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It had been one of the happiest weeks thus far in Rachel's young life when she asked a question that she was not entirely sure that she regretted or not. It had been a beautiful spring afternoon, the flowers in her fathers' garden are in full bloom, scenting the air with a rich, heady aroma that had the potential to make her dizzy. Or, in truth, what may had been making her dizzy was the real and glorious fact that Quinn Fabray had just kissed her, after confessing her impassioned love for Rachel all this time. Through all the years of bullying, of antagonizing, and overall negative attitude, Quinn had confessed that it was a ruse, a way of avoiding her true and deep feelings for Rachel…
Quinn interrupts her mid-narration. “What in the world are you talking about? Tell the story properly.”
Rachel scowls at Quinn. “You have no appreciation for the drama of it.”
“Because it wasn't dramatic at all,” Quinn says in exasperation. She grabs Rachel's hand and their connected limbs swing to and fro, while the two remain heavily conscious of the fact that their friend group—all the members of glee club—watches them with unabashed interest. “It was more a type of… things falling into place—into something that felt right.”
“Aww,” Rachel coos, reaching out to cup the side of Quinn's neck. They looked into each other's eyes, love and affection beaming into each other.
“For the love of god, can you just tell the story?” Mercedes demands. “I love you both, but we don't have the rest of the school year.”
“Why is everyone so impatient? A beautiful love story such as this needs the time and space to be developed,” says Rachel.
“In case you've forgotten,” Sam says in a voice replete with exhaustion, “we have been technically watching this develop for the last year.”
“Longer, if you were unlucky,” Tina mutters.
“Can you guys stop talking? I really want to hear this story,” Finn complains.
“I'm surprised you do, Finnocence. I'm surprised you're not whining and kicking down chairs out of sheer rage that Quinn took your girl from you,” says Santana.
Finn shrugs. “Who knows, I might still have time.”
Rachel performs a dramatic gasp, complete with a clutching of the heart. “Finn! What will your girlfriend say?”
“I’m joking!"“
Incensed now, Quinn rubs her forehead and peers with one eye over to Rachel. “See what I mean?”
“A little bit,” Rachel says with a smile. She strokes Quinn's nape and kisses the shell of her ear. “But we're here now and we have to deal with it.” To their friends, she asks, “where was I before my dear Quinn interrupted me?”
“Wait, go back a little. I want to know how you two ended up first!” Brittany shouts from the last row of the choir room risers.
“I'll tell this part,” Quinn says.
For Quinn a lot of life felt like a series of building up to one moment into the next but it was not until she blurted out to Rachel, while they were hanging out in the Berrys' dining room, that she was in love with her did she realize that moments were all there was. They had been playing gin rummy just to have something to do with their hands while they talked—unendingly, unceasingly, they talked. With no one to interrupt, with nothing to hide, because their friendship had been the flakes in an up-to-that-point turbulent snow globe that had now settled, depicting a calm, wintry scene. As they spent time together, Quinn would be the first one to say: Rachel Berry wasn't all that bad. She was so not so bad that Quinn fell in love with her.
“Rach, I think I'm in love with you.”
It was like Quinn blacked out when she said the words out loud that when she came to, the look in Rachel's eyes had made her nervous. She was simply staring when she asked, “is this some kind of joke?”
“No, no! I mean it, seriously!” Quinn insisted.
“Good,” Rachel said primly. “Because I know I'm in love with you, Quinn.”
They stared at each other, incredulity mixing with relief. The tension in the moment was so thick, because what were they supposed to do then? What was one supposed to do when the stars aligned, the threads of fate stitch together in a beautiful piece, and the miracle of love happened simultaneously, independently? They were sitting across from each other, cards in their hands. Were they supposed to stand up, and then what? Lean across the length of the table for a kiss?
Rachel bit her lip and made apparent what currently ran through her mind. She placed her final card on top of a pile and announced, “rummy.”
Quinn groaned and tossed the remainder of her cards. “Damn. Want to play again?”
“No. Let's go upstairs.”
“Oooooooooh,” everyone hoots in anticipation.
