Hello everyone! It's me! The woman that, despite my best intentions, is unable to update as quickly as I would like! That said, I come bearing a new chapter! But first, notes -
Thank you to everyone that has followed or favourited myself or this story. And I send gratitude to everyone that has sent me a review. On a website where people don't get paid to entertain, your kind words and constructive criticism is a most welcome return for hours spent typing away at a keyboard. A special mention to people who write in as guestsn. I am unable to send you a personal thank you, so I extend my thanks on here :)
A lot of you wrote in complimenting my description of how the women were dressed for the draw ceremony, so I should tell you that everything my characters wear is something you can actually google. If you look up what Azarenka and Sharapova wore to the actual draw ceremony in 2012 then you'll see what Quinn and Fleur are meant to look like. The suit Santana wore is something Naya has worn on the red carpet, and Rachel was in a Stella McCartney dress from her Fall 2011 collection. I tried to keep the descriptions as basic as possible because I personally don't enjoy stories where they go into too much detail of what the characters wore, but at the same time I want you to be able to visualise my work. Then again, if you have painted your own picture of what they look like in your heads then my mission is accomplished :)
I have not really proofread this new chapter, so all errors are my own. It would help me if you could point them out, just so I can correct them quickly! Else you'll just have to bear with them till I have the time to read this update later this week.
And now, go read the update! And tell me what you think!
Rachel didn't really believe in astrology, or ever star sign's for that matter. The only exception to that was when she found herself wondering if her sometimes-indecisive nature stemmed from the fact that she was born under the Gemini sign. Like now, when she was smack bang in the middle of the tennis court, Quinn's position practically mirroring hers on the opposite side of the court. Rachel took one last glance at her opponent before moving her eyes to the green orb that was about to land about a meter in front of her, her racket head moving back in preparation to meet it mid air when it rose up again. The question was; which side to hit the ball to?
Quinn's footsteps, dulled by the rubber soles of her Nike kicks, were the only other sound that reached Rachel's ears as she walked around admiring the portraits on the walls surrounding her. It was early; too early for some, but not too early for a professional athlete that was used to waking up at the crack of dawn to get an early workout in. Too early for most people to want to go into a gallery to look at art, but not too early for a pair of tennis players that had specifically requested the Istanbul Modern Art Museum open two hours ahead of usual to allow them to explore the 'Gaze – The Changing Face of Portrait Photography' exhibition, away from the eyes of the paparazzi and well-meaning autography hunters alike.
Rachel stopped in front of a frame to admire a black and white image of a pair of Turkish newlyweds; their glum expressions starkly juxtaposing what the teenager was sure must have been a happy occasion for the couple. She noted that the other set of footsteps also came to a halt and turned to see where Quinn was. She spotted the blonde leaning close to a portrait of a girl's profile, her eyes narrowed as she took in the details of the photograph. Rachel felt a fond smile make its way to her lips before she returned to her own study of the pictures, but found her mind distracted as her thoughts lingered on the woman she had just been watching.
The two hadn't spent that much time together after the evening of the draw ceremony, where they'd both been placed in the Red Group alongside Lily Chan and Kitty Wilde. They'd shared a few laughs with the other girls during the photo session that followed the ceremony but then Quinn and Santana had excused themselves from that night's player party quite early, citing fatigue from playing the finals in Kremlin then rushing straight to Istanbul as the very valid reason for their early departure. Rachel had then joined Quinn, Santana and Marley for a quick brunch the next day, which was their last one off before the tournament began on Tuesday. Since then she'd seen the blonde in passing, wishing her luck when their paths had diverged in the locker-room and waving at her from across the players' dining room as she and Shelby discussed match strategies over pasta a couple of hours before Rachel took to the court to play against Lily. As had become the norm for them though they continued to text multiple times a day, sending messages both just to each other and to the WhatsApp group that also included Santana and Brittany. Still, the limited interaction hadn't helped Rachel answer the question that had been plaguing her since Sunday; had Quinn really been flirting with her?
