A/N – I just finished a Harry Potter Movie Marathon at my local theater today. Twenty-five hours of Harry, Hogwarts and Magic. I'm physically, emotionally and mentally exhausted. Deathly Hallows Part 2 was the embodiment of the word "epic". I cried throughout the entire movie. I started crying before the introduction credits rolled. Yes, I'm a diehard Harry Potter fan and will be until the day I die. The Marathon was so bittersweet for me; I both loved it and hated it because I will never be able to experience it again. No more books, no more movies. Sad and depressed doesn't even begin to cover what I'm feeling. Thus, this chapter is really not light or happy. But I hope you still enjoy it. Long live Harry Potter!
Chapter 13 – Every Rose Has Its Thorns
"Can it be Halloween again soon?"
Rachel smiled down at her granddaughter whose head was craned upward, looking at her grandmother with a hopeful gleam in her eye. She smoothed down an errant lock of blond hair that curled wildly on the side of the little girl's head. "Halloween was only two months ago, little one."
"But I finished all my candy already," came the petulant reply. It was followed by a unimpressed huff and folded arms.
Rachel raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Are you telling me that your mommies allowed you to consume all the candy from Halloween already?" The older woman was not amused by this revealing piece of news; last she remembered, Shannon had arrived at her doorstep laden with a rucksack so filled to the brim with sugary treats that it was threatening to burst at the seams.
Shannon kicked out her legs and ducked her head sheepishly. "Well, no," came the half-whispered reply.
Rachel rolled her eyes. "You snuck into the candy jar when you weren't suppose to didn't you?"
"Mommy did it first!"
Rachel burst into laughter, eyes crinkling under the strain of her mirth. "I need to have a conversation with your mama about monitoring you and your mommy's sugar intake." The former star was reminded of all the times her daughter snuck snacks of the sugary kind from the kitchen, often getting caught red handed when she would forget to wipe her mouth or wash her hands. It was quite obvious where Shannon inherited her sugar addiction from.
Shannon huffed again, going so far as to throw out her lower lip. "Candy is yummy."
"Candy gives you cavities," Rachel reprimanded. "And it makes you far too hyper, little one." She chucked the little blonde under the chin. "I hope you brush your teeth properly, Shannon."
"Every day," came the simpering reply. Rachel's already arched brow hiked up even higher at the enthusiastic reply. Shannon felt the heat of her grandmother's gaze on her and ducked her head even further, almost speaking into her knees. "My toothpaste tastes like chocolate," she mumbled reluctantly.
"Oh dear Barbra, your mommy is spoiling you rotten." Rachel made another mental note to give her other daughter a verbal lashing. "We'll talk about this later. Turn the page, please."
Shannon grumbled under her breath but complied. On the next page was a series of thorns and withered, dry petals, taped strategically to form the letters R + Q. The blonde frowned down at the odd mosaic of items. "What is it?"
"Those are petals and thorns from roses Grandma Quinn got me." Rachel used a finger to follow the path of said items, tracing her and Quinn's initial. "See how they are taped to form the first letter of our names?"
Shannon nodded, mystified by the new revelation from the book. "Why did Grandma Quinn give you flowers?"
"Because she was being a pain," came Rachel's fond reply.
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Rachel likened Quinn to a rose. Pretty, perfect and aromatic. However, like a rose, she was also thorny and prickly. And Rachel was fast discovering that the longer she dated the blonde, the more thorns Quinn seemed to have.
A glaring thorn on the rose that was Quinn was Santana. The blonde and the Latina had been friends since grade school and though their friendship was odd and rocky even at the best of times, it was no secret that when it came down to it, they always had each other's back.
Dating Quinn meant associating with Santana and for Rachel this was potentially problematic. The Latina was hotheaded, crass and never afraid to speak her mind. The diva was stubborn, outspoken and willful. Put these sets of personalities in one room and sparks were sure to fly. However, as much as they collided with each other, Rachel had come to find Santana as a comrade of sorts. Sure, they bickered and bitched at each other at every given interval but that actually came to serve as the foundations for a long lasting friendship. Therefore, Rachel came to see the thorn known as Santana as a nice reality check. The Latina helped the diva develop a tough skin and a quick tongue and in return Rachel gave Santana someone to verbally volley with whenever she had to vent out her various creative diatribes.
Other thorns associated with Quinn were more to do with the blonde's personality. Rachel was an extrovert by nature, often wearing her heart on her sleeve and this made her both vulnerable and invincible at the same time. Quinn, on the other hand was also introverted when it came to her feelings. Sure, she had grown leaps and bounds ever since dating Rachel but there were still moments where she hid behind her silence and her moods.
Right now, however, Quinn was wielding the thorn known as defiance as her latest favorite weapon. Her shield to go along with her defiance? Stubbornness. Pure, unadulterated, bull-headed stubbornness.
"Quinn, for the love of god, will you just stop and think for a minute?" Rachel swiveled around on her computer chair to face the blonde who was sulking from her perch on the edge of Rachel's bed. "You only want to tell him because you know that it would probably send the man into an early grave."
