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"Open the damn door," I mutter under my breath.
It's fucking freezing out here at this hour.
I buzz again and hold it down longer this time. She must seriously be a dead sleeper.
"Hello?" the raspy and sleepy voice filters through the speaker box outside of the apartment complex.
It would turn me on if my lower half wasn't numb.
"It's me," I state.
"Rach?"
I bite back any sarcastic comment that I'm dying to throw back at her and remind myself that it's not her fault it's cold out right now. She doesn't control the weather and she's made that very clear in the past.
"Yes."
"What are you doing here? It's like 3 in the morning."
Oh really? I wasn't aware.
"Open the damn door."
I hear a distinct noise and run to the door before the noise goes away.
I shuffle everything into the elevator and hit the button.
I couldn't sleep.
My date with Quinn went well and I think I was on that weird metaphoric cloud nine that everyone talks about being on sometimes. And then I started thinking of some of the things that we talked about at dinner.
Quinn needed a distraction.
Lauren was less than thrilled when I called her at eleven and told her that she had to go to a 24 hour pharmacy to get me some supplies.
She showed up an hour later with two pints of ice cream and half of the craft section from Dwayne Reed.
She refused to leave once I told her what I was doing. She wanted to see Rachel Berry in her high school element and I think I gave her quite a show. The three white boards were set up on top of the bed so that Lauren could easily write everything I told her as I transferred the good ideas to the colorful poster boards.
The glitter added a nice touch.
Quinn opens her door almost immediately. She looks adorable and I almost feel bad that I woke her up at such an hour.
Almost.
"So you did steal my NYU sweatshirt?"
She looks down and attempts to cover it as if I'll forget about it if I don't see it. I'll admit, I use the same tactic but she can't pull a fast one on me. I've been onto her thievery since the morning I got back from Ohio and couldn't find my favorite navy blue sweatshirt amongst the suitcase of clothes.
She shakes her head, "What are you doing here?"
So she's trying to change the subject, huh?
I breeze by her and place a quick kiss on her lips, "I missed you."
She closes the door behind me, "I missed you too, is that the reason you're here?"
"Yes and no," I call over my shoulder as I walk down her hallway. Normally I take the time to appreciate the black and white vintage photos she has lining her walls but I'm in presentation mode and I mustn't lose focus.
She follows me into her bedroom and I turn a few more lights on. I throw my coat and scarf on the trunk at the end of her bed.
"Are you feeling okay?"
I point to the bed and she takes the hint and sits. She sits Indian style and I notice that she's wearing her signature grey shorts with the sweatshirt. It's like Ohio all over again.
"I was lying in bed and I started to come up with things that you could do with your life now that you're no longer prying into people's minds and then I thought of a lot so I needed to put them somewhere. And then I needed you to see them. And then I needed to see you, too. So here I am."
She smiles and gestures for me to show her what I've prepared. I must admit that I'm kind of surprised that she's not making fun of me for doing this. She's happy that I'm at her place at three in the morning for my employment pitch which almost makes me wonder if she's been waiting for this type of invested interest from me since high school. Surely she heard about my intervention with Finn the summer he decided he didn't want to work. I changed that real quick. Back then I only cared because I was afraid that college recruiters would find out that my boyfriend was lazy and it would have a negative impact on their decision to accept me but now I'm doing it because I want my girlfriend to be happy.
I pull the poster boards out from the bag and hold up the first one.
She squints her eyes before reaching over to her nightstand table for her brown framed glasses.
There are so many versions of Quinn and I don't know which my favorite is. Studious Quinn definitely is top five though.
"Oh. My. God."
I don't know if her reaction is good or bad because my mind went elsewhere so I begin my presentation.
"As you can see, I took the liberty of doing some research."
"Some research? You could have written a book."
Witty Quinn is also top five.
"Yes well, if you'll recall, I used to be very thorough."
I wonder if she remembers my presentation on the correlation between singing and an increased life span senior year of high school.
"You didn't make Lauren do all of this, did you?"
I stomp my foot, why didn't I make her do the writing? Maybe I wouldn't have a hand cramp still. I hope it doesn't affect my future activities.
Who am I kidding? I'm ambidextrous when it comes to pleasing Quinn.
"Nope. A Rachel Berry original." I beam.
I was quite proud of the fact that I still had it.
"This is what you've been doing all night?"
I nod and show her another poster board, "Do you like my flowchart?"
She studies it, "The glitter does make it pop a bit."
I said the same thing.
"So let me get this straight," she starts.
I bite my tongue at any straight or gay joke I could make and wait for her to wrap her head around it.
"You made a bunch of poster boards of career options for me?"
"Indeed."
"Pros and cons, flowcharts, graphs?"
