Disclaimer: Own not. Profit not. Sue not.
Seay's Law states: Nothing ever comes out as planned.
AN: So I got a little, I don't know, weary of all the seriousness that's been taking place in this series. Because of that this story is more light hearted. I hope you all enjoy my slightly quirky sense of humor... My friend is on Skype mocking me for saying "slightly" right now. Anyway, read and enjoy!
She'd had it. Absolutely had it with Quinn and Ryan's bff routine. It was driving her slowly insane. Rationally speaking, she knew that she was jealous and there was no reason for her to be. Quinn was dating her, and she knew that the blonde would never cheat on her, but she wasn't jealous because she thought Quinn had romantic designs on Ryan. They were so damn close, and at first she'd loved that her girlfriend had someone like that in her life. After spending so much time alone and so angry, having a real friend like Ryan was exactly what Quinn needed. However the more time she spent in their company, observing their interactions, the playful banter, teasing looks, and familiarity between the two started to make her feel wildly insecure.
Rachel didn't have close friends like that. She had her cast-mates - not that she was really close with any of them. Allison was the closest she got to having a friend and they rarely spent time together and definitely didn't have the bond the two agents boasted. It made her feel like young Rachel Berry again, the lonely brunette dripping slushy and staring longingly at Finn Hudson. Dating had become a way to not be so alone all the time, and surely if she dated the quarterback she could make friends with the boost in social status. That hadn't worked out and her sort-of friendship with the other glee kids was never smooth. Now she had Quinn, and somehow still felt like she was on the outside looking in.
So she devised a plan.
The only problem would be convincing Quinn to go along with it.
"Quinn, please?" Rachel wheedled, clasped her hands over Quinn's fingers and pulled lightly.
"No. Why are we still having this conversation?" Quinn turned her face skywards, as though questioning the heavens might bring her an answer. "It's boring, Rachel. Boring. Not fun or remotely adventurous. Plus, you could get hurt."
Rachel looked over at Ryan with a clear, 'help me out here' expression. He rolled his eyes but cleared his throat and sidled up closer to the blonde.
"Aw, Qball. Come on. It is boring, she'd be fine. Sitting in a car with two armed federal agents? She'll be more than fine."
"No, absolutely not. It's potentially very dangerous, you don't know what could happen, and we could get in serious trouble for bringing her!"
Ryan scoffed at that and poked her in the ribs, "Come on, break the rules, live a little. Hell you might like it!" He winked at Rachel and she had to hide a giggle with her hand. Quinn was already glaring back and forth between them, clearly suspicious.
"Does the word 'no' mean anything to you two?" She asked.
"She never broke the rules in school, did she?" Ryan asked sadly and pointedly turned to face her.
Rachel shook her head, "Straight laced Fabray? Once. Then never again," she bit into her bottom lip and averted her gaze. Quinn was staring right into the side of her head, she could feel it.
"What did you just call me?"
"Quinnie, please? Just one time and I'll never ask again," Rachel promised and looked back at her girlfriend with the full might of her best pouty face.
"Yeah, Quinnie, please?" Ryan echoed with a huge grin.
"Fine," Quinn huffed and tossed her hands into the air. "And Ryan? I swear to God - you call me 'Quinnie' again and I will shoot you."
"Oh! Can I have a gun?"
"No!"
And that's how Rachel came to find herself sitting in the backseat of Quinn's company issue Tahoe.
"So what happens now?" She asked excitedly, bending forward to put her head between the two agents sitting in the front. Quinn and Ryan both looked down at her, then at each other, doing that weird silent communication thing that freaked her out and made her jealous at the same time. The blonde agent sighed and looked at her rather pointedly, she thought.
"Now we wait," Quinn said.
Rachel peered down the dark street at the house they were conducting surveillance on. "That's it?"
"I told you it's not exciting."
"Well what do you do in the meantime?" Rachel pressed. Ryan and Quinn had this bond, she didn't know how to define it or what to call it. The only thing she could come up with for a reason was that they spent time together. Time like this, sitting together in an otherwise silent vehicle staring at buildings and streets, waiting for some sort of action to happen.
