The post graduation party in Rachel Berry's backyard was in full swing by the time Quinn arrived with her mother. Quinn carried the tray of cupcakes she brought to the refreshment table decked out with assortments of canapes, finger sandwiches, condiments, and buns to build one's own burger with.

Quinn made her rounds saying hello to everyone that was already there. Burt and Carole lounged by the pool, drinking some kind of cocktail. Quinn received a hug from the two adults. Kurt chatted with Blaine and Sam about goodness knows what, but she managed to squeeze past them for a hug as well. As for Finn, she found him looking through the ice chests for root beer.

"We're free now, huh? Didn't think I'd graduate, but look at me!" Finn grinned at her. "When do you leave for Connecticut?"

"Trying to get rid of me already?"

"No!" Finn huffed. "Geez, I wanted to ask if you need help hauling boxes."

Quinn smiled and kissed Finn's scruffy cheek. "I was teasing. I don't leave until early August, so I have plenty of time to spend in Lima yet."

"Cool. We should hang out a lot. And let me know if you need any help packing and stuff."

Rachel's dad, Hiram, stood behind the grill and wearing a kiss the cook apron. Leroy had a beer in one hand, his body draped against his husband's back. Quinn greeted the two men and found Rachel running away from Puckerman who was stalking her with the full and whole-hearted intention of throwing the diva into the pool.

"Noah Puckerman, you keep your hands off of me!" Rachel shrieked. She caught sight of Quinn and immediately ducked behind her. Quinn couldn't resist smiling at their antics.

"Hey, Quinn," Puck grinned. "You have somethin' I want."

"You already took my virginity. What more could you possibly want from me?" Behind Quinn, Rachel snickered.

"Nothin' much, just that hot Jew lurking behind ya."

"Well, you can't have her," Quinn said and threw a performatively-possessive arm around Rachel's shoulder. "Go away."

"Hot," the boy sneered, eyebrows waggling. He conceded and turned his back towards them to greet Brittany and Santana who just arrived, bringing bags of chips and other snacks with them.

"Hi Quinn," Rachel had her arms wrapped around Quinn's waist, her cheek resting against the blonde's chest. "Welcome to my party, and happy graduation."

Quinn's throat flexed when she swallowed. She smiled down at the girl and rubbed her shoulder. "Hi Rachel. Thanks, and happy graduation to you too." Quinn released her hold on Rachel, pointedly ignoring the pout that crossed the smaller girl's lips. Rachel wore a cream dress that reached past her knees, the fabric covered with red polka dots. "My mom bought a few bottles of champagne to celebrate. Do you want some parentally-sanctioned alcohol?"

"Quinn Fabray, are you trying to get me drunk?" Rachel nudged her hip with hers.

"Do I have to get you drunk to have my way with you?" Quinn retorted back.

Here she was, playing with fire. Maybe she was a little bit of a pyromaniac. Maybe she just wanted Rachel Berry to burn her.

"Not at all," Rachel responded primly. She looped an arm around Quinn's and led her to the refreshment table where the bottles of Moet and Clicquot sat in buckets of ice. "You just have to ask."

Quinn poured champagne into two flutes and handed one to Rachel. "To the bright lights of our future," she murmured so only the dark-haired girl could hear. There they were, in their own little bubble. Rachel repeated Quinn's toast with a small smile, clinked their glasses together, and drank. The champagne fizzled on Quinn's tongue, her eyes never left Rachel's even as she drank and tasted the remnants of the liquid in her palate.

The arrival of the rest of the glee club tore Rachel's attention away from Quinn. She smiled apologetically, which Quinn waved away, as Rachel approached Tina and the others. She welcomed them into her backyard. "If you would like some snacks or bought some to share, please look towards the prettiest girl you'll ever meet and there you shall find the refreshment table." Quinn heard Rachel exclaim over the hubbub. She laughed and waved everyone over and graciously accepted their congratulatory words.

Quinn found Brittany and Santana with Hiram and Leroy by the grill. There, she was offered a burger which she accepted, and ate while remembering memories she shared with the Unholy Trinity. Occasionally, her vision wandered and would land on Rachel. She was with Kurt, discussing New York, most likely. Though as if bound together, Rachel glanced at Quinn's direction and waved.

"Are you looking forward to Yale, Q?" Brittany asked, tucking her head against Quinn's neck.

