Rachel woke up from being assaulted on the neck by Quinn's lips. The girl was hovering on top of her; giving her feather-like kisses and without any exposed part left untouched.

"Good morning to you, too," Rachel giggled before moving her head to one side for her girlfriend to cover more area. The artist dutifully followed the escort's wordless instruction. In between kisses, Quinn kept mumbling words so soft and muffled, they were almost incoherent. The brunette smiled at what she could work out such as "hot", "sexy", and "beautiful".

"I'm really all that to you?"

"And more."

"Hmm, do elaborate."

Quinn worked her way up to Rachel's jaw before staring at her intensely. "I'm not sure you're ready to hear what I have to say."

Rachel swallowed thickly at the burning gaze and the feel of Quinn's finger gently rubbing the pad on her nipple. "And how do you expect me to answer that when your hand is distracting me?"

"Because in case you don't want to talk serious stuff, I have a back-up plan", the younger girl smirked.

"How serious is serious?"

"I wanna know why you insist on this set-up."

"I can't tell you that right now."

"Right now…" Quinn repeated wistfully. "That means you'll tell me some other time?"

"When I think you're ready."

Rach," she whispered softly. "Please don't take this the wrong way."

"I won't."

"Stop making decisions for me."

"I'm trying to protect you, Quinn."

"From what?"

"From being devastated."

"By what?"

Rachel smiled lovingly at the artist. "I will tell you, okay? Just, like I said, trust me on this for now?"

The blonde surveyed the older girl's expression then nodded. "Okay. I do trust you."

"So…what was it you wanted to say earlier?"

"You really wanna know?"

The escort lifted her head and gave Quinn a quick kiss on the lips. "Yes, I do."

"You make me feel like I'm…significant."

"Quinn…I don't think—I've not treated you fairly, I know that."

"No, you don't get it. No one's ever made an effort to…push me away."

"That's," Rachel paused and frowned. "That's kind of a weird logic."

Quinn laughed before burrowing her face on the crook of the escort's neck. "It's not. People never cared enough to know me. Those girls…they're there because they're attracted to me for whatever reasons. Not because they like me. It's always 'wanna hook up?' or just, you know to experiment."

"How's that…"

"You made me realize last night, for whatever reason, you're doing this for me. You care enough to push me away even though it probably hurts you."

"It most definitely hurts me," Rachel admitted quietly.

And just like that, the sparkle in Quinn's eyes came back. "That's really good to know."

The brunette playfully slapped the younger girl's shoulder then held her tightly. "I'm glad I actually understood the context behind that statement, otherwise I would think you like to see me suffer."

Quinn sat up, tucked her legs under her and gazed at Rachel fondly. "I don't ever wanna see you suffer. I want to…do you really mean it? You want to have a family with me? It scares me, you know? I don't want to be like my parents."

"You won't be," Rachel reached out and took the blonde's hand. "You're sweet and loving…affectionate and sensitive."

Quinn's smile met her eyes. "I think you're going to be a great parent, too."

"We're getting ahead of ourselves," Rachel warned playfully.

"But you said I should think about the more…realistic aspects of our relationship."

"Yes, and I meant we need to discuss them together, step by step. It doesn't have to be today and all at the same time. That's not possible. I'm just asking you to be prepared that it won't be easy."

"Nothing's easy."

"But some situations are harder than others. That's all I'm saying. And ours may be one of them."

Quinn nodded solemnly before swooping in for a kiss that was meant to be comforting and an assurance. "I just want to really understand why we still have to go through this whole set-up."

"I thought you'd trust me. We're going in circles."

"I do trust you. But I would appreciate it if at a certain point; you could also actually trust my judgment and let me in. I want to live with you."

"Will you fight for me, Quinn?"

"Of course."

"Even if it means cutting ties that are important to you?"

The artist frowned and contemplated on what could be the meaning behind Rachel's words. She didn't have a specific idea, but understood the general context.

She was ready.

She would give up her life to be with Rachel.

She said yes. With conviction and determination.

And with that, the escort's defenses weakened once more.

"So…what are our plans for today?"

"I thought we would just stay in bed?"

"And break me for good, Quinn Fabray?"

"Well…yeah, that's the plan."

"Babe," Rachel laughed before holding Quinn's face with her hands. "No, okay? We're not gunning for any record. You've given me more orgasms last night than what I've had in my whole 27 years—counting self-help, too."

"I fail to see the connection bet—woah."

"What?" Rachel scowled. "I know how to masturbate, Quinn. Just because you think it's funny that you have more exper—"

"No," Quinn shushed with her finger touching the escort's lips. "that's not it. But now that you've mentioned that, you touching yourself, is an extremely erotic thought and I mustwitness that one of these days. But it's something else," she grinned. "…You called me babe."

