A/N: Hey guys! I'm so sorry writing this next short took so long. So here's the deal with this story. I want to write about their summer vacation and Rachel becoming friends with the Unholy Trinity, but I don't want to write four separate stories. So I've decided to make it one story with each chapter being it's own short spanning out a month apart. They'll be at least 16,000 a chapter so I might take a little longer getting them posted then a normal short (which is about the same length just spread over a few chapters), but I think the quality of this is better than most of the stories in this series. I'm finally starting to get my confidence back and it feels pretty good. Anyway, enough rambling. I hope you enjoy this and please leave a review to tell me what you think.

Rachel let out a little sigh, and looked at all of the clothes in her closet. Normally she loved walking in and seeing all of the different colors of argyle, the different types of animals on the comfortable sweaters. She liked running her hands across the row of skirts, watching as the hems swayed for a few seconds before falling back into place. She bit her bottom lip as she grabbed onto the hanger of the purple skirt, and pulled it out to inspect it. No, this wouldn't be right, she thought, and put it back.

She loved her clothes despite what everyone else may think of them. She loved having her own look that no one else copied, even if it was because they thought she looked like a dork. Right now, however, none of them seemed like a good choice. I've been invited to my first party over the summer, and I have absolutely nothing to wear. This is a total disaster, she thought, and walked out of the closet. She flopped down on her bed, and stared up at the ceiling. Maybe I should just call Quinn and tell her I'm not going. If I don't have anything sexy to wear than I can't go. I'll be the laughing stock of the whole school in August, she thought with another sigh.

Summer was officially here, and usually for Rachel that meant throwing herself into planning for her future. She would post three videos to the internet a week instead of only one. She upped her workout routine to make sure she stayed in shape since there was no gym class, which was only a slight inconvenience. She would also audition for a part in whichever play the local community theater was putting on. She kept herself busy, distracted, and at the end of the day she was always too tired to think about what everyone else she went to school with might be doing with their time.

Only three times had her dads sent her off to a summer camp. It was a place for creative tweens and teens to learn more about the performing arts, but it also taught them about the production side of things, and the last two weeks of the camp was open was spent putting together a few one act plays that some of the students wrote and directed themselves. Rachel had learned very quickly that she's not a writer, but mostly because the other performers were less open minded about her ideas then she needed them to be.

This summer was already different, and school had only been out for five days. She didn't have time to work more on her vocal range than usual because she had gone to the mall with Quinn, Brittany and Santana, and she actually enjoyed herself. Brittany kept Santana calm and somewhat distracted, especially while trying on clothes. She really didn't know what the blonde and other brunette would get up to in the dressing room that always put a sneaky smile on Santana's face for the rest of the day, but Rachel was thankful for it because the other girl's insults were less cutting afterwards.

But how long was this really going to last? Experience taught her that the people in this town were simply too small minded and intolerant to handle her big personality. New York would be different because the people there were like her; larger than life, creative, obsessed with achieving greatness. They would understand where she was coming from. She was sure Santana and even Brittany would eventually get tired of her and Quinn's influence only went so far. How long would they remain friends before the couple made the former Cheerio choose between remaining a part of the Unholy Trinity and spending time with her ex?

She was pulled out of her melancholia when her phone made the little chiming noise that indicated an incoming text message. She blindly reached over onto the bedside table and held the small device up to her face. It's only five o'clock, what could Quinn possibly want? She unlocked the screen and her eyes skimming over the words. "Hey, Rach, we're outside, could you let us in?" Her eyebrows furrowed, and she jumped off the bed, hurrying over to the window.

What in God's name are they doing here? The party doesn't start until eight, she thought as she saw Santana, Brittany and Quinn get out of Santana's car and make their way towards the front door. Quinn looked up, and smiled at her. Rachel couldn't help but smile back, and wave slowly at the other girl. Yeah, because that didn't make you look like a huge dork, she thought as she ran out of the room and down the stairs. The doorbell didn't go off, and there was no knock, but when she opened it they were all waiting.

"Hey, Rachel," Brittany said before making her way into the house as if she had been there a million times before. She was holding an arm full of clothes, and Rachel's eyebrows furrowed even more. Why is Brittany carrying enough clothes for at least eight people, and why is Santana holding – is that a tackle box? she thought as her eyes quickly flicked from one girl to the next. "Where's your bedroom? These are heavy."

"It's the up the stairs, second door on the right," she said, and Brittany didn't hesitate before heading up. The brunette turned to the other two and watched with confusion written all over her face as they walked in. Quinn shut the door behind her, and smiled as soon as she saw the expression on the little diva's face. "Not to sound rude, but what are you guys doing here? I thought you said you were going to pick me up before the party."

"Calm down, Thumbelina. We're here to get ready," Santana said, and looked Rachel up and down. The diva squirmed under the intense gaze, and fought the urge to wrap her arms around her middle in an attempt to escape Santana's leer. "I brought some clothes over for you to wear. They're from freshman year before my last growth spurt so they should fit you just fine." Quinn's face instantly contorts into a look of anger, and she smacks Santana hard on the arm. "Ow, bitch, that wasn't an insult. She's shorter than I am, and my boobs are bigger, what clothes was I supposed to bring? Por el amor de Dios, echar un polvo ya," she spat in Quinn's direction. Then she walked up the stairs, glancing back at Quinn, giving her a very poignant look that Rachel couldn't read.

"So, are you ready for your first Unholy Trinity makeover?" Quinn asked with a cheeky smile when the head Cheerio disappeared from sight. Rachel just stared at her, feeling overwhelmed and unsure of what to say. The blonde let out a little sigh, and gently squeezed Rachel's bicep. "Look, it's not going to be anything extreme. You'll wear something a little tighter than you normally wear, with no argyle or animals on it, and you'll have darker eye makeup. That doesn't sound too bad, does it?"

"How long have you three been planning this? You invited me to the party two days ago, and you never said anything about a makeover," she said, looking into Quinn's eyes, and thinking that was possibly the worst thing she could have done at the moment. Her heart rate immediately picked up, and she could feel herself flushing. She suddenly became very aware of just how alone she was with the other girl, and she glanced down at Quinn's mouth as the blonde smiled again.

"We didn't plan it. Santana just mentioned that your wardrobe isn't really...appropriate for Puck's party, and thought a makeover would be fun," she said, trying to put as much enthusiasm as possible in the last part. It was obvious Rachel didn't look very convinced, but she didn't look like she was totally against the idea, either. "We used to do them all the time with each other in middle school. You don't have to do this, Rachel, if you don't want to. We can just get ready, and then head over."

"No, it's fine. I just feel a little taken off guard, that's all. I just wish you would have sent a text or something before you got here," she said, and forced herself to look away from Quinn's mouth. The blonde was wearing gloss and it made her lips look soft, and a little shiny, and Rachel swore she could smell the scent of it from where she was standing. It's the cherry. She knows how much I love the cherry. God, I wish I could just kiss her. It would be so easy, she's standing right there. Ok, Rachel, stop being so weird. Stop taking out your sexual frustration on her. It isn't fair. You guys are friends now, and you don't want to ruin that by leaning forward and sucking on that amazingly perfect bottom lip.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think you would mind," she said, and looked down at her shoes. Why does she keep staring at my mouth? Do I have something in my teeth? Damn Santana's mom and her homemade chicken salad sandwiches, she thought, and tried to subtly run her tongue over her teeth. She looked back up at Rachel, and frowned a little when the other girl wouldn't make eye contact.

"You two better be making out," Santana's voice suddenly cut through the quiet of the room causing both of their heads to sharply turn towards the stairs. "That's the only excuse I'll accept for taking so damn long down there." Rachel's face immediately flushed with embarrassment, and Quinn wasn't handling the comment any better than she was, and that thought was a little comforting to the diva.

"We better get up there before she comes down here or we'll never hear the end of it," Quinn said, and only gave Rachel a passing glance as she walked towards the stairs, and quickly made her way towards the diva's bedroom. God dammit, Santana, she thought, as she tried to calm her throbbing body. Everything from her head to her toes felt like it was on fire, but one area in particular was making her feel very uncomfortable thanks to the images planted in her mind at Santana's impatient remark.

Take a deep breath, count to ten and then follow her, Rachel thought, and very slowly took in a deep pull of oxygen through her nose. She did as her therapist suggested when she starts to feel stressed; she imaged her lungs as a large empty vat that needed to be filled to the top or the whole thing would implode. She held her breath - could feel the extra oxygen working its way through her system, calming her heartbeat and making her feel a little dizzy - counted to ten and, listened to Quinn's soft footfalls on the stairs.

When she was sure the other girl was about halfway up, she let out her big breath, and stared at the carpet as she walked. The temptation to look up was breathing down the back of her neck making her feel hot, and clammy. Looking up meant she would get a really great view of some of Quinn's physical attributes she'd admired in the past, and if she looked hard enough, maybe even a quick up skirt peak at what the blonde was wearing underneath.

No, it wouldn't be lucky, she thought. It would be perverted and gross. She's my FRIEND now, that's all. She's made it more than clear that she's not sure if she can trust me with her heart again. Looking at her like she's an object isn't fair or right; even if she used to smile whenever she caught me staring at her when we were still together.

By the time she made it to the top of the stairs, Quinn was thankfully out of sight. Rachel took another deep breath, closed her eyes and pictured the oxygen filling her lungs, and then let it out really slow. She went to walk into her room, but stopped dead in the doorway at what she saw. Her jaw fell open, her breath seized in her chest, and her eyes went wide. Shock, confusion, and a little bit of anger roared through her system at the same time, and she wasn't sure how to react to what she was seeing.

Quinn was standing at the foot of the bed going through the clothes that Brittany had set down, which she wasn't surprised to see at all. It was Brittany and Santana that left her feeling completely out of place in her own home, and she had no idea what to do. The tall blonde was standing in nothing but a sky blue bra and underwear as she looked at herself in Rachel's mirror, leaning in close to look at her face then taking a step back to assess her body as a whole.

Rachel had no idea why, but Santana was walking around her room, glancing at everything on her walls with a look of scrutiny, and opening drawers as she walked passed. She would take a moment to dig through them for a few seconds before closing them as if doing so was something she had done a million times before. Rachel wanted to scream at her to stop even though she wasn't really harming anything, wasn't taking anything out or making a mess, and the diva didn't have much to hide except for her diary, which was locked safely in the back of her closet. But Santana Lopez was not someone she was even comfortable having in her house let alone going through her things.

