Quinn twirled the box in her hands several times as she bit her lip. Downstairs the sounds of obnoxious laughter filtered up to her bedroom along with the faint hum of Christmas music, but the blonde shut her eyes and tried to block it out.
Her parents' annual Christmas Eve party was underway and the blonde had retreated upstairs to the sanctuary of her bedroom to avoid having to have yet another drunken conversation with one of her mom's annoying friends or her father's gross co-workers.
But really, if she were honest, her retreat had more to do with the present in her hands than anything else.
Earlier that day at school, the members of New Directions exchanged Secret Santa gifts. Quinn had received a beautiful cream-colored scarf from Mercedes that her friend had knitted. The blonde was quite pleased with the present—and the fact that Mercedes had been her Secret Santa—and was happy with how the glee meeting had gone that day. And then…Rachel Berry happened.
For whatever reason, the diva thought it was a good idea to give everyone a present, even though the brunette only needed to give Tina a gift. Quinn assumed Rachel was bored—now that Finn broke up with her, surely Rachel had a lot of time on her hands. Or maybe the diva needed an excuse to give her ex boyfriend a present and thought that if she bought something for everyone, Finn would have to accept Rachel's gift to him. Perhaps Rachel just really was generous. Well…for whatever reason, the diva did it.
Everyone was really quite stunned by Rachel's gesture—especially since Rachel's Secret Santa had failed to give the brunette a gift at all. And to make matters worse, Rachel's presents had been spot-on. Every present she gave fit the receiver as though she knew each person so well. It was the reason Quinn had yet to open her own present. It was actually kind of weird, the blonde thought, that she hadn't unwrapped the gift. Instead, she just kept looking at it…or holding it…shaking it as though it would whisper what it was or suddenly spring forth clues to what unknown surprise was inside.
Quinn didn't want to open the gift in front of the club and Rachel out of embarrassment—the origins unknown—and luckily she had been spared reveling what was inside because Figgins had suddenly appeared in the choir room, doubled-over, sweaty profusely, and extremely out of breath. Apparently the string quartet he had hired to perform at the school assembly was stuck in Cincinnati buried under a few feet of snow. He had practically begged Mr. Schue to have the glee club perform, and Quinn thought for a moment that her teacher would decline out of bitterness that New Directions wasn't asked to begin with. But sure enough, Will agreed—despite the glee club's grumblings and reminders of their caroling debacle earlier that week—and everyone was quickly thrown into a whirl-wind of brush-ups on Christmas songs and a few new ones that Mr. Schue wanted to try out in hopes that the school would be a little more receptive.
Although Quinn quite liked Mr. Schue's mash-up of Deck the Rooftop and the boys' rendition of Jingle Bells, they were losing their audience quickly. No one had thrown anything yet, but the boos were audible and everyone was mostly talking over their performance anyway. That was until Rachel.
It was never the plan for the tiny brunette to sing a solo, but Rachel must have sensed that something needed to be done. So with a quick word to Brad and the band, Rachel stepped forward on stage as the open notes to O Holy Night started to play. The other glee members had no idea what to do. They hadn't practiced the song and most were unfamiliar with the words. Quinn wasn't. It's her favorite. But she didn't know where to stand like everyone else and Mr. Schue was no help—wide-eyed and pulling his hair as he watched the diva take her place.
But then silence.
Like freaking Houdini, Rachel Berry had silenced the audience by the second note she had hit. New Directions stood awkwardly behind her, jaws open in wonder, as Rachel belted out the song as though she had practiced it only moments before.
Maybe it was because she wasn't expecting it. Or maybe it was because it's her favorite Christmas song. Or perhaps because Rachel's voice really is amazing. Whatever it was, Quinn was speechless like the rest of the club. They all had forgotten that they were on stage and were supposed to be singing. The blonde couldn't recall ever hearing a version of O Holy Night sung quite as beautifully. She was awestruck, she was breathless, and later she'd realize she had been crying. She couldn't take her eyes off of Rachel. No one could. Until the second verse, anyway, when Will gestured profusely offstage to instruct his club to sing backup and to thicken up on vocals—which, frankly, didn't need thickening.
But Quinn didn't sing. She couldn't. Her hazel eyes had locked-on to Rachel's profile and wouldn't let go as the diva threw her all into her performance. She barely felt Santana's elbow to the stomach trying to prompt her singing. She didn't notice that around her, everyone else in the club had tears in their eyes as well. And Figgins. And Will. And pretty much everyone in the audience. She was too busy staring at Rachel and trying to decipher the flip-flop feeling in her stomach.
