Disclaimer: Unfortunately the characters do not belong to me, I'm just borrowing them for fun.
Author's Note: This is pretty much crack from start to finish. If it wasn't obvious, I shamelessly stole the idea from an episode of Sabrina the Teenage Witch (don't judge) and ran with it. I would also say that hints of Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered (from the Buffyverse) are scattered about in there, too.


She was honoured at first.

The Glee Club dynamic had changed a lot in the past six months, more subtle glances and hushed conversation when she walked into the room, more coincidences in the hallway that left Azimio and Karofsky hurling slushies at themselves rather than her. It was all too bizarre.

It simply wasn't in her nature to elude a confrontation with her teammates but the explanation Tina gave sent Rachel's cheek to the cool tiles of the floor. All this time Tina had been lying to her. All of her teammates had. All this time she'd attributed every one of their triumphs to either her own or the entire team's effort and talent. It seemed that hadn't been the case for every incident as, she came to learn, Tina Cohen-Chang was none other than a newly-called witch.

As soon as she found out that she was the last member of the Glee Club to find out, Rachel had expressed outrage and threw a hissy fit, astounded and overcome with betrayal. She'd had to sing it out, much to the dismay of her teammates.

The only thing she understood by the end of the day was that they'd won their competitions fair and square. Tina had rules to follow and breaking them wouldn't be in her best interest. Tina did admit to allowing Kurt and Mercedes talk her into putting a confidence spell on everyone before each competition, excluding Rachel. She was never nervous. And sometimes before a competition she would use her powers to hide Rachel's iPod so that she would be forced to listen to the radio with the rest of them instead of drowning out every conversation in a five-mile radius with her powerhouse voice. Of course there had also been a few conjuring spells along the way but who wouldn't result to magic when they were craving red vines and nowhere near a store? Tina had to make sure she shared to get around the personal gain aspect but that wasn't a problem when she had half of her body weight of vines suddenly appear on the spare seat next to her.

The appeal hadn't quite worn off for Rachel, how could it? One of her best friends could do almost anything she asked her. When she was having a bad hair or skin day, one mention of it to Tina had Rachel looking flawless. Well, except for the clothes, and nobody ever saw past those.

Tina refused to conjure up an A+ assignment on demand, although she did correct grammar when she was feeling particularly nice. Sometimes she felt obliged because of the positive reaction from her friends. She knew it wasn't every day that one of your best friends came out of the linen closet as a witch.

It was why she agreed to take Home Economics with Rachel. Tina hated that class with a passion. The cheerleaders took it every year. If it was up to her, she'd turn them all into frogs and leave them to live their lives far, far away where they couldn't bother her anymore.

Brittany Pierce, Santana Lopez and Quinn Fabray always took the back station where they had an extra four feet of space and could use their cell phones or throw food without being caught. It infuriated Tina when she knew she could do something about it. If she really wanted to she could silence them forever. But no, she had to pretend like she couldn't, like even the smallest of inconveniences weren't making her study her spell book that much harder at night. She and Rachel should be the students at the back of the class instead of forced to use the incommodious stations where they could barely move around with a tray of muffins or the Bundt cake they were baking tomorrow morning.

In the end, she couldn't take it anymore. Tina growled out some frustration. Whoever baked when they were stressed needed a CAT scan. Unless they were the other kind of baked, then maybe she could come to an understanding.

Miss Pillsbury, the stand-in Home Economics teacher stood with a napkin, preparing a demonstration. "Now the use of the cloth napkin exploded in the early nineteenth century and since there was no TV, napkin folding became a popular art form. Let's start with the bishop's mitre."

"Why do we have to learn this?" Tina whined.

Rachel shrugged. "In case our cable, internet and Tivo go out?"

Brittany, Santana and Quinn all sniggered loudly at the back of the class.

"I think Quinn and her friends are laughing at us again."

"No they're not. Don't be so paranoid."

"Paranoid? They're pointing at us and laughing!"

Rachel glanced down in preparation and then looked behind her for confirmation. She got it. Her eyes locked with Quinn's and the area around her faded away until all she could see was Quinn in her perfect, blonde glory. She would have been awestruck if that hadn't happened a thousand times already. Her crush on Quinn had been relentless for the better part of three years.

Tina clicked her fingers in front of Rachel's face but it was Quinn's barked, "What?" that cut through her haze of lust.

"Oh, you're right," she said to Tina. "Well, just ignore them."

Mike approached the girls with some shyness. He couldn't make the bishops mitre and asked Rachel for some help. It was his chance to talk to Tina and begin a conversation on Coach Beiste's insistence that he bulked up for football. He asked if she and Rachel (he couldn't be too obvious) wanted to join him at Breadsticks tomorrow night to watch him force down eight slices of pizza.

Quinn looked away from the back of Rachel's head and chose to ignore the unsubtle look of desire shared between Brittany and Santana as their fingers grazed. She thought them denying their obvious affection for each other to be the most ridiculous thing this side of One Tree Hill being renewed again.

She sighed when her napkin flipped open for the seventh or eighth time. She couldn't make the bishop's mitre no matter how much she tried. Admittedly, it wasn't very hard. She didn't even like to cook. There was only one reason she took the class and that wasn't at Brittany and Santana's behest.

Tina waved to Kurt and Mercedes as they passed.

"Do you want to come to the community theatre with me on next week? They're doing an open mic night with songs dedicated to the Broadway catalogue. It might be fun, especially if you rig it for me to win," Rachel joked, standing with Tina at her locker.

"I'd rig it for me to win," Tina laughed. She saw Mike in the distance. "Or Mike. I want Mike to win all the awards."

"He's dancer, not a singer."

"I'd still rig it." She made a sound of annoyance at the sight of Santana and Quinn. "Oh, look, here comes our fan club."

Sauntering past, Quinn gave Rachel a sideways glance. "Hey, Tina. Hey, Rachel," she mocked, falling into Santana with an immature —and returned— giggle.

Rachel flew off the locker she'd been leaning against and squared up to them. Three years of praying for Quinn to notice her wasn't exactly having the outcome she'd hoped for. "Is there a joke you'd like to share?"

"You are the joke," Quinn retorted.

"Why don't you just leave us alone? We're not bothering you."

