"Hey Rach?"
Quinn toyed with damp brown locks as the two women lay in bed. Normally after so many rounds of lovemaking in the creaky, neighbor-attention-grabbing bed, she was content to drift off to the lullaby of her wife's heartbeat. But as the sweat cooled on their skin and Rachel's breathing calmed, Quinn had something on her mind.
She nudged her nonresponsive wife and tried again. "Rachel?"
A kiss fell to the top of her head. "Hmmm?"
Quinn wrapped her finger in a length of the frizzing curls and took a steadying breath. They'd never really talked about it seriously. They'd always been too engrossed in each other to give it any real thought, but the idea was there constantly there, niggling at the far corner of her brain.
"What would you think about having a baby?"
Rachel tensed and Quinn was sure the steady thump beneath her ear actually stopped before kicking back in double time. Although Rachel did not have a cardiac arrhythmia, it was nonetheless what the doctor heard.
"A baby?" Rachel squeaked out.
It wasn't a good squeak, either.
It was the same frightened sound Santana made around garden gnomes. To her, Gnomeo & Juliet was equally as scary as The Exorcist was to an impressionable, twelve-year-old, Catholic Quinn of the sixth grade. Convincing Santana to be Rachel's Maid of Honor was nothing in comparison to the lengths the diva had gone to get the stubborn law student to sit down and watch that film (along with the entire David the Gnome television series). It was always fascinating to see her melt the cold heart of the ex-Cheerio, and coerce Santana into doing whatever the actress wanted because for some weird reason, Santana had done a complete 180° spin from their teen years and just couldn't tell Rachel "no" anymore. And Quinn had heard enough of this same kind of terrified whining from that movie night to know exactly how petrified Rachel was right now.
Quinn swallowed down her disappointment. "Never mind."
Because of the horrendous mess she'd created in everyone's lives during her senior year and the deranged plan she had to get Beth back, she'd been ignoring the nagging tick of her biological clock for some time now. Nature's timer began its booming countdown shortly after the blonde's twenty-first birthday. And after two years of marriage, the sound was deafening.
A warm palm fell to her cheek and angled her face toward Rachel's. The fear in her eyes pulled at Quinn's stomach. "You're serious, I presume?"
She felt sick. She felt ashamed for wanting a baby. It was selfish, especially with the state of the world today. But that didn't change the yearning to hold a child in her arms — a child with Rachel's eyes and smile. She was so in love with her wife and couldn't wait to fall in love with an extension of her. She wanted that infectious laugh in stereo and two sets of eyes rolling at her whenever she said something dumb or inappropriate. She wanted two bodies worth of hugs and two hearts worth of love that would unconditionally own hers forever. She wanted a family.
"Forget about it." Jesus, that hurt to say. "We should sleep. You have rehearsal in the morning."
"Precisely. And you have a double at the hospital tomorrow." The chest under Quinn's head rose and fell with a heavy sigh. "We aren't in any position to have a baby right now, Quinn. We're both working nonstop. My current contract is for two years, and you're starting that research project with Jonas soon."
"Jonah." The correction was purely reflex.
Dr. Saulke had quickly become the father to her Russell refused to be. On recommendations from a number of her professors and supervisors, Jonah sought her out during her rounds one night at Harlem Hospital Center and propositioned her with a place on his team. Virology never occurred to her in med school, but apparently her two undergrad degrees and current residency in pediatrics was perfect for the field: it seemed many virologists chose that path in order to eradicate childhood diseases. And she'd seen enough HIV Positive kids in her short time in medicine that she jumped at the chance to help find a cure. Those were the cases that got to her the most and she had no idea why. What was she thinking of adding another tiny person to the global population when there were so many kids all over the world that needed tending?
"You're right. We aren't ready for a baby."
And she was. Rachel was so right. Quinn had wanted a real family all her life and now it was within reach, but Rachel was doing the right thing by smacking that dream from her grasp. It was stupid. She'd messed up her chance with Beth and eventually left well-enough alone, making the choice to give her daughter a better life even though it wasn't with her. She was wrong for thinking she deserved to have another shot at motherhood.
There was quiet for a while and she assumed the brunette fell asleep. One more thing she was wrong about.
"How long have you been thinking about this?"
