Um so it's been a few months since I last updated… There's not really much I can say except for I really dropped the ball on this one, sorry! I hope you guys at least enjoy this last chapter.

"Quinn!"

"Get away from me," The blonde warned, clutching her books tightly to her chest as she speed-walked to class.

Rachel, despite countless hours spent on the elliptical, struggled to keep up with her, working those little legs furiously. The sight made Quinn's all-encompassing aggravation lessen a bit. She internally laughed at the effort it took Berry to walk at a slightly faster than normal pace, but it only lasted a moment. Then she went back to trying to get away from the girl at her side. She picked up the pace slightly and heard a groan from the diva. But it seemed like she wouldn't quite give up.

"Quinn, I'm sorry! It was entirely inappropriate for me to say that!"

The blonde made a noise of derision but otherwise didn't react.

"It's really none of my business, I shouldn't have even brought the topic up in the first place. Your life isn't mine to scrutinise."

Was it childish to cover her ears and say "lalala, I can't hear you"? Because if Berry kept talking, she was going to drive her to those immature lengths.

"Really, I suppose it was just because I was curious for my own reasons. It was selfish of me."

Quinn stopped abruptly and Rachel knocked into her with a dull thud. Quinn spun around and stared the girl down with a fierce glare.

"Listen to this, Berry. As much you want me to be, I'm not a lesbian. I'm not your white knight, here to save you from being alone for a whole two seconds."

"I never said anything like that, Quinn."

"Don't even interrupt me. You don't know anything about me. You're not psychic so don't even pretend that you can tell that I like girls. What you are is a fraud and I'm not going to rest until everyone else in this school knows it."

Rachel had never looked so small and vulnerable as she did in this moment. But the look in her eye didn't phase Quinn one bit as she spat out her next words.

"I'm going to ruin you."

The diva's mouth fell open at the vicious conviction in the blonde's voice. But she didn't get the chance to respond because before she knew it, Quinn was walking away. Not to their class, but straight out of the school and off to create her plan.

"Thanks for picking me up, Santana," Quinn chirped as she tried to squeeze her posters into the car without damaging them.

Santana's bloodshot eyes indicated a late night with Brittany, which in turn explained exactly why she had reacted so hostilely to Quinn's early morning call.

"You. Owe. me. Big time, bitch," the brunette glared.

Quinn shivered as she thought of the favours she would be asked to commit, but it would be worth it in the end. So she just got into the car and closed the door. That's when Santana got a good look at one of the posters.

"Holy shit, Q. Don't you think this is overkill?"

At the time that she got the posters printed, she didn't think that getting the words "Rachel Berry: Liar, Fraud, and NOT psychic" printed underneath a picture of Rachel's grinning face was too harsh. But now that even Santana was coming to her rescue, she felt a bit more apprehensive about it.

"No, no, of course it's not! Because it's the truth! And it's important to tell the truth," she reasoned.

"Do you conveniently forget about that motto when you're convincing yourself that you like dick?" Santana snarked.

"Just shut your mouth and drive. I get it, I owe you one. I'll give you a kidney one day."

Santana rolled her eyes and shifted gears. She peeled out of Quinn's driveway like a bat out of hell, just to piss her off.

"So why couldn't you just drive to school yourself? Only losers go to school this early."

"Because I don't want anyone to see my car and connect me to the posters. I'll just put them up and then hide in an empty classroom until more people get there."

"Yes, because no one's going to suspect it was you, because you haven't been running around screaming that Berry isn't psychic for the last few weeks. Oh wait, that's exactly what you've been doing."

"I'm not the only one that doesn't believe her."

"Maybe, but you're the only one that's crawled up her ass about it."

"That's because she thinks she knows things about me, about everyone. But she doesn't! She makes me so mad-"

"That you could just kiss her, right?"

Quinn gritted her teeth while contemplating knocking the grin right off of Santana's face. Her ill-tempered friend didn't seem to mind the early wakeup call if it meant that she could get under Quinn's skin.

When they arrived, Quinn practically kicked the car door open in ill humour.

"Hey, Psycho, easy on my car. Just because you're repressed doesn't mean I'll let you damage my ride," Santana jabbed.

The blonde rolled her eyes and struggled out the car with her unwieldy load. Her friend didn't follow.

"Hey, aren't you coming?"

She shrugged nonchalantly.