Rachel's mouth formed an "o" and nodded slowly in realization. "I did, huh?"

"Yes, you did," Quinn said with her face beaming with joy. "And not in a patronizing way."

"I—really?"

"Sometimes. You only use terms of endearment when you're trying to placate me."

"I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Quinn chuckled. "This makes up for everything."

"No, it doesn't."

"Geez, you're being too hard on yourself, Rach. I swear, I feel so much better already."

"Santana told me you've stopped painting since we…you know."

Quinn rolled onto her back, stared at the ceiling and huffed loudly. "I really need to reevaluate my friendship with her."

"You do. She's such a great friend to you, she deserves better."

"I really—Hey! I resent that. I have been trying to treat her better since you made me realize, before."

Rachel sniggered. "Stop deflecting."

"Am not. I'm also just wondering how many times she talks to you behind my back."

Rachel scooted closer and cuddled Quinn, murmuring against the artist's shoulder. "A lot. She was very worried at what she perceived to be self-destruction on your part. You promised me you'd never do drugs again."

"I wasn't—okay," the blonde sighed. "I know…I know…I'm sorry. I did stop without anyone telling me. I realized I was being stupid, and doing all those crazy things won't get you back."

"So, you stopped sleeping with your schoolmates, too?" Rachel inquired, not bothering to hide the venom in her question.

"Yeah…" Quinn swallowed nervously. "Are you mad at me?"

"For sleeping with them? I was deeply hurt. But…no. I couldn't get mad at you. You didn't cheat on me. But the drugs? I am really disappointed because you broke your promise."

"I won't do it again."

"Do you need help?"

"No—I swear, I'm not addicted."

"You once had yourself checked for STD, right?"

"Uhm…yeah. Why?"

"Would you mind if I ask you to go to counseling?"

Quinn sat up and glared at Rachel. "I'm not addicted."

"I'm not saying you are, Quinn. I said counseling, not rehab. But you do turn to it when you feel so much pain. You're a step away from being dependent on it to alleviate your suffering. You self-destruct. You didn't address my first concern. Why did you stop painting?"

The blonde girl deflated visibly and hung her head low. "Because it was becoming too…dark and repetitive. It was just all anger and confusion. It's not my style to have rows of similarly themed work lying around my workshop."

"Hearing all of this, Quinn. I can't help but feel I'm not really good for you," the escort sighed heavily. "You were doing fine before me."

"Hey, no," the artist protested before rolling on top of Rachel. "You can ask Mr. Schue. My best outputs are those I made from the time we met. I'm just…I need to learn how to be less…intense."

"I don't have a problem with that, Quinn," Rachel smiled as she pulled Quinn closer. "Being intense…that's part of who you are. And I've learned to love it."

"It doesn't scare you anymore?"

"I'm still learning to deal with it. But no, I'm not that scared anymore."

"But…"

"But it's how you vent things out that still scare me. Drugs? Breaking stuff?" Rachel pursed her lips and looked at Quinn sympathetically and stroked her hair. "This isn't just for me, you know? I want that you'd be the best person you can be—with or without me. You already know that."

"I don't like the without part," Quinn scowled.

"Yes, but since we are ten years apart, I'd probably die first and then, what would you do?"

"Spend the rest of my years waiting for my time to follow you."

"By being angry all the time?"

"No…by telling the world how wonderful you are through my art—Rach, there's a difference between death by old age or sickness or accident, and you voluntarily walking out. It's the latter I can't survive. I won't survive another person I love so much quitting on me. You also already know that."

"And that person is me."

"Yes, Rachel," Quinn said with a look of incredulity. "You should know by now it's you. No one else, but you. And okay, I'll go to counseling. I'll do anything you want me to."

"But you know it's for your own good, right?"

"Yes," Quinn chuckled. "I'm not that immature, alright? It's a slow process, but I'm getting there. You gotta factor in the age."

Rachel rolled her eyes and huffed. "Convenient to bring in the age gap thing, now."

"You love the fact that I'm young and horny all the time."

"Whatever, Miss Fabray. My whole body is bruised. This qualifies as abuse."

"Miss Berry. I'm the one with scratches all over my back. You'd think I was attacked by a lion."

"Surely you exaggerate," the escort dismissed but nonetheless glanced subtly at Quinn's back. Attempting not to blush at her handiwork, Rachel cleared her throat and ignored the blonde's smug grin. "So, again, what are our plans today?"

"Well…there's this thing I go to every now and then."

"What thing?"

"Relax, no drugs are involved."

"But why do I get the feeling it's something illegal."

"That's because it's sorta is."

