Hello everyone! I'm sorry I'm updating a few days later than usual, but I've actually been pretty unwell these last few days. Nothing serious, thank God, but I wasn't physically able to do much. In fact, I even missed two whole days of watching Wimbledon from the comfort of my couch because I couldn't bear to look at the bright television screen. I kid you not!
Many people might think of this next chapter as sort of pointless, but I have really written it because I received a few requests to show how Quinn does at the Olympics. So, faithful readers, please consider this chapter a 'filler' of sorts, an insight into Rachel's head right now, if you please. As I have mentioned in the dialogue itself (which you will discover for yourselves), I do expect the women to start interacting more now that they're all competing at the same level of tournaments. It was important for me, as a tennis fan, to get them there organically, which might explain a lot about the previous 20 chapters.
Before I hit the 'Upload' button, I wanted to once again thank everyone that has favourited or followed the story and/or myself. I was pleasantly surprised at the number of follows A Perfect Match received after the most recent chapter, and even more so at the number of people who were previously merely following the story that chose to take a leap and favourite it as well. It made me mucho happy.
I hope to update later this week, but it depends on how I'm feeling. I'll do my best, I promise. And yes, I'll also reply to the feedback everyone's been kind enough to send in later this week too. As always, your comments and criticism have been noted and considered :)
Now, how about ya'll read the update while I take a nap?! Happy reading!
Rachel dropped her gym bag on the floor before unceremoniously plopping herself down on the large leather couch.
"You smell," Leroy remarked, not taking his eyes off the television set while he flipped through channels.
Rachel stretched her achy legs out, resting them on the coffee table before her, "Love you too, Papa" she deadpanned, earning a chuckle from her father. She watched as he skipped past a men's handball match, a shooting event that Rachel couldn't grasp the specifics of in the time it took her Papa to change channels and an event that included horse's, before settling back on the handball match.
"I don't get it," Leroy complained, "three channels covering the Olympics, and not one of them is showing the tennis! A gold medal match featuring an American, at that! It's absurd!"
Rachel nodded, silently agreeing with her father. She checked the schedule on her phone, and verbally confirmed that the match had begun. Leroy muttered angrily under his breath and switched channels again, bypassing the shooting event for a second time. Rachel let out a happy yelp when he hit the forward button one more time and Quinn Fabray's determined face filled the big screen.
"Ooh! It's on, it's on!" she said, sitting up straight. The young brunette scanned the score, noting that Quinn and Fleur Delacour were locked at one game apiece in the first set. Rachel guessed it was likely that the World No. 1 and her opponent, the freshly crowned Wimbledon champion, had both held their opening service games.
John McEnroe confirmed her thoughts moments later, "If those opening service games are anything to go by then both women have saved their best serves for this gold medal match."
Pat O'Brien's voice agreed with the former tennis star, "Yes, neither player has needed a second serve yet. I'm telling you Mac, this matchup might just end up living up to all the pre-match hype!"
The two men fell silent as a point was played, and resumed speaking when Delacour won the point, "Well, Fabray obviously thinks she has a thing or two to prove after her shockingly early departure from Wimbledon, and Delacour would definitely like to prove she can beat the very best at SW19. Someone pass me the popcorn," McEnroe added.
"For someone with a great insight on the game, McEnroe sure gives terrible commentary sometimes" Leroy said, "I mean, yes, what he's saying is valid, but it's really just stating the obvious."
Rachel hummed in agreement, watching, as Delacour served out another game to take a 2-1 lead. The camera panned to the audience, and the young brunette was surprised to see Finn Hudson seated beside Sue Sylvester in Quinn's box. The coverage didn't change cameras or angles for a couple of moments, and Rachel noted Quinn's entire support team was out in full force to back her. She recognized Elliot, Mike, Mercedes, Dave and Roz, and the only person she was unable to place was a young-ish blonde who bore a striking resemblance to Quinn. It didn't take a genius to work out the woman was related to the world's top player.
The commentator's began chatting again while the player's sat down before the change of ends, "That man needs no introduction to our viewers in the USA," O'Brien said.
"Yes, Finn Hudson is a football star back home, but in tennis circles he's better known as Quinn Fabray's boyfriend" McEnroe droned sagely.
"I thought those two haven't confirmed they're an item?" O'Brien said, sounding less certain than his counterpart.
"Oh yeah, they haven't. But it's practically an open secret. I mean, the guy's constantly showing up to her matches halfway around the world" McEnroe defended.
"I'm not sure that argument would hold up in court Mac", O'Brien laughed.