“I thought we agreed—nothing graphic?” Blaine asks.
“I wasn't going to describe anything. Just that we kissed,” Quinn tells him, her ears turning into a bright red curve.
“But for the record, we've had sex,” Rachel quips.
“Wow, already?” Finn says in bewilderment.
“A-anyway, to pick up from where Rachel left off…”
In a word, they had been official for a week. In those seven days, Rachel had felt the highest peaks and the lowest dips in emotions—whenever she was with Quinn, it was as if the joy brimming within her tiny body will cause her to swell and explode. The moment they were apart, grief settled in her bones like the weight of the world bore upon her shoulders. It was rough, to be sure, but it was also worthwhile.
They were in the Berrys' dining room table, studying, because if they had been in Rachel's bedroom, both of them knew no amount of studying would transpire—and they did need to study for midterms.
Rachel looked up at Quinn while she read through Rachel's AP History notes, and asks, “when are we going to tell our friends we're together?”
Quinn did not even look at her to answer, “not any time soon.”
The silence that followed alarmed Quinn that she glanced up, only to receive an eyeful of a teary-eyed Rachel, with a quivering lip formed into a pout.
“Quinn, are you ashamed of me?”
“No!” The blonde exclaimed. “It's not that. I like keeping us to ourselves. The privacy is nice. Don't you think so?”
Rachel crossed her arms over her chest and huffed. “So it's not because your popularity is going to tank the moment the world finds out we're together?”
“What popularity? In case you haven't noticed, I haven't been popular for a hot minute. Two years to be exact. No, Rach, it's not about anything that shallow—but it is selfish. I want you to myself,” Quinn said, her voice softening around the edges, transforming into the warm, hypnotic sound that made Rachel shiver. She reached out to hold Rachel's hand, her thumb stroking the ridges of her knuckles.
“Wouldn’t it be more of a claim to keep me to myself if everyone knows I’m taken by you?”
Quinn chewed her bottom lip. “I just think it's a little premature.”
“So you don't think we'd last, is that it?” Rachel snatches her hand away from Quinn as she demanded, her voice turning shrill.
“What? No, no!”
“Oh my god, Quinn, you're a trainwreck,” Sam says, shaking his head.
“I just meant,” Quinn said as she followed a hotly-pacing Rachel to the living room, “that the moment anyone finds out about us, everyone is going to have a field day. They're going to mock our choices, they're going to force their opinions down our throats. I'm not ashamed of you, but they're going to judge us, and they're not going to be shy in letting us know what they think of our being together.”
“You seem to think poorly of our friends,” Rachel observed, still avoiding Quinn's gaze.
“It's true, I do,” Quinn sank on the couch, rubbing her temples while Rachel moved to sit beside her. “It's unfair to them, but I'm not risking their bullshit. You know what they're like! I'm not saying that I want to keep us a secret or hide the way I feel about you—I just don't want to announce it.”
“If they figure it out on their own, you're not going to deny it, right?” Rachel asked.
Quinn shook her head aggressively. “No. I won't do that to you.”
“Okay, good.”
“This week was good, right? We don't have to do anything that different. Everyone already knows how much we hang out. Just not the part where we kiss a little.”
Rachel grinned and leaned her cheek against Quinn's arm. “Or a lot, depending.”
Quinn giggled and kissed the top of Rachel's head. “So, are we okay? You're not mad at me?”
“Of course not. Thank you for explaining things to me.”
Rachel leaned against Quinn's shoulder and they sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Quinn, concerned about how things might upend the moment a single person found out about her relationship with Rachel, because that was how things worked—the moment she felt the dredges of happiness, the universe came knocking on her door to seek balance. In turn, Rachel thought about what might their friends think if they do figure out what was going on between her and Quinn. She had a nicer view of their friends as a whole—she believed that they would be supportive in their own wonky ways. In truth, she had no idea what worried Quinn.
She would respect Quinn's wishes to keep their romance under wraps. For now.
“Wow, I'm impressed,” Tina tells Rachel. “You actually didn't sing about you and Quinn to announce your relationship.”