The music swelled and crescendo-ed will such power and grace that goose bumps simultaneously broke out upon everyone in the room in admiration. They were in a trance. And when the final big note broke and Rachel extended her arms as though the music was actually going through her, tears spilled over Quinn Fabray's long eyelashes and tumbled down her pale cheeks with the help of the sob she couldn't hold in. It was all so breathtaking. Rachel had been breathtaking. Her impromptu performance, her generosity, the fact that she gave everyone the perfect gift unnecessarily—it was all so breathtaking to Quinn. And the perfection on the cake—the thing that really made Quinn's heart ache—was when Rachel simply gave her applauding audience a small smile—one that almost said "Don't mention it, really."
It made Quinn feel like Rachel had only sang the song to shut everyone up so that New Directions could go back to their lack-luster performance that included songs the blonde thought were trying a little too hard to prove something. But Rachel had heart, and the song proved it. After the applause died down and Rachel moved back and stage left along with the other glee members, Will had decided that they all should end on Rachel's jaw-dropping note and ushered them off stage.
But Rachel didn't linger with the rest of the club. She didn't stick around to watch New Directions sputter and gush about her performance. She didn't wave goodbye and wish everyone a good break. No. She just left. Not like they had planned to stick around, though. Everyone's rides were waiting. Everyone was ready for the assembly to be over so they could start their break. No one planned to go back to the choir room, look at their present from Rachel, and blankly trade stunned stares at what just transpired. But they all did.
Quinn twirled the heavy gift between the palms of her hands a few more times as she thought back to the way Rachel smiled and then just left. Finn dumped her. He had slept with Santana. Everyone in glee club made it obvious they disliked her—even Mr. Schue—and her Secret Santa had failed to procure a gift for the diva. No wonder she had left, Quinn thought.
More obnoxious laughing floated through the cracks of Quinn's bedroom door and the blonde quickly sprung from her bed to turn on her radio in hopes of drowning it out. The dial was set to a Christmas station and Quinn only listened to the first few bars of Frosty the Snowman until she made up her mind; she was opening Rachel's gift.
Despite the pristine wrap-job and flawless bow that sat atop, Quinn ripped through the paper sending it flying in all directions. But, as she held the heavy box in her hands and gazed down at the present Rachel Berry had given her earlier that day, all thoughts of "breathtaking performances," and "selfless gift-giving," flew right out the window.
"She got me a vibrator?"
It was, perhaps, the most difficult thing Rachel Berry had ever done. Hands down. She was furious with herself for ever coming up with the idea! Why oh why did she ever think she could do it!
It seemed like such a nice idea at the time; buying everyone in glee club a present. And it had been somewhat easy. All but Quinn Fabray. All week she had been driving herself mad trying to come up with the perfect gift for the blonde. She was getting so desperate that Rachel found herself just staring at Quinn, waiting for a stroke of genius to hit.
Finally, the brunette just kind of gave up. She was all set to just buy the blonde a freaking gift card and be done with it. Call it a day. Throw in the towel. Or whatever other quitting metaphors there were. She just couldn't do it anymore. But then…genius hit.
It had been that morning they were set to exchange presents, Quinn stood in front of her opened locker with Sam at her side. Rachel watched from her own locker, still kind of hoping she'd get an idea…when she saw it. Quinn rolled her shoulders, cracked her neck, and then lifted her hand to massage her lower back as she winced. It was obvious to Rachel that the blonde had been in pain. She couldn't understand why Quinn shrugged off Sam's attempt to massage the area himself—probably because Quinn was adverse to touching from her boyfriends—but it gave Rachel the idea.
Because Rachel Berry is well-versed in all things performance related, she too knew the trials and tribulations of strenuous physicality and the rigors that accompanied it. It was why her fathers had bought her the massage kit a few years prior. It mind as well be the diva's best friend—relieving a sore back, tight shoulders, aching feet, callused hands…the massage kit was a miracle worker if you asked Rachel. And the brunette was excited to purchase the kit for the blonde—seeing as how Quinn needed one and she didn't want her boyfriend to do the job himself. It was perfect!
The only problem was Rachel didn't have time to get it. They would be exchanging presents later on that day and she had school. Her only hope was leaving campus during lunch. Which she did, despite being terrified of getting caught.
But another problem erupted once Rachel got to Relaxation, the store in the mall that sold the massage kit her fathers had given her. The kit cost way over the price limit Mr. Schue had set on the Secret Santa gifts. And Rachel didn't want to go exceed the fifteen dollar cap so as not to offend anyone—especially Quinn Fabray because she did scare Rachel slightly—or you know, a lot. But Rachel was in a race against time! It had taken her almost ten minutes to get to Lima Mall from school, over ten minutes to park and get to the store, and she still needed to find the present, wait in line, purchase the gift, and get back to her car and school! But she couldn't be thwarted! She had come so far!
