A/N: Thank you for reading, as always. Please keep reviews coming! I hope all of you are doing well out there.

-Raggy

Unpacking at her apartment or rushing home to Lima seemed terribly unimportant as she petted Jean Valjean and watched Quinn move around the kitchen in just a t-shirt and her underwear.

"Is there anything you can't do?" Rachel asked. "You can teach, you can fuck, you can sing, you can cook…"

Quinn shook her head. "Nope, I think I'm perfect, actually."

"It's a wonder you're single," Rachel said with a smirk. Quinn shot her a death glare.

"It's no wonder you are," she retorted. Rachel shrugged.

"I'm just too hot to handle," she said. "Hey, speaking of, what are you cooking over there?"

"Meat."

"Yum yum, my favie."

"No, really, just some pasta. I don't have too many vegan ingredients, but I remember you enjoy the fungi."

"Yes, that sounds delicious. Thank you, Quinn."

The blonde seemed very at ease as she chopped up mushrooms and some garlic and threw them in a pan. Perhaps it was the clothing (or lack thereof), but Rachel sensed a definite lightness in her step and her smile. She was quite positive no one would ever have been close enough to Quinn in high school to witness something like this.

The tiny disagreement they had yesterday had not reared its head again, thankfully – and Rachel didn't get how Quinn could think there was some barrier between them based on career paths and income levels. Gone were the days when she thought money and fame were the most important. Show business was brutal. It changed a girl. And she had met plenty of lower-class people who could sing and dance right over her. She knew Puck couldn't pay all of the electric at his apartment sometimes. And she really couldn't care less about who made how much doing what kind of work.

She was already looking forward to Christmas, just so she could spend more time with Quinn and try to convince her and her fathers to do Times Square. Knowing she was only going to be two hours from Quinn and from her new life in Columbus was going to be torture – but there was business to attend to and she wanted to spend time with her dad and daddy as well. Plus, she needed to ask them if it was all right for Quinn to come over, still…

"Did I lose you in there?" Rachel looked up.

"No, just swimming in my own thoughts." She smiled as Jean stretched and purred. "I'm looking forward to Christmas already, you know?"

"I'll be happy when they get all those songs off of my radio." Quinn stirred the pot of noodles and dumped some tomato sauce in a pan. "What do you eat for Christmas dinner anyhow?"

"Probably not ham, but that's not the point." Quinn arched an eyebrow. "Don't make me write it down or anything, Fabray. I'm excited to see you again."

Quinn took a breath. "I've got to say, it's going to be hard not to drive up there early…"

Rachel beamed at her. "So you're excited?"

"Yes," she said simply.

"What are you doing for New Year's?" Rachel asked casually.

"Uh. I guess hanging out with you?"

Rachel could barely contain a giggle. "Plan on it, okay?"

"Sure."

Yes. Step one: make sure Quinn was available.

The food was beginning to make Rachel's stomach growl, and soon they were both tucking in to a pasta lunch. Rachel swore it was one of the best meals she had in a while, which made Quinn blush.

"No seriously, I never get home-cooked meals," she said. "I barely even cook for myself because I can't really cook."

"Well, I'll teach you. You'll need to survive in the wilds of Columbus."

Jean Valjean began getting too close to Rachel's bowl for her comfort, so she set him down. Quinn shook her head.

"I can't believe I let that thing in," she said through a mouthful of pasta.

"Fuck off, you love him."

"Don't swear around him!" Quinn picked him up and covered his tiny ears. "He's a baby. He doesn't need to pick up your Brooklyn swagger."

Rachel scoffed. "Swagger? Thank you, 2011 version of Justin Bieber. He's a street cat, anyhow. He's a tough guy."

"Oh, I thought he was a cute little baby." Quinn set him back down. "Go play, you little fucker."

Rachel couldn't help but continue to study Quinn as they ate, soaking in her presence before they said goodbye for a few days. The past few days had been a blur – new apartment, trip to the zoo, cuddling and sex in a matter of two days. She had really enjoyed it, and it seemed as if the pretty blonde across from her had, as well.

She helped Quinn wash the dishes, and chatted idly about the latest and greatest YouTube bits they had seen. By that time it was after noon. She sighed and took the taller woman's hands in hers.

"I really should go," she said. "I told them I'd be back to decorate the house this afternoon. They're terrible at it."

"You don't need a shower or anything?"

"No, I can just get one at home…" It was kind of cute, really, how she was asking Rachel to stay a little longer. But Rachel knew she should hit the road or she would never leave.

Quinn smiled. "All right… Sunday, right? What time?"

Rachel shrugged. "Daddy usually goes to church at like eleven, and Dad and I stay home to cook. We eat around three or four. Puck and his mom usually show up around one or something."

"Well, I'll go with him."

"What?"

"I'll go with your daddy to Christmas Mass." Rachel's jaw dropped. Quinn smiled and shrugged at her. "It's Christmas. I should go, too. And I think it would give us an opportunity to talk. He's the quieter one?"

