Title: Converge

Pairing: Quinn Fabray/Rachel Berry

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. Just having a little fun.

Summary: AU. Future fic. Rachel and Quinn used to date long ago but were forced to break up. Now Quinn works in the A&R department at a very successful record company. A new artist walks in hoping to get signed and changes Quinn's world. Previous and eventual R/Q.

A/N: I had some time off yesterday and today to edit the next three chapters. So, eleven, twelve and thirteen are being posted now. And I'm hoping to post the fourteenth (final chapter) either tonight or tomorrow.


Quinn presses Rachel against her mattress quickly as she places a sloppy kiss to her lips. Her hands fist against the pillows on either side of Rachel's head as her tongue slides into her mouth. Rachel is leaving in less than a week and Quinn can't really find the words to articulate her feelings. 'I love you' just doesn't seem like enough.

"I leave in five days," Rachel says conversationally once Quinn's tongue leaves from within her throat. Her departure is something she's been constantly thinking about since she was informed she was going on tour. Her legs wrap around a slim waist when Quinn settles between them. Her mind swirls and is a bit useless because this is Quinn Fabray, the woman her tattoo is dedicated to, between her eager thighs. She's never been more excited about the possibility of sex and she hopes it never ends.

Nipping at her neck, Quinn roughly runs her hand up a leg wrapped around her waist. "I know."

Rachel's blood runs cold at the equally chilling tone of voice Quinn uses. It sounds as if Quinn isn't doing this because she enjoys it. It sounds like she's forcing herself to do it. Rachel stiffens as pink lips continue to press against her neck, the slow and steady rock of Quinn's hips still managing to create fire in the pit of her stomach. What's left of her mind wars with her body as she gently pushes Quinn away.

"You're not ready."

Either the words don't resister or Quinn isn't listening. Her hand reaches under Rachel's skirt and cups her gently. Rachel's sigh sounds more like a moan as her back arches.

"Quinn, you're not ready," she tries again.

"You are," Quinn replies, not meeting swiftly darkening brown eyes.

Rachel flushes at the accusation. It's true. She's really ready. "Yes. But you aren't. And I can wait."

"You shouldn't have to."

When her fingers slip just inside pink panties, Rachel pushes harder, forcing them both into a sitting position.

It's quiet for a moment. The only sound being Rachel's uneven breathing. She smoothes out her skirt and combs a hand through her hair, trying to get a handle on her hormones. Closing her eyes, she breathes in deeply. Her body is craving Quinn's touch, already knowing how firm and passionate she can be. But her mind is telling her that now really isn't the time.

Her voice is scratchy and she watches Quinn shiver when she calls her name.

"Rachel, I want this." Her rumbling voice makes Rachel throb.

"As do I."

She exhales softly, not surprised, but still relieved. "Then what's the problem?"

"You're not ready."

Quinn turns to her, pupils dilated as she stares at the bed sheets, hair mussed. Her eyes narrow at the insinuation. But it's true. She's not ready for what she's trying to push herself and Rachel into. That doesn't mean she likes to hear it, though. "That's not your call to make."

"It is when you can't look at me while you're touching me," she responds evenly. "Or even right now."

Quinn recoils, caught off guard. She hadn't even noticed that she wasn't making eye contact with Rachel. Her eyes slowly lift to Rachel's own and she stares into them attentively. She takes in Rachel's obvious arousal. The same arousal she's sure is reflected in her own eyes along with the love she sees in brown eyes as well.

"Rach, it's not like that. I want you."

Rachel smiles, more at Quinn's casual use of her nickname than the reassuring words she's using.

"I understand that, Quinn," she replies, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "And it should be noted that I am turned on right now by your forwardness. However, I really think we should wait."

She releases the tension from her body, knowing that there's nothing she can say. Rachel's right. As much as Quinn wants to make love to her, she's not ready.

"Hey," Rachel calls to her softly. "Look at me." She scoots closer, wrapping her arms around Quinn. "You have come a very long way, Quinn. Don't set yourself back by jumping into something before you're ready."

She cups her face in both hands and brings her closer, tucking blonde hair behind Quinn's ear. "I love you," she whispers before kissing her.

