A/N: Sorry if I confused anyone because they ate ham for dinner…I know most Jews don't, but I envision Rachel, Isaac and Puck to be kind of lax in their Judaism. Plus, one of my friends eats bacon and she's Jewish…so I just thought some Jews ate pork? I guess I just have weird acquaintances.
Rachel volunteered to do dishes, and Quinn guessed that her desire to take on a pile of plates was not because she loved to clean, but because she needed time to think. The men were gathered in the living room, watching the game. Michael had wanted to help his daughter, but decided against it after a glance at her morose expression.
This shift left Quinn sitting at the table, unsure of whether to join the football-watching brigade or to try and talk to Rachel.
Since this was as good of a time as any, she tentatively sidled up next to the brunette and began drying the dishes.
"Hey," she said.
"Hey."
"Uh. You doing okay?" She winced. What a terrible question.
"Yes, I'm all right."
Silence again. Quinn didn't know if she was getting the silent treatment because Rachel was frustrated, or if Rachel was legitimately mad at her.
Though she trusted her own judgment about the situation, she knew that the woman next to her may not understand.
"Times Square, huh?" she began tentatively. "That's a big accomplishment. Are you going to make up a song and sing it like we did our senior year? Because I'm pretty sure nothing can top that."
A ghost of a smile, maybe, but otherwise Rachel remained impassive.
"What are you singing for New Year's Rockin' Eve? Anything I know?"
But this only seemed to make the brown eyes glisten again.
"Rachel, talk to me?"
"Quinn, what am I to you?" the brunette asked softly. The question startled her.
"I..."
"Look, I understand if you don't want to go. I guess I was just expecting you to. I thought you would like to go with me after everything we've shared in the last few weeks. I know it's a big commitment to spend the weekend with my dads and I, but..."
Quinn sighed. "Commitment is the word that scares me, I think."
"Why?"
"Rachel, we've talked about this."
"But not really, Quinn." her voice was rising, and Quinn swore that Puck turned around for a quick second to look at them. Rachel's brown eyes locked on the hazel ones. "Explain?"
"I'm hesitant to start anything too serious with you, Rachel, because part of me hates commitment. And that part of me hasn't really known what it wants for years, and has been fucked over, so I'm not really that optimistic when it comes to relationships." She felt anger rising and she felt so ridiculous discussing this over dirty dishes in their whispered voices.
"I've been hurt too, you know," Rachel hissed. "By you, even, if you'll remember. But I think we've both changed enough, even though that old attraction is there from high school, nothing else really remains of that twisted relationship we had. I know it, you know it too. So what's holding you back from… I don't know, thinking I want to spend time with you, or coming to New York with me, or plain old sharing a bed with me when I was at your apartment?"
Quinn blushed and mumbled something about chivalry.
"Oh, bullshit. You're afraid of your feelings because you don't understand them."
"And you do?" Now it was Quinn's turn to have her voice rise ominously, but she was drowned out by a cheer in the living room – the Browns had scored, and Michael had his head in his hands as Isaac and Puck were slapping each other on the back.
"Quinn, I don't know how you feel about me. I wish I did. Maybe that's a starting point for me to figure out where to go from here. But I would like to move forward. Just know that. I enjoy spending time with you, I definitely enjoy when that time involves little to no clothing. How many times do I have to say that, Quinn? You are important to me. You're my friend. I want you to be more but only if you're comfortable."
Quinn couldn't shake the thought that Rachel was going to up and leave one day. She saw it, clearly – allowing herself to let go and trust a relationship, and then getting stabbed in the back. Waking up in an apartment that they shared to find Rachel had run off with someone. It wasn't a pretty thought, and it wasn't that she didn't trust Rachel – it was just that she needed to prepare herself for the worst in case it came.
A soft hand caressed the side of her cheek. "I'm sorry if I've been making things complicated. I just love spending time with you, you know? I saw you again that night in the hospital and all my old feelings came flooding back."
"Mine too," Quinn said as she stared at the dishes. "I thought…I didn't think they would be this strong, and that they would catch me so fast. I just…thought we'd have dinner and catch up…but I didn't realize how much I still felt for you. It scares me."
"I know, but isn't it nice that we're together again? You're one of the only people I have in Columbus. I need you around to keep me sane. Please don't feel like I don't need you in my life, okay?" Rachel kissed her forehead softly.
Quinn was trying not to cry at this completely unwarranted display of affection. It was just what she needed to hear, so why couldn't she accept it? I don't deserve her, she thought. She picked at the leftover ham on the bone absentmindedly as she tried not to burst into tears. A huge chunk fell off.
"This ham bone represents my life," she said sadly as the remainders fell over on the plate and some splattered to the floor. "Falling apart and smelling faintly of alcohol."
Rachel tilted her chin up. "You're not a damn ham bone. Talk to me."
