Promise Me (3)

Title: Promise me
Author: GirlnamedClark
Rating:  T
Summary: there was only one thing that Quinn had ever made Rachel promise her, and it was that she would take care of her baby if something happened to her. Character!death. Present time (angst)/flashback (fluff).
Note: thanks heaps to the kind 
mjacton  who came to my rescue and beta'd this for me.

Cliff and Robert were asked to leave. Judy Fabray walked determinedly inside the room throwing Rachel a look, as if she was something rather disgusting on her shoe. Rachel didn’t mind it; she was actually used to it coming from Judy. It was impressive how people that looked so much alike could be so different. Tears prickled her eyes and she felt herself quiver.

She dropped her eyes, not wanting to look at the woman who reminded her so much of Quinn. Her blonde hair, her hazel eyes, her overall facial features…  it was too painful. There was also the fact that Rachel felt like she had never hated someone or something that much.

“She knows where that boy is, I’m telling you!” Judy cried to Lamb.

Lamb lifted his palms authoritatively, quieting her.  “Mrs Fabray, I understand the stress you’ve been going through, but I must ask you to let me do my job.”

Rachel’s eyes were still firmly fixed on the ground when a pair of bowling shoes appeared in her vision and she knew they couldn’t be Russell’s. She lifted her gaze to see a tall, skinny, dark haired, goofy looking man, who smiled down to her. Vinnie Vanlowe.

Rachel knew Vinnie since the day she was born. He was a private investigator, and he and Robert had shared an office for years. Vinnie was hard to describe, but if Rachel really had to use one word for the purpose, she would use man-child. She didn’t dislike him entirely, though.

“Hey Rachel. What’s up?” he greeted her, as if they were just meeting each other at a café or something.

“Well, you know. I didn’t imagine there’d be air conditioning, but other than that, this is pretty much how I pictured hell,” she replied dryly.  “What are you doing here, anyway?” she asked, frowning, already suspicious about what was going to be his answer.

Vinnie Vanlowe was known to be the private detective with the lowest morals in the town. That had been one of the many reasons Robert had stopped working with him, that and because, after a while, Vinnie went from entertaining and interesting, to completely unbearable. Rachel always thought of him like the “cool uncle,” even though he was only good in small doses.

“Big case, missing person.”  He gestured with his fingers to indicate he was after money, primarily.  “You know the drill. So where’s the boy, Rachel?” he asked, casually.

“Alright, alright, I’ll ask the questions here” Lamb cut in. His loathing of private detectives included Vinnie.  “Mr Fabray, a word of advice: private investigators only make the work of law enforcement officers harder. Now I have to ask you all to step outside so that I can have a little talk with Miss Berry here.”

“Keep us posted on any developments,” Russell requested, simply, not daring to glance toward the girl who was still sitting on the chair by the table, with her back turned toward him. Judy, though, before leaving the room, made sure to throw Rachel one of her scornful glares.

The Sheriff nodded and then they were all alone. Lamb rested a pad of paper and a pen in front of her, on the table.

“Write down anything you can think of about Noah Puckerman. Secret credit cards, fake IDs, hiding spots, places he always wanted to visit, his favorite restaurants, friends out of town, everything.”

Rachel reluctantly picked up the pen but paused, looking up at the Sheriff.  “Let me ask you a question. Do you think the baby is better now, with Puck, or with the Fabrays? You know what they did to Quinn. You couldn’t do anything because Russell Fabray is too important in Lima, but you knew the kind of abuses they put her through…”

“Despite my thoughts about the subject, what you’re friend is doing is wrong. The Fabrays have the right to order him arrested and they have the right to Faith Fabray. Now, start writing.  You are not going home until that pad is full. And then, if I happen to discover that you left anything out, I will make it my personal mission to see you in prison as an accessory.”

Rachel sighed. She really hated this, but she had no choice. Unenthusiastically, she wrote down everything she could think of, leaving nothing out.

The Sheriff’s department’s office was quiet when Rachel was finally let go. She raised her eyes to the clock fixed over the door and realized it was almost ten o’clock. Three hours she had been in the interrogation room. Her head was aching and she was feeling completely exhausted.  The thought of the comfort of her warm sheets was the only motivation for her to keep walking.

The way she was feeling, the last person she wanted to deal with was Vinnie Vanlowe.

He was waiting for her outside the building, chewing gum, leaning against his car, his hands in his pockets. Rachel sighed heavily “What are you still doing here?”.

“I’m waiting for you, silly” he said in the jovial tone he used with everybody, as if they were all his old friends.

“What do you want?” Rachel asked, testily, crossing her arms.

He turned his head and spat the gum he had been chewing out before facing her again with a confident smile.  “I thought I would give you the opportunity to tell me where the boy is, save us all some time and trouble, and, you know,” he shrugged, dismissively “earn some karma points.”

Rachel stared at him like he was crazy.  “I don’t know where he is,” she repeated for the twentieth time that night.  “I have no idea where Puck is. And, even if I did, you would probably be…” she rolled her eyes, pretending to be counting “the last person I would tell.”

“Did I hear that right?” Vinnie teased.  “Did you just insinuate that you would tell Osama Bin Laden where the boy is before you would tell me? Because back in my day we had a little thing called patriotism”.


Rachel rolled her eyes in annoyance and she tried to walk away, knowing that a conversation with Vinnie Vanlowe was one of the most stupid things she could engage in. Vinnie grasped her arm, softly.  “Okay, okay…” he conceded.  “Let’s make this fair for you. The old couple”-- Rachel almost chuckled when she realized Vinnie was referring to the Fabrays-- “is paying me big money. Let’s say… 2 thousand dollars for the information”--he winked in  a way he was sure was charming.  “The karma points are yours to keep and if you act now I’ll throw a free set of steak knifes.”

Rachel sighed, lowering her head, as if she didn’t know what else to do. She knew he didn’t understnand she wasn’t involved for her own gain.  She straightened herself up and she repeated, using fake sign language as if that would help Vinnie to understand what she was saying “I don’t know where he is.”

“Alright” he smiled, as if this conversation was the most stimulating thing he had done in a while.  “You can’t blame a guy for trying” Rachel was about to turn away to leave when his voice called her again.  “But seventy hours from now, I’m gonna have that kid back. And you’ll wish you had those steak knives”.



“Hey Rachel? You know what would make me happy? If I got home in time for dinner” Quinn announced teasingly, as she eyed the brunette at the wheel.

Rachel gasped, feigning offense.  “I can’t believe how ungrateful you are. I’ve just voluntarily offered my time to drive you to your doctor’s appointment and you can’t stop complaining about my driving.”

“Oh, don’t pretend like you’re so selfless. You wanted to see the first ultrasound.  Admit it.”  Quinn eyed her amusedly.  “Besides, I’m not complaining about your overall driving, I’m just saying you could accelerate a little bit.”  Quinn gestured to the window.  “Look, Grandpa just passed us. I think I’m going to go into labor before you get me home.”

“Haha, being careful is funny” Rachel replied sardonically.  “Now, shut up. You’re distracting me and I don’t want to crash.”

“Well, I don’t think it’s possible to crash at 20 mph,” Quinn commented, looking through the window. Who would know that Rachel’s quirks that annoyed her so much two years ago were now some of the things about her that Quinn most appreciated. Rachel was Rachel, no matter how people felt about it. She was not going to speed up just so she didn’t look dorky; if she was .comfortable driving at 20 mph, that was how fast she was going to drive.

Suddenly, red and blue lights flashed into the car and the Sheriff’s deputy’s car behind them ordered her to pull over. Rachel looked through the rearview mirror, confusedly, as she pulled over.

“What the hell?” Quinn exclaimed, equally confused, as the car stopped behind them.

Rachel watched as the car’s door opened and the Sheriff appeared from inside, holding his flashlight and a smug smile.  “Shit. It’s Lamb.”

Quinn turned to look through the back window, frowning.  “I really don’t understand what that man has against you, but it’s really starting to piss me off.”

“Shhh, just keep quiet. I’ll talk. You know he’s always trying to find a reason to take me in, and your mouth could do the trick,” Rachel warned her, as she reached for her wallet where she had her license.

Lamb took his time approaching the car, as if relishing every moment of the anxiety he was causing. When he finally reached Rachel’s window he slightly bent over to look through it, pointing his flashlight directly at her face, making her squint, and then at Quinn.

“Well, well, well. Look who we have here.”

“How are you tonight, Sheriff?” Quinn asked in a subtly provocative tone.

Rachel glared at her, before turning back to Lamb.  “Is there anything wrong, Sheriff?”

Lamb’s eyes lingered on Rachel, before he held his hand open.  “License, please,” he requested simply.

Rachel hurried to hand him her driver’s license. He seemed disappointed that she had one. He handed it back to her, calmly, pointing the flashlight directly into her face again.  “Are you aware that this particular road has a minimum speed of 30 miles per hour?” he asked, arching his eyebrows seriously.

Rachel’s jaw dropped to the ground.  “You’re actually going to give me a ticket because I was going too slow,” she half stated, half asked.  She knew Lamb would do it.  By her side, Quinn had broken into laughter, dropping her head backwards against the car’s seat.

Ignoring Quinn, Lamb eyed Rachel in annoyance.  “Don’t you take road safety seriously? It’s a serious thing, Miss Berry.”  Rachel couldn’t believe that Quinn was the one laughing hilariously when she was the one being lectured about not taking things seriously.

“Yes, I understand and agree. I apologize for driving too slow. I won’t let that happen again”

Lamb stared at her for a moment, before continuing.  “Unfortunately”--yes, he had said unfortunately-- “this is your first time being pulled over. I’m going to let you go with a warning, for now.”

“I appreciate that, Sheriff,” Rachel replied.

“But you’ve been warned now. Next time I won’t be so lenient.”

“I understand. I appreciate your compassion,” Rachel nodded, eager for him to leave. He nodded and without saying anything else, walked back into his car.

“What an ass,” Quinn commented, as she watched the Sheriff get inside his car. Rachel sighed in relief, as she turned her car back on.  “Road security is a serious thing” she mimicked.

“Just forget him. You know he hates my father.”

“Right. I thought that a town’s Sheriff would be mature enough to be able to separate his personal feelings from his profession. But what am I thinking, it’s Lamb we’re talking about…” Quinn shook her head disapprovingly.

Rachel got back onto the road. Quinn watched as she struggled with pressing the accelerator harder than she was used to. She was eyeing the speedometer anxiously.  “A little bit more…” she mumbled under her breath.

“Do you want me to drive?” Quinn asked, because she could see Rachel was very nervous about speeding up.

“No, no, it’s okay… I just have to get used to this.”

The Sheriff car had already disappeared when both Quinn and Rachel heard a scratching against the side of the car. It was almost like they had run over something, but whatever it was it had escaped a full contact crash. Rachel immediately pressed the brakes.

“Oh my God. Did you see that? Oh my God.”  Rachel was freaking out.

“I didn’t see anything”.

“It all happened to fast. It jumped on the road, I couldn’t stop the car fast enough.”  Rachel looked nervously through the window.  “Oh my God, I just ran over a deer.”

“A deer?!” Quinn leaned over Rachel to see if what she was telling her was true. There was nothing on the road. Whatever Rachel had bumped into, had escaped inside the woods by the roadside.

“Yes. I saw it. It was brown and… you know…” Rachel gestured something that Quinn didn’t understand.  “Oh my God, I have to see if it’s okay.”  Rachel opened her door, stepping outside.

“Rachel, there’s no deer in Lima…”  Quinn tried to call her, but the girl was already disappearing inside the woods  “Where are you going?...” she hurried to unbuckle her seatbelt and followed the brunette.  “Rachel! Come back here. Are you crazy?”

Quinn’s legs were longer, and she was able to catch Rachel quickly, as the girl desperately searched for the injured deer.

“You can’t just go inside the woods at night. What are you thinking?”.

“I need to see if it’s okay,” Rachel repeated, not looking at her, bending down and starting to call the animal.

“Look, whatever it is, it ran away.  I’m sure it’s okay,” Quinn tried to reason, wearily.

“It might have internal injuries, Quinn!” Rachel cried exasperatedly.

Quinn stood there, glaring at Rachel, as if she was the most incomprehensible thing she had ever faced. And she probably was. Rachel didn’t seem to mind her stare, as she continued her search. Finally, Quinn sighed, and she gave up, because she knew that if she didn’t let Rachel try to find the poor injured “deer,” she would never shut up about it.

Quinn sat on the edge of the road.  “Don’t go out of my sight, okay?” she called to Rachel and Rachel only nodded.

She let Rachel take her time. Rachel’s compassion and the fact that she actually cared were one of the many things that Quinn envied in her, along with her talent and her smile. It was hard to be annoyed at Rachel when she was so perfect and adorable and a genuinely good person. Quinn glared at Rachel the entire time, deep in her thoughts, thinking about how she had gotten there – not specifically that place at that night – but with Rachel as her best friend. She was so thankful about how things had turned out. Rachel made her a better person. Rachel taught her things everyday, without even realizing it. Rachel made her happy and Rachel was everything that Quinn could have asked to have by her side during what she could predict to be a hard year to come.

Eventually, defeated, Rachel came back to the edge of the road, her face expressing the frustration caused by her half hour long failed search.

“I can’t find him.”  Quinn smiled.  Now it had turned into a him? She knew that in the near future Rachel would start referring to him as Bambi.  “What else can I do?” she asked miserably.

Quinn grinned in affection, as she held out her hand to Rachel.  “Come here,” she mumbled softly. Rachel took her hand and let Quinn pull her down to sit by her side. Rachel sighed heavily as she rested her head on Quinn’s shoulder, and the blonde touched her face. They stayed like that, watching the woods, for several minutes.

“Didn’t you have to be home for dinner?” Rachel finally asked, breaking the heavy, meaningful silence that had settled between them.

“Well, after the pregnancy thing, I think it’s hard for my parents to be mad at me for not for not making it to dinner,” she answered slightly sarcastically.

“I think it would be best if you didn’t provoke them,” Rachel commented quietly.

Quinn turned her head to look at her “Do you want to be somewhere else?” she asked.

Rachel bit her lower lip before answering bluntly “No.”

“Me neither. I’m right where I want to be.”

Promise Me (2)

Title: Promise me
Author: GirlnamedClark
Rating: T
Summary: there was only one thing that Quinn had ever made Rachel promise her, and it was that she would take care of her baby if something happened to her. Character!death. Present time (angst)/flashback (fluff).

Where is Quinn
? Rachel asked herself, as she looked down to her watch only to realize that the girl was half an hour late for their national's general rehearsal. Mr. Schue had already given up on waiting for her and he ordered everyone to get in their places.

Rachel climbed to the top of the tiny bleachers on the stage of the auditorium everyone else – since last year, after they won at Nationals, Glee club had been receiving new members, and now was constituted of 26 people – where she could be best seen and heard. Mercedes was the one who had got the solo for that song, but that didn't mean that Rachel had to blend in with everyone else. Just because she didn't have the solo it didn't mean she couldn't stand out.

Mr Schue directed them as they started singing. Rachel was not made to sing in the background, but she had learned that it would provide her a better sense of harmony, which would come up handy if she ever got accepted to Julliard and actually wanted to pursue her dream of being a Broadway star. Plus, not getting the solo meant that she could climb to the top of the bleachers. There, she and Quinn could be do almost anything without Mr Schue noticing.

And, by the way, where was Quinn Fabray?

Rachel suddenly noted that Puck wasn't there as well. Would they be together? They were not dating anymore, and Quinn had told Rachel that Puck was the platonic love of her life, but you never knew with those two.

Suddenly and startling Rachel, she felt a tug on her leg. She was about to scream and shake her leg until whatever it was holding her leg let her go, when she looked down and, between the bleachers gaps, she saw Quinn's face, looking up at her, one finger over her lips. Rachel had to press her hand to her chest to try to calm herself down. What was Quinn doing bellow the bleachers?

"Come here" Quinn mouthed, gesturing. Rachel looked up, anxiously. Mr Schue wasn't paying her any attention, so she briskly jumped off the bleachers and crawled bellow them to meet Quinn. Quinn was waiting for her with an expectant smile.

"Where have you been?" Rachel asked reprehensively, knowing that, with the singing that was going on, no one would ever hear them talking "you're late and you almost missed the rehearsal. It's our last opportunity to polish our performances so that we are able…"

Rachel stopped talking when she felt Quinn's index finger against her lips "I went to the pharmacy".

"Why would you?..." Rachel's question was lost in her mouth, as realization hit her. They had talked about this before. How Quinn hadn't been getting her period. Quinn was the one suggesting that she might be pregnant. Rachel was surprised by her nonchalance and asked her what would her parents do if she was indeed pregnant. Quinn had replied that they were completely against abortion and that they would hate her for being pregnant, but they would have to accept it. Plus, Quinn added, excitedly, Puck's pool cleaning business is expanding and he said that we could rent a house. And I still have the money I inherited from my grandmother.

I thought you couldn't touch the money until you were overaged, Rachel had noted, frowning confusedly. Quinn had shaken her head with an amused smile guess who's turning eighteen in two months.

Quinn raised a small object that had the form of a pen and Rachel's eyes widened "well?" she asked, expectantly.

"I don't know yet" Quinn dropped her eyes to the object "it says here that it takes about five minutes".

"You don't know yet?" Rachel cried.

"No, I'm waiting for this thingy to tell me. I came straight from the bathroom" Quinn explained, practically.

"How accurate are these things, really?" Rachel asked, as she tried to reach for the pregnancy stick, but Quinn stopped her.

"Hey, remember what I've just done to this?" Quinn asked, sarcastically, arching a brow in a meaningful away. Rachel retracted.

"Oh. Gross".

"They are not one hundred percent accurate, but they're enough" Quinn replied, checking her watch "oh God. Twenty seconds".

"What are we expecting to see? A word, a plus sign, what?" Rachel inquired, leaning closer to Quinn, their heads touching as they both looked down at the stick.

"I think it's a pink line for a positive result" Quinn answered, now anxiety transpiring on her voice. Rachel looked up to the feet of the people singing, nervously.

"Five seconds" Quinn whispered, now completely breathless.

Rachel mentally counted. Four, three, two, one.

"Quinn?" Rachel called and the blonde looked up, confusedly "whatever the result is going to be, I'm here for you. I just wanted you to know that".

Quinn's lips stretched on a genuine affective smile "I know, Rach".

They both looked down and there's a moment of silence. They both stare at the thin, though clear, pink line, as if making sure they were not hallucinating.

Rachel squealed and Quinn laughed as she was being choked by Rachel's arms "you're having a baby!".


"Are you sure you can get it by tomorrow?" Rachel asked, anxiously eyeing Puck, who was standing up on her bedroom, looking through the window to the street.

"Yeah" he said, turning around, though his tone didn't sound convincing to Rachel's ears "I'll try to get it tonight. She's not going to be home, so…"

"Are you sure you want to do it this way?" Rachel asked, hesitantly, captivating his eyes toward her direction "I mean, there's other ways to get the money, we don't have to…"

"No, Rachel, this way is just fine. It's my father's money, anyway" he told her reassuringly, as he moved toward the bed where Rachel was sitting. For a moment, he remained standing up, looking down at Rachel, his eyes revealing a mix of compassion and affection. Puck had not been handling this entire thing right, but since he had reunited with Rachel, he had been doing much better. Rachel understood him and, not only, she was ready and willing to help him. Not help him like everyone else was trying to by recommending him to see a shrink, or giving him comforting pats on his back; she was going to help him with what he really wanted. Rachel was his only ally in what he had promised himself to make his life mission: getting his daughter.

"Are we clear about our plan?" Rachel asked, again anxiously, her puppy chocolate eyes staring up at him as he thoughtfully glared her "Puck, I really need you to promise me that you'll stick to what we agreed. I don't want you to do anything crazy or rash".

Puck sat down by her side, his knees slightly brushing against hers "Rachel, have I told you how much I appreciate what you are doing? Have I thanked you enough?" he asked, really wanting to know the answer. Because as many times he could utter thank you, he would feel forever grateful for what Rachel was doing and he would always feel like he couldn't pay her back for it.

Rachel smiled, sadly. Puck knew what she was telling him with that gesture. She was telling him that he didn't have to thank her, because she wasn't doing thid just for him. Puck was completely aware of that fact. Rachel and Puck were good friends – Quinn had brought them together – but Rachel's main concern wasn't Puck's well-being. Her main concern was Spencer Fabray.

"I'm so thankful…" Puck mumbled anyway, and then he lifted his eyes to Rachel, by his side "and I know Quinn would be too. She is".

He immediately saw the tears invoked by the mentioning of Quinn's name in Rachel's eyes. Her lower lip quivered and she looked away. Puck reached for her hand, squeezing it softly.

Rachel dropped her head, not wanting to let Puck see her cry. Puck gently brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. He pressed his finger bellow her chin and made her turn her face toward him. Then, gently, he leaned forward and captured her lips in a soft, caring kiss.

Rachel closed her eyes, tears sliding down her cheeks, but she let him kiss her. For a moment.

"Noah" she then called, in a whisper.

He straightened himself up, blinking confusedly and embarrassedly. His face turned of a deep shade of red, as he turned himself around "I'm sorry. God. I'm so sorry, Rachel. I didn't mean to… I just… I'm having a hard time dealing with this. I apologize".

"It's okay" Rachel said "Noah, it's okay. I understand".


It was not the first time that Sheriff Lamb appeared at the Berry's door, unfortunately. Robert sighed heavily, before he opened the door and tried to look as welcoming and inviting as the smug and completely obnoxious man allowed him to.

Rachel was a good girl. She was. She wasn't the type of getting into trouble. She did what every other teenager did, she just happened to be brought home by Lamb more than the rest because Sheriff Lamb completely hated her because of the fact that she was the daughter of the best private detective in Lima, and the man that constantly resolved the Sheriffs cases making look like… well, an idiot.

"What do I owe the pleasure, Sheriff Lamb?" Robert asked, forcing his upbeat tone, as he leaned against the door frame with a grin. Behind the Sheriff was Deputy Sacks that was probably even dumber than the Sheriff himself.

"I'm here to see your daughter" Lamb answered him, not bothering to return the pleasantries.

"Well, I'm not sure if she's home" Robert told him, holding his forced smile, knowing perfectly that Rachel was upstairs, just like she had been for the past months.

"Berry, this is not a joke. The Fabray's baby is missing".

Robert's expression immediately changed and his body tensed, as he straightened himself up "what?".

"Faith Fabray is missing and so is Noah Puckerman. Now get your daughter in here, right now, so that I know that she's not missing as well" Lamb ordered his tone rising slightly.

Robert glared the Sheriff frowning, before he stepped back inside his house. Anxiety overwhelmed him as he realized that he hadn't actually seen Rachel since lunch "Rachel?". She couldn't… she wouldn't…

"Yeah?" her voice made him relax automatically, relieved.

"Can you come downstairs for a minute, honey?" he called, meeting the Sheriff at the entrance of the house again.

Rachel appeared, with a careful expression, eyeing her father and then the Sheriff and the Deputy "what's this about?".

Robert inspected his daughter closely. As much as he liked to deny it, there was a perfectly valid chance that his daughter was involved in this. He knew how close she and Quinn were. He knew how upset her daughter had been after the girl had died and he knew how upset she was when the Fabray's got Quinn's daughter. Rachel, though, seemed oblivious to the fact why the Sheriff was there, but Robert knew her enough to know that she was a very good actress. Almost 18 years hadn't allowed him to catch on her bluffing, yet.