"I love you, too."


Emma squirts a dollop of hand sanitizer into her open palm before rubbing them together. She clears her throat and crosses her legs. "How do you feel today, Quinn?"

Picking up and plucking a piece of lent from her black skirt, Quinn folds her hands tightly in her lap, a little apprehensive. "Honestly?"

"I always find that honesty helps during therapy," Emma responds with a smile.

She gives up her prim and proper sitting posture in favor of slumping back in her seat. "I'm not having a good day. Or week for that matter."

"Care to tell me why?"

"Rachel leaves in two days."

Quinn briefly marvels at how early she's opened up to Emma about her problems. Had this session occurred a month ago, she wouldn't have admitted this until probably the last seven minutes of her session. But this time, she's only been in Emma's office for ten minutes and she's already divulged her biggest problem as of late.

"You've come a long way, Quinn," Emma responds, as if sensing where Quinn's thoughts are. Maybe she's thinking along the same lines.

"That's about the tenth person that's told me that," she grumbles with a small smile.

"You said she's going on tour, correct?" Emma asks, trying to get back on task.

Quinn's hand reaches up to smooth long, blonde hair from her eyes. Rachel's been nagging about her wearing it down instead of a ponytail, but she hasn't worn it that way for years. When she was younger, she used to pin her hair towards the side of her head to keep it from her face. But she's since fallen out of habit and forgets her hair clip nearly every morning. It frustrates her a little but Rachel likes it so she deals with it.

Once her hair is out of her face, she responds. "Yes, across the country. However, it's been cut in half because she needs to record for her next album soon. Another artist at our label, Will, has become more successful than our label planned for. He's heading back into the booth to record another album soon as well and President Sylvester wants to get Rachel into the studio first."

"How long is she going to be touring?"

"Two months."

Emma hums in acknowledgement as she writes in her notebook. She waits patiently for Quinn to continue.

"I'm scared, Emma."

Telling someone other than the two people she trusted most in the world her fears wasn't exactly ideal for Quinn. But she's come to learn that not every person she comes into contact with is bad. She's learned that there are good people in the world and Emma is one of them.

Emma smiles reassuringly. "Have you talked to Rachel about your fears?"

"We've…argued about it, yes."

Emma's expression is dubious at best and Quinn laughs. "That's just how she and I work. It's actually pretty healthy for us. I promise."

Emma can't help but smile back at her, glad to see her patient happy. However, she still scribbles down a list of pamphlets about how to better communicate with a significant other.

"We still have fifteen minutes left," she tells Quinn. "Is there anything you want to discuss?"

Quinn shifts in her seat, crossing her legs and digging the heel of her pump into the floor. "I, well…yes."

When Emma motions for her to continue, she takes a deep breath. "Rachel and I have been dating for a couple of months now and I'm getting…frustrated."

"Well then maybe your arguing isn't as healthy as you thought," Emma muses.

Pink tints normally pale cheeks as Quinn pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. Her eyes find the ceiling. "That's not the type of frustrated I mean," she says slowly. "Although, arguing does nothing but…frustrate my frustrations further."

Emma's hand freezes. She had been writing down the names of pamphlets to help Quinn with her arguing with Rachel. She slowly rips that page from her notebook, deciding that Quinn needs a completely different set of pamphlets.

"Oh…I see."

Not that Quinn would know, but Emma is still a virgin. The thought of sex—mixing sweat, spit, and fluids does not blend well with her need for cleanliness. She's not sure how helpful she can be. "Go on."

Quinn wrings her hands together in her lap. "It's not like I don't want her or anything. Because I do. I do. But I'm not sure how far I can go yet. And we went pretty far earlier this week and she told me to stop." She sighs in annoyance.

"I'm not sure how far I can go," she reiterates. "But I would like to do, I don't know, more?"

Emma's eyes are wide as she stares at Quinn. That was a lot to soak in at once and she's not sure where to even start. "I-if you need help on how to perform lesbian sex, I have a pamphlet just outside," she supplies.

Quinn chuckles enigmatically at that. "I don't need a pamphlet on that, I'm sure. I've done it enough times to know how to do it correctly."


