Hey guys! Long time! My apologies, still busy as fuck getting myself back up to scratch, and my muse hasn't exactly been kicking my door down. 'Scuse the language. But yes, please enjoy this next installment. For those of you who have reviewed please note that I've taken any suggestions into account and used what I think best suited the story. Sorry if I haven't replied! I'm quite scatter-brained at the best of times. In case you didn't already know I'm very much running blind with this story. I have vague plot ideas but not much else, so please feel free to submit suggestions and/or any questions you may have.

For brainstorming/updates and the like check out my fanfiction tumblr (omniobiterff)

I feel a disclaimer at this point is kind of moot, but y'all know I don't own the rights.

Santana's eyes were wide as she watched the diminutive brunette stride briskly by. She had heard screaming from down the hall and seen the other woman's tear stained face. The goings on had shocked her speechless. She and Mercedes traded dumb-struck looks across the service desk. As much as she didn't like Finn there was no way she could go in there now and give him the hard word. She would simply have to tell Uncle Georgio that Finn would be on leave for the foreseeable future. That was all she could think of to do. "Well, goodnight Nurse Jones." She said civilly, nodding at the other woman.

"And a good night to you Ms. Lopez." the other woman replied, looking as if she had just woken from a strange dream.

Santana could understand that sentiment.

Turning she walked down the same hall Mrs Hudson had moments before. Once she walked out into the sunshine her eyes scanned curiously for the other woman. She saw her waiting by the exit to her left, her head bowed as she dabbed at her face with a handkerchief.

"Mrs Hudson?" she ventured, not entirely sure she should engage the shorter woman. The other brunette looked up, her eyes rimmed with red and her make-up running.

"I'd honestly rather if you called me Rachel." she said after a moment, before looking slightly confused. "Have we met?"

"Rachel then." Santana smiled carefully, not wanting to seem too forward. "I work with your husband."

A baffled look overtook Rachel's face.

"At the lumber mill?" she asked.

"Yes ma'am. Santana Lopez, I work in the office." she stepped forward then, extending her hand in greeting.

Rachel looked confused at that, too, before reaching out with her own gloved hand to take Santana's.

"A pleasure. I actually think Finn may have mentioned you before. Aren't you the owner's niece?"

"Yes, that's me. Finn's mentioned me? My, how highly he must think of me." she drawled sarcastically.

Rachel looked embarrassed, her face showing Santana exactly the kinds of things Finn must have been saying about her. She was hardly surprised.

"I'm only joking, we've never seen eye to eye."

Rachel's surprise showed on her face as she let go of Santana's hand.

"I just wanted to see if you were ok. I heard a bit of a commotion, and you seemed upset as you were leaving."

A tiny smile worked its way onto Rachel's face. "Well thank you for your concern. I'm fine however. Just waiting for cab to pull in." she said as she gestured to the taxi rank sign stuck to the wall behind her.

"I could give you a ride if you like?" Santana found herself offering. Well, she was already late anyway.

"Oh no, that's alright. Surely you have things you need to be doing."

"On the contrary, I've nothing to do. Please, I'd be happy if you allowed me." She couldn't help it, her curiosity had been piqued.

Rachel hesitated, her eyes casting around for a cab that probably wasn't going to appear any time soon.

"If you're sure?"

"I am." Satana replied, "I'm parked over here." she said, making her way over to her car.

It didn't take long for her to navigate to where Rachel was staying. As she pulled up to the kerb she'd noticed that Rachel had relaxed more and more the further away from the hospital they'd gotten. The other woman made a move to get out of the car when the front door of the house they were pulled up in front of swung in to reveal a blonde woman. Not even waiting for the car door to open the woman was striding down the path. Rachel seemed just as eager to meet this woman half way, pushing the door open and climbing out quickly.

"Rachel!" the mysterious blonde woman exclaimed, her arms immediately wrapping around the little brunette. Santana felt slightly uncomfortable watching the embrace so she turned her head away, looking out the window.

After a moment or two she heard low murmuring before her attention was caught.

"Santana." She turned back to see Rachel peering in through the window. "Thank you for the ride home. This is my friend, Quinn Fabray." she said, smiling hugely as the blonde woman leant down beside her.

"Hello there." Quinn said, smiling charmingly. Up close Santana could see that she was very beautiful.

"Hi." she said in return, with a smile of her own.

"Thank you for bringing Rachel home." the blonde said, looking fondly over at the woman by her side.

"You're most welcome." Santana supplied, slightly mystified by what she was seeing. Rachel had been distraught and now she was grinning like she'd been given the most wonderful gift. Santana couldn't figure it out. "Well, I must be going. Have a good day." she offered.

"Of course, thank you again." Rachel said, stepping out of Santana's sight. As she pulled away she saw them walk up the path together in her rear vision mirror, their shoulders brushing as they went. How curious, she thought. But then it was also kind of wonderful.

"Rachel! That wasn't what we planned at all!" Quinn exclaimed in disbelief, worry suddenly consuming her. Her fingers twisted together, agitating their fellows.

"I'm sorry Quinn, I couldn't help it! He just made me so unbelievably angry and then he went and insulted you and I just lost it."

