Title: Someone I've Been Missing (The Better Half of Me)

Pairing: Quinn Fabray/Rachel Berry

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

Summary: AU/Future fic. Quinn, a rising sophomore in college, meets Rachel for the first time just before the school term begins. An argument between them leaves Rachel wanting nothing more than to forget that Quinn even exists. But she soon finds out that she can't get rid of the determined blonde that easily.

A/N 1: I thought I was done writing Faberry, but they're just such a dynamic pairing. This fic is just a compilation of any and all fluffy ideas I have about them. But I promise there's a plot…somewhere.

A/N 2: I will be doing my best to update this weekly. Classes should be over within the next two months so I'll be able to devote more time to this.

A/N 3: I really hope you guys like it! Um, I like reviews and feedback and if you have any questions or concerns then you can shoot me a message. I don't bite, I promise.


In Quinn Fabray's opinion, there's nothing worse than having to show up at school three weeks early to be put through six hours of cheering conditioning a day just to make sure everyone's whipped back into shape by the time school starts. She'd thought that once she left high school that she'd finally be rid of strict practice schedules and a no nonsense coach, but she was wrong. Her current coach, the number one coach on the east coast, Sue Sylvester, was nothing like the coach she had in high school. In fact, she was worse.

"Well, that was just repugnant," Sue barks into her megaphone, glaring at her cheerleaders. "Q! I didn't make you top dog in this squad just for you to turn it to atrophy like your muscles after summer break!"

She hears a snicker from her left and Quinn turns around to glare at her best friend and roommate, Santana Lopez. "That's why I should have been captain," she mutters so only Quinn can hear, smirking in her direction.

"Maybe if you didn't spend your whole summer fucking everything that moved you wouldn't have tanked during your try out for the spot," Quinn instantly fires back. Santana inclines her head in the blonde's direction as if to say "Touché" before turning back to their coach.

Quinn makes sure to wipe the grin off her face as she turns back to coach Sylvester, sprinting off the field when they're finally released for showers.

Before they even get through the threshold of the locker room both girls are swept up into a huge hug that borders on painful in Quinn's opinion.

"San! Q! I'm so glad you see you guys again!" Brittany gushes as she releases the two girls.

Santana reaches up to peck the girl lightly on the lips. "Missed you too, B. Where were you anyway?"

Brittany links their pinkies together and smiles adoringly at Santana. "I couldn't practice today because coach said so. I had to go get physical with the doctor to be able to be on the squad this year."

Quinn turns toward her locker before opening it, trying not to laugh at the dubious expression on Santana's face but failing miserably. Earning her a glare.

She turns back to Brittany, looking a little confused. "You mean you had to get a physical and not get physical, right, Brit-Brit?"

"Sure okay," Brittany says a shrug, not really noticing a difference between the two phrases. "Come on, San, let's take a shower!" she says excitedly.

Santana smirks at the blonde before giving Quinn a pat on the shoulder. "Later, loser. Brits and I gots to get our mack on."

Quinn shakes her head in disbelief as she watches her two friends run toward the showers, their giggling only dying down once they're out of sight.

She closes her locker and opts out of taking a shower in the locker room, preferring to use the showers in her dorm hall, complete with less moaning.

Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she walks out of the locker room, treading tiredly back to her dorm. The long hours that she spends cheering genuinely annoy her, but Quinn has always had an affinity towards the sport. Whether she likes the physical challenge, the short skirts that catch the attention the guys and the girls, or whether she just simply likes the power trip of being in charge, Quinn isn't sure. But she's sure that she likes cheering.

"Hi, Quinn," a shy voice calls to her and Quinn breaks out of her thoughts of a relaxing shower to look at whoever greeted her.

She smiles slyly before giving the brunette a leisurely wave. "Hi, Ashley," she purrs in return. She and Ashley have hooked up a couple of times, not that anyone would know that because Quinn keeps her trysts with anyone in the school private. They're casual, but always private. No one knows about what she does behind closed doors and she keeps it that way. Her smile broadens as she walks away from the girl, feeling her eyes on her ass as she gives an extra sway to her hips, the pleats on her cheerleading skirt swishing back and forth. Yes, being a cheerleader has its perks.