"First we roll the windows down a crack, because Qball is claustrophobic," Ryan said. "Very important first step, trust me."
"I know she's claustrophobic," Rachel sniffed and stroked Quinn's arm soothingly. "Then what?"
"Then we pray that Ryan doesn't have gas, because if he does he'll kill us both," Quinn joked and laughed when Ryan glared over at her.
"That's disgusting," she frowned up at him.
"It's a perfectly natural bodily function!" He defended, playing up the outrage. As an actress, Rachel could see 'ham' a mile away, and Ryan Peterson was a ham. "She's exaggerating anyway."
"I most certainly am not," Quinn shot back, "I think you do it on purpose!"
He winked down at Rachel and she had to suppress a giggle. She had to do that a lot around him.
The agents continued to bicker while Rachel listened and watched Quinn, completely enthralled with the interaction between the two. Quinn was so obviously in her element. Her eyes had a new life in them, flashing with playfulness and warmth while she quibbled with Ryan. Everything about her seemed more alive, vibrant. She and Ryan traded teasing barbs back and forth and Rachel found herself looking back and forth between the two like she was watching a tennis match. She'd never seen Quinn blush so much either, especially when Ryan made innuendos and waggled his eyebrows at her. Rachel blushed herself after a couple good natured jibes at their sex life. She was certain that would have continued had she not protested and slapped at him after one particularly crude comment. Their banter petered out and finally they quieted down. Quinn reached into the center console to pull out a redbull, Rachel eyed the little blue and silver can with disgust and mild curiosity.
"Quinn?"
"Yes?"
"Can I try it?"
Ryan immediately started chuckling, "Rule number 3 of a Quinn Fabray stake out: Never drink her redbull."
She felt her eyebrows come together and a frown drag down the corners of her lips. Rachel didn't drink soda as it was bad for her vocal chords and thus had never had a redbull. It was more morbid curiosity than anything else, but now it was forbidden fruit.
Now she had to have some.
"Please?"
"Rachel, trust me, you do not need redbull," the blonde shook her head and cracked open the can. "I can just imagine you pinging around the car like one of those little rubber bouncy balls from hell."
Oh no, that will just not do at all, Rachel pushed out her lower lip, allowed her eyes to well with tears and turned her face to look imploringly into Ryan's.
"Oh my god," he squeaked, blue eyes wide with terror. "She's the devil, Quinn, the devil. Away from me shebeast!" He held up two fingers in a cross and looked away.
Quinn laughed, hard, and eventually calmed down enough to sigh and tap her shoulder. Rachel turned to her, still pouting. Quinn pushed her lip back in with one pale finger and held the energy drink out to her. She withdrew it when Rachel happily lurched for it, leery hazel eyes stared into her. "A sip, Rachel Berry, and I mean that. I've seen you guzzle things down before and I'm telling you, one sip."
Nodding eagerly Rachel took the can and under Quinn's watch took a long sip of the bubbly liquid. She immediately screwed her face up at the taste and smacked her lips together. "That is not very good, Quinn."
"It's an amazing nectar from God," Quinn sighed and took a gulp of her own.
"Ryan, what do you drink on these outings?"
"Outings?" Ryan snorted and lifted a thermos from the floor by his feet to show her. "It's not a trip to the zoo, Tadpole. I drink coffee, because I'm a man."
"Can I –"
"No!" The agents chorused together.
Rachel slumped into the back seat and crossed her arms, they were clearly not going to be any fun at all.
An hour passed, a long drawn out hour of silence occasionally punctuated by brief conversations and Quinn doing radio checks.
"This is it then?" Rachel finally asked, unable to comprehend what was so damn exciting about her girlfriends job that she loved it so much. She'd never been so bored in her entire life and they wouldn't turn the radio on. She couldn't even hum anymore because Ryan had threatened bodily harm to Quinn if she continued.