She looked down to Rachel, making sure to hold their shared eye-contact. "You're still breathing, aren't you?" she asked with an arrogant smirk, laughing as soon as Santana did. "Freak," she added on, directed towards Rachel, and then Tina. "Double freak."

Quinn and Santana left cackling.

"We can't let her get to us!" Rachel exclaimed, slamming Tina's locker shut. "That's exactly what she wants. I just wish I knew what she was saying behind my back."

"What difference does it make?" Tina asked dejectedly. "Everything Quinn says is a lie."

"Maybe not everything. If I could get inside her head, I'd know what I do to annoy her so much."

"Why, so you could be a hundred times more insecure than you already are?"

"I want to understand why she's like that with me."

"People like Quinn always going to hate us for no good reason, Rachel. The sooner you realise that, the easier it's going to be."

"But I know she's not really like that."

Tina rubbed Rachel's shoulder in a show of comfort and made sure to speak softly. "I know how you feel about her Rachel, but she's never going to change. This is who she is."

"It's not," she rebuffed. "Oh, if only there was some way to make her tell the truth!" she griped with a stomp of her foot.

"Like what?" Tina laughed. "Slipping the truth sprinkles I made last week into a Bundt cake tomorrow?" she suggested as an off-handed remark. Tina saw the dangerous glint in Rachel's eyes, a look of serious consideration adorning her previously miserable features.

"You are a genius, Tina Cohen-Chang!"

"Rachel, no!"

"But Tina, this is perfect!"

"I told you about my powers in confidence. You can't mess with people's minds like that. It's not right."

"Neither is the way they walk around this school making people's lives a misery; mine included." She lowered her voice. "Please? You know how I feel about her. If I could get her to be honest with me for even just a minute..."

Eventually, she sighed. "Fine, but you're not getting any more complexion pills. If you have a zit, you can deal with it like the rest of us."

Rachel nodded eagerly. "I'll never ask again."

Somehow Tina didn't quite believe her.

The plan was foolproof. She and Tina would cut a large slice of their Bundt cake and decorate the top with a few randomly sprinkled sprinkles. No-one in their right mind would say no to a free piece of chocolate cake.

Rachel smiled proudly at the large slice of cake as she made her way over to Brittany, Santana and Quinn. It wouldn't be long until she was having a heartfelt discussion with Quinn, discussing their feelings and the moment they fell for each other.

She smiled politely.

"What do you want?" Quinn asked flatly.

"How's your cake?" As if on cue, Brittany and Santana dropped their forks and raced to the nearest sink to spit it out. She held the slice of perfectly-cooked cake higher in the air, more in the blonde's line of sight. "Would you like some of mine?"

The pink sprinkles added a lovely touch.

"No."

"It's not poisoned."

"I don't care, get it out of my face," Quinn demanded, giving Rachel a loathsome look. "And buy a mirror. That sweater is ridiculous."

Rachel walked away, dismayed. She went back to her station and slumped down against the counter with nothing but Tina's hand on her back as comfort. She looked at the cake with disdain, because how hard was it to get a girl to eat a bite of chocolate cake? It wasn't like she'd been talking to an Olsen twin.

"Tina, can I talk to you for a sec?" Mike asked, suddenly appearing beside her.

When she left, Rachel rifled through the front of Tina's bag in pure misery. She pulled out a tube and turned it over in her hands, looking at it with eyes full of curiosity. They were rainbow sprinkles; wonderfully bright and every bit as colourful as anything she could never remember seeing.

Tina must have gone overboard with the colouring in the recipe. Without much thought, Rachel opened and tipped the tube, shaking it all over the large slice of cake in front of her. Exceptionally vibrant colours of orange, red, green, blue yellow, red, white and brown toppled out and covered every bit of chocolate on the plate. Rachel used the entire tube and tossed it in the trash when she was finished.

It missed.

One more example of her failure.

The bell rang and Rachel, Tina and Mike were the first three out of the door.

Almost the entire Glee Club sat down for lunch nearing fifteen minutes later. Rachel, Tina, Mike, Kurt, Mercedes, Matt and Artie always sat together. The other three members (two girls, one boy) rarely sat with them, immersed with their boyfriends and girlfriends respectively. They were there to make up the numbers and they knew it.

Puck was out with stomach flu.

Tina sat down next to Mike with a shy smile. Rachel spotted it and her lip curled. How dare Mike and Tina flaunt their obviously mutual attraction in front of her? Had they no shame when she was painfully single and clearly pining over a girl who will never give her the time of the day?

Tina frowned when she searched through her bag and noticed something wrong.

"Rachel, where are the other sprinkles?"

"What other sprinkles?"

"The rainbow sprinkles."

"I used them."

Tina gasped, horrified. "What? When?"

Rachel shrugged, her elbow propped on the table as she gazed at Quinn sitting five tables away. God, she looked beautiful. "I put them on our piece of cake."

"Rachel, this is serious, did anyone eat it?"

"I don't know. I left it in class. Why?"

"Because they're gay sprinkles!" Tina hissed. The mouths of their fellow glee clubbers fell open in astonishment. "You add a pinch of them to either pink or blue sprinkles to make girls or guys express their innermost homosexual desires!"

It wasn't any weirder than when she ate a bag of cursed Butterfingers. Excluding all the high notes, Rachel had dropped everything she attempted to hold for twenty-four hours. It was just a shame that she'd found out after picking up her newborn cousin.

"I don't think anyone would have had any. I mean, there's nothing out of the ordinary," Rachel said, glancing around the cafeteria. She focused her attention on Brittany, Santana and Quinn as they were the first people she thought of when she thought of Home Economics. Quinn was glaring at her and Rachel's chest throbbed painfully. "Everything's the same."

And it was, until there was a clattering of trays and Brittany and Santana suddenly jumped each other, tearing at each other's clothes as they climbed up on the table and started to kiss feverishly.

With a blink of an eye, Quinn's eyes turned predatory.

"Oh, no," Tina gasped.

"Yes!" Rachel cheered, her arm shooting up in the air. Quinn's breathing looked like it was picking up the longer she stared at Rachel. "Uh, Tina, what happens when someone ingests more than the recommended dosage?" she asked, merely curious.

"What always happens: they overdose!" She cradled her head in her hands. "This isn't happening. This can't be happening. I don't know how to counteract the effects!"

