A/N: Interest in this has tapered off as of late, so please let me know if you want to see anything or just why you don't like it. My sixth sense isn't nearly as strong as Rachel's, actually it is pretty much nonexistent, so I'm gonna need a little help. This is the rest of the date...I wrote it pretty late last night, so I'm crossing my fingers that it makes sense.
Part 7
When the cab pulled up alongside the curb, Rachel quickly jumped out, eager for something to do to distract herself from the blonde currently stepping out next to her on the sidewalk. The cab driver cleared his throat, too blatantly to be ignored, and Rachel swiftly collected herself enough to shove some money his way without a noticeable delay. He grasped the bills tightly in his hand and glanced at Quinn—who was watching from a couple steps to Rachel's left—before turning away to maneuver his cab into traffic once again in search of a new fair.
Rachel barely hesitated to watch him go—slightly confused as to why her sizeable tip wasn't even acknowledged, much less the fair hadn't even been spared a glance at all—before shaking her head and looking up into Quinn's waiting eyes.
Quinn was amazing—charming, considerate, thoughtful, gorgeous—really everything Rachel had been hoping for, which was kind of the problem that had Rachel flying out of almost moving vehicles without a second thought. It was just too much for the tiny Diva, who was terrified of getting burned once again. It would destroy her and—whether Quinn meant to cause it or not—Rachel felt like she was headed for a crash and burn of epic proportions every time the blonde so much as looked at her, seeming to effortlessly make her heart race.
Swallowing, Rachel again pushed her reservations away—making sure to smile brightly like her inner turmoil wasn't present at all—because Rachel knew that in a matter of minutes Quinn would have her throwing caution to the wind all over again. The only way to stop it was to leave and Rachel knew she wanted it too much to go, not after everything she did to get there.
"I procured a table at Per Se for tonight but when I awoke this morning I came to the conclusion that such a gesture wasn't exactly indicative of me," Rachel explained, shifting the bag in her hands to the one furthest away from Quinn.
"Really?" the blonde laughed, her eyebrow raised, saying everything she hadn't wanted to say.
Rachel smiled with a slight nod of her head, absently wondering if being up to date with what the tabloids printed about Rachel Berry was business or pleasure for Quinn. Either way, the blonde certainly knew a lot more about her career than it had seemed the first day they had met: when Quinn and Puck had showed up pretending they had no idea who she was at all.
"I know such a thing must be hard to believe with the way the media portrays my life," admitted Rachel, tilting her head to the side in thought about some of the stuff she'd read over the years. "I believe just last month I allegedly purchased Mel Gibson's private jet from his hemorrhaging estate or something equally as ridiculous. Rest assured the majority of what you hear isn't true."
"So, you're saying, you really don't have a private jet to whisk me away to Paris for dinner at the Eiffel Tower?" Quinn sighed, crossing her arms petulantly in a way that had Rachel biting her lip to keep from laughing.
"I'm sorry to say that if I ever wanted to go to Paris, I'd be flying commercially just like the rest of the world. Why one would spend an obscene amount of money on something as gaudy as a personal aircraft, I'll never know."
The two had reached the entrance of the park and Rachel absently reached out to grasp the blonde's hand, pulling her in the direction the tiny brunette wanted them to go. Quinn willingly followed, lacing their fingers together with a small smile.
"So what is Chinese in the park supposed to say about you?"
Rachel gazed up at her, momentarily distracted by the blonde's swirling hazel eyes. She wished she knew what that look meant because Rachel only wanted it to mean one thing: that this was real, that Quinn was there because she wanted this too. Unfortunately, the blonde was like a Sphinx—built like a fortress to keep people out and everything inside safe—and the irony of somebody like Rachel being interested in somebody virtually impenetrable was not lost on the tiny brunette.
"It is common knowledge that I enjoy grand gestures, it comes with the territory of being a performer after all. In the past, I lived for such occasions and I often confused extravagance for affection without a second thought." Rachel's eyes went glassy as she remembered those days in her youth—how simple gestures seemed so extravagant to her, made her feel so cared for and how wrong she ultimately was—before shaking her head to clear her thoughts. "It wasn't until later in my life when I found myself being guilty of being the one to substitute gestures for love that I realized how damaging such a practice could be for both of the parties involved. I decided afterward that I wouldn't allow myself to do such a thing again, whether I meant such a gesture or not. Hence Chinese in the park."
When Quinn didn't say anything, Rachel glanced up at her once again. The blonde seemed almost pensive—biting her bottom lip, the bright green in her hazel eyes dulled down to a murky brown—and before Rachel could say anything, Quinn seemed to snap out of it just as quickly as the look appeared.
The detective squeezed Rachel's hand gently, willing the tiny Diva to face her and come to a complete stop. The blonde's eyes were their dazzlingly colour once again and Quinn smiled so shyly, almost like she was unsure of how to do it at all. It was the most beautiful smile Rachel had ever seen and it was suddenly hard to breathe.
"I'm having a really great time," Quinn uttered softly and the brunette was almost relieved when air started to fill her lungs. "This is probably the best date I've ever been on."
