Author's Note: Ok, so the general idea for this story came from californiagirlie's fic and everyone should go and read it, Storm Before the Calm, because it's awesome and my inspiration to write this story. So here goes nothing, hope you guys like it.

Disclaimer: I own zero parts of Glee.

Rachel can't look away. Her eyes must have a mind of their own because no matter how many times she tells herself to stop, she keeps on glancing sideways, towards the kitchen.

There are words coming out of her best friend's mouth, lots of words, but she keeps on forgetting to listen. It's impossible when every follicle, every nerve, every muscle in her body is on edge, struggling to control urges they're not allowed to have.

Rachel Berry is kind of a control freak; the entire William McKinley student body knows that. What they don't know is how deep it runs or how much she depends on control to survive. She's been teetering on the edge of sanity for months now and self-control is the only thing that's keeping her ok.

"Rach, are you listening to me?"

Rachel's eyes snap back to her best friend's sour expression. "Of course, Beth" she lies.

Beth stares at her for a moment, irritation pulling at her features. Rachel holds her breath in anticipation, wondering if she's about to suffer the wrath of her best friend's formidable temper. A few seconds go by and Beth's face returns to normal. She exhales a little and runs a hand through her long, sable hair "Well c'mon then, which one do you want to watch?"

She has no idea what this statement means but decides to keep going with her lie. "The first one, definitely." She nods decisively, hoping she's credibly contributing to whatever conversation they had been having.

"Really? I though you hated scary movies. But ok, Texas Chainsaw Massacre it is. Let me just run up to my room and grab it. Put some popcorn in the microwave, okay? It's in the pantry."

Rachel's eyes flick once more to the kitchen and then to the ground. "Y-yes, of course," she says quietly but Beth is already bounding up the stairs two at a time so she's talking to nobody.

Taking a deep breath, Rachel stands up. It's a strange sensation for her to be able to act on one of her impulses. Every step towards the kitchen feels wrong and she's finding it hard to execute normal functions like putting one foot in front of the other or remembering to breathe. She catches a flash of blonde disappearing around a corner and suddenly everything is easier.

Taking a bag of popcorn out of the pantry, she puts it in the microwave and sets the timer before taking a step back. Seconds pass at the speed of dripping molasses.

Thirty seconds to go and Rachel is breathing normally again. She's back in control. "Honey, you really shouldn't stand in front of the microwave like that." The combination of the familiar voice and a warm hand on her shoulder shatters Rachel to pieces.

Unable to suppress her loud gasp, Rachel clamps her hands over her mouth as she whips around. And there she is, Beth's Mom, the only person with the ability to send Rachel's world spinning completely off its' axis. The older woman stands there for a moment, an apologetic look upon her face. And Rachel just stares at her, finding it impossible to look away.

"I'm so sorry Rachel, I didn't mean to scare you." The blonde's hand is still on her shoulder and she gives it a small squeeze accompanied by a smile that drenches the younger girl in warmth. Rachel wonders how this woman can't feel the way her heart lurches at the smile, how her insides melt at the sight of her? It's embarrassing how big her love has become.

"It's…it's fine Ms…" Rachel stops. She never knows what to call Beth's Mom. Beth's last name is Puckerman but that's her Dad's last name and he hasn't really been in the picture for years.

"Please, I've told you before, call me Quinn. Ms. Fabray makes me feel old." She chuckles. Quinn, the most perfect name in the entire existence of the world. Rachel managed a smile of her own, her hand finding a strand of her own long, chestnut hair and twirling it nervously between her fingers. "So, how's school going? Beth tells me you girls are going to give a fantastic performance at the New Directions concert tomorrow night."

Rachel wants to answer but finds herself caught up, first in the caramel flecks of her irises and then the soft pout of her lips. Quinn clears her throat lightly bringing the brunette back to reality. "The concert, yes…that." The beating in her chest is becoming unbearable, a heavy ache that's starting to make her dizzy. "It's gonna be good, really good, great even."