“Oh, but I did,” Rachel says with a grin. “I did a couple of songs that were subtle. And not looking at Quinn when I sang them definitely helped keep my attraction to her hidden.”
“Except that time you straight up draped yourself over Quinn's lap,” Mike pipes up. To Sam, he asks, “remember that?”
“Oh, dude, yeah. That was funny as heck—Quinn looked so much like a cooked lobster when that happened!”
Quinn rolls her eyes at the boys. “I'd like to see you both try not to blush if Rachel sits on your laps.”
“Uh—I think that's a trap. I won't be able to blush because you'd separate my head from the rest of my body, effectively draining me of all blood,” Sam says.
The days that followed were uneventful, but Quinn refused to let her guard down. She knew how fate worked—the moment she became complacent would be the moment a cascade would happen. Things like, someone all of a sudden realizing what an attractive person Rachel was, because in the instance that others stop being jealous of her, they would be able to get over themselves and see her appeal. She was the devoted kind, passionate, and it was a rare instance that Quinn would doubt Rachel's feelings for her. In short, she was blatant and upfront with her affections to Quinn. Any doubt Quinn had was inevitably a her problem and she was working on it.
No one continued to bat an eyelash over the fact that Quinn and Rachel came and left school together. No one made comments how they seemed to be joined at the hip, sitting beside each other during classes they shared, and even eating lunch with just the two of them three times a week. It was the case now, with the two of them hidden backstage at the auditorium. They sat beside each other on a prop couch. Quinn had an arm out resting against the back of the seat, with Rachel leaning against her chest as she ate her sandwich.
“Someone in my Physics class asked me out today,” Rachel said as she wiped the corners of her mouth free of crumbs. She sat up and pressed against the opposite arm of the couch to face Quinn, an expectant look on her face.
“And? What did you say?”
Rachel raised her brow. “What did you think I said?”
“I'm not sure,” Quinn admitted—and it was the wrong thing to say. Rachel shot up and with a frown and her hands on her hips, stood indignant before Quinn.
“You know, if we made our relationship public, you would have no doubts whatsoever,” Rachel said, “but since you insist on playing ten-dimensional mind games with goodness knows who, I suppose we both have no choice.”
Just as quickly as she felt the fury and indignation, Rachel turned sweet and tender. She sidled up next to Quinn. It was less a matter of mixing signals but rather, Rachel felt both modes of emotion and was not afraid to express it. She dragged her fingers through Quinn's cropped hair and kissed her cheek. “I'm sorry, I don't mean that I want to announce us. I do, don't get me wrong, but you're right. Having you to myself is nice, but you have to admit, we run the risk of what happened earlier. Granted, I think I assumed I would be in your position—that you would be the one boys and girls would be clamouring to ask out on a date.”
“You're cute, but why wouldn't anyone want to ask you out? Besides, people are too scared to ask me.”
“Because you're out of their league,” Rachel said with a smug grin. She tilted her head towards Quinn, her nose grazing the fine line of her jaw. “Not me though.”
“Baby, if my love is a league you're the only one playing. No contest.”
Giggling, Rachel climbed on top of Quinn's lap and wrapped her arms around her neck. They kissed, soft but with the urgency of unleashed restraint. Quinn moaned into Rachel's mouth. The insistent press of Rachel's lips, her entire body pinned against her own, made her feel like she was melting into a lust-filled creature. She held Rachel closer to her, the pliable flesh of her thighs was what Quinn imagined the epitome of desire to be.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Kurt says, his fingers wedged inside his ear canals. “Please, move on from this scene already.”
“Boo,” jeer the boys and—somewhat of a surprise—Santana and Brittany. When everyone turns to them, Santana cocks her head back.
“Women are allowed to be horny,” she says, teeth bared. “Got a problem with that?”
A tense standoff bubbles up between the prudish and the libertine—though really, it was just between Kurt and Santana. They glare at each other for a long time that Rachel became irritated at the two of them for stealing the spotlight from herself.
“I have a question,” Mercedes chimes in. “Do your parents know?”
Rachel glances at Quinn. “Mine do, but we're still working on how to tell Quinn's mom.”
