Despite the title, this isn't the wedding chapter. The dress fittings, bachelorette parties, and more gleek drama all happens next chapter. Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing. Your support and reaction to this is truly overwhelming and appreciated.
Chapter Fourteen: My Best Friends' Wedding
Rachel exploded out of McKinley and was immediately dancing in the parking lot as Quinn rushed to keep up. The blonde was laughing as she watched Rachel twirl around their car as she continued to sing I'm Real at the top of her lungs—and considering it was Rachel Berry, it was pretty loud.
"Wait up!" Quinn yelled through a laugh as she sprinted towards the diva, quickly tossing their clothes in the car and hurrying to follow as Rachel skipped down the sidewalk that led out of McKinley's parking lot. "Rach!"
"Keep up, Fabray!" Rachel called back, spinning around to grin at the blonde before trotting forward merrily. The wind had picked up and danced stray pieces of Rachel's hair in every direction, giving off the effect of importance; like the moment mattered greatly.
"Gotcha!" Quinn whispered as she wrapped her arms around a giggling Rachel, burying her smile in the diva's neck. They continued on like that, Quinn's arms around Rachel, her chin on the diva's shoulder, as they took careful steps, completely fine with the fact that they had left the car in the parking lot. If Quinn was curious as to where Rachel was leading them, she never asked. She only laughed when Rachel began singing loudly again, nudging Quinn lightly to join in as well. "Good day?" Quinn breathed out in between verses.
Rachel took a deep breath as she smiled, pulling Quinn's arms tighter around her waist as they walked. "Good day." She followed that up with another line from the song. But when Quinn twirled Rachel before bringing her back in her arms, Rachel stopped singing.
"You okay?" The blonde asked as she rested her chin back on Rachel's shoulder as they continued to walk, concerned that Rachel stopped mid-line.
Rachel was silent for a moment, the sound of their feet skidding across gravel as they trouped along, before she giggled softly. "We are the crowd." Rachel stated.
"What?"
"We're coming out."
"I think we already did that."
"Got my flash on, it's true."
"You've stop making sense."
"Need that picture of you."
"What picture?"
"It's so magical."
"Rachel, do I need to call someone to fix you or not?"
"We'd be so fantastical."
"Wh-" Quinn cut herself off just as a slow smile spread. She giggled into Rachel's neck before she cautiously glanced over her shoulder. "You couldn't have just said something?" Quinn whispered as she chuckled.
"Leather and jeans. Garage glamorous." Rachel sang loudly. "Not sure what it means. But this photo of us."
"It don't have a price. Ready for those flashing lights." Quinn joined in.
"Cause you know that, baby…"
Now both Rachel and Quinn were singing loudly. "I'm your biggest fan, I follow you until you love me, papa-paparazzi."
The camera crew slowly followed several feet behind the two girls, happy to have finally found the pair. Quinn and Rachel continued to belt out the lyrics to the Gaga song, almost like they had unleashed their hidden glee club member, and couldn't stop singing. Or maybe they were just happy. Happy, and singing was the only way they could fully express it.
Their laughter made singing difficult, so instead of continuing on, Rachel surprised Quinn by jumping on her back until they toppled over onto a grassy area right by the bus stop where cars were speeding by.
Rachel's back was arched off the grass as she thumped her head down hard on the ground with laughter—roaring laughter that skipped and gasped and harmonized perfectly with Quinn's. The blonde lay crumbled against Rachel's body, their legs entwined, as they just laughed.
"I have a grass stain on my pants." Quinn observed with a pout, making Rachel's booming laughter ring throughout. The camera crew kept their distance, but was closely focused on the playful moment between the two.
"I always feel like, somebody's watching me!" Rachel sang out in between giggles. Quinn just gazed at her, elbow propped up, fingers laced through her hair, a soft smile, eyes intently trained on the diva.
Suddenly she was on her knees, her arms snaking through the grass, until she was just beside Rachel's ear. "I'm your biggest fan, I'll follow you until you love me, papa-paparazzi." She sang softly as she removed the hat on her head and covered her and Rachel's faces away from the cameras.
Rachel's laughter died instantly as her eyes shot to Quinn's, her breaths coming out in pants from the fall, laughter, and singing—but mostly from Quinn. "I don't like the cameras." Quinn whispered with a mischievous smile. Rachel only nodded in understanding as her heart thudded away as they lay hidden from the camera lenses.
She couldn't understand why Quinn's lips were still so close to her ear, but Rachel just stayed absolutely still and willed herself not to do something drastic—in every form. "Baby you'll be famous, chase you down until you love me, papa-paparazzi." Quinn's singing was so soft like air and so strong like a caress that Rachel shivered violently.
Throwing an arm around Rachel's waist, Quinn leaned in closer and just barely skimmed her lips against the shell of Rachel's ear. "Promise I'll be kind, but I won't stop until that-" Quinn cut herself off and Rachel tilted her head slightly as she glanced up to meet Quinn's playful stare. "…Girl is mine. Baby you'll be famous, chase you down until you love me, papa-paparazzi."
Quinn giggled at the surprise in Rachel's eyes and ducked her head to nuzzle into Rachel's neck. "Mad dash on three?"
Rachel was nodding and not sure why. She knew Quinn just asked her a question, but she couldn't process it. If her affections were for the cameras, then why had she blocked their faces? If her words were to prove her feelings for the media, then why were the whispered words too low for the mikes to pick up on such a windy day? Rachel felt disoriented. The intimacy of the moment was making her lightheaded. Or maybe she was dizzy because she kept forgetting how to breathe and then would overcompensate with harsh pants. "One. Two. Rachel, are you ready?"
Their eyes met briefly and Quinn grinned wickedly at the flash of astonishment she found in the dark eyes. Rachel was looking up at her as if a clue from a great secret had just been revealed. She swallowed thickly and nodded again. "You're ready?" Quinn asked softly, with all traces of mirth gone.
This time, Rachel didn't nod. She wasn't exactly sure what the question really was. She felt Quinn's fingers squeeze her hip softly before she slid her palm over Rachel's stomach and down until their fingers were twined. "Three." Quinn breathed out with another smile, until she tugged sharply on Rachel's hand as she propelled both of them to their feet. They took off at a sprint with Rachel trailing and wondering how she was in second place of a race she initially started what felt like decades ago.
