Chapter 37: Those Summer Days and Oh Those Summer Nights – Part 4
"I need to talk to you."
Rachel perked up at once. "Is it about something naughty? Because I was just thinking..."
"No!" Quinn rolled her eyes. "Why are you always so gutter brained?"
The brunette lowered her eyes in embarrassment. "Oh, I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"
Groaning in exasperation, Quinn picked her up and started walking towards the stairs with Rachel's legs around her waist. Rachel stared down at her in disbelief.
"Of all the..." She shifted her weight as they went up the staircase. "All I said was that I wanted to talk to you. Why do you always have to be such a wounded puppy? You should know better than this."
"I'm not a dog," she protested lightly, but was more focused on the ease with which they were moving up the stairs. "You are surprisingly strong, Quinn Fabray."
She smirked up at her. "I've had experience carrying girls around all day."
"I'm not sure if that makes it better or worse..."
They made it into Rachel's bedroom without injury and Quinn dropped them both onto the bed. Rachel made sure her hold around Quinn's waist tightened so that the other girl was forced to stay there with her. She didn't need to do that though because Quinn had no plans to go anywhere, instead she rested her weight comfortably on top of her, settling in with a smile.
Rachel cupped her cheeks and brought her down for a kiss, but when she went to deepen it, Quinn pulled back.
"What now?" she almost whined.
"We're still having that talk first, you nympho!"
"I don't appreciate being called names just for wanting to-"
"Rachel."
"All right, all right." She nodded seriously and pushed herself up onto her elbows and looked at Quinn intently so that she knew Rachel was ready. "I'm listening. Go."
"Santana and Brittany have been on my back about rejoining the Cheerios. They've been bugging me ever since the summer cuts to go back. Santana and I would be co-Captains. All I have to do is say yes."
"I know."
"And I was just thinking-" Quinn cut herself off and looked at her in surprise. "Wait. You know?"
"Of course." Rachel shrugged. "Brittany told me how much they miss having you there. Apparently, the Cheerios is just not the same without the fearsome, illustrious Quinn Fabray at the helm. Although, I was surprised to hear that Santana would be willing to share her position with you, when for two years she was practically salivating at the mouth to get her chance at Captain alone. You two were awful to each other about that!"
"If you knew they were trying to get me back, why didn't you ever say anything?"
"I figured you would talk to me about it when you were ready..."
Quinn took that in, nodding slowly.
"So have you made your decision yet?"
"No. Well, not really. I mean, it was different before. My reasons for being there would be completely different now. To be honest, I do miss it sometimes. I miss the the competitions, being in charge, never having to worry about what to wear to school... Look, you run the Glee club, Rachel, and that's because you're the best, but with the Cheerios, I was the star."
Rachel opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again, hesitating. She needed for this to come out right so she thought her words through carefully before trying again. "Would it have anything to do with you wanting to be more popular again?" she asked carefully. "Because I wouldn't begrudge you for wanting that."
"No, no, not at all." Quinn laughed softly. "Santana's biggest argument was that the only way to be 'top ho's' as seniors is to wear the uniform again, but my priorities have obviously evolved beyond that. Yes, being on the Cheerios and having to deal with Coach Sylvester was crazy and awful sometimes, but I actually do miss spending time with Santana and Brittany there. The three of us started together and it would be nice to end together."
"It sounds like you've already made your decision."
"I haven't." Quinn shook her head. "Rachel, I won't do this if you don't want me to."
"What?" Her voice had gone up a few octaves.
"It would be fun to go back, I admit that, but I don't need it. It's not like before." She sighed. "I won't do it if it's going to upset you. It's not worth it to me. Not even close."
"It's just a uniform..." she mumbled unconvincingly.
"Is it?" Quinn raised an eyebrow. "Or would it bring back memories better left in the past?"
"I..." Rachel swallowed thickly before shrugging. "I don't know."
Quinn nodded like she'd just been proven right. "And that's why I wanted to talk about it. I'm leaving the decision up to you."
"Wait, no! You obviously want to go back, Quinn!" she insisted. "You can't just put it on me to decide-!"
"I can and I am. Listen to me," she gingerly traced the line of Rachel jaw before meeting her eyes again with a small smile, "I don't need this. If you would rather me not go back, that's more than okay. I don't need the Cheerios, but I do need you. If it meant more to me, we would be having a different kind of conversation, but it doesn't. It's something I'm thinking about and you are the deciding factor. So...please...believe me when I tell you that whatever you choose, I'll be perfectly fine with it. It's our senior year, Rachel. I refuse to let anything get in the way of us. We've had more than enough of that. So, just think about it."