Rachel laughed. "Kind of. He frets a lot, but if everything is fine he's calm and doesn't say a whole lot. Are you sure that wouldn't feel awkward?" She was surprised at Quinn's offer.

"Rachel, it's Christmas."

"True, but…"

"Do you not think they'll like me?"

"No, no…" She reached up and tucked a strand of Quinn's blonde hair behind her ear. But it was a lie, sort of. She didn't really know how Michael would react, but she was really just surprised at how willing Quinn was to get to know her family all of a sudden. She leaned up and kissed her softly. "It just surprised me, is all. I know you were worried about meeting them, and now you want to go to Mass with Mikey. I think he'll love it."

She could tell Quinn was still a little concerned. "I promise," Rachel said, and kissed her again. "I think it's a great idea."

Quinn returned the kiss, hesitantly. "They know I'm coming, right?"

"…huh? Uh…"

"Rachel. You didn't tell your dads you invited me yet?"

"I've barely been home, Quinn…"

The hazel eyes darkened. "I know they remember my name from high school and how terrible I was to you. And unless you are reinventing me as someone else, they're going to know who I am when I step into that door. If they don't know yet…"

"I'm going to tell them!"

"I'm not going to plan on showing up until I know I'm welcome in your house, Rachel! The last thing I want to do is start a fight between you and me, or me and your parents, or you and your parents. I know they love you and are protective of you. So I'm a little worried to show up because the name Quinn Fabray probably doesn't conjure up good images." She sighed and held out her hand. "Give me your phone."

"Huh?"

"You heard me, Gretchen Wieners." Rachel quirked a smile at the obvious Mean Girls reference. "Give me your phone."

"You're not going to tell them you're Susan from Planned Parenthood, right, Regina? That would be so not fetch." Rachel tried to sound like she was joking, but inside she was terrified. Quinn wants to call my dads? This earned a snort, but Quinn still had her hand out expectantly.

"Quinn…seriously, I'll tell them."

"Rachel, I'm going to be freaking about it until I know." And Rachel believed her, because she remembered how neurotic Quinn could get when something was bothering her. She handed the phone over, and chewed her lip as Quinn searched it.

"Don't bite your lip at me like that," she said evenly.

"Which one are you calling?"

"Your daddy. I need to make sure he won't have a panic attack when I tell him we're going to church together." She put the phone to her ear and leaned against the counter.

"Hello? …no, this isn't… No, Rachel's fine, Mr. Berry. I'm standing with her right now. Mr. Berry, this is Quinn Fabray. I'm sure you remember me from Rachel's high school." She paused, and Rachel almost envisioned her daddy sweating as he realized whom he was speaking to. "Yes sir, I'm doing well, how are you? …good. Mr. Berry, your daughter and I are back to being friends again after our ten-year hiatus, and she invited me to your Christmas with the Puckermans, apparently, without asking you. …yes, really. And I know that I probably don't have a very good reputation with you and your husband, so I wanted to clear it with you." She looked at the ceiling as she said this. The kitten pawed at her socks, and she knelt to pet him.

Michael was either thinking a lot, or had a lot to say. "Well, absolutely," Quinn continued, "But I wanted to make sure I wasn't going to invade the family holiday with my presence. I know how important you and the other Mr. Berry are to Rachel. …yes sir, of course…yes." She continued to pet the purring Jean Valjean as Rachel strained her ears to hear any part of what her daddy was saying. "..okay. Well, thank you so much, Mr. Berry. Oh, and one more thing? Rachel said you usually go to Mass on Christmas. …do you mind if I accompany you? I haven't really been in a long time. I promise I won't sing too off key. Yes sir. Eleven? All right. Thank you, Mr. Berry. See you soon."

She hung up and handed the phone back to Rachel, and then scooped up the cat and proceeded to coo at him a little bit. Rachel couldn't stand it.

"What did he say?"

"He said hi and wondered when you were going to come back," Quinn said as she tickled Jean under the chin. "Hey, this guy is cute. I'm glad I made you keep him."

"Quinn I'm serious."

"So am I. He totally asked when you were coming back." Rachel was being tortured and she knew it, so she crossed her arms and scowled at Quinn. "Aw, come on. He said it was all right! I'm just joking around with you, Berry."

Rachel couldn't help but smile. "I figured, but I was still worried he might have, like, told you no." She walked over and put her head on Quinn's shoulder. "Thank you."

"For what? Giving Michael Berry some more grey hairs?"

"Quinn, no, you know what I mean. I appreciate that you're coming."

"Well, you're welcome. You're lucky to have been raised in such an open family. Your daddy sounds like a good guy, and I talked to him for a few minutes. I know how important they are to you."

Am I important to you? Rachel wanted to ask, but she held the question. They way Quinn spent a moment just holding her as they said goodbye was a bit of an indication.