"You just asked me for a ride and I delivered. Now I'm going back to my house to have awesome morning sex with my girlfriend, like I'm sure you would love to do with Berry. In fact, I think I'll even skip my first few classes and roll in at lunch time just to see what kind of bullshit drama you'll start with Rachel."

Fine. If Santana was going to be a bitch about it, Quinn didn't want her around.

She would just have to put up the posters herself and imagine how good it will feel when everyone realised that Rachel was a fake, that everything she said was a lie, that Quinn was straight… you know, incontrovertible truths.

"Who the hell made these posters?"

"That's just sad, making these just to bring someone down."

"Rachel was right about so many things. Like I'm going to believe those were all guesswork!"

Quinn grit her teeth as she passed by yet another set of students scoffing at her posters. A couple of them shot her an accusing glare before ripping the poster in half.

What the hell was their problem? A month ago most of the kids in this school would have laughed and made their own posters (and let me tell you, they would call her a lot worse words than "liar"). And now she was this untouchable saint just because they've found some use for her? That was just sad. Quinn almost felt sorry for Rachel. Almost.

But not really. Because as much as everyone was just using Rachel, she was manipulating them with her lies, in the end making her McKinley's most popular student.

"Rachel! Raaaaachelllll. Rachel!"

It looks like the halls have been blessed with the presence of Queen Berry, if the desperate cries of her lowly vassals was any indication. Quinn turned around and there she was, speed walking and rebuffing her admirers. They paid no heed to her apparent rush, but jostled each other in order to get closer to her.

"Rachel, don't pay attention to those posters! Whoever made them is obviously jealous," one peon insisted.

"Obviously," another agreed, obnoxiously.

Rachel, surprisingly, made no eye contact with the ass kissers.

"I wasn't paying attention to them. Until, that is, so many of you continually brought them to my attention," She answered brusquely, not even slowing her pace.

Her eyes were focussed like laser beams onto Quinn. Which is exactly what she should have expected. The diva started to make a beeline towards Quinn, but her followers were still yapping away at her.

"We believe in you, Rachel. We've always believed in you. Some crappy posters aren't going to change that!"

At this point the twenty or so people started moaning about how they love her and how she's so important, so you'd think (or at least Quinn thought) that Berry would be loving all the attention, but it seemed like the opposite was true. She stopped walking and glared at them, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Yes, thank you for your continued support of me," she didn't sound thankful at all, "But I think I'm feeling a vision coming on and I need to have as few people in my general area as possible, to prevent interference. You understand, don't you?"

At that the students leapt away from her, apologizing profusely for interrupting the obviously important premonition she was currently having. They all skittered away to their classes, leaving the hall completely clear, save Rachel and Quinn. Seeing that she was free to go after her target, Rachel did just that.

"Quinn! What on earth is your problem?"

The answer was automatic.

"You."

Rachel sighed wearily.

"As strongly as you feel that I am a fraud, this really is unwarranted. I know I hurt you with what I said the other day, but I thought that we had forged a tentative friendship. Or maybe that was all in my head, because I never thought that you would try to turn me into the school pariah again."

Quinn felt a sudden twinge in her chest that she tried to reassure herself wasn't guilt. It couldn't be. She was right, Rachel was wrong.

"Well… maybe the word 'liar' is a bit harsh since it seems like you actually believe what you're feeding everyone. I'll put 'delusional' on the posters next time," She said casually.

"You can put whatever you like because, as you could see, no one's paying attention to them. I just wish you wouldn't because I like to think that you care about me enough to not try to hurt me," there was that twinge again, maybe Quinn needed to visit the doctor, "Because if you think about it, I could print up posters saying something like 'Quinn Fabray: big lesbian, so says Rachel Berry, psychic extraordinaire' and almost everyone in school would believe me. But I care for you, so I wouldn't-"

Rachel didn't have time to finish.

"Is that a threat, Berry? Of course it is. Trying to slander me so that you won't have anyone casting doubt on your amazing abilities, huh? You make me sick. Telling me we're friends and that you care about me when really you couldn't care less as long as you get to be top dog of the school," Quinn felt like her heart was going to thump right through her rib cage. And have those black spots always been in front of her eyes?

The diva was not cowed by this attack one bit.

"So which is it, Quinn? Am I trying to get you to be my lesbian lover or trying to ruin your reputation? Let me know because obviously I don't have any say in this at all."