Quinn and Rachel had the advantage. They were not in their late forties, carrying heavy camera equipment, and unfamiliar with the area; it was easy to lose the camera crew. They ducked through the woods behind the bus stop that led towards McKinley and twisted and ducked until they were back on school grounds, giggling and laughing as they went. They hopped into the car and Quinn was peeling from the parking lot before Rachel's door was even shut.
The ride to the Berrys had been silent except for the soft music playing on the radio. Quinn was afraid to look over at Rachel. She knew that the diva needed to figure out what just happened. What had been happening for quite some time. Rachel was trying not to think about it, however. Because if the pieces were adding up how she thought they were…well…for right now she wouldn't do math; it was giving her heartburn.
She's catching on.
I always thought Rachel was smarter than this.
Seriously? It took you over five years to realize that you love her and you're judging the girl because, after all that you had done to her in high school and finding out about your lie, she needs a little time to figure it out?
I wasn't always terrible to her!
I don't want to have this argument with you again. You sucked, let's just move on.
You're right, sorry. I'm just getting frustrated.
But she's catching on, it's working. The touching, the flirting, the subtle compliments; she's getting there.
I saw that look in her eye, she knows.
We don't know what she knows yet, but she's realizing things are different; they're changing.
They need to move faster, the wedding is days away!
Contingency plan time; what if she doesn't realize or she doesn't come clean.
I don't want to think about that.
Well stop biting your lip and start thinking about it because it's a real possibility. We're all in a very high-pressured situation here. There's a lot of baggage that's about to be dropped. Plenty of opportunities for Rachel to pop back in her shell or bury or head in the sand or whatever because she's scared.
I've been dreading that. With all of the past crap about to come up, there are way too many chances for Rachel to freak.
Finn.
Shelby.
Ugh, Santana.
Then we'll have to worry about her insecurities.
Puck.
Sam.
Freaking Finn, again.
And I'm pretty sure there will be some curve balls cause there always are. So, like I said, contingency plan time.
Look, whether she comes clean or not, we are getting married. There's a lot more to think about besides our own selfish feelings.
Unfortunately, you're right. I just need you to know that. I don't want you to get your heart broken.
My heart is fine. It's Rachel's I'm worried about.
Well, that's why we saw the lawyer.
I just- I really hope when all the drama goes down, because it undoubtedly will, that she comes to me.
And that's why I'm worried about your heart. Because if something happens, and Rachel doesn't come to you, you'll be devastated.
I just want her to trust me. Above everything else, I just want her to trust me.
She does. She's just been through a lot.
Quinn slowly exhaled before turning the radio up slightly. The music distracted her from her thoughts and she sang along to keep from mentally debating with herself further.
As Quinn pulled Rachel's daddy's car into the driveway, she frowned at the sight of Shiloh waiting beside the front door. "Party's over." Quinn breathed out with disdain as she slowly got out of the car.
Rachel was surprised when her car door was opened and Quinn held out her hand for her to take. But hazel eyes were still staring at Shiloh, as though the action was instinctual, immediate; her chivalrous ways ingrained and not planned. Rachel took Quinn's hand and allowed herself to be led up to the house, not really caring that Shiloh had found them.
Shiloh only nodded when they approached. "We need to talk."
Ten minutes later they were all seated around the Berrys' kitchen table with mugs of tea hugged between their palms. "You have your interviews tomorrow. Everyone has their interviews tomorrow." Shiloh said carefully.
Rachel nodded as she sipped her tea. "I'm prepared." Quinn nodded as well and scooted her chair closer to Rachel's and took one of her hands.
"That's fantastic." Shiloh said dryly. "How about you, Quinn? The rest of your bridal party; are they prepared."
"No." Quinn shook her vehemently. "I don't want to be interviewed. I will smile for the camera and do the whole dog and pony show, but I don't want to be interviewed and it wasn't in the contract; I checked."
Rachel pouted adorably as she looked up at Quinn. "You don't want to do an interview together?" Quinn sighed deeply and ran her fingers through her hair.
"Rach…I really don't want to." Rachel frowned again.
"But it would be nice."
"Can we talk about this later, Rach? I really don't want to."
Shiloh sighed loudly as she leaned back in her chair; she hated this project more every day. "Fine. The wedding party?"
"I see no reason why they should be interviewed."
"Because, Quinn, they know you two and it will be nice to have personal statements from them."
"I don't want them to." Quinn said through her teeth, only imagining how awful it could all turn out if Santana, Brittany, Kurt, and Puck had a mike in front of them.
"Well if they want to say something really no one can stop them. And they probably will; everyone wants their fifteen minutes. So I suggest you pay them a visit to coach them."
Rachel and Quinn shared an eye roll before Rachel smiled. "I'd just prefer a muzzle." Quinn quirked her eyebrow in agreement.
"Why? Do you two have a lot of skeletons?" Shiloh asked with a wince.
"Tons."
"An insurmountable amount."
"I'd really feel much better if we just got a muzzle."
"Or pay-offs." Rachel said to Quinn who nodded in agreement.
"We'll pay them off."
"They are a very morally bankrupted bunch."
"I'm so glad we didn't go ahead and investigate before we decided to do this." Shiloh mumbled sarcastically. "Do what you have to, legal or otherwise. Next on the agenda: final fittings are tomorrow. Rachel, you go with the boys and Quinn will go with the girls. After that are the interviews. Then you're good until the big day. Clear?"
Rachel and Quinn nodded. "Great. Next, the wedding. Your pit bull has been doing a lovely job of making sure all your decisions are being put forth."
"Thank you, Charlene." Rachel beamed. Quinn was very happy to hear that Charlene Swaine was cracking the whip.
"Later on today she'll bring by the final seating chart and you'll just sign off on it."
"Sounds good."
"Just make sure you talk to your friends."
"They're not our friends." Quinn clarified with a scowl.
Shiloh rolled her eyes and huffed as she rose. "Forced friends, obligatory wedding party, whatever you want to call them. Just make sure you prep them because with all the celebrities in town there are bound to be paparazzi and I really don't feel like running damage control. Got it?"
"Whatever."
"Fine." Quinn and Rachel said at the same time and then traded smiles over their lack of compliance.
As Shiloh went to leave the kitchen, she turned around and eyed the two girls. "Just do me a favor, guys. You don't need to sit for the camera crew all day, but please don't run away from them? I really don't feel like having to hire a new crew because the old ones dropped dead after chasing you all around Lima. And Bob, Scott, and Richy are actually sweet."