"I told you," Quinn said softly and twisted in her seat to smile sweetly back at her. "A lot of times law enforcement work is boring, Superstar. Why don't you stretch out and go to sleep?"
Appalled at the very idea Rachel huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. Quinn only smiled wider and reached back to warmly cup her knee.
"Can you at least tell me what we're looking for? That way I can feel like I'm helping instead of just sitting here watching you two quibble about 'Dexter'?"
"It's a good show!" Ryan protested.
"It's gross and creepy," Rachel shot back.
Quinn held up both hands, one over Ryan's mouth, to silence the argument. "What do you want to know?"
"What are we doing here? What is in that house?"
The two agents sighed, again in unison – which Rachel now found infuriating after witnessing over an hour of it.
"Quinn thinks the guy that lives in that house might be…" Ryan hesitated and looked over at his blonde counterpart.
Quinn, for her part, didn't appear happy with the direction the conversation was going. Rachel leaned forward again and slid her hand along Quinn's forearm to grasp her wrist loosely.
"I know you've been reading the paper, so I'll let you put this together on your own," she said and Rachel nodded. "We pulled this guy in the other day off a tip from a witness. To say he was uncooperative would be putting it mildly. No choice but to let him loose, the only thing we really have is my gut. Something about him is off, the way he was looking at me – it gave me the creeps and I never get the creeps. He could be our guy or he could just be some other sleaze." She shrugged one slender shoulder and looked back down at her. Rachel rolled her lips together and nodded slowly, not liking the idea of someone eyeballing Quinn and giving her the creeps.
"So what are we looking for?" She asked, focused on the house with renewed interest.
"Suspicious behavior, anything that could link him to the crimes," Ryan answered. "This could be an absolute bust, but no way to know for sure. Q's hunches are usually spot on though. We've got unit's out patrolling the areas he's been active in as well. I'm pretty sure we're close to catching the son of a bitch."
"Of course you are," Rachel chirped, absentmindedly rubbing her thumb against Quinn's wrist in a soothing pattern. "You two are the best."
Ryan smiled fondly and winked over at Quinn, "Thanks Tadpole, we like to think so."
At first his constant comparison of her to frog progeny had been annoying and, she felt, insulting – because frogs croaked and Rachel Berry did not croak. Ever. But over time the moniker had grown on her, especially after Quinn had explained that Ryan only gave out nicknames to those he held most dear. It was, in fact, a term of affection meant only for her from him. Now it made her feel special, like she was included in their little club, his and Quinn's.
So she smiled sweetly back at him and leaned over to lay her head against his bicep.
"Alright, enough with the adorable, I'm trying to work here," he muttered gruffly after a few seconds, but he ruffled her hair first before he nudged her away from him. She glared at him, though it lacked any fire whatsoever, and went about smoothing her hair back down while Quinn cracked open a new can of redbull and Ryan poured himself a refill of coffee.
Rachel followed their lead and drank some of the water she'd brought with her (also a few extra bottles for her agents because god knew they'd be dehydrated with all the crap they were drinking!). She happened to look out the windshield in time to see a man and woman heading up the steps to the house they were watching.
"Quinn!" She cried and resisted the urge to point as she'd been told repeatedly not to do that.
"Yeah we see, Rach," Quinn nodded. She and Ryan were already leaning forward carefully watching the unfolding events. The pair continued into the house while the three in the vehicle watched with rapt attention.
"I've got a bad feeling about this," Ryan murmured.
"Thanks, Captain Solo," Quinn snorted, but she un-holstered her pistol and cast him a knowing look. Rachel swallowed hard as Ryan pulled his firearm free as well and they both quickly checked the chamber. She could see the shiny brass of a round, ready and waiting. "Okay, Rach?"
Quinn turned once again and Rachel felt the first jolt of adrenaline accompanied with a shot of fear. The amused glimmer was gone from Quinn's hazel eyes, her expression had gone from warm to tight in the span of seconds.