"Quinn, what did you do to Rachel?" Brittany's voice cut through the chaotic noise buzzing through her head. She blinked, and looked over at the tall blonde who was now facing her, hands at her side and a concerned look on her face. Her eyes quickly flicked over to Quinn who looked up from the clothes. She looked a little confused, but also concerned.

"I didn't do anything," she said, sounding defensive. The conversation caught Santana's attention. She put Rachel's photo album back on the shelf where it belonged and turned to face the others. Her eyebrows immediately furrowed as her sharp gaze went quickly back and forth between the diva, and the captain of the Cheerios.

"Then why is she all sweaty? What were you two doing downstairs, trying to round second before someone interrupted?" she said, and walked towards the bathroom. "Come on, Tinkerbelle, you need a cool shower before we do anything else."

"I can bathe on my own just fine, Santana," she said, and rushed in front of the other girl before she reached the bathroom door. Santana stopped in her tracks and gave her a small glare. When Rachel refused to back down, she let out a little sigh, and put her hands up in mock surrender.

"I was going to put your hair back so it won't get wet, but if you want to do that on your own then that's cool with me," she said, and Rachel's face softened. Maybe she isn't so bad, after all. I don't think she's used to dealing with people who aren't guarded all the time, she thought and slowly felt her muscles relax. Maybe we could be friends. We can go to the mall together and she can help me pick out clothes, and I can teach her the Broadway classics she desperately needs to learn. Oh my God, this is going to be amazing! "Just hurry up because we need to pick an outfit for you and I have a feeling that's going to take a while." Rachel's enthusiasm immediately fell when Santana's eyes racked slowly up and down her body, and she had a sour expression on her face, like it physically hurt to look at her.

"Don't go through my things while I'm gone. That's very rude, you know, and it's not like we're friends or anything," she said, trying to sound casual, but there was a bite to her voice that wasn't intentional. Her eyes flicked away from Santana, and towards Quinn when the blonde turned away from the clothes on the bed and watched the other two. Rachel could just tell by the look on Quinn's face that she had caught the tone that slipped out, and she knew exactly what it meant. Knowing that Quinn knew exactly how she was feeling at that moment made her feel very uneasy.

Is there such a thing as knowing someone too well? I thought love was supposed to be knowing everything about a person and accepting them for who they are. The movies never show what happens when that explodes, and now she just has all of this information. Well, I know a few things about her that no one else knows. I know that she loves mangos but she hates oranges, and I know she only eats meat once a week. I know she has a collection of books under her bed that her father would have forbidden her to read, and I know what her face looks like when she has an orgasm. I'm the only person on the planet who knows that.

Her inner pep talk made it easier to brush off Santana's comment, and walk into the bathroom without feeling like she wasn't wanted. Feeling like that at school was something she had been dealing with since middle school, but this was the first time anyone had ever made her feel like less of a person in her own home. But she could just tell by the look on Quinn's face that Santana wasn't going to get away with that comment without some form of a reprimand. Seeing that Quinn was still on her side, after all of the drama that went on between them made her feel better; special in a way that she had never really felt before.

"Santana, do you have to be such a jerk to her all the time?" Quinn asked as soon as the bathroom door was shut. Her eyes narrowed in a glare as the other girl turned around and gave her a confused look. She couldn't tell if she was playing dumb or actually sincere as to why the blonde was on her back.

"What are you talking about? Her wardrobe is hideous, and finding a look for her that doesn't make me want to toss her into a hobbit hole and throw away the key isn't going to be easy if she runs that big mouth of hers about everything," she spat as she walked towards the pile of clothes and started going through them.

"Maybe if you weren't such a bitch to her all the time then she wouldn't be so defensive about everything. Rachel is really cool once you get to know her, but you're never going to get to see that side of her if you're always so abrasive," Quinn said, and watched as her friend started setting clothes aside from the pile. She could tell just by the size that they were the ones she intended to have Rachel model, and just the thought of it caused a reaction, a very unwanted reaction that made her shift her weight from one foot to the other.

"Look, Quinn, I'm glad that you're all out and proud. Since you've had your taste of the rainbow you've been calmer, and happier, and let go of that 'me versus the world' bullshit that you were carrying around since I've met you. But not everyone has been sipping the Berry flavored Kool-Aid, and I'm not going to keep it anything less than real with her just because she's the Jasmine to your Aladdin in the Whole New World duet you guys were living," she said, and once she was finished picking out a few different outfits for Rachel to try, she started going through the rest of the clothes for something for her.

Quinn flinched as if she had been slapped. Her eyebrow quirked a little, and she looked confused as well as angry. "Why the hell does Rachel get to be Jasmine?" She glared at the other girl when Santana looked at her like she was crazy. Santana knew that was one of Quinn's favorite songs, and she was not crazy for getting annoyed.

"Are you kidding?" she asked, and then rolled her eyes when Quinn continued to glare. No, the blonde definitely wasn't joking. "You hit those high notes like you know Berry can and you can be Jasmine." She broke the stare down with Quinn when she saw Brittany walk towards them. The taller blonde's eyes were sparkling with mischief, and Santana knew that look well.

"Besides," Brittany said, and picked up the outfit she had chosen special for tonight. This was the first party she was going to with Santana as her girlfriend. They weren't officially out, but Santana promised she wasn't going to try and hide their relationship. She promised to hold hands, to dance together, and ignore anyone who tried to get her attention away from the blonde. This top was low enough, the bra tight enough, and shorts revealing enough that Santana's gaze wouldn't stray even if she wanted it to. "Between the two of you, Rachel is the only one that looks like a Middle Eastern Princess."

Quinn's head tilted forward a bit, and she looked up at Brittany with fire in her eyes. She became even more agitated when the two shared a glance, and small smirks tugged at their lips before they broke eye contact, and went back to what they were doing before. The entire exchange took seconds, but it lit a fire in Quinn's belly. She and Rachel used to share glances like that, but not since the breakup, and seeing it happen right in front of her caused a dose of jealousy to course through her veins.

"So you're saying that I look like a Middle Eastern hobo? How flattering, Brittany, thank you for that," she said, her voice laced with snark and annoyance. All the other blonde did was make eye contact and wink before changing bras. Quinn just rolled her eyes, and started going through the clothes again.

"Of course you don't, Quinn," Rachel said, and the blonde gave a start at the unexpected voice. "Do I even want to know what the three of you were talking about that prompted that question?" Quinn turned around to answer, but she froze when she saw the tiny brunette standing in the doorway wearing nothing but a towel. Her hair was pulled up in a tight bun, and water still dripped from her legs. Her long legs that seemed to run on forever as Quinn's eyes slowly followed the water drops on their descent. Holy hell, I want to dry her legs off – with my tongue. God, please give me the strength to avoid this temptation. Please, God, please.

"It isn't important," Santana said, snapping Quinn out of her staring. Her eyes immediately shot upwards, and locked onto Rachel's gaze. The brunette was blushing, and her eyebrows were crinkled in a slightly confused look. It made Quinn's face and ears blaze with embarrassment. Shit, she knew I was staring. Why doesn't the earth open up and swallow me whole when I need it to? "Ok, Berry, I really don't need to see what kind of horrors are in your underwear drawer, just make sure to pick something dark, and a thong because panty lines are a huge no."

"Santana, I can pick out my own underwear, thank you very much," she said, and walked over to the dresser. She tried as hard as she could to stop her head from turning and finding out if Quinn was still watching her. God, she was looking at me like she was about to devour me. And all I'm wearing is a towel, if I kicked Santana and Brittany out then it's possible that could happen. No, no, just stop thinking about that right now.

"I have no proof of that," she said and smirked when Rachel let out a groan of agitation. As Rachel went through her drawer, Santana picked up one of the potential outfits. It was a dress her mother had allowed her to by for her fourteenth birthday party. It was dark purple, had very thin straps, and the hem stopped at about mid thigh. "Here, try this one first. Brittany, do you think you can put some soft curls in her hair?"

"I can do my own hair, Santana," the smaller girl said with an edge to her voice. A small wave of tension fell over the room, and blue and hazel eyes quickly flicked back and forth between the stubborn little diva, and the short tempered diva. Crap, things are about to get ugly, Quinn thought, and gently touched Santana's arm in what she hoped was a calming gesture.

"We know you can do your own hair, Rachel," she said, and stepped towards the other girl. She stopped short when she saw that Rachel was holding a black bra and thong. They were simple cotton with no designs that Quinn could see, but that didn't matter. What mattered was Rachel would be wearing them soon and Quinn didn't know if she would be able to handle it. "But we're giving you a makeover. It wouldn't be fun if you did everything yourself, right?"

Brittany walked over to her as she finished buttoning up her shirt. "Just pretend you're a model and we're getting you ready for a fashion show. That's what we used to do, and it was really fun."

"Except when we used to pretend to walk on the catwalk; that was never fun," Quinn said, her eyebrows furrowed as she thought back on all of those memories. Santana couldn't help but chuckle as she remembered exactly what the blonde girl was thinking of.

"That's because you couldn't walk in heels worth shit and you kept tripping," she said, barely able to get the words out as her laughter got stronger. Brittany started laughing too as she very carefully took Rachel's hair out of the bun. She played with it until it lay flat, and Rachel looked up at her; her large brown eyes looked a little unsure and nervous.

"It wasn't funny," Quinn said, but her own laughter betrayed her. "I wasn't allowed to wear stuff like that back then. My parents would have had a fit if they knew what we were doing. My dad says that modeling is basically a form of prostitution because what they're selling are their looks."

Santana scoffed and handed Rachel the dress. "Did your dad suffer a blow to the head that made him a total ass? Because I honestly don't know what your mom could have seen in him. Unless what she saw was a bank account and shiny car. Can't blame a girl for that." Brittany gave her a very disapproving look, but didn't say anything when Santana got a playful cheeky smile on her face, and gave her a little wink. Sometimes her sense of humor wasn't really funny, but Brittany learned to let it go.

