Ain't That a Kick in the Head

Chapter 9

"They know where you are, Rachel. They have found you, and they'll be coming for you soon."

Rachel rolled her eyes at Kurt's dramatics.

"People accept that you're on a vacation," Kurt continued, "and not having some kind of alcoholic, drug-induced breakdown, thank God, but they want pictures. They want the whole story. Those two guys on the beach the other day are nothing compared to what could be coming."

Rachel rubbed her hand over her face and sighed. Kurt had been doing all the talking since she'd answered the phone five minutes ago-in the middle of the night, again, because Kurt refused to respect the time zone difference.

"And what could be coming, Kurt?" she asked reluctantly, staring at her reflection in the sliding glass door.

"We're going to keep playing this like a vacation. You're meeting up with old friends."

Rachel smiled slightly. That was sort of true.

"So everything you do needs to support that story." Kurt dragged out the statement, spelling it out for a child. "Always assume somebody's taking a picture. Assume they're listening and watching, because they will be."

"Kurt, come on." Rachel glanced around her hotel room, paranoid.

"I'm serious, Rachel. I don't exactly know this Quinn Fabray,"

Rachel could hear the smile in his voice.

"But I know that you know to keep whatever you're doing with her out of the light." Kurt paused. "Right? I'm right, right? Tell me I'm right. I need to know if Tina's feeding me false information again."

"Quinn and I aren't…" Rachel shook her head. "I mean, you're not wrong."

A muffled shriek came through the phone.

"But it's not like we're having sex on the pier and planning out our future together."

"Good." Kurt said resolutely. "I could do without the mental image, but good. Because I need you home in two weeks."

Rachel's breath hitched. She blinked at her reflection in the sliding door- sweats and a t-shirt, curly hair, eyes wide.

"You have an audition." Kurt plowed on. "A twisted romantic comedy, sort of dark if you look in the right places. I sent you the script in case you pass on Anything Goes."

"I…" Rachel tangled a hand in her hair and groaned silently. "That's not-"

"Oh, and I'd love a decision about Anything Goes within the next ten years, please."

"I still have four weeks left here, Kurt." Rachel spun in an anxious little circle by her bed. "I'm not coming back early."

"Are you doing Anything Goes?"

Rachel paced towards the door and searched for her shoes. "I don't know. But I'm not doing some silly little rom com in its place."

Kurt sighed like he'd expected nothing less. "If you came home sooner I'd have a lot less to deal with, you know. We could put all this bad press behind us. I wouldn't have to spin every single story that crosses my desk. Talk about future projects, get your fans excited for something. Please think about it."

Rachel clenched her jaw, grabbed her room key, and headed out the door.

"Two weeks." Kurt repeated. His voice softened. "You two still have some time."

"Maybe." Rachel mumbled. It was all she could get out without throwing her phone against the wall or breaking down in the elevator. She'd been counting on four more weeks. The thought of cutting that in half made her throat close up.

"Just let me know, sweetie. I'll be waiting."

Rachel hung up as she crossed the lobby. It occurred to her that she'd brought nothing-no ID, no bag, no cash-and her shoes were still soaked from the rain she'd run through earlier.

The cool night air allowed her to breathe, and to decide that no, she wouldn't even consider Kurt's idea. For now. She walked quickly because now she'd be forever paranoid that she was being stalked. She smiled automatically when she hit the gravel of Jupiter Surf.

The yellow side door wasn't locked, and Rachel rolled her eyes as she pushed it open. Mars was lying on top of the armchair, eyes glowing in the light from the moon. He blinked lazily and rolled to the side, obviously not the guard cat Quinn trusted him to be.

Rachel shut and locked the door, and then crept quietly towards the couch.

"Oh no," Quinn mumbled. Rachel smiled at her groggy voice. "Here it comes."

Quinn was stretched out on the couch with her face pressed into the cushions. Her blanket was tangled around her legs because it was just too hot to keep it on, and her shirt was twisted about halfway up her back.

Rachel leaned over and prodded where she expected Quinn's side was. "Hey, scoot over. I'm sleeping here tonight."

"No." Quinn grumbled, pressing herself forward against the cushions. "You 'kay?"

Rachel suspected she wasn't fully awake. She tugged down Quinn's shirt, dragged the blanket up her legs, and climbed behind her on the couch.

