Disclaimer: Own not. Profit not. Sue not.
AN: And now for something completely different! Prepare yourselves for a major dose of fluff. No, really. I think I got a cavity just writing it. Interestingly enough, this is also the longest work I've done so far. I'm hoping you will like it.
Dykstra's Law: Everybody's somebody's weirdo.
With a soft, fluttering feeling in her stomach, Quinn eased her apartment door open and slid inside with the barest rustle of clothing. The giddy, warm, sensation, spread from her stomach outwards, sweeping over her entire body – she had to resist the urge to skip around the room.
Already removing her pistol and badge, she crept down the short hallway towards the bedroom with a stealthy grace. The butterflies fled from her stomach only to take refuge in her chest when she cracked the door open a bit and peeked inside to see a Rachel-sized lump lost in a sea of blankets.
Rachel Berry, in her bed.
Unbelievable.
The blonde felt her smile soften as that dopey, lovesick, rush came over her. She ran a pale hand through her hair, sometimes still struck dumb that this could actually be her life.
Slinking further into the room she deposited her firearm, badge, credentials and keys on the small table on 'her' side of the bed. She kept an eye on Rachel while she stripped, not wanting to wake her. Pulling the blankets up she discovered her girlfriend asleep on her stomach, clad in the blonde's gray Georgetown t-shirt, fists curled up by her head. Quinn shook her head and smirked, making a note to tease Rachel about stealing her clothes all the time and crawled in behind the soundly sleeping brunette.
A quiet groan fell from her lips as the soft bed and cool sheets enveloped her in a welcoming embrace. She tugged the diminutive diva into her arms and could've cried at how heavenly it all felt. She was so, so, tired and her bed really was her most favorite place – especially when Rachel was in it. Quinn curled herself even closer to Rachel's limp body, wrapping her up snugly and pressing her face into ink-black hair.
Rachel finally stirred against her, one small hand trailing ticklishly over the arm Quinn had draped across her. "Is this real?"
Quinn's stomach clenched hard and something in her chest seemed to fracture at the barely audible question. She'd often asked herself the same thing, but hearing it from Rachel was completely different.
"Of course it is," she said, and flexed her arms around the smaller woman's waist, hoping she felt how real it was. The slight frame in her arms shifted, silky skin slithering against her in a way that made the softest of fabrics an absolute joke and then there she was. Big brown eyes blinked at her drowsily as Rachel nuzzled against her pillow, a lopsided smile curling her pink lips. Rachel exhaled heavily, as though she'd expected to turn and find Quinn absent – really nothing more than a dream.
The urge to kiss those full lips was strong, they practically begged for it, but she closed her eyes, resisting temptation.
"Hi," she said instead.
"Hello," the ever formal Rachel responded and Quinn rolled her eyes in charmed exasperation.
"Hi," she said again, stressing the word that much more, delighted when it earned her a sleepy chuckle. She'd teach Rachel to talk like a normal human if it was the last thing she ever did.
"Hi," Rachel huffed, then turned her mouth back into her pillow to hide her laughter.
Quinn found the idea of continuing this conversation with a 'hola' or 'guten tag' compelling, just to see how many different ways Rachel would think of to overdo a simple greeting, but she saw the brunette's eyes drooping. Those coffee colored, soul expressing, orbs disappeared behind heavy lids, then reappeared before falling to half-mast in a random lazy pattern as she fought to stay awake. Quinn couldn't help but chuckle.
"Wha-?" Rachel mumbled and wormed in closer, trying to steal more body heat.
"You're adorable," Quinn said against the warm skin of the diva's forehead. Gentle lips whispered a kiss over her collarbone and she shivered at the light sensation as Rachel settled more comfortably against her. "It's not fair."
"What's that they say? 'Life's not fair'?" Tiny hands curled into fists against her stomach, instantly shooting a pang of longing through Quinn.
The ghost of her baby, lingering still.
"They do say that," she agreed a moment later when she trusted her voice again, swallowing against the lump in her throat.
"What's wrong?"
Quinn bit back a sigh, silently cursing Rachel's damned perceptiveness. "Nothing. Nothing at all, just to happy to be here with you."
A pause went through the brunette, a small change in her breathing signaling that she'd caught onto her fib. She waited to be called on it, absentmindedly smoothing a palm over Rachel's hair – soothing both of them with the steady strokes.
"No secrets?" came the hesitant request.
"I sometimes still feel Beth." There. She said it. Admitted it out loud. Immediately tears pricked at the back of her eyes and the once benign mass stuck in her throat turned into a hot coal.
Rachel went still again, no doubt watching an internal montage of High School, much as Quinn was.
