Three months later

Rachel had loudly protested Quinn's plans to forgo prom to stay at Rachel's and help redecorate her room, but secretly, she thought she'd fallen even more in love with the girl when she'd suggested it. To be honest she hadn't wanted to go anyway; it would have meant trying to pick out a dress that Kurt or anyone else wouldn't make fun of, and Rachel really didn't know if she was up for putting herself out on display at a dance.

Plus, she kind of had other plans that Quinn didn't know about, yet.

Quinn didn't really "help," though, unless sitting on the bed patiently handing Rachel everything that was in the box she normally kept under the bed counted as help. But Rachel was happy, flitting around as she placed this here and that there, humming as she went, so Quinn was content just to watch.

What did the prom hold for her, anyway? She knew that Brittany and Santana weren't going, either, because, unbeknownst to the sweet blonde cheerleader, she was getting proposed to that night. Santana had been one huge ball of nerves all day, prompting Quinn to tease her about being pathetic, just as Santana had teased her before that first afternoon at Rachel's house.

The rest of the glee club would be going, but Quinn secretly still harbored resentment for their indifferent treatment of Rachel both before and after Karofsky, which she regretted feeling. After all, she had been the worst of the worst, if they were keeping tabs. But she didn't want Rachel to be subjected to their false smiles and the whispers behind her back, nor was she keen on seeing Finn or Puck. She reckoned she'd go postal if she went and saw Karofsky there, so, no, prom was overrated, and staying at home with Rachel while her dads were out of town was better.

Rachel stood back as Quinn pinned the last playbill onto a spot on the bulletin board that Rachel couldn't reach, tilting her head to admire her handiwork.

"It's missing something," Rachel said.

"What?" Quinn said, confused and a little hurt. "Did I do something wrong?"

Her eyes narrowed when Rachel rolled hers.

"No, for goodness' sake."

Rachel swiftly pinned a picture of herself and Quinn in the middle of the bulletin board. "Ah, there we are: the most important piece in this room."

"Oh, so you prefer a picture over the real thing, then?" Quinn joked, to cover up how much she wanted to cry, she was so damn in love with that girl.

Rachel turned and unceremoniously shoved Quinn onto the bed, ignoring the squeal of indignation and climbing up next to her, tucking her head against Quinn's neck. "The real thing is so much better," she said, brushing a strand of golden blonde hair out of her girlfriend's eyes. "Especially since…" She trailed off, a faraway expression that Quinn hadn't seen in a while returning to her face.

"Especially since what?" she prompted, kissing Rachel tenderly.

"Especially since I still sometimes think I don't deserve you."

"You do, though."

Rachel gave her a small smile. "I'm still not completely okay, Quinn."

"And I'm still here."

"I'm going to have bad days."

"I'll be there for your bad days, if you'll be there for mine."

"I have scars you can't see."

"I don't have to see them to love them."

"I'm always going to love musicals, and I'm always going to be loud, obnoxious, and bossy."

"I'm always going to roll my eyes at the musicals, tell you to stop being a jerk, and to stop telling me what to do. But I'll always kiss you afterwards."

"I have a hundred reasons why this will never work. Written down, Quinn."

"Give me the list and I'll burn it."

"I can be very stubborn in an argument."

"I never concede defeat."

"Not conceding defeat is going to get you in trouble."

"I love you, too."

Rachel laughed then, a real laugh that seemed to come from somewhere deep, bubbling up and shaking her body, and Quinn smiled, nuzzling the girl's nose before she kissed her.

"Do you remember the day that you texted me in English class?"

It was a vague question, but of course Quinn knew exactly what Rachel was talking about. She kissed her cheek in response.

"You told me I wasn't ugly."

Quinn hummed low in her throat, pressing her cheek against Rachel and just breathing in her scent.

"Why?"

"Because you're beautiful," Quinn shrugged. "You were sitting there writing and drawing about how ugly you thought you were, and I was sitting there daydreaming about reciting a Pablo Neruda poem to you." She grinned sheepishly, feeling the flush rise up to her ears. "I can be a dork sometimes."

Rachel nodded and snuggled deeper into Quinn. "But you're my dork."

Quinn smiled and closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of Rachel in her arms.

"Yes, I am."

"Will you?"

She cracked an eyelid open. "Will I what?"

"Tell me a poem."

