A/N: OK, so hello. I know you'd all probably love to throw fruit at me for taking this long. I apologize. But here it is. This chapter was a BEAST to tame! Anyway, enjoy and review! Thank you to all those who have reviewed and favourited! It really does mean a lot to me. So here you go! Enjoy! :D
Disclaimer: Do not own Glee. Just borrowing the characters. Plot is mine though.
Chapter 9
Quinn shifted her legs experimentally; trying to feel for the body she hoped was still in the bed with her. Silky skin met silky skin under the covers and she smiled at the warmth the touch evoked. She moved her arms to cuddle Rachel and pulled herself closer to the petite body.
"Good morning," said Rachel, her voice still lazy with sleep.
"Good morning," she replied, nuzzling into Rachel's soft hair and giving her a tight squeeze. "I'll be honest and say I was sure you would bolt and take refuge in the guest room."
Rachel wrapped her arms around Quinn's, melting into the morning embrace and the safety of the arms encircling her. "I'll be honest and say the thought had crossed my mind," she laughed, "But I couldn't remember how to move after your performance last night."
Quinn laughed lightly at the admission, burying her face further into the messy brown locks of her lover. "Then I'm glad I was that thorough."
Rachel smiled and rubbed her legs against Quinn's under the sheets.
"Was that," Quinn struggled for the correct phrasing. "I mean, it was okay, right?"
Rachel's face scrunched in puzzlement but Quinn's face was still buried in her hair so she couldn't see the confusion dancing in her brown eyes.
"You don't regret it do you?" asked Quinn; nervous of the answer she would receive.
"Quinn, look at me," said Rachel. She waited for hazel eyes to peek out of the mess of hair. "Do I look like I regret it?" she asked with a smile.
"You look beautiful," answered Quinn earnestly. She thought about how lucky she would be to wake up to this sight every morning. "But that doesn't answer my question."
Rachel rolled her eyes but turned around to face the blond. She leaned in to press her lips against Quinn's.
"No, Quinn. I do not regret a single second," she said firmly. She watched the soft, pink lips spread eagerly into a smile and felt her facial expression mirror that of the angel in her bed.
"Good. Neither do I," said Quinn.
"It felt right," said Rachel, more to herself than to Quinn. "Also, you were kind of amazing. Where did you learn to do that?"
Quinn blushed furiously at the turn the conversation had taken, and pulled a pillow over her head to hide her embarrassment.
"We're not having this conversation, Rachel," her muffled voice replied.
"Why not?" she asked, genuinely curious now.
"Because, I just want to hold you right now," she replied, moving her arms around Rachel's waist again.
"It's a simple question, Quinn," Rachel pushed, tugging the pillow from Quinn's head.
"Rachel," she whined.
"Alright, fine."
"Thank you," Quinn said, exhaling slowly like she had just dodged a bullet. She pulled the brunette closer to her body and enjoyed the sunlight dancing on the tanned skin left exposed by the sheets.
"This is more satisfying than talking anyway," admitted Rachel. Quinn nodded in agreement and dropped soft kisses on Rachel's neck and shoulder. A few minutes passed in silence while they each succumbed to the loving bubble they had wrapped themselves in.
"So, how many were there before me?" Rachel asked bluntly, unable to contain herself any longer.
"Rachel!" shrieked Quinn.
The stubborn brunette huffed but filed the conversation away for a later date.
Their soft touches and kisses had turned greedier and more heated, and before Quinn knew it Rachel was panting.
"Do that thing again, you know, with the swirl?" she'd asked innocently.
And Quinn had grinned devilishly, disappearing under the sheet, eager to fulfil the request.
It was mid morning by the time Rachel and Quinn had left the bedroom.
They chased each other into the kitchen, glad that there was no audience to see their enamoured interactions. Quinn was especially glad that both Michael and Joshua had already left for work and she would not have to endure the looks, which silently accused her of doing indecent things with their precious daughter. She hoped to put off that conversation for as long as possible.