The short-haired store clerk chuckled to herself as she watched Rachel Berry unravel in the midst of Relaxation. It was obvious to the blonde that the girl in the extremely short and alluring skirt was about to have a nervous breakdown. Ignoring the many customers around her attempting to get her attention, the store clerk pushed off the back wall and strutted over towards Rachel. "Can I help you with something?"
Rachel turned to the clerk with panic in her brown eyes. "Please tell me you have an inexpensive massage kit, on hand, that I could purchase quickly!"
The store clerk chuckled again and, as discretely as possible, checked out Rachel's long legs before glancing back up at the anxious girl. "How inexpensive?"
"Anything under fifteen dollars! I'm willing to pay twenty but any more than that and I fear Quinn really will punch me in my face for my insolence!" By now Rachel was in near hysterics. "I have to get her a massage kit because she doesn't let boys touch her and I've been watching her all week and she's been touching herself all the time, rubbing herself, and I feel like a stalker because every chance I get I'm following her around staring at her and you must understand that she is beautiful and perfect and impossible to buy for but I think that if I get her a massage kit then maybe she'll stop calling me Man-hands and maybe we could even have a spa day and use our massage kits together!" Rachel raced out, breathing hard and looking up at the girl imploringly.
Store clerk bit her lower lip playfully as she considered, already knowing that nothing in the shop was in Rachel's price-range, but wanted to prolong the chat for just a little longer.
"I'm not sure…" The girl began, now actually trying to come up with something in hopes she could be the diva's hero. "…Maybe…but…no, that wouldn't be what you're looking for."
"Please, tell me!" Rachel all but shouted, grabbing the store clerk's shoulders forcefully. She only had around seven minutes to play with or else she'd be late. "If you have any information that would at all be helpful, you must tell me!" The girl chuckled and smiled at the brunette.
"So this…Quinn girl…you like her or something?" The clerk asked, enjoying the fact that Rachel's hands were still holding her. But at the question, the diva's arms dropped to her side in bemusement. Why does that matter? Rachel thought.
"It's…complicated?" Rachel answered with a shrug as her eyebrows furrowed. She didn't really have time for this.
"I understand." The store clerk nodded, thinking about her own complicated relationship with her on again off again girlfriend. "But this is important to you, this gift? This 'massage kit?'" Rachel did not at all like the smirk on the girl's face and couldn't understand why she had used air quotes but nodded enthusiastically all the same.
"Yes, I need a 'massage kit.'" Rachel replied, using air quotes of her own, only because the sales clerk had, but unsure of the reason. But the girl had a right to be smirking. Here was a very attractive brunette earnestly talking about a girl the clerk thought Rachel was crushing hard on. And to be fair, what Rachel said did sound kind of gay. Throw in the fact that the diva had basically confirmed the store clerks presumptions by using the air quotes, and the worker knew just present she thought Rachel was looking for.
"So she touches herself…but won't let boys do it. You stare at her because she's beautiful and a perfect, and you're hoping you two can 'massage' yourselves together?" Rachel furrowed her brow, not really understanding why the girl was recapping what she had just said or why she had twisted it to make it sound weird…and kind of dirty. But she didn't have time to correct her.
"Yes! Now can you help me! I only have five minutes before I'm off schedule and I can't be late for school!"
"You're in high school?" The clerk almost shrieked before she immediately straightened her posture so she wasn't leering at Rachel any longer.
"Yes!" Once the store clerk realized that hitting on Rachel was illegal, she was a lot quicker to help the brunette and hastily gave her the store name before practically shoving Rachel out of Relaxation. Not like it mattered, once Rachel heard the store's name, she was out of there like a bullet from a gun.
"Ask for Kenny!" The store clerk shouted at Rachel's back as the diva sprinted into the mall's traffic. Rachel waved over her shoulder to show she heard the girl and that she was grateful before she increased her pace.
By the time she got to Spencer's—a store she had never actually been in, always under the impression that it was a gag-gift store and not worth her time—she only had a minute or two left before she'd be off schedule and, in result, late for her next period class.
Luckily Kenny had been working the register and quickly handed over the massage kit, Santa's Little Helper, before he rung it up and gift wrapped it—quite well Rachel thought, impressed—before she was dashing out of the store and hurried back to school. The brunette hadn't actually looked at the kit, however. It was under fifteen dollars, Christmas-themed, and a massage kit…that's all Rachel cared about. It was no Euphoria 3000, but it would have to do. If Rachel had taken a gander at her purchase, she would have seen that, although it could be used to massage sore areas, the actual intent of Santa's Little Helper was a bit more…provocative.