"Honey, Puck is missing" Robert told her softly, staring closely at her face for any signal that she already knew about this. She didn't show it, as her mouth slightly opened in confusion.

"What do you mean, missing?".

"He's taken…" he started, but Lamb cut him, impatiently.

"He has kidnapped the Fabray's baby" he paused and then arched one of his dark brows "but you already knew that, didn't you?".

Rachel frowned and looked at him confusedly "what?".

The Sheriff sighed in impatience as he stepped inside the house with his handcuffs "Rachel Berry, you are under arrest as an accomplice in the abduction of Faith Fabray".

Rachel looked astonished and she searched for her father eyes. Robert seemed to have frozen in surprise as Lamb made his way past him.

"Is this really necessary?" he asked, annoyed, as he stared down at the handcuffs "she'll come with you voluntarily, plus, you have no proofs against her".

"Actually, we have something" Lamb informed him, as he turned Rachel around and handcuffed her without ceremonies.

Robert threw a furious glare toward Rachel, but she shook her head, tears invading her eyes "dad, I didn't do anything" she cried.

"I will be the judge of that" Lamb told her, hurrying her toward the door.

"This is ridiculous" Rachel announced to thin air, seeing that she was left alone in the dark interrogation room, her hands still cuffed. She shifted on her chair, uncomfortably, but then she looses balance and almost falls sideways into the floor. She felt revolted, annoyed, mad, and she really wanted to scratch her forehead.

She let her head fall forward, resting in against the wood table in front of her and she sighed. She felt unbelievable uncomfortable with the possibility that someone was staring at her through the dark mirror window. She wondered if that was a method of interrogation. Let the interrogated person waiting there, not knowing what they wanted from them, driving them crazy, until they confessed to any crime they did or did not commit.

When Rachel finally heard the door behind her being pushed opened, she straightened himself up, immediately, to see Sheriff Lamb, her father and Cliff – her father's friend and lawyer – step inside the room.

"I'm sorry about the wait, we had to wait for your lawyer to arrive so that I can talk to you" Sheriff Lamb announced, in a tone that indicated that he felt like he didn't have to give you any explanations.

"I'm sorry, but my wife thinks it's funny to hide my car keys" Cliff said and Lamb stared at him weirdly. Rachel didn't take it seriously, because she knew Cliff and his odd sense of humor. Plus, she had more to worry about "first and foremost, Sheriff, you'll have to take her handcuffs off. It's completely ridiculous".

The Sheriff stared at him arching his brow as if to make sure everyone understood that he was the one in charge in that room. But then, slowly and reluctantly, he freed Rachel from the handcuffs.

"What was that about?" she asked to the Sheriff, mentioning the line-up that she had been put through, as she massaged her bruised wrists.

"You were just indentified by a merchant from a jewelry store owner from Carmel" Lamb announced, casually.

Rachel blushed as she dropped her eyes to the ground "oh".

"What do you mean, oh?" her father snapped, madly, eying her unbelievably "I was expecting rage, shock, indignation!".

Rachel stared at him apologetically, before turning to Cliff "I know what they must be thinking. But it's not like that".

"The why don't you explain me what were you doing in the possession of a very valuable pair of earrings that belonged to Chrystal Puckerman, Noah Puckerman's stepmother, and what entitled you to sell the piece of jewelry that didn't belong to you for…" Lamb checked his notes "five thousand dollars?" Lamb defied, sitting against the table, crossing his arms and feigning interest.

"First of all, I didn't know it belonged to Chrystal. I suspected it, but I was never told so" Rachel explained, practically. Robert seemed close to explode and she avoided his gaze carefully "secondly, I only sold it because Puck asked me to do it".

"But, Rachel, why would you do so?" Robert asked, exasperatedly.

"What do you mean, why she did it?" Lamb stood up "she sold it to finance his escape. That's obvious".

"No!" Rachel cried in despair, shaking her head "that was not where it was supposed to go. We had a plan".

"I can see that" the Sheriff commented cynically, walking around her. She turned in her chair to continue to glare at him, despaired for him to believe her.

"No, that's not what I meant. We were going to hire a lawyer, a good lawyer" Cliff feigned offense "Puck was going to try to get the custody of the baby. That was what the money was for. I swear" she eyed her father, who still stared at her suspiciously.

"Now, let me tell you what I think. I think you sold Chrystal Puckerman's earrings so that Noah Puckerman could run away with Faith Fabray…"

"Spencer Fabray" Rachel corrected between her teeth, her eyes falling to the ground and her shaky hands grabbing the sides of the chair she was sitting on.

"… and you stayed behind to look all innocent and naïve, so that we thought he had played you into helping him without you really knowing what he meant".

"That is a lot of thinking for you to do. You might tire yourself" Rachel joked, humorlessly, because she just hated Sheriff Lamb. He always got out of his way to catch Rachel doing something she wasn't supposed to do.

Rachel almost jumped when her father's fist hit the table, provoking a loud noise "this is not a joke, Rachel! This is serious. Do you know how serious it is to be accused of accessory in a kidnap or even kidnap itself?" Rachel flinched at her father's rage and he softened "straighten up" he ordered her, sucking his lower lip, regretting that he had lost his temper "now, what Puck did was wrong and I don't want you to think otherwise. The Fabray's have the legal custody of the baby. So you are going to cooperate with the Sheriff and you are going to answer every question he has, do you understand?".

Rachel stared hardly against her father, tears prickling her eyes. She knew he was right, this was a serious business. But it sickened her the thought of helping anyone to get Spencer back to the Fabray's. She lowered her head and, against every instinct in her body, she nodded.

"She will cooperate, Sheriff" Cliff announced, cheerfully, as if announcing the gender of a baby.

"Great" Lamb replied coldly, because, make no mistake, if she didn't, he would be sure she would suffer the consequences.

At that moment, Sacks opened the door of the interrogation room "we have a couple of visitors, Sheriff" he announced.

Rachel's jaw tightened when she watched a painfully familiar blonde woman and a man walking inside the room. She didn't even notice the man that followed them inside, as well.

Promise Me (chapter 1)

Title: Promise me
Author: GirlnamedClark
Rating:  T
Summary: there was only one thing that Quinn had ever made Rachel promise her, and it was that she would take care of her baby if something happened to her. Character!death. Present time (angst)/flashback (fluff).
Rachel has to find a way to take Quinn’s daughter out of the Fabray’s hands. Master!plan.
Notes: based on a Veronica Mars’ ep. because that’s how I role.


Things you should know before you read this:

-          Rachel and Quinn were a couple during Quinn’s pregnancy

-          They were friends prior to that

-          One of Rachel’s dads is a private detective which means she knows a lot about that area

-          Lima is in California ;)





“I need you to promise me” Quinn begged, as she gripped Rachel’s shirt when the brunette leaned down to hug her. Rachel simply couldn’t look at Quinn when she cried. She couldn’t stop the feeling of unbelievable torment when she would see the cheerleader in such state. She had tried to reach for her, hold her, trying to absorb her angst. But that was not what Quinn needed. She needed her to promise her, to guarantee her.

Rachel pulled way, her soft chocolate eyes blurred with hopeless tears because if she promised that to Quinn, it would be like admitting the possibility that Quinn could… Rachel simply couldn’t admit that possibility.

“Rachel” Quinn didn’t let go of Rachel’s shirt, her red and swollen eyes piercing into hers in desperation “I need you to promise me you will take care of her. Whatever happens. Whatever it takes”.

“No!” Rachel shook her head vehemently “I will not. Because you’re not going to die. You are not. Quinn, you’re going to be here for her. You’re going to take care of her. And I’ll be here to help you, of course, but I don’t need to promise you that. You know I’ll always be here for you”.

“Why don’t you just promise me that you’ll take care of her?” Quinn demanded, her face furrowed in pain and confusion, her voice squealing as if it was hard for her to have any sound come out. Rachel had never seen her like that. She was genuinely scared. Not only for her life; she was scared for her daughter’s.

“Quinn…” Rachel shook her head, begging for comprehension.

“They will get her if I die. They will get her and they will treat her like they treated me” Quinn cried “you know what they did to me. You know. I can’t simply let my daughter grow like that”.

Rachel turned away from the hospital bed where Quinn was lying and she pressed her hand against her tears, soaking them. She knew how the Fabray’s were like. She knew how they had treated Quinn. They physically abused of her, they made her grown in an unhealthy and inhuman environment of fear; they had broken Quinn “you are not going to die. And when you have Spencer we are both going to go to New York, as we planned, remember? You have your scholarship, I might get into Julliard. We are going to go as far away from them as possible, and there’s nothing to worry about. So I don’t need to promise you that”.

“Rachel” Quinn’s begging tone – that she had never used before and completely crept Rachel out – made the brunette turn to face her again. Quinn’s breath was being cut by heavy sobs and she could barely manage to talk. She extended her hand toward her and Rachel promptly took it. Quinn pulled Rachel and kissed her. The taste of Quinn and tears made Rachel’s mind shortcut. Quinn couldn’t die. She just couldn’t “promise me” the words were whispered against Rachel’s lips, as hazel eyes locked deeply into chocolate.

Rachel closed her eyes, fat tears sliding down her cheeks “I promise, Quinn. I’ll take care of her. Whatever it takes”.



Quinn Fabray, daughter of Russel Fabray and Judy Fabray, passed away yesterday in Lima’s central hospital while giving birth to her daughter. Quinn had previously been diagnosed with a high risk pregnancy. The baby was born healthy and is going to live with her grandparents.




Two months. Two entire months, and the pain hadn’t faded away.

The entire world didn’t understand. They just didn’t. When they squeezed Rachel’s shoulder and they told her they did, Rachel wanted to punch them in the face. It wasn’t possible that they understood, because nobody loved Quinn Fabray as completely and unconditionally as Rachel did.

Rachel’s world had stopped. She didn’t feel like she was living any more. She hadn’t sung since the day that Quinn had died. She hadn’t done anything but to cry alone in her room since the day Quinn had died.

People had tried to reach out for her. They had. Her dads still knocked at every meal and tried to persuade her to come down stairs to eat with them. They wouldn’t succeed and they would then just try to persuade her into eat something. Finn visited her frequently. He claimed that he knew how she was feeling, that he had loved Quinn too, but Rachel couldn’t believe him. Mercedes, Kurt, Tina, Brittany, Artie, they had all stopped by to offer their support to the brunette, but she simply couldn’t stand the sight of someone eyeing her pitifully. So she threw them out and she made sure neither of them ever felt like visiting her again.

When her fathers brought her the news that their school was going to plan a memorial in Quinn’s name, Rachel was sick. Everyone standing there, pretending like they had been Quinn’s best friends all her life, tearing up and saying cliché sentences.

They made her come. Rachel knew that the pre-fabricated memorial would mean nothing to her; it wasn’t as if she felt like it would be an offense to Quinn’s memory if she didn’t go. She hadn’t yet said goodbye to her and she wasn’t sure if she would ever be able to do so, but it was certainly not going to be in a memorial planned by hypocritical people.

But no one had told her that they were going to show a video in Quinn’s memory. When Rachel had been informed of such a thing, she felt a panic attack over coming her. It was hard to hear talking about Quinn, but actually seeing her… she couldn’t take it.

She looked at herself in the mirror, when she escaped to the school’s bathroom, and she tried to remind herself how to breathe. She had been doing that a lot lately. Her panic attacks had started the same night Quinn had died and they hadn’t stopped since then.

“Are you okay?” Rachel almost jumped at the sound of a voice. She didn’t know the girl, and yet she was offering her most compassionate expression. It was making her more and more upset.

Rachel escaped outside of the bathroom and instead of going back to the where the memorial was being held, she turned on her heels and walked in the opposite direction, toward the parking lot. Her dads were still at the memorial and they had the car keys, but Rachel figured she could walk home. Fresh air would do her good. She hadn’t left home in weeks.

As she walked across the parking lot, her arms crossed to protect her from the light breeze of the beginning of the evening, she saw a figure of a man, far ahead, covered in the shadows of a three, on the small grove behind the school. It seemed like him. Rachel stopped to glare, unsure if it was really him. She hadn’t seen him since the funeral. She actually hadn’t heard of him since then, as well. He had completely vanished.

Uncertain, Rachel approached the wood, knowing it was fairly stupid of her to do such a thing at night. It could be anybody. But it wasn’t. Her heart tightened as she realized she was right and it was him.

“Noah” she said, softly. He had been staring at her blankly since she had appeared on the parking lot. He was expelling thick grey smoke and only then Rachel realized he was smoking.

“Can I?” she asked, pointing toward the cigarette he was holding. He handed it to her and she drew a quick puff, handing it back to him. She hadn’t smoked ever because of her voice, but she just had felt an unbelievable urge to do so at that moment.

“Can you believe them?” Puck asked, in a low, resentful tone “they all used to whisper behind her back. She died and then, suddenly, everyone loved her?”.

Rachel quietly stared at him, knowing that she had been wrong those two months. She wasn’t alone in the world. There was someone that really understood what she had been going through, because there was someone that had loved Quinn as much as she had. And that person was standing just before her, looking as angry and tired and messed up as she felt.

“Where have you been?” Rachel believed that was the first sentence she had uttered that night.

“Around” he answered, vaguely. Breaking things, getting into fights, being arrested; he didn’t say.

“How have you been?” Rachel asked, her chocolate soft eyes fixed on his face.

“I think you know exactly how I feel” Puck replied. He threw the cigarette to the ground, pressing his shoe over it, avoiding Rachel’s gaze “they don’t even fucking let me see her”.

Rachel bit her lower lip. She knew that they hadn’t, because it had been the only time she had stepped out of her house voluntary and they had denied that to her as well. She had learned from her dads that they had named her Faith Fabray, against Puck’s will of naming her Spencer, which was the name Quinn always had called her.

“We have to do something about it” it was Puck who spoke it, but Rachel was thinking it too.

“I know”.




How is that for a start?

I just wanted to warn you what’s this story is going to be like. Spencer will disappear and there will be an investigation. Rachel may or may not be involved with the disappearing of the baby.

Love should never be that hard - Part 10

Love should never be that hard
Author: girlnamedclark
Rating: PG for the first chapters, eventual PG-13 and NC-17
Length: 43227~the entire thing
Spoilers: not really. mainly AU
Summary: “…We first met long before the society’s ways separated us – first grade. At that time, there were no popular kids’ groups, or anything. I was just Rachel and she was just Quinn…”  it’s high school and Rachel and Quinn are best friends, even though mainly outside high school, seeing that they each have their circle of friends.

A/N: Rachel’s POV only in the first chapter/prologue. Quinn’s POV only in the last chapter/epilogue.

A/N2: I incorporated the episodes on my multi-chaptered fic titled Cheaters in this fic, because it fitted. So I apologize anyone who has read the fic.


 Part 10

For more that Rachel tried to shake it off, she couldn’t stop the despairing feeling that a disaster had just occurred.

Sitting outside of the principal’s office Rachel stared worriedly at Quinn. The blonde was on the couch opposite to the one Rachel was sitting, leaning forwards, her face covered by her hands. Rachel felt the urge to reach for her, try to calm her down. But she knew that – in that situation – that wouldn’t be the best thing to do.

Their parents were inside the Principal’s office with the principal and Coach Sylvester and Rachel morbidly wondered how would the principal explain their parents what they had been caught doing. It wasn’t a usual matter – it wasn’t like he had called them because their daughters had been skipping classes. Because the principal had surely already a fixed speech for the parents of skippers. And Rachel knew that even what they had been caught doing was easier to explain if one of them was a guy. It was a very sensitive matter, and she understood why the principal was taking his time.

It was extremely stressing, though, being outside the room without knowing what was happening.

Rachel bit her lip. This was too terrible.

“Quinn…” she mumbled, weakly. The blonde didn’t even look up.

The time dragged horribly. Their parents were still inside. Maybe punishment was being discussed.

Punishment, Rachel hadn’t even thought about that. What would they do to them? Would they expel them?

At that moment, Rachel almost jumped, startled, by the sudden opening of door – the one she had been staring for the bigger half of her time there – when a tall, distinct man stormed out of the office. Rachel recognised him by being Mr Fabray. He didn’t even stop on his way out.

Quinn had jumped to his feet and her red eyes were pleading towards him, but he didn’t even look at her. Mrs Fabray came after her husband, more contained.

“Mother” Quinn cried, her voice failing in despair.

“To the car. Now” Mrs Fabray replied, her tone transpiring anger, frustration, disgust.

Quinn complied, tears starting to fall from her eyes.

“Quinn…” Rachel tried, feeling her eyes watering too. It was useless; Quinn was already leaving the office, her mother behind her. The woman stopped, at the door, looking back.

Rachel was used to Mrs Fabray looking at her as if she was something unpleasant as a headache. But she had never been looked like she was something really disgusting on her shoe. Mrs Fabray then left the room, without feeling the need to say anything else.

Rachel was about to follow them, she wanted to talk with Quinn, she wanted to tell her everything was going to be alright despite of what could happen, but then she felt a warm hand on her shoulder, stopping her. She had already forgotten that her dads were there too.

Her dad made her stop and turn around.

“Daddy…” she cried, the tears now falling without any hold.

Her dads were probably surprised by seeing her in such a state, because they decided to hold their reprehensions just for now. One of her  fathers hugged her, fondly, and the other brushed his hair out of her face, and offered a tissue.

“Sweetie, it’s going to be fine” Roger said.

“But I love her” Rachel cried, the sobs almost making her words incomprehensible.


On the days that followed that incident, Rachel got a lot of “The Speeches”. It was obvious that her dads had planned them carefully, due to her current vulnerability, and had organised them by importance and urgency.

First, right on the day after “the incident”, her parents forced her out of her bedroom – where she had been living by her own choice – sat her down on the living room – the familiar environment of the room was perfect for a intervention/speech – and told her that, whomever she turned out to be, whomever she loved, or whatever she did, they would always love her, support her and be there for her. Rachel found some peace from that talk – but only barely, having in count everything that was going on.

Secondly, it was necessary to not let that “incident” go unpunished – her dads gave her another day and then expressed their disappointment about what she had done – not about with whom she had done it – but, especially, where. It was no laugher matter; their luck was that they had been caught in an early stage – the later that they had been caught, the punishment would be bigger, including actually being brought to the Sheriff Department.

And then, finally, after giving her a few more days to calm herself down, they had the original and ageless “the talk”.  Sex. The responsibility and the moral of it. It was hard – and awkward – for Rachel to tell them that “that ship had sailed”, but she assured them that it was nothing for them to worry about – it had been responsible and consensual and with one person only. She didn’t tell them who, and they didn’t ask. 

They were lucky to have received as punishment only an order of three days of suspension. It was obvious for Rachel that Quinn’s parents had tried to muffle the accident as much as possible – which turned out to be completely. As far as Rachel knew, only her and Quinn, their parents, the principal and Ms Sylvester knew about what had happened. The methods used by the Fabray’s were unknown to her, but it wasn’t difficult to guess. What the Fabray’s lacked in morals, they compensated with money. And – how ever much they had spent – it had been effective; they wouldn’t even have it registered in their records.  

But Rachel’s angst didn’t even pass by her days of suspension. She could only think about one thing; worry about one thing; it was consuming her, destroying her, breaking her apart that she couldn’t see Quinn.

She tried. Oh, she did. The texts not answered, the phone calls directed to voicemail, the visits – even despite her own dads requested her to stay away from the Fabray’s, at least for know – to their house, only to be blocked by the maid, Consuelo, that had always been so nice to her. And what was breaking her the most wasn’t that she wasn’t allowed to see Quinn – it was that Quinn didn’t seem like she wanted to see her.

Rachel ignored her egoistic need of being with Quinn and focused on her worries about how the blonde was. Quinn had warned her, many, many times before, that her parents were nothing like Rachel’s. It almost physically hurt Rachel that the entire situation was being so easy to her – and she couldn’t even start to imagine how Quinn’s parents were reacting to everything. She felt an irrational and impossible urge to trade places with Quinn – because she felt like she could handle the pressure and the blonde couldn’t. She wanted Quinn to have the good parents – the understanding and supporting ones – and Rachel living in hell with the bigoted and intolerant ones.

The only thing that kept Rachel going on was the thought that eventually – when their punishment ended – they would both return – stating that they had a bad case of flu - to school and there Quinn couldn’t avoid her.

But, when Rachel did, Quinn was nowhere to be found. Rachel overheard some cheerleaders talking about Quinn’s absence, but they knew as much about it as Rachel knew – no, they knew even less.

But Quinn’s parents couldn’t hold her prisoner for much longer. She eventually had to come back to school – but she didn’t.


Rachel had never faced depression. Normally, people know some things that serve as anti-depressive to them, but Rachel had never felt the need of something to pick her up. So she had to discover them.

It wasn’t like watching old movies – especially musicals – made her happy. No, they actually made her mellow and without energy, but she couldn’t make herself want to do anything else. So, straight from school she would come home. She would sit in the living room couch, covering herself with a blanket – even though it was the middle of spring and, therefore, not really cold – and she would watch movies. She would eventually fall asleep in that place, until her dads arrived home, and gently woke her up and made her climb the stairs to her bedroom where she would usually lay there – sleepless because of the hours she had already slept – just trying not to think, but thinking.

Her dads started worrying because they didn’t hear her sing. Not along with the music in her sound system, not around the house, not ever.

They made her go see a therapist – only for one visit. They wanted her to find out if talking about it made her feel better. It didn’t. Specially, because she didn’t.

It was on one of Rachel’s typical afternoons after school – in living room, covered in a blanket, watching Casa Blanca (because she had gone out of old musicals to watch) – that she finally saw her.

The noise of the car passing by Rachel’s house meant little to her – in the suburbs people went by in their cars constantly – but something made Rachel casually glare through the window of the living room. Maybe she thought it was suspicious that a car was pulling over right in front of her lawn – this soon in the day; her dads didn’t arrive home until sunset – maybe she just felt it.

Either way, she did look through the glass and she spotted the stunning blonde coming out of her car – a red one, Rachel didn’t recognise. Her heart felt liked it had stopped beating and it was beating fast at the same time. Immediately she was on her feet, blanket on the floor, running towards the door. When she reached the front porch of the house, Quinn had just stepped on the lawn.

Without even thinking – without having time to think about what Quinn was doing there, or how mad she was at Quinn for leaving her in the angst she had been – she ran and she hugged Quinn close, her hands around her neck. For a moment, the simple scent of Quinn calmed her. That, until she noticed the blonde wasn’t hugging her back.

Quinn didn’t push her away. She waited until Rachel let her go. She was using all her strength to keep her tears from falling – thing that wasn’t easy, seeing that she had been crying the entire day in anticipation of that moment.

When Rachel finally let her go, stepping back, she noticed the blonde’s red eyes. She had the terrible feeling of an eminent disaster, but she tried to push that aside, for now.

“Quinn” she cried, her voice shaking, reaching for her blond hair, tugging a lock around Quinn’s hear.

“Rachel...” Quinn’s voice was weak, almost begging. She wasn’t looking at Rachel; she couldn’t.

“I called you. So many times” Rachel started, shaking her head, as if she was desperate to let Quinn know that she hadn’t gave up on her “I went to your house. I tried everything…”

Quinn forced herself to swallow dryly, feeling a huge lump on her throat. She shook her head slowly “I shouldn’t be here. My parents don’t know…”.