Rachel shook her head a little as she walked over to the other side of the room. She was sure Santana was going to mock her for it. She could just hear her voice now, teasing her for trying to hide while she slipped on her underwear with her back to the three of them, and but on her bra as quickly as possible to prevent any of them from getting a glance at her breasts. She was surprised when Santana didn't say anything, and it made the tight coil in her belly unravel as she slipped on the dress.

"I have no idea. He's been that way as long as I can remember," Quinn said, and opened up the box that Santana had set on the dresser. It was full of makeup, and everything else that they would need to get ready. She started going through the eye shadow, trying to decide which would go best with Rachel's skin tone. She couldn't help but think back to those times of the "fashion show days", and a big smile tugged at her lips. "Hey San, remember when you knocked over the bronzer and it got all over your mom's bed?"

"Oh my God, I thought she was going to kill me," she said, her eyes going wide for a second as the memory flooded her mind's eye. Rachel just smiled a little as she tried to picture a younger Santana, probably freaking out and swearing in Spanish, afraid of what her mother would say or do. She just couldn't imagine it no matter how hard she tried. She couldn't help but feel a little nervous, however, as she walked back over to where the three were standing.

"What do you think?" she asked, and they turned to look at her. Her mind was screaming at her to pull her arms up and wrap them around her stomach. Standing there with Quinn, Brittany, and Santana staring at her while they ran their eyes up and down her body made her feel more exposed than she ever had in her life. Think of it as an acting exercise; don't let them see you sweat, she thought and took in a deep calming breath. She couldn't help but tense when Brittany walked over to her, but she relaxed when all the blonde did was zip up the back.

"Not bad. Let's try something else just in case," Santana said, and walked over to the bed. A flood of relief rushed through Rachel, and it felt like cold water running down into her belly. She felt like she had just dodged a bullet, and she didn't realize how tense her muscles had been. She waited as Brittany carefully unzipped the dress, and watched as Santana picked out another outfit. "Here. This skirt will show off your legs, and this shirt will show off your cleavage. Well, what cleavage you have to show." She can never just be nice about anything, can she?

"Santana, don't be rude. Not all of us have silicone on our chests," Quinn said, and turned back to the dresser. She was in her own personal hell, and she couldn't help but feel like she was being punished for something. Seeing Rachel standing there in that short dress, the straps loose and falling off of her shoulders because it wasn't zipped up made her react in a way she wasn't comfortable with; at least not in front of everyone else. Oh God, now she's stripping down, she thought when she heard the dress hit the floor. God, I promise I will never sin again if you get me out of this alive.

"I'll never forget the time we were over at my house, and we were singing along with that Christina Aguilera video," Brittany said, and Quinn barked out a laugh, and looked over at Santana. The brunette was already blushing, but that didn't stop Brittany from finishing her story. "And Santana was in the middle of the high note she noticed my mom filming us, and her voice cracked, and she got so embarrassed she almost started crying."

"And she locked herself in your bathroom and she wouldn't come out for half an hour," Quinn added, and the two started laughing so hard their faces turned beat red, and they could barely breathe. Santana just rolled her eyes, and tried her best to ignore them. It wasn't her fault she was camera shy as a kid, and Brittany's mom filmed them anyway. As long as that video never surfaced she would be fine.

"It wasn't that funny," Santana grumbled, and crossed her arms over her chest. Her eyebrows furrowed a little, and she made a point of not moving an inch when Brittany walked towards her. Her eyes wanted to roam over the silky skin of her legs on full display thanks to the small amount of fabric masquerading as a pair of shorts. She tried to stay strong as Brittany gently pinched her cheek between her thumb and finger, and lightly shook it. After a few seconds, she broke. She smiled, biting her bottom lip to hold back the laughter that was bubbling in her chest. Brittany left a quick peck on her lips before walking back over to the dresser, a victorious smile on her face.

"Wow," Rachel said, shaking her head in disbelief with an expression on her face that was a cross between shock and confusion. It caught Quinn's attention, and she looked over at the brunette with curiosity. For a moment she forgot what she was going to ask. The sight of Rachel in a short skirt, and a tight shirt with some of her cleavage on display made all thought evaporate from the blonde's mind. The only thing she could focus on was not crossing the room, and running her tongue from Rachel's clavicle down to her chest.

"What's that look for?" she finally croaked out. She immediately cleared her throat, and prayed and no one would notice that her voice was huskier than normal. By the gleam that showed up in Santana's eyes, and the little smirk on her face, she knew she had been caught. Please don't say anything, she thought, and held eye contact with her friend for a few seconds hoping that her message got across. She wasn't sure if it was the desperation in her eyes or if Santana just wanted to get ready as quickly as possible without much drama, but either way she didn't tease the blonde.

"Nothing," Rachel said, and turned towards Santana, holding her arms out as if to say 'what about this one?' "I just can't believe you three used to be so…precious and innocent." The three exchanged a glance, but quickly went back to what they were doing. Quinn picked out the makeup she thought would suit Rachel, while Santana picked up another outfit, and Brittany went into the bathroom to retrieve the curling iron.

"What, you thought we were born sluts and thugs?" Santana said, exchanging Rachel's skirt and top for a different dress; this one red a little more revealing than the last. Rachel's eyes went wide, and her whole body tensed. She looked from one to the other, shaking her head quickly, and looking apologetic.

"No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply anything like that," she said, and quickly slipped into the dress. "It's just, I used to wake up dreading going to school because I was so afraid what you were going to do to me that day. Hearing what you guys were like before that is a little hard to take in." As soon as she finished speaking, Santana zipped up the dress, and then took a step back to consider it.

"Why were you afraid of me?" Brittany asked as she walked back into the room, curling iron and hair spray in hand. "I was never mean to you." Rachel smiled a little as she looked up at the tall blonde. She had a point, but she clearly didn't understand the way bullying worked if she truly thought she was innocent in it all.

"You're right, it was mostly Quinn and Santana, but you were always there when it happened. Guilty by association, I guess," she said, and was about to protest when Santana opened up her closet door. If she finds my diary I'll be the laughing stock of the school. No one needs to know what I have in there, and Quinn would kill me if any of that got out, she thought, but relaxed when she saw all the other girl was doing was looking for a pair of shoes to go with her dress. "I guess I don't have to worry anymore, though, right? We're all friends now, or trying to be, at least."

"Yeah, yeah," Santana said, trying to sound bored with the conversation, but it was obvious to everyone she was uncomfortable. "You're safe from the big bad Cheerios now Berry, whatever. If this Hallmark Moment is over, we have a party to gets to, and there's a fine line between fashionably late, and being stuck hanging out with sloppy drunk douche-bags because we're too far behind."

"This is going to be the best party ever," Brittany said as she gently took Rachel by the wrist and lead her over to the vanity. "I can feel it." As soon as Rachel was sitting down, the tall blonde began to tease her hair, and fan it out while the curling iron warmed up.

"Britt, you always say that," Santana said with a little chuckle. Now that Rachel was being taken care of by the other two she could focus on getting herself ready. She needed to look perfect, and she couldn't do that if she was holding Rachel's hand through the entire makeover process. She'd just have to trust Quinn not to fuck up the brunette's makeup.

"And I'm never wrong, am I?" she responded and looked back at her girl with a small smile on her face.

"No, I guess not," Santana said and smiled back at her for a few seconds before she turned her back on the three and started stripping.

"Hey Brittany, Santana and I are going shopping next week, can I borrow the tight leash you keep her on?" Quinn asked with nothing but amusement dripping from her voice.

"Oh, fuck off, Fabray," she practically spat as she slipped on the tight blue dress she had picked out just for this night. There was no way Brittany was going to get distracted by other people and give attention to anyone else; Santana would be sure of it, and this dress was her weapon of choice. She looked over at the other three, the blondes fussing over Rachel's hair and makeup while Rachel sat perfectly still and let them treat her like a doll. Either way this night would be memorable, even if it was a total disaster.

As soon as Rachel stepped through the front door to Puck's house, her senses were overwhelmed by the chaos inside. As a reflex, she reached out and grabbed onto Quinn's hand. The blonde was a couple inches in front of her since she was more accustomed to summer parties with the popular kids. To the diva, it only made sense that she would lead the way inside. Now Rachel was questioning the decision to come.

The music was so loud she could feel the bass rumbling in her chest. There were so many people in the living room she couldn't even see the other side of the room. It was hot, and humid from the body heat, and everyone else's breath. There was a thick smoke swirling in the air that smelled terrible, and immediately Rachel started to get a headache. It felt like a dull throb across her forehead. She gripped Quinn's hand harder as she was lead into the sea of dancing bodies.

"Does Puck have a pet skunk or something?" she asked Quinn as she looked around at all of the people surrounding her as they very slowly made their way across the room. Her voice was lost in the loud music, and Quinn glanced back at her with a confused expression on her face.

"What?" she yelled, and stopped walking. There were four very large football players blocking her way, and getting them to move was not going to be easy. A shiver ran down her spine, quick as lightning when she felt Rachel's warm breath lightly graze the shell of her ear.

"It smells like a skunk in here, what is that?" she asked, and Quinn couldn't help but smile. She sometimes forgot how sheltered Rachel was when it came to parties. It also made her feel really bad since the main reason the diva had never been invited before was mostly from her reign of terror. She made Rachel a social outcast for the first two years of high school, but at least she was attempting to make up for lost time.

"Puck always pulls out his 'peace pipe' when he invites people from other schools. It keeps everyone calm, and gets rid of the rivalry so no one gets in a fight because of stupid football statistics," she yelled back, and couldn't help but smile a little bigger at the confused look on Rachel's face. "It's weed, Rachel. People are smoking weed."

The diva's eyes became so large they felt like they were going to pop out of her skull. "What if someone calls the cops? I can't go to jail for being at a party with marijuana, Quinn. My dads would kill me. They would lock me in my room, and put me on home school. They would ban us from seeing each other ever again." Her rant was cut short when she felt the soft pad of Quinn's thumb gently caress the back of her hand.

"No one is going to call the cops. Everyone in this neighborhood is either drunk because they hate their jobs, or they smoke too. Just relax, ok? We're here to have fun," she said. Rachel wanted to protest, she really did. She had a whole list of reasons why she wouldn't be able to relax that she was already prioritizing and putting into bullets. But there was something in Quinn's eyes, a gentleness she hadn't seen since they broke up that kept her quiet. Quinn was asking Rachel to trust her, and Rachel was taken so off guard by it she wasn't sure how to react.