Rachel had been disappointed with her Secret Santa, although, not surprised. It was difficult to say who the culprit had been because everyone was exchanging gifts with each other and she was the only one left out. Her Secret Santa really could have been anyone. She was further disappointed when Quinn hadn't opened the kit; Rachel was hoping she could take a look at it, apologize that it wasn't top of the line, or maybe show the blonde how they work—Euphoria 3000 had been a little tricky to figure out at first. At the very least she would have liked to see Quinn use it—smile because now she wouldn't have to live with all of the pain she's had to shoulder because of Cheerios. But then Figgins came in and well…things only got worse from there.
It was bad enough that Finn had dumped her, that her Secret Santa had dismissed her, that no one had thanked her for their present…add all of that to the fact that the school was booing them, and Rachel was just plain miserable. She couldn't take it anymore and just wanted it all to be done with. Suddenly, she was looking forward to the time away from glee and school.
Rachel took the initiative during the assembly because she figured that she would collectively receive the most boos—that even her fellow glee-clubbers would turn on her—and they could wrap up the assembly and all go home. She didn't think people would enjoy it—which is frankly ridiculous, because under usual circumstances Rachel just assumed people would love her performances. But she was a little down and the stress of the day had taken its toll and all the brunette wanted to do was go home, use Euphoria 3000, take a bath, and enjoy her evening. So that's what she did.
Luckily Rachel still had around an hour to unwind before her fathers' friends were set to arrive. It was a tradition. Hanukkah was eight days to spend visiting families, so Christmas Eve the Berrys always hosted a party for their friends; serving Chinese food, drinks, casual conversation, and usually a few musical numbers from Rachel herself. Tradition. And she had been looking forward to it all week; it had been a particularly shitty week, after all.
Once Rachel's dads' friends started to arrive, the stress of the school week began to melt away. Each guest brought the diva belated Hanukkah and birthday presents and were genuinely happy to see her. No, none of her fathers' friends were remotely close to her age, but that was fine; it seemed she was under appreciated by the youth of today.
The Berrys' party was in full-swing when Quinn had opened her present across town—Rachel laughing and chatting with different people that she considered her family, playing her part as hostess well, enjoying her evening. She couldn't have possibly known that right at that moment, as she restocked the crackers and refilled her father's "special" eggnog, that Quinn Fabray was seeing red. That the blonde was livid. That she was throwing her jacket on and seething as she sneaked out of her family's party with the intention of confronting the diva on her very unexpected and inappropriate gift.
"I cannot freaking believe, Berry! Of all the-that she would-if she thinks that-…I cannot freaking believe, Berry!" That's pretty much all Quinn could say as she drove to Rachel's—gripping the steering wheel tightly, shooting angry glances over at the present sitting on her passenger seat, as she tried to navigate through the snow-covered streets of Lima while her windshield wipers furiously tried to make visibility possible.
Quinn truly couldn't understand what Rachel had been thinking. Did that midget think it would be funny? Was she trying to piss me off? Did she actually think I'd want one of these things? That I needed it? Well she's in for a world of pain!
Once the blonde caught sight of the box, she had been mortified. Never in her life had she ever expected to see a vibrator up close, never mind receive one as a gift…from Rachel Berry of all people. Santana, maybe. Puck, definitely. But Rachel Berry? Quinn didn't know what to believe.
After locking her bedroom door, the blonde carefully opened the box as though it contained a bomb. Peaking out of one eye, Quinn slid the inner cardboard out as her heart raced, and only when she knew that whatever had been in the box was out—maybe she had been mistaken, maybe a vibrator wasn't really inside—did she fully open her eyes. "OH MY, GOD!"
No, she hadn't been mistaken.
Quinn hastily threw her comforter over the red silicone vibrator, dropped down to her knees, and covered her eyes with her shaking hands. "This cannot be happening!" The blonde breathed out; mortification taking over completely. She could feel how hot her face and neck had become and her body erupted in a slight sheen of sweat. How the hell am I going to hide this thing? I can't freaking throw it away! I can't very well keep it in my bedroom!
A full five minutes passed before Quinn scurried to her knees and grasped the ends of her comforter. Slowly, the blonde began lifting her blanket up and peered beneath the soft yellow blanket until all she could see was the vibrator. It was hidden in the shadows of her comforter, but as far as Quinn was concerned, it was proudly sitting on top her bed with a spotlight directly upon it as a doomsday-like drumbeat banged away in a sinister decrescendo that coincided with her heart rate. It felt like the organ was literally on its way to failure.
Quinn dropped her blanket and whipped around until she was sitting on the floor with her back rising and falling quickly against the base of her bed. "Bubbles." Quinn breathed out in desperation. "Getting Brittany bubbles makes sense. Artie freaking loved his typewriting. Mike dances, so the dance DVD was perfect. Santana is a huge bitch, so naturally, getting her a necklace that proclaims just that is so Santana. Getting Sex Shark on a t-shirt for Puck makes sense. A hat for Mercedes. Candy for Lauren. A harmonica for Sam. Makeup for Tina. Even that dumbass sweater for Finn was fine." Quinn was almost hyperventilating. "Why the FUCK did she get me a vibrator?" The blonde breathed out anxiously.