But it's been an uphill battle for her to balance Cheerios, the squad's name, and school. In high school, balancing being a cheerleader and a scholar in school was seen as an accomplishment. But here, in college, you were either fully committed to the books and didn't play a sport, opting for theater or something else artsy as an extracurricular, or you were in the jock archetype and didn't do well in school at all, simply passing along with mediocre grades to be able to play in the next big game.

Quinn, however, did both. And she did it well. Balancing a near 4.0 GPA and the Cheerios squad placed Quinn in a category all her own. She was a jock yes, but she was also studious, proving to professors and judgemental peers alike that jocks were more than capable of passing college courses with grades that were better than simply mediocre.

"Ow, fuck!" she exclaims, body propelling backwards from the momentum of bumping into someone. She silently chastises herself for not paying attention.

"Sorry," the girl she's hit mutters before giving a loud huff, crouching on the ground to retrieve her fallen items.

"It's okay," Quinn murmurs distractedly, wondering who the girl is. Normally if this were to happen on this side of campus, the sophomore dorms where Quinn has more clout, the offender would be apologizing profusely to Quinn, practically begging for forgiveness.

"You must be new," Quinn says a little louder before bending down and picking up one of the girl's books. She rocks back on her heels to stand up right at the same time the girl does. She's unrecognizable. Quinn takes in the girl's incredibly short stature, long dark brown hair, strong, high cheekbones, full pink lips, and dark eyes that barely contain the girl's annoyance. Quinn tilts her head a little. The girl is beautiful…but utterly unrecognizable. And her outfit isn't particularly fashionable but Quinn approves of the short skirt.

"No, I'm not actually," she replies, making a show of holding her hand out and waiting for Quinn to hand the book back.

"So then you know who I am," Quinn states, forgetting about the book in her hands. She lets it fall to her side, more concerned about the beauty in front of her that doesn't seem to give a damn about who she is.

The girl blows out a quick stream of air in exasperation before gracefully placing a lose lock of hair behind her ear. Quinn watches her every move with piercing eyes. "I do not know who you are," she states evenly. "And please forgive my rudeness but at the moment I do not care to. I'm late for an appointment that simply cannot wait. So if you would kindly hand me that book in your hand I can be on my way."

Quinn's eyes widen at the girl's boldness, her almost crash way of handling her without seemingly a care in the world. She wants to be angry, but she can't find it in herself to be. She is, however, a little annoyed.

"Are you a sophomore?" she questions, looking around to make sure, yep, this is definitely the part of campus where sophomores are housed. And Quinn isn't so full of herself to think that everyone on campus should be able to put her name with her face, but the sophomores sure can. All of them.

"Junior," the girl replies flatly. "Now, if you'd please…" she trails off, eyes falling from Quinn's own to the book she has in her hand.

She switches the book from her right hand to her left, chuckling inwardly at the girl's sigh of annoyance before extending her now unoccupied hand. "I'm Quinn Fabray," she replies.

Brown eyes stare at her hand curiously before giving it a quick shake. "I would say it's a pleasure meeting you, Quinn, but you seem arrogant, presumptuous, and a tad annoying," the girl says honestly as she releases her hold on Quinn's hand.

Her eyes narrow as she snorts indelicately at the barrage of insults from that single statement. "Isn't it presumptuous to assume all of those things about me? I mean, this is our first time meeting and let's be honest; you haven't exactly been the poster child for great manners either."

"Yes, perhaps I should apologize," she muses without actually verbalizing an apology. "But you see I'd already told you what –five whole minutes ago that I was late. I also told you that I do not like being late under any circumstances. And instead of handing me my book so that I could be on my way, you started a meaningless conversation with me because your ego took a hit because of the simple fact that I have no idea who you are."

"What are you doing here anyway?" Quinn asks rudely.

"I have a friend that lives in these dorms," she responds a little too haughtily for Quinn's taste.

She arches a perfect eyebrow as she regards the shorter girl. "So you have a friend that lives in these dorms, but you don't know me?" she asks doubtfully. "All of the sophomores know me."