Quinn didn't give her a chance to figure it out. Before Rachel could say anything at all, the blonde turned around, and slowing began trekking through the blockade of people standing between them and the kitchen. Rachel's anxiety eased a little when they started moving at a fairly regular pace, and she did trust Quinn to keep her safe. It may have been a lot of people, but they were all the same age, and even though she wasn't used to this type of environment, she knew if she kept her wits about her nothing too bad would happen.

Plus they had Santana with them, and even though the Cheerio refused to admit it, she was fiercely protective of the people she cared about. Kurt had told her about the "Karofsky incident" in the hallway with Blaine. Santana doesn't even like Blaine, and she still stepped in and threatened to cut the larger boy up with all of the razorblades she apparently keeps in her hair. Rachel knew that was a big fat lie. She had seen Brittany run her fingers through that silky looking hair many times, and her fingers were never harmed. Rachel was starting to think the other girl was more like an insecure kitten, baring its teeth and hissing at anyone who came too close, but what is a kitten really going to do besides posture?

"Fabray, Berry, lookin good," Puck's voice rang loud and clear, snapping Rachel out of her mind and back to reality. She wasn't sure if it was the stress of being in such a packed area, or maybe the smoke was having a weird affect, but she didn't even notice that she and Quinn had made it out of the living room and into the kitchen.

It wasn't as crowded as the living room, and it wasn't as loud either. She took a look around, and her eyes went a little wide when she noticed the ten bottles of liquor just sitting on the counter. They all looked different, and she couldn't help but think that was total overkill. Why would someone need that many different types of alcohol at one party?

"Thanks, Puck," Quinn replied and let go of Rachel's hand. The diva had a moment of panic, two seconds where she wanted to reach out and hold onto Quinn's hand because of the safe feeling it gave her. She felt ridiculous for feeling that way. Quinn wasn't a safety blanket for her to follow around. They came here to relax and have fun, and being clingy wasn't going to accomplish that at all.

So instead, she walked over to the bottles of alcohol and started reading the labels, and she was surprised to see that there wasn't much different in variety. The brands varied, but they were generally all the same. There were two different types of rum, three bottles of tequila, a bottle of whiskey, two different flavored vodkas, and a couple different flavors of margarita mix. For a moment she was surprised that there was any tequila left since it was the first thing to go at the party she threw at her house, but knowing Puck, he was probably saving it for Santana and Brittany to do body shots with. She wasn't too sure how to feel about that.

"There's soda in the fridge, Berry, if you need a mixer. The cherry vodka and Sierra Mist is really fuckin good if you don't want rum and cokes again," he said, and she looked over at him with a skeptical look on her face. She didn't entirely trust Noah, especially when alcohol was involved. It was a well known fact that he made a habit of swiping girls' virginity cards, and what happened with Quinn was a perfect example of that.

She looked over at the blonde, and her concern must have shown more on her face than she realized, because Quinn smiled at her and gave a playful eye roll. "They're really good, Rach, I've had them before." Rachel's heart felt like it was being squeezed when the word 'Rach' slipped from Quinn's pink lips. She wasn't sure if Quinn had said that on purpose or not, but she definitely wasn't going to point it out. If it was an accident, she didn't want to make things awkward, and if it was done on purpose she didn't want Quinn to know the kind of power she still held over the other girl.

"Ok, I guess I'll try one," she said, and she couldn't help but smile at how happy that made the blonde. She was actually following through with what she said, she was going to let go a little, and trust the blonde to keep her safe, and just the act of agreeing to relax made her feel good. Even Rachel, has her limits, however. "But don't make it too strong. I can't get a hangover or Dad and Daddy won't let me go to another party until I'm moved out of the house and they have no say where I go." She wanted to glare at the blonde for laughing at her, but she didn't want to ruin the good mood they were both in.

"Don't worry. One shot will give you a nice little buzz," she said, and opened up the fridge. She pulled out a can of soda, and then pulled out some ice from the freezer. Rachel watched as the drink was made for her, and she couldn't help but smile. I wonder if this is what our future would be like. Coming home after an exhilarating performance on Broadway, and having a drink with Quinn while we relax and talk about our day, she would give me a foot rub and laugh at all of the behind the scenes gossip, and just when it seems like I'm about to fall asleep I'd pull my feet away and kiss her, and we would have sex on the couch. I guess we'll never know now, she thought, and tried to keep her face happy even though the pang of longing stung deep.

When Quinn handed her the glass, she hesitated for just a moment. It felt cold under her fingertips from the ice, and it was already starting to build up some condensation. She slowly moved her wrist in a circular motion, and watched and listened as the ice swirled around in the glass. After a few seconds she took a small sip, and was pleasantly surprised by what she tasted. It mostly tasted like Sierra Mist, but there was a little hint of cherry, and a small bite in the back of her throat from the alcohol.

"It's really good," she said, and smiled up at Quinn through her bangs. She didn't know why she felt so suddenly shy, maybe it was the fantasy of the two of them drinking together and then having sex on a couch, but she felt a little embarrassed looking into those hopeful hazel eyes almost as if Quinn would be able to read her mind. She knew it was a silly thought, but Quinn knew all of her looks. It wasn't very long ago that the blonde would be able to take one look at her face, and then tease her relentlessly because she knew Rachel was thinking about sex.

"That's good," she said, and her voice sounded strained, and she was starting to flush. Oh my God, she knows. She knows that I was thinking about something naughty. Stupid imagination, why did you have to give Quinn porn star moans? That isn't realistic at all! She thought, and quickly downed half of the drink. She wanted to laugh when she saw Quinn's eyes grow to twice their normal size. A joke about Quinn maybe being Ms. Pillsbury's long lost daughter sparked in her brain, but she kept it down.

"Just don't drink those too fast," she warned, and busied her hands by putting some ice in a cup, and pouring in a can of coke. She was the designated tonight, and all she wanted to do was have a shot to calm down her body's reaction to the look Rachel kept giving her. "It's easy to get drunk off of sweet drinks because the alcohol kind of sneaks up on you." Rachel nodded, but quickly finished off the contents of her glass.

"Wow, Quinn, you trying to get Berry drunk already? Nice," their heads whipped around when they heard Santana's voice. She and Brittany were walking in through the back door, and the blonde's hair looked a little disheveled. No one else would be able to tell, but Rachel had watched as the blonde curled it, and they weren't as neat as they were when they left the house. She and Santana had definitely been up to no good, and she desperately tried to keep those thoughts at bay.

"Oh, ha-ha," she said in a humorless tone. Rachel took a few steps forward until she was standing next to Quinn. She couldn't help but smile when she noticed that Santana and Brittany were holding hands. It may not look like much, but it was something the brunette girl had refused to do before out of fear of everyone finding out the real nature of her relationship with Brittany. Before Rachel could say anything, Quinn looked down at Santana's mouth and said, "Santana, you got a little something." She wiped at the corner of her own mouth with a smirk on her face and Rachel's eyes went wide as she waited for Santana's reaction.

"Oh, whatever, bitch. You don't even know what you're talking about," she said with a wicked gleam in her eyes. She looked over at Rachel, and her dark eyes slowly trailed up and down the diva's body. Rachel tensed, her breath caught in her chest, and she wanted to hold onto Quinn's hand. She felt like she was being stalked by a predator and it made all of the baby fine hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. "Unless you do. Does she know what she's talking about, Rachel? You can tell me, it's just us girls here."

Rachel froze. She knew exactly what Santana was talking about, and even though she and Quinn had never reached that level of intimacy with each other, she didn't want to just blurt that out. Even though they were broken up, Rachel was still very protective of their memories. No one else needed to know what they did with each other, to each other, and she certainly wasn't going to say it so Santana could tease Quinn. When she felt Quinn's hand gently rest against the small of her back, she relaxed a little.

"Hey, speak for yourself. Puckasaurus is one hundred percent man," he said, drawing Santana's attention away from Rachel. The little brunette was glad to be out from under her gaze. She looked over at Quinn and the blonde was giving her a small smile. She had a feeling she was apologizing for her friend, though she wouldn't say it out loud. Any apologies for Santana would be pointless since she just wouldn't understand why Rachel had felt so uncomfortable.

"Oh, trust me, I know you are," she said to him with a flirty smile on her face. Rachel glanced up at Brittany and the taller blonde didn't seem bothered by it, and she wasn't the type of person to hold her feelings back. Then Santana got a look on her face, like she just realized what she had done, and she brought Brittany's hand up to her mouth and gave the back of it a little kiss. The blonde's face lit up with a huge smile, and Rachel had to bite her tongue from saying anything. "Did you get the tequila I like?"

"Under the sink, and you owe me body shots, Santana. You have no idea what I had to do to get it," he said, and took a large swig from the red cup in his hand. Rachel was a little jealous as she watched him. Her glass was empty, but Quinn had warned her not to drink them too fast. She was starting to feel the buzz from the alcohol, she felt hot, and a little dizzy but in a really good way, and a smile slowly crept onto her face and she couldn't make it go away.

"Don't worry, Puck, you'll get your entertainment," Santana said with a quiet chuckle, and the other two moved out of her way when she let go of Brittany's hand and made her way towards the sink. Rachel's eyes couldn't help but wander as the other girl bent down to fetch the bottle. She hissed in pain, and looked over at Quinn with a frown when she elbowed Rachel's ribs. They weren't together anymore, Quinn didn't have a right to tell her who she could and couldn't stare at. But then she looked up and noticed Brittany frowning at her.

"Quinn, lets go dance," she said, and grabbed onto the blonde's wrist. Embarrassment caused her face to flush, and she hoped it wasn't too noticeable. Fortunately she had the excuse the alcohol provided if someone did point it out. She fled from the room, and didn't look back. She wasn't sure if it was true or just her imagination, but she swore she could feel Brittany's blue eyes piercing holes in the back of her head as she left.

"Wow, I never thought I would see the day Rachel Berry ran away with her tail between her legs," Quinn said with a loud laugh as they stood near the stairs. There weren't very many people in that area, but it was louder in here from the music and the noise from people trying to talk to each other over the other sounds.