That's when the blind rage started. Quinn got it stuck in her head that Rachel's intention was to humiliate the blonde—that it was a joke, that it was poking fun at her new-found celibacy, or perhaps a dig about the previous year's pregnancy. Whatever the reasoning, Quinn didn't like it, and she'd be damned if she was going to let the diva get away with it. And she sure as shit was giving the thing back; the blonde couldn't very well be caught in possession of it!
If it were possible, the snow had picked up in ferocity just as Quinn parked her car in front of the Berry residence. She glanced at herself in the vanity mirror and realized how red her cheeks were because of her anger and embarrassment. The anger only doubled when she caught sight of the one caret diamond earrings her father had given her for Christmas. He had only bought them for her to show off to his coworkers and to suck up to Judy; his wife wanted him to "try"with Quinn. She angrily ripped them from her ears and tossed them on the passenger side seat before she picked up the gift bag beside her and got out of her car.
Her pale face kept contorting in rage as she gripped her pea coat closer to her body and trudged up towards the front door; practicing exactly what she wanted to say to Rachel—or scream, yell, holler, and curse—as Santa's Little Helper swayed back and forth inside the red gift bag she had dropped in using her mother tongs from the kitchen and was carrying tightly in her hand.
The ride over had fueled Quinn's hostility and she had worked herself up into quite the frenzy, really ready to lay it on Rachel for her inappropriate gift. But after the blonde banged on the door several times, very hard, suddenly Quinn regretted the trip. "Oh!" Quinn started, surprised. "Um…hi?" Suddenly, the spotlight was back, and the blonde was sure that Rachel's father knew that Quinn had a vibrator on her person. Her face was about as red as the gift itself.
Mr. Berry chuckled unsurely as she stared down at the teenage girl. His daughter had never mentioned that she invited one of her friends over, and the sudden appearance of the blonde caught him off-guard. "May I help you?"
Quinn bit her lip as she heard the laughter from inside the house. It's freaking Christmas Eve, Fabray, what did you expect? "You know what…never mind." The blonde mumbled before she turned around, fully intent on retreating back to her car and returning home.
Again, Mr. Berry was laughing. "Now wait a minute. You can't drive in this!" Quinn turned back awkwardly as the tall man gestured to the snow storm. Quinn couldn't even make out her own tire tracks she had made only moments ago on the streets and her footprints were already invisible.
"I don't…" Quinn cleared her voice as she took small steps towards her car while guestimating Mr. Berry's age, weight, cardiovascular experience, and the weather's manipulation versus her own chances of racing back to her car before he could stop her. "I don't want to interrupt…you're having a party so I'll just…" She trailed off as she pointed towards her car, but Mr. Berry was walking towards her. She would never be able to make it to her car in time, especially with Santa's Little Helper weighing her down; it felt like a ton of bricks.
"Nonsense. It's an open party for whoever wants to attend. Please, come inside; Rachel will be pleased." Almost as though she heard her name, the diva danced towards the open front door. Quinn could just catch the fading smile from the brunette's face before a look of surprise surfaced.
"Quinn? Wha-what are you doing here?" Mr. Berry smiled hugely, happy to see that the blonde had managed to surprise his daughter.
"She was just coming in to join us." He explained to his confused daughter, whose eyes only went big with the information. "You'll be spending the night, Quinn. The roads look atrocious! Please call your parents and inform them." He finished with a smile before he went back inside the house.
The two girls just stood there; Quinn, looking everywhere but at Rachel, and Rachel only looking at Quinn, still beyond shocked by the blonde's appearance.
This was Quinn's chance. Rachel would never be able to stop her from sprinting back towards her car. Just as the realization hit that the blonde could leave, Quinn froze on the spot by the sudden voice. "Oh, Quinn! We're so delighted you could stop by!" The blonde glanced up to see Rachel's other father in the doorway beside his daughter, smiling from ear to ear as he pushed up his glasses. "And I see you brought a gift, delightful!" He said happily as he gestured towards the gift bag tightly gripped in Quinn's hand. "Do come in, it's cold outside."
Quinn swallowed with grand difficulty; she had never been so nervous and flustered in her life. She was trapped! She was trapped at Rachel Berry's house. With both her fathers. And, by the sound of it, a lot of guests. With a freaking vibrator! And Quinn was pretty sure that being in possession of a vibrator on Christmas Eve was sacrilegious. The fact that the vibrator was in the shape of a scantily clad Christmas elf and she was about to enter the home of a Jewish family just made things seem that much epically worse.