Rachel watches from the other side of Quinn's desk as she straightens her crisp white blouse before continuing to write something that was obviously important. She eyes pale enticing collarbones briefly before looking out of a nearby window with a quiet sigh.

Quinn quirks an eyebrow inquisitively but doesn't remove her eyes from her work. "Something wrong?"

"Just tired. Grueling work hours and all," Rachel announces, hoping she sounds convincing.

"You're sold out everywhere," Quinn says warmly as she continues to work out minor kinks of Rachel's tour. "Which place are you most excited about going to?"

As if there's really any question. "I am excited about the prospect of seeing my dads again, so Lima is most anticipated."

A fond smile touches Quinn's lips. "Tell them I said hello."

She returns the smile. "I will."

It's silent then and Rachel's eyes lose focus as she tries to remember the last time she's even seen her fathers. She misses them immensely because it's been almost half of a year since she's seen them. When she arrived in LA she practically dove into her work and hasn't come up for air since.

"Quinn?"

The only indication that she has her attention is the way her hand falters briefly before she continues to write. Rachel chuckles quietly. Quinn isn't the best listener when she's working.

"I know that you've already secured the tour locations and dates and that it's already set in stone for the most part. But can Lima, Ohio please be my last stop? Although I desperately want to see my fathers I would very much appreciate it if they were the last people I see so that my memory of them can be fresh in my mind when I return—"

At this point Quinn's tuned her out. She gets the gist of it and doesn't want to subject herself to any more babble. That woman can talk.

"I think I can do that," she says simply before grabbing her phone. She dials only three numbers that Rachel guesses is an office extension before saying, "I need a favor."

Rachel watches in awe as Quinn works. She likes this serious, business side of Quinn. A lot. She likes it even more when Quinn crosses her legs and she sees a flash of her pencil skirt and black pumps under her desk.

Quinn watches Rachel watch her briefly before getting back to work. "Look," she commands into the phone to someone Rachel doesn't even know. "We're a team around this office. I've done everything else. The least you can do is switch a couple of dates around." She pauses. "Yes, I'm well aware that they've sold out. It's not like we're telling hundreds of fans per venue that we're cancelling. We're simply telling them that the concert they're attending has been moved to a different date."

Rachel watches as Quinn's shoulders pull tight, a sure sign of her annoyance growing. "You know what you need to do. Get it done."

The phone shuts with a deafening thud and Rachel's mildly amused and a little worried. "If switching the dates around will cause confusion and tension in the office—"

"It won't," Quinn says a little roughly. "That person is just a bi—"

"Quinn," she intones. She doesn't like it when Quinn swears and she's told her that on more than one occasion. "Be nice."

She smirks lightly before grabbing a paper at the far end of her desk and bringing it to her. "Being nice doesn't get me anywhere in this office."


Quinn and Rachel lie side by side on Quinn's bed; the only light in the room comes from a small lamp on a nightstand. Rachel's leaving tomorrow and she insisted that she sleep over Quinn's house.

"I'm going to miss you," she murmurs. They're lying face to face and Rachel can't help but be so smitten with Quinn right now. She runs her hand from Quinn's knee to her hips, her waist, skims her breast and smiles at the quiet sigh she's rewarded with, brushes her neck, and cups the side of her face. "I'm really going to miss you."

Being able to touch Quinn is still a new liberty that Rachel takes full advantage of. Her excuse for touching being that she can't help that she's a tactile person. But touching Quinn, being connected with her after being disconnected for so long is such a warm welcome. Every time she's able to get her hands on Quinn without her flinching away further solidifies the special bond that Rachel's sure they share.

She watches as too many emotions to decipher flashes through Quinn's eyes before she simply replies, "I'll miss you, too."

Quinn feels her heart clench. There's so much she wants to say. But that seems to be a running theme she has with Rachel. So much to say and no way to communicate it. She becomes restless again because 'I love you' can never be enough.

Quinn kisses Rachel softly as she lies halfway on top of her atop her bed. After talking to Emma about her frustrations she's calmed down, somewhat. She didn't take any lesbian sex tip pamphlets, however. And she was a little offended that Emma even offered them to her. Just because she hasn't had sex with a woman in seven years, outside of that drunken time with Rachel a few months ago, doesn't mean she's forgotten how to. Judging by the sounds Rachel made that night, Quinn thinks she remembers how to please a woman very well.