Rachel straightened her back and fixed her hair, smiling shyly in Quinn's direction. "How long do they last for?"

"There's no telling anymore!"

Rachel frowned at the lack of support from her teammates. They knew she'd wanted this for years. "Very well, I'll just have to take this a minute at a time and enjoy what is left." Maybe she would get a long cuddle.

Quinn bit down on her bottom lip.

Or maybe she'd get a lot more than that.

Loud cheers broke out when they swiped the table clean and Santana tore Brittany's top off her torso, showering her chest with kisses with her knees either side of her hips as they strained to get closer to one another.

Quinn rose to her feet slowly, eyes never leaving Rachel, who had begun to blush under such an intense gaze of desire. She'd never seen anyone look at her that way before. It felt incredible.

"Rachel, I think you should run," Artie advised.

"Are you out of your tiny mind?"

"T-t-trust me," Tina warned urgently. "She's not going to stop until the effects wear off. I'm going to have to call my aunts and see if they know how long it will last or what will break the curse."

Kurt rolled his eyes, annoyed that none of the football players had snuck a bite of the gayest cake in all the land. Whatever. Tina could make him one with blue and rainbow sprinkles next week as a birthday gift. At least one of them had to be playing for his team. Kurt pulled his keys from his pocket and held them up to Rachel. "Take my car and go home. If you scratch it, expect me to scratch an eye out."

Rachel stood from her seat and backed away slowly when she saw Quinn gaining on her. She could feel her heart beating faster. "Quinn, you hate me, right?"

Quinn practically moaned at the sound of her voice. "I could never hate you."

"You're under a spell," Rachel appealed to her. "Think about it; those sprinkles on that piece of cake? They're making you do this. All you want to do is tell me why you're so mean to me."

Artie and Mercedes sat wide-eyed, not daring to speak. Puck would probably cry for the next six months that he'd skipped school. Mike was stunned into silence.

Finn had been off school for three days due to a stomach bug, so when he saw Rachel for the first time since being back he headed right over to her, hugging her from behind. His long arms wrapped around his friend's body effortlessly, a wide grin on his lips. "I missed you, Rach."

Any trace of desire left Quinn's eyes, replaced with fury. She picked up Artie's lunch tray and emptied the contents on the table, turning it around in her hands.

Rachel saw the look in Matt's eyes. Quinn was behind them. "Finn, I think you should leave. Immediately."

"Why? I thought we could have lunch together. Catch up, you know?"

"Get away from her," Quinn demanded coldly. "Right now."

Brittany and Santana moaned loudly, in unison.

Finn removed his arms from around her and turned to look down at Quinn. He was met with a violent swing to the face; the plastic lunch tray slamming against his cheek sent him stumbling down to the floor.

Rachel stood over him with a gaping mouth.

"Quinn, that was assault!"

Tina swallowed thickly. "Quinn, d-d-don't make me do something I'll regret." She had three spells in her head, ready to recite any one of them should she be forced to.

Quinn's forehead connected with Tina's with a sickening crack, sending the shorter girl unconscious. She fell face-first into her spaghetti, leaving Kurt and Mercedes to reach out for her.

"Rachel," Quinn breathed, almost in awe of her beauty and the sex appeal coming off her in waves. Her knees were weak. "Come here."

"No, stay back!" she shrieked hysterically. She never thought she'd say that to Quinn. Ever. Rachel retrieved the lunch tray for protection, holding it in front of herself as she backed away.

She might as well have offered a hand to Quinn, because she took it as an invitation to reach out and yank on it, tugging Rachel towards her.

Quinn moaned when Rachel's body was pressed almost full length against hers. She licked her lips and leaned in without preamble, attaching them to Rachel's neck within the second in a long, wet kiss that made Rachel's eyes roll back in her head.

In the hardest decision she'd ever had to make, Rachel pushed Quinn away and ran like her life depended on it; like a serial killer was calmly walking after her. Only it was Quinn, and she didn't want to kill her, she wanted to rip her clothes off and have her way with her.

She stopped in the middle of the hallway, conflicted. Why was she running away? This was all she'd ever wanted. The Rachel remembered that she wanted it to happen because they both wanted it, not because one of them was under the influence of magic.

Mr. Schuester left the teacher's lounge with impeccable timing. He wiped the remnants of his lunch from around his mouth with a napkin and looked up in alarm at the sight of a dishevelled Rachel Berry panting not ten feet away. He walked over, placing a large hand upon her shoulder in concern.

"What is it, Rachel?" he asked gently.

But she couldn't trust her voice to come out as anything more than a whisper because she had found them.

Will turned around when he heard the sound of heels gaining closer. He perked up in surprise. "Quinn, what a surprise! Have you changed your mind on joining Glee Club, because I think you'd be a wonderful addition to the team—"

"Back off, bitch." Quinn's voice came out menacing, sounding otherworldly in ferocity.

Positive of bloodshed, Rachel squeaked, "No."

And then she engaged in the easiest mode a human could; flight. Rachel left Will and raced through the halls of McKinley, bursting through the doors. She hurried over to Kurt's car parked at the front of the lot and scrambled inside. She dropped the keys when there was a loud bang on the window.

"Open the door!" Quinn ordered.

"You're not yourself!" Rachel yelled. "You don't want this."

"I want you more than I've ever wanted anything. I would give up air, food and water for you."

Oh, God.

"This is insane!" Rachel's voice came out shrill. "You hate me, you can't stand me!"

"I worship you." She pulled on the handle, getting more violent each time. "Why won't you let me in?"

"Because you look like the wolf from Little Red Riding Hood and I'll be damned if I let you eat me!" Rachel saw a smirk on Quinn's lips. "That's not what I meant, you pervert! This is happening too fast, I just wanted to know how you felt."

"Open the door and let me show you."

Her hands finally stopped shaking enough for her to put the key in the ignition and Rachel put her foot to the floor, sending the car screeching away from Quinn and careening towards the exit, leaving her behind. But for how long?

She was sure she broke speed laws on the way home but she didn't care. Teleportation wouldn't have been fast enough. Why couldn't Tina have had a backup plan? What kind of self-respecting witch got herself knocked out by a horny cheerleader in front of the entire cafeteria? How was she supposed to protect herself now?