Rachel felt herself bristling at the exchange she had just been privy to. It was one thing for the paparazzi to jump to conclusions and spread falsehoods, but it was a whole other matter when members of tennis' elite added fuel to nonexistent fires. Her Papa was right; McEnroe's commentary was terrible!
Her phone buzzed, distracting her from her internal fuming. She glanced down at the text she'd received.
Brittany Pierce – You watching?
Rachel quickly typed out a reply, 'Duh!', and hit send.
Seconds later her phone buzzed again, but this time instead of words, Brittany had sent her a picture of her and Santana watching the match from somewhere inside Center Court. Rachel rolled her eyes, admitting to herself that yes, she was envious her friend was there and she wasn't. Then again, the Games were taking place in Brittany's hometown.
'Quit rubbing it in!' she texted her friend, before locking her phone again and turned her attention back to the screen, where the players were sitting down with the score at 3-2. The broadcast cut to another familiar face in the crowd, and Rachel groaned, wondering if NBC was intentionally encouraging it's commentators to indulge in gossiping like teenage girls.
As if on cue, McEnroe spoke up, "Well, Fabray isn't the only one with celebrity support in the house today. In fact, I'd say this man is the bigger draw on this side of the Atlantic."
"Oh yes," O'Brien agreed, "William Weasley is a superstar of the British Film Industry, and was actually just awarded an OBE for the Queen's birthday."
"Wow" McEnroe said.
"Yeah, and while we're still not sure if Fabray and Hudson are actually dating, Delacour and Weasley actually got engaged over the end of season break last year," O'Brien added, just as Quinn got in position to serve.
"Well, at least one of them is trying to stick to facts" Leroy commented, evidently thinking along the same lines as his daughter.
Rachel turned to her father as Quinn and her opponent hit the ball back and forth between them on screen, "I almost forgot! IMG sent me some investment options. Could you and Daddy take a look at them with me later?"
"Of course, sweetheart" Leroy smiled, "you know we're here to help."
His daughter smiled gratefully, before sliding along the couch and curling into her father's side. Leroy put an arm around her, even as he laughed, "God, you really do smell."
"Papa!" Rachel pouted, "It's Sheldon's fault. I think he was trying to kill me today! I could barely walk out of there on my own two feet today. It was like I was taken over by baby Bambi's spirit!"
Leroy roared out a laugh, "Sometimes I forget how theatrical you can be," he said, running his hand up and down Rachel's arm. The two watched the television in silence for a few moments, before the older Berry spoke up again, "Are you sure you'd rather look at stock options than property?"
Rachel leaned back, looking up at her father, "Yes Papa. I know I've already had a good year on tour, and I still can't believe how much money I've made in the space of just seven months. But I'm nowhere near ready to leave this house, our home, yet." She put up her hand to prevent what she knew her father was going to say, "And yes, I know I don't have to move out as soon as I buy a house, and that I can stay with you and Daddy till I'm old and grey, but I don't even want to have another option yet."
"You're the boss," Leroy said, wrapping his arm around his daughter again. "I'm curious though, does Jesse agree?"
Rachel let out a quiet huff at the mention of her new business manager and agent Jesse St. James. The IMG employee had gotten onto Rachel's nerves from the moment they'd met with his condescending ways, but there was no doubting the fact the man was good at his work. The tennis player had even checked with her new confidant Kurt Hummel, who had confirmed that Jesse was one of the tennis world's best agents at the moment, with a work ethic that more than made up for his less than desirable personality. While Rachel and Jesse failed to see eye-to-eye at the start of most of their meetings, she did appreciate that her agent wasn't a 'yes-man' who was happy to agree to everything she said, and the two were usually on the same page by the end of their meetings. In the twenty days since she'd signed with IMG, Rachel had added lucrative endorsement deals with Gatorade, American Express and Neutrogena to her existing contracts with Adidas and Babolat, and Jesse declared this was just the tip of the iceberg.
"Believe it or not, Jesse and I have agreed on this one from the word go" Rachel said.
"Stranger things have happened," Leroy smiled, "wow, what a shot!" he added, clearly amazed at the forehand Quinn just hit to level up the match at 3-all.
"Mmm, someone needs to break soon or this set is headed to a tie-break," Rachel said, before looking back at her Papa, "and yes, Jesse agreed that I should wait to see if I'm still playing consistently well through 2013, and then maybe revisit the idea of buying property at the end of next year."
"Fair enough," Leroy noted, "by the way, I keep forgetting to ask, how old is Jesse?"
"Twenty-six," the short brunette replied, "and very ambitious."
"You have to be, to be successful in the industry he's in," the older Berry pointed out. "Breakpoint for your friend."
The pair fell silent, their gazes fixed on the flat screen TV as the Frenchwoman threw the ball high up in the air, and sent a perfectly placed ace down the middle of Quinn's side of the court.