"I am," she said. "But I'm also dreading it. College is surely different than high school. What if I don't make friends?"

"You will," Santana said. "Or if not, just seduce people, sleep with them, and voila, you met people."

As the afternoon darkened into dusk, the glee club gathered around the picnic table to bring up further memories. Those who haven't graduated shared memories they had with those who graduated, and by the time everyone had the opportunity to speak, everyone was teary-eyed and sniffling into tissues Leroy passed around.

After a series of toasts, Quinn's veins buzzed with nostalgia and alcohol. She slipped into the Berry house, used the washroom, and washed her hands. On her way back out to the festivities, she found Rachel standing in the middle of her kitchen, crying.

"Rachel, what's wrong?" Quinn approached the girl who didn't bother looking up, didn't bother hiding the trembling of her body. As if magnetized, Rachel burrowed into Quinn. As if expecting it, Quinn opened her arms and held her. "Hey, is everything okay?"

"I'm just so happy," she murmured, voice thick with crying. "When I started high school, I never thought for one second that I would have friends, let alone enough of them to fill our backyard," Rachel's voice broke and she looked at Quinn, eyes bright with tears. Her eyes rimmed red. "But now I have people who say they would miss me and the most popular girl in school is hugging me in my kitchen," Rachel broke into a wet laugh, and Quinn grinned at the beautiful sound as Rachel returned to nestle against the crook of Quinn's neck. "It hurts to leave them. To leave home."

"The fact that it'll hurt to leave is a beautiful thing," Quinn said, her cheek resting against Rachel's head. "It means you're connected, that you touched people's lives. You've certainly touched mine," Rachel looked up at Quinn, and the blonde offered a crooked smile. "If it wasn't for you, I never would've tried for Yale, never would've thought I'm destined for better things until I witnessed you dreaming with such ferociousness."

"Quinn…"

She blinked back tears and loosened her hold around Rachel's waist. "What I'm trying to say, Rachel, is without you, I don't think I would have dared at all. From the moment you convinced me to return to glee club at the start of my pregnancy, to right now, this very instant," her voice caught in her throat but she steeled herself. Now or never, Fabray.

God, this would have been so much easier if Rachel wasn't looking at her at all. With those doe eyes, those eyelashes, the inquiring tilt of her precious head, Quinn didn't stand a chance.

"I'm trying to tell you I love you."

"Quinn, what – ? I love you too – "

"No, you don't understand," Quinn said, breathless now. "I'm in love with you. Not in the way you're thinking of — not in a friendly way. You used to ask me if we're friends and I always gave you a non-answer, it's because I don't want to believe that I'll only ever be your friend." She eased off Rachel's embrace, wary of making the girl uncomfortable. She laughed, uneasy. "I thought I'd be safe, that I would get away from here, from you, without telling you a damn thing and yet here I am." Hands held out, helpless, ready to succumb to the fallout and demise of her once and already tenuous relationship with Rachel, the first girl she loved — and still loves. "Anyway, so that's it."

Quinn looked at Rachel. Wanted to memorize her features, though she knew she would never be able to forget. The expression in Rachel's face was difficult to read. A cross between confusion and something else that Quinn could not name. Her soft eyes, the way she reached for Quinn. With a shaky breath after silence hung far too heavy that it grew suffocating, Quinn swallowed. "Bye, Rachel." Her voice cracked and she spun on her heel.

What if this was the last time?

Quinn resisted the urge to look back.

She escaped into the backyard, breathed in the smell of summer and smoke, the cut grass, the remnants of burnt coals. Bade her farewell to the people who defined her life for the past four years, and pleaded with her mom to drive her home.

"Are you okay, Quinnie?" Judy asked. Quinn was silent the entire drive home, her head resting against the window for the entire ride. "I'm sure you'll see them again. When you visit for the holidays."

Quinn blinked, unaware of the tears that bloomed in the corner of her eyes. "I know," she murmured, stepping out of the car and leaning against her mom as they walked the length of the pathway to their house. That was all she said — but in her mind and heart, her thoughts churned Rachel, Rachel, Rachel.

She returned to her room where the beginnings of her packing up her belongings lay. Books piled in stacks as Quinn decided which ones to take. Clothes strewn across the floor. Photographs taken off the corkboard she had hanging over her writing desk so she could store them into an album. Mementos of her past, which ones should she bring into her future?

