IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ

So some of you may be aware of the controversy of this story, which is why I have edited this Author's Note for future readers. This story contains BOTH Quinntana AND Faberry, however only one is endgame. It is tagged as both because when I started writing it I didn't know who I would write as the endgame.

This means that you can either read the story and leave the mystery a mystery, if you don't mind not knowing, OR you can skip to the very last chapter and scroll right down to the bottom, where I have added an authors note outlining who the endgame is, for those of you who wish to know.

I have already received reems and reems of abuse for this story, which is why readers are now able to skip to the end in case it turns out to not be there endgame, however like I say, all of the characters are still tagged and the description says both pairings as both take place throughout the story.

Sorry for the lecture/essay, but I felt it needed to be said to avoid misleading anyone. Thank you, and it hope you enjoy the story!

I've got a shelf full of books and most of my teeth, two pairs of socks and a door with a lock – Paolo Nutini, Pencil Full of Lead

"Hey, Q! Do you have any eggs?"

Quinn frowned, her lip curling in confusion at the voice calling from the kitchen. Barney clattered back and forth on the hardwood floor below her, and she rubbed her sleepy eyes with the side of her fists. Padding down the staircase in her pyjamas, she winced as the cold metal pressed her skin through a hole in the bottom of her sock. As always, Barney met her at the bottom, barking excitably and almost drowning out the sound of movement from the kitchen. She couldn't help but grin as she watched him waiting patiently, and quickly stooped down to ruffle his ears as she passed, eager to discover why there was an alien voice in her kitchen.

"Hey, Mister. How's tricks?" She asked casually, imagining his reply, "Did you sleep okay?" She paused again, "Good."

She rounded the corner and her questions were answered as she saw Santana stood in the corner, busying herself by rooting through the fridge, "Seriously, Q!" She called, "This whole talking to your dog thing has gone too far. He's never going to reply. Eggs?"

Santana was always telling her that it was sad that Quinn had a faithful companion to spend her time with. Apparently unconditional love from another creature was pathetic. But when she considered that Santana had the emotional range of The Hulk, it was unsurprising that she didn't understand.

The apartment was airy and spacious, with hardwood floor downstairs and bare brickwork stretching up to the high ceilings. A wrought iron spiral staircase stood proudly in the centre of the room below a large skylight in the roof, separating the living and dining/kitchen area and leading up to a maisonette balcony housing the bedroom and bathroom. A large wooden desk acting as a work-station sat unassumingly in the corner, scattered with various intricate cogs and delicate tools. In the living room there was a large comfy sofa – covered by a tattered patchwork blanket and a thin layer of dog-hair – that swallowed anyone who attempted to sit on it and a thick-piled rug covering the cold wood floor. Opposite the sofa there were two huge windows – original features from when the apartment building was a warehouse, and an acoustic guitar sat on a stand in the corner, whilst the walls were covered with bookshelves, various photographs, paintings and fabric wall-hangings.

Quinn had to admit, it definitely needed a tidying up. She was constantly making excuses for the magazines and instruction manuals piled up either side of the TV, stacks of old books being used as end tables, clothes strewn over the bedroom floor and the occasional dirty plate left overnight on the coffee table. She tried not to acknowledge the mess, finding that it just left her feeling guilty. The apartment was nothing special, but aside from the mess she liked to think she'd done a good job of making it her own, and usually it was nice that Rachel and Santana could come and go freely – although sometimes too freely.

"Um, no?" Quinn looked at Santana like she'd gone insane – which she was worried could be true – and turned to the coffee maker. If she was going to survive any interaction with Santana this early on a morning then she needed coffee. To her surprise, the brunette thrust a full cup into her hands, and she accepted it gratefully. The blonde stared down at it for a second, attempting to comprehend why Santana was almost behaving like a normal human, before taking a large sip, relishing the hot liquid and turning her attention back to Santana's presence with a bewildered frown. "Hey. Santana?"

"Yeah?" The girl didn't look up as she slammed the fridge shut with a sigh and turned to the cupboards. Quinn prodded Barney with her toe as he trotted over to Santana to inspect her actions, and the girl resigned herself to greeting the golden retriever with an absent-minded pat on the head. He wasn't the smartest dog, but he sure was persistent.

"Why are you in my apartment?" Quinn asked simply. Santana sighed heavily, turning on her heel to face Quinn with a look of affronted shock.

