinn shot back, tensing up again.
"But you never have," Tina said.
"Well, I am now. And stop stalling." Quinn adopted her HBIC pose and swept her furious gaze across the risers. "Who. Locked. The. Door?"
"Maybe it was my cat. She's really sneaky."
Rachel shook her head at Brittany and turned to Quinn. "This is obviously a waste of time, Quinn. We aren't going to get an answer and frankly, discovering the culprit would hardly make any difference now. We should simply put the incident behind us."
"Yeah, you should listen to the midget, Q," Santana told her.
"Don't call her that," Quinn said, face going as red as her uniform.
That was definitely new. Kurt had to sit on his hands to keep from clapping in excitement and squealing like a little girl.
"It's alright," Rachel said lowly, again running a hand over Quinn's arm and calming her.
"Whatever," she finally breathed, "but I swear, if I ever find out who did this…"
"Yeah, yeah. You let your bitch flag fly and Berry will torture the culprit with a boring ten minute lecture," Santana snarked. "We're all trembling in our sneakers."
Quinn took a step forward, stopped only by Rachel's grip around her wrist. "You…"
"Quinn. Let it go."
"Fine," she gently shook off Rachel's touch. "I'm out of here. I've already lost an hour of my life that I'll never get back." She turned to leave, hesitating just a moment as her eyes caught Rachel's and a little flicker of a grin turned up the corner of her mouth, but she covered it with her familiar blank expression so quickly that Kurt thought he might have imagined the whole thing.
After Quinn left, Rachel turned back to face them with her hands on her hips. "I am very disappointed in all of you," she told them with a shake of her head. "If Mrs. O'Toole had not lost her bottle of Valium and needed the spare she keeps locked up with the butchers knives, Quinn and I may have been trapped together until the morning, and none of you were even concerned at our absence. I certainly hope the responsible party is appropriately ashamed of his or her self." That said, she spun on her heal and marched out of the room.
Finn gathered up his things and left right after Rachel's speech, followed by Sam and Mike. Artie gave Brittany a kiss and wheeled himself out the door. Kurt watched them all go while he was still trying to process this new development. He turned to Mercedes. "So, who did lock them up together?"
"Don't look at me. Those two still scare me a little."
"Yeah." Tina agreed. "I mean getting them to sit together or hang out a little is one thing, but locking them up in a room with knives and ovens…not really the brightest idea."
"Please, like you losers were making any progress with your pansy ass shopping trips and musical chairs. Those two chicks needed a real push."
"Puck?" Santana said in shock.
Kurt whipped around to looked at the jock still lounging up in the back row with a shit-eating grin on his face. "We really need to check the room before we start talking about the plan," he said to no one in particular.
"How did you even know?" Mercedes asked.
He shot her an offended look. "Please, give Puckzilla a little credit. I totally knew those two had the hots for each other. I mean come on, that kiss left burn marks on my mom's carpet," he reminded them. Then he shrugged, "Besides, my baby mama deserves better than Lady Lips, and Berry really needed to dump Hudson's unappreciative ass."
Mercedes shook her head in disbelief. "I thought you two were bros."
"We are, but man, he sucks as a boyfriend. I was tired of seeing Rachel all sad and shit."
"Wait," Santana turned fully in her chair, giving him a once over and then smirking. "You were totally trying to break them up on purpose."
"Well, duh! That was the plan even before the hot lesbian action started going down."
"I don't think they've gone down yet," Brittany announced.
"Oh God, the visual," Kurt muttered in disgust.
"Oh, yeah, the visual," Puck echoed in appreciation, nodding his head.
"You are such a pervert," Mercedes told him.
"You love me, babe."
"You wish."
"So what happens now?" Tina asked. "I mean, they seemed…kind of…"
"Like a couple," Kurt supplied dreamily.
"I wouldn't start planning the wedding yet, Hummel," Santana warned.
"Do you think I could be a bridesmaid?" Brittany wondered.
"Yeah, man," Puck cut in. "Berry may be a hot single Jew now, but Quinn's still got to lose Macauley Culkin."
"Ooh, good one," Santana nodded in approval.
"Do you two just sit around thinking up degrading nicknames all day?" Mercedes wanted to know.
"Comes naturally," Santana said.
"It's a gift," Puck bragged.
"So, how do you suggest we proceed?" Kurt asked them all. He still had the sleepover idea percolating in the back of his mind, but he was open to suggestions.
"Don't worry about the Ken Doll. It'll be easy enough to break up that boring relationship," Santana offered with a wicked smile, ignoring the angry little frown that Brittany aimed in her direction.
"Maybe we should just…let them be," Tina suggested mildly.
"Excuse me?" Kurt gasped.
Tina shrugged. "Well, they just spent an hour alone together and it seems like they're finally getting along. Can't we just wait and see what happens? I mean, maybe they just need some time to get closer on their own."
"Girl's got a point," Mercedes agreed.
Kurt slumped a little in his char. "I suppose," he pouted, and Mercedes giggled and wrapped an arm around him.
"It's okay, sweetie. Baby steps, remember."
•••
When Quinn arrived home from cheerio's practice, she was both physically and emotionally exhausted. She avoided her mother's concerned glance, claiming a headache, and went straight up to her room. She chanced a look in her mirror and cringed when she saw how red and puffy her eyes still were. She'd probably cried more in the last two weeks than she had through all of her pregnancy, and she'd been an emotional wreck then.