Quinn sat on the edge of her messy bed. Her head pounded from the champagne, the melancholy, the foolishness of what she had done dawning on her like a new day. As she prepared herself for bed, she couldn't look her reflection in the eye while she brushed her teeth.

What if things had been irrevocably ruined? Quinn told Rachel she wanted to make sure they kept in touch, but with this gaff, there would certainly be no hope for that now.

Quinn leapt into her bed and screamed into her pillow. Stupid, Fabray. Damn your foolish heart.

The following day, the flare of the sun that peeked through the blinds woke Quinn up. She only had a few glasses of champagne — how was she this hungover? She leafed through the memories of last night and cringed in remembrance. She slumped back on the pillow and groaned into it.

Her phone had no messages from Rachel which was both a relief and terrifying. Quinn understood the lack of follow-up questions, was happy there were none, but it ached to know that Rachel didn't want to further ask questions about the nature of Quinn's feelings for her. She sighed, the clock read 8:13 — too late to go back to sleep.

Instead of getting up, she pulled up the Unholy Trinity group chat on her phone.

Q: Did something stupid last night.

It shocked her that the replies were immediate.

S: Did it have something to do with Berry because after you left she was looking for you. And looking like she cried. Damn, was that some kind of parting shot or something, Q?

Quinn winced. She liked to think she was no longer a bitch. Though maybe that was just how Santana would view her for the rest of their lives.

B: San and I thought she had been singing in the kitchen because you know how she always gets teary and stuff?

B: What happened, Q?

Q: I told Rachel I'm in love with her last night. Found her crying and I went to comfort her and all of my feelings just came out.

S: CAME OUT JUST LIKE YOU, FABRAY.

S: BITCH I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN

A series of celebratory text effects, a long streak of Santana and Brittany sending her pride flag emojis, with Santana sending her a few tongue emojis. Eventually, they finally calmed down.

S: Well, shit.

B: I think it's cute that you finally told her. You should've done it earlier, though.

Q: What, and be another glee club trainwreck couple? No one can get out of dating a fellow glee club member unscathed.

S: Bitch are you calling me and Britts a trainwreck couple?

Q: A little bit.

B: We kinda are, San.

B: But it kind of makes your bonds stronger, right?

S: I agree with Britt. Though honestly, you two went through the drama already without much of the perks of kissing and dating.

Q: Exactly. Imagine if we DID date.

Quinn's ears turned red at the thought. Meeting Rachel at her locker, kissing her. Walking her to class. Her legs flailed and she buried her face in her pillow to calm down.

B: You guys would be so cute! Like me and San, but less hot, maybe

S: Ew, no thanks.

S: What if Berry likes you back?

Q: Doubtful.

B: Why not? She and Finn haven't been together for the past four months!

Q: That doesn't mean she likes me back. That just means she got wise

S: LOL

S: But she can totally get on the Q-train, why not?

Q: That's not it. I told her she shouldn't be bogged down by anyone from the past. If we date (which we won't), it would be hypocritical of me.

B: When you told Rachel, what did she say?

Q: Nothing. She was shocked, I guess. She hasn't texted me either.

"Quinnie, you have a visitor!" Judy called from downstairs. Quinn frowned. Who would visit her this early, and on a day after a party at that? She could only assume that it would be someone she saw yesterday. Did she forget something in Rachel's house? She scrambled to get dressed in sweatpants and a shirt. She yanked her door open and there stood Rachel in her hallway, fist raised and about to knock.

Quinn squeaked and slammed the door in her face.

Of course it would be Rachel Berry.

"Quinn, open the door this instant!" Rachel said, voice muffled from the other side. Quinn kept her weight pressed against the door in case Rachel tried to push it open. Her heart raced, leapt to her throat. She struggled with a steadying breath and eased the door — slower, this time — to meet Rachel.

"What are you doing here?"

"I brought breakfast in the form of bagels. Come downstairs. Your mom just left to go grocery shopping."

Quinn watched Rachel turn and go downstairs. She pulled out her phone to text Brittany and Santana.

Q: Pray for me. Rachel is in my house and brought bagels. And my mom isn't home.

Q: If I don't text in the next 20 minutes, she probably killed me.

