Okay, so, this website and I finally got around to reconciling! Whoo. I've been on LJ this whole time, but this is my favorite fic from my "library" if you will. One that is not excessively long, at least. So here you go. Transference.

Everything in Rachel Berry's world shifted when Quinn Fabray kissed her. Mostly because Rachel was knocked sideways by the force of the kiss, but also because it changed everything she knew.

It was a soft kiss, maybe a little too soft to be coming from such a forceful, brash girl like Quinn. It was a little too soft to be occurring at New Directions' second annual Regionals song nomination party, after it had been moved to Puck's and alcohol had become involved. It was a little too everything because there was nothing else Rachel could focus on as Quinn kept kissing her, sliding her backwards until Rachel met the wall.

Rachel kissed the blonde back, because it was natural, because she was too stunned, because she couldn't think straight, but she did. She kept kissing her, and they kept kissing as Quinn was backpedaled into Puck's bedroom, and Rachel didn't know what was happening, but that she wanted it, and it appeared Quinn wanted it too.

She didn't know she wanted this, she'd never thought about wanting this, not with Quinn, not with any other girl, but now that Quinn was whimpering in the back of her throat and the taller girl's tongue was tangling with Rachel's, there was nothing in the world Rachel felt she wanted more.

Quinn hits the closed door with a thump and a moan, as Rachel's hands drift all over and Rachel can't feel anything, can't see, can't do anything but taste the inviting pale skin under her mouth, the taste of Quinn's neck as it arches up further into Rachel's open-mouthed kisses.

And Quinn is whispering, whimpering out words that send vibrations into Rachel's mouth as the smaller girl kisses at the hollow of Quinn's throat.

"Rachel, Rachel, I've wanted this for so long, I love you, please," is what's coming out and Rachel herself relinquishes her loose hold on the skin at the base of Quinn's neck and brings her lips back to Quinn's waiting, reddened ones and earns a payback bite at her lower lip.

And Quinn pushes, lightly, too softly again, pushes Rachel backwards until the backs of her knees touch the bed and she bends, falling over and smiling as Quinn climbs up with her, and re-connects their lips with a soft moan that Rachel returns.

But it's Rachel whose hand slides under Quinn's shirt, and its her fingers that grip at the hem and pull it over Quinn's head, and it's her that kisses her way down Quinn's heaving chest and over her bra and down her soft, firm, flat stomach, and it's her fingers once again that tug at the button on Quinn's jeans.

And it's Rachel that slides her fingers up Quinn's writhing body and laces them through Quinn's waiting fingers, and grips her hand tight.


Rachel knows that Quinn doesn't remember the party the next day at school when Quinn smiles at her and bumps into her shoulder lightly, like she always does. She knows that Quinn had thought nothing of it when she had woken up alone in Puck's bedroom this morning, with all the clothes that Rachel had taken off and put back on in place. Rachel knows that for all Quinn doesn't know, that none of last night was a lie.

And that's what tears at Rachel the most, knowing Quinn feels such deep things for her, that Quinn loves her, and that she can act like this, act like she doesn't dream of Rachel taking her hand and whispering in her ear like lovers do.

Rachel doesn't know what last night meant for herself - she couldn't reason it away as a drunken mistake, because she had wanted it, so very much, and wanting something that much made it anything but regrettable.

It hadn't been her first time - Finn had taken that with his charming smile and his patience with her, and she had given it willingly, lovingly. But in the face of what had transpired between she and Quinn, it had been nothing. Finn was her boyfriend, the boy who had stood by her through the past two years, and she felt love for him. But her world had shifted its focus, and so she broke up with him a day later, claiming there was someone else and she needed to focus on herself for just a little while.


A week later and Rachel has realized nothing, except that Finn still has the gift of making her feel guiltier than anyone else, but she pushes through. She finds herself watching Quinn, watching how the blonde slides closer to Puck whenever she's talking to a pretty girl, as if he'll protect her from the thoughts in her own head. Quinn and Puck were almost attached at the hip these days, fused together as a singular being. It was obvious enough that Puck still had deep feelings for Quinn, but Quinn was a mystery, an inscrutable code that couldn't be cracked, not even by her closest friends.

It was obvious to Rachel, now, why that was.