Rachel’s eyes – which were closely staring at Quinn’s face and trying to find her eyes (which were still fixed on the floor) – naturally travelled to the car behind Quinn. She couldn’t see inside, but she knew someone was on the wheel.

“Brad brought me” Quinn explained “he’s been…” she shook her head, again, without having a proper word to continue “he has been the only supportive person”:

“How are you?” Rachel asked, immediately. She got Quinn to look up – as if surprised about the question – only to look back down “Quinn…” Rachel mumbled, her tears watering her eyes. On opposite to Quinn, Rachel wasn’t holding them.

Quinn finally looked up and held her gaze. Her soft – but definitely sorrowful – hazel eyes inspected Rachel’s despair, and she had to gasp to keep her sobs from coming out. The entire strength she was using to keep the tears from falling was resulting in her vision started to get fogged “I’m leaving” she decided to just say it.

“What? Where?!”.

“I’m going to my uncles’ house” Quinn said.

Rachel looked somewhere else, while she wiped her tears with her hand “when are you coming back?”.

Quinn stared at her, sadly “Rachel… I’m moving with my uncles. I’m going to live with them”.

“What?!” Rachel didn’t even care that they were in the middle of the street, she couldn’t held her desperation, her revolt “where?”.

“It doesn’t matter. Rachel…” Quinn tried, but Rachel cut her, her tone demanding.


Quinn looked down, pursing her lips together. The tears were no longer obeying her and were now soaking her face “San Francisco” she mumbled, weakly.

San Francisco?!” Rachel repeated, incredulously, because she couldn’t think of anywhere that was farther away.

Quinn didn’t answer. She was now crying uncontrollably.

Rachel sniffled, trying to control herself “why?”.

“Rachel…” once again, Quinn tried.

“Why?!” and again, Rachel demanded to know. There were many times to roll over and to give in. That wasn’t one.

“My parents…” Quinn’s voice was squeaky, sobs interrupting her.

“Did they kick you out?!” Rachel cried, frowning horrified.

“No” Quinn shook her head “they just don’t want me… here”.

“You don’t have to go” Rachel’s voice was more pleading than anything else “you can stay. You can live with us. I swear my dads would let you stay with us, they have been very supportive…”.

“No” Quinn vehemently shook her head “Rachel, that’s not how it works. Please…”.

Rachel stared at her, not believing that Quinn was just going to give up on them. She bit her lip, trying to hold out all the anger and frustration and sadness she was feeling, but it resulted in more tears.

“I can visit you” Rachel said, quietly, even though San Francisco was on the other side of the country.

Quinn broke down “Rachel, please I beg you. Don’t make this any harder than already it is…” her voice was so broke, so weak, so pleading, so uncontrolled that it was hard to understand what she was saying “you have no idea what I’ve been through…”

“What about me?!” Rachel yelled, suddenly furious, now that no reasoning had worked “don’t I matter?!”.

“Rachel, please….” Quinn limited herself to say, dropping her eyes to the floor.

“Don’t fucking patronise me!” Rachel yelled back “I can’t believe that you are going to give up. I can’t believe that you aren’t even going to try to work something out. We could work something out… we have to… how can I-how can I live without you being here?” the despair and sadness was overcoming the anger.

“Please don’t say that, please!” Quinn shook her head, unable to see from the water that ran from her eyes.

“That’s all you can do? Plead? Fuck, Quinn!” the anger was taking over again. At that moment, there was a knock on the cars window, from inside. Quinn immediately looked back. It was obvious it was a sign to leave.

She looked back to Rachel, who wasn’t looking at her “I have to go” Quinn mumbled, her voice shaky.

Rachel didn’t answer, still not looking at her.

“I really wish…” Quinn started.

“Don’t bother” Rachel cried, using every last bit of control not to fall to her knees and beg for Quinn not to leave; not to leave her.

She didn’t look up – not even when she heard the car’s door close, not even when she heard the car being turned back on, not even when she heard the car leave. She knew that if she did, that would be the last time she would see Quinn Fabray.




As I left the house where I had grown up – the important stuff I owned packed in three large suitcases while other things that didn’t made the cut (or things that I didn’t want to bring with me because the sight of them brought too many painful memories) stayed behind, who knows for how long – there were only two things in my mind. And no, it wasn’t the fact that I was moving away – really away – to a city where I knew nobody or the fact that I hadn’t even had the chance to talk to the people I know and explain why I was leaving.

The first thing it was Rachel, and the second thing was that I had to find out a way to stop thinking about her.

Because the simple memory of her face, of her voice, of smile, it was too painful, too unbearable. I wasn’t going to be able to live through it, unless I found a way to forget her.

The tears were soaking my cheeks, my blouse; my eyes were soaring from all the crying. It seemed like it had been the only thing I’ve been doing the last days. It was the only thing I remembered doing, anyway. Except for meeting Rachel to tell her that I was going away. There I go again.

My father was in the driver’s seat of the car. He was the one driving me to the airport. My mother didn’t even bother coming with us at all – she said goodbye to me back at home - because driving all the way to the airport just to drop her only child who was going to live somewhere else without her would possibly stop her from making it to her Pilate’s class.

Since Rachel stubbornly didn’t leave my mind, I tried to focus on the good things, on what wasn’t sad. I tried to think about the good times we spent together – but even though they were good, they still made me sad. Sadder. I was sobbing, and my father didn’t even bother to look back, make sure I was alright. I was expecting anything else? Not really.

The ride to the airport seemed to take forever – I closed my eyes during the entire ride (since my father unwisely – or simply not caring - passed through her house, instead of going around) because I was feeling utterly sick.

The last thing my father said, before I entered the boarding zone, was “For God’s sake, Quinn, stop crying. They’ll think I’m forcing you into doing this”. Which he was, obviously, he just didn’t want people to know so. I bit the insides of my cheeks forcing my tears to stop. It wasn’t easy, and it made my head hurt, but I eventually did.

So when I finally got inside the plane, I looked like I just had bad allergies, in opposite to being crying uncontrollably. Since I’m under aged, a nice steward took responsibility for me – guided me to my sit, by the window in case I wanted to see… the clouds, I guess?; asked me if I wanted anything. Once I assured him that I was fine, he left me alone, which was just what I wanted.

I leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes again. I sighed, trying to relax. When I sniffled, I opened my eyes again and searched, inside my bag, for something to wipe my tears on. My fingers reached something napkin-like and only when I got it out of my purse I understood what it really was. The words “Quinn Fabray owes you one” were written across it. Rachel had given me back that napkin, stating that she knew I would always be there for her, that she didn’t need a napkin for that.

Before I could stop myself, my face was falling on my hands, and the tears sliding down my cheeks.

 “Ra-a-ch-el...” I sobbed.

Love should never be that hard - Part 9

Title: Love should never be that hard
Author: girlnamedclark
Rating: PG for the first chapters, eventual PG-13 and NC-17
Length: 43227~the entire thing
Spoilers: not really. mainly AU
Summary: “…We first met long before the society’s ways separated us – first grade. At that time, there were no popular kids’ groups, or anything. I was just Rachel and she was just Quinn…”  it’s high school and Rachel and Quinn are best friends, even though mainly outside high school, seeing that they each have their circle of friends.

A/N: Rachel’s POV only in the first chapter/prologue. Quinn’s POV only in the last chapter/epilogue.

A/N2: I incorporated the episodes on my multi-chaptered fic titled Cheaters in this fic, because it fitted. So I apologize anyone who has read the fic.


 Part 9

As one more man walked inside the pavilion, Rachel was going crazy. Is it him? How unthoughtful it was of Mr Schue to not give her a proper physical description of Eric Rogers.

The nerves were consuming her. This was it. This was her chance. She almost wished she hadn’t been told about Eric Rogers at all – she wouldn’t be as nervous, then – but on the other side she wouldn’t have rehearsed it to exhaustion if he hadn’t.

She had the lyrics to “Linger” by The Cranberries written in her hand – even thought that was one of her favourite songs ever and she knew the them as well as she knew the back of her hand, because she had been having a recurring dream of her completely drawing blank on stage. Needless to say, she had been waking up in utter panic – but now the precise black words were transforming into a big blur. She really had to calm down.

Looking around the room, she couldn’t spot Quinn and that was stressing her out even more. The girl had told her she would arrive about twenty minutes ago, and she was obviously still not there.

Mercedes, Kurt and Tina, they were coming at the precise time the party would start, so Rachel wasn’t expecting them for at least another half an hour.

Rachel forced herself to breathe in, relax. She was being just a little bit successful when she felt a hand on her shoulder. At first her heart lightened up with the image of a stunning blonde standing there, but then that idea was quickly put aside. The hand didn’t feel like Quinn’s, it wasn’t as soft or warm at all.

She turned around and she was now facing deep dark, with a hint of worry, but with the mask of indifference.
“Finn” she let his name out, surprised that he was finally approaching her, after three weeks of polite nodding around school.

“Hi” he said, simply.

“You came” Rachel noticed, dumbly. Every student in McKinley was coming – parties were always welcome.
“Yes” Finn nodded, short on words. For a moment, he looked at her, from hair to toes “how are you?”.

“I’m fine” Rachel answered, shrugging. What one could answer to that question but that? “what about you?”.

“No, I’m really asking how you are feeling right now. You’re going to perform, right?”.

“Oh. Yes” Rachel answered “I’m…” she looked for a better word. That was awkward “fine. Nervous”.

He nodded “I heard that… some type of scout was coming just to hear you. Is that true?”

“Yeah” Rachel answered, smiling, a little breathless “some type of scout”.

“That’s really great” he answered.

Rachel felt immensely bad. She didn’t want that polite tension between them. She wanted them to tease each other, be comfortable around each other again. But there was nothing she could do.

“I guess so” she answered, simply, looking down.

“Look, Rachel” Finn said, as if he was finally getting to the subject he wanted to get “I just wanted you to know that… I’m cheering for you. I don’t want you to think that I hold grudge or anything… I really want you to be happy and everything…” he couldn’t look her straight in the eyes so he stared at his shoes, slightly blushing “and resuming everything…” he sighed “I wanted to wish you good luck”.

“Thanks Finn” Rachel replied, sweetly “that really means a lot to me”.

Finn nodded. Rachel wanted to hug him, and she was about to lean and do it when a too familiar voice sounded, and she saw Quinn approaching them, by Finn’s back, apparently not even realizing the guy was there “there you are!” she cried, excitedly “I’m so sorry, but I have a really good excuse for being late!”.

Finn straightened himself up and gave Rachel a last look and wished her good luck, before leaving. That was enough to make Quinn finally notice in him. She stared at his back – while he left – with a suspicious and not very warm expression “what did he want?”.

“Not much” Rachel answered “am I glad you finally arrived!” she said, intertwining her fingers with Quinn’s and pulling her closer. That was a pretty intimate gesture, but neither of the girls thought about it or the fact that there were people surrounding them.

“I thought you would be mad at me for being late”.

“I’ll be mad at you after I perform. Now I’m just relieved you finally arrived” Rachel answered, bluntly.

Quinn smiled, fondly, leaning her head to the side “are you nervous?”.

“Am I nervous?!” Rachel laughed at that question.

“Your palms are sweaty too” Quinn noticed, looking down and catching a glimpse of Rachel’s left hand. She lifted the hand, with blurry black paint inquiring.

“The lyrics” Rachel explained apologetically.

Quinn laughed, letting her hand down “you’re going to do fine. I promise” she told Rachel. Rachel was slightly comforted by those words. But only slightly.

Quinn looked around, as too make sure no one was too close. Then she leaned down and slightly brushed her lips against Rachel’s ear, whispering to her “and you look pretty hot too”.

Rachel was, again, slightly comforted by that. She was wearing a strong blue dress she had bought for her birthday dinner the year before.

“Rachel?” it was Brandon Sleeves, the host for the evening, and also the student’s council’s president “I think it’s better if you get backstage. We are uniting all the performers so that we can explain how everything is going to go down tonight”.

Rachel was already about to leave, following Brandon’s lead, when Quinn pulled her wrist, just to whisper some last words “I love you”.


Rachel was conscious that “Linger” wasn’t the greatest song to show her voice entirely. The original song had very low registers in the melody – something that Rachel could do very well – but she wanted to show how she reached the high notes as well. So Rachel worked on a version of herself of the song. She tried to make it more suitable for her range – which, without presumption of her side, was really big – and, at the same time, make it possible to follow – not to change the melody to much so that people wouldn’t recognise the song. She was confident that she had managed to do that, but as the performance got closer, her insecurities got amplified by the nerves.

The guys from the band which was playing were very nice to her backstage. They made her sing along with the acoustic guitar and – very impressed – asked her if she would like to enter on a project with them – maybe just a concert or even composing a song together.

And then the time came. As her name was announced, Rachel felt all the air in her lungs disappear. Which was… pretty bad, seeing that she was probably going to need air to sing.

Johnny, the lead singer, gave her a little squeeze, before pushing her towards the stage.

The lights on the room were out, there were only some headlights pointing to the stage, pointing to Rachel. Rachel vaguely heard the cheers of some people, encouraging her, but at that moment, everything outside her body, seemed like plain background to her. She could hear her heart racing, clearly.

Once standing before the mike, Rachel looked through the crowd. She first intended to spot a manager-looking guy, but her eyes stopped at Quinn, looking at her. She didn’t even seem slightly nervous or afraid for her. She was completely confident that Rachel was going to tear the roof off.

And that was all Rachel needed to gain back her ability to breathe. She had a job to do.

More confidently, she gave the signal to the DJ to start the music. And then, closing her eyes through out the first notes, she concentrated herself. When the cue for her to start singing was getting close, Rachel re-opened her eyes. And then she experienced the most overpowering of the experiences.


When she stepped back backstage, Rachel was numb. For a moment, she couldn’t remember what she had done. And then she felt herself being hugged, and patted in the back. The band was all over her, telling how great she had been, and congratulating her. She could barely breathe – not because of the enthusiasm - but because of the lack of space between the guys’ bodies. And then the host announced their bands name and, in a heartbeat; they were gone, already on the stage.

Rachel was left alone to analyze what she had just done. But then she was suddenly embraced by someone – who pierced inside backstage so quickly Rachel couldn’t even see her face – and she recognised Quinn’s scent, as the blonde squeezed her.

“You were so amazing!” Quinn cried, as she pulled away, to look at Rachel’s eyes. Rachel could see her hazel eyes shinning – she couldn’t fake that type of excitement and happiness.

“You think?” Rachel asked, biting her lip.

“Oh, Rachel, you really have no idea! Everyone was… flabbergasted. I mean, we all knew you could sing, but that was just… so much more!”.

“Did you see him?”

“Who?” Quinn asked, confusedly.
“Eric Rogers”.

“Rach, I don’t know how Eric Rogers looks like” Quinn said, slightly sardonically.

“I know, but did you see anyone that looked like they might be a manager?”.

“I have no idea” Quinn said, shaking her head, with a big smile on her perfect lips. Rachel seemed a little bummed “but, look, if he was here and he listened to what we just listened to, I’m positively sure that he’s going to feel completely in the urge of grabbing you before some more important manager does”.

Rachel smiled back, because Quinn’s opinion meant everything to her. Only then something hit her “how did you came inside here?”.

Quinn shrugged, half embarrassedly, half amusedly “I flirted with the guy at the entrance”.

Rachel shook her head, but sweetly “I was going out to meet you, anyway, you didn’t have to give to the trouble just to congratulate me”.

Quinn’s smile change from joyful to mysterious. She looked around the room – to make sure nobody was there – before saying, in a lower tone “well, that wasn’t all I was planning…”.

Rachel could only stare at her confusedly, before the blonde started dragging her towards the back door of the backstage.

Rachel didn’t know where Quinn was heading. Personally, it made her nervous to walk into such a shadowed place as deep inside the backstage room. It reminded her of the “Phantom of the Opera”. Rachel had watched that musical when she was only about 8 years old and still to this day she couldn’t help but to be frightened by it.

But Quinn seemed to know exactly where she was heading. She pushed the door and suddenly they were in a darker – for Rachel’s misery – hall, with squeaking old wooden floor, it was just too bizarre. Quinn dragged her along, until they reached the door at the end of the hallway.

Rachel was still a little confused, as she was shoved inside the dark room – it seemed like some kind of closet  - there were wooden tables, shelves, cheerleading pompons (the mystery about how Quinn knew about that room was discovered) and some card boxes piled up on the corners. The realization of what was happening only hit her when Quinn shut the door behind her and turned to Rachel – those eyes with that look. Rachel knew too well what it meant.

“Quinn…” Rachel pleaded, but she couldn’t help but to sound slightly amused.

Quinn was approaching her, slowly “you looked so hot up there singing” she mumbled, a naughty smile on her face, as she cornered Rachel against one of the tables.
“This is not a good idea” Rachel warned, but the proximity of Quinn felt to good to stop that from happening “anyone can…”.

Shhhh, Berry, you worry too much” Quinn mumbled, and then muffled Rachel’s protests by kissing her. When Quinn slid her lips to Rachel’s neck, the brunette saw another opportunity to talk some sense inside her.

“We really don’t have to do this here. I mean, my house is chronically empty. We can go there. All the time”.

Quinn wasn’t backing out, she sucked that spot in Rachel’s neck that she knew always succeeded in making her go crazy and – therefore – not able to resist. She was successful, as the brunette held a moan, biting her own lip and closing her eyes.

Using her height advantage, Quinn urged Rachel to sit on the table. She loved how the brunette was smaller than her and that way Quinn could hold her close and really involve her with her arms.

Rachel opened her legs so that Quinn could set herself between them, leaned against the table. Quinn’s hand slid north on Rachel’s leg, under the dress. The excitement building in the two girls was overwhelming, undeniable. And that was why they were becoming a kind of addiction to each other. When they were together, the entire world faded away. Their problems didn’t exist as long as they were with each other. The pressure, the nerves, the unhappiness, they all vanished with the simple feeling of proximity from the other’s body.

And that was how they knew they were falling deeper and deeper in love.


The “passion pit” was empty except for them, sitting in Quinn’s car. The  night was peaceful, nostalgic.

They had come in Quinn’s car – a shiny Volkswagen Beetle convertible – and they rolled the hood down when they parked on the car.

Rachel leaned her seat down, to be able to look at the stars comfortably. Quinn remained sitting, but with her head leaned back in the seat, thoughtfully.

The moon was close to the horizon but it was huge that night. Some might say it was a beautiful sight; Quinn found it unnerving, for some reason.

Rachel was trying to remember the little astronomy that she had known. She tried to look for constellations, but the stars didn’t seem organised – they seemed like drops of bright paint over a plain dark fabric. Biting her lip, she tried instead to search for drawings with them. She found out she didn’t have much visual imagination, because the dark fabric with drops of bright paint was the only thing she could remember.

“Uh” Quinn finally said, pulling a face.

Rachel raised her head, to look at the blonde worriedly “what?”.

“I completely forgot about my Social Studies paper. I should have already started it” she answered, shaking her head disapprovingly.

“That’s what you’re thinking about in this lovely night?” Rachel asked, amused. How could one be staring at the beautiful sky and think about school?

Quinn shrugged. Rachel stared at her for one more moment, before laying her head back on the seat and give her attention to the sky. She felt like she hadn’t done that enough in her life, and, for some reason, that thought was making her restless. She decided that – as soon as she had time – she would study astronomy so that she could look at the sky at night and at least know… what she was looking at.

“I don’t know anything about stars” Rachel mumbled, more to herself than to anyone else, frustrated.

Quinn sighed, as if making herself stop thinking about the paper for school, and then looked up, joining Rachel in the observation.

“Can you see it?” Quinn asks, her finger pointing to the sky. Rachel struggles in following her gaze.


“See where I’m pointing at. Do you see those brighter stars? You see four disposed almost in a rectangle. And then those in the middle, together?” Quinn asked, patiently.

“Yes!” Rachel answered, excited to be seeing something.

“That’s Orion” Quinn answered, resting her arm in the seat.

“Wow” Rachel commented, trying to not take her eyes off the constellation, because she feared she would lose it.

“It’s called Orion because it supposedly takes the shape of a warrior named Orion” Quinn continued, calmly.

“I don’t see it” Rachel mumbled, sadly.

“Well, the two bottom stars of the rectangle are his feet. Then the top one from the left side it’s the tip of his sword. The one on the right it’s his shield”.

“Oh” Rachel commented. It didn’t really look like a warrior, as she expected. But with the right touch of imagination…

“Can you see where his left shoulder would be? A slightly red star?” Quinn asked, softly.

“Hum hum”.

“That star is named Betelgeuse”.

“Beetle juice?” Rachel giggled.
“Betelgeuse” Quinn repeated, smiling to the sky.

“What else?” Rachel asks, expectantly, loving everything she’s learning.

“His right foot it’s the star named Rigel. It’s one of the brightest stars in the sky. And there” Quinn pointed somewhere else, to another drawing of brighter stars “the plough. And then there’s the Ursa Minor, which is how people can find north just by looking at the stars. That’s Polaris, the North Star”.

“Wow” Rachel exclaimed, again “who knew that Quinn Fabray knew all this?”.

Quinn shrugged “I know a little. When I was smaller my dad and I used to go to the balcony at night and he thought me some things about the stars and the Universe…”.

Rachel listened in silence. It was probably the first time that she had heard Quinn tell her something pleasant about her father.

“… that would upset my mother. Firstly I should have been in bed already and secondly she said that my father shouldn’t be filling my head with those kind of things – I should be thinking about something else. I guess she just supposed I would want to be like her: marry to a rich guy and just worry about designer clothes and the latest gossip”.

“What do you want to do?” Rachel asked, then.

Quinn sighed “I don’t know. I do know I want to do something – I was not built to spend the entire day in spas and shopping. I want to work. I really don’t want to be supported by my parents for much longer”.

“I like that about you” Rachel stated, vaguely.

Quinn bit her lip, thoughtfully “what about you?”.

“Me?” Rachel asked, shyly.

“Yes. Where do you want to go after high school?”.

“Well…” Rachel started, but then stopped herself.

“Say what you want to say” Quinn told her, leaning her head to the side.

“I’m not sure where. I know I want to do something artistic. Maybe try Julliard. I know, I’m dreaming out loud…” Rachel smiled, embarrassedly.

“I don’t think so” Quinn said, honestly “I think you might have a shot at it”.

“I guess my dream life would be… in the entertainment industry. Maybe acting, definitely singing… maybe involved in the production of music…”.

“That sounds like you…” Quinn commented, vaguely. She seemed like she was going to say something else, but she stopped before the words coming out.

Rachel looked at her, curiously “what?”.

“What about us?” Quinn finally asked.

“After high school?” Rachel asked.

“Yeah. I think… we shouldn’t be apart”.

“I don’t want to be apart from you…” Rachel mumbled, frowning.

“But Juilliard is… New York”.

“Quinn, I was just dreaming out loud” Rachel laughed “Juilliard is extremely difficult to be accepted to. Look at me, I don’t have any experience, any curriculum… I don’t even know if I’m really applying to it”.

“I think you should. It’s a great opportunity” Quinn said.

“Yeah, but its nearly impossible to get in” Rachel murmured, pursing her lips together.

“Either way, you should try it”.

Rachel shrugged, uncertain.

“But, resuming to my point, I think we should try to… synchronise some of our choices”.

“I agree” Rachel said, lightly.