I drop the next poster board, "And anticipated timelines."
"Okay one, I'm not training for the marathon. Two, I'm not going to be a cheerleading coach for a public school in the city. Three, I'm not getting my teaching degree in Psychology. Oh my god, Rachel! I am not getting pregnant again!"
"Yet?"
I don't know what made me ask that but now I need to know. It's quite bold.
"Yet," she sighs, "Sweetheart, come here." She pats the bed.
"You didn't even read my footnotes," I complain as I drop the boards on the floor and walk towards her on the bed.
"I'll read them later, I promise. Rachel, I appreciate all of this but it wasn't really necessary."
"But you need a distraction. I don't want you to be sad anymore."
"Is that what you think?"
"Well I did until you responded like that."
She smiles and brushes a few of my bangs out of my eyes, "I'm not sad at all. I'm the opposite of sad."
She sounds pretty convincing and I want to believe her but she could just be a really good actress.
"It's my fault that you don't have a job and I just thought I'd help you get a new one."
"How many times have we been over this? This isn't your fault."
It's so my fault but she's right, we've been over this about a thousand times. It's pointless to argue with her on this detail because she'll never budge. Instead, I'll pout and continue to sound innocent and childish as I try to convince her to let me help.
"Let me make this right."
"There's nothing to make right."
"You could go back to school, I mean you're already brilliant so it wouldn't take you long to get another masters in something. Like in advertising or PR, there are millions of agencies in the city. Oh my god, you could be my Publicist!"
Sometimes I shock myself with how amazing I can be. Like, I'm seriously dripping with awesome ideas.
"Rach, no."
"Why! I'll be throwing mine off of the Crystler building soon so I'll need a new one. Please, please Quinn, please."
"Don't even puppy dog me," she averts her eyes and moves her head when I try to make eye contact again, "I love you but I'm not becoming your publicist."
"If you loved me then you would become my publicist."
"Oh don't even pull that card."
"But it would be perfect, you'd be such a good publicist! And we'd be together all the time, and—"
"And you'd get sick of me. And you'd be going from sleeping with your therapist to sleeping with your publicist. I don't think that's smart thinking."
She needs to leave the smart thinking to me.
"But as my publicist you could issue press releases that deny all rumors and allegations! It would be perfect! C'mon!"
"No Rach, just no. Psychology found its way to me and I'm positive that something else will find me."
She wants to reject my idea? I'm going to be stubborn about it.
"You're going to run out of money."
"Look at me, I'm twenty seven and I had my own office. I don't think you need to worry about me running out of money, I made quite a lucrative practice for myself."
Naturally.
I'd be a fool to think that Quinn Fabray wouldn't get exactly what she wanted out of life.
"You're probably still paying off student loans."
"My parents already paid them."
I've never hated Russell Fabray more than I do now.
"Your apartment."
She pulls my arm until I'm sitting on her lap, I drape my arms over the back of her shoulders.
"Isn't as much compared to what I made. Besides, I've had a single person's mentality for quite a while and I don't survive on much. I'll be fine."
"Well now you have an expensive girlfriend."
Not that I would ever make her buy me things.
"I can handle it, Rach. My father is an investment banker and my mom is an accountant. I know how to take care of money. Half of it is already invested or in CDs."
Her hand has made its way under my long sleeved shirt and she's writing random letters across my lower back. They might not be random but I'm still too deep in thought to string them together. There must be some non-arguable point that I can make to convince her to be my publicist. This is turning into being about me. I got the thought in my head and now it won't go away.
She nudges my chin with her nose and I give her a kiss before resting my forehead on hers.
"Are you sure you don't want to be my publicist?"
She laughs softly and I feel it more than I hear it, "I'm sure."
I pout, only because now I'm back to the drawing board on the whole operation eliminate publicist thing.
She lifts me off of her and takes off her eyeglasses. I take this as my cue.
"Okay, so I guess since you vetoed my ideas, I'll be going."
Her confused face smoothes out as she points a white remote in the air. The room envelops us in darkness.
"You're not leaving."
Quinn's arms circle around my waist tightly and she pulls me back until I'm lying next to her.
"Are you sure? I mean we just had our first date."
She laughs into my neck before punctuating it with a kiss, I hope she can't feel how fast my pulse is going. It's almost embarrassing.
"I want to wake up next to you."
Somewhere in the world someone is trying to telepathically communicate to me that this is a bad idea. I wonder if Lauren knows. I'm sure she does. I wouldn't be surprised if she had Quinn's apartment under surveillance, too.
"If we wake up next to each other don't you think we're going to want to do that every morning?"
It took me at least a week of moping around to get over what it felt like to not have Quinn next to me after we got home from Ohio.