Sometimes, though, Rachel would catch the way Quinn looked at her. It was obvious, so very obvious, that Quinn held her in high regard. Quinn's hazel eyes would latch onto her with such ferocity sometimes that Rachel would always flash back to the night at the party, the darkened tint in them dancing with love.

Every so often, Rachel would see this progression of feelings on Quinn's face, when Rachel would talk or sing or settle her hand into Quinn's as a gesture. It started with exhilaration, a smile pulling at Quinn's lips, before a flash of pain shot across it, chased by a sort of suffering and settling on a grim smile that bared no resemblance to the unadulterated happiness that had been there moments before.

She notices things, things about Quinn that she's never noticed before. She sees the way Quinn holds herself sometimes, her hands placed lightly on her stomach, where Beth Corcoran had once made her home. Rachel sees the way Quinn's fingers are thin and pale as they splay out into the open air when Quinn is singing, really singing, remembers how they felt splaying out on her own tan skin.

She sees the way Quinn's hair flips around when she's walking down the hallway, the blonde curls catching the air and flying out, catching the sun and shining.

Rachel sees it all, and every day, Quinn becomes more and more beautiful to her eyes.


Rachel wonders what people would think of her.

She is everything a town like Lima despises - a girl who has ambition, and talks too much, and has original ideas, and sees herself with confidence. She has two gay fathers, and a love of Broadway show tunes unmatched in the tri-state area. She wants to go to New York City, and she intends to become a star there. Rachel Berry wears sweaters with animals that have unblinking eyes, and short skirts and penny loafers and knee socks, and Rachel Berry believes with all her heart that Quinn Fabray is the most beautiful being to ever walk the earth.

She hasn't ever had to consider what kind of hell her life might become if she found her full-force of feeling directed toward a girl, she hadn't ever thought this might happen. But it's happening, with every moment that ticks by, every moment since Quinn had stumbled towards her and wrapped her pale arms around Rachel's small body and kissed her. Rachel doesn't want to be more hated than she is, doesn't want to be what everyone thinks she would be, doesn't want to reinforce the stereotype that a gay couple can only produce gay children, doesn't want to love Quinn.

Rachel tells her fathers, one night, after a healthy dinner with three courses. She tells them that she is falling in love, with Quinn, and that she doesn't know what to do, doesn't want to be afraid of the world, but is anyway, because the world has treated her with nothing but contempt since her introduction to it.

And her fathers - her loving, amazing, beautiful fathers, who have treated her with nothing but full-hearted love like any other parents, better than many other parents - tell her that Rachel Berry is never afraid, and that they believe in her, stand by her, no matter who she decides she is, or who she loves, or whoever she dreams of when she closes her eyes.

And that person, most assuredly, is Quinn Fabray.


Quinn invites Rachel to a sleepover one day, and smiles her special Rachel smile when Rachel accepts. Rachel feels so at home when Quinn smiles at her, and so she smiles back.

It's fun, being with Quinn when she's not hyperaware of her surroundings, when she has nothing to fear. Quinn's mother is not overbearing, nothing like the sort of woman who would allow her own daughter to be kicked to the streets, and she is sweet to Rachel, hugs her when Rachel comes through the door.

There's a small moment where Quinn rushes upstairs to retrieve a DVD from her room, intent upon making Rachel watch it, and Quinn's mother watches Quinn rush upstairs while Rachel does the same, and sighs quietly. Rachel turns her eyes to Mrs. Fabray, who turns and looks at her with a soft smile. And she says:

"There's nothing I regret more than letting her leave this house."

And she smiles so sadly, so very much like Quinn, that Rachel can't help herself and lets out a sigh, wishing there was something that she could say to make the sadness that pervades the woman's eyes go away, wishing there was something she could do to make it disappear from Quinn's eyes when she looked at Rachel.

Quinn comes bounding down the stairs to find Rachel staring at the floor and her mother staring at Rachel, and Rachel can feel the way Quinn's eyes flit back and forth before Rachel feels strong arms come around her and pull her tight against a too-familiar body, and Quinn's soft voice in her ear, asking what was wrong.

But Rachel's eyes lock onto Mrs. Fabray, who is watching Quinn hold Rachel with curiosity, with sadness, with conflict written across her cobalt eyes. But she smiles at Rachel, and nods at her, and steps forward to press a kiss to her daughter's forehead before she says she'll be upstairs.