Pure agony, that's all the agent could think or feel when she remembered herself. Sixteen, pregnant, nowhere to go and no-one at her side. Her life had been over. Never once had she blamed the life growing in her. From that first ultrasound, to the first kick and onward, it had been her and her baby against the world. Then the first time she'd seen her, Beth, it was suddenly so real and she fell instantly into heartbreaking love.
But she couldn't keep her, couldn't give her the life she deserved and it hurt so damn much. She'd ripped a piece of her heart free that day and willingly given it away and buried the rest as far down as she could to get away from it. Never spoke of her daughter, tried not to remember her sweet baby girl but sometimes, in moments she didn't choose, the memories, the whispers of a life that had once been entangled with hers smacked against her like a runaway train.
Quinn realized she was crying and it was too late to keep Rachel from noticing because the burning saline drops had already fallen into her dark hair.
"Did I – "
"No." Quinn shook her head and struggled to rein in her emotions. "It just happens sometimes. My body remembers, even though there's no baby now."
"Quinn," Rachel whimpered and started pressing achingly tender kisses all over the blondes collarbone and neck.
"It's alright," she assured the trembling brunette. "You should go back to sleep, I know you're tired." When she glanced over at the clock she immediately wished she hadn't bothered to look.
"But we're not working tomorrow," Rachel reminded her, her protest trailing off at the end.
Damn it, her eyes had been drying up, but now a fresh wave welled. Sometimes she just didn't feel worthy of Rachel. A small part of her would probably always believe that there was no way someone like her deserved any part of wonderful, adorable, special, crazy Rachel. Her heart ached in harmony with the thought and she wondered if she'd ever fully forgive herself for the scars she imagined riddled Rachel's.
Thanks to her.
"That's not an excuse for ignoring proper sleep, Quinn, your body needs rest,'" she quoted, proud of her impression. Rachel growled and it was about as vicious as a tea-cup Chihuahua puppy.
"You're making fun of me!"
Quinn squirmed down until she was nose to nose with her pouting girlfriend and this time caved in to her desire and kissed the lower lip that was jutting out at her. "I would never!"
Rachel looked like she might continue to argue, the gaze of her dark eyes flickering all over the blonde's face, but finally she merely huffed a sigh, rolled her eyes and kissed her again. They separated and came together again and again, trading warm and lengthening connections. Quinn's hands itched with the need to feel skin, so she slipped her palms over the diva's ribs then under the hem of her shirt and back up, groaning at the feel of soft, hot, flesh. Rachel hummed but pulled away with a short, farewell, kiss – much to Quinn's chagrin. Her little body burrowed it's way impossibly closer, like she was trying to completely melt into Quinn and make them one person.
"I can feel you thinking," the pint sized diva sniffed after several long minutes. Her fists flexed and sent another tremor racing through the now exhausted blonde.
"Sorry," the agent apologized because she should, but not for thinking so loudly. Once her heart had stopped jack-hammering in her chest and her breathing had settled back to normal her mind had indeed taken off again. Threatening to drown her in an sea of depression with thoughts of Beth and the memories of her cruelty to the woman now nestled against her.
"Talk, Quinn."
"Do you ever think about Shelby?" It was out before she could think about it, before she could gentle the blow she'd dealt. It just confirmed her quiet fear – that she always hurt Rachel, inadvertently or not, she was always hurting Rachel.
"Yes." Her voice wasn't small or timid in its answer. It was matter of fact. Which to most would indicate indifference with the topic. But Quinn knew better, she loved Rachel, every bit of her and because of that she knew more than anyone else. In fact, though she would have denied it and promised to take it to her grave if confronted about it, 16 year old Quinn Fabray had known Rachel that well, all those years ago. "You're not her, you know."
"I know." That wasn't what she'd meant, so the blonde started moving her hands again, tracing the lines and muscle of Rachel's toned back and shoulders. She waited patiently for her to figure it out. It wouldn't take long.
"Oh." Rachel inhaled sharply and pulled back, not completely out of Quinn's hold, just enough to prop herself up on an elbow and support her head on her palm.
Quinn bit her lip as she took in Rachel's expression.
"Quinn, I'm sure she missed you, misses you. You're her mother and nobody else will ever be that. You gave her life, sunshine, and the fact is you didn't have to." Her eyes scanned over her face as she spoke, and her sable eyebrows drew together. "That's not what you were thinking about though. Well, it is, but there's something else. What aren't you saying? You don't have to keep it all bottled up with me."
"I love you," Quinn confessed. "I love you and I can't let you go even though I don't think I really should get to have you."
Rachel's hand thumped down onto the mattress, her mouth worked like she was talking but no sounds came out. "You love me?" She finally squeaked out.