"No promises." Quinn said evenly as she sat back in her chair. Shiloh shook her head as she let herself out of the Berry house and Quinn turned to Rachel once she heard the front door close.
"Good day?"
"Not remotely." Rachel grumbled as she crashed her head on the table and tugged on her hair. "I don't want to see them. I want to live in a bubble and just gloss over everything else."
"That sounds perfect." Quinn agreed easily as she moved her chair even closer to Rachel's and slung her arm around her back. "But I had fun singing with you."
Rachel peaked out from behind her hair to glance up at Quinn. They both shared a soft smile until Rachel felt the tension shift. "What shall we do tonight?" She asked in a whisper.
Quinn bit her lip as she smiled at Rachel. "Well, I promised your dads I'd make them dinner, but after that I'm free. Are you offering?"
Rachel nodded slowly as she stared up at Quinn. "I guess I am."
"Then I accept." Quinn answered as she ran her fingers through Rachel's hair, tousling the waves slightly. "Watch a movie or go out?" They shared smiles as they silently agreed to stay in.
"I have to do our laundry, though." Rachel mumbled as her eyes slid closed at the feel of Quinn's fingers running through her hair.
"We'll fold as we watch our movie." Rachel nodded against the table.
"What are you making for dinner?" She asked with a yawn.
"Haven't decided yet but we have to go food shopping for the rest of the week."
"Sorry about that. We're famous for our take-out around these parts." Quinn chuckled softly as she stared down at Rachel.
"I believe I knew what I was signing up for. But I figured I'd go the extra mile and just cook the rest of the meals while we're here; no take-out. Both your dads have been randomly texting me all week with their requests."
"Even breakfast?" Rachel asked sleepily.
Quinn laughed again. "Even breakfast." Rachel smiled dopily at the thought. "When did you wanna go food shopping? Before or after we see everyone?"
Rachel yawned loudly and sat up with a stretch. She easily slid against Quinn's side as the blonde wrapped her arm around her and pulled her close. "I'll throw the first load of laundry in now and we'll run to the store. Then we'll see everyone." Quinn nodded her consent as she rested her chin atop of Rachel's head.
"Sounds like a plan."
"Or maybe we can start with a nap?"
"No nap."
"Slave driver."
"And remind me to call that guy from the New York studio."
"Mmmkay." Rachel breathed out as she cuddled closer to Quinn.
"Don't get comfy, Rach, we need to go see everyone."
Rachel pouted as she looked up at Quinn. "But I thought this was our day off."
Quinn sighed heavily and ran a finger down Rachel's nose. "We don't get days off, apparently. So who do you want to start with first?"
X
Now that it was a far more descent hour than it had been at the airport, Mercedes smiled brightly as she passed by Quinn into the Berry house. "How are the lovebirds doing?"
Quinn didn't smile. She couldn't smile. It would just come off as a grimace, anyway. So instead, she just followed her friend into the kitchen where Rachel was manically baking. When Mercedes saw the diva in her tizzy, she froze where she stood, lips parting and eyebrow rising, silently asking Quinn what was going on, as Rachel zipped back and forth through the kitchen.
Quinn sighed deeply. "It's been a tough day." She answered diplomatically.
"Ha!" Rachel scoffed as she hurriedly wiped her hands on her apron before rolling a ball of batter between her hands and then plopping it onto a cookie tray. "It's been more than tough! It's been excruciating!"
"Okay…what's going on?" Mercedes asked as she collapsed into a seat at the kitchen table. When she glanced up, both Rachel and Quinn were staring down at her with betrayal in their eyes and hands on their hips. "Guys?"
"You could have told us." Quinn accused.
"Warned us! Instead of throwing us right into the fire." Rachel followed up.
"It was like watching those orphan commercials and I feel all sad and depressed because I don't want to donate ten cents a day."
"Or the ones where they show three-legged dogs while Sarah McLachlan sings in the background!"
"It was horrible." Quinn whispered with a far-off look, like she was recalling the events.
"Not just horrible. Horrifying! It was horrifying, Mercedes, and you could have prepared us!" Rachel scolded as she pointed accusingly at the girl.
Mercedes stared blankly up at the pair and blinked slowly. "Okay, I have no idea what you guys are going on about."
Rachel was off again, quickly moving around the kitchen in a blur of pink as she stirred and cracked and plopped. "Shiloh came by the house."
"She told us that some of the guests and wedding party would likely want to be interviewed."
"As I'm sure you're aware, that would hardly be wise considering our history, separate and together, to let the gleeks speak about us in front of a camera!"
"So she urged us to talk to them. Maybe sway them not to talk or at least leave out the stuff we don't want the public to know."
Quinn reached out and took Rachel's trembling hand to stop her movements. The diva immediately buried herself in Quinn's chest and heaved a great sob. "It was just awful."
"I know, sweetie, I know." Quinn soothed as she closed her eyes and held Rachel.
Mercedes watched them silently as she tried to figure out what was going on. "So…what? They were mean to you guys. They gave you a hard time?"
Rachel whipped around and glowered. "I wish they had!"
"It would have been so much better." Quinn mumbled as she led Rachel over to the table. Rachel sat down on Quinn's lap with a deep sigh and curled there as she recalled their day.
"I thought…I thought that it would be fun." Rachel whispered wistfully. "Or at least full of nostalgia. Perhaps I was a tad nervous."
"We both were." Quinn added, staring unseeing across the kitchen.
"I was anxious to come face to face with Santana Lopez again."
"I really didn't want to talk to Puck."
"We thought that it would be almost bothersome recapping how we came to be and retelling our story and what we've been up to."
"But then…"
"But then…"
Mercedes' eyebrow rose as she glanced from Quinn to Rachel. "But then what?" She all but shouted.
Rachel buried her face in Quinn's neck. "You tell it, Quinn. I-I can't!"
"It's okay, Rach. It's going to be okay." Quinn glanced up at the impatient and confused Mercedes, and heaved a great sigh. "We both left on such bad terms with everyone." She started softly. Mercedes could only just hear her over Rachel's soft whimpering. "We really had no idea what to expect. We hadn't seen nor heard from anyone since graduation so we weren't really looking forward to it. Especially since we were both so sure they'd want to slam the door in our faces or torment us for our relationship." Quinn sighed again and wrapped her arms tighter around Rachel. "We didn't expect…well…what we got."