"That's a possibility."
"Are you ready for that?"
"I'll sleep on the couch then. I just don't want you out in the city by yourself at this hour," she offers and I panic.
I tighten my grip around her hip.
"Stay."
"I know we haven't slept together yet. I mean, actually just slept next to each other, but if it's too fast then I don't want you uncomfortable."
As if. The only reason I never slept with my faceless conquests was because they weren't what I wanted. Quinn, on the other hand, is everything that I want.
"I'm not uncomfortable, I've wanted you to stay over every night for the past two months. You're the one that gives me an excuse."
If I didn't know any better I'd think she didn't like me very much.
"Well that's because I didn't want to scare you. Waking up next to someone is a big step in a relationship and I didn't want to pressure you. Sometimes it's a bigger step that actually having sex, which is our situation—"
I shake my head, she has the ability to talk in circles for hours, "You're being a therapist, I need you to tell me you want me. Demand something of me."
"You know I want you. All the time."
She latches her lips to mine and I'm momentarily caught off guard due to the darkness but I feel her everywhere. She's surrounding me in every way possible, I grip her neck and hold her in place. She hisses against my mouth when she tries to pull away and I don't let her. She breaks free and the look on her face is pure need. She lifts the navy blue sweatshirt over her head in a way I can appreciate and rolls her bare upper body back into me, snagging my lips on her path. Her fingers roughly slide under my shirt and her nails drag across my abdomen before I feel her circle around my back. I'm arched off the bed and pulled into her, she sucks violently at my neck, I can feel the hickey forming as I let out a small cry into the thick air. My nails dig into the back of her shoulders in an attempt to bring her closer to me. I need her closer to me. She pushes me back while still keeping a firm hold on me and I feel a breeze hit my body. She tosses my shirt behind her as if it has no purpose being in the world and brings her lips to my clavicle and places open mouthed and sloppy kisses across my skin.
"Tell me you want me," I whisper harshly against her cheek as she lays me back down.
"Words are words. Don't you want to feel it?"
She continues to assault my chest as her palm moves down the side of my body, she drags my yoga pants down as both her body and lips simultaneously move lower. My body thrashes off the bed just in an attempt to feel her, her palms press down on my stomach and it creates an electric stir of emotions that rocket through my body and escape through my mouth as a moan.
I'm growing impatient as she fumbles at the end of the bed, she takes her time working back up my body, placing small kisses on my calves as she travels toward the one place I need her the most.
Her hand covers mine and I feel it drag down my body. My eyes slam shut and my lips part to allow better breathing access, I could pass out from the anticipation of her touch.
I'm dizzy as I feel my fingers engulfed in wetness, and I nearly come when I realize that it's not mine. She's entered me into her.
"Oh God."
My eyes are still closed as I try to imagine what she looks like hovering above me, it's entirely pitch black except for the light from the hallway that's filtering under the closed door.
"This is what you do to me."
It's hoarse and thick and doing wonders to my body. She's not even touching me intimately and I'm ready to come undone.
My fingers are coated in desire and I'm having trouble swallowing the fact that I am the cause of it. She doesn't let me appreciate her like the way I want to right now and I feel her moving my hand once again. It's not until I feel my fingers hesitantly move against my own lips that I realize what she's doing. My tongue peeks out from behind my lips and hits the wall of my fingers, I moan as I'm met with her taste. It's addictive and I don't wait for her urging to take both fingers into my mouth, not being able to help myself when presented with the opportunity to savor her.
I finally open my eyes and I'm speechless as I see her eyes watching me with hooded lids, licking her own lips as if she's mimicking me involuntarily. I throw my now clean hand around her back and force her down into me, she moans loudly as her tongue runs into mine. She's absolutely turned on when she tastes herself on me and the wetness I feel covering my bare thigh is all the proof I need that she's ready.
She stills my hand once she realizes its destination.
"Not tonight," She whispers before bringing my hand up and kissing my palm.
She throws my arm over her shoulder and I grasp at her skin with white knuckles as I feel her own hand traveling down.
"Let me worship you."
I bite my lip hard in order to save myself from losing all control, "I need to touch you."
She runs the tip of her nose across my collar bone and nuzzles into my neck for a few seconds, "Tomorrow morning, after I make you breakfast." She says against my once again parted lips.
A strangled moan erupts from my throat as I hear her words and feel her fingers finally enter me at the same time.
"Oh my— fuck," I shiver beneath her, "Your fingers are freezing."
"Warm them up for me?"
I'll never understand how she can be so calm about things.
Even in high school, she took everything that was thrown at her in stride, with the utmost elegance and grace. She had her moments, we all did, but she's eerily serene almost all the time now and I still don't understand it.
