Author's Note: This can be viewed as a continuation to Layers or you can take it on its own. Draft was done at work because there's downtime and its very strange I really like my job. And a lot of what I've done, think and have said went into this so maybe be amused how random I am. This is unedited. Hope you enjoy. Thanks for taking the time to read.

Its the small things that make up the big picture. Rachel firmly believed that. If anyone looked at the obvious, larger picture anyone would wonder how Quinn and Rachel even started dating let alone remained together for years. Context was everything.

Rachel loved that Quinn had really settled into herself and abandoned her fake bravado she used as a shield in high school. She was more serene, more certain and far less likely to lash out. There was still an edge to her but the brunette knew it was more so Quinn's protective nature that fueled any desire to give up etiquette and consider to ramifications when she felt someone was over stepping with Rachel. She knew Quinn would become very quiet and try to breathe deeply through her nose if she told the blonde anything that was upsetting. But she loved that if she was stressed or exhausted due to anything building she would ask Quinn, "so do you want to horizontally lie down together?"

Because Quinn hated the word cuddle. She loved the opportunity to half mock the writer and mumble into the space between her shoulder and neck "such a romantic". Even if her life depended on it she wouldn't admit to it even though the taller woman would within seconds finish up whatever she was doing and head to the bedroom to be used as a human pillow.

Quinn loved Rachel's OCD. How she meticulously put everything into a planner. She even loved that it was a physical, little book planner instead of on her phone. One day she came home to discover Rachel had metal strips put along the bindings of her various notebooks to say in beautiful script IDEAS, Scripts In Progress, and EDIT. Some people may be annoyed their office may have been touched but Quinn tilted her head, thought it was sweet and thoughtful Rachel helped her scattered mind.

Even though Rachel was seemingly uptight she loved that she could be spontaneous and would come home with another tattoo somewhere on her. It was only until they were showering together or having sex did Quinn find them which lead to smirking and contentment in brown eyes when Quinn looked so intent and concentrated as her fingertips would pass over the raised skin.

"Another engraving?" Rachel smiled a smile that was only seen when with Quinn. This was their routine and when asked why she referred to them as such the blonde gently said, "because they're words and if you chose to have a picture put on I would call it art, not simply a tattoo." That earned her a harder, more passionate kiss because Quinn understood it, knew that it went beyond expression, that they were really for herself, which is why she never outwardly shared them with anyone.

Its why when they went to an antique show, an event Quinn had to somewhat drag her to and bribe her with dessert from her favorite cafe did she see Quinn marvel at objects. Rather than ask why she watched the blonde interact with the vendors and overhear her say to an elderly woman, "they have a history, a story to each thing," she said whimsically. "Imagine if they could talk,' said the older woman with joy after the compliment Quinn had paid her of,"you have wonderful pieces." She knew Quinn could have spent half the day there if they weren't on a schedule for their monthly lunch date with Brittany and Santana. The taller woman kept going back to a skeleton watch that was four hundred and fifty dollars and although she had the money Rachel knew Quinn rarely splurged on herself. Being that she was a self-proclaimed minimalist Rachel narrowed her eyes as pale fingers gently set the watch down and walk away with her head tilted. A sign she was contemplating, but Rachel wasn't surprised when she straightened up and walked to the next booth. With a hand placed on the writer's lower back Rachel leaned in and whispered, as to not break Quinn's search for whatever nostalgic item she was hoping to find, "I'm going to find a rest room." A small nod was offered and the old fashioned woman who had given up her baby doll dresses for JCREW and a more mature look nodded and took a few steps away. Rachel waited, peeking behind a canvas mannequin with a top hat that Quinn had rounded the corner. Quickly she bought the watch from the older gentleman, speaking softly, who in turn kept his voice down as well. When the singer explained it was for an anniversary gift he smiled and even offered a discount. For a second Rachel thought Quinn's cynical commentary how Valentine's Day was a gimmick to make money had just been thrown a wrench passed through her mind, but this wasn't for Valentine's Day. A month later on their four years together Rachel tried to memorize the look of shock from Quinn because it hard to ever surprise the contemplative, observant woman and she was often poised to the point people noted she seemed cold.

Rachel, however was accustomed to it and loved that it could stun people. She took slight glee that Quinn could throw people off. One time a drunk coworker of Rachel's told the blonde Rachel was really hot. Unbeknownst to them the singer was within hearing distance and overheard the writer reply, "she's usually a 98.6 I imagine. She doesn't usually get sick, but if you mean gorgeous, sexy, cute, and a slue of things then yes." Rachel caught the smirk behind the raised glass even though Quinn's tone was very deadpan. Without missing a beat she decided to play along as she slid over and wrapped an arm around Quinn's lower back.

"You're weird." Because the blonde still wasn't gracious at accepting a compliment which was on the tip of her tongue-you're adorable and such a weirdo. "For such a creative person," she said loud enough for her coworker to hear "you are such a literalist."

"That's not a thing babe," Quinn replied with a smirk.