"Wow. Rude." She raised her eyebrows, "I expect better of you, Quinn." She added solemnly, and the blonde raised her eyebrows incredulously.

"Santana, its eight am! And my day off. And you woke me up." She listed begrudgingly, but the brunette rolled her eyes.

"Your day off?" Santana repeated scathingly, "Please, what exactly am I keeping you from?" She raised an eyebrow challengingly, and Quinn opened her mouth to reply, closing it again quickly when she couldn't think of any plans she had had, aside from relishing having the whole bed to herself after making Barney sleep downstairs for a change, "Exactly. Sorry to force you into human contact, Q."

"Rachel's coming over later." Quinn countered triumphantly, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Ooh, your girlfriend." She taunted, brushing her off with a shrug, "Whatever. Seeing Berry is like seeing me but less interesting, entertaining and tolerable. It doesn't count as socialising."

"Why not?" Quinn frowned petulantly. Both of her best friends insisted on harassing her about her (lack of) social life almost every time they saw her. Think that might get monotonous and irritating? Yes. Yes it did.

"Because you need to spend more time with real people than just your two best friends!" Santana replied exasperatedly. This was a conversation they'd had many times.

"I see Rachel's dads, too." The blonde shrugged.

"Still doesn't count! You don't even leave your apartment to goto work. Like, what do you even do? Are you a phone sex worker?"

"You know what I do." Quinn scoffed, placing her cup on the counter and hoisting herself up beside it.

"I have no idea what you do." Santana shook her head and Quinn's jaw dropped with indignant irritation, "But honestly, I don't particularly care; you don't have the experience to be a sex worker. Anyway, unlike you, I'm going to work soon, I just wanted some breakfast."

"So you decided to grace me with your presence?" Quinn raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"Yes." She replied sweetly, "And also, I kind of I need a favour." She added in one breath, and Quinn rolled her eyes.

"What do you want now?" She asked, staring evenly at Santana, "More money? My iPod that you never returned? Barney? My kidneys?"

"Ugh, don't be so dramatic." Santana rolled her eyes impatiently, "Plus, like I'd even want your lumpy dog. Although, your kidneys are in better shape than mine, so…dibs." She chuckled, "I just need to borrow a pair of tights. I laddered mine on the way here and I have work in..." she checked her wrist before realising she had no watch, and looked to the clock on the kitchen wall, "Half an hour. So…you know, hurry along." She waved a hand and the blonde quirked an eyebrow.

"Um, firstly, he may be lumpy but he is also handsome and clever. Aren't you, Barnster?" She raised her eyebrows at the golden retriever, who wagged his tail in a clueless response, "Also, don't think I can help you. Sorry." Quinn shrugged and Santana's lip curled in confusion.

"What?"

"I don't have any tights." The blonde replied, jumping off the counter and turning to open the cupboard she had been sat in front of, pulling out a box of cereal, "Get me a bowl."

"What do you mean you don't have any tights?" She looked incredulously at the blonde as she leaned down to open the cupboard door beside her, gathering two bowls and spoons for good measure.

"I don't have any." Quinn repeated, "Why would I? I never wear dresses."

"Yeah but like, I never wear underwear, but I still own a few pairs." Santana countered as the dog lost interest and padded out in the direction of the sofa.

"Well, sorry," the blonde shrugged, unaffected by Santana's previous comment, "But I don't wear tights, nor do I own them." She finished pouring her cereal and left the kitchen, shoving Barney over to settle herself beside him on the sofa. "Why do you need tights anyway? Where's your uniform?" She craned her neck to look over the back of the sofa, watching as Santana quickly poured herself a bowl and hurried out after her.

"Some dude is visiting from Head Office and I'm supposed to show him around." The brunette explained dismissively, squeezing into the limited space beside Quinn. The blonde huffed as she shifted closer to Barney, "It's actually kind of nice to have a day without luminous yellow striped pants." Santana continued, "However, what am I supposed to do about tights? I can't go to work with this!" She raised her leg with a severe lack of grace, holding her foot aloft to reveal a huge ladder from her knee to the inside of her thigh.

Santana had been a member of the New York Fire Department for five years, ever since she'd given up teaching ballet to snotty rich kids whose parents were usually something up-and-coming in the city. Now she spent her days fighting fires, or more often saving cats from trees, and relished the opportunity to tell random hot girls that she was one of New York's unsung heroes.

