Faberry (We Might Fall Hard, We Might Fall Fast)

9

As far as Sunday afternoons went, this was one of the better ones Quinn had in a long while. It wasn't that she was doing anything exciting, she was just happy.

She was currently lying on Rachel's bed, a hundred pages into one of the crappiest books she'd ever had the misfortune to pick up, and due to some weird compulsion, she had to finish it no matter how bad it was. She paused when she got to the end of the paragraph and looked up at the Diva who was sitting at the foot of the bed, tapping a pen against her teeth and starring at her homework.

"Having problems?" The blonde asked with a chuckle.

"No." Rachel said leaning back. "I'm almost done, just working out my conclusion. Which isn't as easy in Spanish." The brunette gave her a smile, then it disappeared quickly and she furrowed her brow. "Santana and Brittany will be here soon, I should try and finish it by then. Santana can be quite a distraction."

"Don't worry. You'll learn to drown her out when you need to. She has a tendency to yammer on like a mean, cantankerous old lady sometimes, I dread to think what she'll be like when she actually gets old."

"She might mellow out. Being a teenager is a very confusing and emotionally volatile time in your life, there's a good chance once her body has settled, she'll be a relatively normal person."

"Maybe, but I don't think the snark will ever go away. Anyway, finish your Spanish. I've got a shitty book to try and wade through before they get here."

Rachel chuckled. "Okay. Good luck."

"Thanks."

She turned the page of her book, and couldn't remember if she'd actually finished the last page. Not that it really mattered with this tripe; she realized early on that she could skip whole paragraphs without missing anything. She also learned that changing the main characters names to Butt-Breath and Poo-Head made it all the more entertaining. She was easily amused that way. However it was difficult concentrating on something she didn't care about, when something she did care about was sitting in front of her. She continued to hold up the book as she sneaked a look at the other girl.

After yesterday's realization, her brain had gone into voyeuristic overdrive. Every opportunity she had, she would watch the other girl. At first she had whole conversations with herself about how weird and perverted she was being, then she would counter argue that with 'boys do it all the time'. There were many internal discussions about whether she was gay, because she had no indication until now that she was, but then there was no real reason to think she was straight either.

That was yesterday though and when she'd woken up this morning, after having a very R rated dream about Rachel, she figured she might as well just let Charlie off his leash because there was clearly no controlling him. Of course now he was swaggering around like he owned the place, so she decided to give him the official title of Mayor Charlie of Naughty-Thought-Ville. She'd probably put too much thought into that, but she'd kind of grown fond of the little bastard.

The problem with letting him run riot inside her brain was that she was now constantly frustrated. And the fact that she'd been starring at Rachel's chest for the last minute was a clear indication of that. She thumped the book she'd been pretending to read against her head a few times, hoping that might knock some self control into her, but all that happened was that she drew Rachel's attention and before the Diva had a chance to question the reason for her literary assault, the doorbell went.

"I'll get it." She said jumping off the bed, thankful for the distraction. She gave Rachel a smile as she left the room, and headed downstairs.

"You know what pisses me off?" Santana grumbled as soon as Quinn opened the front door.