“And it's not like I'm raring to tell my mom about us either,” Quinn mutters. “I'd like to not be houseless again, thanks.”
“And I'm telling you, I don't think she'd kick you out. And my dads think so too.” To their friends, Rachel says, ”our parents have met, you see. But it's okay, Quinn. I don't want you coming out to your mom before you're ready.“
“But you want her so badly to come out to us, didn't you?” Santana asks.
“No,” Quinn answers for Rachel while looking in her direction. “She didn't want it badly. She only wanted to know why. After the initial conversation, she didn't keep pushing. Don't misunderstand the situation.”
Santana holds up her palms in a gesture of washing her hands of the statement. “Alright, Q. Geez.”
“So then,” Tina raises her hand to speak and both Rachel and Quinn turn to her, bemused. “What changed your minds? Why decide to tell us now?”
Frankly, it seemed a miracle that no one had them figured out yet, Rachel thought. Though to be fair, she had yet to act as blatant as she felt in her affections. No kissing in the hallway, no longing looks during class, and certainly no performance of overly-blatant love songs during glee club. The only reason Rachel had not exploded yet from pent-up feeling was because every night after school, she was allowed to unleash the beast of her body by showering Quinn with physical and verbal affection which the blonde happily reciprocated.
It was nice to be with someone where Rachel did not have the time nor the space to doubt her standing within the relationship. Sure, no one knew, but it was not like Quinn was furtive about expressing their closeness—only shy. Quinn always, always looked at her, and it was the weight of her gaze that reassured Rachel more than any interlocked hand-holding or a TV drama kiss by her locker. And when finally alone with each other, everything was pure bliss.
Quinn was sweet, affectionate, tender. When alone, with the part of her brain that invoked judgment was silenced, she was hilarious. And flirted without a hint self-consciousness or self-filtering; the shyness always came out after the words had been uttered, however.
It may come as a shock to know that Rachel would have been content to keep things the way they were. To have almost no one know about them was a safety in its own right—to grow comfortable in her feelings for Quinn without fear of spectators was truly helpful. But, as with most things, it had to come to an abrupt end. The conflict appeared externally, as it was wont to do, when things were going far too well. Rachel would complain, but she was nothing but versed in the realm of Fate.
One day, while waiting for glee club to start, Artie wheeled himself in front of the present population in the choir room, which consisted of half the club's members. Rachel and Quinn sat at the front so they were the first to notice his movement. Previously speaking to Quinn in a low voice, Rachel stopped talking and glanced at Artie who stared at her.
“Can I help you, Artie?” She asked politely.
“I was making a mental note of everyone and who they're dating when I realized that you and Quinn are the only ones who are single in the club. Even Finn is dating someone, albeit someone who is not a member.”
“Puck's single,” Quinn pointed out.
“Yeah, but it's Puck. He's doing the world a favour by staying single because it means he's not cheating on anyone,” Artie said. “So, I was thinking… a guy in the tech club is asking about you, Rachel. Can I say you're single and ready to mingle?”
“No, you may not say that!” Rachel said, her voice almost at a shout. “No offense—I'm sure your friend is a decent young man—”
“I wouldn't be too sure, Rach,” Brittany said from the top of the risers while she puffed air on her filed nails. “The tech guys are all sorts of pervy. They like to make you squeeze stuff between your toes while they watch.”
“The moment you find out what they're into, you're going to think Finn is a blushing virgin boy—which he kind of is,” Santana sneered, eyeing the tall boy with a smirk.
“The point is, I don't care to date anyone else at the moment,” Rachel said.
“But you're single. What's the harm?”
Quinn rolled her eyes and kept the set of her jaw as she glared at Artie. “Is she not allowed to be single? Does everyone have to be paired off in your silly little world?”
Artie wheeled himself an inch away from Quinn's threatening aura. “I mean, sure she can be single, but does she want to stay that way?”
Rachel chewed her bottom lip. One statement could end this conversation but she did not want to weaponize her relationship with Quinn—to silence a boy, no less. No, she would not say anything and opted to let Quinn take a lead on this one. As their eyes met, Rachel could only hope that Quinn could read the meaning in her eyes: no one in this current lifetime was going to take her away from her.
