Title: Someone I've Been Missing (The Better Half of Me)
Pairing: Quinn Fabray/Rachel Berry
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.
Summary: AU/Future fic. Quinn, a rising sophomore in college, meets Rachel for the first time just before the school term begins. An argument between them leaves Rachel wanting nothing more than to forget that Quinn even exists. But she soon finds out that she can't get rid of the determined blonde that easily.
A/N: I think we have only 2...3 more chapters to go, til it's finished! :)
Quinn awakes to find herself alone in bed. This whole not being able to sleep without Rachel thing was quickly getting old. Her eyes crack open and she instantly groans against the head splitting pain she feels pulsing through her head. "I'm gonna die," she chokes out.
Alarmed, Rachel runs into her bedroom to see Quinn lying on the bed, one hand cradling her head and the other covering her eyes. She sighs in relief before walking over to a nearby window and closing the curtains. She swiftly walks back over to the bed and hands Quinn the pill and glass of water she had sat on the nightstand earlier, having anticipated the blonde's hangover.
She takes the offered pill and chucks it down her throat before chasing it with a swallow of water. Her lips glisten as she places the cup back on the nightstand and she looks up to Rachel to see her looking back down at her.
Dark eyes bore into hers and it takes Quinn by surprise the amount of emotions swirling in their depths. Relief, anger, pain, anxiousness, sadness, and love. She can tell by the set of Rachel's mouth that she's having a hard time deciding which emotion to lash out with. Her mouth opens and closes. She swallows hard before speaking. "I'm glad you're safe."
Before Quinn can even respond Rachel is out the door. She slumps back against her pillow, digging the heels of her palms into her eyes. Much of last night is a blur, she doesn't even remember the walk to Rachel's house, but she does remember Rachel's protective arms wrapped around her as they both slept.
A wave of nausea washes over her as she remembers why she had been drinking in the first place. Rachel's leaving her. To move to California to jump start a career that she apparently loves more than her. She rolls out of bed before trudging into the bathroom. She frowns at her unkempt face in the mirror before opening Rachel's medicine cabinet to retrieve a spare toothbrush. After brushing her teeth and grabbing a washcloth to wash her face she walks into the kitchen.
She sits opposite Rachel at the table and a warm cup of coffee is slid towards her. "Thank you," she whispers. They sit in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Quinn's leg bounces up and down with nerves and Rachel's tired eyes track the movement, picking up on the blonde's aggravation before she even voices it.
Cradling the mug of coffee in both of her hands for warmth, Quinn removes the cup from her lips and places it against the table. "Are you moving to California?" she says quietly.
Rachel tenses, having expected the question but still being ill prepared to answer it. There's so much more at stake than simply moving to California. "Quinn, it's more complicated than that."
"Well I would know just how complicated it is if you would have told me in the first place about that letter."
"I'm sorry. I neglected to tell you about the letter but only because I didn't want to put unnecessary stress onto our relationship."
"Look how well that turned out," she snaps, hopping from her seat. Her head hurts from the loud sound of her chair sliding across the floor but she soldiers on in her frustration.
"Quinn, sit down—"
"I don't want to sit down." She paces the floor of Rachel's kitchen, all of the anger and hurt she was feeling yesterday coming back to her full force. "We've been together for almost three months now, Rachel," she says evenly. "Were you –was I really that forgettable and insignificant enough for you to pack up your shit and leave me without even having the courtesy to tell me?"
Rachel feels her anger flare up at Quinn playing the victim when she wasn't exactly innocent the night before. "You think you're forgettable? Pardon me, Quinn, but it seems that whenever we have an argument you go out to party with Santana and Brittany and you spend your time drinking copious amounts of alcohol –which is illegal considering you're only twenty— and encouraging easy women to hang all over you the entire night. Seems like the only forgettable one in this relationship is me!" she fires back, out of her seat to come face to face with Quinn. She feels sick to her stomach as she remembers having to bear witness to the girl's obvious advances and Quinn doing nothing to stop them. And then when they almost kissed –she wants to vomit.