"Fine, honey. Go back to sleep."

"Don't…snore." Quinn murmured.

Rachel kissed Quinn's shoulder. "I won't. Do you?"

"Mm. Good." Quinn chuckled absently. She reached blindly for Rachel's hand and buried her face further into the couch cushions.

Rachel hugged her tightly, much closer than she would have if Quinn was fully awake. The couch was warm and sandy, with grit in every crevice. Quinn's hair smelled like saltwater and Rachel was dangerously close to going back over the edge, but she decided that she'd have to be crazy to trade four weeks of this for anything.

Mars woke her up, plodding along her side and digging into her ribs. Rachel blindly shoved him away and blinked open her eyes, confused. Her limbs felt achy and horrible and she was definitely not in her bed. One leg was slung over the edge of the couch and the other was jammed uncomfortably into the opposite arm. The blanket was nowhere to be seen.

She could feel the deep sleep lines in her face.

"Hey there."

Rachel wiped discreetly at her mouth and lifted her head to see Quinn. She stood on the opposite side of the room with a waffle in her hand and an amused smile on her face. She wore a light jacket-black leather, Rachel noted immediately-and dark jeans, and Rachel glanced self-consciously down at herself to make sure she hadn't lost any clothing in the night.

Quinn sidled up and sat on the coffee table.

"So, I found something in my bed this morning that wasn't there when I went to sleep." She drawled. Her smirk faded to confusion and she took a bite of her waffle. "I don't know how it got there."

"It's not a bed. It's a couch." Rachel said thickly.

And she decided to never sleep on it ever again. She tried straightening her leg out and winced at the pain in her knee.

"Maybe it slithered up through the floorboards." Quinn frowned. "Or maybe it was living under the cushions."

"Quinn, shut your face." Rachel rasped, attempting to sit up. She groaned at the cracking in her hip and rotated her shoulder experimentally.

Quinn held out her half-eaten waffle, eyebrow raised.

Rachel snorted slightly. "No, thank you."

"If you do some stretching you can work it out." Quinn offered easily. "Some gymnastics maybe. Do a few flips and you'll be good as new."

"How do you sleep here?"

Quinn shrugged. "It's built for one. My back seems to like it." She tipped her head and watched Rachel closely. "Are you okay? I really don't remember you coming in."

Rachel smiled softly, despite the pain in her joints. "Fine. I think you were half asleep."

"You're sure?" Quinn shoved the rest of her waffle into her mouth and brushed the crumbs off her lap. "Nothing happened?"

"Everything's fine."

Quinn didn't believe her. She'd woken up wrapped in Rachel Berry-not that she really wanted to complain-but there had to be a reason. Rachel's knee would probably be locked into the same position for the next few days, and that was worth something.

"Alright, Rachel Berry. Put some clothes on because we're going to Miami." Quinn clapped and stood up to fetch another waffle.

"What? Why?" Rachel ran a hand through her tangled hair, pouting at the state of her morning.

"Meeting a potential supplier." Quinn accidentally tipped the box of Eggo waffles upside down, sending about five of them cascading to the floor. She crouched and slid them all back into the package, and then grabbed a sticky note and a marker and wrote "For Sham" on the box before shoving it back in the freezer.

Rachel stared at her from across the room.

"So that's why you're dressed like that." She mused, after deciding Sam would be fine with a few contaminated waffles.

Quinn cut her eyes over. "Like what?"

"Like a member of civilized society." Rachel crossed the room to Quinn, ignoring her narrowed eyes.

Rachel's own gaze was fixed on the collar of Quinn's leather jacket. It sat about halfway up her neck, sharpening her jaw and absolutely fascinating Rachel. Quinn's hair was pulled back-clean, for once-and her sunglasses were tucked into the V of her t-shirt. Rachel tried-not very hard-to pretend she was looking for breakfast instead of eyeballing Quinn.

Quinn chuckled when she realized what was happening. She cupped a hand around the back of Rachel's neck and ducked closer, inches apart.

"Can you handle a three hour drive, Rachel?" Quinn whispered.

Rachel tried to scoff. She choked and nodded.

"Are you sure? Because it's gonna be hot." Quinn smiled. "This jacket will come off, and I'll put my sunglasses on, and sometimes pants are just too tight for any kind of underwear, you know?"