Her right hand, which had been patiently waiting on Rachel's stomach for all of five minutes, deftly slides under a beige shirt. She quickly unsnaps the front clasp of Rachel's bra, and a small cry is emitted from Rachel when she palms her breast.

The warm weight of Rachel's breast in her hand causes the familiar coiling in Quinn's stomach to return. Her hips shift forward at the thought of taking as much of the breast in her hand into her mouth as possible.

Rachel groans, back arching into Quinn's hands as she softly pinches her nipple before twisting it roughly. Her hand flies to Quinn's hip digging her fingers into her flesh, just needing to ground herself.

Quinn hisses at the pleasurable pain that shoots straight between her legs. She quickly climbs on top of Rachel, needing to be closer. "Hey," she whispers once she's hovering over the other woman with a teasing smile on her lips.

Rachel opens her eyes, having shut them around the time Quinn first pinched her nipple. And it's like a blast from the past; Quinn hovering over her with a smug grin on her face. The grin of a Cheshire. Memorable. "Quinn…"

She hums in acknowledgement before crashing her lips to Rachel's. She supports herself with one hand, the other one stroking the tattoo under Rachel's breast. She knows she's found it when she feels the body beneath her shiver. Sliding a thigh between willing legs, Quinn straddles Rachel's own, pressing down.

A long, deep moan slithers from Rachel at the first contact of Quinn, warm and wet against her thigh. Finally. The physical manifestation of the want Quinn's been denying for months is so mesmerizing. As if not believing what she's feeling, she presses harder into Quinn.

"Rachel…" Quinn whimpers against Rachel's lips as she helplessly grinds her hips against the strong muscle of her thigh. "Rachel," she moans. She feels powerless against her own arousal. All she knows at this very moment is the woman pinned beneath her.

Rachel nods, as if understanding her girlfriend's breathless cries. Gripping her hips, she roughly slides Quinn against her thigh, eyes fluttering as Quinn's head tips back. Somewhere in her mind, she knows she should be stopping this, that Quinn isn't ready. But in the span of five minutes since Quinn climbed on top of her, she's lost herself.

Quinn leans forward and buries her face in Rachel's neck licking, nipping, sucking. She's never been happier to be wearing a skirt. It's moments like this that her need for Rachel consumes her, terrifies her but sends her heart racing. "Tell me you're mine," she pants into her skin. Her knee presses up against Rachel's panties and she feels her leaking through the material. "Tell me this is for me."

Rachel's body is writhing, her bangs are sticking to her forehead and her clothes are too constricting. She can barely think, let alone respond to the heated words being spoken against her flesh. She feels even teeth dig into her skin with impatience and her hips move faster as she tries to formulate a reply. "I-I'm yours, Quinn. All yours."

"Forever."

Rachel nods her head. "Y-yes."

Quinn growls. "No." She pulls back from Rachel's neck to get a good look at her face. "Say it."

She's not sure where this is coming from. Sure, when she was younger she and Rachel promised each other forever all the time. But she's not younger now. She's an adult and has learned that some things just don't work out. But there's something so basic and primal about this moment that it only seems logical to claim Rachel, to have her forever because right here, right now Rachel is all she's ever needed.

Her eyes flutter open at the commanding tone. Rachel licks her lips as she pushes out uneven breaths. Her insides are starting to burn from a familiar fire that's never felt this hot. "Forever," she pants, breath fanning over Quinn's face.

Hips pumping faster and faster, Quinn whines in the back of her throat as she feels herself get closer. "I want you to come," she tells Rachel. It's been so long since anything has felt this good and she's almost embarrassed at how quickly this is going to end for her.

A wry smile that makes Quinn ache adorns Rachel's lips as one hand tightens on Quinn's hip and the other grabs the back of her neck. "You first."