Quinn swallows thickly. "I didn't do anything with her," she lamely defends. Her hackles rise at Rachel's tone and she's fired up again. "And don't say 'whenever we have an argument.' This is our first one! And I thought you were leaving me. Which you are by the way. And finally," she steps close to Rachel, "don't you lecture me about underage drinking. Have we forgotten about Spencer already? Huh? Just like you're going to forget about me?"
Rachel crosses her arms across her chest, against the barrage of claims flying from Quinn's mouth. Her eyes leave Quinn's as they travel to the floor. "I'd never forget about you," she whispers softly. "Did you…did you sleep with her?" she asks in a small voice.
Her shoulders slump in an unconscious display of sympathy for how small and fragile Rachel sounds. "No," she answers. "No –I…Rachel, I promise I didn't."
"Quinn, please don't lie to me."
"I'm not!" she yells back, wanting to pull her hair out in frustration. She settles for pushing it back from her face. "I didn't do anything with her, Rachel. I swear to you. I told you I wouldn't lie to you about things like that."
Rachel nods her head, feeling tears in her eyes. "Then why did you just stand there and let her touch you while I was watching you? Her hands were all over you and you did nothing to stop her!"
"I was angry! I thought you were leaving me and I had nothing to lose! But Rachel, the second you left I was stumbling all over the place trying to get my coat and to tell Santana and Brittany that I was leaving. And then I walked back here. It just…it just took longer because I was drunk and stupid and couldn't find my way."
Rachel's mind instantly flies back to how relieved and happy she was to have Quinn stumble through her door step the night before, no matter how upset she was at the time and still is she was just happy that she was safe.
"But none of that seems to matter," she mumbles. "You're still leaving." Her voice hitches and Rachel steps closer to comfort her.
Quinn shakes her head, backing away from Rachel's outstretched hand. Her hand curls into itself as it falls limply her side and Rachel backs away to put the distance that Quinn obviously wants between them. "Quinn, you don't understand wh—"
"Why are you leaving?" she asks. "Is it because Schuester kicked you out of his stupid play? Move. On. Rachel. There are hundreds of plays in New York alone that are written every day for you to star in. Hell you're the one that wants Broadway so badly. You aren't going to get it in California."
Rachel runs her hands through hair, frustrated with Quinn's almost condescending tone of voice. "My mother is in California, if you must know. You know? My mother? The one that I've never had a chance to know? The one that's made it big in California and wants to share some of her wealth with her daughter? That mother!"
"Oh, I don't know that mother," she growls. "The mother I know of you having gave her own daughter up for adoption because she wanted to make a name for herself and couldn't possibly deal with the struggle of taking care of the life that she created."
Everything seems to stop as Quinn's words soak in. Rachel inhales a sharp breath, her heart shattering at words that she wasn't prepared to hear. "Get out," she whispers. "Just leave. Please."
Quinn's breath hitches at the quiet command. They stand there for a few moments more, both silently begging the other to say something. When Rachel doesn't say anything further Quinn just spins on her heel, heading towards the bedroom. She grabs her dress and fumbles to put it on as quickly as possible, changing her shoes and heading towards the apartment door.
She passes by the kitchen to see Rachel standing there, arms wrapped tightly around her middle as she stares at the floor.
"She's using you, Rachel."
Rachel doesn't look up at her and Quinn just walks out of the door, slamming it loudly behind her.
Once the door is closed Rachel sinks down to the floor, allowing her tears to fall freely.
"Same dress as last night, Q? You haven't done the walk of shame in a while," Santana drawls from the couch with her arms full of Brittany.
Quinn storms through the apartment angrily, ignoring Santana's comment and bypassing the couple making out on the couch without a word as she walks into her room and slams the door. She's never felt like this before. It's a trend she's realized over the entire course of dating Rachel. Rachel's always managed to make her feel things she's never felt before but they were normally positive and sometimes embarrassing emotions. But what she's feeling now; sadness, despair, anger, these aren't feelings that she's ever experienced while being with Rachel.
