My first ever attempt at femslash, because goddamn, Fabrastings deserves some attention.


Her name is right before Spencer's on the attendance sheet, and that's the first thing that bothers her about Quinn Fabray.

She's so used to being right after Peter Edminson that she says "here" at the same time that Quinn does, and then everyone's staring at her and a few people giggle.

"Spencer, I know how much you love getting ahead with your classwork," Mrs. McCarthy says, "but if you could wait for your own name to be called, that would be great."

Her cheeks burn and there's more snickering. "Sorry, Mrs. McCarthy," she mumbles, sinking a few inches lower into her desk.

"Let's try this again. Quinn?"

"Here," the girl responds, her voice soft and clear, and Spencer throws a glare in her direction.

"And…we already know Spencer's here…Dan?"

Quinn either hasn't noticed Spencer scowling at her or she doesn't care. Her eyes are straight ahead to the front of the room, her expression calm and composed, and Spencer hates that. She also hates it when Quinn knows the correct answers all four times the teacher calls on her, because they're two months into AP Chemistry and nobody should be that smart on their first day.

By the end of class Mrs. McCarthy couldn't be more pleased with the new student, and Spencer is absolutely glowering.


She explodes the second her ass hits the bench at their table in the cafeteria, ranting about Quinn and roll call and all the science-y things she knows and how much of a teacher's pet she is.

"And then I spent the rest of class glaring at her," she finishes, using more force than necessary to rip open a bag of salt and vinegar potato chips.

Hanna grins. "You stared at her for forty minutes?"

"Glared, Hanna. Glared. Different."

She exchanges a mischievous look with Emily and Spencer huffs.

"You guys weren't there, you don't get it! She was being all confident and smart and perfect…"

Aria raises an eyebrow. "Spence…aren't those all good things?"

"Well yeah, but—"

"If she was a guy," Hanna interrupts, her head tilted thoughtfully to the side, "I would think you had a crush."

"She's not a guy and I still think you have a crush," Emily says. "Is she pretty?"

Spencer glares at them both. "I do not have a crush, and no, she's not."

Emily's gaze shifts to the front of the room. "Wait, that's not her, is it?"

They all turn to look and Spencer rolls her eyes; Quinn's standing just inside the doors with a paper-bag lunch, looking around for a place to sit.

"Yeah, that's her."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Spence. She's beautiful."

"Shut up, Em."

"I wonder if she's made any friends yet?" Aria says. "We should invite her to eat with us."

Spencer whacks her in the shoulder. "Are you kidding me?"

"Hey, Quinn!" Hanna calls out, waving until she sees them, and the other blonde heads in their direction.

"Un-freaking-believable," Spencer mutters, staring determinedly at the tabletop.

"Um…hi?" Quinn greets a few moments later, her tone shy this time, and Spencer smirks to herself.

"We're friends with Spencer," Aria explains, gesturing to her. "She told us you're new. Do you want to sit with us?"

Quinn smiles. "Oh…hi, Spencer. I didn't see you there."

Spencer finally looks up and gives her a half-hearted wave. "Hey." Aria elbows her. "Yeah, you should join us," she continues in what she's sure is an extremely flat voice. "There's plenty of room."

Hanna moves over right on cue and suddenly there's an empty seat directly across from Spencer. Quinn takes it and starts unpacking her lunch: a PB&J, an apple, and chips.

Salt and vinegar chips.

Spencer stops chewing and moves to hide her own bag but Hanna catches on.

"Wow, Spence. I thought you were the only person on the planet who liked that flavor."

Quinn looks from Hanna to Spencer's chips to her own and then smiles. "I guess it's nice to know you're not alone in the world, huh?"

Spencer forces the corners of her mouth to lift a little.

"I'm Aria, by the way, and this is Hanna and Emily," she says, gesturing to each of them.

Quinn nods. "It's nice to meet you all."

"So," Emily begins, "do you play any sports?"

She shrugs. "As a kid I did a lot of dancing and gymnastics. I was a Cheerio at my old school."

Hanna frowns. "You were breakfast cereal?"