She brings Quinn down for a searing kiss, thrusting her tongue into her mouth. The other woman is moaning with every thrust now and Rachel's memory comes into play. This is the part where she proves how much she knows her girlfriend. Rachel's a singer at heart. So she considers it only natural to be able to detect pitch change. Change such as the minute difference of Quinn's moans right before she climaxes. Her moans increase in pitch, but just barely. Ears in tuned to her every moan, Rachel waits for the moment, holding off her own orgasm that's quickly chasing after her.

She doesn't have to wait for very long. Quinn feels her stomach tighten; her hands grasp the sheets below her in an iron grip as she emits a choked cry. All of her nerve endings are alive. She hasn't had an orgasm this good in so long that she actually thinks she might die. She shudders on top of Rachel, hips bucking without rhythm. "I love you."

Rachel's back arches hard as she comes as well, blindsided by the declaration. She feels herself flood as she moans loudly into the still air of Quinn's room. Her arms wrap tightly around Quinn's waist, nails digging into her skin desperately, needing to feel close to her as her entire world shatters.

It's Quinn that comes to her senses first, panting into Rachel's neck. She smiles lazily, sated, as she picks her head up to look at the shorter woman. Rachel's eyes are shut tight, catching her breath as well as she tries to wrap her mind around what just happened.

It's weird for Quinn because she doesn't have the urge to pull away or run or…anything. All she wants to do is lie there. So she does. She rolls off of Rachel, onto her back, slings one arm over her eyes and just lies there.

When her eyes finally open and she blinks away the colorful spots, Rachel turns her head to face Quinn. For once she's speechless, mouth opening and closing but no words forming.

She watches as Quinn gets up from the bed and her heart sinks a little. She sits up to look at her. "Where are you going?"

Quinn detects the tremor in Rachel's voice and turns to her quickly. She straightens her skirt, trying to look at least a little presentable. "I was just going to shower," she replies, voice still husky. "I'm a little…" Her nose crinkles, cutely in Rachel's opinion. "Sticky."

"Oh!" she squeaks. "Of course. I-I don't know what I was thinking."

Quinn doesn't respond, just walks into the bathroom and steps into the shower. She cleanses her body as she tries to sort out her mind. She changes the dial controlling the water to cold in an attempt to cool the fire in her body so that she can actually think.

She lost control of herself during the almost sex she had with Rachel and she feels out of place. All of the words she said scare the hell out of her. Telling Rachel to promise to be hers forever comes as just as much of a shock to her as it did to Rachel. And the bewildered expression that Rachel had on her face when it was over doesn't help things in the slightest.

Quick, shallow breaths are taken as Quinn tries her best not to hyperventilate. But she can't help it. She jumped the gun big time. Rachel was right when she said that Quinn wasn't ready and now she wishes she had listened. But she didn't expect it to be so good that she'd spout off words like that. Nothing has ever felt that good in the last seven years and she's forgotten how alive her body can be. She's forgotten what passion is and in the span of an embarrassing ten minutes the words from Rachel's mouth, her body, her very soul spoke to Quinn and rejuvenated her every being.

The shower turns off abruptly and Quinn steps out. She towels off and dresses before walking back into her room. "Shower's free," she says evenly.

Rachel hesitates, wanting to say something, but settles on a quiet, "Okay." She trudges to the shower, a little hurt. She doesn't understand what's wrong. If Quinn wasn't ready then she should have stopped. Better yet, she shouldn't have started.

She makes her shower quick because all she wants to do is go to sleep and forget this whole awkward event even happened.

When she walks back into the room Quinn is on her back, hands behind her head, staring at the ceiling. She must really be thinking hard because Rachel manages to make it to the bed and lie down without Quinn's acknowledgement.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong? Or even acknowledge what you said?" Rachel asks her quietly.

Quinn doesn't say anything. She doesn't know what to say because this is all confusing. And she doesn't want to open her mouth and utter some scathing remark that she doesn't mean in an attempt to defend herself. But what would she be defending herself against? Rachel has proven time and time again that she means no harm, that she's one of the few people that have been in Quinn's life that has never set out to intentionally hurt her.

Shoulders sagging at the silence that greets her, Rachel turns over away from Quinn, defeated. "I knew this was a bad idea," she mumbles. She shuts her eyes tightly and curls her body into itself, almost forming a ball, not even wanting to be bothered.

