She was driving with the top down. A 2012 Chevy Camaro. Dark blue, of course. Her hair whipped across her face, getting stuck on her lips or falling over her eyes. She reached up a hand, pushing it away.

Yes, this was the life. Her book had reached #1 on the New York Times Bestsellers list almost instantaneously after it was released. She was loaded for life.

Now if this damn hair would stay in place. And what was that giggling?

Quinn slowly opened her eyes to see beautiful brown orbs staring back at her. Her own hazel eyes flicked over the long lashes, down the bridge of a nose, stopping at those pink lips and white teeth.

"Morning, beautiful," the brunette next to her grinned.

She closed her eyes and opened them again, confirming this sight was not just a dream. "Hi," she murmured, snuggling further into the pillow.

Rachel brushed her fingers over the blonde's cheekbone. "I can't get over how cute you look in the morning."

"I can't get over the fact that you don't look ready for the day as soon as you wake up. You actually look like a human being."

The brunette's eyes narrowed before she blew a puff of air into Quinn's face. "Bitch. I could get you fired for that."

"Technically, I'm not on—" Quinn froze, déjà vu hitting her. "It was you!"

Rachel feigned confusion. "It was me what?"

"During my wonderful dream filled with fame and fortune, you had the audacity to blow air on my face, filling me with a sense of discomfort, like there will always be something bothering me. How dare you."

The brunette blinked a few times. "I'm not quite sure how to respond to that."

A grin filled Quinn's face. "I left you speechless."

"You sure as hell didn't last night."

Quinn looked up quickly, meeting Rachel's eyes. Pure lust reflected in those mahogany irises she had grown to love. She watched as pupils dilated, covering up any hint of color.

"Surely, you must be joking."

"I'm not. And don't call me Shirley."

The blonde let out an exasperated sigh. "How many times did we go at it last night?"

"Too many to count."

"Exactly. Rach, my fingers hurt. I'm pretty sure I sprained one."

Rachel pouted. "Quinn. Quinnie. My beautiful, amazing, lovely, incredible sex slave," she whined, a smile on her face.

Quinn rolled her eyes as she shook her head. "No."

The actress buried her face into the porter's bare shoulder, letting her fingers graze over naked skin. Her legs entangled further with the blonde's until her knee shot up, pushing into Quinn's center. She watched as hazel eyes widened, a smirk across her face. "I think somebody likes that."

"You'll be the death of me, I swear," the other girl muttered, flipping them over. Her elbows rested on either side of Rachel's head. Both women moaned as Quinn lowered her body, resting each inch of her skin on the brunette's.

"Likewise," Rachel murmured, connecting her lips with Quinn's.


"I can't believe you leave tomorrow," Quinn muttered, slipping her arms through the straps of her bra. She watched Rachel frown as she pulled up a pair of jean shorts.


"You seem like you are," she pointed out.

A silence filled the room as Quinn pulled her shirt over her head. Warm hands touched her stomach, halting the shirt right below her breasts. Her head popped out, watching Rachel's face curiously.

"I am disappointed," the actress admitted, looking at the floor. Quinn stood there silently, unsure of what to say. Over the past two nights of their escapades, she had seen sexy!Rachel, flirty!Rachel, cuddly!Rachel, turned-on!Rachel. She had never seen shy!Rachel. And while that thought was endearing to her, she knew there was a reason this side was escaping. "I had a great weekend here. Broadway during the day, you at night. I just, I…" she trailed off, fighting to find the right words. "I feel like I hardly know anything about you. And I don't want to remember you as Quinn, the hotel employee who was good with her fingers." She shook her head. "I remember you said you were a writer. Tell me about that."

"Now?" Quinn's voice cracked, either from the emotional speech the actress just gave or the realization that she felt the same way.

"Yeah, sure, now." Rachel grabbed the other girl's hand and pulled her down to the bed. Quinn couldn't help but stare at those bare legs that she knew trembled when she touched them. A heated debate began in her head. Touch them or don't touch them? She'd get some sexy times out of touching them. But she knew Rachel wanted a serious conversation right now.