Quinn pursed her lips. "It was just a stupid daydream, Rachel."

"Please?" Rachel stuck out her lower lip and batted her eyelashes, knowing that Quinn could never resist it.

True to form, Quinn sighed melodramatically and shook her head, but snuggled Rachel closer. "You won't laugh?"

"Never."

She nodded and searched her mind, then started. "'I have named you Queen,'" she murmured into Rachel's ear. "'There are taller than you, taller. There are purer than you, purer. There are lovelier than you, lovelier. But you are the Queen. When you go through the streets, no one recognizes you. No one sees your crystal crown, no one looks at the carpet of red gold you tread as you pass, the nonexistent carpet. And when you appear all the rivers sound in my body, bells shake the sky, and a hymn fills the world. Only you and I, only you and I, my love. Listen to me.'"

Quinn stilled, embarrassed. Rachel sniffled and buried her head in Quinn's neck, and the blonde girl was startled to feel the wetness of tears. "Rachel—"

"Quinn Fabray, closet romantic, who knew?" Rachel mumbled, squeezing her tighter. "I love you."

Quinn smiled in relief, and kissed the top of her head. "I love you too, baby."

"A few months ago, I never would have dreamed… this," Rachel gestured to herself and Quinn, snuggled together. "I never believed that I would find someone to really love me, for me, and not have… conditions on that love. And I sure as hell never believed that the one person who would show me unconditional love would be Quinn Fabray."

"Maybe I'm not Quinn Fabray," she deadpanned. "Maybe I'm just a figment of your imagination."

Rachel snorted. "In that case, I would be more than willing to take up residence in a padded room. I hear they have impeccable acoustics."

Quinn groaned at the Berry-ism, but whined when Rachel pulled away from her.

She got up, moving to stand in front of the mirror as she had so many times before. Quinn sat on the edge of the bed, just watching while Rachel's eyes roved over every inch of her body.

Quinn knew full well the struggle that still existed there; the fear Rachel had of looking at herself in the mirror and finding herself lacking. Every so often she would catch Rachel staring down at her hands, flexing her fingers in and out, in and out, tongue just barely peeking out of her mouth as she concentrated, trying to find any flaw that existed, anything that would make the harsh moniker of "manhands" accurate.

She knew that Rachel craved hearing "I love you" as many times as Quinn let it issue from her lips, knew that she needed to hear it because still, somewhere, in the back of her mind, Rachel was afraid that it was all a joke, and she'd wake up the next morning covered in ice and corn syrup. Quinn knew that Rachel hadn't wanted sex yet because she was afraid to be naked in front of her, even though they hadn't discussed sex at all.

She knew that Rachel couldn't get enough of Quinn telling her that she was beautiful, that she was amazing, that she could sing so much better than Mercedes or Kurt, and that there was no way that Juilliard wouldn't accept her, and if they did she'd personally go to New York and burn the school to the ground.

Quinn knew all these things, and wished it were different. She wished Rachel had never hooked up with Karofsky, wished that he had never hurt her, wished that he had never divested Rachel of the last remnants of her confident self.

She wished she had never played a part in tearing Rachel so low that she had thought Dave Karofsky was a representation of love.

But wishes are useless, and all Quinn had was time. She hoped it was enough for Rachel to begin to see herself as Quinn saw her.

Amazing.

Finally, Quinn got up, wrapping her arms around Rachel from behind and resting her chin on the girl's shoulder, staring at their reflection – light against dark, short against tall, brown mixing with hazel.

"What are you thinking?" She asked softly, a little afraid of the answer. Rachel had grown by leaps and bounds in the last few months, and Quinn wasn't looking forward to a setback.

But Rachel smiled, blushing a little, and casting her eyes to her feet. "I was thinking that I want you."

Quinn smiled at her in the mirror and kissed her cheek. "You have me, baby."

Rachel shook her head. "No, Quinn. I mean, I want you." Catching Quinn's shocked expression, she moved to squeeze her girlfriend's hands gently. "Tonight."

Quinn's breath quickened as she took in the implication of those words. Besides knowing that Rachel was still hesitant about being completely naked in front of her, she and Rachel hadn't really discussed taking their relationship to the next level; Quinn knew that her girlfriend wouldn't be ready for such intimacy for a while, and she was content just to have Rachel in her arms every night, even if they didn't have sex. So… why had Rachel changed her mind? Why was that night so important? Quinn asked her.

