A/N: This fic was written for Natz's Writing Challenge at the A Little Piece of Heaven forum! The prompt was regret (it was a very open-ended prompt). Although, it actually started out as the result of my frustration at the lack of Quinn/Finn fics and listening to Elisa's "Electricity". Then the fic just sorta fit with the challenge...and the rest is history!

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or Elisa's music.


Electricity

"Your daughter, she is a dancer, living in Buenos Aires…"-Electricity; Elisa

Quinn Fabray had never seen such fluid motions in a dancer before. In the years since she had graduated high school and college, Quinn had shocked the world by becoming a teacher, and was now in charge of a Glee club in a little school in Westchester. She had remained good friends with most of her Glee club friends, and often went to the city to watch Rachel perform in whatever hit musical she was starring in. Quinn was supposed to meet up with some of her old friends after work today, but had forgotten her coat in the school's auditorium.

And there was the dancer, dancing to no music whatsoever. The girl was an age she had been once before, though had not really lived through: fourteen. Now, normally, her thoughts would've taken that bitter turn to how much she regretted giving up her daughter, and how miserable that decision sometimes made her.

But not today.

She was too distracted by the movements of the brilliant young dancer before her. Blond hair swaying ever so slightly, as the young girl's pale limbs flowed to the music. Almost like a brook, simply babbling along because it knew not what else to do. Simply because that was its only purpose, its only reason for existing.

"Stop." A voice, a very familiar voice rang out through the now silent auditorium. Quinn could not see the woman sitting behind the soundboard, and her brow furrowed in confusion as the girl on the stage smirked. Something about that smirk set off a memory in her head. Quinn couldn't really grasp at it. It was a dim light, flickering and struggling to light itself into a fully fledged memory. "Your leg in the arabesque should be demi-plié, not straight," the woman said, leaning forward into the light. Her features were heavily accented by the illumination.

Quinn gasped softly. Seeing this woman's face proved her initial instinct. She did know this woman. Not well, as she had met the woman for all of ninety seconds and had not said much to her. A fierce rush of pride struck her as she looked at the young girl on the stage, who was rolling her eyes at the woman behind the soundboard.

"Sorry, Mom," the girl said, the impish grin still on her face. Quinn was absolutely captivated by this girl, the wonder she only got to hold once, and didn't even get to say good-bye to. Tears filled her eyes, and she longed to call out to the girl on the stage, her heart breaking more and more as each agonizing second passed.

Then she remembered. Remembered what exactly the woman behind the soundboard had gone through, and how heavily it impacted the real daughter of that woman, whose show was starting fairly soon. Quinn knew she should probably leave, but couldn't. She was spellbound, completely captivated by the shining light on the stage. She felt strong arms snake around her, and she grasped at the hand that rested on her stomach, the matching bands on their left hands glinting in the stage lights.

"She's beautiful," he whispered to her, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"She is," Quinn whispered, watching the young girl glide across the stage as the music played through the auditorium.

"Are you sorry she isn't yours?" he asked her. She looked up at him, wondering how he wasn't wondering the same thing. She leaned against him, her mind thinking of the day when she had cried in his arms the day Sue Sylvester had announced that she knew Quinn had been pregnant. From that moment, Quinn should've known things would get worse.

They did, for a while. However, considering how she had progressed in life and married the man she had loved from the start, Quinn considered that her life had gotten much better by leaps and bounds, despite that one heart-wrenching loss. Still, Quinn lay awake at night thinking about the decision she had made, and wondered if the young dancer resented her for it. If the young dancer even knew who she was.

"Are you sorry she isn't yours?" Quinn asked softly. She could feel her husband tense up behind her and she murmured quickly, "I'm so sorry. If I had to do it all over again, you know I would've picked you, or avoided the choice all together." The guilt and the shame crept through her, as it often did when this subject came up between the two of them. Her voice wavered, hitching in her throat as she whispered, "I'm so sorry, Finn."

"Don't, Quinny," he whispered, taking one of her golden locks and twirling it around his finger. She tried to smile at the use of her pet name. She really couldn't. It was more of a twitch of her lips, and it was gone before anyone had truly caught it. "We talked about this. The past is the past. It's over. I forgive you, and you need to forgive yourself." He smiled softly at her. Another moment of silence passed between them before Finn said almost wistfully, "She looks just like you."

She looked at the beautiful dancer on stage. Quinn had moved with the same grace and confidence in her cheerleading days. For a moment, the dancer on the stage stopped, seeing Quinn and Finn for the first time. Quinn couldn't bear to make eye contact with the daughter she had given up, so she wordlessly bolted from the theater, Finn close behind.

It was drizzling lightly as she burst outside, fighting the tears that were pooling in her eyes. Quinn humorlessly laughed at the irony. Just seeing the drizzle dance down from the sky made her lose her composure. Her knees buckled, and she fell to the curb of the street, sobbing violently. Finn sat beside her, holding her gently. It was so reticent of the moment after Sue had exposed to the Glee club that Quinn was pregnant, that it caused her to cry harder.

He rubbed her shoulders comfortingly. "What have I done?" she moaned. "What have I done? I shouldn't have given her up. I should've…" Quinn could not finish that sentence, as a new round of sobs overtook her.

"You did what you had to do," Finn whispered consolingly into her ear. "You did what you had to do so that she would have a happy life, the best life anyone could possibly give her. Look how happy she was up on that stage."

Quinn knew he was right. She just wished she could have one, small interaction with her daughter. Just to tell her how proud I am…how sorry I am. Quinn sighed and mumbled, "Let's just go." Finn helped her to her feet and they walked over to the car.

Just as she was about to open the door, a voice rang out, "Ma'am! Wait!" Quinn turned around, and there was Beth, bounding toward her. She could only stand stockstill, her heart soaring as Beth came closer and closer. "You left your jacket," Beth panted, handing Quinn her jacket.

Quinn took the jacket, seeing that this was the chance she had yearned for. There was so much to say, that she didn't even know where to begin. She could only stand, feeling enveloped by the pure light her daughter radiated. There's just so much to say…

Beth fidgeted from foot to foot, looking very much like a lost child. She seemed vary, almost timid around these two strangers, not knowing how much the woman in front of her cared about her. It was then Quinn realized that now was not the time to tell her daughter of everything that had been simmering in her chest for the past fourteen years. Beth still had so much of her life ahead of her, and Quinn did not want to drag her daughter down with the dreaded thoughts of 'what if'.

So she smiled gently at the young girl and murmured, "Thank you." Watching the blonde hair bounce as Beth bounded into the theater; Quinn smiled, feeling absolutely no regrets about what had just occurred. She had gotten what she wanted. Turning to Finn, she said, "Let's go."

As they drove away, Quinn swore she saw Beth waving at them. She waved back, and was rewarded with Beth's face lighting up, a memory worth all the regrets.


I don't know what's with me and endings lately. Anyway, enjoy, review, you know the drill! Also, if you've never listened to Elisa, you SHOULD.