The brunette kept her hand clenched in the blonde's as Quinn began talking. "I just finished writing a novel."

The actress was shocked. "Finished? Like, a full-length novel?"

Quinn nodded, biting her lip.

Rachel sat up straighter. "Tell me all about it."

"Well, I guess it's kind of a life-story… about me." She took a deep breath. "I grew up in a Catholic home. I was taught to love men. But in high school, my eyes really opened up to women. God, there was this one girl. Her name was Santana and I fell completely in love with her. In my story, the character pursues that but I couldn't even talk to her. My senior year, I met Brittany. We became really good friends. I love her, too. Not with the passion that I loved Santana but I still had feelings for her. And then the torment of shit happened. I was kissing her in my room. Now, mind you, it was our first kiss. My dad came in, and I still remember exactly what he said. "Do you guys want piz—" and then silence. He kicked me out immediately. I stayed with Brittany until I moved here. We still keep in touch from time to time. Funny thing, she's going out with Santana." Quinn looked up, waiting for a reply. But Rachel could only stare at her in astonishment. "What?" the blonde asked, feeling overly self-conscious.

"You're so brave," Rachel murmured, scooting closer to the writer.

Quinn blushed. "How?"

"You overcame so many obstacles. I want to read this story."

"You leave tomorrow," Quinn pointed out. Her mind told her not to let the actress. This was her autobiography. Nobody had read this except Amber, who had really only read snippets.

And yet, her heart told her yes, let her read it, let her know all about you.

Rachel grabbed her hand again, lacing their fingers. "Let's go out to eat tonight."

Dinner. As in, a dinner date?

As if she spoke out loud, Rachel rolled her eyes and nodded. "As a date, yes."

A grin spread across the blonde's face. "Where to?"

"I was hoping you'd pick. You know the city better than I do."

Restaurants flashed through Quinn's mind. Fancy, casual. As the green awning with fancy script entered her mind, she smiled. "Dress fancy. I'll pick you up at eight."

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise," the blonde grinned.


Six hours.

She had six hours to get ready.

First things first, put her novel aside. As she located the one-inch binder, she ran her fingers over the cover. Someone was actually going to read this. Her stomach did a little flip but she forced a smile on her face.

How did she expect her work to get published if she only let people with a biased opinion—ie: friends, family… well okay, her sister occasionally—read it? Maybe Rachel will give her an honest opinion.

A soft meow sounded from the bedroom before a thump and the patter of tiny feet came into the kitchen.

"Oh, thank God," Quinn sighed, scooping Xander up in her arms. "I need fashion advice and fast." He stared pointedly at his food bowl, which of course, was empty. Quinn rolled her eyes. "Fine."

After she fed him, she jumped in the shower, taking a full hour to do everything possible to look good tonight.

And then the panic set in.

"What to wear, what to wear…" she muttered, clothes flying out of her closet. She picked up her phone, scrolling to the desired name and hitting send.

"Well, hey there, stranger."

"Amber, thank God, I need your help."

"Thanks, Quinn. I'm doing fine. I know, it is sad that we haven't seen each other all weekend. Some of us don't have celebrities convincing our bosses to let us off work."

Quinn felt instantly guilty. It was true; she had been ignoring the rest of the world while buried under silk sheets, a naked Rachel Berry cuddled up next to her. She spent her days writing and her nights hovering over the actress, her mouth attached to skin.

"I was kidding."

"No, you weren't. And I'm sorry I've been ignoring you. You're my best friend and I got so caught up—"

"Quinn, babe. It's fine. I understand." The blonde heard a soft chuckle and relaxed. "What can I do for you, my dear?"

"Okay, well," she sighed. "I have a date with Rachel tonight. Yes, a real date," she snapped when Amber made a noise to interrupt.

"Are you sure it's not a date… in bed?"

Quinn rolled her eyes at her friend's suggestive tone. "Believe me, we've had plenty of dates in bed. Anyway… I have a real date. I'm taking her to Florentino's. What am I supposed to wear?"