The blonde didn't have an answer for her, mostly because she was trying to control her breathing. It seemed to be coming pretty quick. She didn't feel so good.

"Okay then, maybe I do have a chance to say something. One, I'm not going to put up posters, because that would be senselessly cruel. Two, I do care about you, although sometimes I really wonder why. And three, stay out of the east corridor today, I have a bad feeling about it. Please just listen to me this time."

The next thing Quinn knew, Rachel was gone, and she was left to attempt to breathe normally.

Later, after she had regained her senses she heard the warning again, this time over the PA system.

"Attention students of McKinley high. This is Rachel Berry, of The Rachel Berry Psychic Hour here with an important message. Do not, I repeat, do not enter the east corridor past the gym this afternoon for your own safety. There will be a barricade set up as a reminder. Thank you very much for your caution and enjoy the rest of your school day."

And suddenly it came to her –the most fool-proof plan ever. She had to wait until lunch to set it up, but it was worth it.

She walked into the cafeteria like she owned it. Santana and Brittany came up to her. Santana was probably asking about what she had gotten up to, while Brittany was probably saying something about one of her cats, but Quinn was barely listening. She was on a mission. Brushing past them, she walked to a centre table in the room and gave its occupants a look that clearly said "get out of the way before I skin you alive". She must have been getting a reputation for beating losers down because they scampered away with not so much as a peep of indignation. She stepped up onto the table, making sure not to accidentally lay foot in macaroni salad. It seemed as though every eye in the room was immediately drawn to her by this action alone, but she let out an ear-splitting whistle for good measure. Once she was sure all eyes were on her, she addressed the room.

"Attention students of McKinley, time for an announcement that you should actually listen to. I know you won't believe me when I say this, but Rachel Berry isn't psychic. She's a fraud."

It didn't take long for the room to fill with jeering and boos.

"Wait, just wait! I can prove it!" She shouted over the din.

Slowly the mass of students quieted down to random mumbling. However, the looks of incredulity and derision never left their faces. Quinn swallowed any nerves she had (that's what she decided the twinge was) and continued.

"She'd like you to believe she's psychic and you do, you all gullibly believe her. So now she says stuff like 'don't go into the east corridor for your own safety', which doesn't really tell you anything about what kind of danger might be in there. But you believe her all the same. So now I'm going to prove to you that she's full of shit by spending the whole afternoon in the east corridor and have nothing bad happen to me."

Quinn unceremoniously stepped down from the table. Well aware that she still commanded the room's attention, she practically strutted out of the room, making sure to ignore Santana's attempts to stop her.

She was on a mission.

To her delight, it seemed as though word of said mission was spreading throughout the school. She now had amassed a crowd of curious followers at her heels. Unfortunately, it seemed as though sometimes the message of what exactly she was doing got confused.

"Hey, man, do you know what this is about?" A doofy looking ginger kid asked a guy to his right.

"Oh, you didn't hear? Rachel turned her down for a date so now Fabray's going to go kill herself in the east corridor. I think there's supposed to be some lion from the zoo loose or something."

Just as Quinn was about to show this moron just how wrong he was (she suddenly understood why Santana was so quick to bust out her Lima Heights Adjacent self) she felt her arm being tugged insistently. There was Brittany at her side, giving her the biggest puppy dog eyes she's ever seen.

Oh god no. She had to resist, she wasn't Santana for crying out loud.

"Quinn! You can't go there if there's a lion! They're not as cute and cuddly as you think they are. Believe me, I know."

Suddenly the fact that Brittany and Santana had been banned from the zoo made so much more sense.

"There's not going to be a lion, B," Quinn assured her.

"What about tigers?"

"No, why would you-"

"And bears? Oh my!"

"There's not going to be anything! It's just a stupid hallway!" She snapped.

It took approximately two nanoseconds for Santana Lopez to lock on target. No one got away with being mean to Brittany. Quinn rolled her eyes, Santana was so predictable.

"Hey Q, take it down a notch or else I'll suffocate you with my twins. I've done it before and it's a slow death."

Quinn didn't react, knowing it would only goad Santana on. But it seemed as though her non-reaction did about the same.

"Although that probably sounds like a good time to you, doesn't it? It would be even better if I was Berry and then we could finally put all this sexual tension to rest."

