You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling
A/N: My first fanfic in about ten years. I like it, and hope you do too. Comments are appreciated, constructive criticism is welcome. This is a future fic, set during college. Goes AU right before Journey: Quinn kept the baby (renamed Hannah Beth), and started a relationship with Rachel in high school. If you have any questions/confusion about my timeline please let me know. Beta'd by neilegni, you should read her amazing work on ff. Rated M for Santana's excessive swearing and the possibility of a later sex scene. Chapters named after 60s songs. Enjoy!
Chapter One: Where Did Our Love Go
"Ima. Ima. Imaaaaaaa."
Rachel put down her checkbook with a sigh and looked down at the little girl, who was currently sitting on the floor and looking up with her with big hazel eyes and a little pout on her lips.
"Sweetie, Ima has to balance her checkbook so we can save up enough money to send you to Julliard. Wouldn't you like to go to Julliard without the hassle of applying for financial aid?" she explained.
The toddler's gaze did not falter. "Want to hear a story. Tell me a story now, please Ima?"
Rachel leaned down and brushed the little girl's dark hair out of her eyes. "Hannah, Ima can't read you a story right now. Maybe later, after your nap."
Hannah Beth Fabray (Puck had wanted the baby to have his last name but Rachel lectured him for an hour about the patriarchy until he gave up just to get her to stop yelling) lifted up her little chin, in a slightly frightening impression of a young Rachel before a storm-out. "Fine. Don't want your stories. Don't like hearing about Elba." She turned and waddled out of the kitchen, towards her dollhouse in the living room. Rachel's mouth dropped.
"Did you hear that? She used to love stories about Elphaba! I've shown her a recording of Wickedseveral times and she seemed very captivated!" Rachel said in a voice several octaves higher than her normal one.
Sitting across from Rachel at the kitchen table was Quinn, with her long blonde hair piled up in a messy bun and her reading glasses on. Quinn had never worn them back in high school because she was embarrassed by the way they looked, but Rachel had convinced her to put them on occasionally after giving many speeches about the appeal of girls in glasses. A slideshow of female celebrities in glasses may have been involved. She placed down the bills she'd been going through and looked at her girlfriend affectionately.
"Baby, she's just trying to get to you. She's very fond of your Elphaba stories, I promise," Quinn said in a soothing voice. It didn't work.
"That's even worse!" said Rachel, beginning to make frantic hand motions. "She's developing an attitude! She's giving me cheek! If we don't nip this in the bud, it could develop exponentially and grow out of control by her teenage years. I do not think we have room in the budget for a behavioral therapist but perhaps we can set aside some money for toddler-rearing books."
After nearly three years as Rachel's girlfriend, Quinn had plenty of practice handling Rachel's…forcefulnature. She explained patiently, "You know, I don't think it's much of a problem right now. She's three years old and she's testing our boundaries a bit. As long as we stay firm with her, I don't think her attitude will go beyond normal kid stuff." She paused. "Also, I don't think people use the phrase 'giving me cheek' anymore."
Rachel made a face. "They don't?"
"No. Don't worry, I'll be the cool mom and you can be the hot mom."
Rachel laughed. "I'm not the only hot mom in this room."
"Oh, that is a horrible pick-up line."
Rachel started to lean across the table towards her girlfriend. "Well, you started it." Their lips had barely brushed together before a loud thump followed by a piercing scream came from the other room. Quinn's body jerked and before she even thought about moving, she was in the living room, holding Hannah's squirming body as the toddler cried loudly.
"Is she okay?" Rachel asked as she moved toward the two.
Quinn held her daughter tightly in her arms and replied, "Yeah, I think she dropped something on her foot." She looked down at the little girl and kissed her forehead. "Poor baby, it's okay. Mommy's here, honey."
Rachel walked closer and kissed Hannah's left foot. "Did I kiss it better, sweetie?" Hannah's tears slowed down and she nodded. Quinn took a look at the foot in question. "Hmm, looks like she scrapped it a bit. Time to get out the Neosporin. Will you hold her while I grab the kit, babe?" She passed her over to Rachel. Before Quinn walked out of the room, Rachel blurted out, "Quinn, let's have a date night this weekend. Maybe we could-" she looked down nervously at Hannah and continued speaking in a stage whisper "-finish what we started in the kitchen".