Amber waited a beat. "The blue dress. The one with the plunging neckline."

The blonde jumped up, fishing the garment out of her closet within seconds. She held it out in front of her, cradling the phone between her ear and shoulder. "I don't know… isn't it a little too risqué?"

"It's perfect. The neckline is sexy yet sophisticated while the shortness of it really shows off your ass. Also, the semi-see-throughness of it adds a mysterious factor… if that makes sense."

"It doesn't."

"Yeah, well, you look hot in it. Wear it."

Quinn turned to the mirror, holding the dress in front of her half-naked body. She grinned. "You're the best."

"I know. Have fun. Do something I would do… if I swung that way."

The writer laughed as she hung up. She spun around, hugging the dress to her body. "This is going to be amazing," she spoke to Xander.

He tilted his head, debating whether to attack the dress that was glimmering in the light or not. Another day…


Waiting was always impossible for Quinn. She tended to be early for everything, which meant she had to wait even longer. Her palms were sweating as she clutched the binder.

"Someone looks beautiful."

Quinn turned around and felt warmth rush to every part of her body. There she was. The girl of the hour. As Quinn's eyes grazed over the actress' breasts, she corrected herself. Woman of the hour.

"You're looking pretty spectacular yourself," she smiled.

Rachel was wearing a form-fitting red dress, also short, and barely covering any skin. Quinn's eyes raked down her curves, her mouth watering.

Fuck dinner. They need to get a room before she rips that dress off right then and there.

"Ready to go?" Rachel asked, breaking Quinn's thought process.

She nodded. "Whenever you are."

The brunette grabbed the blonde's hand, entwining their fingers. They walked outside, taking in a breath of the night's cool air.

"Where's the car?" Rachel asked, coming to a stop.

Quinn looked at her, amused. "There is no car."

"How are we—"

"We're walking." At her baffled expression, Quinn spoke again. "Surely, you can walk a couple of blocks."

"Not in these heels!" Rachel exclaimed, pointing to her six-inch Stilettos.

"You've walked the red carpet in those!"

"The red carpet is like, twenty feet. Not twenty blocks!"

"I said a few blocks. If you fall over, I'll just have to majestically sweep you up in my arms and carry you," she smirked.

The actress raised an eyebrow but consented. "Fine."

A shit-eating grin erupted on Quinn's face as she pulled her favorite brunette along.


"They have vegetarian meals here, right?"

"You really think I'd take you to a place that had no vegetarian substitutes?" Quinn rolled her eyes. "Have a little faith in me."

"Name, please," the host asked, pen poised in hand.

"Fabray, reservation for two."

The hostess seated them quickly after that, bringing their drink orders within minutes. Someone obviously recognized the actress.

"I have a question for you," the brunette asked, taking a sip of her chardonnay.

The blonde felt her stomach flip. Why did she automatically assume the worst? She looked into the eyes of the woman across from her, waiting.

"I know we started this whole venture as casual but I've grown some strong feelings for you," she admitted with an air of nonchalance. "I have this strong, predatory need to not let you out of my sight."

Quinn's heart was soaring. Down the valley of her stomach and over the hair on her arms. It circled her neck with warmth before passing her ear, whispering sweet nothings.

"I feel the same way," she stuttered.

Brown eyes sparkled before Rachel spoke again. "Is that your novel?" she asked, gesturing to the binder Quinn had set next to her on the table.

The writer nodded. "Yeah, just a rough copy but this is it." She handed it to Rachel. "I don't expect you to read it all here so take it with you."

"You're giving this to me?"

"Yeah," she shrugged. "I have a copy on my computer, anyway."

Rachel grasped her hand across the table, squeezing it. "Thank you."

Their food arrived, a pasta dish for Rachel and chicken parmesan for Quinn. A comfortable silence fell over them as they dug in.

"I don't want to leave tomorrow," the brunette bluntly stated.

Hazel eyes met brown. "I don't want you to, either."

