Disclaimer: I don't own Quinn Fabray or Rachel Berry, or anything else Glee-related. They all belong to RIB. I've also never been to Scotland so you'll have to excuse any inaccuracies I may have. Oh, and this is my first Faberry fic, so please be gentle.
A.N.: I had originally written this as a Prince William fic (don't make fun of me, I just happen to have had a really huge crush on the guy plus I've always been fascinated with royals and monarchy life in general) and then as a Spashley fic (South of Nowhere verse). I never got to finish it so I decided to throw in a little Faberry into the mix and changed things up after some inspiration struck. Hope you like it!

Prologue

Quinn Lucille Fabray heartily soaked in the peace and quiet her favorite corner at the two story coffee shop off of Greyfriars Garden afforded her. Aptly and simply named The Coffee Shop, it was one of her favorite haunts. Steam from a rather large cup of black coffee fogged the window closest to her table, blurring her view of pedestrians below scurrying for cover from the sudden afternoon downpour. She had been here for about fifteen minutes now, but she had spent most of the time staring blankly at the laptop screen and racking her brains for good ideas. After a little while, an idea came to her head and she began working. Occasionally, the blonde-haired young woman would pause in the midst of her typing to take a sip of her still-warm coffee, but mostly, her fingers danced cyclically across the keyboard as letters appeared on the screen one-by-one. Quinn stretched languidly, covering her mouth with the back of her hand to stifle a yawn. She groaned contentedly as she heard her back and neck audibly pop as she twisted her upper torso and rolled her neck to work out the kinks that grew there.

Quinn was an art major, normally fascinated with historic homes and museums, but today, she wanted to do nothing but sit and reflect on her chaotic life. Well, hopefully after she got some of her requirements done.

She looked around and frowned. Her number one problem was girls (and maybe a few boys) - there were too many of them. They constantly threw themselves at her feet. And those that she did date only lasted for a couple of months. They would turn ga-ga on her when she brought them home. Some even treated her like a trophy girlfriend; the girls would drag her to public events, then brag about their princess to anyone who listened. The boys weren't any better either; they treated her in the same Stepford trophy wife syndrome the girls would, only with a bit more subtlety. Not that the slight matter of difference mattered much. Quinn hated every minute of it. She wanted someone who liked her for her, not for her title.

Her other problem was with her father. Russell wanted his daughter to get married soon, preferably by the time she was 25 or so. Quinn thought that was hardly any time to meet anybody she loved, marry, and then prepare them to accompany her beside the throne. It was too much too soon. And to top it all off, while she did enjoy her current major, she'd been doing a great deal of thinking and was now having second thoughts on whether or not she chose the right field. Whoever said college would be some of the best years of their life probably never had to live through it as a royal.

Checking the battery life in her iPod on the table next to her laptop, Quinn glanced briefly at her wrist watch. Frowning slightly at the growing lateness of the hour, she knew she had to pick up the pace and finish the last few lines of her paper or she'd have to be up all night cramming. But somehow…somehow she just couldn't get motivated to keep going. The humid warmth of the shop had practically lulled her mind into drowsiness; the practically empty coffee cup seemed to be laughing at her with its very wide mouth, its promise of caffeine-filled energy totally unfulfilled. Another twenty minutes flew by and she still had yet to come up with anything substantial to add to her report.

I guess that would be it then, Quinn grumbled inwardly. She sighed and raked her fingers through her hair to sift through the tangles. May as well pack it up and head home. Maybe a few minutes of sleep would do my brain good.

Having now resigned herself to the inevitability of having to pull yet another all-nighter, Quinn quickly collected her things and was about to round the corner of the second floor staircase's ledge when she was met with the warm softness of another young woman's body colliding heavily against her own. The contact was only brief, however, as the force of the impact sent both girls staggering back a bit and an unfortunate cup of steaming coffee to spill over and onto Quinn's favorite pair of Ralph Lauren Delfina penny loafers.

"Shit!" the newcomer - a brunette with long, wavy chestnut brown hair, and an American no doubt judging from her accent, Quinn noted - muttered under her breath. The girl lifted her head, and Quinn found herself looking into a pair of amazingly rich, and very apologetic, brown eyes.