Quinn scowled. "Will you quit being so damn dramatic?" She folded her arms defiantly across her chest. "I want to tell him about us. What's so wrong about that?" She caught the disbelieving look on the brunette's face and promptly changed tactics. "Don't you want to tell him about us?"
"Of course I do! I just –"
"Are you ashamed of me?"
Silence rocked the room the minute those words left Quinn's mouth and evaporated into the air like a slow creeping poison. The pair stared at each other, one with her mouth agape and the other rigid, eyes wide with shock. Quinn recovered first.
"Rachel…" She unfolded herself off the bed and began taking closing the small distance between her and her girlfriend but was halted in her tracks when Rachel held up a hand in warning.
"That was a low blow, Quinn." The diva's voice was in its lower registries, its inflection peppered with hurt and disappointment. She clutched at the pencil that was currently being strangled between her fingers, her other hand still poised in midair. She lowered it. "You know as well as I do that I have no qualms about my sexuality or about being with you. I have two gay dads in case you haven't noticed!"
"Rachel, I'm sorry." Quinn was working fast to backpedal because she knew she had hit a sore spot. It was the blonde who had reservations about coming out initially, not Rachel. But that was mostly her Catholic guilt talking. To throw that accusation into her girlfriend's face however…it was a low blow. "Baby, I didn't mean it." One slender hand tugged supple fingers threw a mop of unkempt blonde hair. "I just don't want to hide you from him."
"And I don't want you to." Rachel tossed the pencil onto her desk, fearing for its safety when her grip almost caused the object to snap in half. "However, I have a right to question your motives, Quinn." Chocolate orbs, darkened with disapproval, sought unblinking hazel eyes that were guarded. "Your father, whom you haven't spoken to since before summer, decided a week ago to try to come back into your life. He wants to make amends, understandably so. He wants to get to know you again, which, again, is understandable. I may not know your father well, Quinn but I do know from what happened to you during your pregnancy and what you told me that Russell is a deeply religious Catholic." Rachel looked Quinn dead in the eyes. "So tell me why you're so eager to tell him that you're dating not only a girl, but a girl who has two dads?"
"Because I shouldn't have to hide who I am!" Quinn clenched her hands but her sides. "You're the one always preaching to be open with who you are so why are you on my case about me wanting to tell my dad about you?"
"Because I know that the reason for your wanting to tell him is so that you can get a reaction out of him." Rachel slid out of her chair and walked over to where Quinn stood, rooted to the carpet. "You weren't this eager to come out to your mom, Quinn. It took weeks to cajoling, comforting and reassuring from me and my dads before you even contemplated the idea. And now, Russell is barely back in your life for a week and you're suddenly so enthusiastic about coming out to him? Tell me you don't have an ulterior motive for it."
"I just want the world to know I love you," Quinn defended albeit weakly. Rachel wasn't hitting far off the mark; ever since the babygate incident, the blonde's relationship with her father had become so strained that they were almost estranged. After the divorce was finalized between her parents, Quinn cut Russell from her life. And now that he was back, practically groveling at her feet, she wanted nothing more than to put him through a series to rigorous tests, to prove his fealty.
"I do too," Rachel replied softly. She reached up to cup Quinn's cheek, a ghost of a smile appearing on her lips when the blonde instinctively leaned into the touch. "I want you to scream that you're mine and only mine from the top of the Empire State building but Quinn…" She removed her hand, her palm instantly going cold as it retreated from the warmth and softness that was Quinn's cheek. "I don't want you using our relationship as a way for you to get back at your dad. That's not right."
"Rachel…"
"I'm going for a walk to clear my head." Rachel didn't bother waiting for a reply as she grabbed her keys and wallet from the desk. "Please don't be here when I come back."
Quinn was left frozen where she stood, her eyes watching as Rachel disappeared out the door and down the stairs.
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"You're an idiot," was what Santana greeted Quinn with when her captain sank down onto the seat next to the Latina.
The head cheerleader glared at her second in command. "I'm not in the mood for you shit today, San. Drop it."
"You don't scare me, Juno." Santana drowned a French dry into a goop of ketchup before plopping it into her mouth. "Whatever the hell you did to get your Keebler elf to give you the cold shoulder, just apologize and say you were wrong." Dark eyes, the color of coffee, locked onto Quinn's hazel. "And do it quick so I can get my girlfriend back on my schedule. She's been tagging along after Thumbelina for days and when she's not, all I hear is 'Rachel this and Rachel that.' It's a freakin' mood killer."
Quinn scowled. "Will you desist with the goddamn nicknames? Her name is Rachel. Ra-chel," she emphasized.
"Ra-chel," Santana repeated mockingly, throwing back another handful of ketchup stained fries. She chewed languidly then washed it down with a swig of water. "Well go and make nice with Ra-chel before I lock the two of you into a room and throw away the key."
"Is this your roundabout way of saying that you care about her?" Quinn's brow was arched, the expression on her face betraying her shock and surprise. "Well, well, well. Who knew that underneath all that bitch lay a beating heart?"