Rachel still had the smile on her face, growing more loving when she heard Quinn's question. Still looking at her girlfriend in the mirror, Rachel lifted her hand and kissed it gently.

"Because," she said simply, turning in Quinn's arms. "I feel beautiful."

Quinn's hand flew to her mouth as the tears began to course down her cheeks. Rachel chuckled softly, standing on tiptoe in order to touch Quinn's forehead with her lips.

"Thank you, Quinn."

Quinn shook her head, laughing in spite of her tears. "No, baby – thank you."

There was so much behind the statement, so much that neither girl was sure two words could encompass it all. For Quinn, it meant thank you for seeing me; thank you for showing me who I was, and who I can be; thank you for forgiving me. For Rachel, it meant thank you for saving me; thank you for showing me what real beauty is; thank you for believing in me.

For both of them, it meant thank you for loving me.

And then Quinn was leading Rachel to the bed, staring at her as if she was the only woman she needed, the only woman she would ever need, and as they lay down with Quinn's warmth sliding on top of Rachel, and soft lips pressed together, they both knew it was true.

"Rachel?" Quinn breathed, her mouth still inches from Rachel's.

"Baby, are you… are you sure?" she asked uncertainly. "It… baby, the first time, it hurts. And I don't want…"

I don't want you to think of him.

She'd forever believe in Rachel's sixth sense, because the girl brought her hands up to cup the back of Quinn's head, drawing the blonde girl down to her for another kiss.

"I won't," she said softly. "I know it might hurt, but I know that I trust you. Please, Quinn." She moved her hands to clasp Quinn's fingers, bringing them to the buttons of her shirt.

"Make love to me."

She nodded, her heart in her throat and hands shaking as she slowly undid the buttons, eyes locked on Rachel's as she slowly pulled the shirt off her body.

Quinn dared to look down, and her breath stilled in her lungs.

She was beautiful.

Quinn had imagined Rachel naked, a shameless number of times when she was lying alone in her bed at home, in desperate need of love and release. But it was nothing compared to the real thing, Rachel underneath her, open and vulnerable, brown eyes awash with want and a little fear.

Quinn dipped her head to kiss her, quickly.

"Beautiful," she murmured against Rachel's lips, allowing one hand to trail over the expanse between Rachel's breasts, down her stomach, feeling the way the muscles quivered at her touch.

"My god, Rachel, you're so beautiful…"

Tears had begun streaking down Rachel's face as Quinn slowly took in every inch of her, eyes drinking in the tan skin, the gentle swell of breasts peaked by rosy, stiff nipples. She dared to kiss the hollow of Rachel's throat, blinking back her own tears when the girl beneath her sighed, tangling her fingers in Quinn's hair and holding her close. She traced her mouth over the length of Rachel's collarbone, first one side then the other, tiny kisses and softer licks.

Remembering the harsh blues and black of bruises, she ghosted her lips over every place she had seen them, willing that every bad memory Rachel held would dissolve at her touch, resolved to keep touching, keep kissing, until everything that Karofsky and so many others – including herself – had vanished, replaced with love and care. Quinn kissed her softly, tenderly, painful images dancing in her head and the desperate need to erase months – years – of the torture Rachel had borne from the indifference of others.

Quinn Fabray would never again be indifferent to Rachel Berry

"You're incredible," she murmured, a note of awe in her voice.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she inched her way over Rachel until she was straddling her waist, her weight held up mostly by her hands, as Quinn's eyes met Rachel's again, silently asking.

Rachel nodded, her lip caught between her teeth.

Quinn released some of the weight from her hands and shaking arms, so that they were more fully pressed together; she was unable to stop a quiet moan that issued from her at the touch of shorts against jeans, and she blushed, catching a glint of lust sparkling in Rachel's eyes. She lowered herself so that her forearms were on either side of Rachel's head, capturing the girl's mouth with hers.

Rachel leaned up into the kiss; Quinn blinked in surprise when she felt Rachel's mouth open slightly, but it was effortless, natural, slipping her tongue inside and meeting Rachel's. Both girls moaned when Quinn unconsciously ground her center into Rachel's at the contact.

Quinn broke the kiss long enough to rest her forehead against Rachel's, hazel eyes meeting brown, both with a sparkle neither had seen. But Rachel's soon took on an expression of uncertainty, and once again she worried her lower lip.