"What are we?"

"Two friends that are attracted to one another but knowing a relationship is impossible," the blonde muttered, looking at her plate.

Rachel shook her head. "It's not impossible."

"You leave tomorrow. We'll be 3,000 miles apart."

The actress slapped her hand on the table dramatically, causing the china to clink together. A few heads turned in their direction but the brunette ignored them. "I don't understand why you're not willing to try."

"I want to," she replied softly. "But I don't want to hold you back."

Images of Rachel meeting someone new filled her mind. A guest star on her show, a costar of some new movie. But she wouldn't be able to pursue them because some nobody writer trapped in a hotel would be in the back of her mind.

Quinn watched as the other woman's eyes spoke so much, but her lips said so little. She watched as the other woman called for the check. She watched as a hand stretched to hers. She felt fingers link through her own as the cool air hit her once again.

The walk back was quiet, both women deep in thought. They only spoke through their hands, letting their fingers caress and embrace the other's skin.

As the elevator dinged, Quinn felt lost. What did she do now? Kiss the actress goodbye? Go up to her room? Convince her to stay?

As if Rachel read her mind, she tilted her head at the blonde. "Come up with me?"

The writer found herself nodding, stepping into the elevator. Tension rose immediately as the doors shut. Quinn found herself thanking God that it was so late and that nobody else was in the tiny cubicle.

Her back hit the cool, mirrored wall, sending shivers throughout her entire body before a pair of soft lips attached to hers, sending the chill away. She found herself moving her lips automatically, fighting to get the upper hand. Pushing Rachel back against the opposite wall, Quinn raked her fingers down the smaller girl's sides, catching fabric with her nails. The brunette wrapped her arms around the blonde's neck, fingers dipping down and capturing the zipper of her dress. Slowly, she started tugging it down.

The writer grasped the actress' wrists, pinning them above her head as she pulled back to look at her incredulously. "Rachel," she gasped.

Rachel smirked and licked her lips seductively, eye shining. Quinn felt her insides clench. "Yes?" the brunette murmured.

As the blonde opened her mouth, the elevator dinged and she felt herself being pulled down the hall and shoved into a room. She didn't even know how Rachel opened her door so fast.

Hands clutched her body, running down her hips and sliding over her exposed thighs. Those lips she grew to love met hers again in a fiery battle as she felt her dress fall from her shoulder and bunch at her feet. She kicked her shoes off, shrinking a couple of inches shorter than the girl currently attacking her collarbone.

Quinn released Rachel from the confines of her dress, letting her kick off her own heels before lifting her up. The brunette's legs wrapped around the taller girl's waist as they began the slow journey to the bed.

They fell on the bed, the brunette instantly spreading her legs as the blonde fell in between them. Quinn's lips attached to Rachel's bare shoulder as her teeth grazed the skin, her tongue soothing the marks.

"Quinn," the actress mumbled, throwing her head back, hands grasping blonde hair.

"Hm?" Lips moved from the shoulder to the pulse point of the other woman's neck.

"Just—" Rachel tried to speak but broke off as a moan escaped her mouth. She lifted her hips up, moving them against Quinn's stomach. "Please."

The blonde understood instantly. Swinging her leg over Rachel's thigh, she scooted up her body. As she grinded down on the brunette, a duet of moans filled the room. Quinn buried her face in the actress' neck, her arm hugging a head of brown hair.

The brunette's mouth fell open in a low moan as the writer began thrusting against her. The smaller woman's hands disentangled from the blonde's hair, running down the lithe body before cupping the back of her thighs. She lifted her hips up, meeting Quinn's thrusts perfectly.

As their centers rubbed against one another's, both girls felt the pleasurable sensation filling their abdomen. Rachel began thrusting faster, hooking her left leg over Quinn's ass. The new position deepened the taller girl's thrusts and soon enough, they both tumbled over the cliff of ecstasy, falling far into a sea of pleasure.

"We didn't even get naked," Rachel muttered breathlessly, running her fingers over the smooth skin of the girl on top of her.