Deciding to be a little more proactive in her sulking, she decides to take a much needed shower. She reaches into her closet to pull out the pink, plushy towel Rachel bought for her. Her girlfr –Rachel had told her about a month ago that Quinn's bathroom towels of choice did not have the optimum thread count to properly dry off the traitorous water molecules on her body. And that was probably the reason why she contracted such infectious illness, like mono for example.
She showers and towels dry, regret sinking in about how she left things with Rachel as she uses the towel that the brunette gave her to dry off. Simple things like how soft, feminine, and how good the towel smells remind her of Rachel.
When she walks into the room she finds Santana and Brittany looking back at her from their place on her bed. She chooses not to greet them, dropping her towel and getting dressed as if she's the only one in the room. And she really, really wants to be.
"Gross, Q. If I wanted to see a flat ass and saggy tits, I'd ask someone's grandmother to strip."
"That's not nice, San. Or true. Quinn has a really nice ass 'cause of squats and her breasts are really perky."
"Whatever. Stop checking her out, B."
She grits her teeth, trying not to say anything scathing. Her eyes prick with tears and she almost wants to stomp her foot with the absurdity of it all. How unfair everything is. Santana cheats on Brittany left and right and yet when she came in from what she can only assume is breaking up with Rachel, she finds the two of them curled up on the couch like everything is just so fucking perfect.
Her thoughts fly back to Rachel crying. Tears of sadness and hurt falling down her cheeks. Quinn feels sick. If it's one thing she's come to hate in such a short amount of time, it's not only Rachel crying, but her being the cause of Rachel's tears.
"You gonna put some clothes on soon or—"
"Shut up!" She growls as she spins around to face them both. "Shut up and get out, Santana. I don't even want to see your face right now."
Santana stands slowly, a retort on her tongue, but Brittany stands up with her and places a placating hand on her arm. "San, can you go order us a pizza with lots and lots of cheese," she asks pleadingly. And even though she knows she's being played she can't help but oblige. "If I hear you in here yelling at my girl I won't hesitate to kick your ass, Quinn."
She ignores her roommate's threat as she buttons her jeans before pulling her white, cotton shirt over her head. Today doesn't feel like the type of day to play dress up. She offers Brittany a disarming smile before sitting down on her bed, the taller blonde following soon after.
Brittany immediately wraps her up in a tight hug and for the first time in the past couple of hours Quinn just breathes. A shuddery breath that borders on painful, but she hugs her back, refusing to cry another tear.
"I think it's over, Britt," she whispers. "I'm such an asshole."
Brittany just hugs her tighter while gently rocking her back and forth.
Rachel slides out of bed when she hears a loud knock. Having peeled herself from the tiled floors of her kitchen a half hour ago, she was content to spend the day moping in her bed, maybe eating vegan ice cream and watching Funny Girl if she was feeling up to it later. Her hope that it's Quinn on her doorstep and that the blonde has come back so that they can both apologize and forgive each other is short lived when she finds both of her parents at the door.
"Hi dad…daddy." Her head tilts to the side in confusion as she leans heavily against her wooden door. "Not that I am not happy to see you, ecstatic even, but…what are you doing here?"
Leroy and Hiram share a smile at their daughter's puffy eyes, red nose, and slightly disheveled appearance. "Well your father told me that you called him last night crying over the phone about your girlfriend. What kind of father would I be if I didn't come here to take care of my baby?"
Rachel spares Leroy a dirty look at his betrayal. One he deflects by his refusal to look at her. "Anyway," Hiram says exaggeratedly, focusing his husband and daughter's attention back on him. "Since it's only a four hour drive—"
"Only," Leroy scoffs quietly. "You weren't the one that had to make the drive."
"—We decided to make the trip down here to see you, sweetheart," he finishes, successfully ignoring his husband. "We're worried about you."