Quinn enjoyed seeing what kind of reactions she could elicit.

Rachel's eyes widened and Quinn kissed her while her jaw was dropped. Rachel moaned immediately and tipped forward, pressing Quinn against the counter, and Quinn laughed and pushed lightly on her shoulder to slide out of the trap.

She tried to ignore the abrupt rush of affection those wide brown eyes gave her.

"Six hours in a car today, Rachel Berry." Quinn turned Rachel around and pushed her gently towards a pile of clothes on the coffee table. "Let's get started."

"So, do you not drive anywhere? At all?" Rachel asked as they passed through West Palm Beach.

She'd quickly gotten the hang of Sam's car, a Jeep with a "Sea Turtles Dig the Dark" bumper sticker, and Quinn sat next to her, messing with the radio and eating a bag of grapes.

Quinn shook her head silently.

"But…groceries and errands, dentist appointments, church. Dates." Rachel glanced at Quinn, "You just ride with Sam and Mike and Santana? For everything?"

"Or walk." Quinn shrugged.

"That seems like it would hinder a relationship."

Quinn narrowed her eyes at the side of Rachel's head. "If their legs function they can make the walk."

Rachel nodded slowly. "But…say you get into a relationship with somebody who lives further away? Where walking isn't really feasible."

"How far?"

Three thousand miles, Florida to California. A full day of driving to get through Texas alone.

"Like…I don't know." Rachel tapped the steering wheel, hyperaware of Quinn's eyes on her. "Say she lives twenty minutes away. She'd be the only one able to make the drive, right?"

Quinn smiled slightly. "That's happened before."

"Yeah?"

Quinn hummed. "They don't really stick around long."

Rachel nodded sadly. "Idiots." She muttered, mostly to herself. She glanced over to find Quinn smiling at her. "Have you tried driving?" she wondered.

Quinn nodded.

"And…that didn't go so well?" Rachel guessed.

"Sure."

Rachel smiled wryly. It was like pulling teeth. "Can you drive? Or do you just…not want to?"

"I don't." Quinn said shortly.

Rachel nodded silently. She noticed Quinn's leg bouncing and refrained from further questions. She waited a few minutes to start singing along to the radio, and she caught Quinn's smile out of the corner of her eye.

Quinn finished her grapes as they drove through Boca and then directed Rachel past downtown Miami to Key Biscayne. She chuckled when she noticed that Rachel was crossing the bridge as slowly-and with as much distance between the car and the edge-as possible.

The guy they were meeting ran a scuba and snorkeling charter boat, so Rachel parked near the designated dock and waited to follow Quinn's lead. In one hundred miles, the temperature had gone up ten degrees and the humidity was stifling. Quinn's jacket was abandoned on the backseat.

"Ready for your sea legs, Rachel Berry?" Quinn chirped, sliding her Aviators up her nose.

Rachel was too busy taking in all of her surroundings to answer. Quinn pictured her stepping right off the dock and plunging into the bay, and she smiled and made sure to keep a hand on the small of Rachel's back.

"Hi there!"

The man who strode down the dock towards them was tall. He was tanned, sun-reddened, wearing boardies and a t-shirt and smiling widely. The dock creaked with every step. He held out his hand and stopped in front of Quinn.

"I'm Finn Hudson. You must be Quinn."

Quinn smiled. "That's right."

"And Rachel Berry!" Finn declared, like he wasn't at all surprised to see her there. "I heard you were down around here. I don't have a TV so I can't say I'm a fan, but people say you're awesome."

"I-that's…" Rachel faltered. She wondered how sheltered from the press she really was in her little Jupiter bubble. Maybe Kurt was right and she was underestimating the extent of their coverage of her.

"Thank you." She managed to smile politely. "I'm just-I'm working with Quinn for a bit."

Quinn watched her curiously.

"That's cool." Finn nodded easily. He gestured behind him. "I thought we'd just hop on the boat and talk."

Quinn waved her hand. "Take us away."

The step from the dock to the boat was easy for Finn, and he turned around and held his hand out for Rachel.

"Ready for a swim, Ms. Berry?" Quinn asked brightly, poised behind Rachel to catch her if she tipped backwards.

Rachel spun around, eyebrow raised. "I will push you in that water, Quinn."