Rachel wasn't sure whether to be thrilled or insanely jealous of the blonde's skill. She was realizing very quickly why Quinn was such a great detective. When she wasn't being completely charming—whilst somehow managing to say hardly anything revealing at all—she was manufacturing a bubble of intimacy around them, shielding them from the outside world, effortlessly getting Rachel to talk freely in a way she barely spoke to Santana. What angered Rachel most was that she couldn't figure out if Quinn was doing it intentionally or if it was completely accidental.
Still, she was kind of delighted and the Quinn staring at her now seemed different in a way Rachel couldn't quite define. Besides, she was having an amazing time too and she didn't want the give pink elephant looming behind them a chance to ruin the evening.
"Me too," Rachel whispered before dragging them both to a bench off to the side of the path. "We have arrived at our destination. We only have a few hours of good light left but I imagine you'll have to return to your policing duties before then."
Quinn smiled, as she watched Rachel quickly unpack the bag of food and pile the containers between them on the bench.
"Unfortunately, I do. I have a lot of open cases I still need to solve."
Rachel pushed a container with accompanying chopsticks towards Quinn with a small grin and tilted her head to the side, daring Quinn to take the food from her hands. The blonde's fingers brushed hers and Rachel bit her lip in surprise, not expecting the sudden tingles she hadn't felt in an extremely long time. She quickly turned towards the water, smirking when she heard Quinn gasp.
The Pond was really her favourite spot in all of Central Park. She had been extremely pleased this morning when she realized New York was getting a brief reprieve from the frigid temperatures March had been offering thus far and she wasn't about to let such an opportunity go to waste.
From their spot the old stone and cobble bridge was just visible underneath the whirls of blues, pinks and reds in the sky. Unfortunately, the trees hadn't yet started to sprout for spring by the tranquility of rushing water and the sunset were definitely worth the trip. If given the choice Rachel would choose to be this over the simulated romance of Per Se any day.
"I hope you haven't been here before, though I've been many times and the novelty has yet to wear off for me thus far."
When she didn't received a prompt response, Rachel turned to look at Quinn, who had her eyes glued to the colours of the sky. The woman seemed to realize Rachel was staring because she answered back seconds later.
"No." It was said almost absently—like the blonde had no idea she was saying it at all—until Quinn turned to look at Rachel with an impish grin. "Well yes, but not like this. I passed through while chasing a purse snatcher when I was in uniform."
Rachel laughed, throwing her head back and imagining a younger Quinn running after a purse laden thief. Such a character was certainly an impostor to the craft. "I assume you caught the thieving scoundrel and saved the day?"
The blonde smiled and nodded, bringing a piece of broccoli up from her container and shoving it in her mouth like she hadn't eaten for days. From what Finn had implied, Quinn probably forgot many meals in favour of catching the bad guys.
Rachel looked down at the other containers between them, picking up a couple in silent deliberation before deciding on one and holding it out to the blonde, who had managed to finish the last of the food in her container off while Rachel was still deciding.
"Chicken Fried Rice," explained Rachel when Quinn just continued to look at the white box, blushing when she realized the sight she must have made. "Don't worry, I got it for you. I'm a vegan, after all. Besides, keeping one of New York's finest sufficiently nourished is my duty as a raving New Yorker."
The woman was still staring and Rachel obnoxiously waved the box between them—in hopes that it would look enticing enough for the blonde to take it—until Quinn placed her empty container down on the opposite side of her, grabbing at the new one fairly eagerly. Once Quinn had it open, she looked up with an inquiring stare.
"So, tell me something about Rachel Berry the Internet doesn't know?"
Rachel finished chewing slowly, trying to decide what she was going to say. Admittedly, she had lots to say that wasn't admittance to being the thief Quinn was after but Rachel was still a little hesitant to drop that wall down, especially when Quinn had a knack for keeping her talking about those things she really didn't want to share.
"Well, since you are already well versed in my personal life story and have electronically attained second base all before the first date, I'd much rather hear more about you and keep the mysterious veil I'm told chicks find attractive still intact."
Quinn laughed and nodded almost like she expected it, much to Rachel's dismay. "Alright that seems fair, but only if you tell me something after. Quid pro quo, Clarice."
Rachel smiled before shyly looking down and playing with the vegetables and tofu pieces still left in her container. She knew she needed to do this because the more they talked the more likely Quinn would offer that something that chased her doubts away. Rachel had yearned for that moment from the very instant she'd opened her door revealing the most amazing eyes she'd ever seen.
Glancing back up, the tiny brunette was determined to see this through, her nerves once again nonexistent. "While I find it somewhat frightening that you decided to loosely quote a cannibalistic serial killer to entice me to meet your demands, I will agree to such a stipulation if you meet mine."
Quinn smirked slightly before nodding her head. "What is it you want to know? I'm not all that interesting."
With so many choices, Rachel's brain was tripping over itself to offer suggestions and it was ironic—and completely tragic—that she couldn't ask the only question she wanted an answer to. Clearly, even fate had no problem mocking her and Rachel almost felt like her life was slowly turning into an Alanis Morissette song. Still, Quinn was staring at her expectantly, waiting on a question, and Rachel realized she was being forced into accepting second best. It was like when she won that Teen Choice surf board.