Quinn bit her lower lip before saying, "Sweetie, I'm taking a few extra shifts at the bakery this weekend. You know money's a bit tight this month. We'll go out soon, okay? I'll make it up to you." She smiled apologetically before leaving the room in search of the first aid kit. Rachel sighed and held Hannah closer to her. Normally she would go after Quinn and explain the detriments that lack of together time could have on their long-term relationship and perhaps cite a few studies, but she just felt too depressed to put in the effort.
"—so then I tried to explain to her that we couldn't get a freaking dog because it would piss on all my nice clothes and we finallymoved out of that shithole apartment and live in someplace halfway decent for once and I am not going to let some fleabag fuck up my place. And I explained it to her all nice and patient and I'm stillsleeping on the goddamn couch. Tell me what to do, Berry. Berry. Hey, I'm talking to you, Frodo! Jesus, are you on downers or something?"
Rachel looked up from her latte to see a thoroughly annoyed Santana tapping her fingers impatiently on the table.
"Because fuck if I care what you put in your system, but for some reason Q likes you so if you've got a drug addiction just tell me now so I can drag your ass to rehab."
Rachel sighed heavily. "Santana, you know you're just going to buy Brittany the puppy. Get it this weekend before someone else does and put a nice bow around its neck. She'll forgive you, she always does. She loves you. You two—you two have a beautiful relationship. Meaningful. Eternal."
Santana stared at Rachel in horror. "Berry, are you about to start crying? Stop it. Stop that right now. I can't handle that shit. Look, stop crying and I'll buy you candy." Rachel had gone from teary-eyed to sobbing into a napkin.
"Quinn—doesn't—love—me—anymore!" she wailed, her shoulders shaking. Santana started digging through her purse until she found a bottle of aspirin. After chasing two Tylenols down with her coffee, she leaned towards Rachel and extended out a napkin. Rachel grabbed it and started dapping at her mascara stains, a pointless feat as she was still crying.
"Okay, Teensy," said Santana, "Tell me what's got your granny panties in a twist this time. Everybody knows Q digs your crazy ass."
"We don't go on dates anymore! We don't do couple things anymore, we don't talk about things other than the baby and bills and maybe homework. Even though my dads are paying for my tuition and Quinn's got financial aid and we live in an apartment the size of a shoebox, money's still tight and Quinn is always worried. And I love Hannah, I love our daughter so much, but I need one night without her and Quinn just said no! We haven't made love in weeks and we are used to a very healthy sex life! I asked her if she wanted to try a dildo-"
"Oh my god, stoptalking,I am so sorry I asked you."
"but she said there wasn't any money for that and I just miss her so much, I miss her so much, I can't lose her—"
"RACHEL," Santana yelled while grabbing Rachel's shirt sleeve and giving it a hard tug. Rachel was so surprised to hear Santana using her first name that she made a small squeaking noise before falling silent. Santana rubbed her temples. She didn't like Rachel, no matter what Brittany said to the contrary. She did not.Her favorite coffee shop happened to be about halfway in between Fordham University, where Santana studied pre-law, and Julliard, where Rachel went. When Rachel found out that Santana liked to get coffee there before her classes, she just started showing up and wouldn't leave. Went on about bondingtimeand circleoffriendshipuntil Santana started showing up without complaint just to stop hearing the friendship lecture every damn day. But she did not like Berry, okay? She just didn't want to hear Quinn crying and moaning and dying of a tequila overdose.
"Look, I'll talk to Quinn. We'll figure something out. Just…calm yourself," said Santana. Rachel looked up at her with adoration in her eyes. "Oh, Santana, thank you so much. I know that Quinn respects your opinion and deeply values your friendship, as do I, though we have our rocky moments. But when times get tough, here you are, like a chivalrous steed—"
"Jesus, I'mleavingnow."
