AN: For some reason, I can't keep my one-shoots under 5000. Ever.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, but if I did, Punk!Quinn would have lasted for more than one episode and the show would be moved to HBO because, hello, sex.

During their first encounter, Rachel smacks Quinn upside the head with a pillow. She doesn't think it's her fault, because who sneaks into someone's dormroom in the middle of the night? The girl with the pink hair, nose piercing, and clothes that screamed, "No one's ever hugged me," that's who. And to be clear, that's Quinn, not Rachel. Rachel Berry is the one who smacks Quinn, and Quinn Fabray is the pink haired psychopath who sneaks into people's bedrooms.

"Stop! Stop!" Quinn's half-laughing, half-fighting back the pillows. "I'm your roommate, you moron."

Rachel doesn't appreciate being called a moron, nor does she appreciate people lying to her. "Why did you come through the window, hmm?"

"Because I didn't want to wake anyone up through the front door." Quinn holds up a lanyard with an ID and keys dangling off it. "Look! I have proof."

That's how they meet, and that's the story Rachel's going to tell her friends and family days later when they ask, "How's the roommate?"

At first, Rachel is quite taken by Quinn. She doesn't know how to regard her – as someone to be intimated by, or someone who is misunderstood because of her countless layers?

Quinn rarely stays home, and when she is, she makes herself scarce and barely interacts with Rachel or their two other roommates, opting to hide out inside their shared bedroom. Rachel notices that Quinn likes to read and listens to music, a lot, and would always have those huge, flaming red Beats headphones on. She appreciates Quinn for respecting their space enough not to have – what she assumes – is hardcore, gangster punk-rock blasting throughout the apartment.

Quinn doesn't encroach on anybody. She keeps her messes to herself, cleans up after herself, and never asks anyone for anything. She pays her rent on time and zooms in and out of the dorm so frequently that at times, Rachel forgets she's living with three other people and not just two.

After two months in, Rachel decides she should probably get to know the person she's sharing a space with. She has her life scattered all over her side of the room; posters of musicals, her coveted trophies, pictures of her and her fathers on tables and walls, and her massive CD collection near their TV. Even her bed is full of character – large, pink, puffy and frilly.

All Quinn has is a dresser-drawer, her laptop, and one of those bookshelves you can mount on a wall, directly above her plain bed. She has a lot of books, but no CDs. All the music she listens to comes from the laptop. Everything Quinn does in the room or in the dorm revolves around the laptop.

"So what is it that you do?" Rachel asks one evening on the rare occasion that Quinn is home doing laundry. "With your major, I mean. I'm in musical theatre, by the way. I'm excelling in my first year, and I've heard rumors that the faculty wants to move me from Intro to Drama into an upperclassmen seminar because I'm far and above my peers. Just so you know." Rachel grins, proudly.

Quinn looks up in surprise, and slowly puts away a shredded t-shirt and equally ripped jeans into a pile. They obviously don't talk much, and when they do, it's light and trite and one step above asking about the weather. "I'm studying acting with a minor in Literature."

Rachel is surprise because, wow. She was expecting something along the lines of computer engineer or Grunge 101, but this is quite pleasant. The newfound knowledge just makes her more driven to know her roommate, now potential competition. "How come I've never seen you run lines before? You know that practice makes perfect, and since I'm also perusing a career in the acting field, maybe we can start running lines together."

Quinn's lips quirk up, and it almost looks like a smile. "Sure."

Quinn, Rachel has found out, doesn't like to talk much. When she's rehearsing though, it's a whole different story. Her bubblegum pink hair, unfortunate nose ring, and highly unhygienic looking clothes doesn't even distract Rachel from Quinn's acting. Quinn can play a distraught mother, a stoic cop, or a pale fruit fairly convincingly.

She's not as good as Rachel, but then not a lot of people can be as good as Rachel who's just a one of a kind talent.

Helping Quinn with her schoolwork is about as close as they get. Rachel tries to broach deeper subjects, like about Quinn's family or dreams or if Rachel would ever look good as a blonde, but Quinn's adamant about her walls.

Quinn still doesn't hang out with her or their other roommates outside of the dorm. She's friendly and accommodating, but Rachel wonders if she's only like that so that no one will bother her. There's something about Quinn that makes her extremely persistent in gaining that friendship. She's beginning to think that Quinn probably has no friends, because she's never seen the girl talk on the phone or bring anyone over.

She gets sad thinking about it; who doesn't have friends?

Sure, she didn't at the start of high school, but through sheer talent and undeniable charm, she managed to sweep her old Glee Club off their feet and now they're all best friends for life. She can do this now, using her talent and charm, to sweep Quinn off her feet and they too can be best friends for life.

So, right before Thanksgiving, and before everyone goes off to their respective families and states, she throws Quinn a surprise party. For what, nobody knows, it's just that Rachel wants to prove to Quinn that there are people out there who love her despite how scandalous she looks and how distant she can act sometimes. Rachel even went all out, throwing up streamers and confetti and making everyone shoot silly strings at Quinn when she enters the apartment.

It's safe to say that Quinn looks more horrified than happy at her surprise party. It's also safe to say that a little bit of Rachel cracks when Quinn immediately zip-lines to their bedroom without making one effort to say hi to any of Rachel's friends and worst, to her.

"Tell me why you're doing this again?"