The doors and windows were locked and Rachel was hastily pulling the curtains shut in the living room. She needed to call her neighbours and explain that she had a stalker and not to let her use the spare key two of them had. They might do something stupid like let Quinn inside the house.

Thankfully her fathers were visiting their friends in Seattle for a few days, so she was free to panic alone.

"Rachel."

"Quinn!" Rachel backed up. Her heart hammered inside her chest like it always did when she was around, yet it held a different quality this time around. She didn't know if it was fear or a subconscious kind of excitement that Quinn was finally looking at her the way she'd dreamed of for years. "How-how did you get in?"

"Your dads leave a spare key underneath the welcome mat."

"How did you know that?"

"I drive past sometimes to see if I can see you. Not in a stalker way, I just like to admire you from afar without your knowledge or permission."

"Why?"

"Because I think about you all the time, and now we're alone." Quinn stripped off her short cardigan and pulled her hair down until it was flowing over her shoulders. She exhaled with heaviness to it, stepping closer to the brunette who was considering meeting Quinn half way or jumping out of the window.

Rachel settled for dodging her, darting to the other side of the sofa where Quinn stood. "I-I have to be honest with you, Quinn, while this attention from you is very much appreciated and, to a degree, returned with full force, I'm not sure this is the right time to engage in anything physical. You see, you're under the influence of gay sprinkles," she revealed solemnly.

Quinn looked at Rachel's mouth as she spoke, wetting her own lips.

"Tina Cohen-Chang is a witch and all of this is your body's reaction to an overdose. None of it is real. If you'll excuse the pun, I'm certainly not trying not to mince my words, but I was trying to get you to be honest with me. You a-a-and Brittany and Santana, you're always so mean to me. You especially, and usually after I've caught you staring at me. I just wanted to know why."

"Because I want you. I crave you every single day. When we fight, god, I just want to grab you and make you scream." She climbed over the sofa and grabbed a stunned Rachel, wrenching her forward until she could crush their lips together. It made Quinn's head spin.

Rachel thought her skeleton had been pulled from her body. She held the side of her head and returned the kiss keenly, for a good twenty seconds.

"Wait! This is wrong. You're going to snap out of this soon and press charges. I can't afford a criminal section to my autobiography until my late twenties when I have my mental breakdown." She held her at arm's length. "Just tell me, honestly, do we have a shot at being friends?"

"No," Quinn said. "I want to marry you and have your babies."

"Come again?" Rachel blinked.

"I need to have sex with you, right now," Quinn declared unabashedly.

"Quinn!"

"I'm just being honest."

Rachel managed to get free. She shot to another part of the living room, separated by a table and a decorative lamp her fathers never used. She was followed by a lustful gaze the entire time.

Quinn was staring at her sweater. "I can't wait to tear that off."

"This was a present from my grandfather!"

"It's sexy," she admitted. "But it has to be burned."

"You take that back!"

"Never. Now, come here and let me fu—"

Rachel hurled the lamp at her, narrowly missing her head. She gasped at once, covering her mouth. "I'm so sorry! I was trying to snap you out of it."

"A beast has awoken."

Beast?

Quinn watched her race to the kitchen and slam the door in her face, turning the lock once. She beat against it, thumping and screaming until she took in a deep breath and calmly kicked the door wide open.

Rachel was standing in a circle of salt with her eyes closed.

"Regna terrae, cantate Deo, psallite Domino qui fertis super caelum caeli ad Orientem. Ecce dabit voci Suae vocem virtutis, tribuite virtutem Deo. Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica."

Quinn stripped off her top as soon as Rachel finished the second verse of her exorcism, easily stepping inside the sacred ring. She crashed into her, shoving her against the kitchen counter. "Shut up," she growled.

"Oh, God," Rachel gulped when she felt the bare skin of her back. This was too much temptation. Her fingers shook with the need to explore.

It was a battle of wills.

Pressed tight up against her, Quinn inhaled the scent of Rachel's hair as her hands slipped underneath her hideous sweater to roam freely over soft, smooth skin. She moaned softly, causing Rachel's legs to give way; essentially a ragdoll in her arms.

Quinn held her up, arms wrapped securely around her waist, head dipped down to lick Rachel's neck and finish it with a kiss and the scrape of her teeth. This was it. This was the heaven described to her for so many years. Belinda Carlisle was right, heaven was on earth. It was Rachel Berry.

"You are so beautiful," Quinn breathed out, covering the brunette's mouth soon after. "And mine," she stated possessively. "All mine."

There was minimal activity in the far corner of Rachel's mind, something telling her this was still very, very wrong. She kissed her back, unable to stop it.

Quinn bit down on her lip. "Sing for me," she whispered against her mouth. "It really turns me on."

"I will not," Rachel refused heatedly, snapping out of her trance. She had to get away from her. She would be able to think more clearly when Quinn wasn't pressed against her.

"Then I'll make you."

"Oh, really? And how are you going to do that?" she challenged petulantly. Rachel's eyes widened several seconds later, her hand shooting down to Quinn's wrist to prevent any more movement. "I encourage you to think about this rationally," she pleaded.

"I have. I think about this every single day at school. When I call you a freak, I'm a second away from pushing you against the nearest locker."

Rachel suddenly felt jealous. "What about when you call Tina a double freak? What do you think about then?"

"Who?"

"Tina, my friend."

"I know your name, I know my name." Quinn kissed her face. "And I know what I'm naming our children. Now, shut up."

"Let's not be hasty." She made the mistake of licking her dry lips. "We can talk about this."

Quinn pushed Rachel to the floor and climbed on top of her, slowly and deliberately letting her hands travel over her the flawless body beneath her. "You're perfect," she stated, positioning herself over one of Rachel's legs.

Her cell phone rang a few minutes later and Rachel all but flailed underneath Quinn who was concentrating on the mother of all hickeys on her neck. In her movement, she pressed her thigh up to the apex of Quinn's legs, resulting in a lengthy moan from the sex-crazed angel on top of her.

Something twisted inside her own stomach.

"The phone," she muttered, forcing her voice out. "I-it's ringing, I must answer it."

"Voicemail."

She winced at her neck being bitten. "It could be important."

"Voicemail."

Rachel's eyes widened. "It could be Tina!"

"Voicemail."