Quinn popped the piece of ham in her mouth as tears welled in her eyes. Those chocolate brown eyes were boring into hers, stealing her breath, forcing her to speak. "I love you, Rachel," she said thickly through her wet eyes and mouth full of pork.
"I love you too, Quinn. Of course I do." Rachel pulled her close. "I've loved you for a long time. I just didn't know you felt the same way until recently. I think I always will love you."
"I hope so," said the blonde as she swallowed her ham.
"And don't you dare think I'd up and leave you," Rachel said softly. "I know we live in two separate worlds with our careers, but I'm willing to work it through if you are. Okay?"
Quinn nodded, feeling all of a sudden overwhelmed by her feelings for this woman. Willing to work it through if you are.
"I want to work it through with you," she said. A simple statement, but she meant it.
"I know you've been hurt, Quinn. I have too. But like your favorite song, right? 'Love is lookin' for you.' Well, I'm right here, love. I found you finally. We don't have to put labels on anything yet – we're just together. Quinn and Rachel. Moving forward as a pair. I've got your back, okay? We'll take care of each other. I'm starting a new life, and I've got you by my side, right?" She started humming the song from "Annie" that Daddy Warbucks and the little redhead orphan sing to each other at the end.
"I don't need sunshine now to turn my skies to bluueeee," Rachel said, her eyes smiling into Quinn's. "Come on, I know you know it."
"I don't need anything but you," Quinn finished quietly. Rachel hugged her again.
"Come on now. Cheer up, okay? Or I'll sing you that song from 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.' It's Christmas, let's celebrate." She tried pulling Quinn to the living room, but the blonde held her back.
"Rachel?"
"Mm?"
"I'll go."
"What?"
"New York. I'll go."
"Really?" Rachel's face was a mixture of shock and pure, unbridled delight. Quinn smiled back at her, and Rachel pulled her into the tightest hug she had probably ever received, then kissed her with such passion that her knees nearly gave way.
"Dad! Daddy!" Rachel called. They turned. "Do you mind having one more guest on your trip to New York with me?"
Their smiles said it all. Puck stood and gave Quinn an air high-five, and Rachel beamed at her as they walked, arm in arm, to join the football festivities in the living room. The three men rose for hugs, then squeezed back on the couch together – apparently, football games were best watched while shoulder-to-shoulder with each other. Quinn and Rachel shared the sofa, and Quinn smiled as soft hands lazily played with her hair.
Ten minutes later, a winter weather advisory blared across the screen.
"Fuck that," said Puck as a computerized voice declared a "Level 3 Snow Emergency" to be in effect until 4 a.m. "I'm not staying out until four. Isaac, my man? I'm crashing here tonight, okay?"
"We all need more beer, then," Isaac said good-naturedly. Michael giggled next to him – apparently the entire couch was tipsy.
"Quinn, you should stay, too." Rachel's face was creased with worry. "Please, I don't want you driving at 4 a.m. through the snow. Can you just sleep here for the night?"
"Like I could say no," Quinn said as she stooped to pick up Ian McKellen and buried her nose in his soft fur.
At halftime, they all relocated to the basement. Quinn smiled inwardly as she remembered Rachel's disaster of a party from their junior year. The stage was still there, along with some of Rachel's awards, signed programs, et cetera. Isaac opened the mini-fridge under the bar and produced another bottle of wine. Quinn was almost positive he had been buzzed the whole night, but decided she didn't care as she began indulging in the wine.
Isaac was now pulling his husband up on the makeshift stage and giving Puck directions as to what song to pull up on the karaoke machine.
Out of nowhere, the short bespectacled man had produced a cowboy hat, and placed it on his husband's head as the beginning notes of "Hillbilly Bone" by Blake Shelton and Trace Adkins twanged through the speakers.
"Welcome to your halftime show, ladies and gentlemen!" he hollered as he started in to the first verse.
Of course, being a Miranda Lambert fan and a country fan in general, Quinn knew the song. Her idol's husband Blake sure had an interesting way with words in his songs, and this was no exception.
By the first chorus of "We all got a hillbilly bone down deep inside,"Michael was getting into the groove and added a low but loud bass line to harmonize with his husband's. Puck was banging his hands on the stage like a drum set, Rachel was giggling behind the bar, and the cats were at the top of the stairs, watching. The Berry men sounded good together. Quinn wondered if they did this often, or only while drunk.
She would have to see that karaoke was a more frequent occurrence around here, because "Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy" was Puck's next pick, and watching two grown gay men sing it had her doubled over laughing.
The rest of the football game wasn't as important to her as the time she spent with her newfound friends, and the comfortable feeling of having an arm wrapped around Rachel. She was content, happy, feeling loved and secure with a beautiful girl next to her on the basement couch and two cats on her lap.
The wine probably helped with that warm and safe feeling, too.