"Please do." Quinn leaned forward challengingly, holding eye contact. She whispered so that only Rachel could hear. "It's so hot out here isn't it?"

Rachel pursed her lips. She ignored Quinn's smug smile and faced forward again, hopping lightly onto the boat with Finn's help. There were two long wooden benches under a sheltered lounge area, with metal rows behind them to hold the tanks during a day trip.

Finn settled on one of the benches with Rachel and Quinn opposite. He told them about his business, and then about his future plans and his interest in partnering with Quinn.

"Basically, my place here is overflowing." Finn explained. "I'm totally packed with business. It's the perfect place for scuba, you know?"

Quinn nodded. She was leaning forward and listening intently, brow furrowed. Rachel enjoyed watching her work-the way her eyes flashed or lit up, how she'd hum or grind her teeth.

"So I wanna expand." Finn continued. "I have buddies to take care of my stuff here- the boat, the shop, all that. I was looking at Jupiter, trading the dolphins for manatees."

Quinn hummed vaguely. "There are still dolphins there."

"Right, yeah, it's the beach." Finn laughed. He clapped his hands against his legs. "Extending an established surf shop is my plan. You already have a snorkeling section, which is obviously lacking, and I could add to that."

Quinn pursed her lips thoughtfully.

"Provide everything the marine enthusiast could hope for." Finn grinned. "We could even look into charters, under the name of Jupiter Surf. Owned by you, run by me, we could start with weekends and take loads of divers out to the reef."

"Run by you." Quinn repeated.

Rachel smothered a smile at her dubious tone.

"Like, in a literal way." Finn nodded. "I drive the boat, handle the people on the trips. I supply the store, but stay out of sight. For now."

Quinn nodded slowly. Her gaze drifted off to the water as she considered what Finn was saying.

"And I mean, you could totally expand if you wanted to get out of Jupiter." Finn suggested. "You know, open a surf shop on the Gulf, maybe Hawaii, southern California."

Rachel's breath hitched. Her mouth dropped open and her fingers tightened around the bench.

Finn interpreted her reaction as interest. He smiled at Rachel. "Right? Huntington, Hermosa, Venice, Malibu. She'd be right next door, huh? It'd be totally cool. Or you could stay in Jupiter. I don't think California has manatees."

Rachel caught Quinn's eye. She couldn't read anything there, but Quinn's gaze was sharp, serious. There was some surprise, some wariness, and then Quinn clenched her jaw and looked away.

They left Finn with promises to contact him soon, and then stood outside the Jeep for five minutes waiting for the AC to start circulating.

"I like his ideas." Rachel offered vaguely.

She tried to lean casually against the door of the Jeep, but she scalded her arms and leapt forward with a shriek.

"Easy there, Rachel." Quinn smiled slightly, reaching out to check Rachel's arms.

"What did you think of them? Of his ideas?"

Quinn bobbled her head around. "I think I'd trust him on a boat."

"So you're considering…everything he talked about?"

Quinn dropped Rachel's arms when she determined that they were okay. Her gaze flickered up to Rachel's, amused.

"Yeah. I am." She said softly.

Rachel bit her lip. She ducked her head and smiled down at her feet.

"Now get in the car and drive me home, Rachel Berry." Quinn smiled, eyes dancing behind her sunglasses. They were both red-faced and sweaty, ready to jump into the ocean. "These pants are so uncomfortable with no underwear on."

Rachel hummed sagely, totally prepared this time. She settled a hand at the front of Quinn's jeans, letting her fingers pull down on the waist. Quinn gasped and tipped back against the Jeep.

"I guess you'll just have to take them off in the car." Rachel whispered.

She smiled, pleased with herself, and climbed into the driver's seat for the three-hour ride.

….

"There are three ways to deal with oncoming waves when you're paddling out during a set."

Rachel bounced excitedly in the waist-deep water, hands clasped together.

"You can ignore them and let them pummel you and drag you all the way to shore." Quinn smiled. "Or you can duck dive or turtle roll."

"Ooh, that sounds like fun."

Quinn put a hand on her shortboard and nodded at Rachel. "I won't teach you the duck dive because it can't be done on a longboard. It's like trying to hold a ship underwater."

Rachel pouted slightly. "How do you do it?"