Her father's concerned face tears through her and before she knows it she's shuffling aside to let them in. They both pull her into a big hug and Hiram gently wipes the tears from her eyes as Leroy places a kiss atop her head. She pulls back, clearing her throat and gathering her bearings as she leads her fathers to the living room. They all sit down and Leroy and Hiram wait in the tense silence for Rachel to speak.
"She was right," she whispers with a small shrug of her shoulders. "She was an arrogant pig head. But she was right."
"I was right," Quinn insists as she stares into Brittany's clear blue eyes. "Her mother is using her and I just know it. And when I told her that, she told me to get out." She tosses her arms up in frustration. "She kicked me out, B."
Brittany watches Quinn pace back and forth in front of her. They had begun talking and the shorter blonde had gotten so riled up that she chose to pace the room instead, needing to do something other than just sit around and talk about her feelings. "I don't know anything about the situation," Brittany admits as her eyes track Quinn's pacing. "But maybe you talking about her mother hurt Rachel's feelings. People like their mothers, Quinn."
"But her mother doesn't care for her!" Quinn yells. "Not like I do!"
Moments later Santana is bursting through Quinn's door. "What the hell did I tell you about yelling at her?"
"San, calm down."
"This is not happening to me right now. You wanna fucking go, Santana?" Quinn asks as she swiftly closes in on her roommate. "Because just like you said to me a few days ago I don't have anything to lose right now."
"Don't test me, Quinn, because I'll knock you right through this fucking—"
"Both of you stop it!"
Brittany quickly moves to stand between the two before they're able to tear each other's throats out. "You've both been friends for a really, really long time. Don't fight over this. Over nothing." She turns to Santana with a weary expression. "San, Quinn is really going through a lot right now. Either sit in here with us to help or go outside and eat the pizza."
Quinn exhales loudly as her shoulders slump. Adrenaline gone, she sits heavily on her bed, her chin resting in her hand. If Rachel ever forgives her for the way she talked to her, Quinn would count it as a miracle. She wouldn't even forgive herself in she was in Rachel's shoes. Brittany gives Santana a gentle nudge and they both walk to the bed, sitting on either side of Quinn.
"Are you going to let her leave, Q?" Santana asks. "Because the Quinn I know wouldn't give up on anything without a fight. If she wants something she gets it. No questions asked."
"Yeah, well Rachel's determined. If she wants California then she's going to get it. Besides, after the way I treated her, she doesn't want me," she replies, feeling wholly defeated.
Santana nods, before placing a hand on Quinn's shoulder. "Say goodbye? And apologize?" she offers. "I mean, not that that type of stuff matters to me." Brittany flashes her a wounded look. Santana's jaw clenches as her eyes flit from Brittany's back to Quinn. "But you're a pansy ass so you're the type to want a final goodbye and shit like that. And I'm sure Berry would appreciate the apology."
She smiles a little. "I guess I could do that. I owe her that much."
Brittany gives her a heartfelt hug before rising from the bed. "I guess I'll see you two later," she mumbles.
Santana's up like a shot, rounding the corner as she hears the door to her apartment close with finality. "B, wait!"
"I told her that this would be great for us. And that we'll finally get the chance to be a family." She sniffs slightly as she recalls her conversation with her mother over the phone earlier. "She said…she said that's not really what she's looking for. She already has a family. A loving husband and a daughter. And she loves me. She loves me very much. But that my being on the show would strictly be a professional matter. The press can't find out about her illegitimate daughter."
"I never liked her."
"Hiram, honey, calm down—"
"I will not calm down!"
The two men share a look as Rachel dabs her eyes with the tissue. Hiram instantly calms after looking at his husband, understanding that he needs to put his own feelings about Shelby aside to support his daughter in her time of need. "I'm sorry this had to happen to you, honey," he says sincerely as he strokes Rachel's hair.
