Dizziness May Occur

Disclaimer: The usual perils of non-ownership - Fox owns the Glee people and Ryan Murphy and Co. came up with the idea. All things Stars Hollow/Gilmore Girls created by Amy Sherman-Palladino. Characters borrowed from 'The Devil Wears Prada' were created by Lauren Weisberger. I don't own any of them but these words are mine.

Summary: A series of 100 double drabble (200 words) and drabble (100 words) vignettes, covering several months in the life of high school frenemies Rachel Berry and Quinn Fabray - as roommates, and possibly more, in an AU, post collegiate world.

Rating: PG-13 Max for adult themes but mostly PG.

Rachel had to work hard to appear calm, as Shelby joined her in the Dragonfly Inn dining room for tea. Just calling her earlier to extend the invitation had been difficult enough. The upcoming conversation? She'd already made an appointment with her therapist just in case it went badly.

"Rachel, you're looking good," Shelby said.

"You also," Rachel murmured. She hoped she aged half as well herself. Quinn kept any pictures that included Shelby in her bedroom, so Rachel rarely had to confront evidence of her own future.

"You're welcome to come to the house," Shelby told her. "Beth would love to see you."

"Maybe tomorrow," Rachel said. "I'm not really interested in spend time with you." She suspected Quinn would have spotted the lie, but Shelby really didn't know her.

"Why are you here?" Shelby asked.

"I'm interested in pursuing a closer relationship with Quinn," Rachel said blushing. "I'm not looking for your approval," she added quickly. "Just telling you my plans."

"Why?"

"Quinn respects and looks up to you," Rachel said. "More than her own mother."

"I'm flattered you think so," Shelby said.

"Please don't interfere," Rachel said.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Rachel echoed, surprised.

"You're both adults," Shelby said.

"Why won't my sister visit?" Beth asked, looking at Quinn across her stack of blueberry pancakes.

After subtly checking to make sure Shelby wasn't listening, Quinn sighed. "You know how your mom is still angry at Mrs. Kim?"

"Yup," Beth said. "She wouldn't sell Mom that desk she really wanted, because she teaches singing."

"So your mom refused to talk to her," Quinn said. "For months. Until Miss Patty made them play nice."

"Silly grownups," Beth said, giggling.

Quinn nodded. "Your sister is the same way," she said. "She got angry at something your mom did years and years ago but there's no Miss Patty to get them to hug and make up."

"Maybe we can send Miss Patty to New York?" Beth asked.

"We could ask, but I think it would be better for your sister to come here," Quinn said, cringing internally at the thought of Rachel being confronted by Miss Patty, in all her glory.

"Can we call her?" Beth asked.

"We can try tonight," Quinn said. "Before you go to bed."

"Okay," Beth said, nodding, a serious expression on her face. Watching her carefully jab a piece of pancake, Quinn really hoped Rachel would finally cooperate.

From her perch on the bandstand steps, Rory watched the younger woman walking across the town square with her niece. Her journalist's nose told her there was something there, some hidden story. Years ago she would have jumped at the idea but time had tempered her impulsive desire to know everything.

There was definitely a family resemblance between the two, she decided. Certainly closer than between Beth and her mother.

Town gossip had it that the enigmatic Quinn Fabray lived with a Broadway actress, something that had kept the local scandalmongers talking for weeks.

"What are you scheming about now?" a voice whispered in her ear, an arm wrapping around her waist.

"Hey, Paris," Rory said, hugging her old classmate. She pointed at Beth and Quinn playing in the snow across the square, laughter drifting to them on the breeze.

"She does have a certain presence," Paris said softly, "to go with those Midwestern Princess looks."

"Midwest? I thought she went to Yale?"

"Top of her class," Paris said.

"How do you know?" Rory asked.

"I have my sources," Paris said haughtily, before laughing and jumping up. "Gilmore! Stop it!"

"You can't resist the tickle," Rory said, wriggling her fingers.