She put her phone on mute and pocketed it. She walked as slowly as possible downstairs and found Rachel standing beside the kitchen island, drinking coffee from a mug. Quinn frowned at the sight.

"Out of all the mugs, you picked the one I always use."

Rachel paused mid-sip and looked at the mug. Printed on it was a wedge of Swiss cheese with a face wearing a monocle. Beside the cheese was a speech balloon and it read: IT AIN'T EASY BEING CHEESY. Rachel looked at the mug, then at Quinn. "Really?" She asked, grinning. "I never took you for a cheesy person."

"Yes, well," Quinn climbed on a high stool and grabbed a warm bagel. She cracked it open and smeared cream cheese into the crevices of the bread. Rachel took a mug from the cupboard and was about to pour coffee into it when Quinn stopped her. "I don't like that mug."

Rachel raised a brow at Quinn. "What about this one?" She took a different mug and Quinn shook her head. Again, she repeated the charade and yet again, Quinn denied her. "Are you being serious right now? These are all perfectly serviceable mugs. You're being immature."

Quinn chomped on the poppy-seed bagel Rachel brought with her from home. Where Quinn confessed her feelings, her love. She pouted. "You're using my mug."

With a sigh, Rachel downed the coffee currently in Quinn's mug. She didn't bother rinsing it — she just poured a fresh cup of coffee in Quinn's mug and set it in front of the still-pouting blonde. "There, are you happy?"

Rather than respond, Quinn sipped coffee and looked everywhere but at Rachel. The diva sighed, sat across from Quinn, and watched her eat. Quinn briefly considered counting the poppy seeds that had scattered across her plate if only to avoid looking at Rachel. Eventually she conceded to the fact that Rachel didn't intend to leave her house until they have an adult conversation.

"What do you want, Rachel?"

"I want to talk but only if you're going to be mature about it. And for you to stop pouting."

Her hands cradled the warmth of the porcelain mug before her. Quinn peered into the depths of the black liquid in hopes of finding courage there. She found none. Still, she finally mustered enough from inside herself to look Rachel in the eyes. She found amusement and annoyance. No pity to be seen whatsoever, much to Quinn's relief.

"So, talk."

When Rachel drew in a large breath into her lungs, Quinn should've expected the onslaught. But she didn't. She stared in shock, shame, and perhaps a hint of arousal as Rachel launched into her tirade.

"You left before I could say anything. And truthfully, I understand why — I know the value of a perfectly-timed storm-out. It means you get to be the one in power, it means that the ball is in the other person's court, so to speak. But the fact of the matter was, I was processing and you cannot fault me at all, Quinn, over my lack of response. And truly I am so mad at you — angry beyond belief and words and expression — for so many things. First of all, for taking so long to tell me. You don't think I would have wanted to hear something like that? Especially from you? And frankly, offended that you didn't think you could trust me with a discussion of feelings. Second of all, the fact that you were resigned that your love would remain unrequited and now you, Lucy Quinn Fabray, have the gall to upturn the narrative I have developed for myself regarding my high school career? I was the one who was supposed to be resigned that you could never possibly love someone like me – I even made myself a playlist full of sad love songs and you just sent all that effort down the drain. And even after I told you, do you not understand what you mean to me?" Rachel repeated this line in a higher pitch, as if mocking herself. "All you did at that moment was smile, and I was so sure that your feelings are so far from being the same as mine."

Rachel released leftover air from her lungs and glared at Quinn, as if challenging her. The blonde palmed her forehead — her mild hangover resolved to make itself known once more. The insistence of her headache throbbed, made her irritable. To her credit, she maintained a neutral expression.

"Can you get me an aspirin, please? It's in that cupboard, beside the mugs."

The diva reached high on the cupboard, her shirt rose and exposed a sliver of her back. Quinn tried not to stare, really, she did — but to no avail. Rachel retrieved the bottle of aspirin and a glass of water. Quinn thanked her, popped two pills in her mouth and drank the whole glass.

"I heard everything you said," Quinn said, her voice hoarse. "But I think I don't understand some of them. What the fuck," her voice increased in volume, "did you mean by my feelings being far from being the same as yours?"

"I never thought you could like someone like me!"