"If you're going to follow me I'm going to ask that you don't mention such disgusting things. I will tone it down a bit like you asked. I'm sorry Britt," the apology was wooden but Brittany cheered up all the same. And when Brittany was happy, Santana was less prone to provoking Quinn.

The chatting ended (on her part at least) and then she and her spectators arrived at their destination. Everyone came to a dead stop, seeing the empty, eerie hallway (I mean, was it always that eerie? It had to be Berry's message playing with her head, right?) It was one of the older parts of the school, the renovation funds had been directed towards manicures for the Cheerios, leaving this part of the school looking a little rougher than the rest, with old lockers that refused to open and bulky overhanging lights instead of the usual fluorescent lighting. A meagre attempt at stopping entry into the hallway had been made. Someone had put up yellow "Do not enter tape" across the hallway and had set up not one, but two orange cones. By God, how was she ever going to get into the corridor under these conditions?

She walked up to the section and easily tore down the tape. She kicked one of the orange cones onto its side for good measure. She stepped fully into the hallway and was not immediately struck down by the hand of God. She set a triumphant hand on her hip before turning to look at the crowd. Quite predictably no one chose to follow her. In fact, the closest two people were a good ten feet away from the start of the corridor. She thought that Santana would have had more guts than that.

"Really, guys? She's just making stuff up and you're believing it?"

Brittany fidgeted uncomfortably, but Santana didn't even blink.

"Whatever, Quinn. You can go risk your neck for a dumb ass reason if you want, but Britt and I have got to think about ourselves. If Brittany ever got hurt and I knew I could have prevented it, I wouldn't be able to live with myself."

"Me too," Brittany smiled at the girl and entwined their hands.

Santana's bitch face melted into a sappy look that she would kill anyone for mentioning. For some reason the scene made Quinn's heart clench with something like regret. She ignored it like she's learned to ignore all of her problematic feelings.

"Nothing's going to happen, though… you'll see," She muttered.

The look on Santana's face could only be described as pitying. And if there was one thing Quinn was sick of, it was being pitied for not believing Rachel Berry's stories. So she didn't even care when Santana turned tail and walked away, tugging Brittany along with her. Let them go off and be sickeningly in love, while Quinn waits single and alone in this stupid hallway to make a stupid point. She kicked at the floor and sighed. Well, she wasn't really alone. She stared out at her spectators, who gawked back at her, looking half-terrified, half-morbidly excited.

"Guess what, guys? Nothing's happened yet and nothing is going to happen. It's just a hallway, not Hogwarts. I can't believe you're all so stu-"

"Stupid?" a voice interjected. "Because what you're doing right now is so very smart?"

The crowd parted like the Red Sea, and there before her stood a very, very mad Rachel Berry. That was weird. Berry never usually got that mad. When she did get upset, it was always just mild irritation with her fellow Glee clubbers, usually because they were "stealing" solos from her. It wasn't like this. All heaving chest and flashing eyes.

If she felt a small (large) thrill go through her it was because she loved making Berry unhappy and not for any other reason. And her mouth was this dry before Rachel ever came by. She was probably just dehydrated or something.

The idiots around her bowed their head reverently as if she was some pissed deity. It was just so dumb. Which took Quinn's mind off of Rachel's heaving bosom and reminded her why she was there in the first place.

"Oh so you're worried now that you're going to be revealed to be a phony? It's too late, you can't stop me. I'm going to make your empire crash to the ground," She wasn't even paying attention to the words coming out of her mouth anymore, she just knew that she wanted to make Rachel flare up with that fiery anger that Quinn always felt when Rachel was around.

To her dismay, what she said seemed to have the opposite effect. The steel went out of Rachel's eyes and her mouth twitched temporarily into a smile of amusement, before it she wiped it off of her face in order to be serious.

"Now you're just being melodramatic. Honestly, my 'empire'? And I suggest you not read The Catcher in the Rye as much. I wouldn't want you to continue calling me a phony and miss out on all the other colourful names you could call me."

Quinn flushed in sudden embarrassment. Okay, so maybe she had been melodramatic. Rachel wasn't exactly Darth Vader.

"So now that you are slightly more subdued, please come over here."

Subdued? Screw that.

"I'm not your dog, Berry, unlike everyone else around you. I'm making a point here," she snarked.

"Quinn, believe it or not, I am actually worried for your physical health, once again. So get out of that damn hallway," Rachel asked, no –commanded.