X
Five Hours Ago…
Both Quinn and Rachel were arguing as Quinn drove, neither happy about talking with their old classmates. They figured they'd start with the wedding party, even though they weren't too keen on the idea. Obviously they could skip Mercedes, so that left them with Santana, Brittany, Kurt, Puck, and Mike. Of course they'd have to revisit the other gleeks because they'd be at the wedding as well. It also left other students from their McKinley days because if there was a camera crew in Lima, most likely, everyone who knew Quinn and Rachel or knew of Quinn and Rachel, would want to talk. And that's exactly what they didn't want to happen.
Naturally, the camera crew would edit anything bad out; the goal of the studio was to show Rachel and Quinn in a positive light. But that wouldn't stop other Lima residents from taking to the internet to tell their side of things or gush to the lingering paparazzi. Quinn was concerned over the fact that it wasn't something she considered before. She blamed Rachel inwardly—or the world-wind that was her feelings for the diva. So they had to run damage control. By any means necessary. Currently, they were arguing over where to start first.
"I see no reason why I must accompany you to Santana and Brittany's. We'll split up, you go there, and I go see Noah."
"Absolutely not! You will be alone with Puckerman over my dead body!"
"Well you're coming with me to Kurt's; I'm terrified I will crack under the pressure!"
"And I think it's best if he doesn't see us together until much later; preferably while he's distracted by wedding gowns and tuxedos."
"You should go see Mike; I think I've only spoken to him once and I was highly intoxicated at the time."
"I don't think I've ever spoken to him at all!"
"Wait…Quinn! Where are you taking us?" Rachel shrieked as they pulled up to the apartment complex. "Quinn Fabray! You are manipulative and sneaky and-and-and mean!"
Quinn yanked the keys from the ignition and hurriedly got out of the car to pull Rachel out. "Rachel!" Quinn yelled and gritted her teeth as the diva twisted and turned out of Quinn's grip. "Come on!"
"NO! You can't make me, you can't make me!"
Five minutes later Quinn and Rachel were standing outside of the call box that led into Santana and Brittany's apartment building. They were both silently staring at the button that was labeled "Lopez/Pierce."
"Okay…rock, paper, scissors." Quinn finally said firmly. She positioned her hands accordingly and looked up only to find Rachel frowning. "What?"
"Rock, paper, scissors?"
"Yeah, Rach, rock, paper, scissors. Let's do this."
"Quinn, for the time being, I will look over the fact that rock, paper, scissors is the most inane idea for decision making, and clearly point out that there is no concrete reason why I have to go up there. They're in your wedding party and they were your friends."
"She was never my friend."
"She was as close to a friend as either one of you could have had."
"That sounded like an insult."
"That's because it was one."
"Rach!"
"Let's not gloss over the fact that you were a bit of a self-centered bitch in high school, Quinn."
"Rachel!" Quinn admonished as she crossed her arms over her chest with a petulant frown.
Rachel only shrugged. "I'm just keeping it real."
"For the time being, I will look over the fact that 'I'm just keeping it real' is the most inane expression coming from you. It's not like I chose Santana and Brittany for my wedding party, and Brittany wasn't all that bad in high school so-"
"She was hardly good."
"Fine, but please don't make me go in there by myself. I really, really don't think I can deal with Santana after the day we've had."
"I thought we had a delightful day."
"And we did…up until now, and I just really can't handle Santana without you. And since you refuse to up there and I don't feel it's fair that I'm automatically supposed to, I'm suggesting rock, paper, scissors." Rachel grew quiet, arms folded, as she stared up at Quinn with a frown.
"I still feel rock, paper, scissors is ridiculous."
"Why?"
"Because, Quinn," Rachel roared as she threw her hands up in the air. "Rock covers paper? What? The rock can't break through? It doesn't have sharp edges? The physical weight of said rock can't deform the paper? It's preposterous. And furthermore, who's to say that the scissors are actually sharp enough to cut through the paper? What if it's a stack of paper? Are they child's safety scissors or are they sharpened could-be-lethal scissors? If your hand is a representation of the paper, wouldn't that imply that the paper is not one lonely piece, yet, a thick bundle? And how big is the rock? Is it a pebble? A boulder? Again, are the scissors a child's and the rock the size of the Grand Canyon? There are so many unanswered questions and too much that is left up to interpretation to make the game a plausible and an effective way of making decisions!"
Quinn's face was blank as she stared back at Rachel silently. "May I offer a counter-game?" Quinn made a sweeping gesture with her arm for Rachel to continue. "My fathers and I invented a decision-making game of our own: Fist, mask, slippers."
Quinn blinked once as she stared down at Rachel. The diva was quickly explaining. "The fist, or rock, signifies the big fight-scene in West Side Story. The mask, or paper, represents Phantom of the Opera, and the slippers, or scissors, are the ruby slippers from Wicked. You present your sign and then use cool logic as an argument as to why your symbol would best win in a fight against your opponent's. Completely reasonable."
Quinn continued to stare blankly at Rachel until she finally shrugged. "That sounds fine."
Rachel beamed happily up at Quinn, pleased that her suggestion and its intelligence weren't lost on her fiancée. "Lovely!"
"Okay, we'll close our eyes, count to three, and present our sign. Sound good?" Rachel nodded happily as her eyes slid closed. "One, two-" Before getting to three, however, Quinn bent down and scooped Rachel up and over her shoulder.
"Quinn!" The blonde pushed open the door that led to the building and quickly scaled the steps as Rachel shouted her protests. "But they were mean to me! Meaaaan, Quinn, meaaaaan!"
Quinn pounded on the apartment door as she set a pouting Rachel down. "That was terrible, Quinn, and I will never forgive you for this!" She hissed as she folded her arms. Quinn sighed and bent down slightly to be on eye level with Rachel. She cupped Rachel's face and stared at her intently.
"I can't do this without you. I can't do anything without you. I need you with me to confront them. Please don't be mad at me." It was Rachel's turn to sigh as her arms dropped to her sides. Well how the hell am I supposed to argue with that? So she didn't. Instead, Rachel just nodded silently and steeled herself for what was about to come. They both did.
