Will The Real Rachel Berry Please Stand Up?

4

Quinn pulled her cap down a little lower and slouched lower on her chair. She had been sitting in the café for an hour and a half now; one more coffee and she'd be able to give a relay team of energiser bunnies a run for their money. She had to quickly remind herself that this was purely research and not at all stalker-ish behaviour and besides, it was all Rachel's fault that she even had to be here. Quinn reflected briefly on her week. She was no closer to her 'familiarity breeds contempt' goal as spending time in the vicinity of Rachel was proving to be quite a challenge. From not being able to avoid her when she was trying to, she found herself not being able to find Rachel when she did want to see her. She hadn't realised that trying to change her seat in Chemistry in order to be near Rachel would result in such uproar – who knew all chemistry students suffered from OCD when it came to chairs? She hadn't been able to bring herself to take the permanently vacant seat next to Rachel because, after all, she was nothing if not subtle. Quinn had even been unsuccessful in Glee club practices where they had been focussing on a glam rock theme and she hadn't been in the same group as the subject of her musings. So here she is spending her Saturday lurking in a café hoping for a sighting of the elusive midget.

Her epiphany in the park was now being subjected to her own scepticism although testing out theories on her sexuality proved to be rather challenging. An amused Santana snide aside of "Perv much?" had curtailed her experiment to find out if she was generally appreciative of the female form or was just Rachel-obsessed (although none of what she seen in the Cheerios' changing room, before being called on her wandering eyes, had matched the perfection of the Berry formHer attempts t to watch straight and gay porn online. had left her rather scarred – the straight porn made her want to laugh but the lesbian porn hadn't been much better. Infeasibly large-chested women climaxing over the slightest touch to their nipples – surely they couldn't feel anything through those implants? Quinn/The blonde could feel a blush rapidly spreading up her cheeks and she quickly shut down a mental image of what she felt were ideally sized breasts. Her dreams had been plagued with less graphic but far more erotic images starring Rachel Berry and slowly sliding slushy; she was beginning to think that just a kiss would be enough for her to die happy – before descending to the fiery pits of hell for an eternity of damnation (hopefully with some spare time for reflection on the actions that had got her there). Compulsively watching Rachel's Myspace videos had merely fed her imagination and her closer scrutiny of Rachel's tanned and toned physique had increased rather than lessened her appreciation for it.

Quinn had been worried her Mum would catch her mid-porn viewing (her neck ached a little from the quick glances she kept throwing at the door ) and after obsessively deleting her browser history she still couldn't quite rid herself of a fear of being found out. She hadn't checked the volume setting on the computer when she had clicked on the first link and her shock at the sudden noise coupled with the sound of moans filling the entire house had had her on the brink of a heart attack. The immediate 10 minutes post-incident had been possibly the most nerve-wracking of her life (besides childbirth and... and Beth ) rather fortunately her mother hadn't been sober enough to investigate. Now Quinn was suffering the conservative Protestants' equivalent of Catholic Guilt for her porn surfing and only a twinge of guilt for her heated dreams – after all since when couldn't you kiss your.. er ..friends (were Rachel and her even considered to be friends? Her mind questioned.) in your dreams?

The door of the café opened to Rachel and her entourage who then noisily took their places at the same table they used the week before. Rachel squeezed onto the bench next to Ali and directed one of the boys to sort out their usual order. Jolting out of her reverie, Quinn shifted slightly to focus on the interactions involving her latest obsession

"So who's up for tonight's bowling trip – a rare chance to see our Rachel fail dismally at something," grinned a tall boy whose name appeared to be Ryan from the chorus of responses he received.