Rachel laid her head back on the bed, her head turned to the side so that she saw her desk, her laptop closed on top of it.
Myspace.
'Please get sterilized.'
'If I were your parents, I would sell you back.'
She shook her head to rid herself of the unwelcome memories.
Was it really just a uniform?
All she could see was red and white permanently entangled with those terrible memories of cruelty and humiliation.
Would it be different now that she truly knew who was in that tight fitting tank top and skirt? Or would she be reminded of the past every day that Quinn strode through the halls?
"I have an idea."
"All ears."
"What if..." Rachel toyed with the hem of Quinn's shirt, letting her knuckles graze the bare flesh underneath, "you could ask for your uniform back on a trial basis? Without committing fully. That way I'd get a better feeling for what...you know."
Quinn tilted her head with a wince. "I could try, but Coach keeps them locked in her vault, and I'm not sure I'd be able to convince her to let me back unless it was an iron clad agreement. Literally signed with my blood and everything."
"So just try then."
She pursed her lips, wrinkling her nose. "Is this just some kind of kinky fantasy fulfillment thing you want to do before asking me not to go back?"
Rachel's mouth dropped open and she shoved her lightly. "Stop it! You know I wasn't thinking about that."
Her face was bright red because she had been thinking about exactly that. But it wasn't only that!
Quinn just giggled knowingly.
"It's all right," she cooed, brushing her lips over Rachel's. "I know how much you love your fantasies. I'm happy to do whatever I can to bring them to life. Even if it means you perving over me in a cheerleading uniform. Though, really? You couldn't be more creative than that?"
"This is not fair!" she huffed. "I thought we were having a serious conversation here!"
"We are! It's not my fault you're a nympho."
"Again with the name calling."
"Shhh, my little nympho," Quinn nuzzled her nose affectionately, "be quiet and kiss me."
Rachel refused.
"I don't know why you felt the need to add a slight about my size to an already derogatory moniker!"
Quinn groaned and stretched herself out on top of Rachel. She grasped the brunette's wrists and pinned them on the bed above her head.
"The only thing you need to pay attention to about that," she murmured huskily, "is the part where I said 'my'."
She leaned in and pressed her lips to Rachel's, finding an eager and willing response. They broke away only so that Quinn could release Rachel's hands to remove the brunette's top.
"So..." she said breathlessly and raised her arms to make it easier for Quinn to pull off her shirt, then she was staring up at her with an eager, shining, innocent gaze, "I'm your little nympho and...you're my Lion Quinn?"
Quinn shut her eyes in disbelief and dropped her head against the brunette's bare stomach, shaking with silent laughter.
"Oh." Rachel pouted. "Does that mean we're not going to have sex now?"
They were in the Berrys' kitchen, Quinn was sitting behind the counter while Rachel puttered about to make them lunch. Usually Quinn would be helping her, but she'd been sitting there quietly for some time now. In fact, she'd been quiet ever since she came over, but that wasn't unusual. Quinn had days like that and Rachel didn't mind, mostly because even when Quinn wanted to be quiet, she never seemed to need Rachel to be, so it all worked out. But this was starting to feel different than the norm.
"My Mom's going to visit my sister in Seattle for two weeks," Quinn spoke finally.
"Um...okay?" Rachel furrowed her brow perplexedly, looking over her shoulder as she retrieved some lemonade from the refrigerator. She started to fill two glasses for them. "Will you be all right over there alone for that long?"
"Oh, yeah, no, no, it's fine, that's not it." She waved her off.
Rachel stopped what she was doing to face her. "Then what is it?"
Quinn shook her head, running her hands through her short, choppy locks.
The brunette came around the island worriedly to stand in front of her. "Sweetie, your face is bright red...and it's not from sunburn because when we went to the lake yesterday I made sure you wore the appropriate amount of sunblock and reapplied it hourly for you."
Quinn took a deep breath, speaking slowly, purposefully. "I want you to come over to my house."
The brunette's eyes widened into saucers.
"I know I said it couldn't happen, that it was too risky," she followed up quickly. "But my Mom will be gone for a couple weeks, several states away, and I know how much you've wanted to see it, even though there's really nothing to see. I still don't like the idea because you shouldn't ever have to be in that place, but I-I...we have a pool, a-and a hot tub, so I thought we could hang out for a little bit instead of having to go to the lake or the community rec place. And Santana's been on me to throw a pool party since I usually have one every summer except last year, for obvious reasons. And I thought it would be...w-we could use the time alone-"
Rachel pounced on her with a squeal, thankfully ending Quinn's nervous spiel.