The brunette thought back to their interaction from that night, when she'd sworn she'd seen something in Quinn's eyes when the blonde had first spotted her all done up in her Stella McCartney dress. She couldn't have been imagining the way hazel-eyes had lingered on her form just a tad longer than usual, or the blush that had adorned Quinn's cheeks when Rachel had complimented her own attire. The teenager pictured Quinn as she'd looked that night, resplendent in a sleeveless black jumpsuit. She'd found her eyes seeking out the higher-ranked player a few more times that night, feeling a thrill going down her spine every time she found hazel eyes looking back at her. The air between them had felt electric, even when they'd stared at each other from across the room. But you wouldn't have been able to tell from the way she and Quinn had interacted since then. It wasn't that the blonde was being distant or aloof; they'd merely gone back to being what they were. Friends. Good friends, but friends nonetheless. And so a part of Rachel wondered if it had just been her wishful thinking that they had flirted that night. No, that Quinn had flirted with her. Rachel knew, without a shadow of doubt in her mind, that any flirtatious behaviour on her part, whether subconscious or not, had been intentional and was rooted in her attraction to the other woman. But maybe Quinn's effusive compliments had been more harmless in their intent. After all, Rachel had heard of friends flirting with one another without it necessarily meaning anything.
The screeching sound of shoes broke Rachel from her musings and she glanced at Quinn again. The blonde had moved further away, hands clasped behind her back as she focused on another portrait. Rachel wondered just how long her own unseeing eyes had been staring at the picture of the miserable looking bride and groom for. Shaking her head she spared it one last look before side-stepping to her left, where the portrait of burqa-clad woman awaited her attention.
The New Yorker was almost done going through the one-hundred-and-sixty years of portraits around her when she was alerted to Quinn's presence by a subtle clearing of the throat. She looked away from the series of portraits of the same soldier taken over a few years to meet Quinn's almost apologetic gaze. "I'm done, and I see the café is about to open. Would you like to have a coffee before we go? We still have about forty minutes before the museum opens to the public," Quinn said.
Rachel smiled, "Sure, I'm almost done too and I'd love a coffee. Could I please get a-"
"A sugar free vanilla soy latte, right?" Quinn interrupted with a twinkle in her eye.
Rachel nodded, genuinely surprised the blonde remembered her order considering that she could have only seen her order it a couple of times. Hazel-eyes twinkled at her, "I'll grab it. You'll find me at a table beside the café when you're done. Take your time."
"Thanks Quinn," Rachel said, keeping her eyes on the other woman's retreating figure for a few seconds before turning her attention back to the portraits of the soldier.
Quinn was nursing a large white mug between her hands when Rachel eventually made her way to the café. The blonde was blissfully unaware of the brunette's approach as she peered down at an open booklet on the table before her. Her attention was diverted when the New Yorker pulled out the chair across from her and sat down. The pair shared a quick smile but stayed silent till a waitress, who appeared almost immediately, had placed another steaming hot mug down and walked away with the teenager's thanks. Quinn moved to close what turned out to be a brochure of the exhibition, drawing Rachel's eyes to the glossy catalogue. Dark brown orbs flitted from the front cover to the woman sat before her. "I've been meaning to ask. The Sato Collection that this exhibit belongs to, would it have anything connection to Asami? I mean, Sato isn't the most common last name, and I've heard Asami comes from money..."
Quinn nodded, "It, in fact, has a lot to do with Asami. As this brochure plainly states, The Sato Collection is a branch of Future Industries' Art Conversation Project. Future Industries was founded by its current CEO Hiroshi Sato, who just so happens to be Asami's father."
"Wow," Rachel said, her eyes widening before she lowered them to glance at her latte that, judging by the slight wisps of steam wafting off it, was probably too hot to drink.
"Wow, indeed. I'm actually a little jealous that Asami will technically one day own all of this," Quinn smiled.
"Really?" Rachel asked, tilting her head as she considered her friend.
"Mmm hmm," Quinn said, taking a sip of her drink. "Wait. Really, you're jealous? Or really, will Asami actually own The Sato Collection one day?"
Rachel let out a laugh, "Really, both, I guess."
"Ok," Quinn grinned. "Asami's an only kid, so I'm assuming she's going to own the majority stake in Future Industries some day. She's actually really into technology and stuff, and helped design the last two Satomobiles. You should ask her about it, but be warned, what'll follow is long minutes of excited geeky rambling that you'll only really understand a teeny, tiny part of."