Still, Quinn stayed rooted in her spot, not daring to move a muscle towards Rachel, her father, their home, or the hell that lay inside. She was freezing. Her tennis shoes she wore for Cheerios were soaked through—it didn't even occur to Quinn to put on boots. She was only wearing a light white dress underneath her pea coat and her blonde hair was drenched from the snow. Still, she remained standing in the Berrys' front yard. "I think I'm going to risk driving home." Quinn mumbled, her voice completely vacant of any inflection besides sheer terror. "I'm sure it will be fine."
"I don't know, Quinn," Mr. Berry started, staring around the blanketed streets before looking back to the girl. "It looks really bad." He emphasized his point be shivering and wrapping his arm around Rachel's bare shoulders; her black velvet dress was not keeping her warm.
God, Quinn started her silent pray and glanced up to the heavens. I promise, on the eve of the second holiest day, if you get me out of this, I swear to you that I will join a convent and give my life over to your teachings and ways. Amen.
It was at that precise moment another car parked in front of the Berry household and a couple collapsed out of the vehicle anxiously. Mr. Berry greeted them with a smile—momentarily taking his eyes off of the puzzling girl before him—and waved them in.
"The roads are catastrophic!" The one man said by way of greeting as he passed Quinn and made his way towards the front door.
"We nearly didn't make it!" The other man exclaimed as he embraced Rachel and her father before dusting off the snow that had fallen on his hair and shoulders and going inside.
That's two for two you screwed me. Quinn mused as she sucked on her teeth and thought back to the only other desperate prayer she had ever made in her life—Beth came anyway. I'm officially keeping track, just so you know.
"Well I think that does it, Quinn. You'll stay here. It will be like one giant sleepover!" Mr. Berry gushed.
Rachel still stood silent next to her father, wondering what in the hell she had ever done to deserve this. All year she looked forward to this night, this party. And here was Quinn Fabray, out to ruin another good thing in Rachel's life.
"Is that a present for Rae?" Rachel's father asked as his gesturing hands brought Quinn closer to the door, centimeter by centimeter. At the question, the blonde's eyes widened and she shook her head violently in panic. "You didn't get something for the party, did you? That was unnecessary."
"No, um," Quinn cleared her throat uncomfortably as she inched her way closer to the front door. She turned slightly when the idea hit her. "You know what, I'm just going to walk home." Mr. Berry laughed merrily and waved the idea off.
"If we can't have you for the whole party, at least stay and get warmed up." Why wasn't the man leaving? Quinn growled internally, wishing she could just run home without his input. She was freezing, but she had no desire to move inside the house.
"What's in the bag, Quinn?" Quinn was actually startled by Rachel's voice and the tone the small brunette used; it sounded as though she suspected Quinn was carrying the Ebola virus. The blonde mused, it actually felt like she was.
"Oh…" Quinn tried desperately to try and come up with something but her mind was blank. "Nothing…I'm just going to go put it in my car." Her words were barely heard over the gust of wind that blew flakes of snow in every direction.
"No, Quinn. I would like to know what you brought me and my family." Rachel folded her arms across her chest in challenge. The brunette was almost certain that whatever Quinn had in her hand was not something the blonde wanted Rachel's fathers to see. She wondered if it was a carton of eggs that Quinn would use to graffiti their house or perhaps inside the gift bag there was dog poop that the blonde would set aflame and leave it on the Berrys' doorstep; Rachel just knew that Quinn was at her house with evil intentions.
The blonde continued the dance she had started earlier, quietly edging back towards her car. But Rachel was on to her and began taking long strides towards the petrified Cheerio. "Give me the bag, Quinn." The diva admonished, holding out her hand as she bore down on the blonde.
"Uh uh." Quinn replied, jerking her head side to side hastily while she continued her retreat.
"Give it to me!"
Mr. Berry watched the pair with his eyebrows raised. Girls were truly a mystery to him. For whatever reason, Quinn was embarrassed to give his daughter the present she had brought all the way over to their house in the middle of a blizzard.
"What's going on?" Mr. Berry turned to look up at his husband as they stood in the doorway together and watched his daughter make furious attempts to snatch the gift bag out of Quinn's hand.
"I think Quinn brought over a gift for Rachel, hoping to surprise her and now she's embarrassed."
"Aww, maybe she has a crush on our little star."
"Well isn't that adorable?" Mr. Berry gushed back, hand against his heart as he continued to gaze at the two girls, Rachel pulling on the bag and trying to wrestle it out of Quinn's hands.
"Rachel! Would you stop!"
"You, Quinn Fabray, are a horrible person who wants nothing in life but to humiliate me! You've come here under false pretenses in the hopes of ruining my evening! Whatever is in that bag is most likely an evil joke and I will not let you hurt my fathers!"