They exchanged nervous glances as they heard Santana's voice from inside, claiming that she'd be there in just a minute. "We can always back out of this. No one has to know. We'll just skip town. We'll get new friends. Change our names. I don't have to sing on Broadway. I hear they're doing lovely things in Europe."
Quinn smirked to herself, picturing her and Rachel on the lamb…together. Just the two of them. She so effing loves me. But then the sound of a lock turning snapped her attention back to the door and without thinking, Quinn blindly reached out for Rachel's hand and slid in front of the diva as if she could protect her. She felt the reassuring squeeze back and felt stronger knowing that she and Rachel were in it together.
Both Quinn and Rachel swallowed thickly as the dark eyes of Santana Lopez stared back at them through the thin crack of the doorway. The security chain was still latched and all three of them were quiet as they stared at one another.
"So…" Santana drawled out as she placed a hand on her hip, her tone playful in its calm-before-the-storm way. "Little Rachel Berry and big bad Quinn Fabray came back to Lima." She chuckled ruefully and tapped her nails on the door jam.
Rachel's worried eyes found Quinn's as she stood just behind the blonde. She moved closer to Quinn, ready to grab her just in case Santana ripped open the door and attacked. Rachel wouldn't put it passed Santana to be that kind of crazy.
"Alllll these years." Santana sighed, her nails continuingly tapping away. "Thought I saw the last of your sorry asses after graduation. But no. Here you are again." Quinn's eyes narrowed as she heard Santana's voice hitch slightly. "Back in Lima. Back here. On my doorstep."
Rachel shifted uncomfortably as she frowned, unsure why Santana seemed to be losing her evil steam. "Just like old times." Quinn's head cocked as Santana sniffled. "All together again." Rachel pressed against Quinn's back as tears started to well in Santana's eyes. "Getting married. Falling in love."
Suddenly, the door was ripped open and Santana's arms were solidly around Quinn, and in turn, a shrieking Rachel, as she heaved giant sobs and clung to both girls. "Falling in love and getting married!" This was the only audible thing she really got out. Quinn twisted her neck to stare down at the horrified Rachel as Santana continued to cry openly on her shoulder. They caught phrases like "together," and "in love," and "so happy," and "maid of honor." It was decidedly awkward.
But then it all made sense and Quinn gasped loudly when she felt it. "Oh my, God."
"I'm just so happy to see you guys!" Santana wailed, damping Quinn's shoulder with her tears…and she may have drooled a little too. Santana finally pulled away and she used one palm to cup Quinn's cheek and the other to cup Rachel's as tears continued to spill. Quinn was frozen as her wide eyes dropped down, but Rachel hadn't realized yet, still firmly attached to Quinn's back as Santana looked happily between the two.
"I told Brittany, I said, 'Brits, I knew Quinn got me, ya know. I knew she would understand that how I was in high school was just my way of telling everyone how much I cared!' And here you are! You got it! And you made me your maid of honor! I knew you would get it, Q, I knew it!"
Quinn was still paralyzed as Santana threw her arms around her neck. She remained in Santana's hold as the girl carried on with her sobs, stationary as she tried to grasp what was going on. "Rachel!" Santana cried out against Quinn's shoulder. "We had such a great friendship!" Rachel was almost positive that when Quinn carried her up the stairs, she must have dropped her and this was all a big hallucination. Did Santana Lopez just say that we had been friends? She was far too stunned by that announcement to move out of Santana's grasp, so she stayed pinned to Quinn's back, thankful for the contact from Quinn. "Oh, how much fun we all had together!"
As Santana continued to sob, Quinn tried to find words. Rachel, of course, found them a little easier. "Is she sauced, Quinn? Severely intoxicated?"
Quinn was frantically shaking her head as Santana used her dress as a tissue, barely managing to breathe the word out. "Pregnant." Each syllable was laced with horror. "She's very pregnant."
Rachel gasped loudly and was finally able to pull out of Santana's grasp. "She's with spawn?" Rachel dropped her hands away from her wide-open mouth and pulled Quinn back and wrapped her arms around her waist protectively, almost as though she was afraid Quinn would catch it—it being pregnancy.
Sure enough, now that Quinn wasn't blocking her view, the huge baby bump was revealed and Rachel couldn't take her eyes off the sight. It didn't help that Santana was only wearing a beater that stretched tightly just above her navel.
Santana gave the gaping pair a watery smile as she rubbed her protruding stomach. "Isn't it exciting?" Was all she got out before she exploded into another round of tears—these were less cheerful.
Quinn and Rachel traded anxious looks before Rachel sprang into action. She moved around Quinn and quickly took Santana's hand. "It's very exciting, Santana." Rachel said, speaking extremely slowly. "We're very happy for you." Rachel glanced over at Quinn and gave the panicked girl a reassuring nod, before she continued on, still speaking as slowly as possible. "It was so good to see you again and we look forward to seeing you at our wedding, as well. Tell Brittany we say hi." She gave Santana the biggest smile she could before she dropped the girls hand and mumbled for Quinn's ears only, "Let's get the hell out of here."
Neither girl hesitated to turn, but Rachel winced as she felt Santana's hand on her arm. "You're leaving?" Santana asked as her bottom lip trembled.
Quinn's eyes closed painfully as she fought off a whimper of protest. The idea of spending time with a very pregnant Santana didn't seem pleasing. "No. We're staying." She answered with a sigh.
Rachel pouted up at Quinn in despair. The blonde only shrugged back and shot Rachel a look that clearly said "What the hell was I supposed to say?"
But it was music to Santana's ears. The tears immediately stopped as she was smiling brightly. "I'll make a snack!"
A few minutes later, Rachel and Quinn were sitting on a lumpy couch in the small apartment as Santana moved about the kitchen a room over. "Who do you think the father is?" Rachel whispered, sitting as close to Quinn as possible.
Quinn blew out a breath and shook her head. "The possibilities are endless."
"But the studio said that she and Brittany were living together. I just assumed-"
"So did I. Who the hell knows, maybe they are."
"You don't think Santana would deceive Brittany into thinking…"
"The possibilities are endless, Rach, endless." Both girls grew quiet as Santana bustled into the room, still sniffling, but smiling widely.
"Would you like some help, Santana?" Rachel asked as she half rose from her seat. Santana waved her off and dropped a tray onto the coffee table in front of Quinn and Rachel, and both girls scooted to the edge of the couch to inspect the Ritz crackers and can of Easy Cheese that sat on top of it.