"What?" Quinn imagined that if she kept yelling in the same volume as Rachel, her headache would be nothing but a dull ache, numb and fade to nothing. "How could anyone not like you when you're so god damn loveable, and so annoying, but still!"

"I wouldn't have known that, would I? You told me nothing of the sort!"

"I thought it was obvious!"

"Well, it wasn't!" Rachel stomped her feet against the linoleum tiles of the kitchen. Quinn didn't realize she was standing in front of Rachel, fuming.

"God, Rachel! You really thought I didn't want you to marry Finn because I think of you as a friend?"

"I thought that's what friends did — protect each other from making stupid decisions!"

"So you admit it, you knew marrying Finn was stupid?"

Rachel huffed and Quinn couldn't help but imagine her as a dragon — and smiled at the thought. "I'm telling you now, Quinn, that I love you, and I'm still so mad that you told me too late when we could have been together — "

Quinn blinked and grasped Rachel's wrist. "Sorry, could you repeat that?"

Rachel looked at her like she was either foolish, or choosing not to hear what she just said. So rather than respond, Rachel leapt into Quinn's arms — and Quinn, having been a cheerleader for three years, instinctually caught her.

So Quinn stood in the middle of her kitchen with Rachel's arms around her neck, her legs around Quinn's waist. An electric moment lapsed between them. Rachel held Quinn's face in her hands. And then she lowered her head to kiss Quinn.

Of course, Quinn had been kissed before. By boys, mostly. And Brittany and Santana, once or twice and usually by mistake. But with them, Quinn never preempted the experience by picturing it prior to the moment of kissing. With Rachel, Quinn imagined it with startling vividity that she almost fooled herself into believing her dreams to be reality. Imagine her surprise when the image she had in her mind could not hold a candle to the tactile warmth of Rachel's mouth, her fingers threaded in Quinn's neck-length hair, her thighs wrapped around her waist.

"Do you see what I'm trying to say?" Rachel asked, which meant her mouth was ripped from Quinn's. The blonde blinked through the haze of kissing, her lips curled in a lazy smile.

"No, show me again."

Rachel giggled. "Now I see how that the mug definitely suits your character, Quinn."

Quinn could hardly believe the sight before her: Rachel Berry in a white collared shirt, a grey skirt, and black knee-high socks. In her bed. Back against the headboard. Finger crooked, a smile on her lips that sent Quinn's pulse roaring like a jet engine. She scrambled to follow the girl and their lips fused once more. Rachel slung her arms over Quinn's shoulders, pulled her close as she could.

Warmth radiated off Rachel's body and Quinn rested her left hand on her stomach. The blonde propped herself on her right elbow to adore Rachel's face, her half-closed eyelids, the delight so evident on her mouth. Rachel grasped a fistful of Quinn's shirt and tugged her closer. With Rachel's warm breath on Quinn's cheek, the blonde partook of what was irresistible to her. She tasted Rachel's lower lip, the tip of her tongue, the soft gasps that escaped her body as it rose off the bed in hopes of getting closer to Quinn.

Rachel leaned into Quinn's touch, into her mouth, into her. Desperate hands roaming, grasping at the fabric of Quinn's shirt.

"You're going to push me off the bed," Quinn husked, her voice low against Rachel's hair.

"Stop making me chase after your lips then."

"So spoiled," Quinn grinned against Rachel's craned neck. "Always getting what you want."

"Don't deny that you want to give me what I want."

"Which is?"

"Quinn Fabray," Rachel took a deep breath and for a second, Quinn wondered if she should brace for another onslaught of words. "I want you to kiss me in order to make up for lost time."

The blonde kissed the corner of Rachel's mouth, fingers dancing along the hem of her shirt where a sliver of skin peeked through. She tilted Rachel's face towards her and took her lips in hers once more. She relished Rachel's mouth, the softness that buckled her knees even though she wasn't standing. And when Rachel parted her lips to lick Quinn's bottom lip, the blonde shuddered and rolled on top of a breathless Rachel.

Quinn tilted her head to feel the texture of Rachel's lips, how their lips glided together so easily. Rachel's hands slipped up Quinn's shirt, her cold hands pressed against the blonde's warm back. With a whimper that spilled into Rachel's mouth, Quinn's hand slipped up the diva's shirt and caressed her belly. She kissed a path down Rachel's jaw, her neck, the slight patch of skin of her chest, to make her way down to Rachel's stomach. Quinn nuzzled her there, bit the jut of her hipbone, her ribcage. The hint of her pink lace bra peeked out from her shirt.