"And?" she asks with a shrug. "You act as if every conversation a sophomore would have is just dripping with the words 'Quinn Fabray'. Not everything is about you apparently because I for one have never heard of you before this terrible encounter."

Quinn is beside herself, gritting her teeth in sheer annoyance at the audacity of the girl in front of her. How dare she talk to her that way? "You know what?" she growls. "Take your book." She practically shoves it in the girl's direction and it's plucked from her hand without a single word.

Without another glance, the girl walks past Quinn, grumbling about how late she is for her appointment.

"Wait," Quinn calls as she spins around to face the girl.

Her shoulders tense and Quinn watches with no small amount of amusement how the hand not curled protectively around her books tightens into a fist. She's glad that this annoying girl is as irritated as she is.

Quinn steps a little closer to get privacy, glad that the campus is nearly empty since the school term hasn't officially started yet. "I didn't get your name," she says, feigning disinterest.

A loud, boisterous laugh from the shorter girl startles Quinn into taking a few steps back. She folds her arms tightly across her chest and cocks her hip to the side, wondering just what the hell is so funny.

The girl wipes a tear from her eye, staring at Quinn with a smile. "Not everyone likes to be so well known like you do, Fabray," she says snippily. "Just call me anonymous."

She spins on her heel and walks away without a backwards glance and Quinn's left wondering if she feels more angry…or intrigued.


"Brit's staying over tonight," Santana says around a mouthful of potato chips. She flips through channels on their TV before hoisting her legs up on the table, sinking back into the couch.

Quinn walks into their common space with a frown on her face. "You give a new meaning to the term couch potato," she quips, not commenting on the Brittany staying over thing because they've both had their fair share of company over. It's nothing new to them anymore. The fact that Santana mentioned it is simply for Quinn to be prepared for if she wakes up at three in the morning to go to the restroom and sees Brittany sleep walking…naked.

"Keep it up and I'll give a new meaning to the term man-slaughter," Santana says dryly from her spot on the couch.

Quinn flops down on the other couch, watching TV but not really paying attention as her thoughts drift back to that girl she met outside the dorms. It still makes Quinn's blood boil, even after she took a shower to calm herself down and took a nap right afterwards. The insulting remarks that fell from the girl's lips, and Quinn admits, they were pretty lips. Pink, and pouting. And Quinn recalls with amusement that at one point the girl really was pouting because of how annoyed she had been with Quinn. But still, Quinn didn't really appreciate what was said to her and how it was said.

"Do you think I'm arrogant?" she asks, removing her eyes from the TV screen to look at Santana.

Santana guffaws, nearly choking on a potato chip that sends Quinn into a fit of giggles. "Not only are you arrogant," Santana grips. "You're annoying, pig headed, over bearing–"

"I'm serious."

"No, you're not arrogant." Santana rolls her eyes. She hates having to placate Quinn because that always means she has to show feelings which she doesn't particularly like to do. "Where's all this coming from? A few hours ago you were all up in my grill about how I didn't make captain because I was fucking too many people to even concentrate on being ready to try out. Which, by the way, you were eating slut's pussy over the summer too so I don't even want to hear that again."

Quinn blushes all the way up to her hairline and the tips of her ears at the obscene comment., coughing into her hand to avoid how awkward she felt. "They weren't sluts," she mutters.

"What-the-fuck-ever. Point is, I wasn't the only one getting busy," she says to make her point. "Now anyway, back to the matter at hand. What the hell has you all in your feelings?" she coos in a way she knows embarrasses Quinn. "Who made big bad Quinn feel all bad about herself?"

Quinn blushes even harder at how ridiculous that whole situation sounds coming from Santana's mouth in that tone of voice. "Nothing, it's stupid. I just…there was a junior outside the dorms and she called me arrogant. Among other things," she grumbles the last part.

Santana snickers at the disgruntled look on Quinn's face. "Why would she do that?" she questions, dying to know how and why this mystery woman told Quinn off.

Quinn scowls at her friend's obvious enjoyment out of what Quinn can officially call the worst eight minutes of her life before continuing. "Well, I ran into her outside the dorms and we got to talking and she told me she didn't know who I was. So then–"

"Let me guess," Santana drawls. "You got all bitchy with her because she didn't know who you were."