“I could look at some Universities in New York… just for the case…”

“Quinn” Rachel said, amusedly “your parents wouldn’t let you go that far. Plus, I really don’t think I’m going to New York”.

“Well, it never hurts to just look” Quinn said, slightly annoyed.

Rachel laughed, sweetly “I think we should concentrate in Universities in the state”.

“We’ll do that to. I’m just saying, for the eventuality…”

“Okay, I understand, Quinn. I love that you have that much faith in me, I guess”.

“What about if you don’t go to college?” Quinn asked.

“Why wouldn’t I go to college?” Rachel was confused.

“I don’t know. Some opportunity could appear. You haven’t met with Eric Rogers yet, have you?”.


“There you go” Quinn said, looking back to the sky “we don’t know what that will lead”.

Rachel leaned back, absent minded. Where could that lead to? The idea of Eric Rogers having plans for her was overwhelming but it was mortifying thinking about leaving her family, leaving Quinn, leaving her friends and everything she was used to in her life.


Damn, Quinn thought to herself, while brushing a lock of her blond hair out of her forehead, and tugged it around her ear, squinting her eyes against the sun, we really need to pick it up if we want to win this game.

The McKinley High football team had never been particularly good; but their performance these last two weeks had been just shameful for the school.

The cheerleaders were faithlessly spread on the lateral line of the football field – they had given up on the cheers and jumps; some were leaning against the bleaches while other were shamelessly just sitting on the grass, with no enthusiasm or concentration towards the game.

Quinn, though she wasn’t at all convinced her team could turn the score around, as the head-cheerleader, she remained standing, hand on her hip, concentrated on the game. And then the break bell sounded and all the players dragged themselves off field. She stood there to give them a little cheer up – a slight wink from Quinn Fabray was enough to give some of them the strength to ran through the entire field, even thought their legs weren’t so inclined to do it – but then, when she turned back to the bleaches, a familiar pair of dark, perspicacious, bright eyes stood out from the crowd. This girl didn’t seem to have been paying attention at the game at all – her attention was exclusively focused on the blond head-cheerleader down at the field.

Their gazes met, and the brunette smiled, almost like she owned a private joke that no one else knew, but the blonde, who, blushing slightly, forced her eyes down to the floor, before looking up again. 

The little head nod Rachel gave would be almost imperceptible to anyone else who might be watching, but it was clear as crystal to Quinn. Rachel stood up and left the bleaches.

Quinn drank a sip of her water, before herself making her way out of the field. But not before Brittany noticed “Q, where you’re going?”.

“Bathroom. I’ll be back” Quinn didn’t have to think a lot to answer untruthfully – by now she had learned how to be a quick-thinker on the lies she used to cover up her frequent absences.

Rachel was nowhere to be seen, but the blonde didn’t need to follow her to know where she was heading. She got inside of the school building again, certainly walking through the endless sequence of halls, until she reached the pavilion door. She pushed it open and she walked across the room until she reached the stage. She did this trajectory so naturally, because she had been doing it every other class break, and her feet now moved by their own, without pausing in hesitance, and without she feeling the need to look around to really make sure no one was watching.

She climbed to the stage and then disappeared through the backstage, walking through the darkened halls, until there were no more halls, just a wood door.

Quinn’s pale fingers involved the door-knob, and the door opened.

The room was dark – Rachel had only lighten up one of the lights– but it was enough for Quinn to see how Rachel was sitting on a table, waiting for her.

“Hey” Rachel had that provocative smile she had been wearing the last week, and it made Quinn so… hot.

Quinn didn’t answer, already approaching Rachel, and forcing her to stand up “I only have five minutes” Quinn whispered, has her hand slid down Rachel’s soft, warm arm, only to then intertwine her fingers with Rachel’s.

“The break is ten minutes long” Rachel frowned, suspiciously.

“Yes, but I’m telling you I only have five because I know how you like to linger, and that gives us five extra minutes to linger, after my deadline”.

“You are so smart” Rachel smiled, her face so close to Quinn’s that the blond could feel her breath on chin – due to the height difference.

“Hum hum” Quinn closed in the gab between them, brushing her lips against Rachel’s. Rachel’s hands naturally started playing with the end of Quinn’s cheerleading top and then, she softly slid one of them bellow it, caressing Quinn’s abs. The blonde gasped, stopping her hand.

“What?” Rachel looked worriedly at Quinn.

“Sun burn” Quinn replied, apologetically. She looked down and, carefully slowly, she raised her top, so that Rachel could take a look at the enflamed skin.

“Does it burn?” Rachel asked, naturally.

Quinn looked up, nodding “it hurts, Rach”.

Rachel bit her lower lip, her fingers carefully sliding on the sensible skin “I’ll be gentle”. Quinn didn’t complain, as they’re tongues battled, with the despairing feeling that five minutes was just too little to cure their desires for each other. Before, the school days without being with each other were torturing, but since they had found out that way to be together, just a simple class would be torturing for them.

“Are we meeting after school?” Quinn asked, with a gasp, as Rachel trailed her tongue on the bare exposed skin of her neck.

Rachel suddenly stopped, straightening her head, to look at Quinn’s hazel eyes “I can’t” she mumbled.

Quinn replied with an annoyed, mad, look “why not?”.

“Remember that guy Eric Rogers?” Rachel hurried to explain.

“The manager?” Quinn answered, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, he wants to meet with me after school to talk about my performance” Rachel couldn’t stop the nerves from transpiring. She still didn’t know what the manager had thought about her, because he had left before she could meet him – he was a busy man.

“You’re meeting him?” Quinn sounded annoyed and incredulous.

“Yeah” Rachel seemed confused about Quinn not having already understood that part.

“Rachel, you’re not going off to meet a strange grown man by yourself” Quinn lectured, stepping slightly away from the brunette, her hands steady on her hips.

“It’s an amazing opportunity, Quinn” Rachel seemed amused but certain “and he’s really a business man. Mr Schue is going to be there too, anyway”.

“I’m coming with you” Quinn decided, suddenly.

Rachel tilted her head, still amused “Quinn, if a grown man was to do me something bad, it wouldn’t be a little blonde cheerleader who would stop him”.

“You clearly don’t know me” Quinn replied, shaking her head expressively.

Rachel smiled sweetly, and then played with a lock of Quinn’s hair “he’s the real deal. I promise you he won’t hurt me”.

“I’m still coming” Quinn raised her eyebrows, insistently.

Patiently, Rachel suggested “what about we meet at my house afterwards? My dad aren’t going to be home until really late, we could make something to eat and… enjoy of each other’s company…” that suggestion was way too tempting for Quinn not to jump on it, and Rachel knew it. She watched as the blonde girl battled with herself – she didn’t like to back out, but she did appreciate Rachel’s suggestion more than she could help herself.


“I’ll call you when I’m done with him and we can meet at my house” Rachel told her, and Quinn twisted her lips, just to make sure Rachel knew she wasn’t completely okay with it.

“Rachel, seriously, you have to be careful. Don’t let him drive you home, don’t accept invitations to go to his house, or hotel room, or whatever…”.

“Honestly!” Rachel cried in despair and amusement “I can’t believe we only have five minutes, and you want to waste them on this!”.

Quinn pursed her lips together, once more, before reuniting them with Rachel’s. The feeling made her relax. They both knew they didn’t have the time to get that properly done, but Quinn was determined to make the most out of the few minutes.

She pushed Rachel against the shelves – gently but demandingly –, cornering the girl between her arms, leaned against the wall. Rachel trapped Quinn’s lip between her own, sucking hard and teasing it with the tip of her tongue. She also relished a little control, even being Quinn the one who majoritily was. Quinn moaned against Rachel’s mouth, and Rachel could practically taste her desire.

Quinn’s fingers began unbuttoning Rachel’s top button’s shirt before she even commanded them to. One hand slid inside Rachel’s shirt, caressing the shivered skin on her chest. Then Quinn cupped Rachel’s breast, over the black lacy bra which she was wearing – it didn’t seem like the type of bra one would usually wear to school, but Rachel was prepared for those encounters with Quinn.

And then the door was pushed open.

Quinn and Rachel were so caught unprepared they didn’t even have the presence of mind to step away from each other, immediately. They didn’t really process what was happening.

Coach Sylvester, the cheerleading coach, was standing at the door, completely mortified. It was obvious she was as shocked as the girls were because, for moment, they remained looking at each other. Coach Sylvester was so caught out of the blue that she didn’t recognise Quinn immediately, until her eyes dropped to the cheerleading uniform she knew so well and then raised them again, to stare right at Quinn’s face.

And that was about when the girls started processing the disaster that was happening.

Quinn jumped back, leaving a nice five foot gap between them. Rachel looked down, just to see how her top buttons’ shirt were undone and her black bra was clearly visible. She hurried to button them up again.

Coach Sylvester fogged eyes – as if she didn’t believe what she had saw – jumped from one girl to another, without really knowing what to do or say.

Part 10

Love should never be that hard - Part 8

Love should never be that hard
Author: girlnamedclark
Rating: PG for the first chapters, eventual PG-13 and NC-17
Length: 43227~the entire thing
Spoilers: not really. mainly AU
Summary: “…We first met long before the society’s ways separated us – first grade. At that time, there were no popular kids’ groups, or anything. I was just Rachel and she was just Quinn…”  it’s high school and Rachel and Quinn are best friends, even though mainly outside high school, seeing that they each have their circle of friends.

A/N: Rachel’s POV only in the first chapter/prologue. Quinn’s POV only in the last chapter/epilogue.

A/N2: I incorporated the episodes on my multi-chaptered fic titled Cheaters in this fic, because it fitted. So I apologize anyone who has read the fic.


 Part 8

Rachel’s always-empty house started to show itself useful, being the place of their meetings after school. Rachel had been using a range of different excuses for Finn – until she found out that simply telling him that she was starting to have yoga classes from four to five was the simplest way to have that moment for herself – or rather, for themselves.

But then, eventually and ungratefully, the five o’clock came, and Finn imposed himself. That afternoon he had barely missed Quinn – the blonde had been careless about the time and Rachel had been to blame as well – as he parked outside Rachel’s house.

Rachel looked at herself in the mirror – she was slightly flushed and suspiciously sweaty. She washed her face with cold water, to try to disguise both facts. The bed was slightly undone, but she didn’t really bother fixing it. She had no plans to stay in her room, for the rest of the afternoon.

She had already planned suggesting going to see a movie, when Finn was bursting inside her room, pausing to kiss her, before sitting on her bed.
“Hey” Rachel said, slightly uncomfortable with the fact that someone else was in the room when she practically could still sense Quinn’s scent “what do you think about a movie?”.

Finn stared up at her, those piercing green eyes “I don’t really feel like going to the cinema” he says, bummed.

Rachel takes only a moment to recompose herself with another suggestion “what about…”.

“Rachel, I would really preferred if we just stayed here and relaxed” Finn said, wearily. He paused “is that okay with you?”.

Rachel stood there, not really knowing what to answer. She couldn’t answer no, could she? She would have to be a reason, and he would want to know it. Well, she couldn’t tell him her reason.

“Sure” she said, forcing herself to smile, as she walked towards the sound system, bending down and turning it on in a random radio station.

When she turned around, Finn was expectantly looking at her, still on her bed. Rachel started feeling her heart racing, and not in a good way. She, slowly and shyly, sat on her bed, on the opposite side of Finn, trying not to seem really inviting. She either failed – or he didn’t care – because he slid himself over, until he was by her side. Firstly, he touched her arm. Such simple gesture that Rachel knew Quinn could make shiver all of her skin. With Finn it only felt like someone – no one in special – was touching her. Then he leaned in to kiss her. Rachel took his kiss, replying not much enthusiastically.

Gently, he started rolling to Rachel’s top, making her lean against the soft pillows behind her.

Rachel’s heart – already fast with nerves – speed up to worryingly fast – almost like she was having an heart attack. She was breathing fast, trying not to faint. She was feeling utterly sick.

The tears assaulted her eyes before she could try to prevent them.

He didn’t notice any of this symptoms and he slid his lips to Rachel’s neck. Rachel didn’t do anything about it. How could she tell him that every touch of him made her feel sick, that his kisses felt sick to her?

She realized what was happening. The acute pain in her chest gave it out. She was having a panic attack. She had been on the edge of many before, but she had always managed to calm herself down. At that moment, she couldn’t.

She felt nauseated, frightened, claustrophobic.

“Finn…” she managed to sob.

He immediately noticed her tone and looked at her tears confusedly, slightly parting their bodies “Rachel…” he mumbled, worriedly.

“I can’t… Finn… don’t” she said, now bursting into heavy tears and hard sobs.


Quinn had found peace in her new-found alone time. After five pm she had the entire afternoon free. Well, before all that happened she usually occupied her afternoons going to the mall with her friends, or to a mani-pedi, or the hair salon, or to the diner where they ordered low calories milkshakes and didn’t pay for them because the waiters couldn’t resist their charms.

Well, now, Quinn didn’t get much gratification from those activities. Her friends annoyed her with the shallow talk – that she used to have – and they annoyed her even more with their convictions that Quinn wasn’t telling them something. Which was – obviously – the truth, but Quinn just couldn’t stand one more of their speeches about how they always told her everything.

So Quinn, slowly, started getting the hang of spending sometime by herself. It wasn’t all bad. She went to the gym, sometimes, not more often because the men’s stares were sickening; she went to the hair salon by herself, something that she had never done before; she caught up with her reading; she started buying architecture magazines. It was relaxing and enjoyable, even though she would give it all up for someone’s – a specific person – company.

As if taking her cue, Rachel knocked at Quinn’s room door, after her maid had let her in the house.

Quinn was utterly surprised by seeing there – Rachel usually wasn’t done with Finn until seven and an half o’clock, time that Quinn called her and they chatted until one of them had to hang up.

She had her eyes red – she had been crying, surely, even though her eyes were dry at the moment – and she had a strange expression in her face “I ended. I broke up with him” she announced.

Quinn’s joy was only controlled because she could see that Rachel was upset about the fact. Quinn searched for Rachel’s eyes, caringly “I’m sorry, Rach. Are you okay?”.

Rachel bit her lip, as if to suppress the tears that were demanding another appearance and nodded. Quinn involved the smaller girl in her arms, holding her close. That didn’t succeed in making Rachel’s tears stop – it actually fed them.

“I had to. Quinn” Rachel looked at Quinn’s eyes, deathly serious “as crazy as this might sound to you, when he kissed me, when he touched me, I couldn’t help but to feel I was cheating on you”.

Quinn’s heart melted with Rachel’s words and, once again, she pulled the girl for a tight hug, kissing her cheek.


It annoyed Rachel that when Finn passed by her and her friends in school, her friends would always take the time to give him their pity glares. First of all, she just knew that Finn wouldn’t like to be treated as the poor sad guy and second of all, her friends were all about supporting him, and nothing about supporting her.

Just because Rachel had been the one ending it, it didn’t mean that this was being easy to her. Because it wasn’t. She actually really liked Finn. She liked him like a best friend, or even a brother. It wasn’t her fault that she couldn’t love him; it wasn’t her fault that she was in love with someone else. And Rachel actually defended that she had done the right thing about leaving him and not leading him on when she couldn’t reciprocate the feelings that he had towards her. Sure, she should have done it before – before all that – but she did it, eventually, and it wasn’t easy.

When Rachel thought about saying that she really wanted them to stay friends, she thought it was the biggest cliché and unoriginal and cheeky thing to say to a guy when you’re breaking up with him. So, she didn’t say it. But, the truth was that she actually would like them to stay friends. She wished that they could reach a point – eventually – where they could be everything they were before, minus the kissing. Because, if Rachel thought of it closely, what she had with Finn was pure friendship – mixed with make out sessions. She liked spending time with him, doing activities, going to concerts, going to the cinema, with him.

She didn’t tell Finn about Quinn, of course not, but she didn’t even mention that there was someone else. She thought it would be uncalled for. What he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

It had been a short week after Rachel had ended her relationship with Finn. They hadn’t talked since, even though Finn always politely greeted Rachel with a nod when they crossed paths. So, everything wasn’t lost, Rachel thought. He couldn’t hate her if he greeted her everyday, right? He was hurt and sad, but he didn’t hate her.


Quinn’s parents were out for dinner with the minister. Quinn had briskly avoided the boring occasion by faking sneezes and declaring that she must be starting to get a flu. Her mother – that nothing knew about medicine – recommended her a hot bath and an early night. Quinn complied on the first command.

“So what movie are we watching tonight?” Rachel inquired, excitedly, with her legs crossed over Quinn’s bed, when Quinn came in with a cup of coffee for her.

Quinn arched her eyebrow to Rachel. She really thought they were going to watch a movie?

Apparently she did, because she had already selected a bunch of DVD’s from Quinn’s collection. Mostly musicals, Quinn noticed, before rolling her eyes. She would be damned if she was going to watch “Funny Girl” again. It was okay the first time, but the three after that had been utterly annoying.

Quinn handed her the cup of coffee – which she took with a sweet smile – and she sat by Rachel’s side, on the bed.

“Rach, TV wasn’t exactly what I was planning for this evening?”.

Rachel was about to ask her what she had planned, but then she caught Quinn’s expression – which she knew too well. Rachel couldn’t help but to smile, but shaking her head.
“Quinn, Kurt made me go with him to the gym for an entire hour this afternoon” she told her, as a parent explains to their child why she can’t visit the moon before dinner “I’m exhausted”.

Quinn gave up, because she knew that later she could catch Rachel off guard.

They selected a movie – not a musical, in the name of Quinn’s sanity – and they pressed play, turning off all the lights in the room to create the right ambient. Fortunately for Quinn, it was the right ambient for movies and for something else.

There hadn’t passed even 15 minutes of the movie and Rachel felt Quinn leaning closer to her. She smiled, completely aware of what Quinn meant, but not planning on let her take the best out of her. Quinn’s hand rested on Rachel’s knee… for a moment. Then, slowly, her hand started sliding her path until it was on Rachel’s thigh, delicately. Rachel felt herself shiver and shudder. She stopped the blonde’s hand. When she looked at Quinn, she saw the blonde naughtily smiling to her, knowing that she was having an effect on Rachel.

Then Quinn acted fast. When Rachel noticed, Quinn had climbed on top of her and she was kissing her neck. It felt very stimulating, and the mattress was comfortable, but Rachel’s body felt like it had been through the Vietnam war and walked back to America by its own.

“Quinn…” Rachel mumbled, slightly amused.

Quinn ignored her.

“I can’t hardly move” Rachel said, and surprisingly she wasn’t annoyed by Quinn’s perseverance. She knew how annoying Finn was when he did the same thing as the stunning blond was doing at that moment.

“That’s okay, I’ll do all the work” Quinn quickly answered, not parting her lips from Rachel’s neck. Rachel laughed, loud and with her entire body, as one should laugh.

“Quinn” she then pleaded, once more, her voice more steady and demanding.

Quinn sighed heavily, sliding to Rachel’s side immediately and annoyed “fine, we’ll watch the damn movie like an old couple if that’s what you want!”.

Rachel’s coherence was suddenly detained by Quinn’s mention of the word couple. Was she implying?...

Quinn was now moping by Rachel’s side, being very careful not to touch Rachel at all, as part of her punishment. Her arms were firmly crossed and, even through the darkness, Rachel could see her lips pressed. Could she be any more adorable?


Quinn didn’t answer, her eyes strictly fixed on the TV screen.

“I changed my mind” Rachel said, with a smile. She saw immediately saw Quinn’s mope disappearing, as she got closer.


Rachel had put all of her clothes back on – because the eminent arrival of Quinn’s parents was heavy on her mind -; Quinn decided to put on a comfy pyjama instead. Rachel cuddled against Quinn’s side as they lied in bed. The movie credits have already rolled and they had watched possibly the first 20 minutes of the movie – well, Quinn didn’t even pay attention to those, because she was too busy planning how she could get Rachel “in the mood”.

“Do you want me to go?” Rachel asks, shyly, because it’s getting late and Quinn did use the sick-excuse with Mrs Fabray. Rachel would hate to be seen by Quinn’s mother that night because, firstly, it would ruin Quinn’s alibi and secondly, the woman is just plain scary.

Quinn shakes her head.

Rachel’s not tranquil “what would happen if our parents found out?” she asks more to the air than everything else.

“About?” Quinn asks, naturally.

“Us” Rachel simply replied.
“Oh God, I don’t even want to think about that!” Quinn cries, horrified.

Rachel stares at Quinn’s face, curiously “would it be that bad?” she asks, slightly frowning.

“You’re obviously not the one who’s parents would burn her like a witch if they found out” Quinn replied back.

“I don’t think it would be that bad, Quinn, you’re their daughter”.

“You keep saying that. That I’m their daughter. Like it mattered” Quinn says, with disdain to the own subject “for Fabray’s family is a prize. If you don’t behave, if you don’t act and be exactly as they want you to be, you don’t get the prize. Well, my parents and… same-sex relationships don’t match”.

“Quinn, do you really think your parents would kick you out if they found out about us?” Rachel asks, incredulously.

“Rachel” Quinn’s voice is controlled, serene “you don’t know my parents”.

Rachel holds Quinn closer, inhaling her scent. She falls in a thoughtful silence, and Quinn does too.

“What about Brad?” Rachel asks, suddenly.

“What about him?” Quinn asks back.

“He’s gay. Pretty obviously gay, for what you told me. And he’s a Fabray”.

“He’s not a Fabray, he’s a Dennis. My aunt’s maiden name was Fabray but she married my uncle, Simon Dennis, a fireman. Needless to say, as soon as she gave up the name and married a fireman, she stopped existing for my grandparents. Having a gay son was only another reason not to ever invite them for Christmas. My parents and my uncles don’t get along, as you might have now figured out. Brad is never invited to our house”.

“Quinn, I don’t know what to tell you but I really don’t think they would…”

“Rachel, please understand that my parents are not like your dads. Your dads might have a lot of flaws, but they are not – and I guarantee you – even close to mine” Quinn cut “for my parents – and I’m not making it up, I’ve heard them admitting – homosexuality is a disease. Not that I’m saying that I’m gay, but this” Quinn pointed to her and Rachel “wouldn’t surely seem healthy to them. So no, Rachel, my parents could never know about us. That would be worst thing that could happen, in my entire life”.

There’s another thoughtful silence. Quinn’s desperately trying to think about something else, while Rachel’s mind is already somewhere else. They lie there, in silence, for about ten minutes, until Rachel suddenly turns around, being on top of Quinn. She’s straddling Quinn’s waist, as the blonde is leaned against a pile of pillows. They’re looking at each other in the eye.
“Quinn” Rachel says, hesitantly. Quinn’s eyes shine, right in front of her “do you love me?”.

Quinn stares at Rachel for a moment. Rachel notices as Quinn’s lips relax, and she seems to be ready to let out a sigh, when another word comes out instead “yes”.

“I love you too” and, for the first time, Rachel feels what she knew she was supposed to feel when pronouncing those words: she has butterflies in her stomach, she feels like she’s about to cry and she knows that the memory of that moment would cling to her for eternity.

One afternoon, Rachel is called from her Geometry class to go to the principal’s office.

When she gets inside the office, she finds that there’s another man beside the principal, and she recognises Mr Schuester, the Spanish teacher.

Principal Figgins greets Rachel with a contained smile, pointing out to her the chair in front of his secretary, next to the one Mr Schue is sitting. Rachel sheepishly sat there, waiting for the principal to start speaking.