Quinn grinned teasingly, looking into the brunette's eyes. "Someone was in too much of a rush."

"How dare you blame me!"

"Well, it was your fault. I was going to take my time, pleasure every inch of your body with my tongue, create goosebumps on your skin with my fingers, delve them into your nether regions," she murmured seductively. A groan erupted from Rachel's mouth as her hips lifted automatically, grinding against Quinn's. The writer closed her eyes before grinning. "Someone seems eager again."

"Damn you for being so descriptive."

"What can I say? I'm a writer."

The actress hooked both her legs around Quinn, flipping them over. Brown hair tickled the blonde's skin as Rachel leaned in close to her. "I bet I can make the writer at a loss for words." She pulled back, unhooking her bra. "And this time, no clothes."


Light seeped in from the slit in the curtain, hitting the bed. Quinn ran her fingers over Rachel's skin, tracing the patches of sunlight on her back. She sighed.

Today was the day. The actress was heading back to Hollywood, forcing Quinn to face reality instead of living in this little dream world. She buried her face further into the pillow. Maybe time would freeze right now.

A beautiful groan escaped the brunette's mouth as she rolled over, flinging her body over Quinn's. The blonde smiled and kissed her forehead. She watched as Rachel's eyes fluttered open and a smile stretched across her face. "Morning."

Rachel lost the smile on her face, shaking her head and burying her face in the crook of Quinn's neck. "Not a good morning," she mumbled.

The blonde felt her heart ache. While she wasn't one for cliché romance moments, she honestly thought her heart was breaking. Finally, she understood sappy romance novels.

"I'm giving you my number and I want yours," the brunette continued.

Quinn felt her head nodding.

"I can't promise to call or text every day—"

"I know."

"—since I get so busy and I honestly barely look at my phone as it is—"

"I understand."

"—like I don't even know where it is right now which is bad because I'm leaving soon and I'll get in some deep shit if I don't have it and—"

Quinn tilted her head slightly, softly kissing Rachel. The actress shut up immediately, letting her lips wrap around the blonde's bottom one. Quinn pulled back slowly, resting her forehead against the other woman's. "Let's just enjoy this moment for a little while."

The brunette nodded, cuddling further into the tall girl as her arm wrapped around a slim waist and her leg hitched over a toned thigh.

The blonde pressed a kiss into brown hair, hoping to God time would stop.


Ten days.

It had been ten days since Rachel Berry left. Quinn was positive that the woman took her heart and soul with her.

She was miserable.

Amber noticed, Sam noticed, Jake noticed. Even her boss, Henry, noticed and he wasn't so in tuned when it came to people's emotions.

The blonde constantly found herself staring at her contact list, finger hovering over Rachel Berry with the gold star next to it. When she asked the actress about the emoticon, Rachel was quick to explain.

"In high school, I always knew I would make it big someday. Although, I thought I was going to be a star on Broadway but Hollywood is just as good. The gold star is my signature. I could have just put the star and you would have known who it was."

Each time her fingers hovered over the name, she stopped herself. She had already texted the brunette once, later after she left, wishing her a safe flight and to hope she got home quickly.


Two days later, Quinn sent another text. Seems different here without you. Not sure I like it.

She got the same response. Nothing.

That was when she gave up. She didn't want to seem needy. Rachel said she wanted more but she couldn't even text her back. She couldn't be that busy where she couldn't take two seconds to send a Miss you! Or Seems different here, too.

Maybe the blonde's expectations were too high.

"Why don't you just call her?" Jake suggested, leaning on the counter across from the girls.

Quinn looked up, annoyance written on her face. "If she can't answer a text, I doubt that she'll answer a call."

Amber spoke up from beside Quinn. "It's true. Doesn't seem logical to me."

"Then maybe I just have no idea. Why would she want to be in a relationship with you but not text you back?"

"Why would Sam be the only one working while everyone else is lounging around, doing nothing?" Sam huffed, placing a heavy trunk on the ground. "There you are, Ms. Carmichael," he directed toward the old woman ambling towards them.