"Satomobile!" Rachel exclaimed as realization dawned on her. "Sato mobile! That's what that is! I don't know why I always just assumed that Satomobile was a Japanese word for car." She braved a sip of her drink, regretting it the moment she felt it burn her tongue.
Her cringe must have been obvious because Quinn's features contorted into a look of compassion, "Still too hot? Want me to get you some water?"
The brunette warmed at her concern, "No thank you Quinn. I'm alright."
Quinn keenly observed the teenager for a moment before nodding. "Now to part two of your "really", she said, making inverted commas with her fingers. "Yes, I'm really quite envious that Asami will inherit all the marvelous artwork The Sato Collection has amassed over the years."
Rachel smiled at the enthusiasm in the blonde's tone. "Have you always been interested in art?"
Quinn threw back the last of her coffee and, unobserved, Rachel took the opportunity to once again appreciate how good her friend looked in a form fitting white t-shirt and faded denim shorts that barely made it halfway down her thighs. The brunette had felt her pulse race when Quinn had stepped out of the elevator at the Ciragan Palace early that morning, her hair still damp from the shower and her tanned legs on display. And she had to stop herself from spontaneously combusting when Quinn has slipped on a pair of black aviator glasses the minute they'd step out of the hotel's revolving glass door and into the porte-cochere. Why did the object of her unvoiced affection have to be such an effortless stunner?
Rachel was shaken from the memory when Quinn placed the now-empty mug on the table and leaned back in her chair. "Mmm, not modern art so much, but that's probably just because I lack the understanding to appreciate it properly. But yeah, definitely the old stuff. And that extends to architecture and things like that. I just... I think it's so amazing how long some things have been around for. And how they'll be here long after we're gone. I remember visiting the Colosseum for the first time and just standing there in absolute awe, knowing it's been around since 80 AD. 80 AD! And the pyramids! God, they were built even before that! You look at them and think, how the hell did they get these massive blocks of limestone that weigh like, ten tons, up that high without cranes." The blonde had gotten more and more impassioned as she'd spoken, leaning forward in her seat and using her hands to gesture wildly.
"And you said I should be wary of Asami's geeky ramblings," Rachel said, her tone belying her mocking words. Quinn opened her mouth to protest but the younger woman beat her to the punch. "I'm kidding, Quinn."
The blonde narrowed her eyes at her friends teasing then relaxed her features again with a sigh. "I know I can go off on a tangent. I just think it's amazing," Quinn shrugged.
"I do too," Rachel agreed, earning a skeptical look from hazel eyes. "No really, I do!" the brunette defended herself through a laugh. "I thought the same thing when my parents took me to see the Great Wall of China for the first time; about how many generations of people have walked it. I'd always been obsessed with it as a kid, and my fascination only grew when someone told me it was the only man-made object visible from space. That, disappointingly enough, turned out to be untrue. But the wall itself? Not disappointing at all!"
"Yeah, it's something, isn't it," Quinn nodded, her eyes bright. "The Forbidden City is pretty awesome too. Have you been?"
Rachel shook her head, "Yeah. The first time I went to Beijing was right before the Olympics there. Papa's firm had some business related to the Games, so Daddy and I tagged along and seeing the wall and the Palace Museum was really as touristy as we got. I didn't get to see all of the museum's collection then, but I did go back for a couple of hours when we were in Beijing this year. And one day I'd like to take a holiday to go see the Terracotta Army."
"Oh yeah, that's an impressive collection. I actually saw some of the warriors and other artifacts at an exhibition in Sydney last year when I was there for the Sydney International. But I'm sure seeing the entire collection in Xi'an would be way better," Quinn said, bobbing her head up and down. "I'd like to do that too."
Rachel felt a swell of bravery course through her veins, "Maybe we could go together?" she suggested. Quinn didn't respond immediately, so Rachel backed up her comment, "It might be nicer with company." Lifting her mug, she blew on her drink for a second before taking a test sip and deeming it ready for safe consumption.
"You should know I take forever to walk through an exhibition. Santana came to a Harry Potter exhibition with me in Chicago once and had to wait for two hours after she was finished looking at everything for me to be done," Quinn warned. "Now she refuses to go to galleries with me."
"Quinn, you just finished going through this exhibition before I did," Rachel pointed out. The blonde didn't need to know about the distracted contemplations that had slowed her down.