"Quinn!"

"You don't even know what it is!"

"Okay, fine," Rachel grumbled. "What is it?"

"It's this thing…my friend's father owns a casino and like, they change all the poker tables and stuff quickly, right? So, she's—well, she's very enterprising and you know what they say about apples not falling far from—"

"Quinn, you are rambling."

"Right, okay. She runs an underground casino. Totally legit."

"It cannot possible be 'totally legit' if it's underground."

"I meant, there aren't like, syndicate-related links, or drugs. Just pure… wholesome… underground… casino," Quinn said with one eye closed, "for below 21."

Rachel's jaw slackened. "Nothing is sacred in this town. And you're a regular there."

"No—I mean, I go there a lot, but I don't really gamble."

"And it's never been raided?"

"There are worse things, you know?" Quinn said defensively. "Plus, it's kind of like an exclusive club. With passwords and all. So, it's not like a lot of people know."

"And I'm sure her father pays the police a lot."

"True, but we are in Vegas. Things like that are dime a dozen."

"So, in short, you want us to go there tonight?"

"Yeah…" Quinn drawled out. "But only if you're comfortable," she quickly added. "And I can ask San and Britt to go with us."

"I'd rather not involve them, in case something goes wrong."

"I promise," Quinn laughed. "Just…trust me. I want you to know there's more to life than running away from your past. Nothing wrong will happen. I've brought S there several times before. She is a poker goddess. She'd be more than happy to impress Britt."

Poker goddess was an understatement. And it wasn't just Brittany that was impressed by the Latina's gambling skills. Rachel watched in awe as Santana ranked up the chip board an hour after she sat down.

"Jesus, Quinn," Rachel whispered. "This is real money, right? Because Santana could potentially walk away with thousands of dollars tonight."

"Yup. I tell you. I can make a lot of money from Santana's skills."

"Wait, so that's your money she's playing?"

"Well, yeah. Where else would she get the money from?"

The escort lolled her head from side to side then took a sip from her drink. She smiled at how the Latina looked visibly relaxed with Brittany sitting right behind her. "They seem very comfortable with each other."

"B and S? Yeah. Santana's finally coming to terms with her sexuality."

"Oh, so it wasn't always like this?"

Quinn shook her head before chuckling. "Santana was tolerant of me, my lifestyle and all. But it freaked her out, like really freaked out, when she realized how attracted she is with another girl."

"Well, I'm glad she's getting over it."

"Yeah…not everyone is like you," the artist grinned proudly.

"Hey, you know I freaked out, too."

"Yeah, but not as much."

"Your charm was strong enough to reign in any chance of me absolutely freaking out."

"Would my charm be able to entice you for a round of roulette?"

"I thought you didn't gamble."

"I hardly gamble. But this is a rare occasion. Come on."

"And you choose roulette as your poison?"

"It's the only one I sort of understand," Quinn laughed as she pulled Rachel up.

"I bet you secretly just wanna play with the wheel," the escort laughed as well and playfully nudged the younger girl.

"Well, that, too," Quinn admitted. "Plus, I heard a certain escort always served as a good luck charm to many high rollers."

Rachel raised her eyebrows and smirked as she settled next to Quinn at the roulette table. "And where in the world did you get that information?"

"Do you really need to ask?"

"Right," the brunette chuckled before picking up several green chips. "Try not to be too friendly with Puck. I get nervous—green to black and odd, Quinn."

"Why?" Quinn's eyes widened. "Is there a trick to this?"

"No," the brunette laughed. "In my years of hanging out in casinos, I've yet to know anyone break a code for roulette. Unless, I suppose, if you go to some seedy rings that rig the wheel. I just happen to like black and odd right now. Outside bets have higher chances, though lower payouts."

"Okay, you're the boss," the blonde relented and placed two green chips on each area of the layout. "And why does hanging out with Puck make you nervous?"

"Just because," Rachel huffed while watching the croupier spin the wheel then the ball in the opposite direction.

"Afraid that I'll find out more secrets?"

"I don't have any more secrets…not one that concerns Puck, anyway."

"Then why?"

"Because…because he has feelings for me," Rachel nervously admitted and carefully observing Quinn's reaction.

"Oh, I know that," the younger girl sniggered.

"You do?"

"He's very obvious."

"And you don't have problems with that?"

"Not that I don't…but I can understand why he loves you. It's…a weird bond we have."

"Well…okay," Rachel grinned widely as the ball landed at eleven. "Black and odd, what do you know?"

"Woah," Quinn whispered and clearly impressed at her fifty dollar return. "You are good."

"Just lucky. Wanna take a risk, Miss Fabray?" Rachel asked seductively.