"Rachel, you know we love you more than anything, honey," Hiram begins. A crumpled up tissues is held tightly in Rachel's grip as she prepares for the one thing she hates the most. Being told she's wrong. "But I agree with Quinn. I don't like the way she treated you and if I ever see her she's getting a stern talking to," he says coldly. "But she is right about your mother. We're all able to look at the situation objectively. And from our points of view, if you fly to California with your heart on your sleeve then it'll get crushed, sweetheart."
"Your mother loves you," Leroy promises, glaring mildly at his husband's grumbled, "Well, that's questionable."
"But I agree with your father for agreeing with Quinn."
"Does anyone agree with me?" Rachel asks bitterly. She knows that Quinn was right and that although her mother loves her, Rachel's pretty positive that the only reason she wants her to star in her show is so the ratings can go through the roof. Not so that she can catch up on lost time with her daughter.
"Uh…" Leroy begins. "I agree with your enthusiasm to get to know your mother?" he tries. Rachel turns to stare at him blankly. "It's just that…you don't want to star in TV show, Rachel. You want Broadway. You want to act and sing. And you also need to finish school. I know you want your mother but I think that if she really wanted to be in your life then she would have at least flown here once to see you. Has she done that?"
"And we're not ganging up on you," he continues warmly, knowing how sensitive his daughter can be when she's told she's wrong. "We just want what's best for you."
"And we don't want to see you get hurt," Hiram adds.
She opens her mouth to somehow formulate some kind of protest but a firm knock at the door stops her. "Did you invite grandma too?" she asks Leroy as he gets up to open the door.
"Don't be silly," he jokes lightly. "I'd never call Hiram's mother."
He peers through the tiny peephole. "Hey, Rach. There's a blonde outside your door. Could it be Quinn?"
Rachel's head perks up, whirling around to face her father with wide eyes. "Is it her?" she whispers.
"I don't know," he teases. He looks through the peep hole again. "It could be."
"Daddy, open the door before she leaves," she whines in return.
He unlocks the door –not nearly as hasty as Rachel would like— before opening it. The blonde in front of him looks just as disheveled as his daughter does and he offers her a sympathetic smile. "Hi, I'm Leroy, Rachel's father. You must be Quinn."
She gently takes his offered hand into her own, surprising him with a firm handshake. "Yes, sir," she says with a shaky voice. "I –It's nice to meet you, sir." Leroy gently pulls on the hand in his grip until Quinn is wrapped up in his arms.
"Don't worry, I won't stand here and berate you for making my daughter cry." Quinn's shoulders instantly slump as she relaxes in his arms. "However, I can't promise the same about my husband." Leroy leans down to whisper conspiringly. "He's the tough one."
She gulps loudly and Leroy's laugh is just as loud. He pulls back to wrap a supporting arm around Quinn's shoulder. "I'm joking, honey. My husband couldn't hurt a fly."
"I heard that!"
He leads her into the living room where Rachel and Hiram are and Quinn's eyes find Rachel like a heat seeking missile. She doesn't even notice when Leroy releases his hold on her to sit down on the couch. Her steps stutter as she walks toward Rachel slowly, an array of emotions swirling inside of her. She comes to stop in front of the coffee table, the only physical obstacle standing between her and the pair of dark, puffy eyes staring intensely back at her.
"Quinn, this is my husband Hiram," Rachel hears Leroy say in an attempt to break the ice. Her eyes roam over the blonde in front of her. Her tense posture under her form fitting jeans and t-shirt, her arms folded tightly across her middle as a defense mechanism, her stormy, hazel eyes, slightly puffy just like Rachel imagines her own are. She inhales a shaky breath, being hit full force with the emotions she felt hours ago as Quinn reaches across the table to shake her father's hand.
"I –I'm Quinn," she says numbly, chastising herself moments later for the slip up.
"Yes, I know dear," he says. "You're the woman that made my daughter cry."
Rachel cuts him a sharp look as Quinn bows her head in shame. "Yes, sir. I actually came to apologize."
"Oh, you did, did you?" he replies sarcastically. "Yes, an apology will make it all better."