"Well, I would say don't lift your leg like that, but I know keeping your legs shut isn't your forte." Quinn chortled through her mouthful, smirking to herself.

"Haha." Santana dead-panned, "At least my legs aren't welded together, Sandra Dee. Now stop drooling over my thighs."

The blonde ignored the comment, flicking the TV on and switching over to a documentary about the Third Reich.

She was used to all of Santana's jibes about being a virgin, or frigid or a lesbian, or whatever idea she liked to entertain that day. It had got to the stage where it was water off a duck's back; Quinn called Santana a slut, Santana called Quinn a virgin, they both moved on with their lives. As Quinn was contemplating how two such good friends could be so abusive, she had light-bulb moment. She knew Santana wouldn't like it, but she was desperate.

"Oh!" She turned to Santana, "Well, Rachel's coming over in a little while, I can ask if she'll come early and bring tights?"

Santana's face contorted into an expression of disgust, "Ew. No. Firstly, like hell I'm putting my legs into anything that's had her stumps in them. Secondly, no way her hobbit britches would fit me. Thirdly, I intend to be gone a long time before her dwarf stench even enters your hallway." She shook her head, staring at Quinn disappointedly, "God, Q. I'm desperate, not brain-damaged."

Quinn rolled her eyes through the girl's speech, turning her attention to the figures on the screen as she ranted instead, "Okay, well she's coming at ten so you're all clear. And don't be so mean about her." She glared at the brunette, who snorted.

"Oh, please. It's not mean if it's true. It's honesty." Santana smiled sweetly, and the blonde stared at her thoughtfully for a second.

"That zit on your chin is really noticeable, by the way." She informed her with a polite smile, "Its honesty." She turned back to the TV, chuckling inwardly as Santana stared blankly at her, torn between insecurity, defensiveness and coming up with a biting comeback. She liked rendering Santana speechless.

She turned back to the TV, disgruntled, "So why is the hobbit coming over anyway? Do you need to polish your floors with her back hair?"

"No, she's coming to exorcise you from the apartment." Quinn replied without missing a beat, "We're just hanging out. We're both off work and we're having dinner with her dads tonight."

"Wow. That sounds like a joy." Santana's eyes widened sarcastically, "I physically can't imagine anything worse than dinner with three Berry's."

"They're nice people!" Quinn defended, "You know they are. I get that you don't like Rachel but you can keep your opinions to yourself." Santana rolled her eyes and Quinn resisted the urge to copy her, "I know you like to think you're my world just because I've known you longer, but Rachel is my best friend too. Plus her dads are totally awesome and they never complain about looking after him." She nodded to Barney, who lay peacefully beside her, glancing between the girls and the screen. Quinn liked to think he was giving an input that they were ignoring.

Quinn had a pretty good deal with Rachel's dads. They lived in an apartment incredibly similar to Quinn's – only considerably less messy – conveniently placed two streets down from her own, while Rachel lived further into the city. Their apartment was constantly full of various dogs, cats and birds, as they were both suckers for a stray animal. This meant that whenever she did ventureout, usually for groceries or when Rachel and Santana forced her into some awkward social situation, they were always willing to add Barney to the existing menagerie of animals in their apartment.

"Whatever." Santana dismissed, "They can't be that nice, they raised that Israeli hell-child."

She finished her cereal and pushed herself off the sofa, taking Quinn's empty bowl from her and depositing both in the kitchen.

"Anyway, if you can't help me I'll have to buy tights on my way to work, so I guess I'll see you later." Quinn turned her head to nod as Santana pushed her feet into her shoes.

"Sorry I couldn't help you." The blonde replied regretfully, but Santana shrugged.

"No problem. Enjoy your date with Berry." She added scathingly, rolling her eyes before turning on her heel and exiting the apartment with a wave. Quinn sighed heavily.

"What was that?" She gazed wide-eyed at Barney, who lifted his head to rest it on her leg, "I know right? Eight am! We could have had another hour, Barn-Door." She shook her head sadly, "It's okay for you, you'll go back to sleep on Rachel's lap as soon as she gets here! Little monkey."

She rolled her eyes as the dog's eyelids shut slowly, before pushing herself off the sofa and padding up the staircase with a yawn. She picked her way across the floor, avoiding various items of clothing, and pulled a pair of sweats and a t-shirt from the floor, showering quickly before returning downstairs. She sighed as she settled herself on the sofa, gazing around the apartment.