Rachel finishes unpacking and turns to give Quinn her most show-stopping smile. She knows it's show-stopping because she practices daily in front of her mirror and it manages to dazzle even her harshest critic: herself. "Because I think it's unfair that you're going to be here alone on Christmas when everyone else will be going home to their families. I thought it was unfair when you stayed during Thanksgiving break without telling anyone either. I think as your roommate, it's my duty to keep you company, safe, and happy."

She skips over to Quinn and brushes invisible lint off her dazed roommate's shoulder. "Plus, I'm Jewish. My family doesn't believe in Christmas or being peer pressured into giving presents on a specific date when you should be giving presents to people you love any day and time of the year. That's why I have so much bling."

Quinn blinks several times before responding with a smirk, "You're just saying that so you could be showered with gifts all day, everyday."

"Well, obviously that." She drops down on her bed across from Quinn who's lounging with her legs ceremoniously spread out. "And I'm really, really curious as to what sort of present you'll be giving me for Christmas since I'm staying."

"I thought you were Jewish?"

"I am. But you're not."

Quinn laughs – genuinely laughs – and it warms all of Rachel's insides. She wonders if this is how children feel come Christmas morning.

They begin to hang out a bit more after that, but it's rarely outside of the dorm and Quinn is still as quiet as ever. Still, Rachel takes pleasure in knowing that she can hold a conversation with Quinn while their other roommates have a hard time getting Quinn to even say two sentences to them. It makes her stupidly giddy when Quinn becomes the one to initiate their little talks.

One night, Rachel catches Quinn singing and cooking something that smells suspiciously like burnt bacon and eggs. At first, the thought of someone cooking animal byproduct nauseates her, but then the thought of someone singing without inviting her along annoys her even more. The annoyance subsides when it sinks in that Quinn is the one singing. It's a bit sharp, but Quinn's alto voice rings pleasant to her ears. Quinn can definitely carry a tune, and she can definitely make Rachel stand back, appreciate, and enjoy.

Still, Rachel can only stand being sidelined for so long before she bursts into the second verse of Radiohead's Fake Plastic Trees in unison with Quinn.

It scares Quinn shitless, making her drop her spatula. "What the fuck, Rachel."

"Sorry, I never knew you could sing."

Picking up the spatula, Quinn avoids looking at her. "You never asked."

"I didn't realize that was an interest of yours. Well, now that the cat's out of the bag, I think…It wears him out, it wears him out…" She saunters up to Quinn and presses the other girl to join in. It takes a few probing fingers, cheeky smiles, and intentionally bad singing to get Quinn to join along. By the end of dinner, Quinn and Rachel had successfully started their own two-woman a cappella group, much to their roommates' displeasure.

"I never knew you listened to Radiohead," Quinn comments.

"And I never knew you could sing. I guess we're even now."

Quinn boops Rachel's nose, grinning cheekily. "Right."

They're at the start of February, nearing Valentine, when Rachel's stomach sinks, twists, and turns. It's been half a year since she broke up with the love of her life, her candlelight in the darkness, the Tara to her Willow, a Mr. Finn Hudson. She's still (slightly) heartbroken and spending a Valentine's Day without Finn is like spending an evening without air. She can't do it.

So she tells Quinn that one day when they're lying in their respective beds doing homework, and Quinn laughs for several minutes before saying, "You're so dramatic, you know that?"

"But I'm going to be alone for Valentine's Day! Who wants to be alone for Valentine's Day?"

Quinn gives her a look that says, 'Uh, me?' but Rachel isn't having it. She's starting to think that Quinn might even be asexual. The girl doesn't talk about boys (or ahem, girls), sex, or has shone any signs that she's attracted to anything. Of course Quinn wouldn't understand her pain.

But then Rachel has an idea.

"What are you going to be doing on Valentine's Day?"

"Slitting my wrists," Quinn says dryly.

Rachel scoffs. "I'm serious. What are you going to do for Valentine's Day?"

Quinn stops typing on her laptop and eyes Rachel suspiciously. "If you throw me another one of your surprise parties, I'm going to slit your wrists."

"No! I think I'm going to do it with you." Rachel's face grows red at the face Quinn makes. "No, no, I mean, I'm going to do Valentine's Day with you. Yeah?"

"No."

"Come on! It'll be fun!"

"I have stuff to do."

"Why do stuff when you can do me." Rachel's face grows even redder as Quinn laughs. "Okay, now you're just making this extremely awkward for me when all I'm trying to do is something that will benefit the both of us."

"Benefit the both of us? You know what I'm hearing right now? Me, me, me. A no is a no, Rachel."

Rachel pulls out her infamous pout. "Pleaaasseee."

Three days later and Quinn is taking her out to a dinner and a movie. As "friends," Rachel reassures her, because she can tell Quinn is uncomfortable since this whole thing must be new to her. By then, Rachel knows for an irrefutable fact that Quinn has never gone on a date before. She even lets Quinn pay for their dinner and movie because that's, "The least I can let you do. You've been very well behaved this entire evening, Quinn. I expected a bit more push and pull with you."

Quinn gives her a weird look but lets it go.

At the end of the date, she gets up on her toes and kisses Quinn on the cheek and a thanks for keeping her company. She feels happier than she has all week because she wasn't alone for Valentine's Day, and she's pretty positive that Quinn must feel happy too because, hello, Quinn gets to spend the day with a future EGOT winner and So You Think You Can Dance champion.

