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Who Do You Think You Are?

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I know I can't take one more step towards you

'cause all that's waiting is regret...

I wait. It seems like I spend a lot of time waiting for that feeling to come back. Naturally, I had hoped it was a fluke and that it would never happen again. But then it did, when I saw her that next day in the hallway and I was lost for an explanation.

Rachel Berry. Really? No idea why I suddenly found myself with my lips on hers. Or why she'd even shown up at my house that night.

You know why, I thought. She found out you'd taken Finn back.

Ugh, and what a god awful decision that had been. It was necessary, though. I want the student body to fear me rather than pity me. Pity is weak. It is useless and has no right to be directed at me.

So I took him. As much as I never wanted to have to touch him ever again, I took him back. Out of Berry's grasp, and into my bed. Thankfully, he's easier to dissuade than Puck, who probably would have tried to get a lot more action out of the "making up" portion. Finn is too easily a pawn in the game of high school and I'm definitely someone who can play the game.

I can't believe that she would show up in the rain. Of all the dramatics Rachel Berry could accomplish, that had to have been in the top 10.

I opened the door to find what looked like a drowned rat in an overcoat.

"Berry," I said. "What are you doing here?"

She was shivering. I wanted to ask her in, but it seemed like an action that was a little too friendly for me.

"Quinn. Can I come in? If you haven't noticed, there is a bit of a downpour." Rachel looked at me like I was a godsend and Satan rolled into one.

"Yeah, I guess so."

I opened the door wider and let her in to stand on the rug in the front hall. Or drip, rather. Staring at her while she stood there, shivering, I was still wondering why she was here.

It's a good thing she lives close by, I thought as she steadily drip, drip, dripped on the carpet. It was only two blocks and still looked as though she'd been thrown into a lake fully clothed.

"Berry? Again. What are you doing here?" I ask. She seems kind of upset, although I have no idea why. Not that I know much about Rachel Berry...

Suddenly Rachel's head popped up and she looked me in the eyes. Her beautiful brown eyes burned into mine. Wait, beautiful? What?

"Are you back together with Finn?" Her question snapped me out of my momentary confusion and back to focus on her.

"Oh god, really Berry? Is this why you showed up here at 11 on a school night? To ask me about something you could have seen on Facebook?" I made for the door, causing a larger amount of distance between us, to open it and force her to leave. This was a ridiculous waste of my time.

I didn't need to answer to her. She should just leave me alone. For years, I had to deal with trying to understand why I was strangely drawn to her and chalked it up to hatred that never really had a reason.

It's probably because of her incessant need to be right. Constant, unwavering. Now she was opening up another issue. It's not like I care whether Finn Hudson rockets off of a cliff to a fiery death or lives to be 90. I need him to win that stupid crown, so I can be the stupid prom queen and make everyone stay afraid. I need some semblance of normalcy.

Rachel Berry standing in my house was not normal.

Marching in her diva stance to join me, I found her tanned legs particularly alluring in that skirt. This actually happened often. Every time I caught myself staring, I would just remember that it was comparison; all girls judged themselves by the looks of others, whether or not that particular other was Rachel Berry. Even though I never really looked at Santana or Brittany in quite the same way...

"Quinn. I want an answer. I have the right to know. Finn was in a relationship with me and you're somewhat of a friend and I think I deserve to know if you two are suddenly secretly dating." She huffed, crossing her arms against her chest and positioned one foot slightly ahead of the other in her stance.

I looked at her, tilting my neck slightly to make up for the few inches of height difference. I felt a sudden anger that I had never experienced before.

"I know that you think everything has to do with you, but believe me, Manhands, the world doesn't revolve around Ms. Rachel Berry."

"I have every right-"

"You have no right! When are you going to understand, Rachel? You're not the one who gets the guy and has the white picket fence in Ohio? That's not you and you need to accept it!"

Why do I have tears in my eyes? I thought, suddenly. You know why, Fabray.

Rachel stepped back slightly, a look in her eyes I couldn't quite place. Could she see that scenario was my future and that I hated the thought of it? If Berry's pitying me now, I swear to God...

"Don't look at me like that! Why are you constantly in my way? Just leave me in peace!"