"And if we get a tour guide, which I would like to do when I see the Terracotta Army, then I'll probably ask him a thousand questions, which will slow us down further," Quinn pressed.
"My fathers have always said I'm a part of Gen Why and not Gen Y. Asking questions is part of my forte. In fact, I'll probably ask our guide any questions you forget to ask," Rachel said, taking another sip of her latte.
"In that case, I'd love to go see the Terracotta Army with you," Quinn smiled. "Maybe next year?"
Rachel nodded, "Yeah. During the Asian swing, perhaps? It might be easier if we're in the general area. I'll check tournament dates and talk to Jesse. He says some events are organized long in advance of when they're held, so I should probably see when I'm definitely free."
"He's right," Quinn said. "I'll run it by Roz too. And speaking of Jesse, how are things going with him and Shelby?"
"They're good," Rachel smiled. "They had a mini-holiday in Thailand when we were at the Fed Cup camp in Japan and they're both coming to watch us in Paris next week."
Quinn shook her head, a look of wonderment on her features, "You know, I never would have picked that those two would work so well. Then again, you look at San and Brit and it's definitely yin and yang."
"I know what you mean," Rachel replied. "I guess the heart just wants what it wants." The words struck a chord within her, reminding her of the unexpected person she herself had fallen for.
"Yeah, it's a funny thing, the heart," Quinn said, almost to herself. Rachel watched as she shook her head, almost to break herself from some reverie, and turned her attention back to the brunette. "On the plus side, the press seems to have finally satiated its appetite for questions about those two. I'll bet no one is more relieved than Brittany and Santana themselves."
"Thank God," Rachel agreed. "I don't know why the press was so fixated on the fact that they're dating. It was like they wanted us to say we were uncomfortable having lesbians in the locker-room."
"Mmm hmm. I saw this absolute quality piece ranking the ten hottest lesbian and bi athletes. Santana, Brittany and Asami all made the cut. The gist of the article was that it was a loss for men everywhere that these... what did the article call them? I think it was 'Goddesses of Sport'. Yeah, that these Goddesses of Sport batted for the other team. I can't get my head around the fact that the person that wrote the article probably has a degree in journalism," Quinn deadpanned.
Rachel giggled, "Jesse actually sent me a link to that article, along with a note saying he was surprised I hadn't found a mention on there after my post-match interview in Russia. He even pretended to be mock-offended on my behalf!"
The brunette didn't actually stop to think about what she had just revealed until she saw Quinn's curious expression. "You mean the one where you said you thought sexuality was fluid?"
"Yup, that's the one," Rachel said, struggling to keep her tone light. She wasn't quite prepared to have this conversation with Quinn right now, but knew there was no way to avoid it. She took a sip of her latte, which was almost finished by now. Her throat still felt dry when she placed the mug back down.
"Ah, so you weren't just saying that in, you know, a show solidarity with San and Brit?" Quinn asked, her tone almost too casual. Rachel could see the genuine curiosity radiating off the other woman and knew she had a choice. Either she could tell Quinn the same lie she had told Brittany, her own best friend, about how she had gotten caught up in defending her friends. Or she could tell Quinn the incomplete truth that she had shared with Jesse when her manager had rung her to discuss her statements that were making waves around the tennis world even before she had walked out of the media room.
Rachel cleared her throat, her decision made. "No, I really do believe that sexuality is fluid. So I wouldn't say with absolute certainty and conviction that I'd never date a woman," she shrugged.
Quinn seemed to digest her words, nodding her head as she did. "I see. But you haven't, haven't actually dated a women yet?" she asked.
"No," Rachel said with a shake of her head.
The blonde seemed to consider her next words for a moment, then opened her mouth again. "Have you ever been interested in a woman? Romantically speaking?"
The brunette wondered if her friend could hear her erratic heartbeat. God knows it was making a racket in Rachel's own eardrums. "Yes," she replied, her tone unwavering.
"Was she not interested back?" Quinn pressed, her hazel eyes latched on Rachel's deep brown ones.
"I don't-" Rachel stopped abruptly when the waitress from earlier appeared by her side.
"Sorry to interrupt, but Ms. Fabray asked to be notified five minutes before we were due to open our doors to the public," the woman said.