Quinn laughs. "No, that's what we called cheerleaders. What about you, are you guys into anything?"

"I'm on the swim team," Emily replies, "and Spence plays field hockey."

Quinn looks at Spencer with admiring eyes. "That's amazing. I don't think I'm tough enough for field hockey."

"I agree," she starts to reply but Aria stomps on her foot before she can get the words out. "Nah, you'd be fine," she says instead before chomping on a chip extra hard, and suddenly an idea hits her. "We have practice after school today if you want to try it out."

She lights up. "That sounds fun."

Spencer can't help but agree.


She has two other classes with Quinn—AP History and AP French—and once again Quinn proves to be adept at both. Spencer doesn't glare at her, though, because she just keeps thinking about field hockey practice this afternoon and how she can't wait to show her a little friendly competition.


When Spencer sees Quinn walking out onto the field, all decked out in mix-and-matched spare equipment, she has to stifle a laugh.

"You ready?" she calls out and the other girl nods, her helmet slipping a little with the momentum. "All right everyone," she says to the rest of the team, "This is Quinn. She's gonna hang out with us today." She smirks. "Don't rough her up too badly, okay?" She turns to Quinn. "Fabray, you take left D. Everyone else, usual positions. Let's go!"

They set up and begin the scrimmage. Spencer's at midfield and the left forward passes her the ball immediately, and she dribbles through the other players with adrenalin rushing through her veins; this sport is hers, not Quinn's, and there's no way she's going to let a newbie win this one.

She barrels toward the goal at full speed, lowering her shoulder as a warning for Quinn to stay out of her way, but when she passes her and winds up to shoot, she realizes the ball is gone. She stops abruptly and looks around and realizes that Quinn has it.

The girl turns to her, shrugs, and then passes it to someone else.

The rage from this morning returns with a vengeance. Spencer streaks toward the goal again and again but Quinn steals the ball away each time, and now her teammates are getting impressed. Finally she can't stand it anymore and on her next possession she practically ignores the ball as she lowers her shoulder again, this time planning to give her a firm nudge out of the way. Right before contact Quinn twists out of the way and their feet get tangled, and as Spencer flops onto her back and all oxygen leaves her lungs, Quinn lands on top of her.

She's breathing heavily, her eyes wide with worry. "Are you okay?"

Spencer just coughs a few times.

Quinn takes off her helmet and then gently does the same for Spencer, and when she's met with an unrestricted view of Quinn's mussed hair and sweaty forehead, her vision nearly goes white.

"Oh god," she groans, coughing again, and then there's a hand on her cheek.

"Spencer? Did I hurt you?"

Now she laughs. "You wish."

Quinn smiles and gets off of her, then helps her up, and Spencer's surprised by how strong the girl's grip is.

"Again!" she yells and they start the play once more, and this time she hip-checks Quinn and sends her sprawling into the grass. "You alright?" she asks, unable to stifle the challenging smirk on her face as she offers her hand.

"Yeah," Quinn replies and Spencer pulls her up.

"Now we're even," she says to Quinn, but as she turns to the rest of the team, she hears Quinn's voice behind her.

"Not even close."

She whips around and sees that Quinn's expression is identical to her own: fierce, confident, and daring.

They spend the rest of practice knocking each other over, each trying to get the other to quit first, until finally the co-captain ends the scrimmage. They all head to the locker room with Spencer and Quinn trailing the group, both of them significantly more exhausted than the rest of the girls.

"See you in Chem," Spencer pants, glancing at the bruises already forming on the girl's arms. She's sure her body looks the same.

"Remember to wait your turn during attendance," Quinn replies, sounding equally breathless and quirking an eyebrow at her before departing to her car.

It's the first time Spencer's ever been so angry and still had a smile on her face.


The next day Spencer doesn't mess up roll call and she knows without even looking that Quinn is smirking too. The class watches in awe and confusion as they battle to answer the most questions, and Mrs. McCarthy nearly gets whiplash looking from girl to girl every time their hands shoot up.

When the bell rings, Ethan Miller nearly jumps out of his seat and walks up to Quinn.