Quinn Fabray did not have what anyone could call a quiet life. She was halfway through to getting her psychology degree from NYU in the hopes of becoming a high school guidance counselor, she worked her ass off at a small bakery by her apartment, and she was madly in love with an aspiring Broadway singer and a toddler, two of the loudest kinds of people on earth. She was happier than she ever thought she could be, but she was exhausted and getting sick of finding flour and jam in her hair, courtesy of her job and Hannah respectively. So sometimes when she was feeling really overwhelmed, she'd play a little game in her head. She called it Where in the World, and it basically consisted of her pretending that she and Rach and Hannah (and Brittany and Santana if she was feeling generous or thought that Hannah would need a babysitter) were in some fantastic location. Today, instead of looking over her class notes, she was on a beach in California. No, she thought, let's make it Hawaii. A beach in Hawaii, where she was in a hammock swinging between two palm trees and Rachel was sunbathing in a little black bikini, the kind where all you had to do was tug on a string and it'd all come off…
Quinn's fantasy was cruelly interrupted by the whine of her doorbell. She groaned and banged her forehead against the kitchen table. Brrring.Brrrrinngg.
"OKAY, I'm coming!" she yelled in the door's general direction. The second she opened it, she was tackled by a blonde blur.
"Quinn, it's been so long! Me and Santana and Butterball were worried about you!" said Brittany, still clinging tightly to her friend. Quinn relaxed into the hug and patted Brittany's back. It really had been too long since she'd seen her oldest friends.
"I've missed you too, Brit. Who's Butterball?" Quinn thought she heard a familiar groan come from the doorway. Brittany pulled back and clapped her hands in excitement, then started digging through her purse.
"Butterball is our new puppy!" exclaimed Brittany, waving her found cell phone in the air. The tall blonde pressed a few buttons on her phone and then showed Quinn a photo of an adorable Golden Lab puppy. "I came home one day and little Butterball was on our bed with a red collar and a blue ribbon around her neck! I was so happy that I forgot I was mad at Santana."
Quinn smiled warmly. "That's great, Brittany. Maybe sometime soon you can bring her over. I bet your goddaughter would love to meet her."
Brittany smiled back. "I don't need an excuse to see Hannah, Q. It'd be great to bring Butterball over." Her smile started to dim. "Although lately when you say 'see you soon' it actually means 'I won't get to see you for a long time and it will be really sad'".
Quinn felt the pangs of guilt in her chest. It was impossible to see Brittany look sad without feeling like the world's biggest asshole. "I'm sorry, Brittany. I know I haven't been there lately," she said, hoping her sincerity came across.
Brittany put a hand on her shoulder, her blue eyes solemn. "I know, Quinn. That's why we're here for your invention."
Santana finally spoke up from the doorway. "You mean intervention, babe. We're here for her intervention." Brittany looked over her shoulder and grinned at her girlfriend. "Yeah, that's what I mean. Thanks, San." Santana smiled at Brittany with so much love, Quinn couldn't help but smile too. Years later, she still felt beyond relieved that those two had finally become an official couple during senior year.
Santana looked away from Brittany and gave Quinn a glare. "So Q, is your concubine around?"
Quinn rolled her eyes. "Jesus, Santana, what if Hannah was around and picked that one up? Bad enough that one of her first words was 'asshole'."
"In my defense, that cab driver really was being an asshole."
"Like that's news in this city. The point is, don't call Rachel that. And she's at Central Park with Hannah. Why do you ask?"
Santana walked past Quinn and started opening the kitchen cabinets, pushing through cereal boxes and occasionally turning her head to talk over her shoulder. "We had coffee this afternoon and she got all crazy with me."
Brittany shook her head, a small smile on her face. "What Santana means is that Rachel got upset and Santana is worried about her but doesn't want to seem like she cares about her."
Santana groans. "Come on, B." The brunette grabbed a box of Captain Crunch from the cabinet and looked over at Quinn. "Look, if she's upset about something and doesn't want to tell you then either she tells me or she tells Brit who tells me. Either way I have to hear about it, and I have shit to do, okay? I'm trying to get into law school."
Quinn tried to smile but couldn't quite pull it off. Santana wouldn't come to Quinn about Rachel unless something was really wrong. Her heart felt as heavy as a stone. What was going on with her girl?
Santana was digging through the cabinets again. "Where'd you move the bowls? I swear you do this just to confuse me." Quinn walked over and grabbed the box from her friend's hands.
"It's almost five, S; you can't have cereal for dinner. I'll make you pasta, sit down," she said as she steered Santana towards the kitchen table.