There was silence before Quinn replied, "Thank you." She sent a polite smile to the woman towering above them, then looked at Rachel, "I guess we should get going, Rach. Unless you wanted to stick around longer?"
"No. I'm ready, too," Rachel said, downing the last of her drink. She felt oddly deflated, feeling the courage she had mustered up just moments ago slipping away.
"If you don't mind, could the staff please take a picture with you two before you leave? We're big tennis fans," the waitress requested.
Rachel and Quinn obliged, posing for a picture with the team in front of the café before exiting through a staff door at the side of the building. A security man assigned to them made sure they were seated in the back of their limo before taking his own spot in the front passenger's seat. The car had begun the journey back to the hotel when Quinn turned to Rachel, "I'm sorry if I got too personal with my questions back there. I-"
Rachel cut her off, "Hey, it's ok! You're my friend Quinn. You're allowed to ask me personal questions."
Quinn looked unconvinced, "Still. I know how annoying the media's intrusive questions can get, and I shouldn't have pre-"
Once again, the brunette didn't let her complete her apology. She raised a hand, effectively silencing her self-critical co-passenger. "Believe me Quinn, I'd tell you if I was uncomfortable. Don't beat yourself up over nothing. Ok?"
"Alright," Quinn relented.
The two women shared a smile and Rachel wondered if Quinn would continue the line of questioning from earlier. Then she saw Quinn quickly glance at the two men sitting in the front of the car, and knew the moment had truly passed. She decided to change the subject. "I forgot to tell you, Khalid organized for my things to be shipped to America yesterday. Thanks for putting me on to him. The shipment should arrive stateside by Monday."
"Oh, good!" the blonde said. "Was there a lot?"
"Yup," Rachel said, with the look of someone who'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "There was already a lot to begin with, and then I went back to the bazaar to buy some more stuff two nights ago. I thought about what you'd said about buying people lanterns for Christmas last year and stole your idea for myself this year. Of course, mine will be Christmas and Hanukah presents."
"You celebrate both?" Quinn asked.
"Yeah. Papa was raised Catholic and Daddy was raised Jewish and while neither of them are overly religious, they wanted me to understand both religions and have the best of both worlds, so to speak," Rachel explained.
"That's pretty cool, actually" Quinn said. "My dad was raised Protestant and mom grew up Anglican, and they often disagreed on things when it came to raising us."
"And what are you?" Rachel inquired.
Quinn shrugged, "Neither. I mean, I guess my parents agreed that we'd be raised Protestant, but I'm more agnostic, leaning towards atheistic. And Frannie converted to Buddhism a few years ago, so there's that. But of course, that doesn't mean she doesn't gladly accept Christmas presents!" Quinn laughed and added, "I guess the same could be said of me though."
Rachel looked out the window and realized they were just a few minutes away from the hotel. "So, what are you up to for the rest of the day?"
"Mmm, I'm gonna take a nap before I have a hit with Emma and Jacob this afternoon. I think I might have overdone my cardio a bit this morning, and I definitely didn't get as much sleep as I normally like to" Quinn replied, stretching her neck to the side.
"What?" Rachel exclaimed. "You went to the gym before we went to the museum this morning?"
Quinn looked like she couldn't see what the big deal was, "Yeah. Only for like, an hour."
"But we left the hotel just after seven," Rachel said. She herself had snoozed her alarm when it had first gone off at six-thirty that morning, and had then rushed to look presentable before meeting Quinn in the hotel lobby.
"Old habits die hard I guess. I like to get my metabolism going first thing in the morning, especially when I'm playing a tournament" Quinn said. "I give myself weekends off when I'm at home."
Rachel shook her head, "Wow. Now I just feel lazy."
This drew a laugh from Quinn. "Rach, we all have different habits and routines. I've seen you train and know you work your butt off in the gym and on court. And don't forget, you played the last match of the night yesterday, while I was out of there by seven. What time did you get back to the hotel?"
"Just after midnight" Rachel conceded. The car entered the hotel gates. "We're here," the brunette said, looking at the flowers that lined the driveway before turning back to Quinn. "Thank you for suggesting the exhibition and then organizing the trip to the gallery."
"That's what I wanted to ask!" Quinn said, as if just remembering. "What did you think of the exhibition?"
