Chapter Two:

Peering at Lost Love

Coffee aroma wafted up the grand winding stairs and through the gap under the door, floating through the air once again and made its way to the sleeping beauty's nose. In her sleep she inhaled and then awoke with a slight groan. Before her eyes had opened, she stretched her arms and legs under her warm duvet and made another groan.

Christmas was always the same in the Fabray household: coffee and breakfast, followed by sat around the tree to pen presents, followed by organised chaos whilst the women make dinner and the men talk about business and sport. This year, however, was going to be different. At first.

Cracking one eye open, Quinn looked towards her alarm clock and saw the time: nine in the morning exactly. Her mother would have been up for about half an hour now and so she thought this would be the perfect opportunity to get ready.

Hearing from her sister, Quinn had an idea of what mornings were like with young children. Where the baby was only young, it was possible she wouldn't see her until later. Still, the itch to at least get a glance - like she had the previous night - was too much to ignore. Jumping in the shower, she washed as quickly as she could and then dressed in something not overly festive, but still something to make known she was aware of what day it was.

Just as she was about to leave the house (gift tucked inside her coat pocket, snug and safe, Quinn was stopped by her mother holding up a mug of steaming coffee and wearing a bright smile.

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart!" She cheered and somehow pulled her youngest into a hug without spilling the hot beverage on her. "Merry Christmas, mom." She greeted back, not quite so cheerfully. "Is dad up?" Pulling back, she asked but not really caring. Their relationship had certainly progressed since she was seventeen (when he came back into her life) but there were still some grudges she just could not let go. Like always, as long as they didn't talk about it, everything was fine.

Judy nodded her head enthusiastically, "Yes he's up and we're waiting for you to come and join us. It was then that she noticed Quinn's clothing. Frowning in that motherly disappointed way, she tutted at her daughter; "Quinnie you can be going out no, your father and I are opening the presents!" In previous years she would have swallowed her protests, taken her boots and coat off and come in. This year was different. Not just this Christmas but this whole year. So as she dropped her hand from her mother's and then shook head.

Ignoring the confused look on her mother's eyes, Quinn squared her shoulders and allowed her hands to reach into her pockets. "I need to go out now or I won't have time." Her mother grew more puzzled as the red scarf was delicately and yet tightly around her neck, heading towards the door once again. Reaching forward (in a dramatic movie style way) Judy called out; "But it's Christmas morning," to which Quinn dryly laughed slightly, "Exactly. Which is why I won't have time." Of course she could have just gone back in the evening, but getting two glimpses of her star in one day? The temptation was too much to handle. Besides, by giving herself two chances it gave her a chance to chicken out. With one, she absolutely had to do it. Again, just as she was about to leave, Judy called out in her shrill voice; "But it's tradition!" And once more Quinn laughed and shrugged her should; "Start the tradition without me." And with that, like snow in the wind, she was gone: leaving her mother, father and tradition behind just for a little while.

Forgetting he car yet again, Quinn took to the quiet snow covered streets and began to walk down the roads she knew far too well. Hands in pockets and head held high, although limbs trembling ever so slightly. Feeling the package within her coat pocket quivering in time with her nervous muscles.

With an infant in the house, Rachel would have thought she would be up for a while longer than she had been, but amazingly her little girl had decided to sleep in. How that would all change once she got older and knew all about Santa Clause, flying reindeer and presents. She had awhile for all that of course, as her young daughter could barely lift her head! Although she was of course convinced her daughter was a genius and a music protégé.

In her old bed - the one she had since she was twelve years old - she sighed happily and snuggled deeper into the arms of her husband. Feeling her body against his, he wrapped his arms around her and mumbled "Happy Holidays" into her hair and planted a soft kiss onto her head. She only had just enough time to whisper her love her own greeting of "Happy Holidays" sealed with a kiss to his lips, before their energetic, vocal four month old daughter made her presence known. They both laughed tiredly before untangling themselves. Rachel - being the mother - got out of their bed and picked up their little snowflake and settled her on the chest.