I felt my face flushing in anger and hot tears threatening to spill down my face. Where is all of this emotion coming from? I thought quickly before focusing my attention back to the girl in front of me. She backed up a little more and I saw her hit the countertop.

I could make her fear me again. I could revel in it.

So I moved closer, looming over Rachel Berry. Something took hold of me and I no longer had control over my actions. So much that I had repressed in the past year was bubbling up to the surface. This only seemed to happen around Rachel, but usually I was under control. Now it was making itself known. I moved upon her so that there was no space left between the two of us and she brought her hands up to push at my shoulders.

Surprisingly strong, I though, quirking my eyebrow at her, impressed. She looked breathless, shocked, but only a little bit afraid. I grabbed her to make her stop pushing at me and before I had realized what I was doing I felt her plush lips against mine. Soft, pillowy goodness that I was ravaging. I didn't have control for this and felt a moan emerge from my throat that somewhat resembled a growl.

Rachel's lips suddenly moved in response to mine and I felt hands move from my shoulders to my back, pulling me closer. I grabbed the back of her neck with one hand, feeling strands of wet hair in my grasp, and the side of her jaw in the other, pressing myself even closer to her. I heard a whimper and ran my tongue along her bottom lip, instantly receiving the reaction I craved.

Plunging into her mouth, I smoothly combined our tongues for a deep, sensual kiss. I was ravenous, taking dominance in this kiss. Listening to Rachel's whimpering moans only fueled my desire. I felt the grip on my back strengthen and two hands pulling my sides to force my body impossibly closer to hers.

I pushed her harder against the counter, feeling the need for air as I did so, and let go, still pressing our foreheads together while gasping for more oxygen. I swiftly moved my mouth down to her jaw and lower still, to her neck, nipping at the skin there. I heard a loud moan as I adjusted my thigh to place between her legs.

Suddenly, I snapped out of it.

Pushing myself away, I was in horror of what I had just done. Rachel was still pressed against the counter, her hair disheveled and her gorgeous lips with a slight swell to them. Eyes half-open she appraised my appearance as well, with a dark, sensual look still directed toward me.

What the hell?

"Leave," I said, noting the huskiness still evident in my voice.

She seemed to come to her senses with that one word.

"What?"

"Leave. I don't need to repeat myself."

There was a beat. She didn't move and neither did I. We stood, encased in time.

"No," she said. I loved the way her voice sounded right now.

"What?"

"No," she repeated. "I refuse to leave. Particularly at this very moment."

"Get out!" I yelled halfheartedly.

Thank God my parents aren't home, I thought.

She started moving toward me. I backed up, feeling the door hit in me in the back.

Nowhere to run now.

"Quinn...don't you think we should..."

"No! No, I don't think we should do anything. I think you should leave."

I put my arm up in some type of defense to Rachel, who was getting closer to me. She put her hand on my arm and looked at me with an expression that was completely vulnerable.

I think that was the moment I truly fell in love with Rachel Berry.

"Fine, Quinn. But we should talk about this. I'm coming over tomorrow evening. It's a Friday, you can tell your parents that you're having a sleepover or something."

She looked at me expectantly. I wanted to tell her that I'd rather die than have to talk to her more than necessary, but I just nodded instead.

"No need. My parents won't be home, but you can still come over. I doubt I could stop you anyway," I said, trying to regain my normal speaking voice.

This huskiness was doing nothing for my libido and I was still kind of turned on. I wanted to be harsh toward her. It was too weird to be nice after what had just happened. Rachel's voice was, of course, still in that lower octave and driving me nuts.

I ran my hands down the front of my jeans to get rid of the nerves and found them damp because of Rachel's stupid coat. Stupid, stupid coat. I looked back at her. She looked like she was waiting for something. Finally, she looked down.

"Okay, well...I'll see you tomorrow then. I'll be over around...six?" She looked back up nervously, her facial expression hesitant and I felt a familiar zing shooting around in my stomach as her eyes locked with mine.

I nodded.

"Fine."

She squishily walked the short distance to the doorway and pushed the outward door open. Taking one look back at me, she disappeared into the dark, damp night.

And now I'm here. It's five thirty, and I'm waiting for none other than Rachel Berry. I so do not look forward to this conversation.