When Quinn flushes a bright tomato, ducking her head and avoiding eye contact, Rachel is even surer that Quinn has never been on a date or been in a relationship before.

So it all comes as a big surprise one evening when Quinn says she can't help her run lines because she's meeting up with her girlfriend. Rachel doesn't know what shocks her more, the fact that Quinn has a girlfriend or the fact that Quinn's definition of a date involves hitting up a 7/11 and having a dinner of hot dogs and Heineken in the parking lot.

"A girlfriend?" Rachel repeats, sounding like a boy whose voice just hit puberty – or Justin Beiber. (Sometimes, Rachel likes to akin herself to a talented female version of Justin Beiber.)

Quinn nods, wrapping a bandana over her pink head. "Um, yeah. Her name's Mack."

Rachel shakes her head, thinking the act might wake her up. "How long have you guys been going steady?"

"Um, two months?"

"Two months?" Rachel shrieks. "But…but we spent Valentine's Day together!"

Quinn turns around to face her, lip balm in her hand, and Rachel has a hard time focusing on anywhere but Quinn's lips as she speaks. Even though Quinn dresses like she just raided a homeless man's nonexistent closet, she still has a surreal face that supersedes any misguided fashion choice. When they first met, Rachel was more jealous of her beauty than enamored, and now she's just enamored.

"Yeah so?" Quinn says. "I don't celebrate Valentine's Day and neither does she."

"You could have told me you weren't single. Now I feel awkward and slightly aghast that I stole you away from your girlfriend."

"You didn't steal me away from anyone. I'm not meat."

"But –"

"Hey, no buts." Quinn crosses the room to shuffle her hair. Rachel gasps loudly because she spent a good deal trying to look pretty for Qui– for people, but Quinn manages to slip away before Rachel could retaliate with a whack. "Me and Mack aren't that serious."

"Mack and I."

"Me and Mack aren't that serious. I told her I was spending V-Day with you because you were feeling lonely and pathetic, and she didn't mind."

Rachel huffs, crossing her arm. "You're rude and your ability to be so aloof about this is off-putting."

Quinn chuckles then leans back in to tap her on the nose. "And you're cute."

Rachel's heart shouldn't thump the way it did, but it did and now she doesn't know what to do with that information. Quinn thinks she's cute. Quinn never uses words such as, "cute," or has ever addressed anyone's physical appearance. Just to think that Quinn has an opinion about her looks makes…it makes Rachel smile wider than she has since hearing about Quinn's girlfriend.

The delight only lasts for a few hours. After she's done bribing another classmate to rehearse with her and goes home to an empty room, she thinks about Quinn. She thinks about Quinn and her girlfriend Mack and wonders what parts of Quinn does Mack have, and are those parts the ones that aren't reluctant to sing around the house and use words like, "cute"?

Maybe she should write a song about this.

After learning about the mysterious girlfriend, Rachel wants to hear more about her with each passing day. She doesn't know how to drag information out of her roommate without coming off as a creepy stalker or someone who's more interested in other people's love lives than they were with their own. She already did that with Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman and it resulted in her hysterically sobbing in the corner for hours and more heartbroken for their breakup than they were.

She knows Quinn, the girl only talks about her life when she wants to. It took Rachel months to find out that Quinn has a sister and her parents are divorced. She can't just throw Quinn a party and go, "Now invite your girlfriend because I want to meet her!" She's already saving up the surprise party idea for Quinn's birthday and she doesn't want to repeat herself 3 times in one year.

She's seen Mack once and that was by pure accident.

She was walking home from an impromptu Shakespeare in the park performance when she spotted someone who looked like Quinn sitting in a car and playing tonsil hockey with another girl. Rachel only figured it was Quinn because of the badly dyed pink hair. Her body felt light yet warm and constricted all at the same time the longer she stayed and stared at the horrendous sight before her. Then her chest began to ache.

She had raced up to their dorm and slammed the door shut behind her.

So what if she spent that night stalking out Quinn's Facebook for any sign of the skanktastic girlfriend. She's looking out for a friend, she reasons. She also becomes (justifiably) angry when she notices that Quinn hasn't updated her status in months and the relationship status remains 'single.' She tries to look up Mack in Quinn's friends list but surprise, surprise, no one in their right mind would seriously go by "Mack."

This whole thing with Mack is irking her, and she blames it on Quinn for not telling her that she's been dating someone for months. Rachel understands the need for privacy if the relationship was fresh and uncertain, but for two months? That sounds like a legitimate, real deal relationship and something that she has the right to know about.

Rachel is the roommate and best friend forever after all.

What if she came home one day and saw some gothic looking reject from Hot Topic mounted all over Quinn? Since she wouldn't know who said reject was, she'd think Quinn was being attacked. She'd start defending Quinn by beating said reject with her bedazzled microphone, and then she'd call the police, only to later find out that the reject was Quinn's secret girlfriend. That would have been an embarrassing situation all around.

Or what if Rachel had a Broadway aspiring bisexual friend under 5'2 who was interested in her, and she tried to set them up only to find out that no, Quinn's not interested because she already has a girlfriend. That too would have been an embarrassing situation for everyone, especially for the aspiring bisexual friend who had her hopes up.

See, this whole thing with Mack is a big inconvenience.

She feels like Quinn is spending less and less time with her in their room, despite all her previous efforts to befriend the pink haired girl. Quinn won't be out saving cats or setting cars on fire, she'll be out macking on her aptly named girlfriend, Mack. What a waste of time. Who's going to stay up and watch Golden Girls rerun with Rachel now that Quinn will be too occupied?