"After careful deliberation, since I pride myself on never wasting any opportunity, I've decided to ask about your choice of employment, or more accurately your choice to become an officer of the law," Rachel uttered, capping off her speech with a convincing nod at the end.
Quinn looked contemplative, the question effectively prying her interest away from the food in her hands until the blonde was only absently stabbing at it with a chopstick. Rachel waited, wondering if her nerves getting the best of her again had effectively screwed everything up. Then Quinn turned—raising one of her legs up under her body so she could be fully facing Rachel on the narrowness of the bench—and shrugged with a small grin.
"It's nothing too exciting. I didn't know what I wanted to do for the longest time so when I went to college I just took all the classes that sounded interesting. By my second year, when I needed to pick a major, the counselor that was helping me told me most of my classes corresponded with the Police Foundations course, so I kind of just went with it."
Rachel studied Quinn carefully and the blonde just looked right back at her appearing as calm and nonchalant as her story had been. For all extensive purposes, Quinn had been just sharing a well-treaded part of her life but for some reason Rachel didn't believe her. In fact, Rachel was positive Quinn had just lied right to her face—even if there was no way to prove it—and Rachel quickly realized that Quinn could've been lying to her the entire time. She really had no way of knowing, either way.
Trying her best to seem like she hadn't just figured out Quinn was the best liar she'd ever seen, Rachel put on another smile and it was kind of disheartening how easy it was while sitting beside Quinn.
"Well," Rachel murmured, holding the last syllable a little longer than necessary until she felt the jolt of confidence she had been waiting for, "the NYPD were certainly the receivers of Lady Luck's fortune then."
The blonde blushed, looking at her with sparkling eyes and Rachel could already feel herself falling back into their trap. She exhaled deeply—feeling like she was spiraling out of control—looking around, desperate to find something to grab onto and only seeing more hazel. Thankfully, Quinn looked away and down to the phone that was beeping angrily in her pocket before Rachel completely unravelled.
When Quinn glanced back up with an apologetic look on her face, Rachel was more relieved than disappointed. The roller coaster that they were on was speeding way to fast down the track, especially when Rachel now knew for sure there was a brick wall looming in the distance.
"I'm sorry, I have to go. I'm needed for a case," Quinn whispered softly and it was terrifying how badly Rachel wanted to believe in her.
Instead, she quickly nodded, since the blonde had forewarned her of such an occurrence happening tonight, and did her best to smile. "It is perfectly alright. I was well aware of this being possibility beforehand, as I'm sure you know."
Quinn smiled when the Diva started packing away the leftover food and slowly stood up, walking the few steps until she was in front of her. Rachel looked up, almost confused, before Quinn reached down to grasp both her hands and gently tugged her up, so they were standing about a foot away from each other.
"I'm still sorry," the blonde whispered, tilting her head to the side with another charming smile.
Rachel's face flushed, her lip finding its way between her teeth, before exhaling a breath and dropping one of Quinn's hands. The blonde opened her mouth to say something but Rachel was already turned around to grab the bag she'd left resting on the bench.
"I'm sure you're aware of my choice of veganism," Rachel stated, glancing back up at Quinn when she was fully turned back around, and held out the bag of food, "and since I bought the majority of this with you in mind, as I wasn't sure what dish you favoured, most of this will go to waste unless you take it with you."
Quinn laughed at the stricken look on the brunette's face at the very thought of their dinner going to waste before grabbing the bag with her free hand. "Thanks, I think."
Rachel didn't say anything, just started to gently pull Quinn out of the park much like the way they had arrived. It wasn't until they made it back to the entrance did Quinn pull Rachel to a stop.
The tiny brunette turned to ask if something was wrong and Quinn was looking at her in the same way she'd been when she stopped them before. Only this time the blonde seemed unsure, almost like she was searching for the words to say. The more the seconds ticked away the more furrowed Quinn's brow became and Rachel watched as that sparkle in the blonde's eyes started to sadly fade away.
"Quinn…" she said softly, squeezing the hand she had trapped in her own.
The blonde blinked innately in response and there was still hardly any shine left to the amazing eyes she was so taken with. Rachel was almost desperate to get them back to normal and did something she really shouldn't have.
Rachel kissed her.
And there were no bells, chimes or sparks. The world didn't stop spinning and she didn't get weak in the knees, it was just warm and soft—and it was just right.
Pulling away, Rachel opened her eyes and didn't see what she expected to. Not the detective out to get her, or the person that had probably been lying to her from the moment they met but the woman who had earnestly told her she was having a really great time. She saw Quinn—who appeared to be more dazed than confused—with this resigned look on her face that said all that the blonde wouldn't allow herself to say.
"I know," Rachel whispered for both of them.
As they began walking again, Rachel wondered if knowing about the lies—knowing that they both wanted it to be different—was enough to see this through.
Honestly, she really wasn't sure.