Their little 'singing' princess was dressed in a light blue onsie, decorated with snowflakes. Her large brown eyes stared up at her mommy and daddy and then, once she focused more fully on the familiar faces, she began to kick her legs and wave her arms, babbling her own "Happy Holidays" message. Both Mommy Rachel and Daddy Brendan laughed and tickled her belly, wishing their baby girl the greeting back.

When the fussing began to get too much, and once Imogen's belly was full of her mother's milk, the three of them made their way down the stairs to wish the Berry men "Happy Holidays" and to open presents before starting on lunch. Their own family tradition was very much the same as everyone else on Christmas morning: hot cinnamon rolls from the oven and tea to be feasted on whilst pyjama clad family members opened and shared presents whilst gathered under the tree.

Through the window, Quinn saw the similar tradition she usually took part in but found herself 'believing' in this a lot more than with her own family. The two older parents were dressed in their matching His and His dressing gowns, sipping tea and beaming at one another. The younger man - the son in law - crouched down in front of his wife and carefully opened a gift. Then, once opening it and revealing the contents, he grinned so widely and took his wife's head in his hand and planted a large kiss on her cheek before repeating the action to his tiny daughter. All of them smiled and laughed and talked as each present was opened but Quinn wasn't really looking at anyone else.

Only Rachel Berry had her attention. The sitar that hadn't aged one bit. Not in her eye or mind. Her smile was still as huge as ever and her eyes were as bright as they always were. Although she was standing quite a distance away, Quinn could still see just how beautiful this young woman was: just turned twenty seven years old and she didn't look a day older than sixteen - as cliché as it sounded. Her beauty radiated off her; she was truly radiant and, although she couldn't hear her now, she knew her voice was just as exquisite.

It was as if the girl had never grown up. She gazed and stared at her with the eyes of a love-struck teenager. Her Rachel had grown up of course, as had she, but both in two different ways. Where Quinn had simply become professional and adult, Rachel had bloomed and blossomed into a star. The star she was always destined to be. The star Quinn always knew she was going to be. Rachel had gone to Julliard and excelled, landing role after role, lead after lead and gained fan after fan. Quinn being her biggest one. She had fulfilled her dreams: succeeded more than even she could have thought. Rachel Berry: legend of Broadway, and only twenty seven years old. When Quinn turns twenty seven in the spring, what will she have achieved? Getting one of the sophomore football players to read a book? Perhaps, but nothing as outstanding as Rachel. Where the brunette thought she had been living in the shadow of the blonde for the first two years of high school, the blonde was now living in the starlet's.

And she was more than more than proud of her.

As much as she loved to stay and watch Rachel dance around her living room to classic Christmas songs, the sight was a little too heart-breaking. Clutched to her chest was the little baby that possibly made more headlines than TomKat and Brangalina's babies put together. Imogen E. Satin-Berry. It was a superstar name and she was surely a superstar baby, purely because of who her mother was. The baby was born early and it was quite a scare. When Quinn had found out she was unsurprisingly scared. The press had printed nothing about a complicated pregnancy, but apparently they ran in Rachel's family. Where (as far as Quinn knew) Rachel hadn't followed the same fate as Shelby, it was still a frightening time.

Through glassy eyes and a glassy pane, Quinn watched as Rachel rocked her precious, darling baby and kissed her fine, dowdy baby hair. She was small and adorable, exactly how Quinn imagined Rachel's daughter to be.

Of course she wasn't just dancing with her daughter. Behind her, wrapping his arms securely around his two girls was Rachel's husband. Tall but not traditionally handsome, but perfect for Rachel. Quinn tried to know as little about him as possible, but whenever Rachel did an interview she of course mentioned him: "Brendan's directing another show...no I'm not in it! ...he's of course very excited about moving away from the city..." All the usual stuff that wives had to say about their adoring husbands.

Yes it wasn't the baby in her arms that bothered Quinn, it was the man who was holding them that made her sniffle, wipe her eye and then walk away. Back to her own family; ready to pretend to be happy, bat away questions and put her plan to one side.