"You should know better than anyone that I don't have a tail," she said with a giggle, and toyed with the ends of her hair. It was put back, but some of it was loose, and she loved it. It had taken a while for Brittany to get it just right, but she was definitely going to let the others help her get ready before going out again. She had no idea makeup and some clothes could make her feel so sexy and confident.

"Oh my God, you are such a lightweight," the blonde said with a loud chuckle, and Rachel immediately began to pout. "Oh no, don't start with that. It isn't going to work on me anymore. I'm immune to its power." Rachel looked up at her through her eyelashes and fluttered them a few times. Quinn just rolled her eyes and took a sip of her soda. When it became obvious that the blonde wasn't going to apologize for laughing, she let out a little huff and dropped the act.

"What the hell, Quinn? You could never resist my pout before. What happened?" she asked, and watched as Quinn's expression changed a bit. She became a little tense, and her eyebrows furrowed a little. She looked into her cup, staring at the soda as if it held the answers and would tell her what to say.

"I couldn't resist before because it was just an excuse to kiss you," she said, and blushed. Her cheeks and ears turned a deep red, and Rachel wasn't too sure how to feel about that. There was no way she was going to tease the blonde, even with the alcohol flowing through her veins she wasn't that dumb yet. Instead she cleared her throat, and looked around the room.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom before the line gets too long," she said, and made a hasty retreat. Way to go Rachel. You're supposed to be letting loose and having fun. You've only been here for half and hour and you've already offended Brittany, and made Quinn feel really sad. It's like I have a little black cloud of disaster following me around everywhere I go. Ok, I need to stop being so dramatic. It wasn't that big of a deal. I'll just say sorry to Brittany when I see her, and maybe I should only talk to Quinn when the others are around. They stop me from saying really stupid things.

There was already a line when she got to the bathroom, and she leaned against the wall while she waited. It seemed to take forever as it slowly diminished, and by the time she got to the door she really did have to pee. When it was her turn to go inside, she shut the door with a loud thump, and locked it. She glanced down at her phone as she carefully pulled up the hem of the dress, and she let out an annoyed huff. Standing in line for twenty five minutes was not ok. She was going to have to complain to Puck about this later.

When she was finished, she washed her hands and put her phone back in her bra. It was a little trick Santana taught her while in the car, and though she thought it was totally ridiculous, she was grateful for it now. She made her way out into the hall and groaned in annoyance. There were only two people standing out there now when before the line stretched all the way back to the living room. Maybe I should consider that karma for staring at Santana's ass and just move on, she thought, and went back into the kitchen.

She made herself another drink, and smiled when she heard the song suddenly change. She had no idea what song it was, had never heard it before in her life, but she just knew that Brittany had been the one to change it. It had a great beat, something the blonde would be able to dance to, and she was curious as to how much of the tequila the other girl had in her system. If she had three shots that probably meant she was letting others take body shots off of her. If she had four or five shots then Santana would be getting a nice show right about now.

There were a couple of people already in the kitchen that she didn't recognize, and by the way they were looking at her - with interest, but without the surprise - she knew they didn't go to McKinley. She gave them a polite smile, and made another drink. This time she added two shots, and a little more soda. Quinn had warned her to take it easy, but as long as she sipped at this one, it wouldn't affect her too much. She took a little taste, and coughed. The alcohol was definitely stronger, its bite a little harsher, but it still tasted sweet.

She hummed along with the song as she walked out of the kitchen. Her eyebrows furrowed a little when she didn't see Quinn standing by the stairs. She had expected the other girl to be waiting for her, and was confused for a minute. Right, I took forever in the bathroom, and then went to the kitchen. I hope she doesn't think I just blew her off because things got a little awkward. If we ran away every time things got awkward we never would have started dating. The first time we made out at my house was nothing but awkward. Maybe that's why our relationship failed so hard, we got too comfortable with each other when awkward moments is what held us together.

She laughed a little and took another sip. She looked around the room, hoping to spot Quinn in the crowd even though she wasn't tall enough to see over most of the people in her way. She saw Brittany and Santana, and she couldn't help but laugh. Santana was holding the bottle of tequila in her hand and carefully pouring some into Brittany's mouth while the two stood on the makeshift dance floor. Despite her efforts to be careful, some of the clear liquid spilled out the corner of Brittany's mouth. She quickly swallowed and coughed before bursting into very loud laughter. Rachel couldn't help but smile at how happy and free the two of them looked.

Santana laughed for a second too, then she leaned forward and licked the alcohol off Brittany's throat. A few of the boys and even some of the girls surrounding them cheered, but they were ignored. She was too caught up in the smell of Brittany, in the taste of Brittany and the tequila on her tongue, and she couldn't care less who saw them. As soon as she pulled back from Brittany's throat she kissed her, which got a much louder cheer from the people watching them, but she simply put her middle finger up and waved her hand around.

Rachel laughed at that, and took another sip of her own drink. She was starting to feel really lightheaded and warm, and she liked the way it felt. It reminded of her cold winter nights curled up in front of the hearth, wrapped in a light blanket and watching Barbra, or reading a book. She hated that her relationship with Quinn didn't last to see the winter. They would have curled up next to the hearth together, and Quinn would have read out loud to her. She would have read the classics, but also the weird fantasy things she would never admit to liking to anyone but Rachel. Gaiman, Hobb, and Marin were all tucked away under her bed like a dirty secret, while Austin, Carrol, and Kipling were proudly displayed on her bookshelf.

Just when she was about to go out onto the dance floor and join her friends now that they were actually dancing, something flashed in the corner of her eye. She turned her head, and was a little confused at what she saw. It was Quinn standing on the side of the room and she was leaning against the wall. There was a boy next to her, and they were talking. More specifically, he was talking and she was laughing at whatever was coming out of his mouth.

Rachel didn't recognize him at all. He was tall, white with blondish brown hair, and he was cute. He wasn't the hottest boy she had ever seen, but he had a boy next door quality to him that was sure to appeal to a certain type of girl. Rachel thought about Quinn and Finn walking down the halls together hand in hand, or his ape like arm resting on her shoulders, and her blood began to boil. Quinn was definitely the kind of girl who was attracted to the boy next door types. Hell, even the girl next door types caught her eye. Rachel was a girl next door type, it was all the proof she needed to know she was right.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she made her way across the room. The closer she got to the two, the bigger her smile became. She didn't want to make Quinn mad, and starting a fight with a boy she didn't know would probably make the other girl angry. She didn't have any experience to go by, or any data to fall back on, but she was sure that starting fights at parties was something that was frowned upon, especially if you're fighting over an ex. That was just tacky and lame, and something Rachel wasn't thinking about doing at all.

When she was a few feet away, her shoe caught on the carpet and she stumbled a little. She laughed, and bumped into Quinn. She steadied herself by wrapping an arm around Quinn's shoulders, and the surprised blonde grabbed onto Rachel's waist to try and hold her up. Luckily both of their cups were almost empty so nothing was spilled. Rachel took a moment to make sure her legs were steady, but she didn't let go of Quinn just in case she fell again.

"Hi, Quinn. I'm so sorry I took so long. The line to the bathroom was insane. I don't think I've ever seen anything like that before," she said, and smiled up at her friend. Friends, they were just friends now and that thought should make her sad. It should make her want to scream and cry and curse God and whoever else was involved in breaking them apart. She should feel that way, but she didn't. Instead it just made her laugh a little. It was such a weird concept, being friends with an ex. As friends did they really expect to be able to hang out and not pretend that they knew what the other looked like when they had an orgasm?

"It's ok. I danced with Santana and Brittany for one song, and then I saw Christopher," she said, and looked over at the boy with an apologetic smile. Why was she looking sorry? Was she sorry because she was going to ditch him now that Rachel was back or was she sorry because his haircut was totally lame and she didn't want to say the words and make him feel bad? Rachel didn't think she would have a problem saying the words as long as her tongue cooperated and her teeth stayed out of the way.

"Hello, Christopher," she said, and held her hand out. It meant that she had to let go of Quinn to switch her cup to her other hand, which made her sad, but she was still standing close enough to the other girl that if she really wanted to she could lean her head on her shoulder. She wondered if Christopher would like that or not. He probably would. Then again maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he wanted to have his head on Quinn's shoulder. It was a good shoulder, right next to a long neck that was perfect for kissing and nibbling on. She was sure that's exactly what Christopher wanted and it made her hate him even more than that freckle right next to his perfect nose. Really, how could a boy next door type be so perfect looking? "I'm Rachel."

"Hi, Rachel," he said with a smile, and she wanted to squeeze his hand until she crushed his bones. He even had perfect teeth, all straight and pearly white, and she wanted to fix that by breaking a few. "I don't think I've ever seen you before. Do you go to school with Quinn?" His voice was a little grating, but that was probably because he had to talk a little louder in order to be heard over the music. Rachel wanted to laugh. He clearly had no idea who she was if he was asking that question, which meant Quinn had told him nothing.

"Yeah, we're in glee club together. And a couple other classes," she said, and she wanted to keep going. She wanted to say, 'And I used to put my hand up her skirt, but over the underwear because we weren't ready for that yet'. She wanted to tell him about the intense kissing, and the long afternoons curled up on her bed where they would spill their secrets. She wanted to tell him that looking into Quinn's eyes was like looking into a mystery wrapped in an enigma, and tied together with a riddle, but she didn't. Mostly because she was sure her teeth would get in the way that time.

"That's awesome," he said, and took a sip of his drink. "I'm in glee club at my school too. I think we're going to be competing this year. We've never won our sectionals, but I'm going to be captain in the fall so we'll be more organized." Rachel laughed and brought her glass up to her mouth, and tried to take a sip. She frowned when she was met with nothing but ice. She quickly forgot about it, however, and looked up at Christopher who was smiling at her but trying to hide it.

"Are you scoping out the competition?" she said with a smile. She wanted to be flirty. Maybe if Quinn thought she was flirting with him she would be the one to get mad and grab Rachel by the arm and drag her away. Overcome with jealousy, the blonde would force her up the stairs and slam the door to one of the bedrooms and lock it so no one would be able to interrupt them. She would accuse Rachel of flirting with someone else when she was still in love with her. When Rachel would argue and say that she was just being friendly, Quinn would interrupt by grabbing onto her face and kissing her. And clothes would come off and Quinn's fingers would be inside her and all would be right with the world.