Santana smirked at her. "You're such a mama bear, Q."
Brittany sat next to her girlfriend, then leaned over and kissed her cheek. "We'll be mama bears in a couple of years, San!" Santana paled and muttered something that sounded like "knew this would happen if I bought that dog".
Quinn started going through the motions of making dinner. Though her hands were busy, her mind was racing. "Can we please talk about Rachel? Why was she upset?" And why wouldn't she tell me? she added silently.
Santana fidgeted in the kitchen stool. The last time Quinn had seen Santana look so uncomfortable was the day she came out to her parents. "Just tell me, San," she said quietly, sitting down next to her friend. Brittany walked over to the stove to take up the cooking, kissing the top of Quinn's head as she passed by.
Santana sighed and looked Quinn in the eyes. "Okay. Alright. She seemed…really sad. She wasn't talking so much I wanted to stuff cotton in my ears; she wasn't smiling or bouncing around like a Furby. Then she started crying out of nowhere. Said that you didn't love her anymore".
It felt like someone had her intestines in a vice grip. How could Rachel think she'd fallen out of love with her? Ever since their first kiss back in high school, Rachel had become the sun she orbited around. "That's just, that's just dumb," she sputtered. "I mean, what…I don't even. Where does she come up with this? Everybody knows I'm crazy about her. Even Finnfigured it out senior year." She didn't mention that he figured it out over six months after the rest of the Glee kids.
"She said that you don't want to go on dates or do dumb sappy things with her anymore. And she said some truly disturbing things about your sex life that I may never recover from. I'm pretty sure her main point was she wasn't getting any."
Quinn opened her mouth to defend herself before the words started to sink in. While Rachel's dramatic nature sometimes caused her to overreact (one of the most memorable example was the time she decided that Quinn no longer loved her because Quinn wore black three days in a row), Quinn knew that she hadn't been the most attentive partner lately. Leave it to Rachel to get the meaning completely wrong. If Rach could just wait a little bit longer, Quinn was so close to accomplishing her goal.
Santana raised an eyebrow. "So, what is it? Is the hobbit going to have to head back to the Shire?"
"You are such a nerd. Tell me, how many times have you watched the Lord of the Rings movies?"
"Whatever, Fabray, Arwen is hot."
"I'm sorry, that's not a name I recognize. Why don't you tell me the address of your favorite fansite so I can look it up?"
"You can look up my—"
"Stop the violence!" Brittany called over her shoulder, still stirring the marinara sauce. Santana blew her girl a kiss, and then focused her attention back on Quinn. Quinn knew from years of experience that once Santana had something set in her crosshairs, there was no escaping.
"Look, I'm not going to break up with Rachel. I've just had to be very focused on saving up money, which means more working hours and less girlfriend time. It doesn't really make matters easier than I'm also trying to get a college degree and raise a belligerent toddler. I love Rachel, but if she could just be patient,just give me a break…" Quinn trailed off, breathing deeply to try and ward off frustration. "I'm not a superhero," she finished quietly. She was willing to concede that Rachel had a point, but there was no reason for her partner to hide from her and spill to Santana, of all people, instead. She thought they had gotten past secrecy.
Santana leaned forward across the counter, narrowing her eyes at Quinn. "Stop giving me your creepy I-can-read-your-mind look," Quinn snapped. Santana ignored her, turning over to Brittany instead. "Babe, do you think you can finish up the pasta on your own? Q and I need a little Captain-to-Captain time." Brittany smiled and waved them away with a sauce-covered spoon. Santana grabbed Quinn's wrist and dragged her into the living room, while Quinn muttered darkly about how Santana had been a shitty captain who couldn't do a decent back handspring to save her life. The brunette plopped down on the beat-up couch, narrowly missing getting poked by Hannah's fire truck.
"First of all, my back handsprings were a thing of glory. Second, why don't you quit dancing around the truth and tell me what's really up?"
"I told you what's really up. Why don't you quit interrogating me like a crazy?"
Santana rolled her eyes so hard Quinn thought they might get stuck up there. "Because you're my friend, you bitch."
"Gee, I can really feel your affection."
"Please, you know sappy is not how I roll. I'm trying to ask if you're okay. What more do you want, a friendship bracelet?"