Like, now for instance. How can she just continue humming some song under her breath while she stirs the pasta sauce as if this night is just like any other night?
I'm basically on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I've been staring at the clock for so long that when I look away I still see the clock face everywhere, as if it's permanently etched into my mind.
Thank god I don't bite my nails when I'm nervous, my nail lady would gasp in horror at the damage I could easily do to them.
"He'll show," she says, not taking her eyes off the stove.
She's actually wearing the apron that I requested she wear. She pretty much made the entire meal, too. I've just been leaning up against the counter next to her switching between watching her and watching the clock.
I keep going back and forth on whether or not I want Jesse to show up. On one hand, I want him to come so that he will give Quinn a chance. On the other hand, I don't want him to come because I don't feel like getting another headache from his petty whining.
Lauren enjoyed the white boards that we purchased last week and she's been keeping track of my pro/con list. I decided to keep the invitation extended to him even though the con list was much longer than the pro list. It's only because Quinn thinks that this is a good idea.
Damn her and her persuasion.
Quinn knows that now I'm nervous he's not going to show because he doesn't approve of us. It's what I was afraid of all along.
She puts down the wooden spoon, wipes her hands on the front of the apron, and turns to look at me. Her hands give me a quick massage.
"Are we allowed to be ourselves?" I ask.
"That's up to you."
I nod and she kisses my forehead. There's a strong knock on the door and I know it's him. Few people have full permission to come right up without having to stop at the security desk. Jesse, Lauren, and now Quinn.
Quinn whispers good luck into my ear and urges me towards the door. I inhale deeply and on my exhale I pull the door open before I chicken out.
His generic smirk is in place as I gesture for him to come inside. He gives me a kiss as he hands me a bottle of wine.
"I've missed you," he says as I close the door behind him.
I haven't spoken to him since leaving the restaurant after he upset me.
He looks so innocent and childlike that it's hard to remember what I was even mad at him for. I wrap my arms around him and pull him into another hug, "I missed you too, Jess."
I squeal as he lifts me off the ground and spins me around briefly, "I'm sorry I acted like a jackass."
He sets me down, "Start over tonight?"
He nods and takes his coat and scarf off. I take it from him and walk into the kitchen where Quinn is stirring the pasta in the boiling water.
We started with the basics tonight.
I place the bottle of wine next to her and give her a kiss on the cheek. She ducks her head but she has a smile on her face. When I get back from throwing his coat on my bed, Jesse is opening the bottle of wine and Quinn is supplying him with wine glasses.
So far, so good.
"Dinner is almost done," Quinn tells us as she gestures towards the living room.
"New couch, Rach? I like it." He sits in the middle of it and sets his wine glass on the coffee table.
Quinn and I share a secret smile as I sit in the matching armchair I picked out in order to give the living room some better symmetry. She takes a seat on the armrest of my chair and rests her arm over the back. I lean back into her for some extra reassurance and I feel her fingers start to lightly massage the back of my neck.
I nod and he reaches forward to take another sip of wine as all three of us struggle to come up with a topic for conversation. It shouldn't be this awkward.
"So Quinn, how is the therapy world?"
I know this is his way of avoiding a straight apology to her but at least he's engaging her in the conversation so I'll have to settle.
"Actually Jess," I glance up at Quinn to find her looking down at me, "Quinn has decided to change her career path."
"Oh?" I knew this would peak his interest. He's so damn predictable. "What is it that you're doing now?" he directs towards her.
"Well, I haven't really decided yet."
"Surely you have some kind of plan?"
I stifle my laugh as Quinn shakes her head in amusement. I wonder if she also feels like she's being interviewed by an over protective father before a first date.
"I see."
"What?" I ask.
I know he's dying to make choice comments about how he can't believe I'm not having anxiety attacks about being with someone that doesn't have a plan and at least three back up plans but he instead opts to take another sip of his wine. Besides, I already had my slight anxiety attack about Quinn's career options and it was rather unnecessary. Maybe I've had a plan for so long that it's okay if I'm with someone that makes me want to go off course a bit.
"Nothing," He replies and we fall into another silence.
Quinn squeezes my neck as the timer beeps on the stove and gets up off the arm of the chair to drain the pasta.
"You're being weird," I whisper to him once Quinn is out of earshot.
"You're the one being weird!" he hushes out, "She's unemployed!"
He makes it seem like she's been homeless for her entire life.
"Because she couldn't consciously continue as a therapist!"
Okay so maybe those were Quinn's words but he doesn't need to know that.
"Well that's what she gets for sleeping with a patient."
"Don't you call me one of the crazies!"
"You're acting like one!" he whispers hastily.
"Dinner's ready," Quinn calls from the other room.