"We don't know that anything's going to happen, alright? We're just getting prepared in case – and sweetheart I need you to listen very closely to me, if we leave this vehicle for any reason you lock the doors and stay here. Understand me?"
Rachel nodded.
The car fell silent again, this time eerily and strained as all three waited with baited breath for something, anything to happen.
It was like they'd conjured the response.
A scream, brief but loud and unmistakable, shattered the silence and threw the vehicle occupants into turmoil.
"Fuck!" Ryan hissed and flew out the door, Quinn was right behind him but hesitated long enough to catch Rachel's eyes and hold them.
"Stay. Here." She said and then took off after Ryan. Immediately Rachel crawled up into Quinn's seat and depressed the lock button, effectively sealing her into relative safety. Her eyes were glued to the little house, watching Ryan and Quinn disappear inside and feeling like she might throw up at any second.
You wanted excitement, her mind accused.
"Not like this," she whispered aloud. Quinn had run off, into unknown danger, without a second glance backwards.
The sound of gunfire reached her ears and her stomach clenched so hard she almost did throw up.
The fight boiled out of the house, Ryan came bursting through a window tangled up with the other man. They hit the ground and rolled, fists flying, she realized that both men's hands were fisted around something, struggling to gain control of whatever it was as they continued to roll over and over.
Quinn re-appeared, rushing out of the house, just as the item in the men's hands exploded.
A gun, it's a gun, it's a gun.
Rachel's hands flew over her mouth to muffle the scream as she watched Quinn drop immediately. She heard Ryan's angry cry and the scuffle grew rougher as he battled for control. Rachel was out of the car before she could think about it and running in the direction of the fallen blonde.
"Rachel no!" Ryan yelled, and she realized then that it was perhaps not her smartest idea in the world. But Quinn.
Then a miracle before her very eyes, Quinn sat up, holding her stomach but still sitting up. Alive.
Ryan growled something she couldn't hear, she'd frozen, standing too close she knew but now she couldn't seem to move. He sat up, straddled the other mans waist, and loosed one hand to viciously punch at the face beneath him. Blood flew and then Ryan reared up and slammed the other mans head down onto the ground.
Just like that it was over.
"Quinn," Rachel breathed, and ran the rest of the way to the blondes side. Her girlfriend was glaring hotly over at the now unconscious man, still holding her stomach and wincing. At the sound of her name the agent jerked and turned with wide eyes.
"You," she snarled, and Rachel skidded to a halt. "What part of 'stay in the car' did you not understand, Rachel!"
"I – he shot you!"
"I have a vest on, you don't! What were you going to do when you got here? Sing him into submission? I'm not hurt Rachel, you could have died."
To further illustrate her point Quinn pulled open her shirt to reveal a black flak vest lying tight against her torso, the squashed bronze of the bullet stood out against the material.
"Killed you, Rachel."
"He shot you," was all she could seem to say, transfixed by the muted dirty yellow color.
"Ryan, call this in?"
"Yeah, I got it, Q. Did you take care of the woman inside?"
"She's sitting in the kitchen nursing her split lip, I'll do damage control, you take care of the asshole," as she spoke Quinn never once looked away from Rachel, her stern expression slowly melting. Rachel started to shake, didn't even know she was crying until Quinn wiped her fingertips across her cheeks. "Jesus, Rachel. I told you to stay in the car."
"He shot you," she whimpered and touched both hands against the bullet. Quinn sighed and pulled her hands away, she grunted as she yanked the offending piece of metal away.
"Yes, he did, but I'm okay. Go back to the car."
Lip trembling Rachel turned to do as asked, casting glances over her shoulder occasionally to see Quinn watching her go. She climbed back into the Tahoe and locked it, shivering with a sense of Deja Vu. Over and over her head replayed the entire scene. Quinn running from the house, the gun going off, Quinn falling. Rachel curled herself into a ball on the backseat and hugged herself for comfort.
"Rachel?"