"Oh my god, I am SO incredibly sorry!" the brunette apologized, righting herself to an upright position as she spoke. "I am such a klutz! I really should learn to start paying attention to where I'm going-"

"No, no, it's okay," Quinn, quickly snapping out of her momentarily-induced trance, cut-off the other girl in mid-apology. She offered the brunette a soft smile but soon frowned herself when she looked down and saw the growing wet splotches the liquid spill had left on her shoes.

"Oh no, I completely ruined your shoes!" she heard the other girl exclaim contritely.

Somehow knowing that the brunette would go into another apology-laden rant, Quinn put on an understanding smile and looked up, ready to appease the other girl but instead found herself unable to form words when she once again locked eyes with the beautiful brunette. Their gaze was broken by a rather loud 'harrumph!' coming from behind the brunette, who quickly gave way to an impatient-looking old man waiting on them to move. The man shot both girls a rather disapproving glare before making his way to the farthest (and most isolated) corner booth on the floor.

The coffee spill for the time being forgotten, both girls burst out into hardly controlled fits of giggles. Finally regaining control of their shared laughter, they smiled rather dumbly at one another, or more exactly, Quinn smiled rather dumbly at the gorgeous, shorter brunette in front of her. A lock of the brunette's bangs had fallen haphazardly on her face and Quinn had to hold herself back from reaching over to place the wayward lock of hair behind its owner's ear. She was once again snapped out of her trance when the brunette in question, apparently having now remembered her spilt coffee incident, mumbled another 'Oh God, your shoes!' before rushing to the nearest table and retrieving a small handful of paper napkins.

Just as she was about to crouch down to the floor to wipe away the remaining wet traces of coffee from the blonde's shoes, Quinn met the other girl half-way and softly gripped the brunette's wrist to stop her from getting on to her task.

"No, really, that won't be necessary. They're just shoes, I'm pretty sure I could always get a replacement," Quinn offered. Okay, that was a lie. Her loafers were quite vintage, which would mean she'd definitely be having a more than hard time finding a new pair if she were to indeed seek new ones out. But for some reason she just couldn't handle seeing any more worry or frown lines marring the brunette's beautiful face.

"Are you sure? I mean, those look vintage and I'd hate it if I totally ruined them for you because of my apparent klutziness," the yet-to-be named brunette breathed out.

"It really isn't that big of a deal," Quinn reassured.

"Honest? Because I'd be more than willing to pay for them-"

"Yes, really." Quinn had to smile. The other girl looked so adorably flustered that she just couldn't help it.

"Well, okay. Then, uh, um," the brunette fumbled, obviously trying to place a name. "Quinn," the young royal provided, extending her hand to the brunette who gripped hers lightly.

The brunette blushed slightly, a slight smile dancing at the corners of her mouth. "I'm Rachel," she gave the hand in hers a slow shake. Quinn's answering grin was as bright as a summer sun.

"Glad to meet you, Rachel." She quickly let go of Rachel's hand when she realized that she was staring.

"So, uh, I guess I'll be seeing you around?"

"Yes! I mean, uh, yeah. Well, I hope so," Rachel gave her a sheepish grin before waving her hand in the air. "Again, I really am sorry for the-"

"And like I said, no harm done," Quinn once again reassured her. A pregnant pause hung in the air before Quinn found her bearings. "Well, I should go," she pointed down the stairs dumbly.

Rachel nodded her head vigorously, which Quinn found notably cute. "Oh! Oh, yes. Me too. I should," she nodded with her own hand to the area behind Quinn. Both girls made a move forward but instead almost bumped into each other again.

"Right, I'll go this way and you go that way," Quinn suggested with a smile, her voice laced with amusement after another attempt yielded the same results. Rachel answered her with an equally amused grin and nodded. "After you."

They finally weaved their way past each other with success, and Rachel turned to her one last time. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Quinn," she smiled warmly. "And again, I'm really sorry about-"

"And for the millionth time, it's absolutely fine," Quinn threw back. After a beat, she added, "But yes, it was nice meeting you too, Rachel."

The wide grin the brunette gave her in return almost made her knees buckle and Quinn had to grip down on the railing beside her to keep from falling. After another beat, Rachel quietly made her way up the stairs and disappeared to one of the available tables near the window. Sighing, Quinn shook her head and took the rest of the steps down two at a time. As she wound her way around the maze of tables, she glanced back with a mixture of longing and curiosity at the staircase that lead to the beautiful vision by the corner window. She shook her head of her musings and turned back to the shop's entrance, finally making her way out into the softly falling rain and afternoon rush.

Til we meet again...