"Because I'm captain of the New Directions and we've never lost sectionals since I took over," she said, and couldn't help the smug smile that formed on her lips. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Quinn roll her eyes but she ignored it. She was probably just getting jealous because Rachel was getting better at flirting with people. She had plenty of practice talking to Quinn, and doing so with a boy couldn't be much different, she was sure of it.

"I've seen you guys perform. You're really good," he said, and then looked over at Quinn with a bashful smile on his face. "In my opinion, you don't use one of your best singers enough, and it's a shame because she has an amazing voice." A frown appeared on Rachel's face, though she wasn't aware of it. How did he know that Quinn was an amazing singer? Did she just go around singing to random people that she met? That seemed a little odd and not like Quinn at all. This boy didn't go to their school, so how did he know Quinn? Was he a creepy stalker and this was the night he was making his move to abduct her and keep her forever?

"I'm sorry, how do you two know each other again? I don't think Quinn's ever mentioned you before," she said and she tried to smile but something was stuck to the inside of her cheek and she couldn't force the muscles to move. Maybe she had a condition she wasn't aware of. Sudden onset nerve damage of the face was a thing, she had read about it on WedMD that one time. That was the reason why she wasn't smiling at him anymore, not because he was looking at Quinn like a lion looking at its next meal.

"We go to church together," Quinn said and very gently placed her hand on the small of Rachel's back. It was more than obvious by the slurred words and the total lack of emotional control that Rachel was drunk. She had warned her to take it easy, but she was either ignored or Rachel simply didn't know what that meant. It wasn't an impossibility since she didn't have much experience with alcohol. Quinn knew she shouldn't have left her side.

"Isn't that nice," Rachel said, and tried to take a sip of her drink, forgetting that it was nothing but ice. A cube of ice slid down the glass and bumped into her nose. She coughed, and wiped the moisture away, and Quinn and Christopher tried not to laugh. "I'm a little clumsy tonight. Guess that drink was stronger than I thought." The music changed again. The song was slow, the beat perfect for dancing close, and Rachel watched as Santana and Brittany began to grind against one another. She wanted that, that feeling of being close to someone, so close that if you weren't wearing clothes it would look like you were having sex.

"Quinn, dance with me," she said, and shoved her empty glass against Christopher's chest. He grabbed it to stop it from falling, and he had a surprised look on his face. She grabbed onto Quinn's wrist and tried to pull her away from him and towards the dance floor. Her shoes must have been replaced with cinder blocks because it didn't matter how hard Rachel pulled the other girl didn't move. She looked up at her with hurt written all over her face, but Quinn didn't look sympathetic at all.

"Rachel, don't be rude. I'm talking to Christopher," she said, and pulled her arm out of Rachel's hand. The brunette looked at her with a very confused expression. Quinn had never done anything like that before. There was something seriously wrong going on, but Rachel had no clue what to do about it.

"I'm sorry," she said, and closed her eyes and shook her head for a second. "You're right, that was really rude of me." Quinn smiled at her so she knew she did something right, and she took in a small breath and let it out quickly. "Quinn, will you please dance with me? I really like this song and it's going to be over soon." She didn't know this song at all, but if telling a little white lie would get Quinn away from this Captain America cosplayer than she was willing to do it. She was also starting to think that she was spending too much time with Santana.

"Later, ok? I'll ask Puck to play it again," she said and gave Rachel that look. She hadn't seen that look since the two of them broke up. It was the look that Quinn gave whenever Rachel was in trouble for something. She didn't use it very often, which made it more effective. She could only name four times in their entire relationship that Quinn had used it the first being an accident on Rachel's part when she tried to repeat a joke she had overheard and school and got the punchline wrong, which made the joke sound blatantly sexist and horrible instead of the social commentary it was meant to be.

"But Quinn, we said we would dance together. Don't you remember?" she asked and her bottom lip stuck out. She didn't do it on purpose this time, not like earlier when she was trying to get her way. She was sad that Quinn wouldn't go with her, that she wanted to stand here and talk to this cardboard cut out of a human being, and she had had too much to drink to really control her face. The small pout grew into a frown when Quinn sighed, and her look of irritation turned into a look of anger and annoyance.

"Rachel, I'm not your girlfriend anymore, ok? I don't want to dance with you to that song. It's too...intimate, alright?" she said, and Rachel felt like she had been slapped. Just because Brittany and Santana were practically dry humping in the middle of the room didn't mean that's what they had to do. Just because most of the boys were trying to cop a feel of the girls they were dancing with didn't mean that Rachel's hands would do the same. If anything, Quinn's hands were always the one with the wandering problem.

She was just about to open her mouth and make that excellent point, when they heard the sound of glass shattering and someone screaming. Rachel's head whipped over to the living room being used as a dance floor and what she saw made her jaw drop. Brittany had her arms around Santana's waist and she had lifted her girlfriend off the ground. She was holding her as tight as she could while Santana kicked, and grabbed at Brittany's arms trying to free herself, all the while yelling at some very shocked looking guy in Spanish.

"Mantén tus malditas manos de encima! Juro por Dios que voy a arrancar las pelotas y empujar hacia abajo su garganta. Brittany, déjame ir!" she screamed in anger. The boy put his hands up as if he were saying surrender, and he turned around and started to walk away. That just seemed to enrage Santana even more. "Hey, ¿dónde crees que vas? ¡Vuelve aquí, no he terminado de hablar con usted, imbécil!" No one in the room had any idea what Santana was saying, but that didn't mean they were any less afraid.

"I'm sorry, Christopher, but that's our cue to leave. I'll see you on Sunday, ok?" Quinn said, and grabbed onto Rachel's hand. The brunette was going to protest. She was going to dig her heels into the floor and give Quinn hell. She was going to state in as many words as possible that it wasn't fair for Quinn to just expect her to follow because she simply wanted her to. Like Quinn said, they were broken up, Santana wasn't really her friend because if it wasn't for Quinn than the other girl would still be horrible to her.

She wanted to say all of those things, but the only thing she could really focus on was how soft Quinn's hand was in hers. She laced their fingers together as they marched towards the other two, and she tried to commit the feeling to memory. She had already forgotten what it felt like to hold Quinn's hand, and that always made her sad. At night when she touched herself she always tried to imagine what it would be like if Quinn was holding her hand while she came undone, and she always wanted to cry when she couldn't.

"Brittany!" Quinn yelled when they were ten feet away. It was still crowded but Santana's scene had caused a gap to form. The taller blonde immediately whirled around to face the other two. She looked like she was losing her grip and at any moment Santana would fall to the ground. Rachel was sure she would land on her feet like a cat, and then take off after the boy she had been yelling at. "Come on, it's time to go!"

Brittany simply nodded and put Santana down. Sure enough, she tried to run off in the direction of the Carmel quarterback, but Brittany grabbed onto her arm before she could get more than two steps. She started yelling at her in Spanish, harsh words that Rachel was sure none of them wanted to understand. Brittany pulled Santana to her, and wrapped her arms around her so they were pressed together. Santana was still yelling, so Brittany did the only thing she could think of to quiet her down.

She kissed her. As soon as their lips touched all of Santana's anger and hostility focused on the kiss. She leaned up on her tiptoes to try and get closer. She pulled at Brittany's shirt, but as soon as that happened the blonde pulled away. Santana immediately burst into tears, and Brittany gently led her towards the front door and out to Quinn's car while the other two followed behind her in shocked silence. She knew it was going to be one of the best parties ever, and she had just been proven right.


As soon as Quinn unlocked the car, Brittany pulled the rear passenger side door open, and practically threw Santana in the backseat when her girlfriend refused to get in on her own. Rachel started laughing at the little yelp of surprise the other brunette made, and had to grab onto Quinn's shoulder to stop herself from falling down. Quinn simply rolled her eyes and wrapped an arm around Rachel's waist to help hold her up. I swear, I am never being the designated driver ever again, she thought and helped Rachel into the front passenger seat of her small sedan.

"I'm going to kill that asshole, I swear," Santana stuttered out between her heavy sobs. She wiped at her eyes, smearing her mascara and eyeliner all over her face. "No one grabs your ass but me. We promised, Britt-Britt, we promised we wouldn't let anyone else touch us like that, and I'm going to kill that little fucker." Brittany very gently ran her fingers through her hair, trying to calm her down even though it clearly wasn't working. So she upped her game a little. She started placing small kisses on Santana's temple, and that seemed to do the trick.

"No you're not, Santana. Because if you do you'll go to jail and I'll never get to see you again," she said, and regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth because Santana started crying harder. She shifted in her seat until her legs were pulled up underneath her so she could face the other girl. As soon as she was settled, Santana grabbed at Brittany's top, and pulled her closer. She calmed down a little as soon as the blonde was pressed up against her, the weight and smell of Brittany taking over her senses quieted the feeling of panic.

"You wouldn't visit me if I went to prison?" she asked, her voice strained as she forced the words out around a sob. She ignored Rachel when the other girl couldn't help but laugh again. There was no point paying attention to the Hobbit. This was serious, and she knew nothing about it. "Promise me, Britt, promise you'll visit if I ever go to prison." She even ignored Quinn's confused look when the girl slid into the driver's seat, and quietly shut the door.

"I promise, baby. I'd never just abandon you," Quinn heard Brittany whisper, and Santana hiccupped a little. She watched in the rearview mirror as Santana wrapped one hand around the back of Brittany's neck and pulled her close. The kiss was immediately hard, and needy, and Quinn's eyebrows rose at the intensity of it. She glanced over at Rachel and the other girl had her forehead pressed against the window, and Quinn wasn't sure if she was awake or if she had passed out. Please be awake. I am not strong enough to carry her up a flight of stairs, she thought as she started the car and carefully pulled out into the street.

The drive to Rachel's house was relatively uneventful. She knew that the brunette wasn't asleep because every once in a while she would comment on a house that they passed. Rachel had lived in Lima her whole life, unlike Quinn, so she was able to say things like 'That couple is still married, but they hate each other. The husband is having an affair, and his wife knows, but she just drinks until she forgets', and also 'The little boy that lives there cried when he found a dead bird. It was the sweetest thing I've ever seen'.