Since their first date. Since the first time they said "I love you" and Quinn discovered how to speak those words without lying. Since Rachel accepted her marriage proposal. Since their wedding day. And every single time the admittedly self-absorbed diva would glance up at Quinn from her newest script or cup of coffee, or smile from across a room or hold her hand on the subway, looking at the blonde as if she were the only person on the planet.
"Not long."
"Liar."
Quinn wanted to smile at how well Rachel knew her. Instead she bit her lip and continued playing with her wife's hair. Her wife. That would never get old. The girl she'd tortured and tried so hard to make hate her in the past was the most important thing in the world to her, and she couldn't ask for anything more.
And she wasn't. Not really. Having a child together wouldn't be more, it'd be…expanding.
Rachel wiggled lower until the two women were eye to eye, secure in each other's arms. This was enough, she thought. Rachel was enough—more than.
"You've planned this, haven't you?"
It wasn't an accusation, but the sincere interest she heard was obviously imagined. Yet, it was the trigger she needed to spew her entire blueprint for constructing their family.
"I'd carry it," she blurted. "We'd pick a donor and use your eggs—or from both of us if you wanted—and I'd carry it and be big and fat and gross and smelly and miserable all over again because I want more than anything to have a baby with you.
Word vomit, everywhere, and almost all in one breath.
"You'd stay on Broadway and I'd ask Jonah to assign me to lit reviews and documentation instead of lab work. I'm the newbie and he already has so many experienced doctors on his team I'm sure it wouldn't be a problem." Quinn couldn't believe how pitiful she sounded. Truthfully, she didn't know if he would actually do that for her. However, Dr. Fabray was prepared to let that particular career defining opportunity slip away and stay a lowly pediatrician as originally planned if it meant having her family.
Rachel tucked mussed blonde hair behind Quinn's ear. "But for how long, Quinn?"
"Um, nine months. That's generally how long it takes a typical human fetus to gestate." The longest nine months of any mother's life, but still only nine months.
The wide smile she worshiped honored her with a brief appearance before vanishing into the darkness of their apartment. "I meant about work, baby. Pregnancy, then birth, then raising it? It's more than nine months, Quinn. It's years. We've barely begun our life together. I just don't think we're ready."
Petition denied. That was that.
Distraught beyond the telling of it, Quinn put on a brave face but the sorrow in her voice betrayed her. "It was a dumb idea. Things are good the way they are."
It was true. But good could always be better.
Rachel's hold tightened, preventing Quinn from rolling over to hide the tears she had no hope of stopping. "Saying we're not ready isn't the same as saying no forever."
Not saying no didn't mean yes, either.
"I know we haven't discussed it much, but I do want a family with you," Rachel whispered, stroking along Quinn's cheek. "I want a hazel-eyed child running underfoot and making a mess in the kitchen while helping me fix you breakfast in bed on your birthday or our anniversary. I want sunny days pushing a stroller through Central Park. I want us on the beach at Coney Island with another set of footprints between ours in the wet sand along the shoreline."
Openly crying now, the blonde turned enough to kiss her wife's palm. "But?"
"I didn't think it'd be so soon, is all." Rachel pulled Quinn closer, tucking the taller woman's head beneath her chin. Most people wouldn't think the usually serious-minded M.D. would enjoy being held like this, but so often Quinn's world only made sense when she was wrapped up in Rachel's arms. "My original plan was to lose my virginity at the age of twenty-five on a bed of rose petals surrounded by warm candlelight. And to a boy. Of the husband variety. Not as a teenager in the backseat of a car."
Quinn's smug chuckle was countered with a thwack to her shoulder.
"Hush it." Rachel's hand absently soothed away the sting it created. "My point is, having a child wasn't factored in as a possibility until much later."
"If we were older, like thirty or something, would this even be in question?"
Brown eyes looked away and Quinn had her answer. She wanted to jump up and find the bedazzled pink binder and see if having children was really factored in at all or if Rachel was just placating her right now. Her stomach twisted to think of all the times she'd casually brought it up and Rachel merely nodded or shrugged and said things like "someday" or "I suppose". How had they gotten so far together and not explored the possibility that children may not be in store for them? The doctor blamed her own insecurities from the Beth/Shelby debacle of her senior year. She should have been brave enough to bring it up sooner. Like before they got married.
"Why, Rach?"
"I never had a mother," she said.
They were nose to nose and the taller woman still had to strain to hear it. But once again, Shelby Corcoran had inadvertently fucked up Quinn's life. That woman should have never come back to Ohio after giving birth to Rachel. It would have spared all of them so much pain if Shelby had just stayed anonymous and gone.