"I guess I should stop braiding."
Santana looked nervous for a second, and then reached over to start awkwardly patting Quinn on the hand. "I'm worried about you, idiot," she said in the gentle tone normally reserved for Brittany. "I don't know what you're trying to hide, but it's clearly something. I don't think you've fallen out of love with Rachel, but I don't know what's up. Just tell me and I can do something." Santana's expression shifted from nervous to extremely uncomfortable. "Look, you know I admire you for making it without your dad's money. I get the whole pride thing, but if you need a loan, I can give it to you and it doesn't have to be a big deal, okay? We could do it and never talk about it again."
Quinn gave her friend a small smile. "I haven't heard you say that since that time at cheerleading camp when Brittany wasn't talking to you and you got lonely."
"I still say that you should forever regret passing up on that once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, because once you go Lopez, you never go back."
"That doesn't even rhyme. It doesn't work if it doesn't rhyme."
"Would you stop trying to change the subject?"
Quinn threw up her hands in mock-surrender. "Okay, okay. Thank you for offering that. Really. I know that when money comes up I tend to get a little—"
"Stubborn? Unreasonable? Crazy?"
"—touchy.But we're really not in some dire financial straits. I'm saving up for something but I don't want to freak Rachel out about it." Santana arched an eyebrow, clearly asking for elaboration. Quinn hesitated briefly, quickly prayed to God to not smite her for lying, and then continued with "I'd like for Hannah to get into private school. They're very costly so I'm saving up now. I don't want Rachel to know about it for now, because she'd get so stressed out and make lots of charts and pie graphs. It's not for another two years, anyways. So I'm planning on telling her in a year or so, after I've already got a head start on tuition." Quinn felt horrible lying to Santana. It reminded her of high school, the years before Hannah and Rachel, which were times that she really preferred not to think about. But she didn't think that she had any other choice. She just wasn't ready to tell anyone what she was working so hard for. It was as if saying it out loud would push down on a domino, and then the whole plan would collapse. She just wished that lying to someone she loved hadn't become part of the plan.
Quinn had known Santana for almost six years. She was pretty sure that the only people who knew Santana better were Brittany and Mrs. Lopez. But every now and then, her best friend managed to surprise her.
"Okay," Santana said breezily, "so you don't want to tell me. You don't have to make up some story about private school. I may not be a parent, but I'm pretty sure that when you make a decision about your kid's education, you don't keep it from your kid's other mother—not to mention her dad—because you don't want to stress them out with, you know, actuallybeingaparent.You can keep it to yourself if you need to. Just tell me that no one's going to get hurt. And also it'd be nice if you'd fill me in when you're up for it."
Quinn tried to ignore the lump in her throat. Santana got really distressed when people cried around her. "I promise," she said after a minute, "no one is going to get hurt. I'm trying to make Rach happier. I'll tell you about it soon. I just can't right now." Santana gave her a little smile, and pushed a lock of her messy blonde hair behind her ear. "Your hair looks all fucked up, girl," she said affectionately. "When are you gonna let me chop it off again? If you're scared of looking like a lesbian, it may be too late for that."
Quinn rolled her eyes. "I only let you do that because I was depressed. I thought Rach and I were really going to break up that time."
"If I had gotten to cut your hair every time you two had 'almost broken up', you would've had a buzz cut for junior prom. You two were like Ross and Rachel that first year."
"Right, I forgot how your coming out was so easy and graceful. Also, who makes Friendsreferences anymore?"
"Brittany always watches the reruns when they're on. That Phoebe chick reminds her of her mom."
Quinn smiled and made a mental note to give the bubbly Mrs. Pierce a phone call. "It is getting a little long. Maybe if you're nice to me I'll let you cut it."
"Bitch, I'm always nice to you. I just solved your relationship problem."
"Oh, is that what you did? Hard to tell between all the cursing."
"Sorry to offend your delicate sensibilities, Pollyanna." Santana dropped her teasing tone to ask, "We're good here, Captain? You've got everything under control?"
"Yeah, Captain, we're good here." Quinn wasn't so sure about everything being under control, though. Then again, when was anyone's life fully under control? She'd just have to do the best she could to show Rachel that she was still Quinn's girl—without giving away her secret.