The steel was back in her eyes. It only spurred on Quinn's joyful disobedience.

"Make me," she dared, backing further into the hallway, underneath one of the lights.

That gorgeous anger blazed up in the brunette once more before it was overtaken with a different look. Tentatively she took a couple steps forward and now she was walking intently forward, breaching the invisible line where the dreaded hallway started.

She wasn't actually going to make Quinn leave, was she?

"Don't you dare touch me, Berry. It's not… it's not like you c-could even do anything since you don't even-"

"Quinn, just shut up," Rachel hissed.

She was close enough now. She grabbed Quinn's arm and swung her violently forward, into her arms. It was too much, much too much, and now they were tumbling roughly to the ground. A split second later she heard a collective gasp and then a loud, metallic crash. The ground underneath her quaked with impact. She didn't know what was going on, the only thing she was sure of was that Rachel's arms were tightly around her and her head was buried in the crook of Quinn's neck. After a slight pause wherein her wildly beating heart attempted to calm itself down, Rachel broke the tight embrace, sitting up and looking down at her in concern.

"You alright?" she breathed.

'From what? You knocking me to the ground for fun?' Could have gone out of the blonde's lips, but instead she just said "Yeah… are you?" Rachel nodded and stood up. Quinn was now greeted with the carnage of the hallway. One of the large overhanging lights had met its swift end, smashing itself to bits on the floor. And cracking the tile open while it was at it. That could have been her head. She shivered.

A hand was now being held out to her from a sheepish looking Rachel. Which, really, what did Rachel have to look sheepish for? Nevertheless, Quinn took the hand to help her up, since she was feeling more than a little shaky.

"Quinn!"

She was nearly knocked over again by the force of the hugs enveloping her. Brittany and Santana liked to play it cool sometimes (well, Santana anyway), but when it came down to it they truly loved her.

"Q, why'd you have to go into that hallway! You know how easily I cry, don't you? I hate you almost as much as I love you," Santana was sobbing into her shoulder.

Brittany brazenly pressed a kiss to her mouth (that was a new one, but there was no tongue, thank god).

"Oh my Quinn, good thing we went and got Rachel so she could come and save you! We should have tried harder to get you to leave," The taller blonde said remorsefully.

"It's okay, I wouldn't have gone. I was too busy being…" Quinn met eyes with the diva, who gave her a small smile. Her chest tightened.

"…stupid," she continued, "just stupid."

After a lengthy battle, she extricated herself from the grips of her two friends. Berry, no –Rachel was coming closer and Quinn felt like there was no end to the things she needed to tell her. But where to start?

"Rachel," was the only thing that left her lips before a bright camera flash blinded her temporarily.

And now the previously quiet hallway was awash in the buzz of their forgotten spectators. Jacob Ben Israel was at the head of the pack, camera held aloft.

"Miss Berry, would you like to comment on today's near tragedy that you predicted earlier?"

Rachel rolled her eyes and Quinn stepped forward and grabbed her hand. It felt like a strangely intimate action.

"You guys know the drill, let us get through unless you like getting elbowed in the gut."

"Thank you. You saved my life."

They were alone now, like Quinn needed them to be. Her words echoed in the empty classroom and they seemed like not enough, not nearly enough. But were there words for what she was feeling right now towards Rachel? Maybe there were, but she didn't know if she could say them aloud.

"You're welcome. I didn't want to see you hurt," Rachel replied warmly.

It seems like her meagre words were enough.

"But how did you know?"

The brunette laughed and shook her head.

"I said it before and I'll say it again, I'm psychic."

"I almost believe you. But not quite," Quinn laughed. "But I'll stop my campaign against you. I know when I'm beat."

Rachel cast her eyes down and worried her lip.

"That's partially my fault. I shouldn't have pushed you to talk about your sexuality. It's none of my business and I should have known how you would react."

Rachel just needed to stop blaming herself for things, because Quinn already felt bad as it was. And that demure, downcast look was just making her feel going up to her and lifting her face up and then- She swallowed thickly.

"No, Rachel, it wasn't –I mean, you were right," She sighed.

The brunette's eyes lifted in surprise.

"I've been kind of confused about my feelings for women... well a woman," It was almost pathetic how much she was blushing right now, but more than anything she wanted answers.

"So could you maybe use your psychic powers to tell me what's up? Like am I straight, bi, lesbian, what?" Quinn looked to her expectantly, pleadingly almost.