Biting her lip, she cut her gaze across to the desk in the corner, quickly averting her eyes.

"Should I do it, B?" She twisted her mouth at the dog at her side, who lifted his head to drop it onto her lap, gazing up at her with wide eyes. "I know I shouldn't. It's supposed to be my day off." Barney lay silently beside her, and she sighed heavily, gazing across at the desk again. "I could just finish making the parts so it's ready for assembly in the morning?" Barney's eyebrows appeared to twitch, and she relented, "Okay fine. I'll do it all tomorrow then. Spoilsport." She added bitterly, before taking a deep breath and brightening, "You wanna go for a walk?"

The retriever immediately jumped off the sofa with a small bark, and Quinn nodded reluctantly, "I thought as much. Okay, come on then."

She clambered to her feet and grabbed her battered skate shoes from beside the sofa, collapsing the backs as she forced her feet inside. After lifting her hoodie and Barney's collar and lead off one of the coat-pegs, she crouched down on her haunches to clasp the striped collar around the excitable dog's neck. Pulling on her hoodie, she pulled the door shut behind her and tugged on the lead as Barney attempted to drag her down the single flight of stairs, forcing him to slow his pace as she followed him out onto the street.

The blonde dog immediately crouched next to a lamp post, and she waited patiently as he cocked his leg, before giving his lead a tug and leading Barney round a familiar route. As they crossed the street to stroll past the usual stores and into the park across the street, a rotund woman with ruddy cheeks stopped them in their tracks to lean over and coo over the large blonde dog.

"Oh, he's just lovely!" She exclaimed, grinning as she rubbed Barney's ears and he relished the attention, "How old is he?" She glanced up at Quinn, who smiled politely.

"He's almost nine now. I've had him a while." She gazed fondly at her dog, who laid down to roll onto his back.

"Well he's gorgeous. Aren't you?" The woman gave his head another pat before excusing herself and hurrying off.

"Always the charmer, aren't you, Barn?" Quinn observed in a low voice, and the retriever glanced back at her as if to agree, wagging his tail enthusiastically.

They entered the park and Quinn glanced around before letting him off the lead, scanning the ground near-by for a large stick to throw for him. "I think we're out of luck today, Barney. Looks like you've already mauled them all."

Barney hung his head sadly with a small whimper, and she was instantly guilt-tripped, "Oh, don't get like that. We'll find you one." She took off wandering down the various paths in the park, finally finding a large stick and hurling it across the grassy common. Barney immediately shot off after it, appearing again a few moments later with a triumphant smile.

"Well done, good boy." She grinned, ruffling his ears before throwing the stick again. They repeated this drill over and over until Quinn checked the time on her phone. Grimacing, she demanded they turn back, leaving the stick behind them, much to Barney's dismay.

They returned to the apartment just before ten, bounding up the small flight of stairs and heading down the corridor that led only to Quinn's apartment. Barney sat patiently in front of the door as Quinn rifled through her pockets. Her frown became deeper and deeper ingrained in her face as she patted herself down, pulling out her phone and dog litter bags over and over until, with a heavy sigh, she finally accepted that her keys were most certainly not in her pockets, and most probably on the other side of her apartment door.

Shaking her head at her own foolishness, she dropped her forehead onto the varnished wood of the door as she pulled out her phone and dialled a familiar number. After listening to the dial tone for a few moments, the phone was answered in a flustered voice and she stood up straight as Rachel answered.

"Hey, what's up?" Rachel puffed.

"Hey, have you left home yet?" She inquired. There was a pause at the end of the phone.

"Um, yeah. I'm already on my way!" Rachel replied brightly, and Quinn let out a noise of exasperation. "What's up?"

"I took Barney for a walk so he wouldn't want to go out as soon as you arrived. But I left my keys inside so we're locked out." She groaned again, and Rachel couldn't resist laughing. Quinn rolled her eyes with a reluctant smirk, moving the phone away from her ear as the girl's loud laughter rang out through the phone.

"I'm sorry." The brunette recovered, "I'm just enjoying the irony of a locksmith forgetting her keys."

"Haa haa. I get it." Quinn deadpanned, "Anyway, I guess I'll just have to call the super." She sighed, and Rachel gave a small cough.

"Okay, so actually I lied, I haven't left home at all." She admitted quietly, and Quinn chuckled with relief, "I'll bring your key, I should be there by ten fifteen. Sorry."