"Hey, Quinn. Do you, uh—do you wanna catch a movie on Friday? Maybe go out to dinner or something?"

He's confident but his voice shakes just a little and Spencer lingers at her desk, waiting for her to answer.

"That's really sweet of you, but no thank you," she says without batting an eyelash and walks away, right past Spencer and out the door.

Spencer follows her while pretending not to follow her. "Why did you say no?" she asks when she catches up, "Ethan's one of the most popular guys in school."

Quinn simply shrugs. "He's not my type."

"What's your type?"

She tosses Spencer an unreadable smirk and walks away, and Spencer hates that.


She runs into Quinn in the bathroom and for the first time today notices her long sleeves, an odd choice of clothing for a sunny day. She knows the exact reasoning behind it, though, because she's wearing long sleeves too.

They wash their hands at the same time, one sink between them, both looking straight ahead into their respective mirrors.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," Quinn says, glancing at Spencer's reflection.

Spencer quirks an eyebrow, turns off the water, and pulls up her sleeves, watching Quinn's eyes as they examine the bluish-purple shadows along her arms.

"Wow," she says, her gaze lifting to Spencer's, "I did quite a number on you."

Spencer yanks her sleeves back down. "Your turn."

Quinn exposes her arms and Spencer sees that her bruises aren't as bad, but they're scattered all over the place.

"I gave you more."

Quinn snorts. "Yours are darker."

Spencer crosses her arms. "Doesn't matter."

Quinn simultaneously smirks and raises an eyebrow, a look that nearly knocks the breath out of Spencer. "So you're a quantity-over-quality type, huh?"

Spencer swallows. "You're not?"

Somebody comes into the bathroom and she jumps at the intrusion, which pisses her off even more. She whips around with a "Do you mind?" at the back of her throat, but then she realizes that it's Hanna.

"Hey, guys," she greets with a smile.

"Hey, Hanna," Quinn replies without missing a beat, her tone light and pleasant, and Spencer wants to punch her in the face.

"Hey, Hanna," she echoes, but she forces the words through gritted teeth and glares daggers at her friend.

She glances between Spencer and Quinn for a few moments and her eyes narrow just a little. "I'm…gonna pee now," she mutters and disappears into one of the stalls.

Quinn's trying to stifle a smile. "I'll see you at lunch, Spence," she says before leaving the bathroom, and Spencer stares at the door as it closes behind her.

There's a loud flush and Hanna emerges from her stall and begins to wash her hands. "So," she says, grinning playfully as she grabs some paper towels, "She calls you Spence now?"

"Shut up," she grumbles, her eyes still on the door, and she hates that she kind of can't get Quinn's smirk out of her head.


At lunch Quinn sits with them again and holds Aria, Emily, and Hanna in rapt attention as she tells them stories about her old school—the cheerleaders, the slushies, and some stupid singing club.

"I'd kill to slushy you," Spencer mutters under her breath, earning a glare from Aria, but she just glares right back.

"Hey, Spencer," Quinn says, "The co-captain…Lindsay, I think? She told me I should come to practice again. She thinks I'm really good."

Everyone smiles and congratulates her but Spencer remains frozen.

"Are you serious?"

Quinn nods. "Yeah."

Emily gives her a look. "Spence, come on. It's awesome news. You guys can be on the team together."

Spencer stares at her for a second longer before leaving the table and making a beeline for the bathroom, her fingers clenched into fists and her pulse hammering through her veins. She feels like she's about to explode, and if she doesn't find a way to burn off all of this anger, she's probably going to.

She clutches the edge of the sink like she's dangling off the edge of a cliff, trying to take even breaths, but all she wants to do is scream.

And then the door opens and Quinn is there, and a jolt goes through her body.

"What are you doing here?" she demands, turning to face the girl, but she doesn't give her a chance to respond. "This is mine—my friends, my classes, my field hockey team, my school."

Quinn takes a few steps forward and Spencer grabs her by the arms and pushes her until her back is pressed against the sink. "Stay away from me," she grits, and then Quinn's gaze dips to her mouth, and then Spencer's mouth is on her mouth, and she's not sure when that happened.