She slapped at her, wriggling underneath to free herself. She successfully turned Quinn on ten times more than she had been. Rachel rolled on top and kissed the blonde once as a distraction, swiftly scrambling off her to crawl towards the table and reach her phone sitting inside her bag on the chair. She got it, managing to answer the call but accidentally put it on speakerphone. It was just as well.

Rachel's ankle was grabbed and she clawed the tiles as Quinn dragged her backwards.

"Rachel?" Finn's voice boomed. "Are you there? Are you okay? Why was Quinn acting so weird?"

Quinn's mouth left Rachel's with a small smack. Her jaw tightened. "You leave Rachel alone, you son of a bitch! She's mine, do you hear me?"

There was muffled conversation.

"R-r-rachel, it's Tina."

"Tina!" Rachel cried. "Any news?"

"Due to the amount of sprinkles Quinn ingested, the only way to break the curse is for her to orgasm an undisclosed number of times."

"What?"

Quinn smirked.

"Brittany and Santana were suspended but I doubt they even noticed. I fixed that but they left a few minutes ago. Some people are saying they already crashed Santana's car on the way home."

"I'm dreaming," Rachel said, her voice void of emotion.

"And Rachel? You might want to hurry. If Quinn doesn't, you know, at least once before midnight, the effects will never wear off. She'll become consumed, unable to live a normal life. Any life."

When Quinn latched on to her earlobe, Rachel asked, "Can she rub against a doorframe?"

"No! It's important that the...pleasure comes from the girl she loves. You did this, Rachel. Fix it."

The line went dead.

She idly wondered if Tina or her aunts had the power to turn back time to before this all happened, to a time where she would be the one forgiving Quinn each time she was mean. Now it would have to be Quinn forgiving her for essentially forcing her do this.

Rachel looked up to her and brushed some hair away from her face to see her properly, enamoured with Quinn's seeming perfection. She was so beautiful, and suddenly calm. She cupped her cheek, smiling softly when Quinn leaned into her hand. "You're beautiful."

"I've been going about this so wrong," Quinn admitted. "I'm sorry if I scared you."

It took Rachel a second to respond. "You didn't, I was just surprised that you could be so...dominant."

"I'm not usually."

What was Tina talking about? An undisclosed number of orgasms? What tosh. She was already snapping out of it.

"I'll be right back," Quinn continued.

Rachel got back to her feet and fixed her hair when Quinn was gone, cracking her back from when she'd been shoved against the counter. Her phone was switched off and placed on the table where it wasn't likely to be stepped on.

Oh, God, what was she going to say to Quinn when they sat down to talk? Would Quinn remember what she'd done? If not, did she have permission to out Tina like that? Regardless, she would have to. She heard Quinn approaching and turned to greet her.

Rachel thought she'd left to re-dress herself and pick up the article of clothing dropped to her living room carpet. She couldn't have been more wrong.

Before any words could be spoken, Quinn shoved a handful of Bundt cake with sprinkles inside Rachel's mouth and closed her hand around it. She protested loudly, squirming against Quinn, clawing at her hands to no avail. In order to breathe, Rachel was forced to chew through the chocolately, sprinkled mass inside her mouth.

When it was over, Quinn smiled.

"What are you doing?" Rachel demanded, frantically wiping the smeared chocolate and sprinkles from around her lips. They covered her hands. She looked down in terror, absentmindedly biting through the sprinkles still inside her mouth. Her eyes bulged. "You didn't."

"I need you," Quinn proclaimed.

She'd saved the last large bite of the Bundt cake to have with her lunch because it was the most delicious cake she'd had in years. If Rachel had hang-ups about having sex, well, it was her job as a lover to rid her of them as Rachel had done for her, so after she had sped away from her on the parking lot Quinn had made her way back inside the cafeteria to pick up the cake wrapped up in her bag.

Rachel's stomach dropped. "Oh, no, no, no, no," she begged to any higher power, rushing over to the sink to stick her fingers down her throat.

"That won't work."

There was also the fact that she didn't have much of a gag reflex. To settle it, Rachel ran away.

Quinn smirked, shaking her head. "See you in fifteen minutes, baby."

"Over my dead body!"

She was immune to it.

There was no way tiny pieces of confectionary would alter her entire mindset. None whatsoever, Rachel thought, sitting on the floor of her bedroom. She'd thrown the key out of the window as a precaution. If she was to jump out and get it there was a high chance she'd break both of her legs and people just didn't want to have sex when their bones were shattered.

It had been thirteen minutes and she didn't even feel any different. Besides fretting over Quinn (because she hadn't said a word when she'd declared that the key was lost forever and there was no way out of the room now) and how she would get out of that mess, Rachel wasn't seriously concerned over her own well-being. She had an iron will.

She was so sure of herself that she'd moved her elliptical and emptied her bookcase to put against the door. With a seldom-used guitar in her hands as a weapon of last resort, Rachel's eyes remained fixed on the clock ticking away across the room.

She was fine. Nothing had changed. Nothing would.

Quinn was on the floor outside Rachel's bedroom, leaning against the bathroom door with her phone in her hand, keeping a vigil eye on the time.

Fifteen minutes.

She dropped her phone to the carpet, drumming her fingers in anticipation.

Within seconds there were harsh bangs and thumps against the wall and the door. She smiled to herself when the handle jangled violently and pulled a bobby pin from her hair. Quinn crawled towards the door in front and slid it underneath. She stood up, ready and waiting.

After some fumbling around, the lock clicked open.

Rachel practically ripped the door off its hinges as she searched for Quinn, already in nothing but her under garments. She wanted Quinn to do the honour of stripping her down to her birthday suit.

Spotting her waiting with devilish smirk upon her lips made Rachel crash into her, slamming them both against the bathroom door. They quickly attached their lips together while their hands tried to find purchase on the other. Rachel grabbed her head, holding it firmly in place as Quinn dug her blunt nails into the skin of her back, making it arch.

"I love you," Rachel gasped.

"I love you," Quinn replied just as ardently. "I fucking love you."

They fell into the bathroom and rushed towards the closest wall, knocking a shelf of toiletries off in the process. Neither noticed, consumed with the need to possess the other as her own.

Rachel had imagined this a number of times before; each involving soft, gentle touches as she was granted the honour of touching Quinn's perfect skin, wanting to show her how much she cared for her. Now the time had come, she was being nothing close to gentle. Their kisses and touches were almost rough, raw. She'd never been so out of her mind with lust.