I point a finger at him, "Not another word about her job, do you hear me?"
He rolls his eyes and stands up with his wine, "Fine."
"You're such a baby," I narrow my eyes at the back of his head as we approach the table.
I sit next to Quinn and Jesse sits across from us. I'm still shooting daggers at him as he unfolds his napkin and tucks it into the collar of his shirt. If only looks could kill.
"It smells really good, Quinn. Perhaps a career in culinary arts?"
I kick Jesse's shin under the table with the point of my heel and he grunts. Quinn stifles her laugh next to me as I place the napkin on my lap and smooth it out nicely. I flash him a wide smile as he finishes spooning the pasta on his plate. Quinn receives the bowl and starts to pile the pasta on my plate until I feel that it's an appropriate amount and then she gives herself some. She notices that I left my wine glass on one of the tables in the other room at about the same time I realize it and she's up before I can tell her to sit.
"Thank you," I reward her by leaning over and giving her a small kiss on her cheek as she sits back down.
"Wow, Fabray this is good," He says with a mouth full of food. Repulsing.
I honestly can't tell if he's being sarcastic or not. I mean, it's just pasta and marinara, what's so good about that?
"Holy shit," I suck in some cool air after I swallow, I misjudged the hotness, "This is amazing."
Okay, so I was wrong. Whatever she did with that sauce, I could kiss my fingertips.
"It's probably the only useful thing I learned from my mother in the kitchen," She comments before taking a bite as well.
I'm literally orgasming in my mouth with each bite, this woman is incredible. I moan in and out of the bedroom because of her.
Jesse's going for thirds and tries to babble out a lame excuse about not having eaten all day. I know he just doesn't want to admit that Quinn's cooking is that good because I know for a fact that he eats at least four meals a day or he's crankier than a toddler that's teething. I, on the other hand, haven't eaten all day out of nerves and I was still able to reduce myself to a helping and a half. I need to save room for dessert. Both desserts, if you will.
Conversation surprisingly isn't forced or uncomfortable for the first time that the three of us are together, at least when there isn't food in one of our mouths. I'm pretty sure it's because the marinara sauce is magical.
I turn to the sound of Quinn's laughter to my right and she laughs harder. I have absolutely no idea what is so funny but I'm seconds away from a hissy fit until I find out.
Quinn simply reaches over and her thumb brushes the corner of my mouth before she shows me the small bit of marinara sauce that I guess made its way there sometime during dinner. She licks her thumb and turns back to answer the question that Jesse just asked her.
I enjoy the nights that I get to have dinner with Quinn. She tends to take care of me and it's not the hell I used to imagine. In fact, it's kind of like where I imagined myself at this age in high school. Established career, stylish decorated apartment, amazing wardrobe, reliable staff at my beck and call, and a significant other that I was entirely smitten with. So it's a girl instead of a boy, who am I to be nitpicky? Well, I guess I also never imagined Jesse in those scenarios after we broke up, but I'm kind of glad that he's here. Especially when I hear both him and Quinn sharing a laugh.
Wait, what?
I zone back into the conversation as Quinn tells him about the time she got off at the wrong Penn Station when she was coming back from Noah's apartment in Jersey and ended up in Newark. Jesse hasn't laughed like that in a while and I'd be jealous if it wasn't Quinn that was making him laugh. I count my blessings and consider it another small victory. This night had such potential to either end in tears or at the police station.
Quinn reaches forward and takes another sip of wine while Jesse tells her about the time he cursed off Joan Rivers, nearly choking as she finds something he says funny. She pats her chest, puts her arm back around my shoulders, and leans back in her chair. I lean into her a bit as I listen to the story for the twentieth time, not to mention that I was there when this all happened. And I don't point out any of Jesse's embellishments or exaggerations because his eyes are sparkling with excitement as he retells his tale. It may just be because Quinn seems to be the most intrigued by his stories but I think she's a really good actress when she needs to be.
Jesse's story has finished and he's smiling at me with that older brother smile that sometimes creeps me out.
"What?"
He shakes his head and reaches for more wine, he's already redfaced and giggly as he smiles away. It could just be my eyes playing tricks on me but I'm pretty sure his grin gets bigger as Quinn leans down and presses a kiss to my temple.
"Rach, Grammys are next month, you haven't even told me who you're wearing."
Instant panic sets in, how could I have overlooked that minor detail? The Grammys are my Oscars, and I'm even presenting, how could I have neglected to find a dress?
"Oh my god," I sit up straight, "I haven't even looked."
Quinn laughs next to me, "You're wearing something of Kurt's remember?"
I feel instantly lighter as I realize that she's 100% right. She's so smart.
"Oh thank god, I completely forgot."