Quinn was startled with the hostility in Rachel's voice and the implication. "It's not like that!" Quinn growled back, clutching the gift bag close to her chest with her back to Rachel as the brunette made attempts to knock it from the blonde's grasp.
"Like hell it isn't!" Without another word, Rachel growled and jumped onto Quinn's back.
"What the hell are you doing, Berry?" Quinn shrieked in surprise. "Oh, crap!" It was the momentum that really had done it. The blonde was strong enough to carry Rachel on her back, but because the diva was thrashing all over the place trying to get the bag from Quinn, the Cheerio couldn't hold them up and face-planted into the snow.
Rachel rolled off of Quinn and immediately regretted it. Her stocking-covered legs were instantly soaked through and her bare arms and back were freezing on contact. Quinn wasn't fairing any better but she stayed were she was, lying on top of the gift bag, like a linebacker covering a football after a fumble. "I was just here to talk about your Christmas present you scary, elfin-like spaz!" Quinn screeched to the girl beside her. Luckily, Rachel's fathers couldn't hear over the gust of wind and snow, and at Quinn's words, the brunette instantly perked up.
"Oh! Why didn't you just say that?"
Ten minutes later—after Quinn had carefully placed Santa's Little Helper inside her car—she and Rachel were sitting on the Berrys' couch in front of a roaring fire, hot chocolate in their freezing hands, and were changed in Rachel's sweats. Both of their dresses were quietly rotating in the Berrys' dryer, which meant Quinn would have to stay at Rachel's for at least forty-five minutes longer.
Around them adults ate, drank, talked, and laughed as the two girls sat quietly on the couch at a loss of what to say to one another. The room began to clear out when one of Rachel's fathers told the room that Christmas Karaoke was starting in the den and soon it was just the two of them.
"So…you liked my present?" Rachel asked shyly, playing with the strings on her Wicked hoodie as she stared down at her lap. At the question, Quinn's eyebrow shot up in disbelief.
"Are you serious?" Rachel wasn't quite sure why Quinn sounded so hostile—maybe she was embarrassed that Rachel had gotten her a gift; some people were like that.
"Quinn, it really isn't anything to be embarrassed about-"
"Please tell me you're joking! You meant to get me that?" Quinn hissed, completely thrown by Rachel's cavalier remark.
"Yes, Quinn, I meant to get you that. I have one and use it all the time when I need to relax and thought, perhaps, you'd appreciate one of your own." Quinn was momentarily struck dumb; did Rachel Berry just admit that she had a vibrator and masturbated frequently? For some reason, Quinn gulped at the thought. "It's important to massage regularly to alleviate tension. I often times find that it truly improves performances." Quinn could only gawk at Rachel, her mouth wide as she stared at the brunette in awe.
"What?" The diva asked uncomfortably.
"I can't-this isn't happening. You are not saying this." Quinn dismissed, shaking her head ruefully before she took a sip of hot chocolate and seriously contemplating just storming out of the Berrys' house in Rachel's sweats and her wet tennis shoes and pea coat and taking her chances walking five miles home in the storm.
"I understand that you come from a conservative household," Quinn scoffed loudly and continued to look at Rachel as though she were crazy. "But massaging yourself is a very pleasurable experience that I think you should try!" Rachel's voice got louder at the end to drown out Quinn's irritated rebuttal.
"Can we, like, not talk about this? The gift itself was mortifying enough and the last thing I want to do is hear you talk about 'massaging' yourself!" Quinn hissed quietly as laughter filtered in from the den where the party was currently singing along to Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree. Rachel's eyes narrowed slightly, why does everyone use air-quotes whilst talking about massage kits?
"Quinn, you are being unreasonable!"
"I'm being unreasonable? You're the one that got me a…a… 'massage kit' for Christmas!" Quinn spat back, her cheeks reddening and far too embarrassed to actually say the word vibrator.
They were silent for a moment as they listened to the party sing in the other room, only the sounds of the wood crackling from the hearth in the dimly lit room to fill the tension.
"Are you embarrassed because you don't know how to use it?" Rachel asked delicately as she stared at the flames in the fireplace across from them. At the question, Quinn nearly exploded but kept her anger in check because of the room full of people nearby.
"Rachel, I am not discussing this with you!" Quinn whispered harshly.
"I only asked because I wasn't sure how Euphoria 3000 worked at first!" Rachel defended, holding up her hands as she tried to explain herself.
"I don't want to hear this!" Quinn whined as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, trying not to think of Rachel's "euphoric" experiences. Why had she opened the gift? Why had she come right over to Rachel's? It was sheer torture for the blonde! And it was only going to get worse.