She forced her eyes back open at the tentative call and twisted to see Ryan hovering at the passenger door. Wiping at her face she sat up and smiled weakly at him. He reached over and ruffled her hair like he had earlier, but his smile was lopsided and he did so more gently this time.
"We've got to go in to the office. Paperwork. Quinn wants me to take you home real quick."
Fresh tears welled up and stung her eyes, she lowered her head. Quinn didn't even want to take her home?
"Hey," he gently lifted her chin with his fingers, blue eyes oh so earnest as they bore into her. "It's not like that. She's just pissed at the situation, okay? Not at you. Promise."
All she could do was nod and he jerked his head towards the front of the car. "Want to ride shotgun? I'll let you have one of Quinn's redbulls as long as you don't tell her. Maybe even let you play with the siren?"
Again she nodded and clambered over the center console into the passenger seat. He wordlessly buckled himself into the driver side and started the car. After a few miles of dead silence, where he kept shooting her quick glances, he reached into the console and pulled free a can, handing it over to her with a soft grin. "I don't even care if you ping around the car. Our little secret."
"Ryan?"
"Yeah, Tadpole?"
"I just - I wanted to know what it was like," she whispered forlornly. "Not the dangerous side, I knew about that, I've seen Quinn after you guys have a 'bad night'. You two are so close and I thought maybe if I could see what it was like..."
He pulled the car over immediately, smoothly pulling up to the curb and put the vehicle in park so he could turn to look at her fully. "Rachel, Quinn and I work together, have for a long time now, it's part of the job. You bond with the person next to you because they may be the one to save your skin."
"I was, it sounds silly now, I was, am, jealous of your relationship. I know it's purely platonic, but I don't have that connection with anyone and I wanted to be included."
"That's bullshit, you and Quinn have something I've never had, probably never will. She adores you, if anything I'm jealous of you." Ryan sighed and ran a hand over his rumpled hair. "Trust me, as close as you perceive our friendship to be, it's not nearly as intense as what you share. As for the friendship thing, you're my friend too, Tadpole. I'm sorry if it doesn't seem that way. To be honest I've been afraid of intruding on Quinn's time with you and that's why the three of us don't hang out often. I wait for her to ask. Is that what's bugging you?"
"I don't, I guess I don't spend a lot of time with people. I'm afraid to, and I don't want to be clingy with Quinn but she's pretty much the only person I see outside of my show. She's been encouraging me to spend more time at cast parties and after show dinners, I'm trying. It's hard and when I have free time I want to be with her."
He grabbed her hand, and smiled, tilting his head so she could see him. "You are not being clingy. She feels exactly the same way. That's why we haven't hung out as much. When she has time it's all about you. Rachel, since the moment I heard about you I knew you were exactly what Quinn needed, no lie. She told me your whole story and you should have seen the look on her face. She's completely smitten. How about this, how about I come to your show this weekend, with Quinn, and afterwards maybe you could introduce us to your cast?"
Rachel shook her head, "Quinn said she has to work this weekend."
"She doesn't, she's going to your show. It was supposed to be a surprise but I'm going to ruin it and if you tell on me, I'm going to tell her about the redbull."
"You gave it to me! And I haven't even opened it!"
"You will. We both know you will. So what do you say to my idea?"
"She's really coming to see me perform?" Rachel fiddled with the can in her hands and looked at the man across from her from under her bangs.
He nodded and turned the car back on. "Yeah, Tadpole - and so am I and then we're going to party like rockstars with all the Broadway divas! Hell, maybe you can introduce me to a couple of ladies?"
Finally a real Rachel Berry smile stretched her face, "deal!" Then she cracked open the can with a flick of her hand and dumped the contents into her mouth.
Ten minutes later Ryan was staring at her like she was crazy and laughing while she bounced in her seat and slapped wildly at the radio controls. After she'd spent a good five minutes driving him crazy with the sirens and lights that is...
"No. No. No. Oh! I love this song!" She finally squealed in utter delight and started belting out the lyrics into an imaginary microphone. To her continued glee Ryan rolled his eyes, shrugged, and started singing with her. His voice was rough, but thankfully in tune.