Quinn moaned deeply and Rachel swore she almost came on the spot.

Her hands trembled, making it impossible for her to unhook Quinn's bra. In the end, she settled on forcibly pulling it apart from the back. The sound of fabric tearing caused Quinn to pull away from Rachel's mouth and blink dumbly.

"Why are you wearing that?" Rachel huffed intolerantly. "Why aren't you naked every second of the day?"

"Shh. Kiss me," Quinn demanded, slamming back into her as she sought out her mouth. She was denied.

"I want it off."

It could have been her imagination but Quinn thought she saw a rainbow pass through Rachel's eyes when she revealed her breasts. A very natural, very real reaction was Rachel's arousal shooting through the roof when she saw Quinn naked from the waist up. Unable to contain herself, she groaned and leaned down, latching her mouth against Quinn's bare breasts.

Michelangelo would have a field day sculpting her. That is if he was alive and kicking and she was inclined to let any human being other than Quinn's doctor ever see her naked again. Neither was accurate.

Pulsing heat gathered between Quinn's legs the longer Rachel's mouth and fingers were at her breasts. Spurred on by the harsh, breathy sounds of her one and only, Rachel increased her efforts to make Quinn's head explode through sheer pleasure alone. It was her main goal in life.

"Oh, God," Quinn's hands shot to her pants and, with the help of Rachel, unbuttoned them and flung them across the room. They landed in the shower. Mouths virtually fused together, Quinn forced their bodies away from the wall, staggering forward three steps and then to the floor.

They writhed against each other, dragging their fingers over any expanse of skin they could find, relishing in the little things, like the way they'd make each other moan or gasp; the way the muscles in Quinn's stomach would contract when Rachel grazed over her fingertips over it; the way Rachel would moan Quinn's name, sending her close to senseless.

"Sing for me," she requested forcefully.

Rachel licked the length of the vein visible in Quinn's neck, the surrounding area on each side covered in deep red blotches. Her neck was marked more severely. Subjected to Quinn's mouth earlier, it was a harsh mix of red and purple on each side. She obeyed her request without as much as a second thought. She sat up to look deep into her eyes.

"Let's get physical, physical. I wanna get physical. Let's get into physic—"

Every single one of Rachel's dreams came true the second Quinn grabbed her hand and shoved it inside her underwear.

Quinn inhaled sharply the moment she felt the pressure of Rachel's fingers. The consequential moan was loud and strangled, half stuck in the back of her throat where the compliments to Rachel always ended up unless her lesbian tendencies were over stimulated by cursed sprinkles.

"Oh, God."

"Say my name."

In her own world, back arched off the floor, Quinn didn't hear her. It was only when the movement stopped that she noticed. "Wh..."

"I want you to say my name," Rachel said, lavishing her abdomen and hips with bites and kisses. She licked just under Quinn's hipbone and felt her hand thread through her hair, keeping her in position in case she had any ideas to move higher.

Rachel's name left Quinn's lips more than once when her mouth drifted lower. Rachel found a new part of Quinn that she worshipped: her thighs. She made sure to mark them in every way she wanted; scratching, licking, sucking and biting until they were twitching underneath her ministrations, urging her closer, begging for more.

Rachel Berry would not deny her beloved anything, and soon she had her mouth and fingers where Quinn needed them the most. The resulting moan bounced off all four walls and echoed in Rachel's ears. Through their desperation and pleasure (Rachel was going to die she was so horny), it was the motion of her tongue, the push and pull of her fingers, and the way Quinn would moan and writhe against the floor, arching and twisting in any way to get closer to Rachel's mouth that would be seared into their memories forever. The way Rachel's fingers felt inside her, how she knew exactly what to do with her tongue and lips to make her back lift off the floor and push her hips into Rachel's face.

Minutes later with her stomach coiled tightly, Quinn felt it building to the point of no return. She had no sheets to twist in her hands but it didn't matter because Rachel's hands were now against her thrashing hips, and then one was suddenly against hers, pushing past the tension to thread their fingers together as her anchor. Quinn came with a sharp cry, shuddering and throbbing until Rachel's mouth slowed to a stop, punctuating her love with the first soft kiss of the afternoon, pressed into the inside of the blonde's right thigh.

Shortly after when Quinn slowly began to regain feeling in her body, she saw Rachel wipe her mouth, eyes dark and intense.

"Marry me," Rachel begged, as if for her life.

Quinn groaned, reaching down to pull her closer. Breast to breast, she was overcome with emotion. "I will, I will, I will," she whispered between kisses. "Forever."

"Right now," Rachel managed to say before Quinn's tongue slipped back inside her mouth.

"Tomorrow. First thing. We'll tell our parents at dawn."

Their passion reignited instantly and Quinn attempted to switch their positions, eager to return the favour. In their haste, she heard a hollow thunk and Rachel cry out in pain. She immediately covered Rachel's head with her hands, rubbing the spot she'd slammed against the ceramic sink.

"I'm so sorry, are you all right?" she asked, panting lightly.

Rachel blinked and the extra Quinn's she could see left, leaving nothing but a Goddess of a woman sitting naked, pressed up against her on the bathroom floor.

"I think I'm going to die."

Quinn asked because it seemed like the kind of thing a fiancée would do, not because she wanted to spend the next few hours at the emergency room. They couldn't have sex there.

"You're fine," she said, kissing all over her face. "Stop with that."

Rachel attacked her neck again, getting back to work on the hickey she was creating. It was a work of art as far as she was concerned. "The crazy talk?"

"The talk."

Quinn got exactly what she wanted when she was on top of Rachel, kissing deeply. Her hand skimmed down from Rachel's neck to her chest, slipping underneath her bra. She moaned softly and Rachel was a second away from exploding into a pile of skittles.

"Wh—" Quinn looked down. "Where is it?"

"Your thumb is on it."

"Where's your ugly sweater?"

Rachel went for her mouth again. "I don't know what you're saying." How could she think at a time like this? "Do me."

"Put it on. I want to tear it off."

"Quinn, it's imperative that I climax within the next several minutes. I'll put it on after, now, please don't waste time." She grabbed her hand and pulled it down until it was between her legs.

"Please," Quinn begged, looking into her eyes.