Quinn looks to her then. She really hates when Rachel is mad at her. Turning towards her, she tentatively reaches a hand out to lightly touch her arm. She's slowly learning that just because she's not good with words or her feelings sometimes doesn't mean she has the right to be closed off all the time.

She curls herself against Rachel's back as an apology for the things she can't say yet. And Rachel grabs the arm around her and holds it tightly to her body as an acceptance of Quinn's apology.

Neither one has what can necessarily be called adequate sleep, but at least it's something.


"Quinn, I have to leave in approximately ten minutes. Can you please hurry?"

Rachel scrambles to put on her heels as she briskly walks into Quinn's living room. They had overslept and she's trying her hardest not to be late to the airport.

Quinn walks into the living room a little wide eyed. "I can't go with you."

Completely caught off guard, Rachel's entire body spins to meet her. "Why?"

Quinn steps up to her. "We're together now, Rachel. And we both know that it can't be public. If I go out to the airport with you and we do something that can be used as—"

"Then we won't do anything," Rachel rushes out. "We don't have to hug or kiss in public. We can do it here. I just want to see you for as long as I can before I have to leave."

Quinn doesn't generally think of herself as a sap, not by any means. Quite the opposite in fact. But Rachel has a way of melting her heart in only a way that she can. Before she can even blink, she has Rachel wrapped in her arms.

She inhales the scent of apples deeply. "For the record I don't think this is a good idea."

"I know," sounds Rachel's muffled voice.

"I mean, it's a really stupid idea."

"I get it."

She pulls back with a smile. "But I'll go."

Rachel enjoys the intense and passionate moments they have together, but it's moments like these that are light hearted that really steal her breath away.

"We're alright, aren't we?" Quinn asks her quietly. "I mean…with last night and with us."

Truth is that Rachel had barely thought about the night before since she's woken up. Well, that's not completely true. She thought about what she and Quinn did, but the awkwardness that occurred afterwards didn't cross her mind. "Everything is fine, Quinn," she says sincerely.

"And you…" Her brow furrows. "You enjoyed it, right?"

Rachel flushes slightly. "I think you were a firsthand witness as to how much I enjoyed it," she tells her quietly.

"Good." She hugs her tightly again, knowing that any moment Rachel's going to have to pull away and they're going to have to leave.

"I love you," Rachel whispers into the crook of Quinn's neck.

She shivers a little before her lips brush Rachel's temple. "I love you, too."

"We're going to be okay," Rachel tells her. Quinn hadn't realized that her apprehension was so noticeable. "I'll be back really soon."

"I hope so."


Santana listens carefully as their flight is called. "Come on, Berry. It's time to go."

Just as she promised, Quinn is there, sitting across from Rachel. They'd been there for about fifteen minutes and exchanged a few words but Quinn didn't dare sit beside her.

Rachel looks toward her before taking a stand. "I guess I'll see you when I get back," she mumbles quietly. The sadness in her voice makes Quinn want to reach out and smooth the bangs from her face before taking her into a hug.

"Yeah," is all she manages to choke out.

Rachel looks into her eyes then, a little sad, a little defiant. "Quinn, I—" She looks around her and for the first time she notices just how crowded the airport is. Her aviators, dressed down appearance, and baseball cap can only go so far and she knows that there is at least one person in the sea of people that knows exactly who she is.

Quinn watches the stubbornness in Rachel's posture. "Get on the plane," she tells her quietly, but leaves no room for arguing, knowing the dramatic brunette is about to cause a scene. "We've already said these things, so there's no need to do it again."

Her eyes narrow at Quinn's tone but she knows Quinn is right. Before she knows what's happening, Santana is pulling on her arm and she's getting farther and farther from Quinn. She turns back to stare at her for as long as she can.

And Quinn never stops watching her, either. She thinks it's poetic justice to know how much it hurts to watch Rachel leave her just as she had left Rachel all those years ago. When Rachel disappears behind a gate and is lead outside, Quinn walks toward the huge airport windows, standing there for the entire thirty minutes that it takes for Rachel's plane to finally take flight and for her own heart to plummet.