She wanted someone to give her all the answers instantly, and if Rachel really was psychic Quinn would believe her, if only to get a little peace of mind.

Rachel bit her lip again.

"I'm sorry Quinn, but that's not how this thing works."

The blonde's heart sunk.

"What? Why? Because you're afraid you're going to get it wrong?"

"I don't have all the answers, Quinn. If you don't know what you identify as how am I supposed to tell you? Psychic or not. Would you believe me if I told you that you were actually a unicorn?" the diva asked lightly.

Quinn pulled a face.

"No."

"Well it's the same thing with your sexuality. Whatever I tell you, you're just going to believe what you want to… or what you're afraid might be true," the brunette almost murmured the last part.

As much as she wanted her answers the easy and quick way, she knew Rachel was right. She nodded in agreement, if a bit solemnly.

"And you might start resenting me for having told you, especially if it changes a lot of things in your life and how people view you. And I really don't think I could bear you hating me much more than you already do."

Rachel wasn't meeting her eyes again, looking on the verge of tears. Quinn felt like someone was slowly pressing all the air out of her lungs.

"Rach, you know that's not true. I don't hate you. I could never… I guess I just have to figure things out for myself," She didn't know what she was doing, but her hand was on Rachel's now, tracing soothing patterns. Letters, even. Saying all that she was too confused and frightened to say out loud.

The diva seemed to take heart at that, she smiled and nodded.

"We all need to do a little soul searching sometimes. To figure out what we want and what we need."

"Right. Speaking of need, I was thinking. You've saved my life, what? Twice now?"

Rachel looked like she was going to argue that point, but Quinn didn't let her.

"No, whatever you think, you really did, Rachel. In the end, you're my white knight, not the other way around," She grinned and squeezed her hand.

The other girl grinned back, a bit bashfully.

"And it seems like every time you get another big prediction right, you get a lot more attention than you already had. So I thought maybe I could try to pay you back for saving my life by becoming your security detail. I mean there's going to be a lot worse creeps than Jewfro out there and-" she was cut off by Rachel leaping into her arms in delight.

"Yesyesyesyesyes!" she blurted.

The former cheerleader's mouth gaped open in shock and it seemed that Rachel recalled herself and realised the position she was in. She scrambled off and patted down her skirt.

"Please?"

This was quite possibly going to be the most interesting thing she's ever been involved in.

Reporters swarmed around them, enclosing the front of the school completely. There was so much shouting that the combined voices ended up sounding much like the bark of elephant seals during mating season. Was that a good analogy or more like something Coach Sylvester would say? Quinn pondered that for a moment.

Actually it might be quite accurate. These reporters were certainly territorial, bumping the weaker ones away from the front, and they were full of lust for a good story. Given the chance they would squash poor little Rachel with their cameras and microphones and enthusiasm.

Quinn glanced over to the diva and found that, quite predictably, she was insufficiently terrified of the dangerous situation she found herself in. Rachel was fixing her hair and practically preening at the attention. The blonde shook her head disapprovingly and scoped out the crowd.

She had her work cut out for her. Taking a deep, calming breath, she wrapped an arm around Rachel's waist and tried not to think about how the girl seemed to lean into her touch. Now wasn't the time.

"Okay, remember: don't say anything."

She didn't wait for the brunette to respond before moving forward.

"Miss Berry-! Miss Berry-!"

"Get out of the way!" Quinn snarled so viciously that the reporter in front of her leapt backwards onto his cameraman.

It was overwhelming. The roar of the crowd, the way Rachel clung to her, the burn of her muscles as she brutally shoved people to the ground. And when they finally got away and into her car, she had only one thing left to say to Rachel.

"You suck."

Rachel gasped in indignation, bringing a hand onto her chest.

"I most certainly do not suck, Quinn!"

"Yes, you do. You're not really making my job easier by stopping to talk to the people that I'm trying to get you away from," Quinn complained while looking into the rear view mirror to make sure they had lost the news crews.

Ever since Rachel had helped police locate the gang of petty thieves that had kidnapped the mayor's dog, leading to a joyful reunification, the media had been all over her. They wanted to know all about her and her powers. And instead of becoming upset that they were focussing on her psychic ability instead of her singing ability she used every opportunity to showcase her talents. Most notably was when Quinn was escorting Rachel out of her house on the way to school last Wednesday and Rachel belted out a number to the reporters through the open window of Quinn's car, much to the blonde's chagrin.