Their relationship just isn't going to work for her.

"Quinn needs an intervention."

Julian and Ginny, Rachel's other roommates, briefly looks at her before setting their eyes back on the television. She has to plant herself in front of the TV to get their undivided attention, and she can tell that they're two seconds away from throwing popcorn at her. Really now, she doesn't understand why they're so obsessed with it. It's just a TV show.

"If we ask from what, can you please move out of the way?" Julian says, seriously.

Rachel nods.

"Good," says Ginny, moving both her head and finger side to side, as if that could ever intimidate Rachel. "Because Ryan is just about to kiss Lucas and I've been waiting all freakin' year for this so you're not about to ruin it with your rambling."

"Anyways," Rachel begins, ignoring her, "As I was saying, Quinn needs an intervention. Her girlfriend – a surprise girlfriend, mind you – has infiltrated our ranks and taken her away from us. As roommates, I think it's our job to bring Quinn back to our side and make her see the errors of her way."

"Uh, who's Quinn again?" Ginny asks.

"That's the other roommate," Julian clarifies. "I think we might have thrown her a coming out party once. Or maybe it was a get-well party. Or a birthday party. Or –"

"It was a 'Glad to have met you' party!" Rachel yells. "That's besides the point. The point is, Quinn's girlfriend is stealing her away from us and we do not want that."

There's a long pause before Julian asks, "Why don't we want that?"

"Because she's our roommate and friend, Moses!"

"Who?"

And that was the extent of a roommates intervention, because now it was clear to Rachel that it's all up to her. Apparently, their other roommates were as useful as an understudy during a Rachel Berry-starring play.

Her master plan involves pretending to be sick and making Quinn stay home to comfort her. When she tells Quinn that she hit a high fever and was advised to stay in bed while someone spoon-feeds her soup, Quinn simply cocks an eyebrow.

And leaves.

Quinn actually leaves the room while a (pretend) sick Rachel stays in bed, covered with her own (fake) sweat and (makeup) ashen face. Rachel is seconds away from chasing after her and demanding to know why she's being so callous (Rachel already knows – it's because of that insidious girlfriend) when Quinn returns to scoop up her leather jacket from a chair.

"Where are you going?" Rachel cries, Actress 101. "Can't you see that I'm sick and in need of –"

"I'm going to pick up some ginger so I can make you tea." Quinn gives her a quick kiss on the forehead. "I'll be back in a bit. Don't whine and annoy everyone else to death while I'm away, okay?"

Rachel smiles like a maniac and tilts up her forehead to receive another kiss. It makes her happy to know that Mack hasn't sunk her claws in so deep that it keeps Quinn away from caring about her friends and family. Maybe it's not too late for her to steal – err…get Quinn back on her side.

She waits, patiently, sometimes tapping a warm rag to her forehead, or powdering up her face to look like Lindsay Lohan circa-all her life, and other times doing semi-yoga on her bed. She goes through her DVD case to find the perfect trilogy for them to watch since it's a Saturday and they haven't done a Saturday marathon in centuries.

When Quinn returns, it's with food, some drinks, and a little smile. Rachel's heart warms as Quinn settles down on her bed and asks if Rachel wants company for the day.

Of course Rachel wants company.

And it's company that she can admit she desperately misses. An hour into Bring It On 2, she's reminded of how snarky and funny Quinn is toward movies they deem too nauseating to exist. So far, out of everyone she knows, Quinn is the only one who can understand how vastly inferior sequels are compared to the original – of any movie, ever.

Quinn just understands her in general.

It's after Bring It On: All or Nothing when Rachel sees Quinn fidgeting on the bed, cellphone out, that she gets annoyed and calls Quinn out on it.

"While I understand it's tempting to be connected with one's partner 24/7 in order to keep the passion going – I should know, I used to date Finn Hudson – I still find it incredibly rude to be on a phone while watching a film with someone else."

Quinn looks unimpressed by that. "I'm going to blame that out of no where sentence on your sickness."

"No! No!" Rachel snaps, untangling herself from the blankets and bed to stand in front of an unfazed Quinn. "Listen, I've held this in for far too long, and do you know what happens when I hold stuff in? Other people – innocent people, Quinn – end up making some of the worst mistakes of their lives. Like that time I held my tongue when we were deciding between Grey's Anatomy or Scrubs, and we decided on Grey's because you wanted it and I kept my mouth shut. And do you remember what happened? We became clinically depressed for weeks. Weeks! That was the worst show ever if you enjoyed happiness."

"I…have no idea where you're going with this," Quinn says.

"What I'm trying to say is," Rachel snatches a manila folder off from her desk and drops it on Quinn's lap, "that you're currently making one big mistake and I cannot hold it in any longer. This, my best friend and roommate, are your girlfriend's cellphone bills."

"And how did you manage to get this?" Quinn idly flips through the folder, but her eyes are trained on Rachel.

"I had asked Jacob Ben Isreal to help me hack her database in return for one of my…um…my, you know."

"No, I don't know."

"My uh…my panties," she mumbles, blushing.

Quinn blinks at her, emotionless, before tossing the folder aside. "So you paid someone off with your panties to get a look at my girlfriend's cellphone bills? Really, Rachel? Nothing about that sounds crazy to you at all?"