"What should we make for breakfast?" asked Rachel as she peered into the refrigerator. Quinn wrapped her arms around her waist and peered into the refrigerator over the brunette's shoulder. She soon discovered that the caramel skin of Rachel's neck looked so much more appetizing than anything she had glimpsed within the cold confines.
"You pick," she said, laving her tongue along the column of her neck.
"I'm not on the menu, Quinn," smiled Rachel, her eyes fluttering closed and betraying the stern tone of her voice.
"Why not?" she asked, moving to shift Rachel's skirt a little higher and exposing the skin of her thighs. Rachel groaned at the assault on her body, Quinn's touch easily coaxing the response from her.
"Don't I satisfy you?" she asked, worry filling her voice. "You always seem to want more."
Quinn moved her mouth to Rachel's ear and tugged on the lobe before answering huskily, "Baby, you're the only thing that does." Reading between the lines of Rachel's statement she added, "That's why I always want you." Her words melted away Rachel's insecurities. Quinn's hand snaked under Rachel's blouse and cupped her breast, teasing the nipple under the fabric of her bra.
"Oh," whimpered Rachel. Surprised by the sudden sensation as well as Quinn's words.
"How about you hop onto the counter?" she whispered into Rachel's ear, rubbing the pads of her fingers across the front of Rachel's cotton underwear. Rachel's breath hitched in her throat. "Quinn, we can't," she squeaked.
"Then why did you get that much wetter when I suggested it?" she breathed against her neck, her mouth moving to suck on a bruise she'd left last night.
"How can I not when you're doing what you're doing?" she replied breathlessly.
"So," she husked, "Counter?"
Rachel spun around to face the blond, her brown eyes dark with lust. She pushed Quinn back against the kitchen counter and the blond took in the dominating look on Rachel's face, a smirk playing on her lips. Rachel motioned for Quinn to sit on the counter and she eagerly complied, pulling Rachel's smaller frame towards her. Delicate fingers made light work of the button and zipper of the jeans she was wearing, before they were tugged down the strong, pale thighs they had covered. Impatient for more contact Quinn pulled Rachel's face closer, bending down to capture her lips in a searing kiss. Rachel broke the contact and licked her lips, gently pushing Quinn onto her back. She ducked her head between the pale thighs and moaned when she felt Quinn's arousal against her lips.
Rachel's head snapped up at the sound of the shrieking telephone. Quinn tightened her grip in the mussed, brown locks and groaned, "Just let it ring baby," hoping that Rachel wouldn't stop what she was doing. She moaned lightly at the teasing tongue of her lover, ignoring the persistent ringing of the telephone. Rachel tried to drown out the wailing phone, focusing instead on the favourable sounds exiting Quinn's perfect mouth. The trilling sound kept piercing her consciousness, ripping her away from the moment she was sharing with the beauty on the counter top, and reminding her that they were in her parent's kitchen. She sighed in exasperation, torn between pleasure and obligation.
"Quinn, it could be important," Rachel protested.
"Rachel, are you kidding me?" she answered incredulously. Rachel smiled bemusedly at her girlfriend's frazzled response and placed a kiss on both her thighs. Turning her attention away from the body lying on the counter, she moved to pick up the phone.
"Berry residence," she announced into the receiver, pushing the sultriness out of her voice and replacing it with courtesy. "This is Rachel Berry," she added, after the caller's response.
Quinn growled her disappointment, resting her head back against the counter with a dull thump. She listened to Rachel's exchanges with the caller, hearing the deflation in her usually strong voice with each passing phrase. Sighing with the dissatisfaction of knowing their previous activities would not be continued; she wrestled her clothes back on and sat up on the counter, kicking her legs with impatience.
"Alright, I'll see you then. Thank you," said Rachel. She returned the handset back to its cradle and sighed.
"Rachel?" prompted Quinn.
Rachel turned to face the blond, folding her arms across her chest. Her brow was furrowed with anxiety. Quinn's pulse quickened at the signs of distress.
"What's going on? Who was that?" she asked, trying to remain calm.
"It was Stephen Norton," she answered, looking up at Quinn. "He's the co-ordinator for the Lima Community Theatre. He wants me to assist with their production," she said slowly, trying to process the information as she uttered it.