"I thought it was really good. I liked the diversity of subjects, and how the photographers used their work to trace societal changes. I thought that was pretty clever," Rachel said. "You?"
"I thought it was good too. I really like exhibitions that highlight different photography techniques and aesthetics, and this one was a goldmine in those terms. I especially liked the early studio photography shots, and how some of the photographers tried to get the same effect with modern equipment," Quinn said, unknowingly impressing Rachel with her observations. "Thank you for accompanying me today," the blonde added, just as the car came to a stop in the porte-cochere.
The pair stepped out of the car and began to head inside. "Let me know if you plan to check out any more exhibitions when we're on tour. I'll probably tag along if we can coordinate our schedules," Rachel said, earning a wide smile from Quinn.
"I will," Quinn grinned, coming to a stop in front of the elevators and pushing the 'up' button to call them. The door on the far left opened immediately and Quinn gestured for Rachel to walk in before following the short brunette and politely greeting the elevator attendant.
"Do you have any big plans for today?" Quinn asked as the doors started to close.
"I'm going to have a quick rest before heading to the Sinan Erdem Dome. I have the court booked for a practice session before today's games," Rachel said, eyeing the numbers of the floors they passed.
Quinn yawned, covering the action with the back of her hand. "Sorry. I think my body just reacted to the word 'rest'" she said sheepishly.
Rachel laughed. "Make sure you get a proper nap before your hit. I'm not going to go easy on you tomorrow, even if you're fatigued" she threw in cheekily as the elevator slowed and came to a halt. Stepping towards the blonde, she leaned in for a hug. "Again, thanks for inviting me today," she spoke into Quinn's ear before planting a kiss on the taller woman's cheek and pulling back. "See you tomorrow," she smiled, before walking out of the elevator.
"Bye Rach," Quinn said to her retreating back.
The brunette turned to look at her friend as the doors closed behind her, and caught a glimpse of tired-but-happy looking hazel eyes before the polished stainless steel doors filled her vision. Turning, she made her way into her suite, leaning against the door when it closed behind her and bringing her fingers to her lips that still tingled from the contact with Quinn's cheek.
It's funny, the things that cross your mind at the oddest of times. That's what Rachel contemplated, even as she waited for the ball to rise up to meet her racket strings. Even as she was in the midst of deciding which side to hit the ball to, given Quinn's own court position. In those two seconds that seemed to stretch out infinitely, Rachel's mind harked back to her conversation with Brittany the previous afternoon.
"I must have been more tired then I realized. I hit the snooze button twice," Rachel said, her voice still heavy with sleep as she slipped into her sports bra with her back to her phone.
"Yeah, but it sounds like you had a good time," Brittany's voice carried through the phone's speakers. "Hell, you and Quinn sound like you had a better time at the museum than I've had on some dates!" her friend joked.
Her comment gave Rachel pause. She stood there, about to slip her t-shirt over her head, digesting the Englishwoman's statement.
"Rach?" Brittany called. The brunette quickly put her t-shirt on before turning around to face her phone again.
"Sorry Brit, I lost you for a second," she lied, staring at her friend over Facetime. "How're Whitney and Pierce?"
'It was sort've like a date. She even paid for the coffee...' Rachel thought, her racket head moving forward to meet the spinning ball. But their interaction had been nothing but friendly. Apart from the kiss Rachel had planted on Quinn's cheek, of course. Which, again, Rachel had initiated and Quinn had simply, well, received. No, Quinn couldn't have thought of it as a date. 'Right?' Rachel second-guessed herself.
The back-and-forth in her head was starting to annoy Rachel. And this time, it was Shelby's voice that rung out loud and clear in her head. 'Don't overthink it,' her coach's sage voice said.
Rachel's feet lifted off the ground as her racket met the ball. The sound that resulted from the collision was crisp. Smack! Rachel kept her eyes on it the whole way through, adrenaline coursing through her body as the ball beat Quinn's lunging backhand. The applause from the audience was deafening as Rachel took the few steps needed to get to the net.
"Game, set, match, Berry. 6-3, 6-4" the chair umpire called.
"Well played, Rach," Quinn conceded when they shook hands at the net. The blonde leaned in to kiss each of the winner's cheeks, making Rachel's cheeks tingle the way her lips had the previous afternoon.