“Rachel” Mr Schue started, naturally “how are you today?”.

Rachel looked confusedly at Mr Schue “fine. How are you, sir?”.

He threw his head back, letting out a strong and loud laugher, and Rachel seriously wondered if he was some-type of crazy “I’m terrific, thanks for asking!”.

Rachel felt herself shrug. He asked her first.

“So Rachel, you’re probably wonder why did I have you called to my office this afternoon?” Mr Figgins started, interrupting Mr Schue’s laugher.

Rachel shrugged again, pursing her lips together. She was slightly nervous about the fact that she had no idea what possibly she could have done.

“Well, you are an amazing singer”.

Rachel lifted her eyes, utterly surprised. She felt like answering thank you, but the Mr Schue anticipated to her.

“I know that you probably already know that. And that was not why I called you here” oh, Rachel thought “I called you here to ask if you were aware that, when you performed here in this auditorium’s school, there was a specific gentleman on the audience that had came exactly to see – or rather listen – to you singing”.

“Which time?” Rachel felt the need to ask. She had performed many, many times since she started going to McKinley High.
“Well, last time” Mr Schue frowned for a mere moment, before returning to his upbeat expression “well, he’s name is Matt Finley. He’s connected to Eric Rogers who – you might ask – is a person very experienced in recognising people who are special and make sure that they are the best that they can be”.

Rachel stared at him, blankly.

“He’s a manager” the principal finally explained, cutting their conversation.

“A manager?” Rachel repeated, as such words weren’t meaningful to her.
“Right, Rachel. And Matt is a talent spotter. I went to college with him and, casually, I brought your name up when we met some time ago for coffee. He was more than happy to come here and to check if the praising that I did was objective, or simply provoked by the teacher’s-proud-syndrome” Mr Schue gave her one of his slightly embarrassing, but charming, smiles.

Rachel waited him to continue, almost holding her breath.

“He was very interested on what he saw. Heard. I didn’t tell you anything about it before, because I didn’t want to disappoint you, if this turned out to be just a dead end, but the fact is that Matt was interested enough to have a talk to Eric about you and the man himself agreed on taking a moment of his busy day to come down and listen to you sing, live, at McKinley anniversary party”.

Of all of what Mr Schue had just said, only one thing Rachel had been able to grasp “I’m going to sing at the Annual party?”.

“Indeed, Rachel” he answered, with an amused smile.


Firstly, Rachel hadn’t process it. Then, as the realization slowly hit her, so did the excitement and so did the nerves. The principal gave her the permission to use the choir room to start practicing immediatly. The Annual party was only slightly more than a week away and that seemed awfully close for preparing for something that could change Rachel’s life.

Rachel wasn’t sure if she wanted to be a singer. She absolutely loved to sing and she loved music, but she wasn’t sure if that was all she wanted for herself. If Rachel was honest, she had always imagined herself acting and singing, and even though that first talent she had never had the opportunity to show, she really thought she could be good at it.

After almost two hours of voice exercises and trying to decide which song she was going to perform, Rachel finally left the school buildings. Home was not the way she was going.

Consuelo, the maid, opened the door to Rachel and she frolicked upstairs excitedly

“Quinn!” she opened the room’s door without even remembering to knock or anything “do I have news!”.

The blonde was lying on top of her bed, leaning against a pile of pillows, her knees bent and a book casually on her lap. She stared at Rachel over the book, with an arched eyebrow.

“I still can’t believe this is happening!” Rachel continued, sitting on the edge of the bed, smiling uncontrollably but the blonde remained there, staring at her weirdly, without any excitement. Rachel’s smile faded, and she stared back at Quinn “what’s up with you?”.

“What’s up with me? You’ve just stood me up for two entire hours!” the blonde cried, unbelievably, closing her book abruptly.

“Didn’t you get my message?” Rachel asked, confusedly.
“I did, but you didn’t even explain why you weren’t coming!” Quinn continued.

Rachel felt a huge wave of annoyance. There was she, with the most important news to give, and Quinn couldn’t stop complaining just because she hadn’t been with her the entire afternoon. Rachel forced herself to calm down, because she didn’t want to start a fight. However, she took too much attention to her tone, and too little to her words “Quinn, I have a really amazing thing that I want to tell you and you are acting like a bitch” she said, calmly.

“I’m acting like a bitch?!” Quinn exploded, jumping to her feet “it’s so interesting how you can invert everything. I was here alone and you were the one who disappeared without any explanations and now, suddenly, the problem is me!”.

Rachel stared at her, her eyebrows high in her forehead as much as possible. Her glare was all that Quinn needed to know that she was highly unimpressed by Quinn’s explosion.

“Whatever, Quinn, if you don’t want to know about it, it’s fine by me” Rachel stood up, clutching to her bag, and starting making her way towards the door. It was unbelievable how a stupid fight with Quinn had immediately vanished all the excitement Rachel was feeling about her big break.

Quinn pressed her index finger and thumb against her temples, sighing wearily, trying to calm herself down “Rachel” she called, before the brunette had reached the door.

Rachel turned around, hands fisted on her hips and daring look in her face.

Quinn bit her lip “I’m sorry”.

Rachel’s expression immediately softened. She wasn’t expecting Quinn to apologize. Yet, at least. She knew how consuming it was for the blonde to do such thing. Rachel crossed her arms, to give the appearance that she wasn’t cracking, but she already was.

“Will you tell me the news?” Quinn asked, softly, leaning her head to the side to signal adorable. 

Rachel forced herself to stay mad just a little bit longer, so that Quinn had to find other more efficient ways of apologizing.

Part 9

Love should never be that hard - Part 7

Love should never be that hard
Author: girlnamedclark
Rating: PG for the first chapters, eventual PG-13 and NC-17
Length: 43227~the entire thing
Spoilers: not really. mainly AU
Summary: “…We first met long before the society’s ways separated us – first grade. At that time, there were no popular kids’ groups, or anything. I was just Rachel and she was just Quinn…”  it’s high school and Rachel and Quinn are best friends, even though mainly outside high school, seeing that they each have their circle of friends.

A/N: Rachel’s POV only in the first chapter/prologue. Quinn’s POV only in the last chapter/epilogue.

A/N2: I incorporated the episodes on my multi-chaptered fic titled Cheaters in this fic, because it fitted. So I apologize anyone who has read the fic.


 Part 6

Quinn is not very happy that Rachel has to leave early on that Tuesday afternoon, because the entire week has been dedicated to Finn and his stupid surprise party and now Finn and that stupid surprise party is taking her the only afternoon she has had with Rachel the entire week. It seems utterly unfair and she has to remind to her that she’s not legally entitled to time with Rachel; it’s a privilege. But that doesn’t stop her from winning and complaining, as Rachel puts her shoes back on, ready to leave Quinn’s party to go home, shower, dress and prepare herself, then go to the restaurant where the party is going to happen to direct everyone before Finn arrives.

She wines and she complains, but she sees that none of that is affecting Rachel – she actually seems like she’s quite amused – as the brunette leans over to kiss her and disappears behind the door of Quinn’s room. As Rachel was starting to run late, she disappeared so quickly that Quinn only registered that when she wasn’t already seeing the brunette. Quinn hears Rachel’s steps on the stairs, and she ponders about catching her to give her a very interesting piece of information that she had been keeping for the best time to reveal. Well, that wasn’t the best time, but it was the time she got.

She decided to instead open her room’s window and wait until Rachel appeared bellow her, in the front lawn, walking towards her car.

“Hey, at what time are you going to be done?” Quinn asked, when she appears.

Rachel is startled and looks confusedly around, before realizing Quinn is over her “I don’t know. Late”.

“But it’s just going to be dinner, right?” Quinn asks with an arched eyebrow.

“Yes, but we’re not rushing anything” Rachel answers.

“Well, when you do get out…” Quinn starts and then nervously looks around the empty street, to make sure nobody is listening. There’s not a single person on the street – except for Rachel – but still Quinn decides not take risks and to be discreet “you could stop by”.

“But… your parents…”

“Out of town. Won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon” Quinn proudly states.

Rachel bites her lip. It’s obvious she’s having mixed feelings about it “Quinn, I can’t… I don’t know what me and Finn are going to do after the dinner… I don’t even know at what time it will end, it can end pretty late…”

Quinn stares at her, unbelievably. She wants to yell at Rachel for wasting such an amazing opportunity for the two of them being together, she wants to yell at her because she’s going to waste everything because of him, she wants to yell at her because every single thought about an activity that she and Finn shared is revolting – especially late at night. But she doesn’t. She’s Quinn Fabray, and Quinn Fabray doesn’t get down and dirty. She doesn’t descend to those levels. Once again, she wants Rachel to do what she wants to do.

She closes her room’s window without bothering to say anything else to an expecting Rachel.


Quinn Fabray didn’t do “alone” well. She never had to do “alone” and she found out she didn’t like that. She had way too many friends for her time, and that had helped her, and – in a normal situation – she would have already arranged a small, yet fun, group of people to join her in her house. But she hadn’t made such plans because – apparently stupidly – she had just supposed that Rachel would want to come over. Well, Rachel didn’t.

And now Quinn Fabray was alone in her bedroom.

She could have called one of her friends – any of them – and ask where they were and what they were doing and go meet them – or ask them to meet her – but she found out, also, that she wasn’t in the mood for company.

So Quinn Fabray was deliberately alone in her room and hating every second of it. She didn’t understand how Rachel did that so often. She always had felt bad for the girl for what she went through but just now she realized what it really was like.

Anyway, what was one supposed to do home alone? Quinn had never been that into TV – the commercials and constant publicity innerved her – so she wasn’t really familiar with any TV show or programs she might enjoy. After zapping through the channels and finding nothing – how was it possible to have 200 channels with nothing? –, she turned the TV off. No more TV.

Her apple laptop was just by her side in bed, but she didn’t feel like checking her usual sites. The book that she had been currently reading didn’t seem appealing at all at that moment – even though Quinn was just at the part where they found out who killed the old lady – and her Ipod seemed like a collection of old, worn out songs.

And laying there, thinking about what Rachel and her surprise party, and him and everything else was just making her flat out depressed and really, utterly mad.

Quinn closed her eyes. She wasn’t sleepy, but she had heard that the mind could control everything else. So, if she really concentrated, she could turn her brain off, fall asleep, and put herself out of the misery.


The surprise part had been slightly feeble – because Finn looked like he knew exactly what he was walking into – but everything else was just perfect. Everyone – everyone – showed up.

The dinner part was hectic but just good fun. Rachel had given some thought about the sitting distribution, because she wanted to make sure the conversation flooded fluidly, but, when she noticed, everyone was sitting everywhere, and the conversation wasn’t slowing down. It was almost hard to follow one, because they were loud and intercalated and one moment Rachel was chatting with one person and the other she was chatting with another, without really realizing how she had done the transition.

After the food part was done, they still lingered and lingered in the table, mostly drinking and talking. Rachel could notice how her boyfriend got more and more tipsy – but hey, he was turning 18. And tipsy Finn wasn’t the tipsy Rachel knew – annoying and incoherent – it was actually adorable and just slightly over-excited.

When the waiter politely approached Rachel – because she had been the organiser of the entire dinner – and told her the restaurant was about to close, seeing that it was close to one am, Rachel was shocked that the time had flew by so unnoticeably. Everyone was bummed they had to leave, but eventually the waiters got them all to the parking lot.

Finn squeezed Rachel, as he walked – not quite steadily – by her side “you look so beautiful”.

Rachel knew it, but it was nice to hear it. She had spent extra-time trying to look as good as she possibly could. She usually blow-dried her hair every time after having a shower, but that afternoon she went the extra bit of using a curly iron just to give her more defined waves. She then fixated everything with this hairspray Quinn had recommended to her. She wore a tiny, lovely, sneaky-sexy, black dress and matched it with red pumps. About the make-up, she went very discreetly – eye liner and a hint of beige eye shadow which she was told that highlighted her brown eyes.

So Rachel made sure she looked quite nice, but it was still nice that people recognised it.

One of Finn’s friends offered to help Rachel getting him home, but she smiled modestly and assured him that she got it.

Finn seemed like he didn’t even notice that Rachel was shoving him inside her car, in the passenger seat, as he talked gleefully about his dog, for some reason. Rachel drove him home.

Once outside Finn’s house, she threw him a sweet smile, as she waited him to leave her car “I hope you enjoyed the evening” she mumbled, as he tried to figure out how to take off his seat-bell.

Finn didn’t answer. Instead of that, finally setting himself free from the seat-bell, he leaned towards Rachel abruptly and kissed her. Rachel could only stand there, and kiss him back, with as much enthusiasm as she could – which turned out not be a lot.

The kiss was sloppy, wet, imperfect. Rachel didn’t enjoy it as she should. Once Finn straightened himself up, she couldn’t help but to feel relief. That feeling only lasted for a moment.

“Come inside” he plead, his green eyes mirroring his vulnerability.

Rachel felt a wave of sickness that, in its turn, brought guiltiness to Rachel heart “Finn, you’re drunk” she said, simply. He stared at her, sadly. He was too much of a gentleman to insist, but Rachel could see, could read in his disappointed eyes, how he was starting to question her feelings for him. Without saying anything, Finn opened the door of the car and left.

Rachel watched as he – dizzily – made his way to his front door, and watched as he disappeared. And then she watched the empty, dark street of his house. In her mind there was only one person, and it turned out not to be Finn.

Rachel can’t say that she planned on driving to Quinn’s house. But, sure enough, she was parking her car outside Quinn’s house, when the clock marked exactly 1:24 am.

Quinn was awake when the door bell of her house rang, and she immediatly ran downstairs, knowing exactly who was going to be there.

They didn’t have to say anything, as they stared at each other, the darkness that involved them not mattering, because they knew exactly how the other looked.

So even though they couldn’t see each other, they saw each other.

Quinn reached for Rachel’s hand and effortlessly – because Rachel simply followed the feeling of Quinn’s body – directed her in the dark, towards the stairs.

There was a beam of light coming from Quinn’s semi-opened room door. Quinn came inside her room first – with Rachel still on her hand. As soon as they were both inside, Quinn turned around to immediately meet Rachel’s lips.

Usually shorter, but now perfectly levelled, since she was wearing high heels and Quinn was barefooted, Rachel was able conduct Quinn backwards to the bed, where they both fell, without parting apart.

Rachel’s lips were demanding against Quinn’s softer, but the girls had found a rhythm.

Rachel had discovered that kissing Quinn provoked her the same feelings she had before performing: her heart started racing like crazy and her palms got sweaty.

To an objective viewer, what the girls were doing at that moment was like what they had been doing the past two weeks, but, somehow, the girls knew it was different, they knew that this was more.

Quinn took that into action as she puzzled her leg between Rachel’s and pressed her thigh against Rachel centre to provoke a quiet moan from Rachel’s lips. Rachel’ body was pressuring as much as she could  against Quinn’s because she wanted – she needed – she craved for the feeling of the body she had been dreaming about for the entire year. The arousal that was building inside Rachel’s body was unknown to her, but she had no problem identifying it, because she had never felt it in such great need.

Quinn’s elbows slowly started lifting her upper-body and, then, briskly, she made Rachel roll, and suddenly she was on top. Rachel had mixed feelings about this. As much as it felt good having Quinn’s body straddling her waist, it was exasperating not being in control.

All the negative part of Quinn being on top of her disappeared as Quinn started a slight – but effective – movement of her hips. Rachel – rolling her eyes – decided she liked Quinn in control. Quinn leaned down, and their lips met. Quinn exploring hands adventured along Rachel’s toned legs, pushing against the material of Rachel’s black dress.

Rachel then felt the need to softly push Quinn’s chest, so that she could speak. When she did, she did it breathlessly, and hesitantly “I’ve never…” Rachel didn’t finish the sentence, but it was not needed.

Quinn slightly straightened herself up to look at Rachel’s face more properly. Her tone was low, but sweet “not with Finn?...” of course not, she thought, Rachel would have told her. Just like Quinn had told Rachel when she lost her virginity, almost two years ago.

Rachel dropped her eyes, and slowly, almost embarrassedly shook her head, negatively. Quinn stared at her, unsure on what to say, what to do. She reached for Rachel’s hair, naturally pushing a lock of it around her ear “it’s okay” she mumbled, sweetly, before leaning down to kiss Rachel’s lips again.

And it was okay. Rachel knew that even Finn – as much as he loved her and as caring and careful he was – could never be as sweet and soft as Quinn was to her. There was also the fact that Quinn made her feel things Finn just couldn’t. And – despite everything – Rachel trusted Quinn, she trusted her in a way that she could never trust Finn.

Quinn slowly straightened herself up to let Rachel sit up. Rachel threw her arms over her head and Quinn took the hint, grabbing Rachel’s end of dress and slowly, carefully, tugging it over her hair. The fabric only interrupted for a moment their intensely passionate glares. And then Rachel was, wearing only black underwear, dark hair falling on her tanned shoulders. Quinn thought she had never looked so beautiful to her.

Quinn leaned down, again, pushing Rachel’s body with hers. She tasted the exposed skin of Rachel’s neck and shoulders, not restricting herself to leave some marks behind.

Rachel’s hand slid along Quinn’s back, until it was cupping the blonde’s ass.

Exploring fingers trace patterns on Rachel’s belly and caused her skin to shiver repeatedly. The fingers then teased the beginning of the braw, as a small preview and then, Quinn’s hand, with no hesitation, cupped Rachel’s breast, over the thin fabric of the black bra.

Rachel then decides that she wants – needs – more flesh and she gets rid of Quinn’s top. Quinn complies obediently, waiting for Rachel to get the job done, so that she can come back to work on tasting every bit of Rachel’s skin.

Rachel trembles as the blonde lips leave her mouth and start heading south, without any deviations. Quinn slides her lips along Rachel’s neck, arriving to her chest. Lower she finds the bloat of Rachel’s breasts. She is then stopped by the inconvenient bra fabric, but – as she doesn’t want to get rid of it just yet – she jumps over the fabric, resuming her path in Rachel’s abs. Rachel shivers and shudders as Quinn’s lips get closer and closer to where she needs them.

Quinn is patient, though. She kisses Rachel belly button and slides her lips until the panties’ fabric stops them.

Quinn is now getting rid of her jeans and Rachel prompts herself up to help her.

The mesmerizing view of Quinn’s skin lets Rachel motionless, but Quinn involves Rachel’s face with her hands, kissing her as hard as she can, and then slowly starts to lie down, pulling Rachel over her.

Now in control, Rachel darts her tongue out to taste Quinn’s earlobe and then softly bites it, provoking a moan on Quinn’s lips. Rachel presses her tight up to Quinn’s centre, because she knows how good that feels and she wants Quinn to experience it.

Quinn rolls her eyes, biting her lower lip so hard it’s hurting. Rachel now gets into a rhythm, a pace, moving her body, increasing and decreasing her pressure against Quinn, while sweeping her tongue inside Quinn’s mouth. Rachel feels the smooth fabric of Quinn’s panties dump against her leg, and that only encourages her to keep what she’s doing.

Quinn’s breasts are soft against her palms, they fit perfectly. Quinn can’t literally breathe when Rachel adventures her fingers inside her panties, just to feel her. She’s so wet.

Rachel adores that the blonde girl bellow her is so over stimulated at her touch. But then, without any warning, Quinn makes Rachel roll, falling against the bed, and now Quinn’s crawling over Rachel, and her eyes tell how aroused she is.

She slides her hand inside Rachel’s panties, as she kisses her neck.

Quinn’s a woman. She’s familiar with the instrument. She uses her knowledge to find the spot and softly teases it, preparing Rachel, before pressing against her clit.

Rachel’s breath is coming out in erratic blows and she moans, heavily. Quinn muffles her noise with her own mouth and presses again with her finger. Rachel bits her lip, almost hurting the blonde, if it didn’t feel so damn good.

Quinn then adventures south – more even – and she slides one finger inside Rachel. She’s careful to read her body language – she doesn’t want to hurt her. Rachel only moans – and Quinn decides that it is in pleasure. She slides the finger deeper. Then she adds another finger. There, she’s satisfied, because Rachel seems like she can’t deal with more. Her hips are arched, to get more pressure and Quinn does so. She starts pumping her fingers slow, letting Rachel dictate the pace with her hips.

She then feels Rachel too excited. She doesn’t want her to come undone just now. Rachel’s eyes are closely shut, and her lips slightly opened, letting increasing moans escape.

Quinn takes her fingers off Rachel and the brunette can only growl in frustration. Quinn dives her hands behind Rachel’s back and unhooks the clasp of Rachel’s bra.

She kisses each one of Rachel’s breasts, before shimmering down, sliding Rachel’s panties down with her.

The first lick of Quinn’s soft tongue led Rachel’s mind to shortcut. The moan that she lets out is so loud, that Rachel feels impelled to cover her mouth with her hand, even though knowing that there was nobody else in the house.

Quinn proceeds, ambitiously, concentrating on the small concentration of nerves that constituted one’s clit. Rachel feels like she completely lost the control of her muscles and she’s clenching the comforter, gathering the fabric in a tight grip.

Quinn gives purposeful licks, over enflamed flesh, leading Rachel to the edge.  

The wave of shudders, tension and pleasure is uncontrollable and Rachel finds out that it is the best feeling in the world – coming on Quinn’s mouth.

Quinn crawls up Rachel’s body, and rests her head against it as Rachel’s getting her senses back. Quinn bites her own lip, observing carefully her expression. Rachel’s eyes – darkened with the arousal – are now clouded with pleasure and she momentarily closes them, as she’s trying to get her breath back to normal. When she opens it, Quinn can clearly see that she’s not done.

Softly, the girls slide, Rachel staying on top now. Quinn forces her self to be submissive – something that she’s not known to be.

Rachel – now more confident and wise about what to do – has no problem taking charge. She tries to read Quinn’s body language to know what Quinn wanted, where she wanted, and where she wanted Rachel to go. Every touch of Rachel shivers Quinn skin and she is like putty under her.

Quinn moans Rachel’s name when the brunette reaches her goal, after kissing the inside of the blonde’s thighs and sucking slightly, enough to leave a mark. Never Rachel’s name sounded so delicious to Rachel’s ears. The feeling of Rachel’s tongue is too overwhelming and nothing – no guy – had ever felt like that – physically or emotionally. Quinn is ready to come, only some moments later from Rachel starting. Rachel understands this – she’s never done such thing as what she’s doing at that moment, but some things come instinctively – because she decides that that’s not how she wants to do it and, before Quinn reached the point, she slides her body up, against Quinn’s body, replacing her mouth with her fingers. Her fingers naturally find the spot where Quinn wants them. Rachel kisses Quinn and Quinn tries to kiss back – even though the stimulation leaves her with not much control of herself. Rachel slides one finger, then another. She pauses, Quinn moans in pleasure and expectation. Another finger is slid inside her. Perfect.

The pace starts slowly, but Rachel interprets Quinn’s moans and picks it up. The strokes are controlled, planned, because Rachel is just getting the hang of it. Still, they manage to the job. Rachel feels how Quinn becomes tighter and she tenses, rolling her eyes and moaning loudly. She gives her more and more, and she kisses Quinn, the moans being muffled by her mouth. And, that way, she can taste Quinn, as she comes against her mouth.