"No! You have to look at it again! Just last week she spent over 5 hours combined talking to customer service at ATT. Then the week before that she kept calling all these weird 1-800 numbers which I discovered were hotlines for Apple, Disney Store, and Urban Outfitters. Do you know what that means?"

Quinn stares.

"That means she's never satisfied!" Rachel says. "She's always on the phone with customer service because she has problems with her products, she enjoys fighting and arguments, and she'll do anything to get what she wants even if the customer is only ever right 10% of the time. Do you really want someone like that in your life, Quinn?"

Quinn narrows her eyes and it's seconds of silence before she asks, "You're not really sick, are you?"

"Of course not." Rachel rolls her eyes. "Why? Did I fool you? I thought I might have over-exaggerated that last coughing fit – hey, Quinn, wait, where are you going?"

Quinn leaves for real this time. Rachel decides to bring up Mack's emails at another date (why would someone have so many penis enlargement emails unless they've got something to hide?)

Quinn ignores her for the rest of the week.

The result is the complete opposite of what Rachel was aiming for, and she blames it on Mack because surely, Mack told Quinn to stay away from her only friend. That's what bad boyfriends and girlfriends usually do – they take you away from special people so that they're the only ones left. She should know, she used to date Finn Husdon.

One night, she tries to rectify the problem by surprising Quinn with a tear-jerking performance of Unbreak My Heart by Toni Braxton, a gesture to show Quinn's breaking her heart by ignoring her.

When Quinn enters the bedroom and hears the first words come out of Rachel's mouth, she promptly U-turns and shuts the door behind her. Getting over the initial shock, Rachel becomes all the more determined to get her Quinn back.

"I don't understand why you're trying so hard to do whatever it is that you're doing," Kurt, Rachel's bestfriend and gay soulmate, tells her over tea and biscuits.

She takes a sip of her tea, pinky finger in the air, and nudges her sunglasses up her nose. "You don't understand, Quinn's changed. If you knew her you'd know she's a different person now than she was before her girlfriend. I can't stand by and watch as she sinks into the dark abyss."

"Exactly how has she changed?"

She takes another sip. Then one more. Then sets her cup down and waves away his question. "That's besides the point. The point is that I want my Quinn back. I miss our Saturday movie marathons, our cooking and study sessions, her teaching me how to play guitar, me teaching her how to be a better performer, her –"

"Let me cut you off right now," Kurt says, a smirk appearing. "I don't know if you notice this, but Rachel, you're starting to sound like you're…um…like you're…"

"Like I'm what, Kurt?"

"Like you have feelings for her."

Rachel gasps. She squeals, huffs, and then tosses a napkin at him. There are a million things she wants to say but it's better if she acts them out versus verbalizing them. How dare he insinuate such preposterous –

"Hush you, there she is!" She suddenly squeals and lowers herself into her seat, fixing the large sunglasses firmly on her face.

"Huh? What are you –" Kurt's answer is in the form of Quinn Fabray and her girlfriend sitting down at a deli across the street. "You cannot be serious."

"Shhh, lets just sit and watch," Rachel says.

"Oh my god, you are serious." He looks at the oblivious couple, and then back to Rachel who has disappeared behind a newspaper that was not there 5 seconds ago. Was he just tricked into a reconnaissance mission? "I came here to have lunch with you, not to spy on your future leading man-woman-whatever!"

"She's not my future leading man-woman-whatever, she's Quinn Fabray and she's her own perfect person and she's – and she's – oh dear Moses, Kurt, I think I'm in trouble."

Ever since her talk with Kurt, Rachel has been completely flipped upside down and sideways. Not because of the whole Quinn is a girl thing because she's been bisexual since the day she learned what that word meant, but because Quinn doesn't even like theatre and how could her leading man-woman-whatever be someone who doesn't appreciate theatre? Rachel is torn because one, Quinn doesn't have taste, and two, she's happy for this minor setback if it means adding conflict to her memoir.

But first thing's first – how is she going to deal with this?

Quinn has a girlfriend, and although she already plans to sink that ship, she didn't realize that she, maybe, subconsciously wanted to break them up because she wanted Quinn. Because of this new factor, breaking them up now would be inappropriate and morally wrong.

"Still, I believe in happy endings, and she will not have a happy ending with that manipulative, customer service harassing bit-"

"Who are you talking to?"

Rachel snaps her head toward the bedroom doorway to see Quinn. "Oh, nothing – nobody – I mean, I'm making a v-blog for my Tumblr. Nothing too exciting."

"Right."

Rachel watches Quinn enter the room in her cut-off jean shorts, red flannel shirt, and dirty leather boots. Although she has always found Quinn's look grungy chic, she now can't help but think Quinn is also devastatingly beautiful. Quinn has the type of face plastic surgeons would use as an inspiration for and a booty that just won't quit. If Quinn ever does pursue this acting thing, she would be the perfect pin-up but also a highly respected actress like Charlize Theron or Kristen Stewart.

Why hadn't Rachel noticed this before?

She blinks several times to get out of her Quinn daze, but that doesn't seem to work because Quinn is now taking off her clothes until she's only in a pair of black boy shorts and a black wife beater. When Quinn looks up and meets Rachel's intense longing, Rachel pretends to cough and turn back to her laptop.