"That reminds me, Lauren said that Kurt called and he asked you to stop by the store to try on some of the options."
"Wonderful," I turn to Jesse with another sigh, "I'm wearing Kurt Hummel."
"Bold move," he takes another sip of wine, "Well I'm sure it will be good for his business."
I nod as well and Quinn continues to massage the back of my neck when I lean back in the chair.
"Speaking of the Grammys, since I can see how disgustingly cute you guys are with each other, I was thinking that you could take my spot as Rachel's date, Quinn."
I know that he came over here earlier still thinking that this was one big practical joke on him. At least he's finally understanding that I'm not messing around.
"Is that allowed?" Quinn asks hesitantly.
"Sure it is, I'm nominated, I can do whatever I want."
So conceited. He rarely passes up an opportunity to rub it in my face that he's nominated. He treats everything as a friendly competition sans the friendly part.
"He has his own invite and a plus one but we tend to be each other's dates. It's good press."
"We're a pretty big deal in the music world, Quinn. People love our friendship and they're convinced we're dating. Did you know that there are dozens of forums and blogs devoted to us? It's pretty wild."
I cut in when I feel Quinn's massaging halt, "The point? I'd advise you to make it."
Whether he really has a point or he just wants to up the pressure for Quinn, I'm not sure. I don't like that he's trying to make her place in my life less significant.
"No point. Just wanted her to know."
Naturally.
"That's really nice, Jesse," Quinn forces out as politely as possible.
I wonder what temperature her body needs to be before her blood starts boiling. I wonder if she's close.
"Rach, you've known me for years. I'm only making it hard because it's who I am. Please just take Quinn in my place."
I sigh, "You're really okay with this?" I ask just to make sure.
Sometimes he says things but doesn't mean them.
"Of course, it may just be the wine talking but I think it's a good idea."
I think it's the wine talking but I know what this is, this is his way of telling us that he gives his approval.
"I don't know what to say."
"You're acting like I just proposed, calm down. Just take your girlfriend to the Grammys," He replies.
"Do you want to go?" I look up towards Quinn.
She looks back and forth between the two of us with hesitant eyes and bites her lip before smiling.
"Of course," She answers softly, I lean up and give her a kiss.
Jesse clears his throat and I pull away shyly before shooting him a glare.
"Excuse me," I announce and pull away from the table, "There are some matters that I need to tend to."
Quinn corrects her posture, "Are you okay?"
I smooth down my shirt, "Oh yeah," I wave off, "I just need to call Daddy and let him know that you're my date."
I crack a smile as Quinn's eyebrow raises, I just straight up ignore Jesse's eye roll.
"So is it safe to assume that this is something you've discussed with him?"
I should feel guilty but I'm not, "He's been hounding me for a while to take you as my date but I didn't want to offend Jesse," I sneer at him for good measure, "or pressure you," I finish sweetly, "so if you'll excuse me, I have some phone calls to make."
"Some?" I hear Jesse ask but I ignore him and trot further down the hall and into my bedroom. I should be concerned about leaving the two of them alone but they've behaved themselves quite nicely tonight.
Daddy is simply thrilled as I tell him the news and I'm sure both Jesse and Quinn can hear my squeal as we talk about it. It's so nice and I'm feeling a bit nostalgic to be giddily talking with my father like I'm a teenager again. I can't believe that I went so long without him in my life like this after my other father passed away. It almost feels like I'm talking about prom. I disregard Lauren's exasperated tone as I tell her, she's been on the receiving end of my indecision for a few weeks. How soon is too soon? Quinn and I are ready for this, right? Right. Regardless, I'm excited enough to do cartwheels so I'm not about to ruin my mood by wondering.
I sit at the edge of my bed with my phone in hand, just relishing in the calm before the storm. My only hesitation about bringing Quinn is the unavoidable press we'll receive. She's been a champ throughout everything we've been through together, I'm just afraid that I'm going to scare her off once she sees Rachel Berry in her prime element. I've been relatively under the radar since seeing her again, it's only going to get crazier when I start doing my job again.
I throw my phone behind me and it lands on the plush comforter as I stand and tousle my hair in the mirror. I quietly walk down the hall. I've never been one to spy but, okay who am I kidding, I'm totally one to spy.
"I still don't like you Fabray," Jesse's voice cuts through the apartment softly.
He knows as well as anyone that I'm never one to pass up a chance to eavesdrop when people are talking about me. I'm a masochist when I really shouldn't be. People love to talk about me but I just can't pass up the opportunity to hear two of the people I care about most talking about me in private.
She chuckles humorlessly, "And honestly, you're not my favorite person, either."
"So we have a mutual understanding?"
"Rachel is my number one priority," Quinn replies.