She nodded, unable to speak, and looked intently down at the mattress, blonde hair flowing over her face, hiding her.
Abruptly she could see again, her honey colored curtain was gone. Rachel was cradling her cheeks, and staring deep, brown eyes glistening with a sheen of unshed tears. "Don't hide from me. Quinn, you don't have to hide from me. Listen to me, okay, I need you to listen to one of my Rachel Berry speeches and remember everything I'm about to say because I think it would kill me if you don't believe me the first time.
"I love you too, Quinn Fabray – in a way that defies explanation or description. I can't tell you how much I love you, or figure out any way to measure it. I've never felt this way about anyone before. It's shocking and quite honestly a little scary because, my god, you're Quinn Fabray.
"I've thought about this a lot, certainly after I realized that I was, in fact, head over heels in love with someone who used to make me cry on a regular basis. We're like those, um, those arch enemies that hate each other simply because of the passion they feel for one another and shouldn't or don't want to, whatever. I don't really have this ramble very well planned out, but fuck it, I'm just going to keep talking until I get it all out.
"Quinn, the fact of the matter is, as awful as you think you were all those years ago, I was just as bad. Selfish, spoiled, diva Princess who stormed out of classrooms and demanded my boyfriend raise our future babies in the Jewish faith. I was inconsiderate, entitled. Oh god, Quinn I could go on and on. If anything, I don't think that I could ever deserve you. Because you've changed so much, you've grown and pulled yourself together, mended things and become this amazing woman. I'm still that teenager, I'm a diva and that's just fact.
"Yes, I've grown too and yes I'm more mature and have better control of all my Berryisms, but that doesn't stop me from feeling completely unworthy of you. I don't care that you insulted me and drew pictures of me anymore. You were not the worst part of my High School experience – beyond that, it's not like you killed my parents or anything. I'm a strong person, made stronger because of the things I endured and learned from, just like you. In conclusion, Quinn, we deserve each other. I love you too, I've loved you since that first night at the bar. So I'm begging you, please don't let go. Don't ever let me go."
Panting, the brunette finally stopped, and both of them were crying. Quinn looked so shocked. Rachel had to smile sheepishly, it certainly wasn't her longest ramble to date, but it was her most fiery one for sure.
Quinn lunged forward, scaring Rachel into her second squeak of the night. The blonde gripped her fiercely, holding fistfuls of her stolen college t-shirt and raven locks while she tucked her nose and lips against her girlfriends ear. "I won't. I promise, I won't let go. I'll never go where you can't follow or where I can't chase you."
"You're squishing me," Rachel cried indignantly, her voice wavering with the tears currently soaking into Quinn's shoulder and pillow.
"Sorry," the blonde moved back and cupped the diva's face, thumbs rubbing away the salty trails. "I love you."
The brunette beamed soggily and laughed, "I know! I love you too."
"Can I say it all night?" Quinn asked hopefully.
"Technically, I think the night is over, but you can say it all the time, whenever you want. I'll never get tired of hearing it."
The hurricane of emotions they'd just survived left her with the feeling of having been scrubbed clean and the smile that threatened to crack her cheeks couldn't be restrained. Quinn felt giddy and lighter than a feather, she suddenly understood that crazy cliché about shouting love from rooftops. Her whole body was awash with energy, boundless, bright, bubbly, energy. It needed to get out, somehow.
She surged forward and crashed her mouth back down onto Rachel's, wound the other woman tightly in her arms and poured everything she was feeling into a physical expression because there was no way words were going to do it. And her diva met her, kiss for kiss, touch for touch, moaning and whimpering and shuddering right along with her.
Quinn growled at the shirt that was getting in her way, trapping her hands and keeping her mouth away from so much of Rachel. She tugged and whined in the back of her throat, couldn't give voice to her frustration because her mouth was otherwise occupied. Thankfully, Rachel was of a similar mind and wrenched herself away to yank the material free, baring her skin to the chill of the room. Swiftly, she dove back down under the blankets and threw herself back into the blonde. Tan skin clashed against pale as they wrestled for control. With a snarl and a nip at Rachel's slender shoulder Quinn successfully rolled them, pinning her girlfriend under her with ease. She dug her teeth into her lip as she looked down at the brunette sprawled out under her, saw dark eyes and swollen lips and irritated skin where Quinn had marked her.
"I love you," she declared again, proudly, and swooped back in, attacking that elegant neck with renewed fervor.
It wasn't night anymore, Rachel had said, so as Quinn pulled the diva closer yet and heard her name husked out when her mouth descended on supple flesh, she knew that it was already shaping up to be the best day of her life.
TBC...