Her small hands came to rest on Quinn's.

"To tell you the truth it was a relief to say those things. It felt like I had a say in my own future for the first time in a long time." She soothed the blonde, stroking over the backs of her pale hands as they worked.

"He's not going to accept it you know."

"I know." Rachel replied so quietly Quinn strained to hear it despite how close they were. "But I can't bring myself to care!"

A surge of affection overcame Quinn and she cracked a smile despite herself.

Lately it had been like a Rachel that had been stored away for an age was finally coming to light again, and relishing in it.

Her hands turned, grasping Rachel's so that their palms kissed chastely. They looked at one another then, and Quinn felt that hot prickling in the back of her neck and all over her face that compelled her to lean in. Rachel's eyes were half-lidded. Quinn swallowed, wetting her lips nervously. They had skirted around their mutual interest, and Quinn had tried not to think about it. All the drama with Finn and what they were going to do kept them occupied. Except for quiet moments like the one they found themselves in the middle of.

"Rachel." Quinn murmured, praying for strength.

"Hmm?" the other woman replied, preoccupied with watching Quinn's mouth form words.

It was too much for Quinn to resist.

Her hands slid from beneath Rachel's, up her arms to grasp her elbows.

Rachel looked up at her then, her brown eyes deep with an intent that made Quinn swallow a groan.

Even as she went to close the gap between them Quinn was quite suddenly remembering her lessons in propriety. Rachel was still a married woman who, despite Finn's less than desirable character, had vowed her loyalty to her husband. With a tortured sigh Quinn turned her head, brushing her cheek against Rachel's to rest her forehead on the other woman's shoulder.

"Quinn?" she heard her say, the uncertainty clear in her voice.

But damn him, of all the things that man deserved Rachel's fidelity wasn't one of them. He had done nothing but cage her, hurt her and though is some twisted way he may have loved her it was nothing to compared to how Quinn felt.

"Rachel." she said softly by way of reply.

And then she was seeking her out, her nose pressing into her neck, trailing up to her cheek where she sought her lips. The press of them was an embrace, electrifying Quinn as it zinged down her spine, increasing her desire to the nth degree. The hot buzzing in Quinn's ears receded as she pressed further forward into the kiss. Naturally her head tilted to the side, her lips parting against Rachel's, her tongue cautiously seeking entry. And quite suddenly the soft exploration became a hungry exchange.

With each caress she could feel her desire growing. Their hands had moved to pull the other as close as possible. The feel of Rachel against her, touching her made Quinn's head spin. When she felt more than heard the other woman moan into their kiss it was like a direct caress to her most sensitive parts.

They broke apart gasping. There were no words. They looked at each other briefly before Quinn took Rachel's hand, pulling her up and into her, their lips meeting again.

On the desk behind them a crisp, white envelope lay; the fine, curving script of the letter within unread.

Dear Quinn,

It has been some time since I received a letter from you. I hope you have settled into your new home, and that you have managed to leave all that business in San Francisco behind you. Who would have thought that a young man from the church could turn out to be so rotten?

Life here has continued much as it always has. Do you remember Jessica from your year at school? She just got married to the young post master. They are such a sweet couple. I do hope you can find the right one for you soon darling. That's all I want for you, your happiness. That's what your father would have wanted, too. I know you insist on being independent and I think that's wonderful, I honestly do. It is something I could barely have dreamt of at your age. But it would warm my heart if I could see you start a family of your own!

The ladies down at the women's association have extended an invitation to me to join their monthly meetings. Apparently word of my delightful preserves has spread! If you find the time I would love for you to come and visit. And if you bring a young man with you then I would be more than happy to entertain you both! I miss having young people bustling about the house.

With love,

Your mother.

Quinn found herself especially busy in the months following her discovery of Grace's 'other life'. On top of her job at the bakery, secretarial school and church she took on a job behind the bar at the same joint that her friend worked in. After a little acclimatisation she got used to the admittedly unusual patronage. She didn't adopt Grace's style of dress however. She stuck very much to the dresses she had always worn, had always felt comfortable in. The men and women (people, Grace often stressed) who frequented the establishment were polite and kind. Quinn merely watched in fascination as the whole seemingly underground community interacted around her. And served the occasional drink.

The biggest perk of working at the bar for Quinn was the live band. Back home she had only ever seen the school's marching band play at football games. And if she were perfectly honest they didn't really play the sort of thing she liked. Jazz and The Blues though, they just seemed to ensnare her. With a glass and cloth in hand she'd lose track of time just listening to the slow, smooth melodies.

One night when they were cleaning up after closing time Grace had caught her wiping down a table, singing to herself.

"You're good Quinn."

"Oh!" she turned, a hand over her heart in an attempt to soothe its rapid beating.

"Sorry." Grace smiled sheepishly, "but I'm being serious. You could sing up there if you wanted." she gestured to the small stage.

"You're too kind Grace. I don't see how I could possibly." Quinn looked briefly over at the little platform before returning to her work.

"It'd be quite easy, really." her friend said, joining in with the cleaning. "I could just let know John know. He'd be able to fit you in for a number or two every other night."