"Well I'm sorry I wanted to talk about it, Quinn. But I was very disappointed earlier when I didn't get the opportunity to see your face when you opened it and was hoping that we could discuss it. So I apologize if I'm disappointed." Rachel grumbled.
"Why the hell would you want to see my face when I opened it?" Quinn bit out angrily.
"Well perhaps it would have delighted me seeing you happy, Quinn, I'm sorry I'm not as cold-hearted as you are! And maybe I wanted to see you use it, watch relief swim on your face and know that I choose your gift correctly!" Quinn could only stare and sputter at the diva, completely shocked by her confession.
"You wanted to see me use it?" Quinn finally asked incredulously.
"So what if I did, Quinn Fabray!" Rachel challenged back, folding her arms across her hoodie in determination as she looked at the blonde beside her. "Is it so wrong that I wanted to see you happy? You seem miserable all the time and in pain! So what if I wanted to finally see you smile! To let your guard down! Is that so terrible?"
Quinn couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"Is it so wrong that while I was using Euphoria 3000 earlier, I had idealistic fantasies of you using Santa's Little Helper and thinking of me? Is it so wrong that I thought that, perhaps, we could use our 'massage kits' together; a bonding experience that would bring us closer? That we could both forget about the boys in our life and just have some good old fashion girl fun?"
Quinn was shocked into utter and complete silence. She could almost handle Rachel simply just giving her the gift, but the words the brunette was saying had seriously deflated the anger out of Quinn. She couldn't believe that Rachel Berry was admitting, out loud, that she had thought of the blonde while she masturbated. That Rachel wanted to be with Quinn. For the diva to put it out there, so bluntly, had knocked the blonde on her ass.
"You were thinking of me?" Quinn mumbled in trepidation as she just stared at Rachel, eyes wide with surprise.
"Yes, Quinn, I was." Rachel stated as she dropped her hands down to her sweat pants to anxiously smooth them out. "I was watching you all week, trying to find the best gift. I noticed that you never let Sam touch you and thought…well…I thought because of that, the 'massage kit' would be useful." Poor Rachel. She probably shouldn't have picked up the air-quotes habit. The blonde blinked soundlessly as she tried to soak it all in. "I never let Finn massage me either, knowing that he would probably want more if I had, so I'd use Euphoria 3000 when I wanted relief." Rachel was a little caught off-guard by Quinn's stunned silence, so she continued quickly.
"I just wanted to make you happy, to help you, and thought that maybe if I got you the 'massage kit' I would be able to. I understand that we are not friends and that, perhaps, being with me isn't something you aspire to. But if you ever want to have a night where you just unwind and have a good time, I'm always here." Rachel dropped her head to stare at her lap. It was nerve-wracking having Quinn just gawk at her like she was doing. She didn't think what she was saying was all that crazy, but she did know that the blonde practically hated her…so maybe she was being unrealistic. "No one would need to know." Rachel whispered, trying to make it a little easier on the blonde.
Quinn, on the other hand, was flabbergasted. Rachel was making everything sound so…so…mundane. Like the idea of two women masturbating together…thinking of each other while they do it, wasn't a big deal. The brunette was making it all sound…normal. And then, without her permission, the visions started.
Suddenly Quinn's mind was flooded with visuals of Rachel touching herself, whispering the blonde's name while she did it. Naked, lying on her bed, head thrown back, thrusting in and out of herself. Quinn swallowed with effort before the scene changed and now she was there, watching Rachel touch herself. Undressing as her eyes feasted on the enthralling scene. Then the two girls were together, kissing, touching, caressing, thrusting…Quinn's chest was heaving as she stared off at some unknown point as each scene swirled in her mind like a sexy kaleidoscope.
She licked her lips and tried desperately to come up with something to say. Trying to find the will to yell at the diva or run screaming from the house. But the fight was gone. She was…aroused. The way Rachel made it all seem so ordinary had Quinn convinced that it could be. That she didn't need to go on lying to herself and perhaps she'd finally get the physical attention that she so urgently craved without having to force herself to go near her boyfriend.
"That…" Quinn gulped and shuddered, shocked by her realization. "…Doesn't sound so bad." She mumbled, only able to stare down at her hands in her lap. But at her words, Rachel beamed. "I'm not sure if…if I'm ready for Santa's Little Helper though." Quinn laughed uncomfortably as she pictured the vibrator hidden underneath the seat in her car. Rachel smiled softly.
"We can start slow." The brunette was unsure as to why Quinn was adverse to the massage device, but was fully willing to give the blonde a back massage with her hands if it made her more comfortable. All Quinn heard, however, was that they'd have sex without the toys first. So she nodded shyly and ignored how lightheaded she felt as best she could. "How about we enjoy the party for a little and then we can go up to my room?" Again, all Quinn could do was nod demurely. "Excellent."