She hated feeling this way, like everything was spinning out of control. She just wanted to claw at her own skin and scream at the top of her lungs for it to stop. It was pathetic, and weak, and…painful.
God, so painful.
Quinn choked back another sob, pressing her hand to her mouth and breathing deeply. She wasn't going to fall apart again. She could hardly believe that she'd already let it happen so easily with Rachel earlier. Of all people…it would be her that Quinn would finally break in front of. It was oddly appropriate that Rachel Berry be the first person that she'd ever really talked to about her daughter. Before today, she'd never spoken about the baby…ever…to anyone. Sure, she and Puck had talked about it right after they'd given her up, and she'd talked to her mom a little when she'd first moved back in, but both conversations had been awkward and stilted. Since then, it was subject that she wouldn't bring up, but one that was constantly on her mind.
The only thing that kept her from going crazy was her belief that she'd given up her little girl to a better life. That Shelby Corcoran would be a better mother. Rachel's confession had just taken that away from her, and Quinn couldn't even be angry because it was all her own damn fault. She'd just been so lost last year-terrified and overwhelmed and completely clueless. She'd done everything wrong, from having sex with Puck to lying to Finn to turning down Rachel's honest offer of friendship. Mercedes had been a godsend in those last two months, but Quinn had never expected the Jones family to take responsibility for both her and her baby, so she'd ended up keeping an emotional distance during her stay with them.
She'd gone so long flipping back and forth daily between wanting to keep her baby and not wanting to have to deal with the pregnancy at all, that she hadn't been prepared in the least when she'd finally given birth. It hadn't helped that she'd gone into labor more than two weeks early. If her mother had come to her senses sooner and taken her home, or if someone as goal oriented as Rachel Berry had been supporting her from the beginning, pushing her to make a plan instead of just scheme to get her bills paid and keep her secrets, Quinn would never have found herself staring down at that perfect little person and feeling sick at the thought of just surrendering her to the hospital and never knowing what happened to her.
Shelby Corcoran had been in the perfect place at the perfect time with that sincere smile that was so much like Rachel's and saying all the right things. In retrospect, Quinn could admit that the idea of Rachel's mother raising her daughter had been a little bit comforting. She didn't even really know the woman, and she certainly hadn't known that she'd rejected her own daughter, but at the time, Quinn had looked at Shelby and instantly seen an older, less irritating version of Rachel with all the same passion, intelligence, and confidence. So she'd felt like she could trust Shelby. Maybe that should have been a big clue to her that her feelings for the girl were complicated.
Rachel had tried to tell her that Beth was loved and cared for, that Shelby really wasn't a bad person, and Quinn wanted to believe that for her daughter's sake, but she couldn't stop seeing the pain and jealousy in Rachel's brown eyes and feeling her heart break just a little more. If she just could have gotten over her damned fear and stubborn pride and admitted her feelings, she could have accepted Rachel's offer of friendship last year and not been all alone after Finn found out the truth. And Quinn could have been there for Rachel when she'd really needed a friend, and she would have known all these things about Shelby sooner, and maybe they could have picked out a nice adoptive family for Beth together. No one would have gotten hurt and Rachel would have never dated Finn because Quinn would have already given her all the love and support that he never could…
Her mental rambling came to an abrupt halt and she caught her breath, pressing a shaking hand over her skittering heart.
Love?
Did she…?
Oh, dear lord, she did.
She loved Rachel Berry.
Quinn stumbled backward until the backs of her knees hit her mattress and she sank down on the edge, dropping her head into her hands. This couldn't be happening. She'd almost come to terms with the weird attraction and the sudden surge of protectiveness, and yes, she'd really, really liked being in Rachel's arms today-she'd never felt so safe and cared for-but she wasn't ready to be in love.
In love?
"Oh, no," she whispered into her palms. She could ignore the attraction, and she could deal with liking Rachel, but if she was falling in love with the other girl, then she was in real trouble. Being in love made her vulnerable (like Rachel had seen more than once) and jealous (like she felt every time she'd had to watch Rachel with Finn or Puck) and possessive (like how she wanted to slap Santana every time she went near Rachel or made some sexual innuendo) and…nervous (when Rachel was near) and warm (when Rachel touched her) and happy (every time Rachel smiled at her) and aroused (all the time.)
Fuck!
She was in love with Rachel. When the hell did that happen?
Quinn lifted her face and stared at her laptop across the room. On autopilot, she moved to her desk and brought up her shortcut to MySpace-and shouldn't that link saved in her favorites have been a dead giveaway?-and clicked onto one of Rachel's older videos, hitting play and willfully ignoring the nasty comments underneath. Rachel's perfect, amazing voice filled the room as she poured her heart into Taking Chances, and a slow, watery smile blossomed on Quinn's lips as she imagined that the girl was singing that song just for her. She swiped at the fresh tears trickling over her cheeks in an attempt to keep the image of Rachel from becoming any blurrier.
Could she do it? Could she take that kind of chance?
"What do you say, Fabray?" she asked herself at the end of the song, still staring at Rachel's beautiful face on her screen.
As if in answer, the cell phone laying next to her hand started to vibrate and she glanced down, stomach dropping out at the possibility that it might be Rachel. When she picked it up and looked at the screen, the sensation turned foul.
Sam.
"Shit."
Chapter Nineteen