Well, this took longer than I expected. I'm sorry!
Thank you to everyone who's favorited this/added it to their alerts/told me what they think. It really means so much to me! :)
/
"When was the last time you saw her?" The question is soft, kind. Kurt looks at her, eyes wide.
Rachel shuts her eyes, tight. "I – it was a while ago. I haven't seen her in years."
She supposes it's not a complete lie.
She hasn't really seen Quinn, the girl that broke her heart, in a long time. Since high school.
(She's seen the person Quinn became, though.)
/
The first time they saw each other, Quinn's at her show.
Rachel's just come off stage, high on the applause, and even seeing Quinn can't diminish that.
She gives a bright smile, leaning in to hug her, tight. "How are you?"
Quinn smiles, too, but it looks forced. "I'm great, thanks! And so are you, you did – wonderfully." She hands Rachel a bouquet of flowers. "These are for you."
Rachel smiles, soft around the edges. "Thank you so much," and she holds them close to her chest, breathing them in.
Quinn stands there for a moment, looking torn, and then she jerks her head to the side. "Would you like to get some dinner, or something? Catch up?"
Rachel should say no – she has every fucking right to, and she should feel absolutely livid, should kick Quinn out and tell her never to come back.
But – this is the now, and this is Quinn looking broken, looking like she really wants to see Rachel, to talk to her.
She smiles, and nods. "Just let me get everything ready, change, and then sure. I'd love to."
/
Quinn's waiting for her when she returns, and holds out a hand for Rachel to take.
After a moment, she does, holds tight, linking their fingers together.
They eat slowly, and they talk about everything and nothing; Rachel talks of Broadway and scandals, and Quinn of her husband (husband, Rachel thinks, almost in awe) and the job she's managed to secure, as a secretary.
"My parents are happy with it," she says, and gives a shrug as though she doesn't care.
(Rachel can see through it, though. She's always been able to really see Quinn.
She'd say something if she thought it would make a difference.)
They don't talk about their past; they don't talk about Finn, or them, afternoons in cars or nights in front of a fire.
They're – forcedly polite, and when they part, Rachel feels a longing, a sadness sweep over her.
"Goodbye, Quinn," she says, and gives her another hug, breathing her in, holding her presence with her.
She's still in love, still so in love, and watching her drive away hurts more than she thought it would.
But high school was then and this is now, she tells herself, and goes inside.
/
The second time, Quinn plans it.
She finds her way to Rachel's apartment, brings a bottle of wine that she loves and a few movies that she used to.
"Can I come in?" she asks, holding them up, and gives a smile that Rachel can't say no to.
They sit in front of the couch, watching movies. Quinn's too close to Rachel, but they're halfway through a bottle of wine and Rachel can't bring herself to tell her to move.
Husband, she reminds herself, husband, and it almost works.
But then – it feels like high school, too, forbidden and sweet, and when Quinn kisses her Rachel lets out a soft sound, arms reaching up to her shoulders, resting there.
Quinn leans her down and kisses over her, pulling Rachel's shirt off with reverence.
"You're beautiful," she whispers, and now, with the soft sounds of the movie in the background and alcohol blurring her thoughts, Rachel believes it.
She lets herself believe that this can be, that this is something more than it used to be.
She lets herself believe that Quinn won't leave, this time; that she'll stay with her, until Rachel asks her to go.
(Or, at least, that she wants to stay.)
Quinn kisses down her body, slow and sweet, and it's like and unlike that first time; she's more careful, now, but it's so absolutely Quinn Fabray that Rachel can barely breathe.
"Please," she finds herself whispering, too-soft, and tangling her hands in Quinn's hair, just wanting to feel, hold her, hold this moment in her mind, in her breath. "Please."
Quinn does, licks her way inside, and Rachel lets out a long sigh; she's had sex since Quinn, but not like this, not this close, never meant this much.
She comes and it surprises her; she lets out a sharp sound, tightening her grip, and Quinn climbs up her body, kisses her, and it's hazy, full of the post-coital bliss that usually escapes her.
Her fingers travel down Quinn's body, unbuttoning her jeans with a snap, and she presses inside her, still kissing her, moving her lips to her neck, back up to suck at her bottom lip. Quinn lets out little breathy noises that make Rachel want to cry, because – well, this is going to be gone when Quinn leaves.
Don't, she tells herself, trying to stay in the moment – but her bubble's been burst, because husband, husband, husband is repeating over and over in her head, a mantra that sounds suspiciously like you were never good enough.
Quinn shudders when she comes, and Rachel kisses her through it, her grip tightening on Quinn's hips until she's sure there'll be bruises, tomorrow.
For a moment, they just breathe with each other, looking at each other, and then Quinn sits up, runs a hand through her hair.
"That was probably a mistake," she says, but her heart isn't in it.
Rachel swallows, trying not to let the lump in her throat show. "You're probably right."
Quinn snaps her head to the side; it's never been Rachel to agree, it's always been Quinn, insisting that it meant nothing, and Rachel arguing.
She was such a romantic, back then; now, though, now she's nothing more than a realist.
"You are right," she says, because it's what she needs to say, because she's right – because this means nothing to Quinn and without the haze of an orgasm she can't delude herself. "It's just like before."
Quinn bites her lip and Rachel wants to beg her to stay, but she won't. She can't.
This has always been her fight, to tell Quinn what they are.
Not anymore.
She's out of fight, out of the will to yell at her, to beg anymore.
Quinn leaves, and Rachel doesn't say anything.
She's in love, but she isn't stupid.
She might love but Quinn doesn't, and Rachel's not going to force the issue. Not anymore.