“I would very much rather you stop worrying about the state of my dating life. I am perfectly happy with its current form,” she told Artie.
“Are you serious? No one can be single and be truly happy,” he said, sneering.
Artie flinches at the dirty stares he receives. “What? Don't give me that look—it's my opinion.”
“Sure, and a wrong one at that,” Mercedes scoffs.
“But I'm right, aren't I? Rachel is content with her dating life because she isn't single! She was just hiding the fact that she's with Quinn.”
“Did I give you the impression that was sad and lonely?” Rachel asks him.
“Not really,” he admits. “But you're also a very good actress.”
“Don't flip the blame on Rachel. The fact of the matter is you're a nosy, little—”
Rachel touches Quinn's arm and she stops mid-sentence, tensed shoulders and hackles falling slack. The room, enshrouded with tension, watches the standoff between Quinn and Artie. Though it seems to have fizzled away, Quinn maintains her anger with a look trained on him.
“Look, it's whatever,” Artie says, holding up his hands in concession. “That was yesterday and I can imagine you two are a happy couple. Many happy returns. But you can't make me out to be the villain because you're a coward and won't tell the world that you two are together.”
Rachel caresses Quinn's tense jaw. “Quinn, be careful. Your dentist is going to get annoyed with you again.”
It snaps the tension burbling inside Quinn and she lets out a bark of a laugh. “Thanks for reminding me.”
But she cannot allow Artie to have the last word. She looks upon the faces aimed at herself and Rachel. A mixture of concern, amusement, and curiosity, Quinn cannot help the desire to defend herself, her choices, and her relationship with Rachel. She can already see—and maybe this is an assumption—that no one will understand. Or, no one is willing to try, save for Rachel who only has eyes for her, encouragement in her eyes.
“The moment everyone knew Finn and I started dating, everyone made the assumption that I'm with him for the popularity, or that he's with me because I was the head cheerleader and he's the quarterback and that's the way the tropes fell. I didn't want to tell anyone about my relationship with Rachel because I don't want anyone to expect anything about us so that we could be free to just be ourselves. I could tell that a lot of you were surprised that I was the one who confessed her love first. And that's a fair thing to expect, knowing the things you all know about myself as an individual, and Rachel as an individual.
“But that was my point,” Quinn continued, “I felt bogged down by my presumed character—the way I was perceived by most—that it kept me from being myself.”
“Are you sure it's not because you're a colossal lesbian?” Santana retorts.
“That's part of it, yeah.” Quinn admits. “If it still sounds confusing or weird to any of you, keep that to yourself. I'm not going to explain anything further.”
“But you can ask me. Now that everyone knows, I can now talk about us freely,” Rachel says with a wide grin.
Tina raises her hand. “Did you feel you were being kept from being your true self? Because it sounded like this was a purely Quinn idea to hide your relationship.”
“We didn't hide. Simply didn't announce things. But I can see why it might seem that way. But as I mentioned before, Quinn's reasons made sense to me. I didn't feel constrained, nor did I had room for doubt. Quinn reassured me on many fronts,” Rachel smiles at her girlfriend.
“Well, congrats, guys. Thanks for telling us,” Blaine says, clapping his hands. The rest followed in his applause and it makes Quinn laugh and shake her head. “Though I wish it had been through better, more controlled circumstances,” he says, casting Artie a side-eye.
In Quinn's car, the blonde burrows against the crook of Rachel's neck and expels an exhausted sigh. Rachel cooed and swept her hair off her face and kissed the bridge of her nose. “My poor baby. At least that's over and done with. Next comes your mom.”
“Oh god,” Quinn groans.
“I'm teasing. Not until you're ready, of course.”
“Why did that feel like a press conference though? I think I have a headache coming.”
“Aw, our first press conference!” Rachel grins, handing Quinn a bottle of water from which she drinks. “Stick around with me and it will not be your last.”
The cold press of Quinn's mouth against Rachel's neck makes her shiver. Quinn murmurs, “I can't wait.”