"What are you doing?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Rachel frowned. "I'm trying to be discreet, Quinn. You know...in disguise. Undercover! I thought it might help ease your anxiety a bit."
"Wearing a fuzzy hat with giant sunglasses and a ski jacket in the middle of August is not exactly discreet, Rachel. If anything, you're like a homing beacon for every nosy busybody in my neighborhood."
"Okay, but at least they still won't know it's me. That is the point, right?"
Quinn sighed and looked out the windshield at the road, not saying anything.
Rachel heard what she said anyway.
"Okay, okay, the ski jacket is coming off," she said as she peeled the coat off her.
Quinn still didn't say anything.
"...and the fuzzy hat." She tossed both of them into the backseat. "Can I at least keep the glasses?"
Quinn shook her head bemusedly with a smile and took her hand. "Yes, you can keep the glasses."
Rachel had seen the exterior of the Fabray house before. More than once, she'd driven by to catch a glimpse of this forbidden place that seemed so light and lovely on the outside, but held such dark secrets.
It was big. They could start there. They were in Lima's only upscale neighborhood with McMansions on every corner. The outside of Quinn's house looked like something out of Better Homes and Gardens, the big American colonial home that every Martha Stewart wannabe wanted to have. The perfectly manicured lawn, the red door, the pristinely painted shutters, the flowers and mini bushes lining the walkway, and the hydrangeas under the windows. It was perfect.
Too perfect.
Quinn stepped in first, moved aside for Rachel to follow, and closed the door behind them.
Immediately she was faced with the long hallway stretching out in front of her, a wide staircase on the left, and a chandelier hung above them. Rachel was already in awe and she'd only taken one step inside. Quinn took her down the hall, quickly pointing out the dining room, the kitchen, the closets, the bathrooms, the living room, the den, and she was going so fast, Rachel could hardly catch a glimpse of each one as they went by in a blur.
What she could tell so far was that everything, absolutely everything, was perfectly organized. There wasn't a single item out of place. She was willing to bet that the portraits and framed pictures on the wall had been straightened with a leveler and bolted down so they could never be crooked. Everything was so painfully sterile, that you didn't even feel comfortable even breathing the air because you might contaminate it. Rachel had only been in this house for a few minutes and she was already beginning to feel stifled. Is that what Quinn felt like everyday? She wanted to stop and explore each room more, but Quinn was acting so strange, Rachel didn't want to push her luck. When they passed the den though, she saw a closed door on the other side that Quinn didn't point out.
Rachel took hold of Quinn's wrist with both hands, preventing her from moving on. "What's in there?"
She turned around to see what Rachel was talking about and stiffened slightly when she saw the door. Her face was a blank mask, but Rachel knew her girlfriend far too well by now. There was a storm raging behind that stony exterior.
"My Dad's office," she replied tersely. "We don't use it."
Rachel sighed, her heart going out to Quinn. She couldn't bear to see her in pain like this. Her father disowning her was something Quinn still hadn't been able to get over and may never get over...at least not completely. How do you forgive and move past something like that? Your very own father abandoning you when you needed him the most? The man who was supposed to love, cherish, and protect you from all the scary things in the world until you were ready to take it on yourself?
Russell Fabray was practically a figment of Rachel's imagination. She'd never met the man, she only knew him as the monster who had hurt her father and her lover more than she could bear to think of. There were no pictures of him in the house that she'd seen yet, but she didn't expect to see many family photos with Russell in them. If there were family photos, she was pretty sure there was some editing done so he disappeared.
She wanted to know more about this man, this illusion. She wanted to see what the office of a person like Russell Fabray would look like. In her mind, it was more like a dungeon with chains and a tiny little slit as a window to allow for light, but she wanted the truth.
"May I see it?" she asked softly.
Quinn frowned at her. "Why? There's nothing interesting in there. I don't think my Mom's even touched it since he left. She got rid of all his other crap, but we just closed the office off. I haven't been in there since..."
She shook her head and the frown disappeared, replaced by that cool mask again that Rachel hated to see.
"Then let's go in there together?"
"Rachel, I don't-"
But she was already pulling her into the other room, weaving around the couch and the coffee table. When they were in front of the door, Rachel looked back to double check with Quinn that she wasn't overstepping her boundaries...at least not too much...and Quinn just nodded listlessly.