"But really, I think you could use the exercise, bud," Jake grinned, slapping the other boy's arm.

Sam glared at him, staying silent.

"You've always had such toned arms, Jake," Ms. Carmichael smiled, giving his left bicep a squeeze.

"Oh, Ms. Carmichael, you slay me," Jake laughed, picking up her suitcase.

"Show her to the usual room, Jake," Amber said, clicking a few times on the mouse. She handed him a key. "Enjoy your stay, Ms. Carmichael."

"You guys are always so good to me," the older woman mumbled, taking Jake's extended elbow. He smiled as he led her away.

"Sam, babe, you need a haircut," Amber murmured, leaning across the counter and fingering his blonde locks.

"What? You don't like—"

Quinn's signature ringtone sounded. She pulled her phone out and froze as she saw the name on the screen. The ever-familiar name and that damn gold star. Her heart was beating in her ears and her fingers felt numb. She's been waiting for this for ten fucking days. A lifetime.

Quickly sliding her finger across the screen, she answered it. "Hello?"


No, fucking Katniss Everdeen. Who else? "Yeah?"

"It's Rachel. Look, I don't know if you remember—"

"Rachel? Hm, I think I remember a Rachel. She turned into a vampire when I had sex with her. Pretty hot if I do say so myself." Quinn looked up to see Amber and Sam staring at her like she had fifteen heads. A blush hit her cheeks as she walked away. Hearing a soft chuckle on the other end of the phone, she continued. "Rachel, how could I forget you?"

"Good point. Sorry for not getting back to you right away."

"It's fine," the blonde lied.

"I was actually calling for a specific reason other than just hearing your beautiful voice." Quinn laughed, shaking her head. "And that laugh. Does wonders to me. Anyway, the reason I didn't get back to you right away… I was selling something."

The writer's brow wrinkled in confusion. "Selling what?"

"Your novel."

Quinn felt her stomach twist as she made a gasping noise. "What?"

"I have a friend who works for Random House. They have a small office here and I showed him your work. He pitched it to the head honcho and—if you'd like—they want to discuss it with you."

Her head spun. Fog swarmed her senses. "Holy shit."

"I know it's a lot and I know I shouldn't have done that without your permission but I read it on the plane and, Jesus Quinn, it was phenomenal. I completely loved it. I connected to your character so easily."

"Thank you," the blonde murmured softly.

"So, here's what I was thinking. Fly out for a couple days—I'll pay for your ticket—and meet with these guys. You can stay with me."

With me. With her. With Rachel.

"You mean I'm going to have to wake up next to you looking average in the morning?" Quinn teased.

A low growl erupted. "Fuck you."

"When and where?"

"Soon and my bed."

Images filled Quinn's mind. Her blood was boiling as it rushed through her body. "Jesus, Rach. Why don't you just start having phone sex, huh?"

"If you insist. Imagine me throwing you a bed, slowly sliding your underwear off with my teeth. I'd show your pussy special attention with my tongue and lips before slamming my fing—"

"STOP. Dear God, I'm at work. Stop or I'll hang up." A cackle echoed in Quinn's ear. She shook her head. "You're impossible."

"You love me."

"Maybe," she smiled.


God, it was hot. Quinn slipped her jacket off, hooking it over two fingers.

"Stripping in the airport? Classy, Fabray."

The blonde turned around, grinning. "Thought I could make a name for myself."

"Every paparazzi's wet dream," Rachel laughed, pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head. She was tanner.

Quinn dropped her bag and rushed into warm arms, burying her face into brown hair. She had missed this. God, had she missed this.

The actress grasped the writer's face in her hands, bringing their lips together for a short but passionate kiss.

"I missed you," Quinn murmured.

Rachel smiled. "I missed you, too. Ready to check out your new home?"

Nothing sounded better to the blonde as she laced her fingers with the brunette's, letting her lead them away.

A/N: This is the second chapter. And probably the last. Hope you guys enjoyed it!