"Oh! I almost forgot." Santana raced off as fast as she could, and came back into the living room with a pitcher of something red inside. "Kool-Aid." She filled in with a smile before she took a seat in the armchair next to the couch.
"It looks…delicious." Quinn told Santana with a pained smile.
"A lovely spread." Rachel added as she bobbed her head.
"If I had known you were coming I would have told Brit to get Triscuits."
Both Rachel and Quinn hummed their fake disappointment and an awkward silence filled the room. Neither girl knew what to say or how to act, so they settled for staring down at their laps. That was until they heard Santana crying again. "You're not hungry." The girl whined as fresh tears fell.
"No! It's not that! We just had a really big lunch…"
"And we're both kind of vegan, and…" But Santana's sobs grew in volume until Rachel grabbed the Easy Cheese can and sprayed several crackers before shoveling them over to Quinn.
"Just eat them, just eat them." Rachel hissed to Quinn before she beamed up at Santana. "See? Quinn loves them, don't you Quinn?"
Quinn nodded as she shoved the crackers in her mouth, smiling and nodding as she rubbed her stomach in fake appreciation. "Yummy." For the moment, Santana looked appeased, and everyone grew quiet again.
"So…Santana," Rachel ventured, hoping to move the reunion along a little. "Where is Brittany?"
Santana pulled a tissue out of her cleavage and dabbed at her eyes. Thankfully, however, she was smiling at the mention of Brittany's name. "She teaches hip-hop and aerobics at the YMCA, Curves, and Anytime Fitness." Both Quinn and Rachel were happy to have found a topic that made Santana so happy. "She's at the Y right now."
"That's great, S."
"Yeah. She has the most popular classes." Santana said with a watery smile that showed her pride.
"And what do you do, Santana?" Instantly, Rachel knew she had said the wrong thing. The tears were back. The bad kind.
"I work at Lima Energy." Santana sobbed.
Panicking, Quinn and Rachel were quick to stop the crying. "S, that's a really great job."
"There is plenty of room for advancement!"
"It's steady and that's important."
"But we're having a baby!" Santana wailed as she blew her nose into a tissue.
"And that's so exciting, right Quinn?" Rachel asked as she nudged her fiancée. Quinn stuffed another cracker into her mouth and nodded vigorously.
The tears slowed and Santana smiled softly. "B's really excited." She hiccupped.
"As she should be." Rachel declared enthusiastically. As the silence stretched, Rachel was finding it difficult to leave her statement at just that. She twisted on the spot and bit her lip while Quinn forced cracker after cracker down. "And how exactly did you come by your pregnancy, Santana?"
Quinn groaned as she covered her face with her hands, extremely worried that Rachel's newest inquiry would set off further waterworks. "You don't have to answer that."
"No, it's fine, it's fine." Santana mumbled as she brushed away her remaining tears. "It's a happy story, actually." Santana grinned. She sprayed some cheese onto a cracker and stuffed it into her mouth. "My uncle died."
Rachel shook her head as she tried to catch up. "And…he was…evil?" Rachel asked as carefully as possible as she shrugged at Quinn. The blonde just shook her head miserably.
"He was a badass Lopez." Santana explained fondly as she swallowed down some Kool-Aid. "He was a doctor like my dad; plastics." Quinn nodded as she recalled where Santana got her D-cups in high school. "After I came out to my family, he was the only one that supported me and B. When he died," Santana's eyes welled up again but she quickly got a hold of herself. "He left B and I a shit-ton of money and his sperm."
Simultaneously, Quinn and Rachel cocked their heads at the recent development and their eyes narrowed, both silently wondering if they had, perhaps, misheard. Stuffing another cracker in her mouth, Santana continued. "B was really excited that we could have a baby together. And with the money he left us, we were able to swing the procedure."
"So…and I'm sorry for interrupting you here, but…are you…having your uncle's…baby."
Santana blanched. Slowly, her finger rose as her neck snapped. "Just because you and Q are related in some weird 'Who's your baby mama way,' don't mean me and Brits are down with that weird-ass shit."
Quinn and Rachel froze at the remark, but just as quickly as it came, Santana's attitude was gone and she was teary-eyed again. "I'm so sorry you guys! It's the hormones." Both girls smiled tightly as Santana blew her nose loudly. "We used B's egg and my baby maker. That way the kid has a little of both of us, ya know, because it's Lopez sperm."
Rachel smiled as she nodded. "That's basically what Quinn and I are going to do." Slowly, Quinn turned to look at her fiancée as her eyebrow rose. Rachel quickly caught her slip-up and cleared her throat. "Well that's a lovely story, Santana. You both must be thrilled."
More tears came as Santana nodded. "We are." She mumbled around a cracker. "I just don't know how we're going to afford it!"
Quinn rubbed her face as Santana's sobs echoed around the apartment. "You've got to be kidding me." She breathed out in exasperation to Rachel.
"We were just so excited that we could start a family together. Thank you," Santana said as Rachel passed her the box of tissues that was beside her. "The doctor told us the longer we waited the less chance it would happen for us because the nasty-shit can go bad, you know? And the odds of someone else just handing over their stuff to us would be slim, so we just went for it."
Rachel was nodding sagely. "That was really brave of you, Santana. And I've read all the books and they say the same thing: there is no right time to have kids."
"That's what we thought. And B is fucking through the moon so I don't say anything. But I'm always so tired and after I have the little fucker I won't be working and we'll need money and I can't make B quit teaching for a better job because she loves it so much, so we're just going to be broke with a kid!"
Quinn stared at Rachel pointedly, silently communicating to the diva that she was upset the subject ever got brought up, before she turned back to Santana. "S, just calm down for a second, okay?" Santana nodded miserably into her tissue. "I have a lot of connections in New York and even L.A. Brittany is so talented I'm sure I can-"
Santana's arms were around Quinn's neck before she could even finish the sentence. "Thank you so much, Q!" Rachel felt an arm hook around her neck before she was being pulled in to another awkward three-person hug. "I missed you guys so much! And I can't wait to watch you get married and give my speech and stand next you at the altar and plan your bachelorette party and…"
Quinn traded glances with Rachel—they both looked like they were ready to cry as well… in the bad way—as Santana continued to list all the fun things she was looking forward to.