Quinn nods.

"But she surprised you," she continues, "with some bitchiness of her own. So the two of you met in a battle of wills. Two bitchy bitches bitching each other out," she finishes with a laugh.

She sighs at how stupid it now sounds, hanging her head in defeat. "That's pretty much how it happened," she mutters.

"Face it, Q," Santana says from her spot on the couch. "You met your match and now you're in here sulking because instead of being the kiss ass you were expecting, she put you back in your place faster than your own mother could."

"I just…she didn't have to be such a bitch."

"And why not?" Santana asks. "You were being a bitch."

"I wasn't–"

"Quinn, I know you. I'm pretty sure that you were giving her attitude."

Rubbing the back of her neck, she sinks back into her seat. "Should I apologize?"

Santana snorts out a laugh at the very idea. "Don't you dare. Seriously, I'll make fun of you forever if you do that. Just let it go. This is a big school and on top of that she's a junior. I really don't think you'll see her very much again. I mean, you didn't even know she existed until today, right?"

"Yeah."

"And she clearly didn't know you existed until a few hours ago," she snarkily replies, watching Quinn sink further into her seat. "So, no big deal. Let it go. And make me a sandwich."

Quinn leaps up out of her seat, nodding at Santana's advice before she heads toward the door.

"Hey," Santana calls loudly after her. "I said make me a sandwich!"

"I'm not your bitch!" Quinn calls just as loudly as she makes it to the door.

"Where are you going anyway?" Santana asks with a raised eyebrow.

Quinn smiles slyly at her before opening the door. "Ashley's," she says to her before walking out.


For the first time in her life, Quinn can say that Santana was right. It had been three weeks and she hadn't seen the brunette that she ran into at all. It was both relieving and a little unnerving. It was as if the Heavens opened up and dropped the girl down for that one blindingly irritating instant before the earth swallowed her whole. Quinn knew she was being irrational. As Santana said, it was a big school and the girl was a junior. The chance of the two of them crossing paths again was slim to none. But still…

"'Sup, hottie," she hears growled into her ear as her eyes are covered by two large hands. Quinn would normally be alarmed but the voice was too familiar and could only belong to one person.

"What, Puck?" she demands and the boy in question sucks his teeth at being caught before sitting in front of her. They're in the dining hall, in the section that clearly belongs to jocks as Quinn looks around to see large, defined muscles of the football and basketball players peppered in with the lithe, flexible bodies of the cheerleaders.

He plops down in the seat in front of her before taking his burger out of its wrapper. "Nothing much," he says before taking a bite that leaves him with only half a burger. "Just saying hi to my future baby mama."

She smirks at him, her eyes smoldering and she knows by the look on his face that his pants are already getting tighter. "You're not my type." He coughs out the remainder of his food and Quinn giggles a little before sliding out of her seat.

"Hold on, gorgeous," Puck calls to her before she walks away. She turns back around to look at him. "Party tonight. I got the booze."

She bites her lip in contemplation before releasing it with a smile. "See you later," she says as she walks away.

She passes by Santana and Brittany as they walk over to the table, glaring back at Santana after receiving a particularly hard slap on the ass.

Finding her target, Quinn closes in on a studious looking brunette, sitting by herself at a table. "Chloe," she says warmly.

Said girl looks up at her, removing the glasses from her face with a smile. "Quinn."

She leans forward, blonde hair falling alluringly around her shoulders as she smiles at the girl. "How would you like to go to a party with me tonight?" she asks, staring intently at the girl.

Chloe blushes at the blonde before diverting her eyes. "You know I don't do parties, Quinn."

"Come on," she coaxes gently. "It'll be a good way to unwind before the stress of the semester rolls around in just a mere three days."

Her eyes watch Chloe intently as she brunette mulls over the idea. She nods with a smile a moment later and Quinn internally smirks at her victory. "Okay, Quinn."

"Thanks, sweetie," Quinn says in a sugar coated voice before walking off, leaving the other girl a blushing mess at the table. She's determined to blow off some steam before school starts.