Disclaimer: This is entirely a work of fiction. These characters are not mine. I own absolutely nothing, and I hate that fact, seriously.

Spoilers: The whole season 2 to be safe. *spoilers for the faberry duet*

A/N: This is inspired by listening over and over to the I feel pretty/unpretty mash up. So many feelings. ;_;

A/N2: Big thanks to my ninja!beta. You know who you are. :)

If there's a perfect moment to doubt Quinn Fabray's intentions, Rachel thinks, this is it.

First, she volunteered to write an original song with her for Regionals. But the more surprising part was that Quinn had stood up for her to everyone else, including William Schuester—the person she swears is set on destroying her career—and Santana, Quinn's on-and-off again friend slash enemy. Everybody knows that Quinn doesn't do things for no reason, so no one can really blame her for getting suspicious when the girl had concurred with her while the rest had shot her down easily.

Secondly, Quinn sings a song with her, voluntarily again if she might add, in front of the whole Glee club, including Quinn's current boyfriend: Finn Hudson. And it's not just any song, but rather something Rachel had always wanted to sing, ever since she'd stepped foot in McKinley High and the very first slushie was hurled in her face.

Rachel finds it ironic, because Quinn is singing about insecurities with her, of all people, when the girl doesn't have anything to be insecure of. Quinn has got it all; the looks everyone so wanted, and she's got the boy that almost every girl is dreaming of having.

Really, Quinn has got it all, so why sing with her?

It screams of something, something that Rachel can't quite put a finger on, but it's clear. Quinn is up to something—maybe vengeance, or further humiliation—she's not sure. She has seen this in movies countless of times. It's the most basic trick in the book. Earn someone's trust, then run them over when you get the chance.

If this isn't a scheme, Rachel doesn't know what else to call it.

Mr. Schue holds them for fifteen more minutes before he dismisses Glee, patting everyone on the shoulder as they go, and leaving reminders for their musical assignment; more original songs, preferably not the likes of Trouty Mouth and Big Ass Heart, and as he specifically pointed out, Only Child. Rachel rolls her eyes at this.

She's the last to leave, or at least she thinks she is, until she hears Finn call out to Quinn, asking her if she's ready to go. Rachel doesn't turn around, because she doesn't need any more reminders that she no longer has Finn. He's got someone else already, who isn't her, but someone pretty—beautiful even. As much as it would pain her to admit it, she is no match.

Quinn is like the kind of fireworks people would pay huge amounts to watch, while she's just the free show, the front act; the kind that people often turn down and shout boos at.

"I'll be right over," she hears Quinn say. "I just need to finish something."

The squeaking of Finn's shoes follows, and then the sound of the door shutting to a close.

Rachel knows, without even looking, that they are all alone now, and her suspicion only grows. This is the perfect moment for Quinn to execute whatever plan she has in mind; the perfect moment for Quinn to be mean and to tear her down, more than how she did back in the auditorium. (That was an entirely different story though; that is, the cracks in Quinn's armor, and probably the only reason she's clinging on to the continued trust in the girl.)

She hears movements, the swish of Quinn's dress as she walks. She pretends to fumble with the things inside her bag in turn, one hand absentmindedly pinching her nose.

Rachel almost shouts in pain, but she manages to bite down the scream and push the painful groan back down her throat. How could she even forget that her nose is broken and swelling?

"The band aid's peeling off."

She freezes on the spot, feeling the sudden close proximity, and the heat radiating off of Quinn. She debates with herself for a few beats as whether to turn around or not, but she's Rachel Berry, and manners have always been inculcated in her very essence. So she does.

"Yes, Quinn?" Rachel asks as she cautiously turns to face the girl. "I beg your pardon?"

"The band aid," Quinn raises a finger and points to her own nose, "it's peeling off."

Rachel tries to look down at the medical plaster, going cross-eyed in the process. She doesn't want to risk laying another hand on it, being that the pain that shot through her a while ago was almost unbearable.

Quinn lets out a suppressed giggle in turn, which she quickly disguises as a cough.

Rachel blinks twice, and swallows thickly. "I see. Well, thank you for pointing that out Quinn."

A light shrug rolls off the blonde's shoulders. Rachel doesn't really have anything to say in response, so she just mumbles a soft 'excuse me' and begins to rummage through her bag for the spare band aid she has brought with her earlier.

Quinn doesn't move from her place however, as she just watches Rachel go around her things and look for her small first aid kit, and the brunette admits it to be a little distracting.