They left the Lopez-Pierce residence not long after that. They were both exhausted and more than ready to just call it a day.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you guys about Santana, but honestly, I just completely forgot." Mercedes amended sheepishly. Quinn eyed her friend as she folded her arms.
"You forgot?" Mercedes shrugged. "You forgot that Santana Lopez is hugely pregnant with Brittany and her uncle's baby? That just slipped your mind?"
Again, Mercedes only shrugged. "But that's the worst of it. It's not like everyone else is a weeping mess like Santana."
Rachel slowly got off of Quinn's lap and stared down at Mercedes. "Oh really?"
"What?" Mercedes asked as her eyes shifted nervously.
Rachel placed her hands on the table and leaned forward. "No one else, Mercedes?"
"You two haven't seen everyone yet, right?" Mercedes asked hesitantly as she bit her lip, sinking into her chair fearfully.
X
Four hours earlier…
"I'm so glad you guys are here! When I'm not working at the bank, I've been choreographing all these dances for Sam's boy band! You got to see them perform! Then Quinn, you can be our agent and we'll get a huge record deal and I'll travel on the road with them and make millions of dollars, and…"
Rachel and Quinn's wide eyes just stared at Mike as they forced their smiles to remain in place, periodically smiling and nodding at a proud Mrs. Chang as the old woman rocked in her seat.
X
Three and half hours ago…
"Perhaps I embellished a tad when I said I was a senior makeup artist. If you must know, I am a regional sales associate. But I'd be remiss if I didn't inform you that Avon is making a comeback. Many celebrities are turning to our vast catalogues for products and tips. Any day now, I'm sure, I'll be made senior VP in charge of designs and trends. Mark my words, they'll rue the day they ever made Kurt Hummel go door to door selling their trash! …You don't, perchance, need anyone to do your makeup for the wedding do you? I think it would be an excellent demonstration for my portfolio."
Kurt stared intently at the girls as he sipped on his margarita, and Quinn and Rachel traded panicked looks before turning back to him.
"Um, I don't see why we couldn't…?"
"I think our other makeup artist is really mean or something so…?"
"Fantastic. I know exactly what I want to do. It will be years in the making!" Kurt giggled as he kicked his legs up in his seat. Quinn and Rachel could only smile tightly back.
X
Two and a half hours ago…
"If you want me to keep my mouth shut, I'm going to need a crate of Mo's Dark Chocolate Bacon bars and I want to be the head of Mercedes' security detail when she makes it big. Deal?"
"Wait a minute…" Quinn said firmly as she held up her hand. Both Lauren and Rachel stared at her, waiting for the blonde to protest. "They make bacon-covered chocolate bars?"
"Mercedes, it was a horror show! Mike works at a bank and lives at home, Kurt works for freaking Avon, Lauren is a crossing guard and she hates children, Tina has a stutter for real now that she's teaching at Jane Adams, Sam is in a boy band, Brittany and Santana are basically impoverished with a child on the way, and Artie hasn't known the touch of a woman since Brittany! I know because he told us…five times!"
Mercedes bit her lip and avoided the girls' eyes. "So when are Matt, Jesse, Lydia, and Jeremy getting into town?" She asked evasively.
"Why didn't you tell us? Everyone was so sad and pathetic! My freaking client list just doubled! I'm like, the agent for Lima, Ohio!"
"Sorry guys, we didn't all get out of Lima and hit it big. We're all just a bunch of normal twenty-one year olds finishing up college and looking for what to do next. While you guys were off doing something with your lives, we all had to struggle. I'm lucky, my parents are able to help me pay for college, but not everyone else has it so good. Our biggest problems aren't the paparazzi following us around or our old friends asking for help."
Rachel sighed as she collapsed back down on Quinn's lap tiredly. She suddenly felt very guilty. "We're sorry."
"Rach, you got nothing to be sorry for. You both worked really hard to get where you are and I'm so proud of you for that. And plus, Quinn told me she's got the head of New York's only recording studio coming out for the wedding to meet me. So we good as far as I'm concerned. Everyone else just needs a little help too."
Quinn's chin dropped to Rachel's shoulder miserably. "But I don't wanna help everyone else."
Mercedes laughed. "Tough. You wanna keep them quiet, meet their demands. And plus guys, we're not in high school anymore. They're not so bad."
Rachel looked over her shoulder at Quinn and smiled. They hadn't been that bad, in fact, everyone just seemed really excited to see them. Maybe it was because they were sorta famous, but it also seemed as though they had just missed them. High school was over, and both girls could agree that they no longer held a grudge towards any of the gleeks. "So you didn't mention Puck and Finn." Well…most of the gleeks.
Simultaneously, both girls sighed deeply. "We didn't even bother seeing Finn." That wasn't completely true.
X
Four and a half hours ago…
Rachel and Quinn reclined back against the car with their coffees warming their hands as they both stared straight ahead. "It's drizzling." Quinn muttered, mostly to herself, but Rachel heard and nodded.
"I know." They both simultaneously took a sip of their coffees as they stared. Rachel was wearing a bright yellow raincoat with matching galoshes and her blonde wig while Quinn was in her red wig and her white trench coat as she held a floral umbrella over their heads. They had only donned their disguises because neither was sure if they actually wanted to see Finn. So just in case, they had an out.
"It's probably going to rain for the wedding." Quinn mumbled evenly.
"Hmmm." Rachel sighed as she tilted her head, waiting for any kind of emotion to hit her as she watched her ex boyfriend work on a car in the garage at Hummel & Son-Tires and Lube. "Do you want to skip this and go see someone else?" Rachel asked calmly, not really in the mood to deal with Finn Hudson.
Quinn smiled with a shrug and escorted Rachel over to the passenger side of the car with the umbrella carefully covering them both. Once she was behind the wheel of the car, she looked over at Rachel and smiled. "He doesn't look so good." Rachel chuckled as Quinn put the car in drive.
"Just drive, Fabray."
"So you didn't even speak to the boy?"
Rachel shrugged and allowed Quinn to hold her closer. "Didn't really feel like it."
"What's the point?" Quinn added.
Mercedes chuckled as she shook her head. "Well I can't say I blame ya, after everything you two have gone through with him. But what about Puck?"
"Quinn doesn't want to see him."
"Ooohhh no, you don't get to say that." Quinn scolded. "I said I'd go see him-"
"You said you'd go see him while I visited Tina! That's hardly the same thing!"