My heart swells at the mention of my name coming from her lips as she speaks to someone else. I know she hasn't told any of her friends about us, the only people that know are my assistant, my driver, and Jesse.
"And as you know, she has no siblings."
"Really?"
Nice one.
"Sarcasm aside, she has no one to look out for her besides myself, I think you know what I'm getting at?"
"You can save your threats, St. James. You'll never have to follow through with them."
"You sound awfully confident."
"That's because I am."
Of course she is! She's Quinn Fabray. You tell 'em.
"She's fragile, just don't hurt her again."
I should be offended that he treats me like a porcelain doll but it's kind of endearing I guess.
"The same goes for you," Quinn replies.
"So we both agree, we'll remain civil? We'll forget the past?"
"You're the one that has trouble letting go of the past."
I really do love this woman. Even if I've only told her once, there's no doubt in my mind that she's it for me.
"Right well, I'm working on it. You have everyone eating out of the palm of your hand but just remember that I'm not as easily fooled. And so help me, if I find out you have other intentions, I'll come after you with everything I have, do you hear me?"
"Oh I hear you, now it's your turn to listen to me. Rachel means the world to me. My only intention is to be who she needs me to be, and I have no problem spending the rest of my life with her. I don't scare easily and over my dead body will I let harm come to her. I may be different now but I have no problem kicking your pretty little face in if you upset Rachel in any way. Rachel's been dying for me to show my old self and I'm praying for you to give me a reason, St. James."
I take it back, loving her doesn't seem enough anymore.
"You know what? I think we actually might get along just fine, Fabray. But I still hate you."
"Likewise."
"But we can both agree to protect Rach?"
"Of course."
"Then welcome to our dysfunctional family."
I choose this moment to announce myself back into the room, and they both don't seem too startled to see me but they don't exactly look entirely comfortable either.
"Sorry about that, what were you guys talking about?" I ask as I take my seat next to Quinn who immediately welcomes me with a kiss.
"Nothing too important, just some business," Jesse answers before raising his glass, "A toast to the two of you?"
I look at him weirdly but don't let off that I heard their entire conversation. I lift my glass and clink it to the other two before taking a long and healthy sip.
It's an hour before Jesse exaggerates his yawn and announces that it's time for him to leave. To be honest, I'm kind of happy. I enjoyed his company but I can't wait to get onto that couch with Quinn.
"That wasn't the train wreck I imagined," I say after we've finished cleaning off the table and loading the dishwasher, "Did Jesse behave himself while I was in the other room?" I ask, hopefully coyly.
Quinn wipes her hands on the dishtowel and smirks, "I know that you were listening."
I drop my jaw open in faux shock, "I don't have the faintest idea of what you're talking about!"
She laughs and takes the few steps towards me before she wraps her arms around me, "You're a beautiful liar, you know that?"
"Well what do you expect?"
"Nothing less."
"So you're not mad at me for eavesdropping?"
She laughs, "Why would I be mad? You should be mad at me for threatening him."
"Are you kidding me? That was so hot! I love when the fire and passion comes out," I lean up and give her a lingering kiss on the corner of her mouth as her fingers slip under the back of my shirt, "And for the record, he was being an ass again so you had every right."
She pulls away and leads me over to the living room. She sits down first and pulls me sloppily on top of her so that I curl into her side. Her arms circle around me protectively and she places a few kisses on the top of my head before her fingers start mindlessly playing through my hair.
"You're worried about the Grammys, aren't you?"
"A little."
"You don't have to come if you don't want to," I offer as I begin playing with her cross necklace to keep myself occupied.
"Of course I want to be there, I'm just worried about the press you'll get."
"Well you can stay back with Lauren on the carpet if you don't want to stand with me during interviews, and I'm not nominated this year so it's not like they'll see me jump into your arms if I were to win, you know?"
"I meant to ask, why aren't you nominated?"
"My new album doesn't come out until the summer."
"But you're performing and presenting?"
"I'm presenting Album of the Year and performing the first single off the album. So there's a faint chance that they'll pan to you during my performance but they'll be too worried about the nominees to find you when I present."
"You've given this some thought, huh?"
"Lauren and I worked out the details last week."
"What will I wear?"
"I'm sure Kurt will be thrilled to make you a dress."
"Are you serious?"
"Shouldn't you be happy?"
"Under normal circumstances I would be, but I've been guilted into taking care of Crystal's bridal party and your dress for the Grammys needs to be absolutely perfect, and Antonio and I have parted ways and my backer has pulled out. I'm on the verge of a very serious episode that would make a Desperate Housewife with a midlife crisis scared of me. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"
I'd take his nervous breakdown more seriously if he didn't always speak like this. In high school, he could make studying for a test a life or death situation. So no, I don't really grasp what he's saying to me.