They continued that way all the way to Rachel's apartment. Howling Katy Perry like a couple of lunatics.
Once in her apartment though, her buzz wore off and she realized that for the first time in a long time that she'd probably be sleeping alone. She looked around her apartment, dark but for the one light on in her living room and felt the weight of loneliness press onto her. Sniffling back tears she stumbled up the stairs into her room and crashed into her beloved recliner. She drew the blanket off the back and swaddled herself in it, starting to cry softly.
She fell asleep like that, curled up and hiccuping quietly.
The sound of her front door opening had her jolting upright, eyes wide as she nearly fell out of her chair in fright. A break in? She whimpered and looked around her room for a weapon of any sort, nearby her 'Number 1 Daughter' award her father's had got her sat on the bedside table. It was plastic, of course, but that didn't really register in the moment. She gripped it, and waited, wondering if she should hide or just attack the miscreant who'd dared to enter her home. Her brain swirled with questions: what exactly was the statistic for home invasion? Was she likely to survive such an encounter? Oh god, what if it was some rapist like on Law and Order and he tried to strangle her with her own leggings?
Her bedroom door started to open and she tensed, every muscle quivering while she choked down another cry. As soon as the door was open and she saw the shadowy figure she lunged, trophy held high. They collided and a firm hand caught her wrist as she tried to slap the makeshift weapon against the intruder.
"Rachel! Jesus!"
"Quinn?"
"Yeah, for fuck's sake! Who'd you think I was? Dracula?" Quinn pushed them both back into her bedroom and flicked the lights on. They blinked at one another in the sudden illumination. The blonde looked haggard, dark circles under her eyes and a bruise developing against her temple.
"If it were Dracula I would have had a stake!" Rachel stuttered out in her defense. She dropped the trophy to the floor and threw herself at the other woman again - this time for an embrace rather than a beating.
Quinn caught her easily enough, more than used to her flying tackle hugs, and Rachel couldn't stop her babbling once safely ensconced in her arms. "Quinn, I'm so sorry, so so sorry!"
"It's okay Superstar, alright? Sit down for a second."
Rachel reluctantly stepped free of the agents comforting arms and obediently sat on the end of her bed. Quinn sighed and sat down next to her, turning so her knee bumped against Rachel's. She smiled tiredly and wiped her fingertips across Rachel's cheek, brushing away the tears.
"Are you still mad at me?" Rachel asked, catching that hand and keeping it against the side of her face. She wanted the contact so badly, it was physically hard to restrain herself from grabbing the other woman.
"No, no, I wasn't mad at you. Just, you scared me, Rachel. That bullet could have gone anywhere, it could've been you and I can't..." Quinn trailed off and dragged in a ragged breath, she lifted her other hand to join the other, cupping Rachel's face. "I'm supposed to protect you and you could've died. Why didn't you stay in the car?"
"He shot you!" Rachel cried, clutching at Quinn's delicate wrists. "I didn't even know that I'd left the car until I was already out of it because he shot you and you fell and I didn't think, couldn't think about anything else."
Quinn nodded and Rachel caved in to her hearts demand, all but collapsing against the agents warm body and holding on to her for dear life. She heard a sharp hiss and frowned against Quinn's collarbone. Unfortunately investigating meant sitting back up, but as much as she didn't want to, she wanted to know that Quinn was okay.
She pulled herself away, yet again, and stared into Quinn's watery hazel eyes. "Are you okay?"
"A little bruised, those flak vests save you from a gun shot wound but all that energy doesn't just stop."
Rachel didn't hesitate, just dragged Quinn's shirt up and exposed her stomach. She squeaked in alarm as she took in the ugly bruise. Her fingers gently touched it and Quinn hissed again.
"How about we not poke it?"
"Sorry," Rachel apologized and bent awkwardly to lightly press her lips against the warm skin. "Kisses make it better?"