Spencer presses her harder against the porcelain and Quinn lets out a gasp of pain. Their kisses are fiery and violent and nothing like when she kisses Toby, and when the feels teeth biting her bottom lip she nearly growls.

Suddenly Quinn grabs a fistful of her hair and yanks down. Spencer groans but then there's lips and teeth and a tongue attacking her neck and she forgets all about the pain in her scalp. Quinn sucks particularly hard on one spot and Spencer gropes around the girl's waist, looking for the hem of her shirt, and when she finds it she pulls it up and over Quinn's head. She glances down and sees several bruises on her torso.

"You bitch," she murmurs against her lips, "You were holding out on me."

Quinn laughs into her mouth. "Maybe I was afraid someone would walk in on me half-naked."

"How do you know someone won't walk in now?"

"Maybe I locked the door when I came in."

Spencer's hands are all over her bare skin. "I hate you," she breathes against her ear, and chills shoot down her spine when she feels Quinn nibble her own.

"I hate you too, baby," she purrs and then she grabs Spencer by her hips and spins them around until she's the one pinned against the sink. Her shirt is on the floor before she even registers Quinn sliding it up her body and she gasps when Quinn's fingertips ghost up and down her abdomen.

But then they dip lower, and then her jeans are being unbuttoned and unzipped, and then there's a hand slipping inside the denim. Spencer's mouth falls open in a silent groan and Quinn's tongue brushes against hers and there are so many sensations ripping through her body that she can barely breathe.

Quinn's free hand grips Spencer's thigh and lifts it up to her hip, giving her easier access to the wetness between her legs, and when a finger slips inside her eyes roll back into her head. Quinn explores for a moment before adding another finger and then she presses her thumb right into her clit and this time Spencer's groan isn't the least bit silent.

"Did you do this at your old school, too?" she manages, their mouths connecting again as Quinn moves inside of her, and the other girl smirks against her lips. She hits a spot inside of her and Spencer stifles a scream but Quinn hits it again and again and soon she has to bite the girl's bare shoulder to keep quiet.

Quinn goes faster and harder and Spencer's entire body is on fire, the heat between her legs nearly unbearable, but as Quinn's fingers work her inner walls she can feel herself getting closer and closer to the edge. "You drive me absolutely insane," she pants as her fingertips dig into Quinn's shoulder blades.

"You talk a lot for someone who's about to have the biggest orgasm of their life."

"I'm not—"

But then her fingers curl and her thumb grinds into Spencer's bundle of nerves and she stiffens for a moment before every inch of her body comes undone. Quinn trails gentle kisses along her neck as her thighs tremble through the white-hot pleasure, and it's not until her body goes completely limp that Quinn withdraws her fingers.

Spencer lets her forehead rest against Quinn's shoulder as she catches her breath and feels Quinn shift so her mouth is against Spencer's ear.

"Still put quantity over quality?" she asks quietly, playfully, and Spencer shivers.

"You have to win everything, don't you," she replies before biting the crook of her neck and spinning them around until their positions are reversed. She pushes Quinn against the porcelain just a bit harder than necessary and Quinn grunts and it's one of the greatest sounds Spencer's ever heard.

She presses their mouths together again and wastes no time before sliding her hand between Quinn's legs and slipping a finger inside, nearly coming a second time herself when she rubs circles around her clit and Quinn moans against her lips. She adds a second finger and pushes deeper until she finds a spot that makes Quinn's head tip back, and Spencer takes advantage of her exposed neck by dragging her tongue and teeth along her throat.

Quinn's fingernails dig into her lower back and the pain makes her hand clench, and suddenly Quinn's inner walls are tightening around Spencer's fingers. She lets out a breathless moan but Spencer keeps moving and the noises coming from Quinn's throat get more and more high pitched; finally she loses control and Spencer has to hold her up as the orgasm tears through her body.

When she finally relaxes Spencer withdraws her hand and wipes her fingers on Quinn's jeans. "Now we're even," she murmurs, stepping back and then turning away to pick up her shirt from the floor. As she pulls it over her head she feels Quinn right behind her, warm breath tickling her ear.

"Not even close."