This was written for a kink_meme prompt and posted on my site a couple months ago. A lot of you have already read it, but I figured I would put it up here as well. :) Enjoy.

Day 1 started the same as all her other days. In fact, she'd spent the past twenty-five seconds berating a freshman for blinking in her direction; things were just as they always were. But then it happened: her favorite pastime walked into Glee. Sure, pastimes tended to be things like baseball (for America), futbol (for the rest of the world), shouting in excitement (for Oprah), and Saturday morning cartoons (for children not subjected to Sue at age five for Cheerio-Breeding Camp). Not for Quinn, though.

Rachel Berry was her favorite pastime: knocking her down, raining slushy over those doe eyes, stealing back any boy she thought she had enough clout to steal from Quinn in the first place. The list was endless, really: endless, glorious, bulleted, ten point, helevetica based heaven.

It actually hung inside her locker when she was thirteen and new to this routine. The first time Berry crossed her path in second grade, a ninety second moment between the pair almost sent their relationship on a completely different path for the future. Quinn needed a pencil. Rachel had a pink one.

After hesitating, Quinn asked to borrow it, shyly pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Of course Rachel offered it, among an array of other color choices while explaining how pink was the still the best, and smiled that token Rachel Berry smile that even at age seven threatened to knock her ears off her face. Quinn took the pink, eager to make a new friend. She already liked Rachel and her cute front-bow, polka dot dress. She liked her headband. She liked how she was always jumping around the room, prancing down the halls, and singing song after song. Quinn just liked her; they seemed like the perfect best friend fit.

And then her father happened. The second the name of her new soon-to-be-best friend left her lips that night at the dinner table, the calm, cool, and collected raise of her father's right hand halted any further conversation.

"Not acceptable, Quinnie," he said. She asked why. His hand slowly dropped back to the table and then she was told "why" was to never be her in vocabulary when it came to her father's wishes. That was enough for her in second grade. She never asked for a pencil again. And then her priest showed the same response to the mention of Rachel and her fathers. That was enough for Quinn in fifth grade. Then Sue fully entered her life, pledged greatness for everything and she, too, denied Rachel. That was enough for Quinn in seventh grade.

You see, her upbringing practically engrained it in her DNA to deny Rachel Berry, not that she was looking for an explanation. She didn't need one. Because sometime during her freshman year, Quinn started finding it fun, really fun. Who knew slushy facials could be such art?

But something changed today, what Quinn would eventually refer to as Day 1. Rachel blew into glee like she always did, head held high, energy exploding, and that damn smile still threatening to knock her ears off. Quinn scowled as her eyes slowly took the girl in, her abrasive presence never capable of being ignored. That's when she saw them: the suspenders that would ruin her way of life.

They were black, starkly standing out against Rachel's white button down. They were tight and Rachel's breasts almost seemed to deny them the ability to lay flat against her front. So instead, they hugged taut against either edge, only allowing relief once they rounded the peaks and headed straight from Rachel's never ending black slacks. They clipped tight. So tight. The symmetry of it all was just... astounding... to Quinn.

Perfect, she thought. They were perfect.

And then she realized she hadn't taken a breath in 45 seconds. The swimming feeling in her brain told her so. She inhaled deeply and stupid Rachel Berry was now floating towards her, looking oh so curious with that goddamn (forgive her, Father) smile and that goddamn symmetry staring her down.

"Quinn? Why are you... leering at me?"

That's all it took to pull Quinn back from her momentary lapse of sanity.

"No one is ever going to leer at you, Berry," she huffed and recoiled in her seat. It felt good. It felt right. Ah, life back to normal. The dejection on the girl's face didn't go unnoticed and neither did the slight pang of regret in the pit of Quinn's heel. Yes, her human emotions burrowed that low.

Day 28 started much like Day 1 with a few exceptions. For reasons only due to certain symmetry, Quinn's HBICness towards one Rachel Berry slackened over the last four weeks. Slackened, Quinn knew, was far different from dissipated so she was semi okay with this new develop. She still had it, she just, you know, didn't access it as much. It didn't mean she wasn't still Quinn Fabray. And besides, she was semi okay with this new development mainly because it all went back to symmetry and that was something Quinn just could not get out of her head.

It haunted her dreams. It haunted the backs of her eyelids. She even spent fifteen minutes one afternoon in math class attempting to prevent her eyes from blinking because every time she did, she saw those suspenders, those curves, those edges, and that goddamn symmetry. Her eyes dried out pretty quickly. The pain felt good, oddly.

She found herself in a routine of not blinking, hardly sleeping, and overall avoiding one Rachel Berry. She was taking a break from her favorite pastime. And who would care? Everyone has an off season.