"Yeah, that's not a thing and you're not the boss of me," she poked her in the ribs knowing the blonde would catch the Pitch Perfect reference as her tone turned angry for show.

Smoothly the taller woman pulled the singer closer and whispered, "we're really pulling this guys leg here" then turned back. Locking eyes with the coworker whose name she forgot because frankly she didn't care enough but having fun with Rachel was always enjoyable, "She is hot. Hot tempered. God, you have no idea how many plates we've gone through because she throws them in a rage." It was comical to see the man-child's eyes widen.

"We're kidding." Rachel finally offered as she patted him on the arm and walked away with Quinn.

"You are OBSESSED with Pitch Perfect." The blonde said once they were outside.

"It was too easy." The smaller woman replied with a bounce in her stride. "Also you HATE when people say someone is hot." She stated factually.

"Its a stupid expression. I would have let it slide if he said you were attractive." She said with a shrug. "Point being-I love you. You're absurd. And I love you." Quinn said gently.

"I love you. You're brilliant. And I love you." Rachel replied in a snap.

"You only like me for my brain." Quinn replied in fake annoyance.

"Don't be absurd," Rachel huffed. "That's my thing. I like you for your cheekbones."The brunette glanced up at the blonde who was smirking.

"You're so vain," Quinn sang the famous Carly Simon line.

"You probably think this song is about you..." Rachel picked up and sang through the streets as they made their way home.

Weeks later Quinn was sick. Though few people would describe the semi-anti-social writer as cute it was grossly endearing when she was sick. Sick Quinn was rare. Rachel could only coax her out of the bed with the promise of an aromatherapy shower but Quinn would reply raaar raar raaar. The first time it happened Rachel stood in shock. with a smile threatening to take over her entire face. It wasn't until Rachel laid it on the table that she would be in the shower as well that after a few small raaaars, a slow stretch and lazily opened her eyes.

Quinn loved that Rachel only wore sentimental jewelry. She may have enjoyed looking at the jewelry on the Upper East side but she never bought any. An emotional attachment was needed. Its why Rachel understood Quinn's appreciation for antiques.

Rachel loved walking through the streets with her girlfriend. Falls days were the best because anyone with a dog seemed to be out. Each time the usually serious blonde would say to the owners with excitement, "what a cute kid!" More and more the singer was starting to wonder when she'd cave and let the writer take her to a rescue ground to get their own "fur kid".

On a rainy night it was almost guaranteed Quinn would look at her with a bit of wanderlust in her hazel eyes and half plead, half demand "lets go for a walk." It was hard not to love the taller woman when she held the umbrella over them in her left hand with her right arm wrapped around Rachel's shoulders. The brunette found it endearing they would do this only to come home and have Quinn crawl into bed, burrow into her and rationalize through shivers, "I don't have body heat."

She loved that Quinn was a heady individual and had once verbalized her worry her intelligence had plateaued. It was further explained in a flat affect she believed it was all linked to creativity. Considering she was going through a writers block she was edging on depression. It wasn't until Rachel couldn't hide her laughter that it somewhat stunned the over-thinking woman from her circulating thoughts. "I'm not laughing at you babe, you're just...too smart for your own good. I don't want you to doubt that," she said in an unwavering tone and paused to lightly tapped the blonde's temple, "but don't let it go too much to your head," she kissed her cheek in a small reminder to breathe... Rachel kept her grounded. When self-doubt and the internal voice that sounded an awful lot like her father said you're just a pretty face, you're not that smart repeated in her head...Rachel reminded her of reality. Of their reality.

When Rachel came home early after rehearsal had been cut due to a freak accident the apartment wasn't quiet. Usually Quinn sat, wrote, and drank from her favorite mug that said-happiness is a cup of coffee & a really good book. This time the blonde was sitting in her chair and smiling at her computer screen. Rachel could see youtube and a very attractive woman who apparently was an athlete. The brunette clearly her throat in a dramatic fashion, a little peeved she didn't receive her typical greeting of a hug, kiss, or both.

"Hey beautiful. Have a good day?" Quinn said nonchalantly.

"Really Quinn?" The singer replied with a raised eyebrow.

"You should be glad I like smart brunettes with naturally tan skin tones," she replied with a smile as she got up from her desk.

"You sound like Ron Swanson," Rachel said in observation.

"Okay, you can't watch Parks and Rec with me anymore..."Quinn joked, believing they were verbally teasing one another.

"Well then don't make comments that you're simple and like brunette women...and breakfast food!"

"...I didn't say that..." the blonde said with confusion and a furrowed brow.

"It was implied!"

"...talented women who are well spoken and have great legs happen to get to me...but you're calling me simple?" Quinn replied slowly as she crossed her arms over her chest in a very obvious defensive pose. The taller woman looked like she was backed into a corner. Part of Rachel liked to see Quinn squirm, that look of being trapped cutting through her eyes. She wondered if she was slightly sadistic and harbored any resentment to the former cheerleader for their high school years, until she realized she truly didn't and felt guilt for emotionally manipulating her. A mental note was made to make-out with the writer for an hour later as Quinn looked at her unsure where to verbally step. To take away the writer's certainty with words was to take away her foundation. Luckily she noticed Rachel slowly start to smile. Honesty was always the brunette's undoing.