Quinn stiffens in front of the three pairs of eyes on her. Never having been in a situation quite like this before, she chooses silence, clasping her hands demurely in front of her. She feels very much like a child being scolded. And at the age of twenty, the feeling is kind of foreign to her. Her heart thuds against her chest as blood rushes to her ears. She takes her bottom lip between her teeth as she tries to think of something, anything to say. "The way I've treated her the past few days was wrong," she whispers, losing all bravado. "I was condescending, scathing, and just rude. I let my feelings control my actions as well as my mouth and I hurt the one person I care about most."
She finally gathers the courage to look up, her misty hazel eyes meeting Rachel first before sliding to Leroy, then Hiram. "I love your daughter, sir," she says firmly. "I may not have shown it the best way I know how over the past few days, but I've never cared for anyone else as much as I care for her. I –I need her."
Rachel's eyes widen at the bold claim. She opens her mouth to speak but Quinn continues.
"But I'll let her go if she wants to move to California. All I want to do is say I'm sorry. I just want her to forgive me because I can't handle her being angry or upset with me."
"Fathers, may Quinn and I have a moment alone?" Rachel asks, cutting Quinn off from saying anything further. Her head feels like it's spinning. Hiram looks affronted as Leroy gracefully lifts to his feet. Quinn can tell where Rachel got her grace from. "Come on, honey," Leroy drawls, grabbing his husband's hand before he has a chance to protest. "We'll be on the stoop outside, Rachel. Try not to leave us out there too long or we'll find another daughter to latch on to," he jokes as he pulls his reluctant husband out of the door, closing it tightly.
Quinn licks her lips nervously as she shuffles around the table to sit beside Rachel. "I just have a few things to say and then I'll be out of your hair, okay?"
Rachel nods, her heart being gripped in despair with the knowledge that this is probably the last conversation she'll have with Quinn.
"Okay," she sighs. "First, I want to start off my saying I love you. And that—"
"I love you too, Quinn," Rachel whispers, meeting Quinn's eyes. "I love you so much."
Quinn nods with a small smile. "And because I love you, I want what's best for you." She reaches out and takes Rachel's hand between her own, watching intently as Rachel intertwines their fingers. "And I…I'm known to be selfish. I take what I want and I hold it near and dear to me and I never let it go. But I can't do that with you. I can't do that to you."
Rachel watches with awe as Quinn's face slowly crumbles, her bottom lip quivering and her eyes welling with tears. "I stand by what I say, Rachel. I love you more than your mother does and I know that for a fact. But if you want the chance to have a functioning relationship with her and if you want that TV show then I won't stand in your way."
She leans forward to kiss Rachel softly. Rachel inhales sharply against the tears she feels on her lips. Her hands release Quinn's own to tangle in her hair as she scoots closer to the blonde. Body incredibly starved for contact, she presses as tightly against Quinn as she possibly can, her chest heaving against the blonde's with each ragged breath. She cries. She cries for every tear she's shed over the situation, every time she's had to watch hurt blossom on Quinn's beautiful face, for the scene she walked in on in the kitchen at the party, for the letter she got from her mother that started this whole situation.
Quinn pulls away, panting heavily into the air. Her forehead falls gently against Rachel's as timid hands cup her cheeks, wiping tear after tear away. "I'll let you go," Quinn sobs, even as her arms wrap around Rachel's waist and tugs her closer. "I don't want to. But if you want to move to California, I'll let you go."
"I don't want to leave," Rachel begs. Her arms wrap around Quinn's neck as she burrows her face into her shoulder.
"But I thought—"
Rachel tightens her hold around Quinn. "I love you, Quinn." She pulls back to place kisses along the blonde's face before looking her in the eye. "I –the night of the party I called Mercedes and Kurt over to consult with them about the predicament of whether or not to stay or move to California."
Quinn's face darkens at the knowledge that there were even more people that knew about Rachel moving than she did. Rachel continues before the blonde could voice her upset. "I had asked them to help me choose what to do and neither of them had an answer. But Kurt gave me some pretty good advice." She licks a tear from her lip before continuing. "He told me to choose which one I can't live without."