The aroma of Quinn, Rachel and sweat as Rachel stays on top of Quinn, feeling her rising and falling chest and her erratic heart. She places her face against Quinn’s neck feeling tears – the most amazing type of tears – watering her eyes.


The lazy morning starts appearing finally. The TV is still on without any sound. There’s triathlon on, and Quinn recognises it isn’t the most romantic thing, but it doesn’t matter, as long as she still has Rachel nested against her, deep in a peaceful innocent sleep. Rachel had fallen asleep as soon as they turned the TV on – exhausted from all the feelings, the intensity and pleasure – but Quinn was restless, in a good way. Rachel was so quiet when asleep. Quinn for moments even feared she wasn’t breathing, until she leaned down, rested her head against her chest and confirmed that she was.

And so she watched the triathlon. She might not be a manly-looking woman whose muscles were more evident that her femininity and not be able to swim, run and ride a bike faster than anyone, but none of that mattered, because she had Rachel in her arms and she had Rachel’s heart and she had no doubt about it.

Part 8

Love should never be that hard - Part 6

Love should never be that hard
Author: girlnamedclark
Rating: PG for the first chapters, eventual PG-13 and NC-17
Length: 43227~the entire thing
Spoilers: not really. mainly AU
Summary: “…We first met long before the society’s ways separated us – first grade. At that time, there were no popular kids’ groups, or anything. I was just Rachel and she was just Quinn…”  it’s high school and Rachel and Quinn are best friends, even though mainly outside high school, seeing that they each have their circle of friends.

A/N: Rachel’s POV only in the first chapter/prologue. Quinn’s POV only in the last chapter/epilogue.

A/N2: I incorporated the episodes on my multi-chaptered fic titled Cheaters in this fic, because it fitted. So I apologize anyone who has read the fic.


 Part 6

Gary Ford was a total jerk. Quinn wished she could state the obvious – because everyone in the table was laughing at his condescending comments about the waiters and his bad jokes – but she realized that, in that environment, Gary Ford was just the type of people that everyone adored. Quinn thought how happy her father would be to have him as his son-in-law and they could both talk and talk about how immigrants ruin

Seriously, Gary Ford and her father were made to be buddies. They both would vote for George W. Bush if he was still a candidate; they both played golf; they were racists and xenophobes; not to mention homophobes – fags as her father would gently put it, when he wasn’t using harsher words.

Throughout the entire dinner, Quinn felt sick and she kept as silent as she could, to not incentive any conversation with Gary. But he wouldn’t give up so easily; he was constantly asking her questions and trying to pull her inside a conversation he was having with her father.

Quinn desperately hoped Gary would take her coldness not as teasing but really as what it was: profound and eternal disgust.

“I’m just going to make a quick phone call, okay?” Quinn asked to her mother. She could see how the woman raised her eyebrows deeply unpleased with Quinn’s lack of etiquette, but she didn’t care.

Once outside, Quinn allowed herself to enjoy the fresh breeze of the night and the lack of unbearable conversations and comments before she actually made her phone call.

Rachel picked up quickly. Her dad wasn’t home, yet, even though it was past nine pm. She didn’t notice much sadness in the girl’s voice; she was kind of expecting. She felt insanely bad for not being able to go to her house, because she was stuck in the most horrible dinner ever. Rachel tried to comfort her reminding Quinn that Gary – in fifteen years – would be suffering from early baldness. This somehow seemed to calm Quinn down. Then Rachel yawns and says she’s probably going to bed, and Quinn wishes her good night.

Quinn was about to put her phone inside her purse when she sees, by the corner of her eye, Gary stepping outside the restaurant. Quinn is really at that stage of hate where everything he does is annoying to her, and so she tries to disguise her skin crawling as she sees him walking languidly towards her. His holding a pack of cigarettes. The virtues don’t stop revealing themselves, Quinn ironically thinks to herself, pondering if she can pretend she didn’t saw him coming over and escape towards the back door. It’s too late for that.
“Hello” he says. A pompous voice that makes Quinn want to bite her ears off.

“Hi” she replies, though, trying to maintain polite, but not inviting.

“So… it’s kind of hard to talk to you with my parents and your parents wanting to make conversation” he says, lightning his cigarette and then expelling a thick grey cloud of smoke from his lips.

Quinn thinks about how Rachel would never smoke in her life: firstly, it’s bad for the health, secondly she wouldn’t risk her singing voice and thirdly it’s just plain disgusting.

“So…” he continues, leaving Quinn thinking if he doesn’t know any other sentence connector “I was wondering when would you like me to pick you up?”.

Quinn looks incredulously at her, and almost feels like she’s going to burst into laughers “I don’t think so”.

“Excuse me?” he seems genuinely confused.
“Not interested” she says, getting a bigger kick out of announcing it than she probably should.

“I’m sorry, but you are aware that this entire thing” he says, starting to reveal a little impatience, as he gestured the restaurant behind him “is a set up between your parents and mine?”.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean that I will or want to date you” she answers, still amused.

“Is this about rebellion?” he drops his cigarette and smashes it with his shoe “is this about not pleasing your parents?”.

Quinn is utterly amused. The poor guy can’t just accept the fact that she doesn’t want to go out with him because she doesn’t want to go out with him “no, this is about me not wanting to date you”.

He stares at her, one pompous eyebrow raised.

“Besides, I have someone” Quinn heard herself add.

Gary seemed calmer about knowing that fact. After all it wasn’t that his charm wasn’t working, it was because she was already taken “are you two exclusive?”.

Quinn hated the fact that she hesitated on that question “I am” apparently, she didn’t add.

“If so why are your parents trying to set you up with someone else?” he asked, suspiciously.

“They don’t know” Quinn shrugged, naturally.

And Quinn was surprised – and delighted – to see how cold and indifferent Gary was towards her, throughout the rest of the evening.


“I told you I’m not coming tonight” Quinn annoyingly stated to the phone, turned against Rachel’s window bedroom. Rachel casually looked at Quinn’s back “I’m not feeling so well. I’ll just stay home and… rest” she lied and Rachel smiled, looking down at the collection of possible DVD’s she had selected for that night.

Rachel didn’t remember the last time Quinn had missed one of Santana Lopez’s parties – not when she and her jock ex-boyfriend Jay ended just about hours from the party, not when she had the flue in the winter – and she couldn’t help but to feel foolishly happy about the fact that Quinn was missing one in order to be with her. Rachel hadn’t even suggested, Quinn just promptly invited herself over, when Rachel said that she wasn’t going to Santana’s party that night because she was tired and preferred staying in.

“Well, I’ll have to deal with the fact that I’ve missed out on Maggie passing out on top of the pool table” Quinn ironically stated “what? No! I told you I’m going to stay home tonight”.

Rachel patiently waited for her phone call to end “what was Santana saying?” she asked, then.

“She was all accusing me to be secretly meeting with my secret loverboy… whatever” Quinn shrugged, then sitting by Rachel’s side in the bed, looking down at the DVD’s she herself had brought, to add to Rachel’s as the possible movie for that night.

“So what do we have here?” Rachel nonchalantly asked.

“I tried to get a big selection of genres because I wasn’t sure what you were in the mood for” Quinn explained, pointing out the different boxes “innocent movies, light romantic comedies, action movies, thrillers, spicy…” she felt herself blush “movies”.

Rachel laughed, because when Quinn said “spicy movies” all she could think off was porn, wish was definitely not what Quinn Fabray would bring.

“Choose whatever, is fine with me” Rachel said, standing up “I’m just going to make some coffee for me, and do you want tea?”.

Quinn shook her head “no, it’s okay. You know it’s not healthy for you to drink all that coffee you do, right?”.

Rachel looked like a little child whose mother told her she couldn’t play “but without coffee I lose my ability to do that stand and walking and putting words to make sentences thingy”.

Quinn smiled, sweetly “I do like when you do that”.

As Rachel absented herself to the kitchen downstairs, Quinn took it on herself to select the movie for that night. The only reason she had brought such variety was really so that Rachel could choose something that appealed to her – but since Rachel had let Quinn choose for her – Quinn was almost sure about what she wanted to see.

She selected the two “spicy movies” she had brought and, after some consideration, she chose “Where the truth lies”. She hadn’t seen it yet, but she had a general idea about what it was about.

She inserted the DVD into the machine and let everything ready to roll for when Rachel arrived. She lied on top of Rachel’s bed, getting comfortable.

When Rachel arrived there was no doubt about where she was going to settle; without hesitation, the brunette snuggled below Quinn’s arm, and curled up against her. Quinn pressed play on the remote control.

The movie plot was interesting, but the girls saw themselves more captivated towards the most graphic scenes. It was what people call a sexual thriller that perfectly mixed the suspense with the spice.

When the credits rolled, both girls couldn’t say they had been bored with it.

Quinn consulted the time: just about eleven pm “are your dads never home?”. It had been automatic and she didn’t really think that through, and she could see how Rachel’s face suddenly darkened.

“Quinn, you’re making me sad” she mumbled.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t want that!” Quinn held the girl tighter “let’s talk about something else”.

“Okay” Rachel promptly agreed “do you want to know what are my plans for Finn’s birthday?”.

Quinn’s gasp was very audible “let’s not talk about that” she said, not bothering to hide the jealous tone.

“Okay” Rachel repeated and both girls fell into a momentary silence.

Quinn was the one breaking, her voice sounding unsure and slightly embarrassed “do you ever think about…” it was a far too big pause to be natural. It was almost as if Quinn was building the courage to say the next word “sex?”.

Rachel didn’t talk immediately “what do you mean? If I think…”

“About you and me” Quinn made clear.

Rachel paused. The silence was unnerving to Quinn, so she anticipated Rachel “don’t you sometimes get… too hot? When we are together”.

“I do think about it” Rachel finally answered, honestly “it’s inevitable. You’re a good kisser, Quinn…”


There was another silence.

“So you think that, maybe, someday…” Quinn continued.
“Someday, yeah” Rachel quickly answered.

“Someday, like, eventually, or someday, like, in the eminent future?” not even Quinn was sure about what she meant by that.



“I don’t think I’m ready” Rachel answered, bluntly.

Quinn nodded “I understand” and she ran her fingers through dark, strong hair, affectionately.


It was crazy, right? No, it was unhealthy, Rachel decided, as she made herself look away from the field. It was simply and flat out unhealthy. Rachel was a sick person. She really was. There was not any other explanation.

How could she sit there, in the bleachers of the Dennis Adams’ football field, with her boyfriend by her side, in that beautifully poetic Spring day – with great potential for  romanticism – and all she could do was to stare jealously at one stunning Quinn Fabray talking to a jock?

Well, if that could be categorize as just talking. Rachel, even from far away, could spot all the signs, without even trying to. Her tiny grin – even as she spoke -, the fact that she was slightly leaned towards the guy; her constant hair tossing, the giggles, the occasional touching. That was, without any doubt, a session of Quinn’s famous flirtation. And – if anything could make it worse – he was on the opposing team?!

Not that it made any difference at which team he belonged for Rachel, but she told herself to be indigenised in the name of her school spirit.

It didn’t help that Kurt had informed Rachel that the guy Quinn was talking to was one Fred Patterson, the great star of the opposing team and the – by Kurt’s words – most wanted high school bachelor in town.

Finn pretended to be offended by the fact that Kurt was insinuating that the guy was more wanted that he was, until Mercedes cleverly pointed out that he was no “bachelor”.

Finn smiled, surrounding, and pressing a kiss to Rachel’s cheek. All of the sudden, he was quite happy for not being the most wanted high school bachelor.

Rachel could see her friends’ looks – that purse of lips and puppy eyes that meant that they thought her boyfriend was adorable and so sweet – and she couldn’t help but to feel mad at herself for not acknowledging it herself. It left her restless to feel like her friends wished more to have boyfriend like Finn that she did. 

That momentarily distraction made her forget she was trying – at every cost – not to glance over to the field, and so she did, only to be again staring at Quinn and Fred.

Then, suddenly, she saw Quinn saying goodbye to the guy and disappearing bellow the bleachers, towards the bathroom, Rachel figured. Without thinking twice, the brunette was on her feet “I’m going to the bathroom” she announced.

Finn – who was in midle conversation with Mercedes and Kurt – only glanced up and smiled, then resuming to what he was doing.

Rachel leaped down the bleachers, briskly making her way towards the bathroom, without any type of hesitation. She wasn’t sure why she wanted to talk to Quinn, but it was stronger than her.

The bathroom was empty, except for one locked stall, which Rachel quickly calculated to be the one where Quinn was.

When Quinn got out of her bathroom stall, she seemed surprised to see Rachel there, waiting for her, crossed arms over her chest.

“Hey” she greeted sweetly, passing by her towards the sink to wash her hands.

“Made a new friend?” damn. The jealously had been stronger – and apparently smarter – than Rachel, because it had made her walk the entire way to the bathroom without she even knowing that it was to have a jealously scene.

Quinn seemed confused, only for a moment “oh, Fred?”.

“Fred” Rachel said, as if mocking the name.

“We were just talking”.

“Oh, talking” Rachel said, sounding sardonic.

“Yeah, talking” Quinn said, a smile forming on her lips because – as much as she liked to be annoyed at the fact that Rachel was jealous – she couldn’t help but to be delighted by it.  

“That is hardly considered as only talking” Rachel insisted “the touchy-feely. The giggles. The flirt”.

“Rachel, I’m a cheerleader, my job consists on flirting with the players” Quinn said, jokingly.

“And what a good job you do. I see now why you are the captain cheerleader” Rachel said and she meant it as offensively as she made it sound.

Quinn was suddenly not liking where that was going. She crossed her arms “what’s your problem, Rachel?”.

“My problem? I don’t have a problem” Rachel lied, not very convincingly, because her tone was starting to rise as the argument heat up.

“You obviously do, and I bet it isn’t easy to pronounce”.

“Oh, again with the cheap insults. I thought we were over that phase”.

“Apparently we’re not, because you’ve just called me – without using such words, I admit – a shameless slut”.

“Well, what is the definition of slut?” Rachel asked, rhetorically “I think that it’s something about getting it on with anyone and everyone that crosses your path. Unfortunately, I crossed your path”.

Quinn – that hadn’t related to Rachel about the statement she had made to Gary (about being exclusive) because she felt slightly embarrassed that she was so committed to the relationship when Rachel so obviously wasn’t and didn’t seem to want to end her relationship with her boyfriend – was really starting to get mad, and she stepped forwards “girl friend needs to chill out. Can you hear yourself? Firstly, you’re insulting me and insinuating that the only reason that we have what we have it’s of some pathological problem that I have, secondly you are there, on the bleachers, kissing your boyfriend and you think it’s okay to freak out because I was talking to a guy? Fuck, Rachel, get over yourself!” Quinn was about to make a big exit, but Rachel grasped her arm.
“Do you want me to break up with Finn? Is that what you want?”.

“I want you to do what you want to do” Quinn replied, madly, setting her arm free of Rachel’s grasp and finally leaving.


I’m sorry’s had proved to be the hardest words to say. Rachel almost wished she didn’t had to say them – that Quinn could just understand that she was apologizing by the gifts and the guilty-looking appearance at the front steps of her house – but she knew that Quinn would make her say them.

Quinn couldn’t say she was surprised to see Rachel when she opened the door of her house. She wasn’t expecting her at that moment, but she was definitely eventually expecting her. And she wasn’t going to make it easier for Rachel.

Quinn raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms, waiting for it.
“I’m sorry” Rachel said, with a hopeful smile on her lips. She then lifted her bag. Quinn stared curiously at it “I was going to bring you chocolates but I remembered you were on a diet, so instead I bought you cherries. They’re your favourite fruit, right? I remembered”.

Quinn leaned her head to the side, as if saying she was half-convinced.

“And I bought you a little something…” Rachel continued fishing for it on the bag. It was a little box that had “Rock” written on it. Quinn was already feeling more forgiving. “Rock” was her favourite accessorize boutique. It wasn’t the one cheapest ones, either-

Even though her parents would buy her just about anything Quinn would ask them too, it was always nice to receive them from other people.

Trying not to look to eager, Quinn reached for the little box and opened. Earrings; hoops of different shades of blue, just about the perfect size – not too long. They were stunning.

Quinn couldn’t hold her smile for appearing “wow” she mumbled, simply, just not to get Rachel to rest on her apologies.

“I thought they would go great with your hair and your eyes” Rachel said, expectantly.

Quinn nodded, decided to play hard to get, at least just yet “they are beautiful”. Quinn crossed her arms, waiting.

“I don’t have anything else” Rachel pleaded, sadly “just my profound regret for being such an ass-hole”.

“Ass-hole” Quinn repeated, for some reason.

“Sorry?” Rachel didn’t understand.

“I have been trying to put a name on it” Quinn smiled, maliciously “you’re right, ass-hole”.

Rachel pressed her lips together, in a small impatient grin. If the blonde was so obviously teasing her it was because she wasn’t that mad “what can I do to make it better?”.

Quinn shrugged, still playing “do you want to come in?”.

Rachel promptly accepted it, and soon enough the girls were back to normal.

“Our first fight” Rachel commented, once inside Quinn’s room.

“I take it that all the others didn’t count?...” Quinn joked.

“No, our first fight as…” Rachel suddenly stopped, realizing she didn’t have a name to give to it. Couple seemed untrue.

“As…” Quinn was obviously amused at watching her debate with a label. Rachel questioned herself if that was still part of the punishment.

“As…” Rachel dropped herself in Quinn’s bed “what are we, Quinn?”.

“I don’t know, Rachel” Quinn answered, with a professional tone; as if they were two anchorwomen talking live.

Rachel leaned her head to the side, her eyes in a slightly darker shade than usual. Quinn knew what that meant, and she liked itt. The leaning of the head, the dark eyes, Rachel wanted her, craved for her.

“Does it matter?” Rachel asked, patting the comforter by her side, encouraging Quinn to sit.

“You tell me” Quinn replied, slowly sitting by Rachel’s side, before their lips collided.

Part 7

Love should never be that hard - Part 5

Love should never be that hard
Author: girlnamedclark
Rating: PG for the first chapters, eventual PG-13 and NC-17
Length: 43227~the entire thing
Spoilers: not really. mainly AU
Summary: “…We first met long before the society’s ways separated us – first grade. At that time, there were no popular kids’ groups, or anything. I was just Rachel and she was just Quinn…”  it’s high school and Rachel and Quinn are best friends, even though mainly outside high school, seeing that they each have their circle of friends.

A/N: Rachel’s POV only in the first chapter/prologue. Quinn’s POV only in the last chapter/epilogue.

A/N2: I incorporated the episodes on my multi-chaptered fic titled Cheaters in this fic, because it fitted. So I apologize anyone who has read the fic.


 Part 5

The sun came down while the girls discussed various party options. For every suggestion that Quinn made and Rachel accepted it as a good idea, Quinn felt her heart clench a little more. She wanted to help Rachel, but she didn’t like what she was helping her with. But, for the sake of being a good friend – because that was all that Quinn could be to Rachel – she helped her out.

Despite Quinn’s personal feelings, Finn was good to Rachel. He loved her and he wouldn’t hurt her. Quinn tried to get her strength from that. If nothing else worked, the motivation that Rachel would be happy was enough.

The brainstorming of ideas was so intense that Rachel genuinely jumped when her eyes met the window of Quinn’s room and she realized it was already dark.

“Damn. What time is it?” Rachel asked, hurryingly reaching for her phone.

“Do you have somewhere to go?” Quinn naturally asked. She felt a pang on her stomach as she realized the answer, by herself.

“Shit” Rachel mumbled, looking at the screen of her phone “I had it in silence, I didn’t hear him calling”.

Quinn pursed her lips as she saw Rachel jump to her feet, dialling Finn’s number, and wait for him to pick up. The blonde stared sadly at Rachel’s back, while she heard her – in a sweet, soft voice – when he picked up.

“Hey. I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you call… I lost track of time. Yeah. Okay, I’ll be right there”.

And in a minute, Rachel was gone, hurrying towards her house, because Finn was waiting. And Quinn was left alone in her bedroom, miserable, because she knew that Finn – despite everything – was better for Rachel than she was.



Rachel spot Finn’s car as soon as she turned to her neighbourhood. He was inside the jeep, parked on the side-walk in front of Rachel’s house, obviously listening to one of his CD’s; maybe The Doors, or Rolling Stones. He was that kind of guy.

Rachel parked by his car, passing her tongue through her lips, preparing herself for what was coming. Finn should be pretty mad at her for leaving him waiting for an entire hour. But she wasn’t definitely prepared for what Finn really was.
“Do you have any idea how worried I was?!” Finn jumped out of his car, the door shutting behind him, heavily. Rachel could see how his face was turning red with anger and frustration.

“Finn…” she tried, calmly.

“I called you a million times. There was nobody home. I called all of your friends. Your car was gone” as he enlisted everything, he gestured expressively “for all I knew you could be down the river or something”.

Rachel pulled a face, instinctively “Finn, please, don’t over react. I’m sorry I worried you, but it happens…”

“Rachel, where the hell were you?”.

“I was at Quinn’s house, we were just talking… Finn, please let’s go inside” Rachel pleaded, fearing a scene in the neighbourhood.

“Quinn’s house? Quinn Fabray’s house?!” he asked, incredulously, as he let her drag him inside the house.

“Yes” Rachel answered, naturally, closing the front door behind them and signalling him to get to the living room.

“What were you doing there?” he asked, with a weird face.

“We were talking, I already told you” Rachel answered, exhaustedly.

“What’s the deal with you and that girl anyway?” he asked. He would normally try to be more sensible talking with Rachel, but his anger was still pulsing in his blood “inside school you barely speak to each other but outside…”

“You’re just friends, that’s all” Rachel answer, shrugging.

“How come you are friends with Quinn?” he asked, pulling a face.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” all of Rachel’s comprehension – because he had been worried and everything – evaporated, and she was raising her voice, starting to get mad.

“Quinn isn’t the type of people you would be friends with” Finn commented, gesturing.

“Well, first of all: she’s obviously the kind of person I would be friends with because I am friends with her and second of all you don’t even know her” Rachel defended.

Finn stared at her, a little sardonically “I know enough”.

“What that’s supposed to mean?” Rachel repeated, getting angrier and angrier at the second.

“She’s like every other cheerleader. She’s just like Santana” he shrugged, dismissively.

“She’s nothing like Santana” Rachel made clear “and if you don’t know her, don’t you start assuming things”.

“Whatever” Finn answered, obviously tired of the conversation “I just can’t see how you two can be friends”.

“Well, we are and we have been long before I ever met you” she sent, in a cold tone.

Finn stared at her, raising one eyebrow “what is that supposed to mean?”.

“It means that she knows me better than you do and it’s kind of ridiculous that you are questioning my friendship with her” Rachel continued, pressing her finger against her chest to make the point more clear.

“Well maybe I would know you better if you didn’t shut me down so much!” he cried back.

“What are you talking about?”.

“Well, for starters, Quinn. Apparently you are BFF’s and you haven’t once mentioned her to me. Second of all, your dads. You think I don’t notice? Even if I didn’t notice that they are never around, I would notice the sadness in your eyes every time they are brought to the conversation. I’ve told you everything about my family, I told you about my grandmother’s cancer, I pealed my heart out, and you don’t even fucking tell me that you are sad because your dads work too much!”.

Rachel was speechless, firstly because her dads being brought up to the conversation was overwhelming and second of all because the recognition of what he was saying was painful, it felt like a sushi cooker was chopping her stomach into tiny pieces. He was right. He had given everything and she had given him nothing.