"You're cruel," the blonde said after a relieved sigh.

"Well you've watched MANY interviews with her. Its almost like you're cheating," Rachel countered with a raised eyebrow but with a deadpan tone and watched hazel eyes widen in a mix of disbelief and shock. When Quinn didn't reply or move closer as she expected she admitted, "I'm half kidding. You love me, I love you. You think Christen Press is-"

"A lot like you," Quinn cut her off. "She's cute...smart...ambitious...talented...dedicated...gorgeous sure." Rachel could feel herself growing a little jealous until she realized Quinn was in a round about way complimenting her own character. "But she's not you. I say gorgeous because I don't know her, you're beautiful and I know you."

The singer paused, not expecting jealousy to creep up into her, followed by romantic words and then romantic gestures as she felt soft hands hold her own and raise them to press her lips against her fingers.

"Sorry, I had a rather difficult day. You know I hate when my schedule goes up in the air." Rachel offered sincerely.

"I wouldn't love you if you stopped being your dramatic self," Quinn replied with a wink and a gentle, joking lilt to dissipate any tension.

"To the bedroom?" Rachel asked in a voice that dropped.

"Yes, let me just hop in my batmobile," Quinn replied but almost couldn't get out from her own laughter.

"You're so weird and such a nerd. I can't believe Sam influenced you that much." The brunette said as she tugged her down the hallway.

"You know...maybe Christen Press would like my sense of humor."

"I doubt it." Rachel snarked back but with a smile. "Come here," she said as she pulled Quinn closer and laughed into the blonde's lips.

"What?" Quinn asked while the singer quickly removed her shirt.

"In keeping with your appreciation of a certain soccer player...I'm about to score a goal." Rachel said through her own laughter as she unbuttoned Quinn's pants.

"Oh my god. And you say I'm a nerd."

On days they wore each other out or committed to sleeping in Quinn was amazed how brilliant Rachel could be. In her half-awake state she'd throw out crazy ideas that the blonde believed should be put into a script. The brunette would be drifting in and out and mumble "I am soooo tiiiiiiiired. Why can't we have coffee tasting... instead of wine tasting? It would be just as pretentious and..." she'd almost fall back asleep..."if coffee was a person I'd marry it." Not able to stop herself Quinn laughed and was scolded. "You're getting a one star rating as a human pillow. I don't want to feel like I'm experiencing an earthquake." Rachel continued, becoming a little more conscious.

"Thanks babe. You really know how to make a girl feel special." Quinn countered.

"Mmmm, its too early for sarcasm." The singer groaned.

"It is never too early for sarcasm. Get out while you can cause it might be my best friend and the friendship is here to stay." The writer said gently, wondering if Rachel would fall back to sleep.

"I love you more than coffee, lattes, and cappuccinos..." Rachel mumbled again and pulled Quinn closer in a way that non-verbally and not at all subtle way said you're mine.

"I'm honored," Quinn continued with her sarcasm.

"You should value that," Rachel said playfully and looked up to see a content Quinn who she was half on top on.

"Go back to sleep," the writer whispered but held a demanding undertone.

"Mmhmmm...always full of good ideas Quinn Fabray. Love you for it." Rachel slowly got out as she succumbed to her exhaustion.

When Rachel woke there were four small lattes with different flavors on the counter Rachel had never tried to the writer's knowledge. The brunette eyed them with curiosity.

"Starbucks calls them shorties and for a second I thought they were really fitting since they're for you," Quinn said as she leaned against the chair. She was surprised Rachel only smiled as she took one after moving some of her bed hair to the side, leaving one of her shoulders exposed, and Quinn thinking Rachel looked beautiful every moment of every day.

"If you're not busy we should get married later," Rachel said happily but with a joking tone. It was one of those nice, easy going mornings.

"Okay, I'll pencil you in for four o'clock."

The second time she ordered the four mini cups she had done a little research and practiced calligraphy. She passed on the idea of writing a word on each lid to read will you marry me in nice penmanship. It didn't seem creative enough. Quinn had high expectations. It was her firm belief perfect was impossible, but she wanted the ideal. A list was accumulating and filled her binder with the metal binding that said IDEAS. Her plan was to give the binder that had been empty when Rachel placed the metal strips on to the singer after she said yes. After she thinks of a proposal, THE proposal that would meet her standards and do justice to Rachel and their past...present...and future. It seemed complicated. For now Quinn sat at her desk and thought of what made them keep holding on and simply made them...them. She smiled as she put the pen to the paper.

The End.

Not the greatest ending but I picture it more as Quinn sitting with her notebook looking at a list of ideas and coming up with something ideal in the next second. Thank you for reading. Feel free to look at my twitter at PlaceForAnEcho.