"I wouldn't know where to begin, how to be one. What if I screw up?" Rachel had never sounded so insecure.
Quinn propped up on her elbow and traced her wife's face, taking care to caress those sexy beauty marks on either cheek before trailing along that strong, determined jawline. "You don't think I'm scared, too? Parenting doesn't come with a manual, baby, but your dads are amazing examples. And yeah, it'll be terrifying at times, but we'll figure it out. Together."
"Need I point out that you've spent the last few years with kids day in and day out? It's quite literally your job to know what they need and how to take care of them."
"I know how to take care of their bodies, Rachel. That doesn't mean I know how to discipline them, or make them put on pajamas and brush their teeth," she teased, running a finger down the slope of her wife's nose.
Thick, kohl black eyelashes fluttered and Quinn dotted a single kiss to each closed eyelid. Her fingertip followed the curve of dark brows then back to the adorable ears that Rachel had thankfully grown in to. She remembered how big the brunette's ears had been on her small body during the transition from child to adolescent. Then she remembered the name calling: goblin, troll and Dumbo were the most common ones.
Guilt pervaded every individual thought and each firing synapse. She'd been a horrible person all in the name of pleasing others and distancing herself from the girl who made her belly flicker with a strange fire she didn't understand and couldn't afford to explore when they were younger. Rachel still made her feel that way, but now Quinn knew exactly what it was. Love. Love beyond all words in every language. Rachel was her everything, and Quinn wanted to give her everything she could. And, having done it before, she knew that a baby was probably the best thing she could ever offer the goddess lying next to her. If Rachel refused, what else did Quinn have that would be good enough for her?
"Quinn?" All deliberations of her own inadequacy were disrupted as Rachel called her to attention and studied the blonde thoroughly. She wasn't biting her lip. Her forehead was free of worry lines. And her eyes were hard, but clear.
Quinn wasn't sure when she'd felt more naked. Probably that night in the back of her car—before they'd taken off their clothes. Or maybe their wedding night.
"You really think we could do it?"
Her answer was immediate. "Yes." Then Quinn gave a sheepish smile and brushed her thumb over Rachel's lips. "I don't know the right way to teach them life lessons or how to be a good person. I was so weak growing up, baby. I was an awful person. I did what everyone else told me to, tried to be who they wanted me to be, and hurt so, so many people in the process. Especially you."
Rachel's eyes softened and the doctor knew she was on the verge of objecting, but she had to get through this.
"I won't be able to teach them how to be strong or to never give up or be proud of who they are no matter what. Not like you can. Like how you're still teaching me."
Tender hands found her cheeks and wiped away the tears that Quinn begged to be gone. "Luce?"
The blonde blinked. "Yeah?" It was the profoundly rare occasion Rachel called her that.
Rachel inhaled deeply as if summoning her courage, but the vulnerability in her eyes made Quinn all the more nervous. "Have my baby?"
Joy. Happiness. Jubilance. Exultation of the highest degree inflated Quinn's soul and she kissed her wife with every ounce of love she had, promising her heart, mind and body to the brunette all over again. It lasted until their lungs seized, and she pulled back just enough for air, keeping her lips in contact with Rachel's.
"Yes! All of them. I'll have as many of your babies as you want." She rolled on top of Rachel, laughing and crying and kissing all at once, anxious to show this woman just how much she loved her and how committed to their family she already was.
"Wait. Babies?" Rachel groaned as a slick tongue worked down her neck.
"Mmmhmm. Plural." The pediatrician adopted the most serious tone she could muster at the moment. "Only children are just so spoiled."
Rachel huffed and playfully tried to push her off. Quinn's laughter at those rolling eyes carried all the fear and insecurity of earlier right out of her being, and the diva pouted. "Oh you can just bite me, Fabray."
"Gladly."
Choosing to take the words at face value, Quinn waggled her eyebrows and obliged tenfold; the gasps that followed sent them both reeling. Long moments passed while their hands found all the right places as though discovering them for the first time. There was skin and heat and connection in a way they'd never known before. But they were there, together—fingers thrusting, lips kissing and teasing—loving each other over and over.
When Rachel finally screamed into Quinn's mouth, the blonde whimpered in surrender and knew their simultaneous ending that night was merely their beginning.