It smelled a little stale when she opened the door. Remnants of smoke from cigars and the fireplace lingered in the air, probably because it permeated the thick carpet and the dark wood filling the room. It was bright inside though; the curtains were pinned back to let the daylight pour in. Rachel expected it to be literally untouched, with dust lining the shelves and the massive desk that took up half the room, but it was just as clean as the rest of the house, not a single item out of place. All the books were perfectly aligned, dusted, picture frames shining. Apparently this room was not off limits to their cleaning woman. Judy and Quinn may not go in there, but even an unused room like this was not allowed to be "let go." It would maintain the same integrity as the rest of the house, even if they never wanted to go in.
Rachel jumped a little bit when she saw the giant deer head mounted above the fireplace and felt sick so she quickly averted her gaze so that she didn't have to see those fake, glassy black eyes staring at her. That poor creature...she hoped his death was swift. This was already bad enough without having a corpse in the room to add to it. The walls were painted a dark, rich, brown. Everything else there matched the massive beast of a desk on the right side. It was heavy, dark-stained solid oak and there was a high backed leather chair behind it.
She moved over to the desk and saw there were some picture frames on it, along with an old calendar, a marble pen holder, but not much else. She picked up one of the pictures and it was of Judy with a young girl she didn't recognize. The girl was probably Quinn's older sister. Setting it down, she picked up another one that she saw was of Quinn. That surprised her. Even after kicking her out, Russell still kept it there. Didn't that mean something? Quinn was smiling, though with no teeth showing. She must have been at least five. Her hair was so long, almost white blonde, and it was pushed back with a headband. It looked like she was at a party because she was wearing a formal dress and she had her hands clasped in front of her dutifully.
Rachel wanted to cry.
She could picture this little girl, this tiny, sweet, fragile, innocent, five-year-old girl standing behind this behemoth desk, looking up with those big hazel eyes she knew so well, desperate for her father's approval. She wished she could hug that little girl and tell her that it would all be okay, save her from the pain of growing up and losing her family more with every year. Every year that her eyes got a little wider, every year that she matured just a little more. But she turned back to Quinn and reminded herself that she could hug her and tell her those things now.
Quinn took the frame out of her hands and placed it face down on Russell's desk.
"My Mom put that there after he moved out and I came back. She's always trying to convince me that my father cares more about me than he does. Fruitless effort on her part. She forgets I actually know him."
"How do you know she put that there? It could have been-"
"Because my father never used that picture of me on his desk," she answered simply. "He had the same one there for nine years. It probably burned in that fireplace the same night he kicked me out."
Rachel must have looked exactly like she was feeling because Quinn smiled sadly and shook her head.
"It's okay. Really. I accepted all this a long time ago; I've moved on."
Rachel didn't believe her for a second. Something like this could never be "okay," but this wasn't something they needed to address today, and not for some time. Quinn wasn't ready yet. Maybe one day she would be.
So she took Quinn's hand, interlacing their fingers and left that dreadful place behind. Quinn was getting more and more on nervous longer Rachel was there. When they came back inside after Quinn showed her the yard, the pool, and the pool house/guest house, she was reaching the height of anxiety. Rachel could see it clear as day. She was jumping at every sound. Each time the house creaked, Quinn tensed as if it meant someone was there or someone was coming or someone would find them. She was trying to show her the second floor, when Rachel finally took matters into her own hands and asked to see Quinn's room, skipping the rest of the tour.
After they went in, Rachel quickly found the lock on the door and turned it behind her. When she looked at Quinn again, the blonde looked more embarrassed than anything else. There was no reason for Rachel to lock the door; no one was home or would be home, but the fact that her anxiety was so obvious made her feel sheepish. But Rachel wasn't upset by it; she knew how hard Quinn was trying, what a significant step this was for her. So she was just going to make this as easy as possible on them both.
Quinn sat down on the edge of her bed, her knees locked together with her hands tucked under her. She didn't say anything, so that told Rachel that she was being given free rein to look around. Quinn's room was so different from what she thought it would be and yet she wasn't that surprised. It was almost completely bare with the exception of the bed, her vanity, a bureau, and two bookcases. Rachel gravitated towards the shelves because there definitely wasn't enough space there for all of Quinn's books. She would know, there was an ever-growing pile of them in her own room that Quinn left behind.
She turned to the blonde with a questioning look and Quinn shrugged, admitting that only the "parent/church approved" books were on the shelves. The rest of her collection was in piles at the back of her closet and hidden in drawers under her bed. It wasn't like her Mom couldn't easily find them if she went looking, but that was just it. Judy would never go looking. As long as everything appeared right, then there wasn't a problem.