"No, it's absolutely fine. Don't worry about it, for once your lateness is paying off!" The blonde chuckled and Rachel made a noise of protest.

"Alright, no need to rub it in. I'll be there soon. Byeeeee." Quinn grinned as Rachel hung up, before turning back to Barney, who was still sitting in front of the door, staring at her patiently.

"Sorry, dude." Quinn shrugged, "I forgot the key. Rachel's coming to save us."

Barney sighed heavily as he picked up his paws, lying flat in front of the door and resting his chin on his paws. Quinn nodded disappointedly before taking up a seat beside him, leaning back and resting her head on her apartment door.

Rachel hurried up the stairs at half past ten, issuing apologies and rambling about her subway journey, "…anyway," She finished, "I have your key here. Sorry I'm so late!"

"It's fine." Quinn was laid along the corridor, her head resting on Barney's side, "I have an awesome pillow." She smiled sweetly and Rachel chuckled as she slid her spare key into the lock. Moments later, Quinn and Barney were on their feet and the door was open.

"Oh! Here's your key." Rachel announced proudly as she picked up the bunch of keys from the sideboard next to the door.

"Yeah…I keep them next to the door so I don't forget them." Quinn admitted disappointedly, and Rachel stared at her for a second.

"Nice plan." The brunette nodded.

"Effective." She agreed sarcastically.

"So anyway, how are you?" Rachel greeted properly, pulling her jacket off and hanging it on a peg, "And how are you, Mr Baxter?" She knelt down in front of Barney, who lifted his head to greet her, panting excitedly. "Woah there, easy on the breathing Mr B." Rachel winced, pulling back and standing to join the blonde in the kitchen.

"Yeah I'm okay. Coffee?" She held up a cup and the brunette nodded, "How are you?"

"Not bad. Pretty good, actually. You?"

"Ugh. I'd be fine if Santana hadn't appeared in my kitchen at 8am this morning looking for breakfast." She chuckled, rolling her eyes.

"What?" Rachel frowned, "How did she get in?"

"She has a spare key like you do. For emergencies." Quinn rolled her eyes, "Sadly she doesn't have the comprehension of the word 'emergency' like you do."

"Wow." Rachel looked around the room thoughtfully, "How funny is it that this morning Santana broke into your apartment, and then like…an hour later, you locked yourself out?" She shook her head incredulously, and Quinn spun on her heel to stare at her evenly.

"Hilarious." She replied, without a trace of humour.

"Sorry." Rachel chuckled. "So what have you been working on recently?" She accepted a cup of coffee from the blonde before strolling across to the desk in the corner.

"Just the usual." Quinn shrugged, "It's a custom-build for some rich guy commissioning a safety deposit box."

"Like for in a bank?" Rachel's nose wrinkled in confusion.

"No, like he's probably cut a hole in his wall at home, probably somewhere creative like behind a painting," She rolled her eyes, "This guy I know called Puck goes and measures where the actual safe will go. He sends me the details and all I have to do is build the lock, mail it to the address, and Puck will fit it all and test it."

"Cool." Rachel nodded, impressed, "It looks complicated."

"It isn't when you know what all the parts are." She shrugged.

"Really?" The brunette raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"Okay, so maybe it's still a little bit complex. But otherwise it wouldn't work, and I would make no money. And I'd be homeless." She paused thoughtfully, "Or living with your dads."

"Well I'm sure they'd love to have you. But could you stand all the animals?" Her eyes widened as her mouth twisted in a grimace and Quinn shook her head.

"No way. One awkward, troublesome dog is enough for me." She chuckled, "Besides, Freja would scratch my eyes right out."

"Oh God, yeah. That cat is so mean, I swear there's something wrong with her." Rachel shuddered as she pictured the malicious Siamese that her father loved so much.

Quinn nodded vehemently, rolling her eyes, "So anyway, what do you want to do today?" She wandered through to the living room where Barney was sprawled across the rug, Rachel following closely behind.

The brunette shrugged, taking a place on the sofa and propping her ankles up on the coffee table, "I don't know. The weather isn't that great, and I don't feel like taking our chances with the rain."

"Good point. What time are we going to your dads?" The blonde frowned, and Rachel reached for the remote control.

"Umm…" She hummed, her attention wandering as she flicked through channels, "I think they said 5:30. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, I'll have to feed Barney before we go, though." She replied absent-mindedly, scanning the options on the screen as she curled her legs under her.