"Well I didn't think it would be appropriate to have you there, I'm-"
"You don't think it would be appropriate because you know that he's going to pour his little heart out to you and you don't want to make him uncomfortable, but I don't think it's appropriate for you to be alone with him because Puckerman-"
"You just don't me to be alone with Puck because you think he'll try something and-"
"I know he'll try something that's why I thought you would want me there so-"
"You're not going within a hundred feet of Puck because he'll defiantly try something with you and-"
"Absolutely absurd that you feel that way! I don't see the harm if we're both there to make sure the other-"
"Both of us? Are you kidding? I won't be able to stomach listening to all the grotesque things I'm sure he'll say to us and-"
"Enough!" Quinn and Rachel's mouths shut tightly as they turned back to Mercedes. The girl's eyes had followed the argument back and forth until she finally needed to intercede. "You two already fight like an old married couple." She laughed. "Look, Rach, tomorrow you'll see Puck at the fitting, and before you freak out Quinn, I'll make sure Mike and Kurt keep a close eye on her. Then, later that day, you and me can go pay Puck a visit and I'll be there to protect your wifey, okay, Rach?"
Both girls nodded silently, happy that they had bodyguards for the uncomfortable situation. "I like that." Rachel stated with a smile.
"Good. It's a plan" Quinn mumbled as she draped Rachel's hair over one shoulder so she could place a soft kiss on the diva's neck. Rachel's eyes slammed shut and she urged her body not to go into over-drive.
"Um…no…not the plan. Well…the plan is amendable, I must admit. But I was actually referring to the nickname. Wifey. I like that."
Quinn giggled into Rachel neck, her lips brushing against tanned skin, and the diva fought off a moan of desire. "I don't think I see myself calling you wifey, Rach. Sorry."
"It's okay." Rachel said happily as she got up to take her I'm-sorry-your-lives-are-so-terrible-in-comparison-to-mine cookies out of the oven in an effort to get some distance between her and Quinn. "I was thinking more along the lines of calling you wifey."
Quinn reclined in her chair, her eyes solely on Rachel, as she bit her thumbnail to keep her smile from flying away.
Mercedes was too busy staring at Quinn's hand to see the adorable expression the blonde was wearing. "Girl, where the hell did you get that big-ass rock on your finger?"
"She got it from her wifey!" Rachel yelled back as she flipped her cookies off their tray.
X
The Berry men were already snoring—stuffed from their vegan pho with seitan that Quinn had made—as the girls finished up their folding and collapsed back onto the couch, exhausted. It had been a hell of a day. After only some slight fidgeting and adjusting, the girls were comfortable as they lay watching My Girl Friday, with Rachel pressed up against the back of the couch and Quinn pressed up against Rachel's front.
Charlene was expected soon, and although they were looking forward to seeing her, their eyes were getting heavy and the day was quickly catching up to them.
"Did you call the guy from the New York studio about Mercedes?" Rachel mumbled as her eyes grew heavy.
"Ugh, no. Thanks for reminding me." Quinn reached down to where her cell was in her purse on the floor and dialed the number while Rachel twirled her hair. As Quinn spoke to the man and set up his and Mercedes' meet at the wedding, Rachel allowed herself to just listen to Quinn's voice.
Something has changed within me, something is not the same.
Stop singing.
I'm not alone here, right, Quinn's acting differently, correct?
She's definitely upped her touchy feely ratio.
But why? It doesn't make any sense. It's one thing to do it in front of Mercedes or our fathers-
That was a hell of a kiss she gave us!
And all because I did the dishes for her? Absurd. I'm sure our fathers didn't need to see that! But it's quite another to do it while we are alone.
Blocking our faces from the cameras…she was so close…
And this whole business surrounding Puck, I just don't understand it. Why would she ever think that I couldn't be trusted around him? She's the one he was in love with.
It doesn't make sense…Unless…
Unless what?
Oh, come on. I know it's crossed your mind.
I'm not going there.
But-
No!
"Hey, you okay?" Quinn was off the phone and staring at Rachel with concern. The diva cleared her throat and smiled.
"Perfectly fine."
Quinn appraised her for a moment, knowing that Rachel was lying but clearly not ready to talk about it, before she finally nodded and turned back to the movie. "What I miss?"
Before Rachel could explain, there was a soft knock on the door. "That will be Charlene." Rachel said as she wiggled out from behind Quinn to answer the door.
"Hello, darling!" Charlene gushed and planted a kiss on both Rachel's cheeks before sweeping into the house.
"It's great to see you, Charlene." Rachel smiled as she led the woman into the living room.
"What a charming house your fathers have, Rachel. I can just see a miniature you running all around causing havoc." Quinn stood to hug Charlene as Rachel rushed off to get her a bottle of water.
They all took their seats, Quinn and Rachel on the couch with Charlene on the recliner, and Charlene got down to business. "Okay. Everything is taken care of, so you have nothing at all to worry about. It will look breathtaking as will both of you. All I need is to have you quickly go over the seating chart and I can leave you alone to promptly crash…which is what you both look like you moments away from doing."
The girls gave Charlene tired smiles and Rachel accepted the seating chart. Charlene got up from her chair and ambled around the room looking from picture to picture. She looked slightly out of place at the moment in her floor-length white silk dress, especially considering both Quinn and Rachel were in pajamas, but she was happy to see the girls again and delighted at looking at pictures of Rachel over the years, with a few of Quinn mixed in; there were mostly pictures from Rachel's birthday evening in New York including the engagement.
"Everything looks good." Quinn eventually said. In truth, she hadn't really paid attention. All she cared about was the fact that she and Rachel would be sharing a sweetheart table—it would be just the two of them amongst a sea of guests.
"Yep, it looks perfect." Rachel agreed and handed the chart back over to Charlene.
Charlene frowned at the girls and cocked her head. "I suppose neither of you read the chart too carefully, did you?"
Rachel and Quinn traded unsure looks. "What makes you say that?" Rachel asked politely. She hadn't. She was far too tired to care where everyone sat. She would be sitting with Quinn and that's all that mattered.
"Take another look at table five. I'm sure you'll have a problem with who is sitting with your fathers, Rachel."
With furrowed brows, Rachel and Quinn bent their heads back over the chart.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit, shit, damn it, damn it, DAMN IT!"