"If my legs rub together..."

Quinn's solution was to stand up (much to Rachel's reluctance to release her hold on her) and hold her ankles, spin her around and pull her across the hallway into her own bedroom. She grabbed Rachel's hands and pulled her to her feet once they were inside. The sweater was with her skirt in a pile at the foot of the bed.

An animalistic growl left Quinn's lips as soon as it was pulled down over Rachel's torso. She ran into her, tackling her onto the bed. It was different when they were in bed together, and although their kisses had not lost their fire or urgency, Quinn's hands were gentler, more inclined to feel than leave a mark.

It had a positive effect on Rachel.

"I want you to join the Glee Club," she moaned breathlessly. "I'm dedicating every solo I ever sing to you."

"Okay."

She arched up against the hot body on top of her, clutching at her. "I need you," she stated, her jaw slackening when Quinn increased the pressure of her hips, rocking down harder.

She thought it would be easier, but when the time came for Quinn to lustfully tear Rachel's sweater apart, nothing happened. She grit her teeth, pulling with all her strength. Rachel knew that was the only thing stopping Quinn from doing what she desperately craved.

"Scissoring. I mean, scissors, on my desk," Rachel struggled to get out.

The next time Quinn attempted to tear Rachel's sweater off, it tore easily from a snip at the bottom. It sent them carnal, stripping off until there wasn't anything separating their skin, kissing like they'd never see each other again, clutching like they might die if the other was to leave.

Quinn's mouth settled back over Rachel's breasts, her fingers drifting down to slip between her legs. She felt her body tense underneath her, breath trapped inside her throat until it was released with a long, soft moan. They continued like this until Rachel's soft moans were a thing of the past, developing into loud, desperate cries for release (and one from when she'd been startled. Distracted by the throbbing and Quinn's fingers inside her, she wasn't expecting the underside of her left breast to be bitten as hard as it was. The mark wouldn't disappear overnight.)

Finally, after minutes of Quinn's hand making her body writhe in ecstasy but keeping her from climaxing, Rachel grabbed her head and pushed down. "Oh, God, just get down there before I die!"

Rachel's cry was guttural the moment Quinn's mouth was buried between her legs. She couldn't breathe, could barely think, but somewhere behind her eyes was a unicorn.

Quinn felt like she knew Rachel's body better than she did. Every calculated sweep or flick of her tongue sent the brunette closer to the edge. She hooked her arms underneath Rachel's legs to draw her closer and then her right hand resumed its previous position; increasing the pace of her fingers while her lips and tongue captured her clit. Rachel's back bowed, screaming her love for Quinn loud enough to make her voice hoarse the next day.

Rachel's toes curled when she came, her body shaking uncontrollably.

As both of their heart rates slowed and Quinn was positive Rachel could take no more, she kissed her way back up and pressed herself against Rachel's thigh. Feeling her soulmate's orgasm had sent her desperate for another release.

It was a never ending cycle. They had to be with each other, it was as simple as that. They were together on the bathroom floor, Rachel's bedroom twice, the kitchen and the living room where they'd sat to eat a rushed dinner.

Rachel topped Quinn as soon as they returned back to her bedroom to "look for a book." Contrast to each time before, for a long time, things didn't progress, each of them content with kissing playfully and passionately, even lazily.

They fell asleep around ten, after a hot shower. The heat brought out the mass of bruises littering their skin. Quinn woke up first, around 3am, feeling the same feral pull towards Rachel as she had since lunchtime the previous day, and so, after a subtle hint of rolling on top of her and kissing her neck, Rachel had awakened to feel the same.

The final time Rachel climaxed was to the sound of Quinn telling her she loved her.

Sunlight streamed through the window the next morning, unblocked by the blind that hadn't been closed the night before. For the first time ever, Rachel Berry's bedroom was a mess. It looked ransacked. The bookcase still overturned, books scattered about on the floor, a guitar thrown in the corner of the room. Rachel's desk had been swiped clean, the contents still on her floor. Her framed photograph of her grandparents was lying in a cracked heap in front of her chest of drawers.

Four legs poked out from crumpled sheets, tangled together.

Quinn's arm tightened around Rachel reflexively, sighing softly as she woke. The first thing she found was that she felt like she'd been hit by a bus. She was so sore and stiff that her brows creased, moaning out her discomfort. Quinn opened her eyes, blinking slowly as she took in the sight of tussled brown hair.

What was this?

Was she dead? Is that why she was so stiff? It would explain the rigamortis.

She closed her eyes again, unintentionally snuggling deeper into the crook of Rachel's neck to escape the pain. Sunlight was bad.

It was then that the memories of the past seventeen hours came rushing back. Her eyes flew open. She shot out of bed in panic, even more horror-struck to find that she was naked and very much marked from head to foot. Quinn begged to be stuck in a dream. She wouldn't sleep with Rachel Berry, not in a million years, not if someone offered her all the gold in the world. She just wouldn't.

"No, no, no, no," she chanted quietly, face twisted in absolute misery. She shot out of the room like a canon, going from room to room to pick up her clothes. Finally, with her cardigan on to cover some of the damage, Quinn left, speed-walking to her car that had been parked hazardously across the front lawn. She'd been in such a rush to get to Rachel yesterday that she hadn't locked it.

Every step was agony, and she winced when she sat down in the car.

It was a sick joke. She'd wake up any second.

Quinn's jaw unhinged when she pulled down the visor and saw the savaged mess of her neck.

Finn looked on in confusion when he saw Brittany and Santana rolling through the halls of McKinley in electric wheelchairs, looking half-dead.

"What happened?" he asked, concerned for the cheerleaders he barely knew.

Brittany looked straight through him and Santana tensed, nervously glancing at Brittany before she said, "Drunk driver," and wheeled over his toes.

He cried out in pain, glaring after her. "What the hell?"

Walking around the corner, Rachel had to stop and brace herself against the wall. She'd walked all the way from the next floor, wincing with every step. Her usually short skirt was today substituted for jeans to hide the marks Quinn had left, likewise with the pashmina scarf around her neck to avoid the Dracula quips.

Finn saw her and immediately hurried over, gently touching her arm. Rachel pulled away, unable to withstand the pain of anyone making contact with her unless it was necessary. It was too much. How was she standing? She'd woken much later than her usual six a.m. and was none the wiser for feeling like a quadriplegic the first two minutes of consciousness. And then it came rushing back like the best worst nightmare she could ever have.