When she looked back up she found Quinn smiling lopsidedly at her, she smiled back and dropped the shirt in favor of cuddling back in, this time careful of the blondes tender torso.
"Kisses and lots of ibuprofen," Quinn quipped.
"I have lots of both," Rachel assured her and nuzzled against the other woman's throat. "Can I say sorry again?"
"You just did, but you don't have to. I'm sorry I upset you."
"It was an intense situation, we were all upset," she mumbled. Quinn's hands were in her hair and against her back, rubbing and stroking in lazy patterns. Rachel could have purred, if she'd had the energy. "Are you leaving again?"
"Absolutely not, unless you make me," her agent promised and leaned until they fell down onto the mattress, still tangled together. "I'll stay right here as long as you'll let me."
"We can talk more in the morning?"
"It is morning, miss stickler-for-details," Quinn teased, never ceasing the soothing motion of her hands. "But we can talk more when we wake up. I'll even take you to breakfast."
"Mmkay," Rachel closed her eyes, finally feeling safe and right. How she had ever managed to fall asleep without Quinn was beyond her. Now that she'd felt that safety she never wanted to give it up. Sleeping without Quinn was impossible. "Vegan breakfast?"
"Yeah, vegan breakfast. Which means you pick the restaurant."
She smiled and sniffled, worming herself in until she could no longer tell where she began and Quinn ended. Her favorite lullaby washed over her, the steady sound of Quinn's breath and the thump of her heartbeat under her ear. I love you, she thought desperately and clutched handfuls of Quinn's shirt. Don't leave me.
"I'm not going anywhere," Quinn whispered, as though she'd heard the silent plea. "Go to sleep. When you wake up I'll be right here, listening to you snore."
"I don't snore," Rachel scoffed and nuzzled against the warm fabric of Quinn's college t-shirt.
"Like a bear sawing wood while another bear mows the lawn." Quinn's hands ceased their ministrations long enough for her to reach, grab the top of Rachel's comforter and yank it over them. Mostly over Rachel because of how they were situated on the top of the bed. "Or a t-rex trying to see how many marsh mallows he can cram in his mouth while singing at the top of his, uh, voice?"
"Quinn? None of that makes sense, and yet I still feel mildly insulted."
"I know, that's just my gentle way of pointing out that the way you snore defies description."
"I do not snore!" Rachel yelped and squirmed, unwilling to free a hand to swat at the infuriating woman cuddling her. "Aren't you cold? We can get under the blankets like normal people."
"I'm comfy, I don't want to move anymore. Besides, you keep me warm."
"Okay," she said, secretly pleased with the notion that she alone could take care of Quinn in even that small a way. She slipped one of her thighs between Quinn's, ostensibly to help with the 'keeping warm' business and not just because she wanted to be that much closer. She never could be close enough, no matter how hard she tried. "Quinn?"
"Yes?"
Rachel hesitated and licked her lips, battling her need to tell the other woman the depth of her feelings. "Nothing," she said instead and tilted her head to softly kiss the hollow of Quinn's throat. "You just make me feel safe."
Quinn went still, her hands stopped stroking her back again and Rachel grumbled unhappily at that. She needed those hands! But then Quinn was kissing her forehead, her hair, her ear, her eyes, cheek, every part of her face she could reach and Rachel all but melted. God it made her ache all over in the best and worst way imaginable.
"You make me feel brave."
Quiet settled on them, Quinn's hands started sliding again - this time under her shirt. Her warm palms moved up and down along her spine, leaving a pleasurable tingle in their wake. Rachel sighed and re-settled her ear against Quinn's chest, listened intently to the strong sounding pulse. Quinn inhaled deeply and Rachel's head moved with it, unconsciously she mirrored the pattern until they were breathing in tandem. She twisted her head just a little, still wanting to hear the rhythm of Quinn's life but wanting more. Always more. Like the smell of her fabric softener and her hair products. Clean cotton and citrus and a hint of something just Quinn.
It didn't take long for her to drop back into dreamland, ushered in by the feeling of something she could only call love.
END