The blonde's smirk widened. "Definitely."

They switched to playing roles again.

But this time, without the heaviness of sticking with the script.

Quinn started to become more daring with her bets, with Rachel beside her whispering and kissing her constantly for encouragement.

They won some, they lost some.

Quinn was all red from the older woman's unabashed display of affection despite a small crowd slowly drawing around them.

In the end, Quinn didn't care that she just broke even.

"Lord almighty. You were this close to a free porn show," Santana guffawed as she subtly counted her money under the table as they waited for coffee at a diner.

"I personally enjoyed it," Brittany nodded solemnly. "So, Rachel…if I hired you—"

"Britts," Santana interjected with a horrified expression, "you just can't say things like that."

"Why not? You told me she's an escort."

The Latina shot an apologetic look at both Quinn and Rachel sitting at the opposite side of the booth. "Yes, well, no. Rachel is Quinn's girlfriend."

"Yeah, but you're still an escort, right, Rach?"

"I—well," the older woman cleared her throat, "I'm semi-retired."

"Which means?"

"Which means, I…only choose a certain number of clients these days. Very few."

"Well, that's a bummer."

"Wait, what do you mean?" Santana gasped. "Don't tell me you actually want to hire her?"

"I did ask earlier, didn't I?"

"I thought you were just curious!"

"Exactly!"

"No, I meant, you know, just curious about the concept."

"Should we be here?" Rachel whispered to Quinn as their two companions continued to argue.

Quinn sipped her coffee then shrugged. "It's gonna end in a make out session, don't worry."

"Again, should we be here?"

The artist sighed dramatically. "Britt, you can't hire Rachel, because she's my girlfriend and that would really piss me off."

Brittany pouted and nodded begrudgingly. "Fine. But just so you know, Q. You're very lucky…and so am I," the taller blonde added before playfully nudging Santana. "I was just teasing you, you know. I would never hire an escort when I have you."

Quinn rolled her eyes at Rachel as they watched the other couple shift from argumentative to sweet in a flash. "Told you."

"Are we…" the escort grimaced, "sort of like that?"

"Like what?"

"Them, I mean."

"Oh, no. We're definitely worse. But I wouldn't have it any other way."

"If only Las Vegas allows same-sex marriage," Rachel sighed wistfully.

"We'd be in a drive-thru chapel by now?"

"Yup. You're doing and saying everything right, it's intoxicating."

"Well…actually, we do have domestic partnership laws… "

"Really? I need to pay more attention to local civil rights."

"Yeah—do you wanna?"

"No—well, yes," Rachel laughed. "But not right now."

"Oh," the artist grinned back. "Just an FYI, then?"

"Yeah, that really is good to know," the escort reassured Quinn. "When the dust settles."

"Woah, hold up," Santana gasped. "Did I hear you correctly? Wedding?"

"I'm surprised you can hear. Kissing tends to make people go deaf," Quinn retorted.

"Really? That explains why Rachel walked in on us…" Brittany interjected.

"This conversation is giving me a headache," Rachel mumbled.

"Whatever, Madame Butterfly," the Latina scoffed. "Wedding?"

"We're not getting married…yet," the artist replied. "We're just talking. Because you know, my woman's biological clock is ticking."

"That," the escort laughed while playfully whacking Quinn's head, "was sobering. I take back what I said earlier. You have a glorious way of screwing things up."

"And I swear, Quinn. If you elope, I'm gonna kill you. Nothing will get in between me and managing your wedding. Plus, I'll never forgive you if I don't get to be your maid of honor," Santana grumpily pointed out.

"Woah, woah," Quinn held her hands up defensively. "No one's getting married yet. And I won't screw up my own wedding, I swear. And I love you, Rach. Menopausal or not."

"Oddly enough, that is one of the sweetest thing you've ever said," the escort admitted.

"I have a way with words. And to your heart."

"Okay, you're really pushing it, Quinn."

"You both are. You're disgusting," the Latina threw back playfully.

Playful was the right word to describe the night. Rachel let all her guard down and for the first time became the girl she never had the chance to be. From the cheap hole-in-the-wall Vietnamese dinner Brittany and Santana treated her and Quinn to earlier, all the way to the joyride in Quinn's car with the blonde cheerleader taking control of the wheel to nowhere and everywhere, the escort began to understand what the artist meant that morning.

There was more to her life than running away from her past.

There is Quinn.

And as she watched the artist sang along to the song on the radio at the backseat—her eyes sparkling brightly and without a care in the world— Rachel knew Quinn deserved better than tonight.

Quinn deserved all of her.

A/N: I apologize for the delay and for a haphazardly done chapter. I've been sick, got hospitalized for a week and a half and still just recovering :/