Other than her occasional commentary on the neighborhood, the only sounds in the car were the wet smacking sounds of Brittany and Santana making out in the backseat. Quinn wanted to say something, she wanted to tell them to knock it off, she wanted to say that she had just had her upholstery cleaned and they were going to foot the next bill if they weren't careful. However, since she knew Santana was in such a fragile state she kept quiet for fear of the other girl bursting into tears again.

At least the kissing wasn't as intense as it had been when it started. This time when Quinn peaked in the rearview mirror the kissing seemed almost lazy as their lips slowly pressed against each other's. Quinn also couldn't help but notice that they were looking into each other's eyes instead of keeping them closed. A fire burned in her belly as her eyes quickly flicked away from the mirror and back to the road. She and Rachel used to kiss like that, eyes open so they could see the changes their bodies were going through, see the crinkle in the corners if Quinn did something to make Rachel smile. Seeing her friends share that connection caused jealousy and some anger to sear through her veins, and she took a deep, calming breath to try and numb it.

She was saved from any further discomfort when she pulled up to Rachel's house, and parked by the sidewalk. She bit her bottom lip with worry when she saw that the porch light was on, but the rest of the house was pitch black. That meant her fathers had already gone to bed. That meant they were going to have to be really quiet in order to get up the stairs and ready for sleep. That was going to be almost impossible since Quinn was the only one who wasn't half in the bag at the moment.

She shut the car off and unbuckled her seatbelt with a small sigh. A horrified feeling came over her when she realized she was the only one who had been wearing a seatbelt. Images of Rachel and Santana and Brittany lying on the pavement covered in blood and bones sticking out of damaged skin flashed through her mind, and she sent a silent thank you to God for getting them back to Rachel's safely and in one piece.

"Brittany," she said in a gentle tone. Even though all she wanted was to get inside and wash the makeup off her face and go to sleep, she couldn't rush them. If she rushed them Santana would lash out and she didn't have the patience to deal with that right now. "Santana, we're back. It's time to get out." She had plenty of experience dealing with cranky toddlers from her various babysitting jobs, and she discovered last summer that dealing with a drunk and angry Santana is no different than dealing with a little kid who's tired but doesn't want to lie down for a nap. Gentle tones and slow movements are a must.

When the two broke apart, and Santana looked around in order to take in her surroundings, Quinn prayed that she would be quiet for the rest of the night. She was sure if Mr. and Mr. Berry encountered Santana when she was drunk and upset than they would never have the girls over again. They would probably ban Rachel from going out with them ever again, even if it was just to go shopping at the mall. They were forgiving people, but everyone had their limits, and they were very protective of their daughter. She was sure this would create a very firm line in the sand.

"A lonely girl lives here," Rachel said, pointing at her own house. Quinn's breath caught in her chest, and every muscle tensed up. Please not now, Rachel, please just let it, she thought and watched in the mirror as Santana and Brittany very carefully crawled out of the car and loudly slammed the door behind them. "Did you know that no one came to her seventh birthday? Her dads had all kinds of games, and snacks, and set the table up with a Lion King themed cloth, and plates, and paper cups, but no one showed up. Fifteen kids were invited, and no one even bothered to call and say their kid couldn't make it. Can you believe that?"

Although the story made Quinn feel very sad – and made she wanted to travel back in time to slap a bunch of seven year olds, which is a feeling she never thought she would have – she was also slightly relieved. Rachel wasn't talking about their relationship and its implosion, and even though she knew deep down Rachel was still having a hard time with it, she was at least starting to get better. She had become a little clingy with Quinn at the party, jealousy took over, and she tried to force Quinn away from her friend, but that seemed to be normal behavior for a drunken Rachel. She had become clingy and needy the last time she was wasted.

"No one came to my eleventh birthday party," Quinn whispered, and Rachel turned to look at her. Her eyes were bloodshot and she was having trouble focusing on Quinn, but she was paying attention, and Quinn was grateful for that. "I had gained a lot of weight over the summer, and I started to get acne really bad. I also needed braces, and I looked like a freak. None of my friends wanted anything to do with me anymore because they were all pretty, popular girls." She took the keys out of the ignition and did her best to ignore the tears welling up in Rachel's eyes.

"Do you think we would have been friends when we were kids?" Rachel asked, her voice trembling as her nose turned red, and the tears slowly made their way down her cheeks. Quinn bit her bottom lip, wanting nothing more than to reach out and kiss those tears away. She had to force herself to ignore it because Rachel was drunk, needy, emotional, and she couldn't lead her on. That would be the dictionary definition of a dick-move. Instead, she let out a little sigh, grabbed her purse from underneath the seat, and opened the door.

"I don't think my dad would have let us be friends. He wouldn't have let me go over to your house, and there's no way he would have let you come to ours. But we could have been friends just at school. We could have hid behind the slide to have secret meetings, and exchanged snacks, and you could have given me your chocolate milk on Fridays since you're vegan," she said with a small smile on her face. Rachel sniffled, and a large smile appeared on her face. It looked out of place with the red, puffy eyes, runny nose, and tear stained cheeks.

"I would have given you my chocolate milk," she said with a small laugh as she wiped the tears off her face. "And I would have shared my gummy bears at lunch time, but not the red ones. Those are my favorite." Quinn laughed, and when they were both quiet she got caught in Rachel's gaze. She was looking at her with an intensity she hadn't seen in a long time. It made her feel desired, wanted in a way that only Rachel had ever made her feel. Kissing her right now wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, at least not really. She would understand. She would understand that she's so fucking irresistible, and whenever she gives me that look my brain shuts off. She won't hate me for being weak.

Right when she was about to lean in, a loud knock thumped against the back window, completely killing the mood as Quinn and Rachel both jumped. "Hurry up, bitches," Santana said, sounding annoyed. "My feet are fucking killing me." Quinn gave Rachel one last look before she got out of the car and shut the door. She was appreciative that Rachel had the presence of mind to lock the car using the button on the door, preventing the loud beeping noise from happening and potentially waking someone up.

Rachel giggled as she stumbled a little. The shoes were uncomfortable and felt really tight. She just wanted them off. Why were they even on her feet in the first place? She was sure it had been some sort of hazing tactic Santana probably insisted on. She couldn't have been the first girl they'd given a makeover to, and forced her to wear ridiculously high heels. She was willing to admit that they made her ass and legs look amazing, but that wasn't worth the pain. It wasn't like she had anyone to appreciate it anyway, so what was the point of making her ass look even better if no one was there to touch it? She couldn't see one in sight.

She made her way towards the house, stumbling and almost falling the whole way. She tried to be quiet, but it was just so funny how gravity was working against her. When they left the house she was able to walk without a problem, and now she felt like a toddler trying to learn to walk. It was just so crazy, and she couldn't understand it. She stopped laughing when she felt a warm arm wrap around her waist. She looked over, and her whole face lit up in a huge smile when she saw Quinn's pretty face looking down at her with a little frown. That wasn't right, Quinn wasn't supposed to frown. She used to frown all the time before they started dating, and then she was happier, and smiled more, and Rachel felt so proud knowing that smile was because of her. So where did it go?

"You have to be quiet, Rachel. You're going to wake your dads up," she said in a strained whisper. Quinn had been acting strange all night. First she didn't want anything to do with Rachel, ditching her for that Christopher boy, and now she was hanging all over her? She really wished Quinn would make up her mind about something already. It would certainly make things between them easier. Before she could voice that opinion, a noise behind her caught her attention. She stopped walking in order to turn in look because she was sure if she tried to walk and look over her shoulder she would fall. What she saw made her smile. Brittany was carrying Santana in her arms like a bride, and she was speaking to her in a low tone.

"Aww, it looks like they're getting married. Look, Quinn, they're on their honeymoon!" Rachel yelled and burst out laughing at her own joke. Quinn shushed her, or at least she tried to, as they began walking towards the door again. She didn't see what the big deal was. They were outside, after all, it wasn't like the noise could get indoors. It wasn't tangible. She tried to tell Quinn that, but her teeth got in the way, and she couldn't get her tongue to move the way it was supposed to when making those kinds of words.

"Rachel, please be quiet. Your dads will kill me if they see you like this," Quinn said, as she took Rachel's keys and unlocked the door. Rachel just hummed and rested her head against Quinn's shoulder. She looked up at her, her blonde hair framing her face, her hazel eyes looked green in the darkness, but the little frown on her face was ruining the moment. Why was Quinn always so serious all the time? Even Rachel knew how to let go and have fun every once in a while.

"They wouldn't kill you if we got married too, Quinn, like Brittany and Santana," she said, and stood up as straight as she could when Quinn opened the door. She stumbled inside, and took in a deep breath to try and calm down. She was starting to feel dizzy, and not in a good way like she did before. She started off towards the stairs, but Quinn's hand on her wrist stopped her. She turned around to see what the problem was, but Quinn was just standing there staring at her.

"Let's take your shoes off before you try to walk up the stairs," she said, and leaned down. She carefully grabbed onto Rachel's ankle and lifted her foot off the floor. Rachel had to grab onto the banister to stop herself from falling, but she kept quiet. She looked up the stairs and was glad that there weren't any lights on. No lights meant her dads were already in bed. Even if they were awake and listening in, they wouldn't come out unless they thought something was really wrong.

With both of the shoes off and lying on the floor besides the stairs, she carefully walked up the stairs towards her bedroom. Quinn was right next to her, hand on the small of her back in case the brunette needed help balancing. Rachel wanted to let her know that feeling her hand right there was making her a little weak in the knees, but she wanted that feeling more than she feared falling down. If it were up to her they would stop on the stairs, and Quinn would run that warm soft hand over her back, and maybe even scratch at the back of her neck like she used to do when they would kiss.

"Hurry up, Rachel. You're walking too freaking slow," she heard Santana bark behind her, and it pulled her out of her thoughts. She took in a deep breath because arguing with the other girl wouldn't be a good idea, not when they were so close to her fathers' room. She simply smiled when Brittany shushed her, and Santana mumbled something under her breath. Even though she was smiling, hearing those two interact made her feel a little sad. That was supposed to be her and Quinn. They were supposed to be the ones arguing like a married couple. They were supposed to be the ones stumbling up the stairs after making out in the backseat of a car. It just wasn't fair.