The tears started to fall before she could stop them. She was disappointed at herself; she was sad both for herself and for Finn.

Finn seemed slightly taken back by Rachel’s tears but he didn’t soften up.

“I’m sorry” she managed to mumble, between sobs.

“Don’t be sorry. Do something about it” Finn said, softly “I’m here, Rachel. I’m your boyfriend. I love you. I want to be here for you”.

Saying that, he turned on his heel, and left the living room. Rachel heard the front door closing, after he got out.

When Rachel’s phone rang – only seconds after that – Rachel really pondered about not picking it up. But, once again, as soon as she read the name on the screen, she didn’t hesitate in taking the call.

“Hey, you left your wallet here” Quinn’s nonchalant voice felt weird to Rachel’s ears. She reminded herself that Quinn didn’t know anything that was going on.

Rachel sniffled “it’s okay. You can give it to me tomorrow” she managed to reply in a broken voice. Quinn immediately understood she was crying.

“I’ll be there in five minutes”.


Sometimes breakdowns happen after a not-that-significant event. And Rachel found out that in that night.

Everything that she had been feeling the past couple of months – her insecurities, her fears, her guilt, her problems; her parents, Quinn, Finn – boiled together and spilled, in the form of uncontrollable tears and sobs.

When Quinn arrived to her house, she made her go upstairs to her room, in a comforting calm way. It wasn’t usual that Quinn was the one comforting and Rachel the one being comforted, but both took their roles so naturally that it would appear that Quinn was always the calm, rational one and Rachel the sensible and emotional one.

Quinn let Rachel talk. The blonde herself had not much to say, but she somehow felt that the simple fact that she was there for Rachel, that she was listening, made some difference. She let Rachel babble – it was mainly about Finn. For the first time, Rachel confessed that she didn’t feel what she was supposed to feel for her boyfriend and she also admitted that she felt guilty about it.

Quinn’s advice about that part of Rachel’s angst was simple – break up with him – but she didn’t feel like it was the right time to express that. She felt like Finn was something Rachel had to figure out for herself how to handle, and she didn’t want to force any ideas to her. If Rachel decided to keep dating Finn, Quinn could just stand by and let them be.

Rachel’s eyes were red and swollen but Quinn couldn’t help but to see a beautiful special girl before her – and she knew she didn’t look good when she cried. That must really be love, she figured, as Rachel sniffled.

Naturally, almost without thinking about it, Quinn’s hand reached for Rachel’s brown hair. She ran her fingers through a lock of perfect hair in perfect casually waved hair, undoing a natural curl. Rachel wiped her tears with the back of her hand, without really seeming to notice what Quinn was doing. When Quinn reached the end of Rachel’s lock of hair, she slightly pulled it, curling around her index finger.

“You’re so beautiful” Quinn’s words made their way out of her mouth without her having to think about them; and, more weirdly, when they were out, Quinn didn’t regret saying them.

Rachel pressed her lips together, feeling a new wave of tears watering her eyes.

And then Quinn didn’t thought about what she did.

In all of Quinn’s life, she had been pondered, controlled. She always succeeded in sending to people the image of herself that she wanted people to have, and that took careful planning of her actions. Her poise was much more important than expressing herself – she had learned that from her mother.

And now, when Quinn thought about it, what did all the image control had done for her? She had friends who didn’t know her for what she was – they knew her for what she put off to be. Guys were the same thing, attracted to her dragon-girl style, instead of her real personality.

The only person who really knew who she was – and really loved her for that – was Rachel Berry, and, if Quinn thought about it, Rachel was the person whom she had revealed the most. The person who she didn’t feel the need to put up an image; the person who never made her plan her actions. The person whom she could just be herself around.

So, at that moment, Quinn decided that thinking about – controlling – her actions was not worth it. 

Hence, putting all reflections aside, she just did what she wanted to do – what she felt like doing.

Leaning forwards, her fingers still playing with brown hair edges, she searched for Rachel’s lips. She did it slowly, because every breath of Rachel scent made her heart beat faster and harder, and because she was yet to acknowledge Rachel’s reaction.

Rachel didn’t know what was coming, even when Quinn’s lips were so close to hers that she could feel her warm breath. She simply couldn’t register what was happening, because it was all too overwhelming and confusing and unexpected.

When the contact finally happened, Quinn felt like she couldn’t breathe any longer. For a split of second, Rachel just stood there, motionless, action-less, speechless. And for that split of second, Quinn felt a terrible wave of fear drowning her inside.

And then Rachel’s hand grasped Quinn’s arm, which was just beside her, supporting Quinn’s leaned body, pressing the girl closer to her.

The kiss was so gentle, so careful, that it seemed like Quinn was worried about breaking Rachel’s lips. But the soft brush of lips was enough for the girls to feel something that they had never experienced before.

When their heads parted, only for mere inches, both girls stared at their own reflection in the other’s eyes.

Their lips met again, this time more ardently. Rachel leaned her head to the side to adjust to Quinn’s. Her long-bottled craving resulted in her biting Quinn’s lower lip, who gasped, giving Rachel the perfect opportunity to sweep her tongue inside her mouth.

It was incredible how could something so soft emanate such electricity in both girls’ bodies.

Their tongues touched, slid, swept, tasted, explored without any reservations. Quinn’s tongue flickered in an unusual way and Rachel registered how that had made her breathless. Quinn was leaning forwards more and more, and now Rachel was practically carrying both their weights.

When Quinn’s lips unglued from Rachel’s and travelled left, towards the sensible skin below the brunette’s ear, Rachel’s hand rested in Quinn’s back of neck, anchoring her to her body. Quinn’s lips were frenetic – trying to grasp every little taste of skin.

Rachel felt such desire she had never experienced before and, when Quinn’s hit the spot on her neck, she couldn’t help a moan from falling through her semi-open lips and letting her head fall back.

Rachel’s moan was music to Quinn’s ears who couldn’t help but to want – at any cost – hear the pleasuring sound come out of the brunette’s voluptuous lips again. Using her sleight of experience, she searched for another spot in Rachel’s neck and sucked it, running her tongue over the inflamed skin. She succeeded in making Rachel moan once again, and this time, the sound was accompanied by a general trembling on the brunette’s body.

How could something so banal both girls had experienced before could feel like it was stopping the world and it was stopping their lives?



Quinn looked at the book Mr Sullivan had made them buy over a month ago – a poetry book. She remembered how she had despised it – the entire month. How could be possible that, out of nothing, those words she before had characterized as cheekily confusing had suddenly gained meaning to her?

Mr Sullivan was some pages back, making them read a poem about the country side. Quinn had skipped a few pages and her eyes curiously wandered through the lines.

And passion, unattended, is a flame that burns to its own destruction.

She felt shivers as she recognised the truth about that affirmation. She folded the edge of the page, before closing the book, for some reason.

Getting out of Mr Sullivan’s English literature classroom, there was only one thing in Quinn Fabray’s mind. Rachel. Her obsession. Her destruction.

For Quinn, school had stopped being the place for learning, or for talking to her friends, or for teasing every guy – including professors – on the building. At least that wasn’t what she woke up expecting.

School was now the opportunity for lingering, meaningful looks. Neither of them dared approach each other inside the school’s building, but they contented themselves with observing each other. Quinn lingered her eyes because the combination of chocolate eyes and tanned legs was mesmerizing; Rachel because she just liked how Quinn moved.

The biology class went from being the place where Quinn and Rachel joyfully chatted, laughed and teased each other for the place where they both exchanged glares and mysterious smiles.

But the school day was only the building up for what happened next, outside school, in Rachel’s or Quinn’s bedroom.

Firstly, both girls silently agreed on trying it again – they wanted to make sure that what they had felt the first time wasn’t just novelty, and that was proved after some other meetings. As much as Quinn tasted Rachel, she never got over her first sweep of tongue after a long day of craving for it. As much as Rachel left marks on Quinn’s neck, she never got over the feeling of satisfaction by the blonde’s groans.

The meetings became very frequent – whenever they could – and the feeling didn’t wear away; it lingered and if possible got stronger and stronger.

“Can I get you a beer?” it was a tall, handsome, blonde guy approaching Quinn, just by the Santana’s couch, where a couple was shamelessly harassing each other. He had to yell to make himself heard over the music and he barely was.

Too bad he hasn’t brown hair, Quinn thought, she had been really into brown hair lately.

“How tall are you?” she asked, with a provocative smile on her perfect lips. He smiled back, mistaking it for flirting.

“6’3” he proudly answered her.

“Too bad” she said, before turning around and leaving him there, confused. She had nothing against his height, but she liked to play those games. The truth was that Quinn was simply not wanting any guy at that moment. She was just mean enough to make each one of them think that it was for personal reasons.

She made some rounds on the party. She stopped occasionally to chat up with some friends and to be the centre of attention of some guys, but she didn’t expect more of the night. Santana’s parties weren’t fun when she knew that Rachel wasn’t going to be there to watch her dance or – now that they had broken the physical limits – to bring her upstairs to Santana’s parents’ room and it turned out that Quinn knew that Rachel was spending that Friday night with her dads, watching a movie. She was happy for her – she knew how much Rachel treasured those rare moments she spent with them – and she didn’t wish for anything else.

Quinn’s purpose about coming to the party was simple: have some innocent fun, assist some “dirts” that would be certainly circulating around school the next Monday. Then she would go home, curl up on her sheets and fall asleep thinking about Rachel. It was the most banal of plans, but that didn’t stop it from being appealing.

“Quinn!” she heard a highly reprehensive tone behind her which made her turn around, with her eyebrows raised. Maggie stood there, with Santana, her hands thigh around her waist, as if mad “what are you doing ignoring Rob Rivers?”.

“Who’s Rob Rivers?” Quinn nonchalantly asked, as if she was asking if it was raining outside.

“Just the hottest guy in town!” Santana claimed, excitedly, her brown eyes twinkling creepily.

“And how come I am ignoring him, if I don’t even know who he is?”.

“You were just talking to him. I could see you just blew him off” Maggie continued, displeased.

“Wait, who is he again?” Quinn asked, looking around the room.

Maggie sighed, before pointing out, shamelessly, the blond guy Quinn had asked how tall was.

“Uh, yuck” Quinn said, more because she knew it would annoy her friends.
“Yuck?!” Santana repeated, scandalized “yum! Do you know he has a bike? I really cool one, I mean”.

“Great, a boyfriend attached with eminent death. That’s just what I want” Quinn said, sarcastically, rolling her eyes for dramatic effect.

“Quinn, it’s Rob fucking Rivers, you can’t just blow him off like that!”.

“Look, if you are so in love with him why don’t you go for it?” Quinn told them, indifferently.

It turned out, all the girls needed was permission.


As Quinn’s lips slid along Rachel’s jaw line invoking a series of pleasuring shivers through the brunette’s body, all she could do was trying to maintain her ability to breathe. It was so intense and it felt so… good.

Quinn’s fingers brushed against Rachel’s jeans waist occasionally teasing the buttons. On previous occasions, Quinn had gone as far as to unbuttoned them, but Rachel knew the cheerleader wouldn’t go farther than that, at least for now.

Rachel tangled her hand in soft blonde hair, pressing Quinn closer to her. Quinn didn’t resist and, slowly, Rachel lied on Quinn’s bed, with Quinn on top of her.

Someone tried to enter Quinn’s room, but since the door was locked, all he/she could do was to announce their presence “Quinnie?” despite the nickname, the voice that came from outside Quinn’s room sounded slightly indifferent and cold. Mrs Fabray, Quinn’s mother, awaited for her daughter to open the door.

Quinn jumped to her feet immediately, as Rachel did too, walking towards the window. Somehow, her shirt’s top buttons had become undone without she even notice it. She only had a moment to admire Quinn’s knack, because it was urgent to compose herself back again. Both girls were completely aware that they were flushed and guilty-looking, like two kids caught doing something they shouldn’t be doing.

Quinn checked her hair on the mirror before looking over her shoulder to confirm Rachel was ready. Then she opened the door.
“Mother” Quinn cried, as if she didn’t already know who was outside.

Mrs Fabray wasn’t the queen of warmness. She stared at the daughter with raised eyebrows, before looking around the room, to make sure no one else, but Rachel, was there “why did you girls have the door locked?” she suspiciously asked, giving Rachel a look from head to toes, which made the brunette feel intimidated.

“Hum… we were just trying some clothes on” Quinn quickly answered, as casually as she could.

“Hum” the woman – an exact copy of Quinn only older and a little “stretched” here and there – replied, still glancing around the room “I just wanted to remember you that you promise you would have dinner with the Ford’s tonight”.

Quinn pulled a face that could only be interpreted by her having completely forgotten about that fact “yes” she replied, heavily “the Ford’s tonight”.

“Be ready by seven, alright? And wear that lovely dress I bought you” the woman asked.

“Yes, mother” Quinn answered, slightly worn out.

“Rachel” Mrs Fabray mumbled, before leaving, nodding slightly. Rachel smiled back.

It wasn’t an unknown fact that Quinn’s mother wasn’t Rachel’s biggest fan. Personally, she hadn’t anything against Rachel, but the fact that Rachel came from a working-class family – of two fathers - who lived in the suburbs always had bothered Mrs Fabray. Despite that, she kept her thoughts about the subject to herself, but showed them in the cold way how she always greeted the brunette. It didn’t bother Rachel anymore; it served as one more thing to admire about Quinn: even with the education she had, she managed to be a good person by herself.

When Quinn closed the door behind Mrs Fabray both girls held their breath until they heard her high heels against the stairs.
“My mother, cockblock of the year” Quinn announced, annoyingly, pulling a face.

Rachel laughed, sweetly, smoothing the fabric on her shirt “it’s okay. I have to go anyway. My dad said he would be home for dinner. I should be there to witness that he is not”.

Quinn sent her a compassioned glare and then said “if you need company, you know who to call”.

“I thought you had the Ford’s dinner” Rachel remembered her, and Quinn pulled another face, smacking her palm against her forehead.
“I keep forgetting that!”.

Rachel laughed, picking up her purse and walking close to Quinn to smack her on the lips.

“You do know my mother is trying to set me up with Gary Ford?” Quinn asked, half-amused.

“From a good family, good-looking – which means pretty babies – aspirations to become a lawyer…” Quinn related “ugh, he’s my father!”.

“Sounds like a good deal for you” Rachel commented, dryly, searching for something inside her purse.

Quinn stared at her, amused hazel eyes “are you jealous?”.

“Yes. Gary is hot” Rachel said ironically to provoke Quinn.

Quinn staged a silent laugh, ironically, pulling Rachel by her arm to give her a last kiss – which she happened to be the master of; no one could receive one of Quinn’s last kisses and just go back to their lives without having her on their mind.

“Right” Rachel said, a little breathlessly, when they parted. Quinn smiled to herself, proudly.

When Rachel threw her hair over her shoulder, right before starting to walk towards the door, Quinn noticed a little mark she had on her neck, and couldn’t help but to smile widely by seeing it.

Rachel noticed it and curiously looked at her “what?”.

“Nothing” she answered, firstly, but then saw Rachel’s puzzled expression and continued, with a thick southern accent “apparently I like to brand my woman”.

At first Rachel didn’t understand but then realization slowly hit her and she made a dash for Quinn’s mirror.

“Quinn!” Rachel cried, as she upsettingly stared at the hickey the blonde had given her.

“It’s not my fault you bruise easily” Quinn laughed, relaxed.

“Finn’s going to notice it!” Rachel continued to cry.

“Oh, what’s the big deal? Maybe he thinks he did it. Besides, you are giving me hickeys all the time; my friends actually think I have secret lover. Which I do, obviously. But they think it’s a guy”.
“Well, you don’t have a boyfriend, so you can go around getting hickeys from whomever you want. I can’t” Rachel insisted, madly “and I’m pretty sure he remembers what he did or did not do”.

“Relax, you can cover it up with make up. Don’t be such a drama queen” Quinn rolled her eyes, reaching for her foundation and casually giving it to Rachel.

“I really wish you were more careful” Rachel said, her chocolate eyes reflecting Quinn.

Quinn smiled sweetly, leaning to brush her lips against Rachel’s “you know you like me dangerous”.

Part 6

Love should never be that hard - Part 4

Love should never be that hard
Author: girlnamedclark
Rating: PG for the first chapters, eventual PG-13 and NC-17
Length: 43227~the entire thing
Spoilers: not really. mainly AU
Summary: “…We first met long before the society’s ways separated us – first grade. At that time, there were no popular kids’ groups, or anything. I was just Rachel and she was just Quinn…”  it’s high school and Rachel and Quinn are best friends, even though mainly outside high school, seeing that they each have their circle of friends.

A/N: Rachel’s POV only in the first chapter/prologue. Quinn’s POV only in the last chapter/epilogue.

A/N2: I incorporated the episodes on my multi-chaptered fic titled Cheaters in this fic, because it fitted. So I apologize anyone who has read the fic.


 Part 4

That time she was so lucky in finding someone home that let her in to Rachel’s house. Instead of that, she sat on the Berry’s front steps, patiently waiting for Rachel’s – or anyone’s – arrival. Patience was not a virtue that Quinn effortlessly had, but she was trying, very hard.

Her bag - unusually heavy by the content Quinn had thrown in there to be prepared for making up with Rachel – was firmly placed at her side, in the steps. Quinn crossed her arms and waited. And waited.

Rachel’s neighbourhood was pleasant, Quinn discovered. It was very… familiar. She liked that. In her neighbourhood the only time her parents talked with their neighbours was to say something bad about another neighbour. Now, sitting there, having an out-of-body-experience – it was almost as she was watching herself watching the neighbourhood – Quinn could see how the business man arrived home, waving friendly to the other man, mowing his lawn, just to be greeted by an adorable little girl who ran into his arms; on another house she could spot two house-wives, lazily having tea on a little table at their front porch, and Quinn just had a feeling the subject of their joyful conversation wouldn’t be what the neighbour X had done to his wife; cars – generally mini-vans – slowly came home from work, often slowing down to greet a neighbour, while still inside the car. Suburbia was not that bad, Quinn decided, right there.

The whole point of observing her surroundings – apart from burning time – was to distract her from what she knew was happening: she was waiting for Rachel and the brunette was surely with her boyfriend. Quinn was trying at all cost not to focus on that truth. She wanted to make things good with Rachel – and she knew jealousy was bound to make that more difficult.

Finally, a black Range Rover stopped in front of Rachel’s house. Quinn dropped her eyes to the floor because she didn’t want to watch them. When Rachel finally left the car, it disappeared, along the road, and Quinn so wished that fact would linger, for the long eternity.

When Quinn finally stood up and allowed herself to look towards Rachel, the brunette was walking in her direction, eyebrows hardly furrowed in suspicion and confusion.

“Hi” Quinn greeted and, before Rachel could say anything, she added “can I talk to you?”.

Rachel went pass her, with her house keys on her hand, and she stuck them inside the lock, unlocking the door. Then she looked back, holding the door open for Quinn “come in”.


It almost hurt Quinn’s hurt that Rachel was so forgiving. Not that she didn’t appreciate it; but because she didn’t know if she, herself, could be like her. Rachel was a genuinely kind person: she cared about people and things; it broke her heart to see anyone crying – live or on TV; Quinn knew that because more than once she had caught Rachel looking away of someone who had lost their fiancé to war in Oprah; she liked to cheer up people, she liked to be there for them; she wished everyone the best and she couldn’t stop herself from helping anyone that asked her to.

Quinn couldn’t help to shred some tears – which immediately succeeded in melting Rachel’s heart – and then she showed her what she had brought to her: a photo – because Rachel was always complaining she had only one photo of the two of them together -, the CD she knew Rachel had been meaning to buy and then something else, who firstly Rachel didn’t understand quite what it was – it appeared to be a simple folded napkin from the cafeteria – until she opened it and she saw Quinn’s handwriting on it. It said “Quinn Fabray owes you one”.

Rachel inspected that curiously, frowning confusedly “what’s this?”.

“It’s a coupon. It’s basically a compromise that whatever you would like me to do for you, I’m obligated to comply”.

“What kind of things?” Rachel asked, excitedly, already imagining the never-ending concerts she could drag Quinn to, because no one else wanted to go.

“Big things. Like… if you need me to help you get rid of a body, use it. Kill someone, rob a bank with you… I don’t want you to waste that in something banal, I mean like a real favour. Something that I would really not want to do, but I’ll have to, if you use that coupon”.

With a thoughtful smile, Rachel carefully folded the piece of paper again. She decided to save it for a better occasion. Quinn stared at her, unsure.

“Too cheeky?” she asked, worriedly.

“Just enough” Rachel laughed.

Quinn smiled, because – apart from getting Rachel back – she had just proved herself that she could be a person and, when it mattered, she could sensible.

That night Rachel discovered that Quinn would only haunt her dreams when she was mad at her. Not that Rachel wouldn’t dream about her when they were back to being friends – because she did – but now Quinn was just a pleasant subject to dream about, and not a nightmare that made her wake up drowning in sweat and wondering why that was so hard for her.


“ABBA?” never such an inquiring tone sounded so mocking to Rachel’s ears, as her boyfriend inspected her CD collection.

“For cultural research” Rachel defended herself, amused.

Finn didn’t turn around, still bend over the CD storage “of course” he mumbled, casually. Then he reached for a particular album “ah ah!” he exclaimed, triumphantly, finally straightening himself up, having picked what would be their background music for that little make out meeting.

“What have you got there, boy?” Rachel asked upbeat, while sitting over her bed and casually smoothing the fabric of the dress she was wearing.

“The offspring” he said, already opening the CD box and spinning the metallic CD on his index finger “you know, this is their best record yet…”.

Rachel gasped, raising her eyebrows meaningfully. Finn seemed slightly taken back by his girlfriend’s reaction and studied her, curiously. He wasn’t like Finn hadn’t date other girls before Rachel, but – as Rachel was his first real girlfriend – he was still trying to figure… that out. Rachel was a real girl, in opposite to the other girls Finn had gone out with.

“What?” he asked.
“I’m not going to kiss you at the sound of punk”.

“Oh. Not romantic?” he asked, eager to learn everything there was to learn “what do you suggest, then?”.

“I don’t know…” Rachel muttered, dropping her eyes to the floor, in that way Finn knew meant she knew exactly what she wanted to hear, but she didn’t want to boss him. He smiled to himself, bending down again to search for another CD.

“Alanis Morissette?” he suggested, then, and he saw the immediate approval in the sweet girl’s eyes. He didn’t hesitate in putting it on. It felt a bit too girly for him, but if it was what his girlfriend wanted, then he was fine with it.

When the CD was finally playing, he slid from the opposite side of the bed until he was at the centre of it, patting the smooth comforter by him, trying to allure Rachel closer. Rachel smiled shyly, but slowly complied. Finn’s arm involved her shoulders, and pressed against him and Rachel felt the pleasant warmness his body eradiated.

“Can I ask you something?” she asked, carefully.

If he seemed surprised, he didn’t let it show on his voice “sure”.

“How come did you date Santana?”..

Santana was so not the subject Finn wished he was discussing at that moment “what about her?”.

“She’s not exactly… like me. You know what I mean?”.

“Believe me, I do” if Rachel looked up at that moment, she would see a fool smile spreading in Finn’s lips.

“So?” she insisted.

“She is really not my type. The superficial, high maintenance, bitchy girl… I had enough of them” Finn tried to explain, without really lingering on the subject.

