Eight year old Rachel Berry sat in front of the mirror on her dresser, brushing out her hair before bedtime like her dads had taught her so she didn't get tangles while she slept. She had a hard time conjuring a smile tonight. She'd had an awful day at school and they'd had to go to Nana's house for dinner which meant she had to see her twin boy cousins, Alexander and Jeffery who were every bit the tormenters that her classmates were, sometimes (like tonight) worse.

At the end of every stroke of her brush she sighed deeply. The nightly ritual which was usually therapeutic for Rachel just wasn't helping at all tonight. Her complete absence of friends was starting to get to her... actually it well past starting to, but now she was struggling to deal with her disappointment.

In spite of herself, she was beginning to believe the things people said about her. Not the thing about her going to hell for having gay fathers, she was Jewish and didn't believe in hell. But eight years without a single friend was beginning convince her that there was something wrong with her, that she was a freak.

"You're not a freak," she told her reflection.

"You aren't a freak," came another voice, one Rachel didn't recognize. She looked around startled, trying to find the source but seeing only her empty bedroom. She looked back to the mirror but instead of her own face she saw the face a beautiful blonde woman who was smiling at her with all the love in the world in her eyes. Rachel sat silently petrified. She felt like she should scream for help but for no reason she could explain she just… didn't.

"You aren't a freak, Rachel," the woman said, "You're special."

"T-that's what my dads always say," Rachel said.

"I know," she said, "And they're right." Rachel wanted to smile because it felt wonderful to hear someone else say those words to her, but she was still too petrified about the idea of some strange woman looking into her bedroom. "I know you're freaked out about this," she continued, "but you don't have to be. You were just sitting and worrying about whether or not you are ever going to have any friends."

"A-are y-you...?" Rachel wanted to ask if the lady was her fairy godmother because she was definitely pretty enough to be and this whole thing seemed pretty magical, but though Rachel loved fairy tales, she was realistic enough to know there wasn't any such thing as fairy godmothers. "How do you know all of that?" Rachel asked finally.

"Because one day, years from now, on the first night we... after a really big night for us, you're going to tell me all about this conversation."

"Because we're friends?!" Rachel asked excitedly.

"Because we're much more than just friends," the woman says.

"Best friends?" Rachel smiled brightly and steepled her fingers under her chin.

"Yeah," she said, "Best friends."

"Yay! This is so exciting! Where do we meet? When do we meet? Oh, wait, what's your name so I know you when I see you?"

"My name is Quinn Fabray-B...um... Fabray, Quinn Fabray, but unfortunately it's still going to be a couple of years before we meet and even then it will be a couple of years after that before we really become friends."

"What? Why?" Rachel's excitement came to a shuttering halt.

"Well, for right now my family hasn't moved to Lima and when I do..." Quinn stops and huffs out a breath, "when I get there, I'm going to be really mean for a long time and I wish there was something I could do to change that but there isn't."

"You're going to be just like everybody else?"

"Yes," Quinn says softly, "She doesn't really mean it. The other me. The one you're going to meet soon. She's just scared of... well, a lot of things, really and she reacts badly. I'm so sorry, Rachel."

"What if I try being extremely nice to you when we meet?" Rachel asked suddenly resurgent in her hopefulness.

"You can certainly try," Quinn says, "Your persistence and determination will be two of my favorite things about you... eventually."

Rachel sighed again and sat back against the chair, "If you're going to be mean to me before we become friends, then you better be an exceptionally good best friend later."

"I try very hard to be," Quinn said, "I do my best to make it up to you every night."

"Are you the maid of honor at my wedding?"

Quinn smiled and bit her bottom lip. "I, um, I definitely wouldn't and didn't miss the chance to stand next to you at your wedding. You looked amazing that day."

"Thank you," Rachel smiled back at her, "I'm sure you did too. You're so pretty."

"Thanks," Quinn said, "Listen do yourself a favor and don't tell the other Quinn about this right away because there's no way she'll believe you."

"When do I tell you?"

"I don't want to say too much," Quinn said, "When you told me you said you weren't sure it the right time but that it felt right, so if I tell you the date that it happened then I might put too much pressure on you on that day and I don't want to change that night, not in the slightest. It's not until after high school, I'll tell you that much."

"Do we go to college together? Are we roommates?"

"I think that might be saying too much, too," Quinn says, "We see a lot of each other during our college years."

"So I guess saying if I make it on Broadway or not would be saying too much, too?" Rachel asked with a sly look.

"Far too much," Quinn said, "I wish I could tell you more but..."

"Can't risk a paradox," Rachel cut her off, "That could tear a hole in the space-time continuum and destroy the whole universe."

Quinn was already chuckling, "Our dad really start you out on Back to the Future early."

"It's his favorite," Rachel replied, "And did you call him 'our dad'?"

"Oops," Quinn said, "Um, yes, they will come to think of me as part of the family... eventually, and I don't have a dad of my own, or won't have by that time. So I call them Dad and Daddy just like you do."

"Do I tell them about this conversation?"

"I think they believe that you dreamed all of it," Quinn said, "but you wrote it in your journal so you know you didn't."

"The journal that Nana got me for Hanukkah last year?"

"I haven't the faintest clue," Quinn said.

"I don't keep a journal," Rachel said, "I suppose this when I start."

"I suppose," Quinn replies, "And with that I'm not answering any more questions. I'm sorry that you're so lonely, Rachel. I'd give anything to change that. I'd give everything to make younger me not be a butt to you, but I can't. Just remember that it gets better, okay?"

"Okay," Rachel said.

"Keep your chin up, you attitude positive, and..."

"Never let them see you sweat," Rachel says with a smile.

"And one the first day of high school, bring a change of clothes with you to school and keep them in your locker," Quinn said, "You'll be glad that you did."

"Why?"

"Just trust me."

A knock at the door startled Rachel who had been lost in her own world. Rachel glanced away from the mirror to the door where her Daddy had poked her head in to tell her that it was time for bed. She acknowledged him before she looked back to the mirror. Unfortunately the only thing she saw was her own reflection. "Daddy," she called to his retreating form.

"Yeah, pumpkin?"

"Could you bring me a glass of water, please?"

"Of course," her daddy said and disappeared back out the door.

Rachel looked back to the mirror and said softly, "Good Night, Best Friend Quinn. I'll miss you."