Above her, Rachel was biting her lip. Eyes half open, watching Quinn. Her legs were spread just so that her skirt hiked higher up her thigh. Driven by impulse, unable to resist, Quinn pressed a wet kiss on Rachel's thigh, close to the back of her knee. Any higher, and Quinn would feel too brazen to stop.

Quinn palmed the length of Rachel's legs. For some inexplicable reason, she couldn't stop touching Rachel, from her calves to her hips, to her arms, her shoulders. Eventually their fingers laced together. Their heads lay on the same pillow, noses touching.

With Quinn's phone in her pocket, it dug against her thigh so she took it out and saw the abundance of notifications from Brittany and Santana. She had missed calls from both of them, and a flurry of texts. Most of them were in the spirit of teasing, but once the requisite twenty minutes had passed, the worry became evident in both girls' messages. Quinn smiled and replied:

Q: All good. We're just talking.

Rachel raised her brow. "And why would everything be not good?"

"I told them what I did last night," Quinn explained, setting her phone on her nightstand. She stretched out her arm so Rachel can lay against it, her leg thrown over Quinn's hip and hooked to keep the blonde close. "And when you got here I told them to worry if I hadn't texted in twenty minutes because you likely murdered me. I don't mean physically," Quinn said, her hand resting on Rachel's thigh. "I thought maybe you'd break my heart, tell me that there's no chance in hell that we could be together." Rachel smoothed back the hair that fell over Quinn's eyes.

"I only told you I love you with no expectation," Quinn continued, kissing the inside of Rachel's wrist. "It was selfish — I needed closure. I never expected to have something come out of it."

"Actions have consequences, Quinn. And the consequence is that you get to date me."

"Is that what you want? Do you want to date me?"

"Do you want to?"

Quinn bit her lip and nodded shyly. Rachel grinned, her palm resting against the side of Quinn's neck.

"I do too. And you can't rehash that speech you made about not letting the anchors of my past weigh me down — you're not an anchor, Quinn." She paused to lay a delicate kiss on Quinn's lips. "If anything, you're what makes me fly."

"Rachel," Quinn laughed softly. "No one can make you fly but yourself. I'm just here to support you."

After a few moments of silence, of kissing, Rachel let out a soft sigh. "Remember when you said you'd marry Finn and that you would stay here? In Lima? So I can be heartbroken and go on to New York? A pretty messed up way to show me you care, Quinn."

"I wonder if I'm being hypocritical. Aren't I someone from your past, after all?"

"You're not baggage. We're embarking on something new — together."

"What if you meet someone in New York? What if I meet someone in New Haven? Are you prepared for long distance?"

"Then we'll face it together when that time comes." Rachel said gently. "And you bought us Metro North passes. It's just a two-hour commute. In case you haven't noticed," Quinn's eyes never left Rachel's features since they started talking again. "I'm willing to work on this — on us. If it makes you feel better, we can talk about any contingency, any scenario your brain can come up with," Rachel pressed a kiss on Quinn's forehead. "But I'll tell you the same thing every time. That I care about you, and that I love you."

Rachel twisted in Quinn's arms so her back pressed against the blonde's chest. Quinn nuzzled into the back of Rachel's neck with a sigh.

That was how they spent most of the day — basking in each other's presence, with kissing, talking, and laughing in between. Rachel, Quinn always knew, had the tendency for monologues. But when she was comfortable and drowsy, at most she spoke keywords. Minimal conjunctions and even less prepositions. She also clung to Quinn like an infant koala, all arms and legs curled around the blonde as if letting go was mortal sin.

"I'm glad I told you," Quinn spoke into Rachel's hair. "And there I was, berating my heart for being foolish. Alcohol really makes me do questionable things."

Smiling into Quinn's neck, Rachel hummed a song under her breath. "Foolish heart, hear me calling," She sang, cupping Quinn's cheeks in her palms. "Well, Quinn, I'm here to tell you — you're not wrong anymore."

Quinn laughed and pulled Rachel closer to her chest to feel her entire body pressed against hers. There was no telling what comes next, but for the moment, with Rachel singing in her arms, Quinn accepted that.