"Ok, here we go," Quinn said, and opened Rachel's bedroom door. Brittany had to put a hand over Santana's mouth when the other girl laughed when she saw the gold star with Rachel's name in the middle. "I swear, you guys are worse than little kids." The image of a drunk, toddler sized Santana stumbling up the stairs clinging onto Brittany's leg made Rachel laugh, and she bit her lips to stop the noise from getting too loud. She couldn't wake up her dads, not when they were so close to getting away with drinking when she was explicitly told not to.

As soon as they were inside, Quinn dropped Rachel down onto her bed, and she giggled as she fell against the mattress. She watched as Brittany guided Santana to the other side of the bed, and Quinn pulled some extra blankets and pillows out of her closet for them to build a bed with. She never thought something like this would ever happen. As soon as she met the Unholy Trinity freshman year of high school she wanted to be friends with them - sometimes she even wanted to be one of them - but she never thought it would actually happen. Now here she was, buzzed after a night of drinking with her new friends, and they were going to sleep over at her house because they were too drunk to drive.

"Are you three seriously going to sleep in your makeup?" Quinn asked when she walked back into the bedroom. Her face was freshly washed, and she was wearing a pair of Rachel's pajamas, which were a little too tight on her, but they were still comfortable. All she received as a reply were three groans, but they all got up and made their way into the bathroom so she didn't mind that they had reverted back to caveman like communication instead of using their words. She knew Rachel was going to be feeling too awful to get her own bed ready to sleep in, so while the diva was gone, she moved the pillows around and pulled the blanket and top sheet down. I swear, if I didn't care about her so much I wouldn't do this crap for her. Who would've thought she would be such a brat when she's drunk?

"Look, Brittany, Quinn made up their wedding bed," Santana said with a bark of laughter. Brittany tried not to laugh while shushing Santana at the same time, and the noise that came out of her mouth sounded like something between a hiss and a hum. When Santana didn't stop laughing, Brittany grabbed onto her face and kissed her. It seemed to be the only thing that quieted her down. Santana just smiled and wrapped her arms around Brittany's neck. "Hmmm, take me to our bed, baby. I needs me some lovin'." Quinn couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"You guys know you're not sleeping alone, right?" she asked, and watched as Rachel walked slowly into the room, rubbing at her eyes and yawning widely. "Rachel and I are sleeping in here too." Santana didn't even bother looking at her, and Quinn wanted to throw Rachel's hot glue gun at her. She forgot how much of a dick Santana could be when she was drunk, but at least she wasn't as talkative. She was glad she was spared her cutting insults and verbal spars.

"Yeah, good luck with that," Santana said, and laughed once more when Brittany pulled her down onto the pile of blankets on the floor. Quinn just rolled her eyes, a little annoyed that her friends would be so thoughtless. Being drunk wasn't that much of an excuse for bad behavior. But then she smiled in victory when Brittany said the word 'no', and Santana whined like a child about needing some love, but Brittany didn't relent.

Rachel let out a little sigh as she laid down in her bed, and pulled the covers over her body. Her head felt like it had lead or maybe mercury inside of it, and as soon as it hit the pillow she felt a huge sense of relief. She closed her eyes for a second, ready to fall into a blissful sleep, but something was wrong. Her closet door slid open, and she could hear someone shuffling around. She opened her eyes, and she saw Quinn digging through probably looking for more blankets and a pillow. She let out an annoyed sigh and pulled back the covers on the other side of the bed.

"Quinn, just sleep in the bed tonight," she said, and the other girl froze. Rachel watched as the blonde slowly turned around and looked at with her apprehensive written all over her expressive face. Rachel wanted to roll her eyes, but it would have taken too much effort. "The bed is big enough for two people to sleep comfortably, Quinn. I promise to stay on my side." She knew she sounded annoyed, but the alcohol still in her system made her not care. Instead she closed her eyes, and listened. It took a few seconds, but Quinn slowly made her way over to the bed, being careful not to step on Santana and Brittany, and crawled under the covers.

"See, it's not that big of a deal," Rachel said with a smug smirk on her face. She opened her eyes just a crack when she felt Quinn squirming around. She couldn't help the little smile on her face as she watched the other girl try to get comfortable. It was kind of cute, seeing Quinn in her pink pajamas with white clouds and gold stars. Her hair was pulled back in a sloppy bun, and she wasn't wearing any makeup. Rachel couldn't even remember the last time she saw Quinn without makeup on, which probably meant the answer was 'never'.

"I'm sorry, am I bothering you?" Quinn whispered when she noticed Rachel staring. Rachel just shook her head no, and rolled over until she was lying on her stomach with her head turned so she could look at the other girl. "I'll stop moving around so much." Rachel just let out a little sigh, and closed her eyes. She was really sleepy, and warm, and she still felt really light as if her body could float away at any moment. It made her snuggle deeper into her covers just in case it tried.

"Hey, Rach?" Quinn whispered, and Rachel wanted to groan, but fought back the urge. This was part of the sleepover experience, she was sure of it. Staying up into the last hours of the night and whispering back and forth when really you're supposed to be sleeping.

"Yeah, Quinn?" she asked, trying to keep her voice low, but she wasn't sure exactly how well she was doing at controlling it. Every part of her body felt like it had a mind of its own.

"I'm really glad we're friends now. I know we were never friends, at least not really, but I'm glad we're making it work," she said with a sleepy smile on her face. Rachel really wanted to reach out and caress her face like she would have been able to do if they were still together. Dammit, you have got to stop thinking that way. She's not my girlfriend anymore, so just deal with it, she thought, and smiled back.

"I'm glad we're friends now too. I know it's going to sound a little weird, but I don't think we would have been able to be friends without dating first. It gave us a chance to really get to know each other, and I don't think we would have given each other the chance before," she said, and yawned so wide she heard one of her ears pop.

"Yeah, you're probably right," Quinn said, and was quiet for a few minutes. Rachel thought maybe she was finished whispering secrets in the dark, so she closed her eyes and let her mind go numb. "My mom actually tried to give me a talk before I left. She said something about just because there's going to be alcohol and you're going to be there it isn't an excuse to behave inappropriately. It's almost like she's forgotten I've had a baby. Doesn't get any more inappropriate than that, right?" She tried to sound lighthearted and joking about it, but Rachel could hear the sadness behind the words.

"She's just looking out for you, Quinn," she said, opened her eyes. Quinn was looking back at her with a little bit of skepticism. "You're lucky, to have a mom that's looking out for you. You want to know what my mom did?" Quinn hesitated, biting her bottom lip as if she were debating whether or not she wanted to know. Coming to a decision, she nodded slowly, and braced herself.

"She answered an ad in the paper and rented her womb out for nine months until I was born, then when she couldn't have any more babies she tracked me down, and then rejected me. Then she adopted Beth, and I haven't heard a word from her since. Judy isn't perfect and she's messed up a lot, but she has the best of intentions and she's trying. That's better than what some of us have," she said, and rolled over until she was on her back, staring at the ceiling and not looking into those perfect hazel eyes. She didn't want Quinn's pity, and she was afraid she'd spoken too frankly and that's all she would see now. Why did the alcohol have to loosen her tongue so much?

"If it makes any difference, your dads are better parents then most parents are. I mean, they wanted you so bad they hired a surrogate before even doing that was socially acceptable," she heard Quinn whisper, and she nodded her head in agreement. Her dads were great, but they just didn't understand certain things. All Rachel could think about was that morning she woke up and it looked like someone had been murdered in her bed. She panicked and tried to throw away the sheets before her dads saw the mess, but they were already in the kitchen. They tried to talk to her about becoming a woman, about how her body was changing and it was God's gift because it meant one day she would be able to have babies too. She didn't feel like a woman at all. All she felt was embarrassed and grossed out.

After a few minutes of quiet, Rachel's eyebrows furrowed when she heard something odd. It was a wet, smacking sound, and it was shortly followed by a moan. Her eyes went wide, and she looked over at Quinn, who didn't seem to notice anything weird at all. The noise didn't stop. It didn't get any louder, which she was thankful for, but she could still hear it, and a rustling sound, like maybe the blankets were moving.

"Quinn," she whispered and turned her head so she was looking at the other girl with wide, almost scared eyes. "Please tell me they're not having sex on my floor." Her voice trembled and she wasn't sure why. It shouldn't have been that big of a deal. She knew what sex was, a couple of times she had even come close to having it with Quinn. So she shouldn't have been weirded out at the thought of Brittany and Santana doing whatever it was Brittany and Santana did that they called sex. But she was. She wanted to kick them out of the room and burn it down because those blankets and that patch of carpet would never be the same.

"I can't do that, Rachel," Quinn said with a little smirk on her face. "Before we even started dating when we were just exploring, I told you I was going to work on not lying anymore so I'm sorry, but I can't tell you that they're not having sex because it would be wrong." She wanted to laugh at the horrified look on Rachel's face, but she was able to keep it under control. Rachel was about to sit up and scream at them to get out of her house and sleep in Quinn's car, but she never got the chance.

"Dios mio, we're not fucking, we're just kissing. You two should stop gossiping like a couple of thirteen year olds and do it too. You're both good kissers," Santana said, louder than she probably intended to. It was followed by a slap that sounded like it stung. Rachel winced in sympathy, but Santana just laughed. She was about to tell her to be quiet, but Brittany silenced her with another kiss.

Rachel looked over at Quinn again and the blonde was blushing. Rachel didn't really want to know what she was thinking about. Given Santana's comment she was either thinking about of the times they had made out right here on this same bed, or she was thinking about the night of Rachel's house party when she and Santana played spin the bottle and made out in front of everyone. The brunette couldn't help but smile. That was the night she told everyone about their relationship. Granted, she was yelling at Santana for getting too handsy, but it still counted.

"Wait," Brittany's voice rang out into the silence. Rachel caught Quinn's eye because the taller blonde did not sound too happy at that moment. Did Santana try to do something that Brittany didn't want? Did she try to put her hand in an inappropriate place and now Brittany was upset? Rachel had no idea what the friendship protocol for that would be. "How do you know Rachel is a good kisser? When did you guys make out?" Rachel's eyes went wide, and she pulled the covers over her head. Well, so much for getting a good night's sleep, she thought as she tried as hard as she could to have the earth open up and swallow her.