Quinn's nodding her head patiently and Rachel thinks that she must be true to life saint for plodding through their painful conversation. "Beth said your solo is amazing."

For a split second Rachel feels like herself. "Which one? They're all executed with a tremendous amount of vocal technique if I do say so myself and of course, my stage presence is never something to be taken lightly." As soon as the words are out of her mouth she fells like an ass. Sure she likes to brag about herself sometimes and as much as she wants Quinn to see something special in her, it doesn't feel like the right way to show it. "Um, I mean…I'm not THAT great or anything, it's just…" Rachel's grasping for words but the older woman's laughter saves her.

"There's nothing wrong with being confident in yourself Rachel. It's an admirable quality."

They're staring at each other once more and it's almost too much. Rachel feels everything in that moment, the rawness of her own desire, the pain of longing for something she'll never have and the fire that this woman sets in her heart. She feels the control slipping through her fingers as her body inadvertently leans into Quinn's touch. What if she did it? What if she just kissed her?

Suddenly a burning smell is stinging her nostrils. Confused, Rachel turns around. "The popcorn!" Quinn's voice is loud behind her and Rachel manages to step aside as the microwave door is ripped open and smoke billows out into the kitchen. Quinn grabs the bag, yelping in pain at the heat. The bag hits the floor and hundreds of blackened kernels spill across tile.

"Oh my God, are you ok?" Rachel rushes to Quinn's side, taking her hand and inspecting the burn. "I'm so sorry, this is all my fault." Her hands are slender, delicate and Rachel furrows her brow at the sight of an angry red burn on her palm. "All my fault," she mutters. She leads the older woman over to the sink and turns the sink on, hesitating before guiding her hand under the gentle stream of water. Quinn's hiss of pain goes through her like a blade slicing at her insides.

"Holy shit, what happened down here?" Beth is in the doorway, her eyes widened in surprise as a smirk pulls at her lips. "It looks like a popcorn bomb went off in this place." She tries to suppress her laughter.

"Beth don't swear." Quinn's voice is softer than before. There's some emotion in there that Rachel can't quite place.

Then Rachel realizes what she's doing. She's washing her best friend's Mom's hand for her. Not only is she treating the woman like a five year old but she's completely overstepping personal boundaries. Oh God. She lets the hand go immediately; taking three steps back from Quinn and the sink. "I'm so sorry." She says again and it's almost hard to keep track of how many things she's apologizing for.

"Nonsense, accidents happen." Quinn's voice sounds normal again and Rachel ventures a glance at her. Her beautiful hazel eyes are too soft as they gaze down at her. To Rachel, it looks like pity and the thought of that stings worse than salt to an open wound.

"Riiiight, anyways, Rachel I got the movie. We don't really need popcorn."

"Um, you know, I think I'm actually going to go home now. I…I forgot that my Dad's asked me to help them with this thing this afternoon." Rachel can't stand to be there for another second. The woman she's in love with thinks she's a complete lunatic and pities her because of it. She didn't have a chance in hell with Quinn before and now the odds were simply tragic.

"C'mon, the one time I get you to watch a scary movie and you're gonna bail? That's bullshit, Rach."

"Beth, language." Rachel doesn't dare to look at Quinn again.

"I'm sorry Beth, I really need to go. I'll see you tomorrow night though, ok?"

Beth sighs. "Fine, whatever. See you later."

Rachel hurries to the door and leaves before she can cause any more damage. Getting in her car, she waits until she's a block down the street before she starts to cry. She's so damn tired. Tired of feeling so helpless, tired of embarrassing herself day in and day out, tired of treating her best friend like shit.

"Quinn will never happen." She hopes saying it out loud will make her stubborn heart believe it. But nothing changes. Her heart still feels like an anvil that's weighing down her entire body and she can still think of nothing but long blonde hair and hazel eyes.