"You paddle at the wave-as fast as possible-and then push the nose underwater and get the board as deep as you can." Quinn explained, absently picking at the wax. "And then your body has to follow, with your knee holding the tail down."

Rachel nodded slowly. "That sounds…difficult."

Quinn chuckled.

"Teach me the turtle one."

"For a turtle roll-actually, you know what, lie on your board, Rachel." Quinn instructed. She let her own shortboard drift in the calm water and approached Rachel.

Rachel complied. They had both foregone rashguards for the day, so when Rachel lay on her board she found herself face to face with Quinn's stomach. Reddened from paddling around, toned, sun-tinted. Quinn didn't even realize Rachel was staring because her own eyes were fixed on the backs of Rachel's legs. She swallowed thickly and continued her explanation.

"For a turtle roll, you just flip over. You paddle towards the wave, grab the rails, and flip over."

Rachel frowned. "So I'll be underwater?"

"Yeah, Rachel. We're in the ocean." Quinn chuckled. She slicked the hair back off her face and scanned the horizon for a test swell. "Make sure you hold the board tightly and the wave will pass over you."

Rachel was skeptical.

"If you let go, someone's gonna get knocked unconscious by your foamie."

"This seems…counter-intuitive." Rachel mused. Dumping herself into the water right as the wave hit couldn't possibly be the best plan.

Quinn winked at her and dragged the board towards some breaking whitewater. "Trust me, Rachel Berry."

Rachel did. She really did, and she tried her best. After an hour, Quinn had come to the conclusion that Rachel had chosen option one-the "let the wave pummel you and drag you all the way to shore" route. She'd either let go of the board every time-Quinn made sure to stay several yards away-or she'd manage to hold on but surface too early.

"It's like a cartoon!" Rachel shrieked after being wrecked by the wave once again. She stalked towards Quinn, stingray shuffle forgotten, angrily dragging her giant board behind her. "I can't just capsize and cling to the bottom like an insect!"

"Why not?" Quinn watched, amused. She was draped over her shortboard and drifting easily with the swells.

"It's the stupidest way to get past the waves."

Quinn hummed. She dropped her chin onto her hands. "Do you have a better idea?"

Rachel slowly sunk as her irrational anger at the ocean faded. "Well, I could…Can people tow you out there?"

Quinn laughed. "Sure, if you're a monster wave surfer on the North Shore." She reached out with her foot and nudged Rachel's thigh. "I'm not calling the jet-skis to get you to a head-high break."

Rachel sighed and dropped her chin onto her hands.

Quinn smiled at her- red eyed from the seawater, burnt cheeks, skewed bikini top.

"I'm gonna tell you something, Rachel." Quinn informed. "But only if you promise not to ask me any questions."

Rachel eyed her suspiciously. She nodded silently against her board.

"Really? You'll be able to stop yourself from asking questions?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Tell me." She murmured.

Quinn nodded. She licked her lips and ran her fingertips over the wax bumps on her board. Rachel let hers drift closer so that the rails knocked into each other.

"My mom's visiting in two weeks." Quinn said stiffly. "I haven't seen or spoken to her in three years, but she's coming and she's staying until after the Pro-Am."

Rachel nodded intently.

"She knows about…my sexuality, and I'm not going to hide anything from her. Or change anything for her." Quinn caught Rachel's gaze. "She'll be sleeping in my guest room and probably hanging around the shop, and I just wanted to give you a heads up."

Rachel pressed her lips together to prevent herself from speaking. What's your mom like? Why haven't you spoken in three years? Will you still sleep at the shop with your mom at your house?

She kept them all inside.

"And it would be best if we all avoid bringing up the past. At all." Quinn added.

Rachel hummed and nodded. "That-"

"No questions."

"It's a comment." Rachel scoffed. She stood up in the water with her palms flat on the board. "Just…that all sounds fine. I'm sure it will be a nice experience."

Quinn smiled, watching Rachel try to control herself. "You look ready to burst."

"And you have friends around if you need anything. I'm sure they'll help out."

"Wow," Quinn drawled. "Your face is really red."

"We've been out here for hours." Rachel countered.

Quinn nodded. She stood and gently grabbed Rachel's arm before she could start heading for shore. Rachel's agitated expression softened immediately.

"Thanks." Quinn murmured.

Rachel nodded and smiled at her. "Of course, Quinn Fabray."