The days went on like this until the pain subsided. The images subsided. Four weeks was like a year in high school time, much like dog years. She could feel it slowly shaking off her shoulders when day 28 rolled around and proved her completely wrong.

Quinn breezily rounded the corner into British Literature, her first and favorite class of the day, and struck gold in the form of black suspenders. They stared her straight in the face from the torso of that goddamn girl two feet away.

"Morning, Quinn! It's almost summer," she chirped.

She chirps. Quinn loathed the chirping. She was always chirping, morning and afternoon. Quinn was sure she would also chirp at night if Berry ever had the privilege of seeing Quinn during the evening hours. Scoff.

"Berry, stop chirping at me," she muttered, fixed her eyes on the Shakespeare adorned walls and about-faced her way all the way to the corner desk in the last row. Eyes off the symmetry, eyes off the symmetry.

"I would hardly call what I'm doing chirping, Quinn. I'm simply greeting you good morning." The troll followed her, go figure. Eyes on Shakespeare, Quinn. Stay strong. She hated that east to west coast smile. She hated those curious eyes digging into her soul without her permission. She hated the symmetry. She hated the curves. She hated the way they pulled so taut against that purple, skin tight, delicious- Focus! Old Bard!

"I think class is starting soon," she released from her suddenly dry mouth.

Rachel grinned, rotated to her right and pulled a book from her tote. She turned back, opened it on the desk next to Quinn and faced the front.

This was new. Rachel never sat in the back row. Rachel never sat near her. Or maybe she never sat near Rachel. Either way.





"Why did you call me Fabray?"

"You call me Berry."

"It's your name…"

"As much as your name is Fabray…"

Quinn didn't have a retort for that. Was Rachel… bantering with her? Was this banter? And seriously, she was calling her Fabray now? How weird was that?

"Yeah, but, I mean, everyone calls you, it's your name," she ungracefully stuttered out.

"No, my name is Rachel. Most people tend to be called by their first name, not their surname, Quinn. I find it allows you to dehumanize me, but I guess I shouldn't complain. It's a step up from Manhands. Although I never really understood that one, my hands are the size of a five year old's," she said, twisted to face Quinn and held her hands up for display. "See? Your insults are hardly accurate."

Who was this weird creature in front of her? This intriguing, insightful, fantastic suspender-wearing creature?


Her hands fell to her lap, pulling Quinn's eyes along the symmetry laden path on reflex. Her breath caught, immediately forcing them back to the Bard on the wall. Rachel couldn't retain her chuckle at the girl's odd behavior and followed her gaze to the poster.

"Got a fetish for old prose, Quinn?"

"Got a fetish for something…" she mumbled and pulled her eyes to the teacher gathering her things at the front.

"You know, today feels like it's going to be a wonderful day. Do you feel that way?"


"I don't know. Just feels a bit different. I mean, you're almost being nice to me."

"I am being nice to you."

"And you're even getting defensive at the thought of me thinking you weren't being completely nice. See? It's different. I think it's going to be a day," she chirped yet again with a sweet half smile, shy eyes, and an unconscious stroke of her left suspender.

Gasp. Holy Father, who art in heaven…

It's the first day of Senior Year and also Day 101. Summer came and went with multiple Cheerio camps, bonfire parties, snooze fest family vacations, raging girls' trips with Britt and San, and now here she was, ready to take on McKinnely at the ultimate peak of her thrown.

She was queen, literally and physically. One more year and she would be out of Lima, out of Ohio, and set free on the gorgeous world she knew had to be out there somewhere. She would find it and she would reign.

She was always meant to reign. Everything she planned for culminated into this moment. The rock of her hips, the sway of her ponytail, the freaking air around her screamed this was it. Look out, Lima. This was her year. The motion in her ocean ran strong as she strutted through the parking lot and onto the corridor towards the front doors of her castle.

That's when Day 101 officially began.

Rachel Berry.

Quinn liked to lie to herself and say she had almost forgotten the girl existed that summer. But at least she could close her eyes without distress and she'd won an award for some Shakespeare Appreciation writing.

She could've used the extra focus in that moment breezing down the corridor, her eyes slowly peeling left, left and further left.

White tank top. Black mini skirt. Long, curly brown locks.

And black fucking suspenders.

Rachel Berry. Sex on a stick.

And those legs: they split and went to heaven.

Christ, she was like candy. And God, she was going to be the death of-

Crash! Lights out.