"And saved," Rachel said, letting out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.
"Have you ever met Delacour outside of your match at Wimbledon?" Leroy asked after the World No. 3 had held serve again.
Rachel shook her head, "Mmm-mm. I think I just missed her at the Adidas photo shoot in London. She was very nice at the net after she beat me though, and Brittany said she was lovely when they had a hit together before Wimbledon."
Rachel's phone went off, and she smiled at the new picture Brittany had sent her. Lifting the phone, she showed her father the image of a wide-eyed Brittany pretending to chew her nails from sheer stress while Santana's bemused face peered at the camera from over her shoulder. Leroy arched an eyebrow at the picture, "What's going on with those two?"
The teenager looked up at him with bright, excited eyes, before breaking out into a wide grin, "They're official!"
Leroy looked taken aback, "They're engaged?"
Rachel gently slapped his arm, "No Papa! Gosh, sometimes you act like you grew up in the Stone Age! They're exclusive. Santana asked Brit out," she clarified with a laugh.
"Wow, I really am old," Leroy said, his confusion replaced with a self-deprecating laugh, "being official meant something completely different in my day."
The father-daughter duo watched the end of another point, "The points are getting longer," Rachel observed, "its only a matter of time before someone pushes to break."
"So," Leroy spoke up after they quietly watched the match for a few minutes, "are Brittany and Santana going to tell the press? God knows Johnny Mac needs to get his fix of gossip."
"And you call me dramatic," Rachel giggled. "I don't actually think they've decided if they're going to tell the press just yet. Brittany isn't too keen on the idea of the paps asking her about their relationship. I mean, they've only just started dating. And anyway, she'd rather the focus stay on her tennis."
"Yeah, that isn't going to happen," Leroy said, "what about Santana?"
"She says she's used to the press being nosy ever since she came out, and is ok with whatever Brit decides," Rachel shrugged.
"Are there many couples on tour?" Leroy asked after a few moments, his tone genuinely curious.
"I really don't know," Rachel answered, his brow furrowed in thought. "I know there are a few ladies that like the ladies on tour, but I'm not sure if anyone's dating a fellow player. There must be though, right?"
Leroy gave a half-shrug as he bobbed his head up and down, "I sure would think so, at least statistically speaking."
Rachel still looked thoughtful, "And I guess it would be easier than a long distance relationship, I mean, as long as both people were playing at the same level. Which is why it's great that Brit's now playing at the Premier level too. She and Santana can play all the same tournaments, if they want to."
"It wouldn't necessarily be easier. You have to consider the fact that you'd be competing, seriously competing, against your partner. You'd have to have a very understanding relationship to survive that on a regular basis," Leroy stated, "God, the press will have a field day when Santana and Brittany compete, if and when they find out."
The young brunette shrugged, "Well, Santana and Quinn's friendship doesn't seem to affect their games, or vice versa, when they play against each other. And Venus and Serena seemed to go all out when they played against each other."
"I suppose" Leroy conceded.
"Ooh! Double breakpoint for Quinn" Rachel said, sitting up straight. She watched as Delacour served a fault, and literally jumped out of her seat when Quinn punished the Frenchwoman's weak second serve with a service winner down the line to win the game.
"And there's the break!" O'Brien exclaimed, "Fabray lead's 5-4 in the first." The footage switched to Quinn's box, where everyone was on their feet, clapping and shouting out words of encouragement to the player. At this point the host broadcaster decided to take the first commercial break of the entire match, so Rachel sat back down and muted the television.
She turned to see her father smiling at her. "I guess we all know who you're supporting tonight."
"Of course," Rachel said, as if it were obvious, "Team USA!"
The brunette's phone buzzed, and she unlocked it to see a slightly blurry picture of Santana half-standing from her seat, seemingly yelling something with her right hand raised in a fist pump. Rachel would wager that her blonde friend had taken the picture without her girlfriend realizing it.
Her attention was diverted when the front door opened, and her Daddy walked in, carrying two boxes of pizza. "Is the match over?" Hiram asked, in lieu of a proper greeting.
Rachel shook her head, grabbing the boxes from his hand, "No, Quinn's about to serve for the first set."
"Perfect timing then," Hiram said, dropping a kiss to the top of her head, and planting another one on his husband before sitting down on the couch. "Uh, Rach, when was the last time you showered?" he questioned, his light tone earning a giggle from Leroy, and an eye-roll from his daughter.
Rachel lifted the lid off of one of the boxes and quickly snapped a picture of the contents before sending it to Brittany. Her English friend loved New York pizza, and Rachel thought it was a fitting response to the jealously inducing messages her friend had been sending her in the last hour. Sure enough, her phone buzzed mere seconds later.