"Listen, Quinn," Rachel says, talking to her computer because looking at Quinn is like looking at the sun right now, "I know we haven't exactly been the best of friends lately but I think we should remedy the situation over lunch tomorrow afternoon. I know this is short notice but I think it's very important for us to –"

"Sure."

" –to, uh, excuse me?" Rachel faces her, watching Quinn fall on her bed.

"Sure."

"I – wow – wasn't expecting – I had an entire speech plan for when you reject me."

"Why would I reject you? It's not like you've been acting like an insane lunatic lately."

Quinn's teasing tone causes Rachel to side-eye her, but then the smirk on Quinn's face sets her heart ablaze and she wonders if this is what heartburn feels like (she wouldn't know – she's always eaten healthy and saved the horses).

She pretends to cough again. "So lunch then, tomorrow at noon? Our favorite spot?"

"Sure."

Quinn's smirk turns into a genuine smile, and Rachel has to duck her head shyly and return to her Tumblr because geeze, is it hot in here or is it just her?

Hanging out around Quinn while being aware of her harboring crush is like playing understudy to someone who you know is beneath you. It's unfair and cruel, but unfortunately, Rachel has to suck it up and go with the flow. So far she has come up with absolutely zero ideas on how to break up Quinn and Whatsherface, and no one – not even Kurt! – is willing to help her.

"You're quiet," Quinn says, knocking her feet against Rachel's. They're lying on Quinn's bed, watching Hairspray and sharing the world's worst butter-less popcorn.

The smile on Rachel's face can be described as ugly, because it's forced and full of teeth.

"Quinn, I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm just very into this exiting movie at the moment, so maybe that's why you're mistaking my silence for abnormality. However, if you'd like a running commentary on the film's attributes than I can surely provide some?"

Quinn smiles. "Ah, there's my verbose girl."

"Shut up." Rachel pouts and pushes against Quinn's shoulder. Instead of pulling away, she leans further into Quinn and begins playing with the other girl's fingers. They're long, slender, nails painted black, and sometimes she wonders what it'll feel like with them running through her hair, or down her spine, or inside her –

"Boop," Quinn says, flicking a finger on her free hand to Rachel's nose. "You're not watching the movie."

"I…I know." Rachel can't help the blush, nor can she help how ridiculously close their faces are to each other. Inches, centimeters, it feels like whenever Quinn breathes she's taking in the warm air. At this distance, she notices every speck and sparkle and color inside Quinn's iris. She notices a little scar on Quinn's forehead, the pink of her cheeks, the lack of any blemishes or imperfection on her face.

Quinn's beautiful, and she can't believe it took her this long to see it.

"Are you alright?" Quinn asks after Rachel's uncharacteristic silence.

"No. No, I'm not."

"What's –"

Rachel's lips are on Quinn's. Rachel's lips. Are on. Quinn's.

They're so warm and soft, softer than any boy's, and they carry a taste of bubblegum strawberry. They make Rachel's heart sore into the skies. They make applause on Broadway feel like a second place trophy. They're everything and so much more that Rachel's been thinking and dreaming of during the last few weeks.

And they're also not kissing her back.

It takes her 10 seconds into the 'kiss' to realize that Quinn's not kissing her back. It takes her another 10 seconds to gather whatever dignity she has left to peel away from the pathetic excuse of a kiss and face her humility. She can't even look at Quinn without wanting to barf up the thick rock that's currently residing in her throat.

"Whoa there, tiger," is the first thing that Quinn says, and it's also the last thing Rachel wants to hear.

She's off the bed in a flash. "Oh no, oh no, oh no I'm so stupid." Quinn joins her, but her attempts at calming Rachel down gets a frantic, "Please – don't – don't touch me."

"Rachel, it's alright, really." The amuse smile on Quinn's face begins to drop as Rachel paces. "Listen, I'm very flattered but I have a girlfriend and I –"

"No, don't," Rachel pleads, tears stinging at her sight. "I understand. I completely understand. My behavior was assuming, and I acted in a way that was perverse and wrong because you have a girlfriend. I once helped Finn cheat on his girlfriend and my punishment, my karma, was 3 years of back-and-forth relationship misery and heartache. In high school! Where everything was so dramatic already!"

She gets into Quinn's space and grips onto Quinn's black tank top. "I almost gave up my future to be his trophy wife, and I don't even know how to cook! All those fabulous dinners we had together? Those were Jenny Craig meals that I microwaved in secret!"

Rachel can see Quinn biting down on her lips to refrain from laughing. It's not funny – none of this is funny. She just made a giant fool of herself in front of her crush. Quinn will probably now sleep with the lights on and one eye open just in case the crazy, love obsessed (child prodigy, Broadway star, Barbra Streisand second coming, excellency) roommate has decided to surprise jump her in the middle of the night.

"I – I have to go," Rachel says.

"No, don't, listen," Quinn tries, but fails, at pulling on her serious face. "We don't have to make this awkward. We can pretend it never happened –"

Wrong thing to say, yet again.

Rachel's out of the room before she could humiliate herself further, or worst, Quinn could lose control and really laugh at her.

She avoids Quinn for the rest of the week. Quinn on the other hand, has made it her mission to track Rachel down. Oh, how the roles have reversed.

She finds all sorts of excuses to be out of the house, from needing to study for a math class that no one takes at NYADA, to having an audition for a super secret play under Steven Spielberg. The excuses, much to Rachel's dismay, doesn't work. It just prompts Quinn to question her more while simultaneously giving her a look that says, 'You're very crazy, and maybe you should be committed.'