"Baby?" Quinn questioned.

"Am I… am I okay? Am I… pretty enough?"

Quinn shook her head and slipped off Rachel, tears dotting her eyelashes. She cupped Rachel's cheek in her hand, turning the girl's face towards her, as Quinn's other hand carefully slid down to the button of Rachel's jeans.

Rachel's eyes widened and she stared at Quinn.

"You're beautiful," Quinn said, determined to say it all night, every night, until Rachel believed it.

"Let me show you, Rach… let me show you how beautiful I think you are. Please?"

Rachel took a deep breath, then nodded. "Okay," she whispered. "But… can you…" She trailed off.

"Can I what?" Quinn kissed her.

Rachel blushed. "Can you take your clothes off?"

Quinn giggled a little, blushing herself, before stripping off her teeshirt, then reaching behind to unclasp her bra. She felt self-conscious but let it fall; she avoided Rachel's eyes as she raised her hips to shimmy out of her shorts and panties, leaving her naked next to the small diva.

"Wow," Rachel breathed before she could stop herself. "Quinn… my god, you're gorgeous." She raised her hand, trailing her fingertips down the other girl's stomach.

Quinn shivered at the touch. "You think so?"

"I know so," Rachel answered seriously, pressing their lips together. "Gorgeous."

Quinn smiled, a tear falling down her cheek, before she busied herself gently unbuttoning Rachel's jeans. Rachel raised her hips, her eyes never leaving Quinn's, as the girl slipped them off, then rested her fingers against the waistband of Rachel's cotton panties.

Rachel swallowed hard, but lifted herself slightly into Quinn's touch.

Quinn splayed her hands, allowing her last four fingers to draw the fabric down as her thumbs stayed comfortingly on Rachel's skin: hipbones, soft thighs, knees, ankles, until she discarded Rachel's underwear with the heap of other clothes on the floor.

Rachel's scent hit her fully, and Quinn's jaw dropped at the revelation of the girl displayed next to her.

Years of mornings on the elliptical had paid off, from Rachel's muscular arms to the taut plane of her stomach; legs that seemed to go on for miles even for such a small diva. The merest patch of dark, wiry curls at her center, and Quinn's fingers flexed of their own volition, even as she licked her lips. She traced Rachel's body with her eyes, back up until they landed on Rachel's face.

Rachel was watching her intently, the same uncertainty apparent in her expression. Quinn couldn't help but kiss her again, then pulled her girlfriend until they were lying flush with each other, warm skin pressed against warm skin, and both of them gasped at the sensation.

Quinn's hands were on Rachel's back, holding the girl to her, fingers stroking, soothing, spelling out a word over and over, even as she didn't realize it.

Love.

Their kisses were unhurried, gentle; Quinn wouldn't allow for anything else, being terrified that one false motion would send the other girl scurrying away from her, and she knew she'd never be able to live with herself if that happened.

Eventually, though, Rachel was gasping a little into Quinn's mouth, and her hips moved involuntarily when Quinn's hand had meandered down to her lower back, one fingertip tracing along her spine. Quinn smiled into Rachel's lips, bringing her right hand around to rest on Rachel's thigh.

"You're sure?" she asked again. "You can say no, and I won't be mad."

"Please, Quinn," Rachel begged. "I want you. I need to know that you think I'm beautiful."

Quinn nodded, pressing their lips together as her hand moved further south until she gently cupped wetness.

Rachel's moan was low, guttural – as was Quinn's when Rachel took her own hand and repeated Quinn's action.

"You're so wet," Rachel said, wonder in her voice. "You feel so amazing… I never thought… I didn't know it was like this."

Quinn nuzzled her cheek. "It's what seeing you like this does to me." Slowly she extended her index finger, sliding it in between Rachel's soft folds, marveling at how Rachel's eyelids fluttered when that finger found her clit.

"You're just so beautiful… I can't be anything but wet for you."

They fell silent then – at least in speech – content to just kiss and feel each other, relishing this most intimate contact. Quinn's finger stroked and teased, rubbed and soothed, and soon she saw that Rachel's hips were thrusting gently in time with her movements, and she wondered…

Slowly, carefully, she slid her finger towards Rachel's entrance.

Rachel's hips jerked and her eyes snapped shut; Quinn stilled.