"Well they'll be feeding all the others so they won't mind if we're a little late. We'll be eating a little later anyway, as always." She shrugged, pausing on a page to deliberate between programmes.

"Yeah, as long as it's not too late. I want to finish all that tomorrow," She gestured to the work bench in the corner, "So I need an early night."

"Okay, I promise we won't stay late." Rachel smiled, "America's Next Top Model or My Super Sweet Sixteen?"

"Um…" Quinn twisted her mouth as she mulled it over, "I'm assuming we're having a TV day then?" She chuckled, "America's Next Top Model. It's all of the new series re-capped all day, we can have a marathon."

"Awesome." Rachel giggled, "You wanna go for breakfast at lunchtime?" She raised her eyebrows and Quinn turned her head slowly to meet the brunette's gaze.

"You are a genius." She nodded, "Okay so if we go to Rapps, on the corner, then we can watch the first episode, go for lunch and come back to watch the rest on the plus one channel. Then we won't even miss any."

"Yes!" Rachel slapped the blonde's thigh excitedly, "Oh, good thinking!" She grinned, oblivious to Quinn rubbing her leg, grimacing in pain.

-oOo-

"Okay, are we good to go? Apart from him." Quinn gestured to Barney, who was munching happily in his food bowl, before raising her eyebrows at Rachel, who nodded confidently.

"Yeah, I've already picked up your key so you can't forget it." The brunette smiled kindly, and Quinn ducked her head bashfully.

"Thank you." She chuckled, "Okay, I'm not going to dinner in sweatpants, so I'll just run up and change."

She sprinted off up the stairs, and Rachel watched her go with a small frown.

"How do you get up those stairs so fast without going dizzy? Or without falling back down?" She called, and heard Quinn's light laughter from the balcony above her.

"I have to spot." Quinn joked, "Aren't you the dancer here?"

The brunette rolled her eyes, perching on the back of the sofa as she gazed around at the duplex apartment, "I love your apartment. It's so cool and artsy, but still very you."

Quinn's body appeared over the low wall that ran the length of the balcony. "What do you mean, 'It's so cool, but still very you.'" She held up air quotes as she spoke, narrowing her eyes, "Are you saying I'm not cool?"

Rachel rolled her eyes as Quinn disappeared for a moment, reappearing with a jacket in her hand to jog down the iron staircase. "My lips are sealed." Rachel smiled sweetly, "I may be bendy, but I don't wish to put my foot in my mouth any more than I already have."

She gestured to allow Quinn past, and the blonde glared playfully at Rachel as she craned up to retrieve Barney's lead once again. She clipped it swiftly onto his collar before leading the trio out of her apartment.

"So what's your dad making tonight?" The blonde asked once they had started the short walk to Rachel's fathers' house.

"I think he said mushroom and potato curry?" Rachel's face twisted with uncertainty, "I think."

"Awh man." Quinn sighed, "No falafel burgers?"

"I don't think so." The brunette shrugged, "Sorry. I'll make them for you this week."

Quinn giggled happily to herself, "Yey!" She clapped her hands excitably, pausing as Barney stopped to cock his leg against a low wall. "So, is there anything I have to avoid saying tonight?" She raised her eyebrows at Rachel, who paused for a moment.

"I don't think so. I'd prefer it if you didn't tell them about that date I went on last week, though. But nothing serious." She shook her head. Occasionally Rachel made Quinn swear to withhold certain details from her fathers. Never anything serious, a bad audition here, an embarrassing date there.

Hiram and Leroy had a tendency to worry too much, and Rachel had a tendency to tell little white lies to curb the over-bearing nervousness. It wasn't that they suffocated her – she didn't have any deep-rooted issues because of it or anything. And she didn't like to be dishonest, she just found that whenever she told them about auditions she didn't get, guys who stood her up or an occasional lack of funds, they smothered her with questions that made her head hurt. She knew it was only because they cared so much, but sometimes it was nicer to live an easy life.

"Which date?" Quinn frowned, "With that Jerry guy?"

"Yeah."

"Another one stood you up?" The blonde guessed, but Rachel shook her head.