A look that Rachel does not appreciate.

She's in their room when she has to be, which lately has been for sleeping. Her daily YouTube videos have been moved to the living room as well as her real study sessions, voice lessons, and her crunk practices. It's safe to say that her other roommates have begun to get even more annoyed with her.

Sometimes, when no one is around, she pumps up Alanis Morissette and cries to herself.

Other times, when people (who aren't Quinn) are around, she talks their ear off about the unfairness of unrequited love then cries to herself.

"You need to quit it."

"What?"

Rachel pauses her Spotify, which has been blasting Ironic for the last two hours straight, and swivels around in her computer chair to find Quinn. She wipes at her red, tear stained face and tries to straighten up her appearance. To be honest, a part of her had wanted Quinn to come across her dishevel getup and then beg for forgiveness.

"This," Quinn says, gesturing towards her look. "This whole moping around the house business is very unbecoming of you."

"You don't know me!"

"Rachel."

"You don't know my life, okay?"

Rachel's lower lip trembles, causing Quinn to soften her voice. "I've tried to talk to you for the last two weeks but all you've done is give me the kick puppy look then run away."

"I don't run away!"

"That's right, you storm out."

"I don't do– nevermind, that's irrelevant. In fact, what do you want again?" Rachel crosses her arm, turning her chair away from Quinn.

That does nothing because Quinn grabs the chair and swings it back, and then gives her a long look before sitting Indian style on the floor. Her breath catches when she takes a better look at Quinn. It's ridiculously unfair how Quinn just seems to have grown even more beautiful during their time apart. Quinn's gone makeup-less, with only a small tint of eyeliner, and she's not in her usual punk attire, just a pair of sweats and a black, sleeveless shirt.

It's unfair because while Quinn still looks like a 50s movie starlet, Rachel's sure that her dressed-down self looks like someone's left foot.

"Are we going to talk about why you kissed me?" Quinn asks patiently.

Rachel begins to nibble on her lip, and notices the way Quinn's eyes tracks the movement. "I think…I think it's wholly obvious as to why I kissed you. While I'm an advocate of people having emotional discourses, I think that in this instance we should just forget what happened and move on with our lives."

"Like what you've been doing lately?" Quinn teases.

She huffs.

Quinn laughs, reaching out and laying a hand on her knee. "Lets just be perfectly clear and honest. So you have feelings for me, right?"

"I – you –" Rachel pauses, slowly breathes in then finally nods.

"I figured as much."

"Then why are you making this so difficult? I know I'll never have you. I get it. Just let me wallow in my misery then I swear everything will eventually turn back to normal."

"Okay. Well, my sister's visiting, and I convinced her to let me stay with her at her hotel. That way, it'll give us both some breathing space." With a sigh, and a grip to Rachel's knee, Quinn pulls herself up. Her eyes linger on Rachel's face before she leans down and peck her softly on the lips. "Just so you know, I'd rather we not go back to normal."

Rachel has to remind herself to breathe when Quinn gives her a suggestive wink as a parting gift.

"She kissed me! SHE KISSED ME!"

"Oh my god, Rachel! It's 3 in the middle of the night, can you not scream in my ear?" Kurt screeches back over the phone.

"SHE KISSED ME! Then said we shouldn't go back to being friends and believes it's inevitable that we venture into the star-cross lover territory. Okay, that wasn't verbatim, but I'm pretty positive that's exactly what she meant."

"Rachel, Rachel, sweetheart, Rachel. It's 3. I have class in 4 hours. Can we please talk about this in the morning?"

"I think she likes me! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhheehee."

"Bye!"

Quinn disappears for the next two days to be with her sister, and Rachel has a hard time remembering what time to wake up, when to eat, where to shower, and what to do. Her room seems emptier, music doesn't sound the same, and Funny Girl is the last thing she ever wants to see.

Writers are liars, Rachel concludes. Because even though she's already written about her 2 days of despair in her memoir, the process is not cathartic. She misses Quinn so much she thinks she's going to die.

"Nobody knows…the trouble I've seen, nobody knows…my sorrow," she sings to her roommates, Julian and Ginny, who – unbeknownst to Rachel – have both made a secret blood pact with Quinn not to murder her before graduation. One annoying roommate is not worth jeopardizing their entire future, Quinn had told them during the ritual.

When Quinn finally comes home on a Tuesday at approximately 6 pm eastern standard time, Rachel has to hide herself in their bedroom. She doesn't want to do anything embarrassing, like undress Quinn in the middle of the living room and have her way with her. Although, she does have plans to do that as soon as their roommates are out.

"Hi," Quinn greets her, dumping her duffle bag inside their closet.

Quinn looks exactly the same – all pink hair, grungy clothes, and dirty boots. She speaks the same, struts the same, and even raises an eyebrow the same. Nothing about her has changed and yet everything feels like it's been shaken inside out, at least to Rachel.

"Hello," Rachel says back, shyly. She's sitting primly on her bed, but inwardly fidgeting and restraining herself. She wonders if this is how the average person feels, always having to withhold everything inside to save face. She doesn't like it.

The air is thick and hot as they do nothing but sit, stand, and stare at each other. Rachel catches the glimmer of shine in Quinn's eyes, the way her lips curl upward into a barely there smile, and the way her shoulders slump and relax. For her part, Rachel doesn't dare move or act or outwardly emote. The last time she did that she made a fool of herself.