“And I am?...” Rachel tried.

“You are” Finn said, now smiling so strongly that Rachel could feel his jaw muscles tense over her head.

“Good” she said, simply.

“Do you want to make out now?”.


Finn had been being very careful with Rachel. Not a virgin anymore himself, though, he didn’t want Rachel to ever feel pressured, specially being her still one. So he had tried – as hard as he could – to let his respect show through his delicate actions during their make out sessions. It wasn’t the first time that the both of them had been alone, in one of their bedrooms, when the entire situation seemed propitious for something else happen. Finn had used all of his strength not to ever inquire Rachel about it, when they were getting intimate, because he knew that if he asked and she wasn’t ready yet, she would feel pressured, which would never end up in something good. Either she dumped him because she thought he only wanted to have sex with her or she would give in, not being prepared, and he also didn’t want that to happen. As much as he wished – craved – for Rachel’s body, he was going to wait until the small brunette herself suggested it.

So, when Finn was on top of her, Rachel comfortably lying on her back against the fluffy mattress, and her dress started sliding up, because of their movements, Finn would respectably stop to let Rachel compose herself back again. Finn’s hands would explore, but with restrictions. And when Finn was getting a little too… hot – which happened frequently – he would pause for a moment – maybe go to the bathroom, or just take a break from the entire too overwhelming fun.

All in all, Finn was proud of himself of what a gentleman he could be, if he set his mind to. As any other seventeen boy, it wasn’t easy, but he managed to go throught, because having Rachel in the long run was much more appealing than momentary satisfaction.

But he couldn’t help that momentary satisfaction from popping into his brain, now and then. And it he was what Finn was thinking, when an inopportune bell rang, from downstairs.

“I should get that” Rachel said, as she pushed Finn’s chest so that his lips would unglue from hers. It took Finn’s clouded brain a moment to take that in and then he shook the momentary satisfaction off his head, jumping to his feet “I should go to the bathroom”.

As usual, Rachel walked to her window to look downstairs at the front lawn to see who was at their door. She could see Quinn’s light blonde hair pulled on an informal ponytail, and an impatient blonde, who rang the bell again.
“Hey” Rachel opened the door to the cheerleader, slightly breathlessly from frolicking down the stairs.

“Hey” Quinn casually said back “so I’m back from the mall” she lifted her shopping bags to signal that “and I wanted to show you what I got”.

“Okay” Rachel said, lightly “show away”.

Quinn stopped, looking at her suspiciously, and then trying to see anything inside the house “you’re not letting me in your room?” she asked.

“Oh!” Rachel shrieked, amused “Finn’s here”.

“Finn’s in your room?” Quinn repeated. Why couldn’t she hold the jealousy? Please. Please, control yourself, she pleaded herself.

“Yeah” Rachel answered, naturally.

“Oh” Quinn said, simply, devoid of any emotion. Then she made herself get back together and in a cold, but polite way, she continued “am I interrupting anything?”.

Rachel didn’t understand the real content of the question. Or maybe she did, but didn’t show it, because she looked back, as if she was looking for someone inside the house “yes, you kind of are”.

“Sorry, then” Quinn continued, enable to shake off the cold hint in her tone.

“Why don’t you come by tonight?” Rachel asked, smiling friendly “bring your new stuff so that I can approve or, more likely, not-approve”.

“I can’t” Quinn immediately answered, before she could think about it “I have plans” such a big lie. Unless sitting in her dark room looking at the ceiling of her bedroom trying to shake the disgusting image of Finn and Rachel together constituted a plan. It wasn’t a plan, it was a routine. Quinn had been doing that much too often, lately.

“Oh” Rachel seemed disappointed. A beat passed, without anyone talking. Again, Rachel looked back, as if making sure no one was there to here them. Then she leaned closer to Quinn and lowered her voice “is everything okay, Quinn?”.

“Hum?... sure” Quinn answered, shrugging dismissively “why?”.

“I don’t know, you seem…” Rachel started but wasn’t able to finish her thoughts. Mad at me for some reason, she wanted to finish, but she knew that would only cause Quinn to get defensive, and Quinn was exhausting when defensive. But that Quinn was slightly annoyed with Finn, Rachel had no doubt about it.

“Whatever, Berry. We’ll see each other when we see each other” Quinn finished, already backing towards her car.

Quinn was already turning on her car when she noticed Rachel hadn’t yet come inside her house; she was still at the door, looking at Quinn’s car, with a sad or confused expression. It broke Quinn’s heart. Quinn breathed in, before rolling the car’s window down “I’ll be here after dinner” she told and couldn’t help the feeling of joy that spread around her body when Rachel smiled.

Rachel consulted her kitchen’s clock. Almost ten pm and neither of her parents were home. She sighed. At least she wasn’t alone, for a change.

Tea for Quinn, coffee for her. It was always like that. Quinn despised coffee; Rachel couldn’t live without it.

After both cups were prepared, Rachel brought them upstairs, where the cheerleader quietly waited in her bedroom. Opening the door with her back, Rachel backed inside her room, placing the platter over the bed, by Quinn’s side.

Quinn rested the architecture magazine she was reading just behind her, as if she didn’t want Rachel to notice she was reading it; it was automatic, she didn’t even thought about it.

Rachel noticed it, and sighed “I think we should talk about that”.

Quinn held her cup of tea bellow her chin, blowing slightly “what?” she asked, genuinely confused.

“That thing you have for architecture. It’s almost like you think it’s a sin that you like it” Rachel explained, gesturing the hidden magazine.

“It’s nothing. I just happen to like to look at your magazines when I have nothing else to do. It’s not a big deal” Quinn defended herself, shrugging dismissively.

“Well…” Rachel started, slowly, reaching for her coffee “is it something you might consider doing? I mean, in the future, professionally?”.

It was brief, but Rachel caught it. For a quick moment, Quinn stopped and actually considered that. And Rachel could swear she saw satisfaction in Quinn’s expression, but then, that idea was quickly shook aside, when Quinn pulled a face “no. You know my parents. They want me to become a doctor or a lawyer”.

“Well, it’s not like you want to try to make it as an abstract artist. Architecture is a solid major. It’s well paid for…”

“You know my parents. They wouldn’t care for that” Quinn cut, trying to finish the conversation.

“So?” Rachel dared, her eyebrows slightly raised in a provocative way.

“Tuitions. Money. Parents” Quinn explained, defensively.

“Right. But you are their daughter. They wouldn’t disown you just because you want to be an architect”.

Quinn was getting very much tired of that conversation. She knew what Rachel was getting at; her parents intolerance and – even though she knew it better than Rachel did – she couldn’t help but to feel defensive of them “but who said I want to become an architect? I didn’t”.

Rachel felt how Quinn was starting to take that personally so when she continued, she did it more softly, so that the blonde would understand she wasn’t trying to attack her family, she was just asking “but… do you want to be a doctor? Or a lawyer?”.

Quinn looked up to meet Rachel’s chocolate eyes. She couldn’t help but to feel calmer by that action, because what she saw in the brunette’s eyes wasn’t judgment; it was concern “I don’t know” she mumbled, more sweetly, pursing her lips together afterwards and falling into a thoughtful silence.

Rachel always thought she was very “zen” about performing in public. She always thought she wouldn’t be nervous because, until about fifteen minutes before she actually stepped on stage, she wasn’t. But, as soon as reality sunk in, and she realized she was just about to expose herself to the entire William McKinley students’ body, the nerves started getting to her.

The hubbub of the students coming inside the auditorium was clearly heard backstage and it only made Rachel’s heart beat faster and her palms sweat even more. When the nerves started building, Rachel knew only one thing that could take her mind of them and it constituted on sitting on the dusty couch, closing her eyes and thinking about something – someone – more empowering than the nerves. She tried Finn. It seemed like the logical thing to do; Rachel would almost feel bad if she didn’t try him. But it didn’t work. And, as much as it hurt her, she had to think about something else that meant more to her to be able to calm herself down. There was another obvious choice; the one Rachel had been using in every of her previous performances. Quinn.

The image of a strong-outside, soft-inside girl, with beautiful locks of blonde hair falling effortlessly on her shoulders and sweet smile made Rachel’s body instinctively relax. Knowing that she was outside felt like a reassurance of Rachel’s talent. Quinn had been the first one to ever tell her she had a talent – when Rachel hummed along to the music they both were listening in her walkman – and she had been the biggest supporter of Rachel’s dream to sing for a living.

Strange, Rachel thought, how someone with such conservative expectations for herself has nothing against Rachel trying as a singer in the world. Somehow, Rachel felt that Quinn was living the adventure through Rachel, because she knew that her parents would never allow her to do something like that.

Rachel stood up, feeling significantly calmer. She took her bottle of water and gave three sips of its content – a tiny ritual before performing. And, with Quinn on her mind, she stepped into the stage to sing

Conversation and laughers filled Quinn’s room, at eleven pm. Rachel was almost afraid to do something different from what she had been doing the entire night, because this was the best Quinn and her had gotten along in a long time. It felt so natural that Rachel wondered how they weren’t like that more often. And then she remembered life. Because Quinn and Rachel were very good – by themselves, isolated from the rest of the world. But when the world stepped in, that was when things went south. And that was exactly how they had been getting along so well that night: they managed to be just Quinn and Rachel. Not Rachel with the boyfriend, or Quinn the cheerleader and Rachel the not-cheerleader. They were Quinn and Rachel.

It was a hard thing to do, to isolate themselves from the world, but somehow that had just naturally happened in that room, without the two of them even realizing.

That, until Rachel, as unintentional as possible, left a name slip. Finn.

“God, I so not invited you here to be talking about your boyfriend” Quinn said annoyingly, curling in her sheets, with her back turned towards Rachel.

Rachel was, too, bellow the sheets of the bed, even thought it hadn’t been established if she was going to sleep in or not. She leaned towards Quinn body, supported by her elbows firmly in the mattress, to look at Quinn’s angelic face “I’m sorry” she laughed “it slipped”,

“Yeah, well, I’m tired. I’m going to sleep” she said, gruffly, but not really mad.

Rachel studied Quinn’s face attentively “can I sleep here?”.

“Do whatever” Quinn said in her most cheerleader-ish indifferent tone, but her wish firmly closed in her heart.

Rachel smiled, for some reason. Then she leaned back, lying in her back in Quinn’s bed. Quinn was the one closing the bed-side table lamp, condemning the room to comfortable darkness.

For a while, Rachel lied there, looking at Quinn’s ceiling, thoughtfully, and aware that Quinn was awake as well. She felt like she should say something. If there was anytime to say what she felt, that would be the time. But what would she say? She wasn’t even sure of what she felt. She knew it couldn’t possible be regular, because she had never fought, hurt, cried and suffered that much with, because, about Kurt, Mercedes or Tina.

Then she heard Quinn’s sigh – which meant she had officially started trying to stop to think and wanted to fall asleep – and Rachel promptly readjusted herself against Quinn, one arm over her waist. What did it matter what that was, when it felt so beautiful?

Outside cinema was one of the Rachel’s favourite things. And specially when it was such a pleasant evening as that was.

They were sitting on the grass; Rachel leaned on Finn who set his arm around her, protectively. Finn was more passionate, Rachel more friendly.

Finn whispered, some time in the middle of the movie “Rachel?”.

“Hum?” if she wasn’t thinking about something else – someone else – she would have noticed his tone and have anticipated what went next.
“I love you”.

“I love you too” never words tasted as dry as those for Rachel. It wasn’t at all how she had imagined the first time she said them.


Her friends were very excited to hear about that step Rachel and Finn had given. It actually hurt Rachel that they seemed more excited about that than she was which, apparently, wasn’t difficult… since that afternoon, she hadn’t be able to shake that discomfort feeling of her chest; she hadn’t liked, at all, saying those words, without meaning them.

But Finn was so great. If Rachel stopped to think objectively, he had every quality she would ask for her ideal man. But, if so, why couldn’t she just… feel it? How was it possible that she couldn’t even blame Finn with one flaw but still not to feel love for him? And if he was her perfect man, what did it mean that she wasn’t in love with him?

“Dear God, Rach, if you don’t want that gorgeous boyfriend of yours please set him free so that one of us could appreciate him” Kurt said, jokingly, but the truth to that sentence affected Rachel.

“I want him” she smiled, as convincingly as she was able.

Her friends smiled back, interpreting her lack of expression as something of shyness they hadn’t yet seen in her friend. But then again, they had never seen her in love, and love, sometimes, manifests itself in strange ways.

“You are so cute together” Tina commented, sipping her milkshake. Mercedes stared at her jealously, because, being in a diet, Tina’s big appetite was torturing to her, especially because the girl didn’t seem to put on a pound with all the junk food she ate.

“And he is such a gentleman too” Tina stated, wisely, and then he raised her eyebrows meaningfully “because let me tell you, Rach, some of us weren’t as lucky as to find such great guys and I know, from experience, that those who respect your boundaries and your time are very, very few”.

“As he even mentioned?” Mercedes jumped in, curiously, leaning over the lunch table.

“Sex?” Rachel made sure, before continuing “briefly”.

“What about?”.

“We talked about him not being a virgin. He lost his virginity at 16 which I, somehow, found a little… intimidating” Rachel replied, shrugging.

“Well, he’s a guy, they lose their virginity sooner than girls” Mercedes said, expressively.

“Well, who do they lose them with?” Rachel asked back, rhetorically “but don’t you think I’m fooled about the fact that I’m the only finalist who’s still a virgin. The problem is not that he lost his virginity when he was 16, it’s that I didn’t”.

“Correction, you’re the only attractive finalist that is still a virgin” Mercedes made sure to make clear.

“And it’s not a problem that you’re still a virgin. 18 is a perfectly good age to lose our virginity” Tina commented.

“And I think it’s sweet that you were really trying to find the right person to do it with” Mercedes said, looking around the table “we know that we all rushed it, and, sometimes, it didn’t go as well because of that”.

“And now you have Finn” Kurt noticed, leaning his head to the side “it was worth the wait”.

Rachel was bothered by the fact that all of her friends seemed to be completely convinced that Finn was the one who she was losing her virginity with. She was bothered by the image of in love they were imposing on her. She didn’t feel like she should act in love just to satisfy them; they were her friends, she should and must be able to go to them and to reveal her insecurities about her real feelings for Finn. But, for some reason, she wasn’t – at the fear of disappointing them – and so she smiled, as if she was completely convinced that Finn was the one who she was losing her virginity with too.

That night, she cried herself to sleep. She wasn’t really sure why she felt that way, but she couldn’t help it.

Mr Sullivan surprise paper for the next day wasn’t – needless to say – well received by the students who frequented English Literature in the first period of the afternoon. Quinn was amongst them and – even though Mr Sullivan had shown to be a competent teacher and had, in various occasions, shown to be worthy of respect from Quinn – she felt like she could jump at him and break his Harry Potter glasses. Apart from only giving an afternoon to get the paper finish, there was also the fact that Quinn had Rachel had planned spending together that afternoon – thing that Quinn knew was a once in a month happening, due to him – and now she would have to cancel and wait for the next time he had a doctor appointment.

But Rachel wasn’t an easy person to cancel things with. After Quinn fully explained to her that she would have no time to talk to her and pay her any attention because she really had to deliver a good paper to maintain her A at English, Rachel still insisted on going by Quinn’s house.

“I can help you” Rachel said, smiling amused.

“No you can’t; you can distract me, and I know that”.

Rachel didn’t give in and Quinn – because the prospect of losing her afternoon with Rachel wasn’t so appealing either – eventually did, after making Rachel swear she wouldn’t intentionally distract her.

Rachel stocked herself with some magazines before going to Fabray’s house and she was fully convinced she would perform her part of the deal. But then, laying by Quinn’s side in her bed – because Quinn apparently always studied and wrote papers over her bed, something that Rachel could never do – Rachel couldn’t make herself be interested in the article about a trip to Rome. And Rachel was the kind of person who usually was interested in travelling stories, being her dream to travel around the world.

But… Quinn Fabray, comfortably adjusted against a pile of pillows, knees bent and notebook over it, pen on her right hand, dress slightly rising exposing bare, perfect legs… it was very attention catching. Carefully, Rachel set her magazine aside and for a while she just stared at Quinn, doing everything she could not to reach out for her skin. It was almost… too overwhelming. It was so strange that she could feel that way just by staring at someone, when she couldn’t feel like that when Finn was holding her or kissing her.

Quinn didn’t want to be disturbed, Rachel told herself over and over again, to prevent her hand from doing that exact thing, travelling on Quinn’s long legs. It was proving to be very hard.

“Quinn, I’m bored” Rachel mumbled, leaning her body against Quinn’s bent legs.

Quinn looked up, pressing her lips together – to show annoyance and to cover a smile – and sighed “I told you”.

“How are you doing?” Rachel asked, hopefully, looking to Quinn’s notebook, upside down.

“I’m almost done, but I need you to let me finish” Quinn said, sweetly, because it was hard to blame Rachel for her impatience when she was feeling the same – or even more.

“Okay” Rachel complied, looking down, slightly mournful “can I do something?”.

Quinn looked around the room despairingly. Something to entertain Rachel.

“You can…” Quinn was sure what she was going to suggest yet, until her hazel eyes dropped on her new baby-blue nail polisher “paint my toe nails. Do you want to do that?”.

For some reason Rachel seemed cheered up by that. She immediately started working. Toe by toe, slowly and carefully, she applied the polisher. Then, when the first layer was done, she waited until it dried off and then applied the second layer. Finally, she proudly stared at her work – it was perfect. Rachel had a lot of training with nail polishers and it was obvious by the impeccable pedicure she had just done.

It didn’t take long to Quinn realize that she had made a mistake. So desperate she was about getting Rachel something to do so that she could concentrate herself on her paper, she completely forgot to analyze what the job she had given to the brunette implied.

Rachel’s soft hands – definitely not manly – carefully touching Quinn’s sensitive feet, Rachel’s warm breath against the skin and then her soft blow to dry the nail polisher.

From the first minute Rachel started, Quinn had completely lost the ability to concentrate on her work or even to think about anything else but Rachel’s proximity.

“Done” Rachel finally stated, obviously proud of herself.

“Great. Now be a good girl and just wait five minutes” Quinn told her, relieved.

Rachel’s smiled fell immediately off her face “more?”.

“Rachel!” Quinn shrieked, impatiently “I told you I had to get this done…”

“You said you were almost finished” Rachel moped, like a little girl.

I would have finished already if you weren’t here, distracting me with your simple existence, Quinn thought, but did not say.

Finally, Quinn couldn’t take it any longer. She rushed the two last paragraphs, and then closed her notebook abruptly, slightly annoyed at herself for not being able to concentrate and slightly annoyed at Rachel for being so distracting “okay, I’m done”.

Rachel immediately sat up, like a little puppy, ready to play “cool”.

“What do you want to talk about?”.

“I actually wanted your advice for something” Rachel said, and Quinn should have noticed her guilty tone, because then she continued “it’s about Finn”.

Quinn’s eyes were rolling long before she commanded them to do it.

“Quinn” Rachel plead, reasonably “I realize we don’t talk about him, but I really need your help on something. Plus, we are friends; I should be able to come to you for this kind of things”.

Even though Quinn would never admit it, Rachel’s speech had pointed out some valid arguments. Still, she rolled her eyes once more “what’s up?”.

“His birthday is coming soon. What should I do?”.

“You’re asking me?” Quinn raised her eyebrows, meaningfully “you’re his girlfriend, not me”.

“Yeah” Rachel shrugged, continuing “but what should a girlfriend do for her boyfriend’s birthday?”.

Quinn bit her lip. She was aware why Rachel had come to her – she really was the best person to be asked this kind of things because, besides of being very boyfriend-experienced, even if she didn’t know what to do, she would always have Brad to ask – but she was really having mixed feelings about helping Rachel on this.

“Rachel…” Quinn mumbled, pressing her palm against her forehead, in an exhausted way.

“Quinn, why are you like that every time that I mention him?” Rachel asked, expressively “do you not like him? Because I don’t think you really know him, at all”.

“It’s not that I don’t like him…” Quinn started, knowing that she was lying “it’s more that…”.

As Quinn left her voice disappear, Rachel stared at her, waiting for the continuation. It didn’t come.

Quinn pulled a face, and then sighed, deciding to go in another direction. She could feel Rachel’s attentive brown eyes almost trying to read her mind “you know how you got mad when me and Puck happened? It’s the same thing”.

“I got mad because I felt disappointed. You don’t even like Puck. Finn’s my boyfriend, I really like him. It doesn’t apply” Rachel corrected, quickly, as if she had rehearsed that argument before.

“Well, weren’t you mad because you were kind of…” the last word Quinn pronounced was said in such a low and unsure tone, Rachel couldn’t understand it.

“Jealous?” Quinn’s eyes were now firmly stuck on the comforter, avoiding Rachel’s.

“Because of Puck?!” the idea was so ridiculous Rachel couldn’t help but to laugh “I despise him”.

“Not Puck, me!” Quinn said, starting to get really impatient.

Rachel’s before arguing face was now drowned in realization of what Quinn was saying and confusion. She paused “jealous of Puck because he was with you?”.

“Yeah, I’m saying that you were jealous because I was with him. You know spending time” Quinn quickly explained, so that there wasn’t any confusion about what she meant “you know, because I admit I’m jealous you spent so much time with Finn”.

“Oh. Okay. It’s only healthy, right?” Rachel asked “we’re close and guys take us time from each other”:

“Exactly” Quinn jumped in, so that Rachel could know that that was all she meant, she didn’t mean jealous in any other way.

“So that’s your problem with me dating Finn?” Rachel made sure, lifting an eyebrow.

“Yes. That and…” now that Quinn had started, she couldn’t not finish it “do you love him, Rachel?”.

Rachel couldn’t help but to completely and absolutely blush at the question. Even if she tried to hide that fact – which she didn’t – she wouldn’t be able, because Quinn captured it from the moment it started. Rachel decided she wasn’t going to answer – she didn’t know how well she could lie to Quinn – but the blonde was waiting for an answer.

“I don’t know”.

“The way I see it, people know if they love other people” Quinn’s annoyance transpired in her tone.

“It’s soon, you know?” Rachel’s voice was much more careful and softer than before “I don’t think I love him. Yet, at least”.

“I know you don’t love him” Quinn replied, without hesitating “I can see it when you talk about him… you don’t talk about him like you talk about… music. Or your dads. I can’t feel or practically taste the passion you have. I can’t feel it”.

Rachel’s mind was blank, as she stared at Quinn’s lips, which moved effortlessly. She didn’t stumble with her words; she got them out perfectly articulated and clear.

Despite everything – despite their different circle of friends, despite their fights, despite the limited time they spent together – Quinn was, and always had been, the person who knew her the best.

“If I don’t love him, then why am I still with him?” the question wasn’t meant to be sassy or sarcastic, Rachel was really trying to get an answer from Quinn, because she felt like Quinn could tell her more fearlessly that she could admit to herself.

But Quinn chickened out. She wanted to answer because you’re afraid of loving me. But she didn’t. She looked down and then back to Rachel’s brown eyes “you really like him”.

Rachel looked down. She was feeling tears tickling her eyes, threatening an appearance. They had been so close. They were so close. But none of them was brave enough to state the truth. None of them was brave enough to act.

“A surprise birthday party” Quinn finally suggested, slightly moving away from Rachel

Part 5


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