"Okay," said Quinn.
"They need an assistant stage manager," she continued. "Mark from N.A gave them my name because he knows of my theatre background," she swallowed, "It's part of the programme to give back to the community and he thought I'd be interested."
Quinn slid from the counter and wrapped her arms around Rachel. She placed a soft kiss on her forehead and looked into her eyes, trying to soothe away the worry she found in her face. "And aren't you?" she questioned.
Rachel closed her eyes against the question. It wasn't something she thought she'd have to face again. She felt unprepared, yet obligated.
"I haven't been near the theatre, not since Tony," she whispered. Quinn instinctively held her a little tighter. "I know I have to do this, but I'm not sure if I want to. I don't know if I'm ready to go back into that world. And I know it's not the same world I'm referencing, but," she finally drew a shaky breath. "Quinn, I'm scared."
Quinn moved her hand to rub lazy circles on her back, trying to comfort the brunette. "It will be okay. I know it's scary, but you can do this. If Mark put your name forward he must think you're ready for this. I think you are," she said gently. She felt Rachel's shaky breaths caress her neck. "You don't have to decide right now, but at least think about it. There's so much you have to offer them Rachel."
"What if I can't?" she answered, her voice tight with threatening tears.
"Then you can walk away. But the Rachel Berry I know will at least try. There is still a piece of you missing. You can feel that, can't you? Theatre was your dream, and I don't think you've given that up yet. I think you're just scared. But I'm here. I'll protect you," she affirmed.
"I know you will," she answered, pulling back from the blond's body to look at her through shining eyes.
Rachel walked into the theatre, making her way down the soft, carpeted aisle between the seats. Her heart thudded wildly in her chest, filling her ears with its rhythmic drumming. The stage loomed in front of her, the house lights were dim and it took her eyes a few moments to adjust from the brightness she had faced outside. There was a familiarity in the air as she sucked in breath, trying desperately to calm her nerves. Though she had never performed in this particular theatre, she held the space in a kind of reverence. A dull click bounced around the walls as a single spotlight flooded a figure on the stage. The young woman had long, black hair, which spilled loosely around her face and cascaded down her shoulders. She faced house left; her expression twisted in agony, then took a few steps towards stage left wringing her hands nervously. As Rachel watched the actress blocking the movements on the stage she couldn't help but wonder if that's what she looked like in that moment. She felt rooted to the spot, eagerly awaiting her own stage directions, while her mind was screaming at her to run, her body was trying to move closer to the stage.
The silence was broken as the girl spoke. Her voice piercing the internal debate Rachel was having in the darkened silence of the house. The sound of gentle notes issuing from a piano, cued the songstress, and her vocals traversed the empty expanse filling Rachel's ears. The breath caught in her throat and she felt winded. She stood statuesque, glimpsing all that she had lost. She choked loudly as her throat constricted and suddenly she was spluttering and fighting for air. She willed her body to move so no one would witness her break down, but the house lights were already on and someone was saying, "Stop, stop."
A man rose from his seat and made his way towards her.
"Rachel, you made it," said Mark. She blinked wildly trying to reorient herself in her current reality. "Is everything alright?" he asked.
Rachel nodded, rubbing her sweaty palms on her pants, her body and mind still in shock.
"This her?" asked a second figure. He looked at her condescendingly as he towered over her, jerking a thumb in her direction. He communicated his distaste and disinterest in her with his stony eyes.
"I thought you were getting me a professional," he remarked.
The insult penetrated through Rachel's shock and she remembered where she was. She pulled herself to her full height and looked the obnoxious director right in his eyes, staring him down with indignation.
"You want to talk professional?" she said. "That girl up there was sharp on the end phrases, she's going to need some serious vocal training. The blocking was elementary level at best, and instead of a single spotlight, try a more ethereal lighting effect from downstage," she listed off confidently. "The truth is your amateur hour would be lucky to have me."
The director stared at her dumbstruck by her tirade. He extended his hand to shake hers as he said, "You're hired Miss Berry."