Brittany Pierce – Touché.
The brunette grinned before locking her screen and taking an enormous bite out of a cheesy slice of pizza. On screen, Quinn had won the first two points, and taken a 30-0 lead. Soon Rachel was cheering with a mouthful of pizza as the blonde wrapped up the first set 6-4.
"Swallow before you speak, Rach" Leroy laughed, before standing up. "Drink, anyone?" he asked.
"Do we have any Dr. Pepper?" Hiram asked, and received a nod from his husband.
"Just water, thanks, Papa" Rachel said, after she'd swallowed her food as requested.
"Coming up" Leroy said, and took off towards the kitchen.
"Oh, Daddy!" Rachel said, "did you remember to print my tickets?"
"Yeah, they're in my bag, by the door. Front zip" Hiram answered, nodding his head towards the bag.
"What time is your flight?" Leroy called out from the kitchen.
"8:50-something" the teenager answered back.
"Its not too bad" Hiram commented as Leroy walked back into the room, carrying the requested drinks.
"Yeah," Rachel agreed, "and I don't have to worry about changing time zones either."
"Just another reason to love Canada" Leroy threw in, opening his own can of soda with a pop!
"Wow, Quinn's on fire" Hiram said, watching the World No. 1 hit an overhead winner. "Has she been playing like this all throughout?"
Leroy shook his head, "No, she's definitely raised her level of play over the last few games."
"Impressive" Hiram said, taking a sip of his drink. "So, Rach, I emailed Shelby her tickets too. She should be at the hotel by the time you get there. And I CC-ed Jesse on the emails."
"Thanks Daddy," Rachel said, before sipping her water.
The threesome ate quietly for a while, watching as Quinn raced to a 4-0 lead. "Will everyone that competed at the Olympics be playing in Montreal next week?" Leroy asked, as if suddenly struck by the thought.
Rachel nodded, "Most of them, yes. It's a Premiere 5 tournament, so there are a lot of points at stake. Quinn won't be though. She has some legal stuff to do before her dad's trial."
"Mmm, I'm sure she'll be glad when that's over and done with" Hiram stated.
"And that's reminds me," Leroy chirped up, "Rachel wants us to look at some of the investment options IMG sent over with her."
"Oki dok," Hiram nodded, "after the match?" Rachel nodded.
The three Berry's ate in companionable silence, only breaking the quiet to comment on the quality of play every so often, until the three cheered as one when Quinn hit the winning shot to close out the second set 6-2. Rachel couldn't help but smile fondly at the television when the World No. 1 dropped her racket to the ground and covered her mouth with her hands, a look of sheer disbelief on her features. The winner turned to face her box as she raised her arms in the air, and the footage cut to her entourage, who were hugging one another and cheering wildly. The camera cut back to Quinn as she jogged over to the net to embrace Delacour, who was putting up a brave face. The two hugged, and in true French fashion Delacour kissed each of Quinn's cheeks before heading off to shake hands with the umpire.
Rachel could make out a small podium being set up in the background, while Quinn and her vanquished opponent slipped into their uniform jackets. The brunette shook her head, vaguely thinking about how strange it was to see so much colour on Wimbledon's courts. She doubted she'd ever get to see the sight again in her lifetime, what with the tournament's strict dress code. She was broken from her thoughts when Santana walked up to Quinn, dressed in the Spanish team's tracksuit, and the two embraced to the sound of cheers. The brunette sighed, not for the first time wishing she was on the other side of the screen.
Her father's must have sensed her mild distress, because Hiram wrapped his arm around his daughter and simply stated, "Just four years to Rio, sweetheart."
Rachel nodded, tucking herself into her Daddy and inhaling deeply. She would miss her father's when she was back on the road tomorrow, but at the same time, she couldn't wait to compete again.
Many players spoke of the gripping loneliness they felt because of the time they spent apart from their families, but in the past few weeks Rachel had realised that she couldn't count herself amongst their numbers. The teenaged American had found she had an insatiable thirst to succeed, which only fuelled her desire to battle it out against women whose ambitions matched her own. Unlike many young players, Rachel was honestly beginning to really enjoy life on the road, even the challenges it sometimes raised, and knew that the friendships she was forming contributed to her willingness to travel the world, playing tennis in stadiums packed with millions of strangers.
She watched as Santana, Delacour and, finally, Quinn lowered their heads and received their medals, and felt a strange affinity towards the smiling trio. And even more than that, she relished the prospect of facing them across the net again, proving to the world that she deserved to be there. She could hardly wait to be back on court.