"Can it, Preggers," Santana snarled. She leaned in close until her nose almost touched Quinn's. "Look, she's still short and annoying and half the time I want to toss her into a dumpster. But she calms your crazy and you calm hers. It's like a match made in crazy heaven. So whatever the hell you did, pick up your balls and go apologize."
"I'm not sure if a simple apology is going to cut it," Quinn grudgingly admitted. She fingered the hem of her Cheerios skirt and bit her lower lip. "I screwed up pretty big this time, San."
"Buy her some flowers and serenade her from outside her window or something," the Latina said. "Diva likes all that romantic gestures and shit right?"
Quinn carded a frustrated hand through her hair. "Maybe." She stole a fry off Santana's plate, using it to wave away her friend's glare at daring to steal her food. "Get over it, San. You don't scare me."
A punch to the arm was Santana's answer.
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Rachel's forehead furrowed in confusion when her doorbell rang. One glance at the clock told her it was just five minutes shy of nine o'clock. Her dads were out on an impromptu date and the diva was left alone in the house. The bell rang again and the brunette sighed before rolling off the couch. Intuition gave her a pretty good idea as to who was standing on the other side of the door and for a second the diva contemplated ignoring the bell but the glow from the television sifting through the uncurtained window gave away the fact that there was somebody home.
"Hello Quinn," Rachel greeted tiredly as she pulled open the door. A small gasp escaped when she was greeted by a bouquet of blood red roses, the blonde's eyes almost concealed by the extravagant bunch she held in her hand.
"Hey." Quinn toed the welcome mat in a show of hesitancy before offering the flowers to a stumped Rachel. "These are for you."
Rachel took the proffered bouquet and instinctively lifted them to her nose. She took in a deep breath, the scented of the flowers wafting up to entice her senses. "It's beautiful." She look into Quinn's eyes. "Thank you, Quinn."
The blonde nodded. "Can I come in?"
Rachel hesitated for a fraction before nodding and moving away from the door. She made her way to the kitchen to put the flowers in some water, Quinn trailing along behind her after closing the door. The blonde watched the brunette fish a vase from under the sink, fill it with water before gently dropping the roses into it. No words were exchanged as Rachel lifted the vase and made her way out of the kitchen to the dining room where she arranged the vase onto the middle of the table. Quinn followed silently, watching Rachel's every move. The silence and tension was so profound that she jump slightly when the brunette finally spoke.
"Let's go to the living room, Quinn."
Again, the blonde conceded and followed though she made sure not to sit on the same couch as Rachel, choosing instead to sink into the chair next to the long couch. Rachel stared at Quinn and Quinn started at Rachel.
"How are you?" Rachel broke the silence with a tone so conversational that it was like she was asking for a weather report.
Quinn knew that tone far too well. She brushed past the pleasantries and dived headlong into her apology. "Rachel, I am so sorry." One hand twitched where it lay on her lap; the urge to reach over to cradle the smaller girl's hand in her palm was decidedly overwhelming. "You were right," she confessed quietly. "I was using our relationship as a way of getting back at my father."
Rachel never moved. She stared baldly at her girlfriend, eyes unflinching. "And did you?"
Quinn sank her incisor into the bottom left hand corner of her lower lip. "No," she replied. She gave into temptation and reached across to pick up Rachel's hand, momentarily holding her breathe in apprehensive as she wondered if the girl would pull away. A relieved breath exhaled from pink lips when the diva allowed her hand to be held. "I realized that I could never exploit you, us, like that. I'm just sorry that I didn't come to that conclusion sooner."
Rachel nodded, her face guarded but otherwise blank. "You hurt me, Quinn."
A muscle jumped in the blonde's cheek. "I know." Hazel eyes heavy with guilt and shame zeroed in on wary chocolate orbs. "I'm so sorry." Her slender fingers played with Rachel's who lay limp in the palm of Quinn's hand. Neither reciprocating but neither unwilling. "What can I do to make this right, Rachel?"
Rachel stared hard at Quinn, her gaze intense and unyielding. Quinn returned the look, never once breaking the connection of their eyes. Silence procured the room save for the low burr of the television, its glow flickering shadows on the walls of the otherwise unlit living room.
"The flowers was a nice start," Rachel finally offered almost off handedly. A tired grin finally curled the corner of her lip as she watched Quinn physically deflate. "I accept your apology, Quinn." Her hand finally animated itself and curled fingers around the blonde's gently moving ones. "Next time talk to me before you attempt to do anything rash, ok?" She smiled softly. "I know it's not always easy for you to talk about what you're feeling but I need you to let me in sometimes. Ok?"
"I promise," Quinn swore softly. She stood and made her way to kneel between Rachel's legs. "I love you and I'm sorry."
Rachel untangled their fingers only to reach up to cradle Quinn's face in both her hands. "I love you too." She sealed her declaration with a kiss.
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A/N 2 - Thanks for every review by the way. I know I sound like an old broken record but if y'all can take the time to write me one then I should reciprocate by saying thanks! Oh, the title for this chapter is from the song Every Rose Has It Thorn by Poison. It ain't mine, I'm just borrowing it.