When Quinn reopened her eyes a few seconds later, she found herself on her back on the ground, blood running down her cheeks, her nose wailing in pain. With the distant sound of shoes clickity clacking, students gasping, and her throat gurgling, Quinn had no idea what the hell just happened.

And then she stretched her body out in pain and her feet found the front door to the school. The front door.

God, she'd just walked straight into the front door because she was eye fucking Rachel Berry. And speaking of Rachel Berry, Quinn's view of the clouds above disappeared and a curtain of luscious brown hair enveloped her.

"Oh my Moses, look at your nose! You're bleeding everywhere! You're lucky I always carry a small first aid kit with me, courtesy of my over-protective fathers, but really because I just find it proactive and the smart thing to do in this day and age."

"Berry, stop, you're making my head throb," Quinn groaned and rolled to her stomach, eager to shut out the hideous incident and beautifully haunting view. Tiny hands found her back, slowly dancing to her shoulder where they gathered Quinn's hair from her ponytail and secured it away from the bloody ground. Mortified, she was. Quinn was plain and simply mortified.

"Quinn. You need to sit up. Come on, you're hurt. Take the gauze and let's get you to Nurse Henderson. You might have broken your nose."

"Leave me alone, please," she groaned yet again and fought the tears battling for release in her eyes. This was not happening. And god, her nose was on fire.

"I will not! Stop being so stubborn, dammit! Roll over here now and let me help you," she demanded and hauled Quinn back around.

"Since when do you cuss?"

"Since when are you such a petulant child? 'Leave me alone, leave me alone.' So you walked into a door? So what. Get over it and get up. C'mon," she said while pulling a nasty, blood dripping Quinn Fabray to her feet. How Rachel got herself in these situations, she would never know.

"You are so annoying sometimes," Quinn growled and let Rachel drape Quinn's arm over her shoulder before wrapping her other around the blonde's waist.

"Yeah and you would never last on the bottom tier at this school," Rachel mumbled.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you have no tolerance for embarrassment. Look at you: you walk into a door, break your nose, and cry like it's the end of the world. Try getting slushied for two hundred and seventy days each school year." Quinn froze.

"You kept count?" Rachel looked away.

"No, I just know how many days are in a school year."

"But that would mean…"

"I got slushied daily. Yes, that would be what that means," she replied quickly and tried to pull Quinn back on their path to the nurse.

"I- I don't…"

"That almost sounds like a stunned apology," Rachel smirked. "Come on, Quinn, please walk so I don't have to drag you to the nurse. I would hate to embarrass you further on your first day as the senior head hauncho."

"That doesn't matter to-"

"Oh, sure it does. But it's okay. I get it. C'mon," she continued and the next thing Quinn knew she was being laid back on a medical bed getting her nose tended to. Rachel stood by her side and Quinn found herself incredibly pissed off that the nurse's office had no decorations up yet. She had no distractions, sans the broken nose, to keep her eyes off those suspenders tracing every perfect curve of Berry like treasure map.

And then the bell rang for first period and the hesitation on Rachel's face and the way she worried her bottom lip told Quinn she was seriously torn in the decision to either be late for her first class her senior year or to leave Quinn alone on their first day of senior year. It was endearing, Quinn found, to know Rachel actually cared, a lot.

"Go," Quinn said. "It's fine, really. I'm fine."

The nurse continued to fix her up and Rachel looked between Quinn's eyes and the nurse's hands hard at work. She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth, nibbled a few nervous bites, and then smiled.

"Okay. I'll go. As long as you swear you're fine."

"I'm fine. I swear. Thank you. I'll… see you around," Quinn forced a small smile. The pain shot straight up her sinuses and she regretted the attempt at placating the brunette's worries. It wasn't worth that shot of pain.

"Yeah, okay. I'll see you," she said with a shy hair tuck and then she was turning, those suspenders turning with her. And oh, god, Quinn found heaven in the back view. Tight across her toned shoulders, over her upper back and then straight down to her skirt where they branched away about an inch and a half from her lower back. Rachel was tiny, Quinn realized. She could probably wrap her hands around her waist.

But why would she ever do that?

Even so, something in her reached out. She couldn't stop it, couldn't help it, and couldn't deny it. Her fingertips grazed the black suspender material and tingles shot up her arm, down her body and out her other fingers. It was lightning fast and just as intense.

She wanted to bottle the feeling, put it in a flask and drink it when she needed a hit of Rachel fucking Berry. She could drink her daily, hourly, for life.

Her hand fluttered back to her side as the moment passed and Rachel reached the door. She twisted slightly on her heel and locked her eyes on Quinn's.

"Happy senior year, Fabray," she said sweetly with a quirk of a smile.

"Happy senior year, Rachel."