"What happened to you?" he asked gravely.

Quite simply, she'd fucked and been fucked to within an inch of her life.

Oh, God, she had to find Quinn.

"Not now, Finn," she said weakly, slowly walking over to Artie who looked positively stunned when Rachel sat down on his lap and asked him to wheel her to the choir room where Tina had said she was waiting for her.

Tina was there, angrier than Rachel could remember seeing her since the last magical catastrophe.

"Do you know how long I've been grounded for?"

"Do you know how much pain I am in?" Rachel retorted, her voice undoubtedly quieter than Tina's. "I cannot walk, sit, or stand without wanting to cry."

"And whose fault is that? You're the one who wanted to find out the truth."

Rachel's eyes widened at the accusation. How dare Tina blame her for yesterday (and the early hours of the morning). "The truth, nothing more. Why were those stupid sprinkles in your bag anyway?"

"My cat must have knocked them in there. He's always going through my bag when I leave it on the kitchen counter. Or maybe they fell in," she supposed.

"It wasn't my fault," Rachel insisted.

"Mine either," Tina rebuffed.

Artie sat there uncomfortably, especially when Rachel shifted on his lap and groaned in discomfort. It was a little weird.

"Did it work?" Tina continued. "You know..."

Rachel flushed deeply. "Why do you think I'm in this state?"

"She knows about me."

"I'm sorry."

"Did she freak out?"

"We didn't exactly...get around to talking for any extended period of time," Rachel said, eyes on the hands in her lap.

"You didn't make sure she wouldn't tell anyone before she left?" Tina gaped in terror. "Rachel, how could you?"

"I'm sorry Tina, I was a little preoccupied trying to remember how to walk," Rachel snapped. "She left before I woke up and I don't have her number, so I couldn't call or text or actually do anything."

"What if she's planning an assembly to out me?" Tina fretted. "I'll be burned alive."

Before Rachel could assure her that Quinn would never do that, Tina held her hand out beside her and chanted Quinn's name three times. She appeared not a moment later, looking as dazed as one would expect when they'd been hiding in the girl's bathroom just a second before.

Quinn was understandably wary, even having full memory of the day before —especially with having full memory of the day before.

"What the..."

Rachel bolted up instantly, the wince crossing her face not going unmissed by anyone. "It's okay, she won't hurt you."

Quinn looked at Rachel with a mix of annoyance, embarrassment and fear.

"Stay away from me," she demanded of Tina.

"Quinn, don't be silly. Tina is one of the nicest people you'll ever meet," Rachel said with a nod from Artie. "There's no need to be afraid."

"You did this to me," she spat out at the teenage witch. "What the hell was in that cake?"

"Your deepest desire," Tina replied gently.

Quinn's head shook. "No. No, you're just a freak."

Rachel held her hand up just as Tina was about to unleash her fury. "Guys, can you give us a second?"

Tina eventually nodded to Artie. She looked at Quinn fearlessly. "I can be back here in a flash, literally. If you're a bigger bitch than usual, I'll turn you into a frog," she threatened.

Quinn just tensed her jaw.

When they were alone, Rachel almost didn't know what to say.

"You just called Tina a freak," Rachel sighed. Almost had been correct.

"Because she is! How can this be happening? Things like this don't happen in real life."

"It happens more often than you might think. I could tell you a hundred stories from the past three months alone." Quinn shook her head. She didn't believe any of this. She wouldn't. "Does that mean you want to push her against the nearest locker?" Rachel couldn't prevent herself from asking.

Quinn's face flushed instantly. "Shut up," she hissed quietly, stepping closer to her. "Don't ever talk about that."

"Is that a yes?"

Quinn laughed, although it was humourless and warning in tone. "I swear to God..."

Rachel shrugged. "Just tell me. I'm a big girl, Quinn. I can handle the truth, unlike you, apparently."

"You're insane!"

"And you're a coward."

Quinn stepped forward again, toe-to-toe with Rachel. "I don't have feelings for anyone," she enunciated pointedly. "Especially not her."

"Good, because I'm the jealous type," Rachel stated, relieved.

"We are not a couple!" She looked behind to the open door to make sure they were still alone. "Yesterday was nothing; a fluke for you."

"We're supposed to be getting married later today."

"Oh, get real!"

"And you're a member of the Glee Club," Rachel informed her. "Congratulations on being accepted, by the way. I look forward to your input on my solos."

With that, Quinn's mind flashed back to the night before: pressed against each other in the most intimate of ways, Rachel's breathy exhalation that she needed her. Quinn was blushing for a different reason now.

"I am not joining this club."

"You have to, for one month. Brittany and Santana too. I know it might not seem like it, but yesterday was an accident. You can trust Tina with your life, so please don't tell anyone what she is. If you don't do it for her, do it for...well, just, please don't. Anyone who knows about her gift is a liability unless they get to know her —all of us— properly. Time spent here will prove that our intentions are honourable."

Quinn's head shook in disbelief that this was her life now. "I won't."

"Won't what?"

"I'm not joining this stupid club."

"You don't have a choice. First of all, you agreed last night, and second of all, anyone is accepted. All they have to do is show an interest. If you can't manage some false enthusiasm when Mr. Schuester arrives this afternoon, Tina can always do her hocus pocus."

"I will scream if she comes anywhere near me," Quinn said lowly. "Do you understand me?"

The longer Rachel looked into her eyes, the more she wanted to tiptoe and kiss her. This was the longest conversation that they had ever had without being under the influence of cursed sprinkles.

"You don't have to be afraid," she said softly, a little shy under such an intense stare. "I'd never let her hurt you."

Quinn held eye-contact for an extended moment, longer than necessary. Her eyes drifted down to Rachel's mouth for a split second. "I'm not joining Glee Club," she said in exasperation. It came out as a whisper.

"Everybody, let's give a big, warm welcome to our three newest members!" Mr. Schuester bellowed six hours later, a wide smile gracing his face as a loud applause broke out.

Sat uncomfortably on a chair next to Brittany and Santana who were still stuck in their wheelchairs, Quinn crossed her arms. She may have been forced to join but that didn't mean she would be a team player.