Quinn felt her mouth dry out. "Oh, no. Really, I couldn't impose."

"You wouldn't be! I'd just ask is all."

"I don't know. I'm not sure if I could get up there in front of everyone."

"Sure you could! Besides, you know everyone loves you! You're the small town girl with pizazz, they can't get enough of you." Grace was grinning at her as she stacked chairs on the table they'd just cleaned.

A blush worked its way up Quinn's cheeks at her comment. "Well, ok. If you could say something to John I would like to try it. Just once mind."

"Great! No problems."

Quinn's debut was arranged for a Sunday evening. She'd been worrying about it all week.

As mass ended she barely bid goodbye to the pastor and the others in the congregation before she was out the door, heading to the bar. Quinn didn't hear the footfalls that echoed hers. Her mind was elsewhere, worrying about whether her dress was where she had left it in the back room. That the band was ready and that she could hit all the right notes.

It wasn't long before she pushed the swinging door open, entering the cool, dark interior of the bar. The old sign that hung about the bar was brightly lit, the dark calligraphy reading 'John's Joint'. Conversation filled the air, a low hum beneath the sounds of the band tuning up.

Grace caught her eye immediately, behind the bar in her pristine white sleeves. Her friend tossed her a little grin as she buffed the glass in her hand. Quinn returned the smile, pushing off her heal toward the door into the back room.

"Quinn?" The inquiring voice stopped her in her tracks.

Quinn wasn't silly. She knew that there were parts of her life that couldn't intersect. She had come to love the bar and all its patrons. It felt like returning home when she walked into the dark interior to hear the hiss of the brush on the cymbals, the thrum of the double bass and the airy tinkle of the piano keys. But by the same token she felt at home beneath the high, vaulted ceilings of her church. Instinct told her that the two simply could not mix. So upon hearing the voice of a young man from her congregation ring out into the bar, Quinn felt a cold sweat prickle at her forehead and down her back. She turned slowly, cautiously.

"Michael." she acknowledged. "Why are you here?" she asked him, hoping it was merely coincidence.

"I followed you. I wanted to know where you always disappeared to right after mass." He said, his bold confession not seeming to shame him at all.

Michael was a handsome boy. Tall, with a slender face and hands, a dark mop of hair contrasting his bright green eyes. His appearance however did not effect Quinn's reaction to his reasoning.

"You shouldn't have followed me. And you should leave, now." she said, coldly.

He looked taken aback, as if he was expecting Quinn would be happy that he had showed up. He made no move to listen to her however. Taking a step forward he looked around.

"What is this place?" he asked, sounding slightly mystified.

"Quinn?" she felt Grace at her elbow. Michael's chest puffed out like a courting pigeon.

"Who are you?" he asked bluntly, his brow furrowed as he scrutinised Grace.

"I think you should leave." Quinn's friend said, completely ignoring the question.

"What is this Quinn?" he said, anger sparking in his irises, the set of his jaw firm as he squared off with what he obviously saw as a threat.

"Michael!" Quinn couldn't contain her irritation. It was one thing to hold her up after the service with inane chatter. Another entirely to trail behind her and make a scene in her place of employment. "Get out!" the tendons in her neck strained beneath her fair skin as she shouted.

He looked as if he was still going to resist. His protests seemed to lodge in his throat however when a few of the regulars stepped up beside Quinn and Grace. George was a tall, broad-set African American man. His weighty presence at Quinn's left side seemed to have the desired affect. In moments Michael was disappearing behind the swinging door.

Grace's hand was immediately on Quinn's elbow, guiding her through the growing crowd and into the back room. Once they were behind the door Quinn collapsed onto a crate, one hand working over her face as she breathed shallowly.

After a minute or so had passed in silence Grace asked, "Are you ok?"

Quinn looked up at her friend, her head already shaking, tears pooling on her eyelids and threatening to slip free down her cheeks. She was scared. At the back of her mind she had always been aware that the bar's regulars weren't exactly what society deemed acceptable. At least not where she came from. She suspected that San Francisco wasn't all that different.

Grace must have sensed her distress because she crossed the room quickly, sitting beside Quinn on the crate and wrapping the other girl up in her arms. Quinn let her head rest on the other girl's chest, her arms cinching around her back. When her tears had finally dried she drew back from the embrace a little, leaving her arms in place. Grace watched her quietly, her green eyes intent.

There was something there between them, suddenly. Or at least she had only noticed it then. Quinn bit her lip unconsciously before she began to lean forward cautiously, watching her friend's face.

'This is it.' she thought.

The thing that had gone unspoken and was never discussed publicly outside of the whispered gossip of bored housewives. Quinn knew as she pressed her lips to Grace's her life would be forever changed.

Tada! Hahah. So not done with Quinn's past by the way. The next chapter is looking to be a bit racy.. but I might yet change it around. Thank you to everyone who's been reading, reviewing, following and favouriting. You won't believe the boost my ego gets when I your email alerts. Y'all are awesome. Please hang in there with me. And again, any ideas/questions etc. are totally welcome. Also, this story is still unbeta'd. I know for certain the writing needs improvement so if there are any volunteers please let me know - check out my tumblr!