Quinn seems to have zeroed in on something that I really didn't catch in his high pitched rant, "Crystal's bridal party? Crystal as in—"
"Crystal as in Puck's trashy girlfriend, excuse me, Fiancée. No, wait for it…wife."
"Wife?" we both exclaim at the same time.
I'm surely dreaming.
Though, it does sound like Puckerman to do something stupid like that. He never was bright.
"Oh yeah, haven't you heard?" Clearly not Kurt. "Him and Crys eloped to Atlantic City and got married."
"Did you know about this?" I turn to Quinn who also looks just as shocked.
She runs her palm over her forehead as she thinks, "He called me last week but I didn't think it was anything important."
"Yes well, Puck happened to tell his beautiful new wife that I would provide my services free of charge for a late May wedding."
Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't they already married?
"If they've already gotten married, why do they need you?"
Thank you for reading my mind and voicing my thoughts for me, Quinn.
"His mom nearly fainted when he told her, and apparently Crystal's parents will only give them a honeymoon if they have a traditional wedding."
"They're getting married again?"
"I hear Lima's nice that time of year."
Well fuck me.
"You've got to be kidding me."
"Wish I was Darling but it's true and it's going to send me to an early grave. Turn around," Kurt commands with pins in his mouth.
I allow Kurt to work his magic as Quinn explains to Lauren who Noah Puckerman is and why it's so like him to completely pull something like this.
Once he's finished, he turns around to glance at Quinn, "I might have a few already in your size that wouldn't need too much altering, it just wouldn't be custom made for you, is that a problem?"
I knew Kurt would come through. Pass up the chance to have two of his dresses on the red carpet at the Grammys? Never.
"Not at all."
"Right. Stay here, I'll go throw some options together."
I study myself in the mirror, it's only the 3rd dress that I've tried on but I'm kind of in love with it. Champagne isn't normally my go-to color but it sparkles and who doesn't love when things sparkle? I give Quinn a spin and she smiles.
"What do you think?"
"It looks great on you, Miss Berry," My stylist speaks up, "We can do a bold smoky palate for your eyes and the hair possibilities are endless with this dress."
Well her input wasn't really the one I wanted but it's been noted. Doesn't she know that Quinn is the only person I care about?
"Quinn?"
She bites her lip and nods her head, "Definitely the one."
"Oh good, because I'm in love with it," I breathe out before turning to face the mirror.
"Are you going to shorten it at all?" Lauren asks.
"I don't know, what do you guys think?"
"I know you haven't worn floor length in a while but this works with your height, and your outfit for the performance is exposing so it's a good contrast."
"I agree," Lauren speaks up.
"Settled," I smile into the mirror before connecting eyes with Quinn in her chair behind me, "Will you guys excuse me and Quinn for a moment?"
Both Lauren and my stylist wander into the main area of the boutique. Quinn keeps her eyes on me for a few seconds before she stands and slowly approaches me from behind. I feel her cool hands run from the top of my bare shoulders down to my forearms and I lean back into her. She places a small kiss on my open neck and looks at me in the mirror.
"You look incredible," she breathes out.
"You're just saying that."
"Well I need to tell you now because I have a feeling that I'll be speechless on the actual night."
I turn around in her arms and pull her closer to me by her neck, her forehead rests on mine. Her eyes are full of mirth and the corners of her lips are beginning to form a smile. She moves a few inches closer and my lips connect with hers. It's the first time we're kissing in public and it feels amazing, it's scary and exhilarating, like anyone could walk in at any moment.
"I knew it," Kurt announces as he glides into the room with a small rack full of dresses.
We jump apart at the intrusion and I find myself wiping my lips, as if it wouldn't make me look ten times guiltier.
"We can explain," I begin.
"Not necessary, you can tell me all about it over dinner one night after I'm done with everything on my plate," he halts and spins around to survey the both of us, Quinn's yet to move away and it feels almost better than the kiss itself, "That the dress?" he asks.
"This is the one," Quinn says.
"Good, I was hoping you'd pick that one, and because I have such the keen eye, I have the perfect dress for you Quinn. It will compliment her nicely."
I smile up at Quinn as Kurt sifts through the few dresses and produces the one he's referring to. I can already tell by the dark blue color that we're going to look smokin' together on the carpet.
Not that we don't already look smokin' as it is.
"For the record, I've been waiting for this day since senior year of high school."
I study my backside in the mirror some more, "What? Having a celebrity wear one of your dresses? I do look damn good, right Quinn?"
"Beautiful."
Kurt hums, "I was talking about you and Quinn. Seeing you two together, finally seeing Quinn happy."