That night, Quinn slides into bed next to Rachel and whispers goodnight and all Rachel can think that it sounded much better whispered against her skin and with the press of a kiss following after Quinn's words.


Rachel feels like a chess piece being moved, in transition. In her mind, she is both who she was and who she feels she will be, and part of her wishes that she will just be pulled back to her old square. She wishes she could be in love with Finn and feel uncomplicated.

But then Quinn smiles at her and Rachel doesn't quite mind the complication.


One day, Quinn's mother calls Rachel and sounds desperate, and says that Quinn is missing. Santana calls minutes later and says she and Brittany can't find Quinn, and moments after that, Puck calls and tells her to "get off her ass and find Quinn."

The church is the last ditch attempt.

Rachel finds Quinn in one of the front pews, her head set on the back of the bench in front of her, and her fingers grasping a Bible in her hands, flipping through the pages with no aim. When Rachel stops at the end of the row and her shoes give a squeak at the sudden break in movement, Quinn's head shoots up.

Her face is streaked with bright tears, and her mouth trembles as she opens and closes it, trying to fit words in and Rachel feels an answering wave of sympathy and pain shoot through her at Quinn's obvious fear. In the end, Quinn just closes her mouth around the sounds trying to come out and whimpers, sinking further into her seat and ducking her head to hide from Rachel.

Rachel stands there for a moment, unsure if Quinn wants her closer or not, until Quinn's hand reaches down and curls around the wood of the bench, her knuckles going white under the strain of her tears. Rachel slides in, and picks up Quinn's hand easily, grasping it in both of hers, tracing along the familiar bones and tendons. Quinn doesn't look at Rachel, just shivers and slides closer, her sobs picking up and echoing through the empty church.

When Quinn calms, her face tilts backwards to look at Rachel, and she smiles a little. Rachel doesn't smile back, just pulls one of her hands away from Quinn's and traces along the tear tracks on Quinn's face, wiping away the wetness and smiling only when the blonde's face is clean of sadness.

Rachel stays with Quinn, that night, and accepts the kiss on her forehead from Quinn's mother when she comes to check on Quinn in the middle of the night, because it feels as if it's something like acceptance.


After that, Quinn spends most of her time watching Rachel, and more than once, more than plenty of times, their eyes meet and they hold for just a little too long.

Rachel doesn't know how long she can pretend, not anymore.


Quinn kisses her, a few weeks after they win regionals. It's another sleepover, and Quinn's mother has been in her study for hours, and they've just finished bouncing around the room to Bad Romance. Quinn takes one look at her, and smiles, and, she reaches back towards Rachel and pulls the smaller girl up against her and kisses her.

It feels like forever.

When it ends, Quinn's forehead leans against Rachel's and she smiles, beautifully, and her fingers pick up and run through Rachel's hair and ensconce themselves there. Rachel remembers what that feels like, and she closes her eyes and draws backwards.

When she opens her eyes again, Quinn's eyes are trained on her, shining, her lip drawn between her teeth as she waits for Rachel to say something. And so Rachel does.

"Do you remember the party? At Puck's? Do you remember any of it?"

And Quinn frowns, her eyebrows drawing together as she tries to remember.

"I remember...getting there. And getting a few drinks. I remember...waking up. I remember..."

Rachel frowns, and takes another step back, her fingers settling on the couch at her side, playing with a loose string coming out of the fabric.

"I woke up, and...I felt happy."

Rachel's eyes snap up to meet Quinn's as the taller girl tries to process something.

"And when I opened my eyes, I felt...sad. Someone...someone had been with me. You were with me. You were with me," she whispers, her hazel eyes shimmering.

Rachel nods, slowly, wondering if Quinn's realized the full breadth of what had transpired that night.

"I thought it was just a dream," Quinn whispers, tears spilling over as she watches Rachel, as she reaches for Rachel. "I thought Puck had put me in his room because I got too drunk and I fell asleep and had a dream. I thought it was a dream."

Rachel reaches for Quinn's searching hand and shakes her head, and she pulls it up to her lips and kisses the pale knuckles dusted with freckles and whispers:

"It wasn't a dream."

Quinn pulls her closer and kisses her, and for the first time in weeks, Rachel's world rights itself, just in time for Quinn to pull back far enough for her lips to barely brush Rachel's as she whispers, "I love you."

Rachel whispers right back, her fingers finding Quinn's and lacing through them.

"I love you, too."