Her brow furrows in confusion. "Rachel, I don't understand where this is going. Please, just tell me."
"It's you, Quinn." Rachel smiles softly at her. "I've arguably been without my mother for twenty-one years and I have gotten along just fine. But I…" Her heart starts to thud in her chest as the weight of this moment finally comes crashing down around her. She can only hope that she won't scare the blonde away. Rachel knows that she feels things too intensely and that it can be intimidating for others. Just like that time in choir when the solo for I'm the Greatest Star went to a girl not named Rachel Berry. Rachel isn't proud to say that she paid a delinquent to place a boot on the girl's car in order for her to miss her chance to perform the solo, thus having the song go to Rachel. But drastic measures had to be taken.
"I love you," she says softly. "And although I can go the rest of my life without having my mother being a part of it, I can't nor do I want to imagine being without you."
The words don't register right away but Rachel can tell the moment when they do. Quinn's jaw drops and her eyes widen, with this sort of faraway expression in them. Quinn's mind is fried. Rachel wants to be with her. Rachel isn't moving. Rachel wants to be with her. And Quinn doesn't want to get ahead of herself but she's sure Rachel's little speech had the undertone of a lifetime commitment tagged onto the end.
"You…" Rachel breathes a sigh of relief when Quinn's eyes refocus, having thought for a moment that the blonde had had a stroke. "You want to be with me?" Her entire face softens with aching vulnerability and Rachel thinks she's just fallen in love all over again.
She nods enthusiastically. "I do. I really do. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that I made you feel like you weren't enough or that I don't care about you. I just—"
"That's your mother. I get it. People like their mothers," she blushes a little, unconsciously mimicking Brittany's earlier words. "And I'm sorry, really. The way that I acted, everything I've said to you. It was childish and uncalled for."
Rachel nods her forgiveness before biting her bottom lip nervously. "I want to be with you, Quinn. I –if you'll still have me."
"Are you kidding me?" Quinn leans forward and wraps her arms around Rachel, sighing contentedly when Rachel returns the hug. "Of course I'll still have you." Her arms tighten around her girlfriend. "You're mine," she growls lightly and Rachel giggles at how light and free they are together once more.
Quinn pulls back to brush Rachel's hair behind her ear. Their lips meet softly, lovingly as their hearts repair themselves. Rachel's hands roam freely over the expanse of Quinn's body as if to reclaim her from that brief stint of their disconnectedness. When Quinn's lips pull away from her own to nip down the side of her neck she suspects the blonde's doing the same.
"Do you think we can just stay here and do this all day?" Quinn rasps against Rachel's soft skin. She traces her collarbone with the tip of her tongue, reveling in the low groan that leaves her girlfriend's pouty lips.
"I don't think so," Rachel replies. "Dad is very determined. And although I'm certain that daddy wants to leave, they'll dutifully stand outside until I come down to tell them everything is okay."
Quinn nods as she slows down her ministrations, trying to calm the fire inside of her. She rests her head in the crook of Rachel's neck as she regulates her breathing. "I guess we can all go out to dinner. My treat?" she offers. "I mean, this is my first time meeting your fathers and I've already made a shitty impression by making you cry. I know for a fact that Hiram doesn't like me already."
"Language," Rachel admonishes as Quinn pulls back to look at her. She smiles fondly at the blonde, grabbing her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "But I would very much like that. And I have the utmost confidence in your ability to win dad over."
Quinn smiles back in relief at the pieces of normalcy already falling back into place in their relationship. She stands from the couch, tugging Rachel with her. "So is everyone on this little excursion vegan but me?"
Rachel nods with a grin. "I hope that won't be an inconvenience."
"Great," Quinn groans wryly. "So no steak for me tonight."
She's comforted by Rachel's warm fingers laced between her own as they hop down the stairs to meet her parents. And suddenly, not getting to enjoy a steak doesn't seem too bad in comparison to enjoying Rachel's company.