"Are you okay?"

Rachel's eyes opened. She grinned, and tenderly, she pressed two fingers inside Quinn easily, up to the knuckles.

Quinn gasped, pushing herself into the touch. "I—guess you're okay," she said shakily with a laugh. She grew serious then, her finger circling Rachel.

"I just don't want…"

"Quinn." Rachel kissed her, nipping at her lips, and Quinn groaned when Rachel's fingers withdrew, only to thrust back in, deeper.

"I want it. I want you. Please."

Quinn nodded. Taking a deep breath, she slipped her finger inside Rachel. They felt the barrier at the same time and Quinn hesitated.

Rachel's other hand clutched at her shoulder, nails digging in mercilessly, and Quinn winced, but she didn't care.

"Hold on to me, baby," she said quietly. She lowered her lips to Rachel's, murmuring, "I'm catch you, I'll always catch you," as she pushed her finger further.

Rachel hissed and her grip tightened, her face twisting in pain, tears escaping from her closed eyelids and streaking down her cheeks.

"I know, I know," Quinn kissed away each of the tears as they fell, her hand slack and limp against Rachel's center. "I'm sorry, baby, I'm sorry."

Rachel took a few heaving breaths before opening her eyes and nodding at Quinn.

"Don't stop," was all she said.

Quinn nestled her cheek against Rachel's before her finger began its slow thrusts, gentle until she saw that Rachel had stopped wincing, and that her mouth had opened into a small "o," her hips beginning to move to meet each thrust.

"Oh, god," Rachel breathed, her voice soft and high, sending shivers down Quinn's spine. "Quinn, you feel so good…"

"So do you," Quinn said, groaning when Rachel's fingers resumed their thrusts, her palm sliding wetly over Quinn's clit.

They rocked together, tongues and lips and legs tangled, not roughly but not completely gentle, either. It was a little awkward and their position was slightly uncomfortable, but neither of them cared, because the only thought in their minds was Rachel and Quinn and love, and soon Rachel's free hand was clutching hard at Quinn's shoulder again.

Quinn almost stopped, but Rachel shook her head, breathing hard. "No… I'm… I'm…"

Quinn may have never made love to a girl before, but she knew her own body well enough to interpret the tightening of Rachel's muscles around her finger, and she drew the girl closer to her, feeling the heat rise at her center.

"Yes, baby," she whispered into Rachel's ear. "Come for me, Rachel; god, you're so pretty, you're so beautiful, baby, I love you, come for me…"

She curled her finger and Rachel broke with a low, keening cry, gasping Quinn's name over and over as her hips jerked into the blonde girl's hand.

Quinn felt her own body clench and she sagged against Rachel, her head on the other girl's shoulder; she came hard and fast, groaning Rachel's name.

Incapable of speech they fell onto the pillows, eyes closed and breathing ragged; Quinn felt that she must have dozed off because when next she opened her eyes she was met with Rachel at her side… crying.

"Oh, god," Quinn said frantically. "Rachel, I'm sorry, whatever I did, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

Rachel responded by pulling Quinn close to her, resting her head against the blonde girl's chest.

"I love you," she mumbled. "I love you so much, and you… you love me."

"Well, yeah," Quinn said, a little confused. "Rachel—" She pushed the girl away slightly so she could look at her.

"Rachel… did you still not think I love you?"

"He said no one would ever love me," Rachel sniffled. "And you're just so beautiful and amazing, and you made me feel so wonderful just now, and I thought… how could you love me?"

Quinn's heart melted. She kissed Rachel softly, tenderly. "I love you," she said. "And if it takes the rest of my life, I'm going to make sure you know just how much."

Rachel smiled then. "Are you proposing, Quinn Fabray?" she teased.

Quinn giggled, feeling her face blush to the tips of her ears. "Ask me again in a couple of years, ok, baby?"

Rachel nodded and yawned, Quinn's unspoken promise not lost on her. "I will definitely be doing the asking," she said firmly. "I fully plan on proposing to you first."

Quinn nearly fell off the bed at the thrill that coursed through her body with Rachel's words, but she schooled it behind her trademark smirk. "I play to win, you know," she said.

Rachel met Quinn's eyes and kissed her. "Proposal or not, I think I've already won," she whispered lovingly, before both of them finally yielded to sleep.