"No, this one did show up…"She paused with a small sigh, "But maybe it would have been better if he hadn't." She rolled her eyes as Quinn quirked her eyebrows questioningly, urging her on. "He spent the whole night talking about himself, he literally did not ask me one question. I mean, I know I can be a little self-obsessed, but he just kept talking about his job and telling the same stories over and over, he didn't even have an interesting job!" She shook her head exasperatedly and the blonde's mouth twisted sympathetically. "I mean, I try to be completely non-judgemental, as I would wish to be treated by others, but sometimes men are just so insufferable! At least, the ones that I seem to come into contact with are."

"Well that sucks. You deserve better dates than that. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Rachel shrugged, "There's always next time."

"I don't understand how you keep going on so many dates when they all go so horribly wrong." The blonde grimaced.

"Well, if I give up on finding my soulmate then I don't have any chance of finding them, do I?" Rachel replied simply.

"I suppose." Quinn frowned quizzically, "But what is it that people say about 'once you stop looking for someone, they find you' or something?" She shrugged, and Rachel raised an eyebrow self-consciously.

"I feel I would rather take a pro-active approach to the situation." They fell silent for a moment, until Rachel took a breath, "So what about you? Still no love interest?"

The blonde rolled her eyes, "Actually, since I saw you three days ago I've embarked on an illicit affair with the super, had a one night stand with the busker on the corner of my street and attempted to woo your fathers' doorman." She replied sarcastically, and Rachel sighed. "Of course not, don't be ridiculous, Rach."

"You need to get out there!" Rachel nagged, "I've told you. You are such a catch; you're smart, funny, creative, cute. There is no need for you to be alone."

"I'm not alone!" She defended, "I have my little man, here, don't I?"

The other girl rolled her eyes, "As much as I love Barney – and I do – I just don't think he's a substitute for a human companion." She shrugged as they turned onto the Berry men's street.

"But I don't want a human companion. I'm happy how I am. I'm happy alone." She shrugged, "I'll find someone when I want someone. If ever."

Rachel shook her head, "I don't believe you. If you don't want to find someone, why are you so gooey over romantic comedies?" She jabbed a finger at the blonde, who scoffed.

"I just like the storylines. It's sweet. Boy meets girl, et cetera."

"Mmm-hmm." Rachel nodded, looking doubtful, "Whatever, I've seen the way you look when you watch the big reunion scenes at the end of films. I've seen you cry over happy endings in books. I know that you always play love songs when you're playing your guitar. I know you better than you think I do."

Quinn pushed open the door to Rachel's fathers' apartment building, the small brunette following after her.

"So why are you so afraid of dating?" Rachel challenged, pressing the button for the elevator as Quinn rolled her eyes.

"I'm not afraid of dating!" Quinn scowled, "I just don't want to."

"So you don't ever feel alone? You never want to feel somebody's arms around you? You never want a shoulder to cry on? Someone to always have your back? To sit with you when you wake up from a nightmare?" Rachel raised an eyebrow as the elevator sped up the levels.

"Not really. If I need a shoulder to cry on I have you. Santana always has my back. Barney is always there if I have a nightmare, I just have to carry him up the stairs." She shrugged as the doors slid open, "And I'm fine with it. I'm perfectly fine."

Rachel stepped out into the hall, quickly turning on her heel to face Quinn, "Okay. So you're fine. Good for you. But I notice you didn't say you're happy with it? Just a thought." She smiled sweetly, turning to lead the way to her fathers' apartment and wrapping sharply on the door.

Moments later it swung open and Rachel dived into the arms of her father with a loud squeal. Leroy stood with a wide grin, releasing Rachel to pull Quinn into a crushing hug. He ushered the girls into the apartment, where a dinner table was already set up.

"Hey girls! Come on through, make yourselves at home!" He welcomed them in and Quinn carefully stepped across the hall, struggling to avoid the array of different animals crowding to join them in the hallway.

Along with Barney, she picked out Freja and Coco, the two Siamese cats, along with Toby the Staffordshire Bull Terrier, Trixie the Daschund, Oscar the Cocker Spaniel and a tiny tabby cat named Spooky. The various animals were usually accidentally sourced. Spooky was a stray they had found in the alley behind their apartment. They began leaving food for her and then one day they brought her back into the apartment and she had never left since. They agreed to take Toby home when a friend was going to take him to a shelter where he would be put down. Trixie didn't even belong to them, she was Rachel's mom's dog but they often looked after her for Shelby. Rachel didn't have that much contact with her mom, but Leroy and Hiram were on good terms with her and the girls saw her in passing sometimes.

"Hi, Mr Berry!" Quinn shouted over the din as the various animals ran around her feet.