Rachel, for her part, is honestly torn between wanting to ask why Quinn is still standing there, or just waiting for the scheme to unfold itself. After all, it might not be long. (Her only consolation is that no one else is around to witness whatever kind of humiliation she would be subjected to.)

Normally, she would not have gone down without a fight. But she's tired, and her nose is already broken, and that song, that mash-up has taken its toll on her, with its underlying meaning and Quinn's ever unclear intentions. Not to mention, the way Quinn is looking at her now. For once, she doesn't want—actually, she refuses to think, and she just wants whatever is about to happen, to carry on. Get this over with.

She finally finds the first aid kit, but it doesn't have what she's looking for, so she throws it back inside with frustration, completely ignoring the way Quinn's eyebrow shoots up. She guesses she'll just have to wait till she gets home to get the bruise on her nose properly treated. She sighs.

It's silent until Rachel figures she'd have to say goodbye to Quinn, like, right this moment, or her head would explode with overthinking and over-analyzing if she doesn't.

Quinn is still quiet, though she jerks into motion, as if she suddenly remembered something, and she's searching through her own stuff.

Rachel opens her mouth to speak, to bid the girl a polite goodbye, but Quinn's already holding a piece of band aid in between her fingers—almost ready to peel—and Quinn is saying, "Hold still."

Rachel's defensive stance kicks in, and she instinctively pulls away.

The blonde clucks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, letting out a sound of disapproval. "I said hold still, Berry. Don't move." She tries a second time, arms slowly extending towards Rachel's face, and she almost shouts when Rachel takes a fumbling step back. "What part of hold still and don't move do you not understand, Rachel?"

"W-what?"

"Stop moving," Quinn hisses, less sharply than her usual tone, though it's still enough to make Rachel flinch.

Rachel thinks that Quinn must've noticed, because her voice changes and it's softer when she says, "Don't move. I might miss and hit your nose instead."

She's still as confused as hell as to why Quinn is suddenly being kind, but she remembers the pain enough that she does what she's told. She closes her eyes, half-expectant of the jolt that might hit her when the band aid lands on the offended part, and half-guarded, just in case Quinn pulls something out of nowhere.

Unknowingly, Rachel holds her breath.

She feels Quinn's fingers lightly peel off the one already on her nose, the pad of Quinn's soft finger gently brushing against the bruise a few times, as if it's going to magically heal under her touch. She feels the soothing way Quinn flattens the newly plastered band aid in place, but more so, she feels the way Quinn's hot breath hits her skin, raising goose bumps that shoots straight to her spine.

When she opens her eyes, Quinn is standing a little closer, and Quinn's eyes are almost leveled with hers. It's a breathtaking sight, to see Quinn this close with no personal space and everything else, and she swears she can almost count the freckles of brown scattered all over hazel.

"Quinn…" Rachel swallows visibly. A part of her, the guarded part, is still waiting for the humiliating thing to happen. The rest of her is swirling in a daze, with Quinn's scent and the heaviness of Quinn's gaze, and the proximity invading her senses.

Quinn doesn't speak, but instead just runs a finger over the already covered bruise.

Rachel's close to urging Quinn to just do it, because she's done with waiting, and she just really, really wants the day to be over. Besides, she can feel it in her bones, can feel it with her sixth sense.

Something is at least going to happen.

Quinn does catch her off guard though, but not with vicious words, or name calling, or anything mean for that matter. Instead, Quinn rasps, "You're pretty you know?"

Rachel's at a total loss at this, rendered speechless for the first time in her life. This is Quinn Fabray, her supposed arch-nemesis. And as far as society—even the movies—go, arch-nemeses are not supposed to show compassion towards the other, let alone praise her.

It can only be a trap.

Quinn is throwing the balance. Quinn is destroying the norm. This isn't what it's supposed to be.

"You're pretty," Quinn repeats, this time with a heavier conviction that even Rachel herself can't deny. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

"Quinn—"

"Not even me," Quinn adds softly, and Rachel swears she glimpses the ghost of a genuine smile.

Silence takes over, and everything in Rachel's world turns still, until Quinn squares her shoulders, not waiting for any response at all as she turns around in quick steps.

But the blonde doesn't leave completely either without one last glance over her shoulder, and a reminder. "Keep that in mind, Berry."

Quinn is gone even before Rachel can comprehend anything that has happened, and all that's left as proof is the band aid laid flat on her nose, marked with red hearts, by the marker she's sure Quinn owns.

If there's a perfect moment to doubt Quinn Fabray's intentions, Rachel thinks, this is it.

But she'd let this one slide, at least for now. She smiles.