She expects Quinn to come to her.

Which Quinn does, tiny step by tiny step. In ten heartbeats, Quinn is standing at the foot of her bed and gently cupping her cheeks. A bright smile stretches across Quinn's face and she's looking at Rachel with the warmest pair of hazel eyes Rachel has ever seen since…okay, so she's never met anyone else with hazel eyes before. So what?

This is like a scene straight out from one of her favorite romantic comedy films, except Quinn is anything but a leading man.

"Did you enjoy your breathing space?" Quinn asks.

"No. It was torturous and the worst type of punishment."

"You're so dramatic."

"You're so beautiful."

Quinn's smile drops, and suddenly everything becomes more serious than playful. "I broke up with Mack. Right after you kissed me the first time."

Rachel doesn't know what to say, so she nods and licks her lips. She's a bit peeved though. Quinn's been single all this time without her knowing and she could have snuck into her bed anytime she wanted? What the hell, universe.

"I think you're beautiful too," Quinn whispers over her lips. "The best thing I've ever seen."

"Oh, yeah?" she smiles, pressing their lips together. But just barely. "Better than watching that documentary on Che Guevara that you wouldn't stop talking about for days?"

Quinn kisses the corner of her mouth then her lower lip. "Better."

"Better than me laying eyes on a signed Pattie LuPone show bill?"

"Much." Quinn lays another one on her chin then peppers kisses along her jawline.

"Better than me laying eyes on a signed Barbra Streisand show bill?"

"Oh, god, so much better."

"Shut up," she giggles before rejoining their mouths and pulling Quinn onto her bed.

They go slowly, because Quinn has never been with someone as emotionally charged as her, and she's never been with someone as emotionally stunted as Quinn. She likes to think that they even each other out, because when she goes off the rails, Quinn humbles her down, and when Quinn becomes distant and cold, Rachel makes her feel alive. She's the left to Quinn's right.

She also isn't an easy girl. She makes Quinn wait after three dates before they even consider crossing second base.

But then it sort of steamrolls from there and they don't even bother going on a fourth date before Quinn has her hand underneath Rachel's plaid skirt and Rachel has her handful of Quinn's bare breasts. It's during the middle of their fifth date that Quinn has her head between Rachel's legs and Rachel's biting down her fist, not wanting their roommates to overhear since it was supposed to be a quiet dinner and a movie date in the living room.

Kurt likes Quinn enough, although he still cowers away whenever she throws one of her irritated scowls at him. Quinn's sister tolerates Rachel as long as Rachel doesn't do anything too excessive, like plan a family bonding yacht cruise for a family she hasn't met yet (that was one time!). Julian and Ginny thinks Quinn is crazy for dating Rachel, and Rachel is suicidal for dating Quinn.

Mack tries to punch Rachel in the face after they randomly bumped into each other at a concert Quinn had dragged her to. Fortunately, Quinn's ex must have been high on something because she miscalculates and lands a punch against some other poor girl's crotch. What was a modest mosh pit turns into an all out brawl with both Quinn and Rachel pushing, shoving, and karate-chopping their way out of.

It's during their 6th month anniversary when Rachel asks Quinn the crucial question.

"What are we going to tell our grandkids when they ask how we met?"

Quinn puts down her book and cocks an eyebrow. "That I snuck into your bedroom one night and you assaulted me with a pillow?"

"No, Quinn! That's inappropriate. I need something epic to tell our grandkids and put into my memoir."

Quinn chuckles, tosses her book aside, and then crawls over Rachel's sprawled body. She pecks her twice on the nose. "What am I going to be, a footnote in your masterpiece?"

"Oh, no, Quinn, you're at least a chapter or two. Now give me something romantic to go on or else you can settle on being a paragraph."

"Ouch. Just say I fell for you the moment you asked me to sing Radiohead with you. Or can't you just plagiarize something from one of your Disney princess story books?"

Rachel hooks her arms over Quinn's shoulder, her legs over Quinn's calf, and pulls the top girl even closer. They're in short shorts and tanks, bra-less, and the feel of her girlfriend's solid and warm body momentarily takes Rachel's mind off her question. Momentarily. "I'm a professional, not E.L James. Do you want to hear what I wrote for your intro?"

"Would I have to stop this?" Quinn whispers, nuzzling Rachel's neck and biting the flesh there.

Rachel fists Quinn's messy, fading pink hair, and arches into her kiss. "No, I have it memorized –" She gasps at one of Quinn's sharp nips." – I – I have 50% of my manuscript memorized in case of emergencies like accidental fire –" Another bite has her groaning and thrusting her hip toward Quinn's grinding slim one. "Would – would you like to hear it?"

Quinn doesn't care, she's too busy sucking and licking at Rachel's nape, so she nods.

Rachel draws in a deep, calming breath and recites, "'With my acceptance into NYADA, I thought had achieved absolute happiness in my 18 years of life. That all changed one day when Quinnifer Lucy Fabray entered it.'"

"What the fuck," Quinn snaps her head up. "My name isn't Quinnifer."

Rachel tsks. "Language. And maybe you should help me with my memoir, lest I forget other important details, Quinnifer."

"God, you're so evil."

"You're so perfect."

Quinn gives her a soft smile then an Eskimo kiss. "I love you."

"I know."

Laughing, Quinn finds the nearest object and ends up smacking Rachel upside the head with a pillow.