Hiram appeared from the kitchen, shushing the various animals and crouching down to pick up one of the two Siamese cats, "Hey, Quinnie!" He grinned, "How are ya?"

"I'm great, thank you."

"Daddy," Rachel interrupted, "Dad, don't you think Quinn should be dating?"

"Rachel!" Quinn stared at her incredulously. Her heart sank as she realised that they were going to have to talk about it. She knew she should have stayed at home when there were no falafel burgers.

"Um…" Leroy frowned, "I'm not sure. I mean, do you want to be dating, Quinn?"

"Of course she should be!" Hiram agreed enthusiastically and she grimaced, "You need to get out there, Quinnie! Even if you think you don't, you cannot understand the joy of having somebody until you do. It's like suddenly your world changes." He gazed fondly at Leroy as he spoke, scratching the cat's ears as he continued, "It's like you're entire life, you've only really been half a person, and then you meet the one who just…makes you whole." He took a deep breath, sighing contentedly, "Just like me and Freja." He added, and Leroy groaned, rolling his eyes.

"Should have seen that one coming!" He snorted as Hiram chuckled. Rachel shook her head and Quinn rolled my eyes, but he waved an arm to gain their attention once more.

"No, of course I'm joking!" He extended an arm to wrap around Leroy's shoulders, kissing him gently on the cheek, "You know you're my world." He grinned at the other man, who shook his head fondly.

Quinn watched them, doe-eyed as they smiled, playfully arguing over who loved who more. Rachel raised an eyebrow as she gazed from her fathers to the expression on her best friend's face, and she shifted her weight to nudge Quinn with her elbow. "See? Tell me you don't want that?" She raised her eyebrows expectantly, and the blonde glanced down at Barney before replying.

The retriever was rolling around with Leroy's cocker spaniel, Oscar, whilst Coco, the other Siamese, hissed near-by. Quinn sighed heavily, "I suppose it would be nice." She shrugged, "But can't I just wait for love to find me in its own sweet time?"

"Of course you can!" Leroy waved his hand dismissively, and she gestured to him to prove her point "You're young, there's no rush."

Hiram scoffed, turning and leading the way into the kitchen, "No, you can't just sit back and watch life pass you by, Quinnie!"

She sighed as she followed the line of Berrys into the kitchen, rolling her eyes behind Rachel's back as she wondered, begrudgingly, why this was the chosen topic of conversation.

"I'm not letting life pass me by!" She defended, but Rachel turned on her heel to raise a sceptical eyebrow at the blonde as Hiram returned to the cooking and Leroy began pouring drinks.

"Quinn, you barely leave your apartment most days." She pointed out, her tone much less venomous than her words.

"Because that's where I work!" Quinn argued, "It's not like I never leave my apartment! I make plans!" Leroy handed out glasses of wine and Quinn immediately took a large swig from hers, taking a seat at the breakfast bar beside Rachel.

"Yeah, with me or Santana." The brunette countered, "We don't count; we're your best friends."

Quinn scowled, disgruntled as Rachel echoed Santana's words. "Why is everyone so against me spending time with my friends instead of being obsessed with romance?"

"I'm not, for the record." Leroy interjected, and she chuckled, "It's these two steam-rollers." He sent Quinn a knowing look and gave her a quick wink.

"I'm not against you spending time with your friends." Rachel frowned, "I'm just saying maybe you'd enjoy dating if you actually put yourself out there. I've known you since college and I have never known you to have a boyfriend." Quinn shifted uncomfortably. "I know that you love love, so why not open yourself up to it?" Hiram nodded his agreement, and the blonde sighed heavily. Barney had taken up a space at her feet, curled up on the floor by her chair. She gazed down at him, half-wishing they were laid on the sofa with a monstrous bowl of popcorn and a dog treat instead of being bullied in Hiram and Leroy's kitchen.

She turned away from her faithful companion, gazing from Rachel's earnest face to Hiram's persuasive grin and Leroy's small, resigned smile. She sighed again before taking a deep breath, "Fine." She admitted reluctantly, and Rachel whooped, fist-pumping in the air as Hiram cheered. Leroy chuckled and Quinn rolled her eyes dramatically, "Fine, I'll try dating. But I'm not making any promises and I'm not even looking for anyone in particular. This isn't a mission to set me up, I'm just saying that I'll try it."

"Yes!" Rachel grinned excitedly, "I have the perfect guy for you."