"I'm sorry Quinn, I can't help how I get when there are cameras around. I'm addicted to the attention."

"Don't I give you enough attention...?" Quinn muttered, under her breath.

Rachel didn't seem to notice and went on, "And anyway, it's not a 'job', I never hired you and you're not obligated to spend any time with me if you don't care to."

She sounded upset. Quinn glanced over to the diva in the passenger seat. Rachel had her arms crossed and was staring determinedly out of the window, her mouth set in a thin line. Quinn was finding out that she had a talent at accidentally saying the wrong thing to the girl. The blonde sighed. Thankfully they were almost home –Rachel's home she meant –and they could sort this out. After she pulled into the driveway and parked, she turned to the other girl and made Rachel look at her.

"Rachel, I think the sheer number of musicals I've watched with you in the last month disproves the idea that I don't like spending time with you."

A sceptical look played on the brunette's face.

"You could just really like musi –"

"I don't," Quinn told her firmly.

She had never thought that telling Rachel that she didn't like musicals would get her anything but a horrified gasp and a lecture but Quinn had said exactly that and here was Rachel, blushing and smiling shyly at her. Quinn felt a lot of things in that moment, like the hitch in her chest and a sense of hopefulness, but what she didn't in any way feel was any sort of confusion.

"Did you… perhaps maybe want to watch Singing in the Rain with me?"

Whereas Quinn's brain was asking "Again? Didn't we just watch that one?" the girl herself simply nodded in assent, much to Rachel's delight.

So here she was on Rachel's couch again, watching a musical again, and once again she found that, most curiously, it felt so very natural to wrap her arm around Rachel's shoulders. Stranger still, the diva always sighed and cuddled into her side.

It was strange.

It wasn't nothing.

It was… something. But what exactly it was depended entirely upon the girl who was staring so intently at this movie that Quinn just couldn't pay attention to.

The blonde tried desperately to get Rachel to meet her eyes but she was focussed entirely on the screen. Once she tried to say something but the diva let out a drawn out "shhhhhhh" and pressed a finger to Quinn's mouth in a bid for silence. Finally, when the movie was nearly finished, Quinn took her arm from around Rachel's shoulders. That was bound to get the girl's attention.

She was right. Rachel's brows knit together at the loss of contact, but instead of turning to look at Quinn in question, she simply decided to scoot a bit further down the couch so that she could lay her head down in Quinn's lap while still watching the movie. She didn't even wait for the blonde to tell her it was alright, she just plopped herself down into this fairly intimate position as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

That was a good sign.

As was the sigh of contentment that came when Quinn started softly brushing Rachel's hair out of her face.

They just stayed like that for a while, remaining in the position even after the credits finished rolling.

"Rachel?"

"Yes?" the diva sat up now and stared at her expectantly.

Quinn really wanted to just go ahead and ask what she was thinking, "Is this what I think it is?" but what ended up coming out was something else entirely.

"How do you know all the things you know? How did you know about the flood, or the east corridor, or where the mayor's Pomeranian went?" She blurted.

Rachel chuckled softly and shook her head.

"Still? What do you think I'm going to say, Quinn?"

The answer rolled off her tongue naturally.

"That you're psychic."

"Exactly. I think you know by now how bad I am at lying to you."

She was pretty bad at it. Quinn found that out two weeks ago when Rachel had eaten the last vegan macadamia nut cookie (Quinn's favourite) while she was calling her mom to tell her that she was staying over for the night.

"So, do you believe me yet?" Rachel asked her, inching closer on the couch.

"Actually… yes," she said, surprised. It wasn't a lie. She had seen Rachel predict too many amazing things for her to hold on to her stubborn disbelief.

Rachel was even closer now, her eyes hooded. She was looking absolutely tempting. And now she was reaching out and caressing Quinn's face lightly. The blonde shuddered at the contact and licked her lip subconsciously.

Somehow, Rachel had wormed her way into Quinn's brain and now the blonde couldn't get her out. She didn't want to.

"And what do you see now?"

"You're... you're going to kiss me," the brunette sounded almost scared to say it, as if it wouldn't come true, even with Quinn drawing herself closer, a hungry look in her eyes.

"Wow, you really are psychic, aren't you?" The blonde laughed before pressing their lips together in a passionate kiss.