Quinn went on to explain that her father forced Judy to dismantle her room after he kicked her out. He didn't want any reminders. Once Quinn was out, she was out. So Judy boxed up Quinn's things, but instead of leaving them on the street like Russell wanted, she brought them up to the attic to store away.
"I never got around to unpacking. It was mostly just Cheerios stuff anyway. I didn't really see the point."
Rachel nodded and wiped away her tears quickly while her back was still to Quinn and then turned around to face her again. The blonde hadn't moved from her spot on the bed. Rachel wondered if she'd even breathed since she sat down.
"You didn't even want to decorate it differently? You didn't have to use your Cheerios things again."
Quinn only shook her head. You decorate your home. You make it a place you want to live in, a place that's yours, a place you can come into and feel safe and comforted. This house wasn't her home. It hadn't felt like home ever since her father had so easily disposed of her while her mother stood by and watched. How can you be exiled from your home? You can't. Even after her mother had taken her back, it wasn't the same; she never trusted it again. All Quinn wanted now was the chance to leave again and make herself a real home, one that no one could kick her out of.
Maybe she could have that home someday with Rachel.
Rachel's hands were running through Quinn's hair soothingly and she found such relief in that touch. When she finally looked up, Rachel leaned down to capture her lips in a gentle caress. After they broke apart, Quinn found herself breathing a little bit easier again. This house, this room, her mother, her father, all the bad and good and awful memories that had happened in that place were falling away and she was only seeing Rachel now...feeling Rachel...kissing Rachel.
She didn't realize it right away, but at some point Rachel had wriggled onto her lap and was straddling her as they were lip-locked. With every touch of her hands against her skin, ghosting along her neck, down her bare arms, lacing their fingers together...all the tension was ebbing away. It wasn't this scary place; it wasn't something to fear. Everything would be all right. Rachel was there and that's the only thing that mattered.
They stayed liked that for a while, just letting themselves be near each other, breathe in each other. Quinn didn't understand how Rachel knew it was what she needed; she didn't even know it herself, but Rachel did. Somehow, she just did. It wasn't about the passion or frenzied desire; it was simply sweet and reassuring. They held it there with soft touches, light kisses, and when Rachel's tongue just barely grazed Quinn's bottom lip, they both giggled.
There was something so soothing about being able to hold her like this, to just be together. Was Rachel always going to be able to do this for her...just make the world fade away, make everything seem less scary, less hurtful? She told her once that she made her memories hurt less, and it was still true. After having some time with just the two of them, together, relaxing in the safety of her locked bedroom, Quinn began to calm down and started to adjust to having Rachel in the house.
Rachel was the one to broach it first by pushing down the straps of Quinn's sundress, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips. Quinn looked up her with a raised eyebrow.
"You want to go swimming, don't you?"
The brunette laughed and pushed herself off Quinn, skipping over to the dresser to rummage through it for bathing suits. She started throwing various mismatched pieces of bikinis at Quinn and stopped when she came across a more racy piece of lingerie that she hadn't seen before. Quinn jumped up at once to snatch it away and hid it behind her back. That was supposed to be a surprise for later! Rachel just beamed and went back to looking for something to wear, humming delightedly to herself. Quinn watched her with a smile. Could they just always be like this? Would the universe allow her to spend the rest of her life like this?
Happy?
They changed into their bathing suits and Quinn found Rachel already lying on one of the chaise lounges outside when she joined her with their towels. Her heart did a quick little skip at seeing Rachel stretching out in the sun, barely covered, tan from a summer's worth of beaches, pools, and even that trip to the amusement park.
They took turns helping the other put on sun block and Quinn had a slight coronary when Rachel turned over, pulling the strings of her top untied. But she firmly reminded herself that there was no one to catch them; plus the high fence and trees along the property line gave them complete privacy. Rachel was only hers to see.
"Normally, I sunbathe in the nude, as I'm sure you guessed by the lack of my tan lines, but I've tried to be respectful to your sense of modesty," she said lazily.
Quinn snapped to look at her in disapproval, jealousy stirring ever so slightly in her breast. "Where exactly do you lie out naked?" she asked testily.
"My backyard."
That threw her a little bit "But...your Dads...?"
"...know that and make sure they stay inside."
"Oh."
She felt better now, but was definitely going to be checking Rachel's backyard the next time they were there to ensure there were no peeping tom neighbors or horny little boys trying to get a look at the naked girl in her yard.
Rachel inched down her bottoms a bit. "Are you sure I can't just..."
Quinn quickly grabbed her wrist to stop her, giving her a stern look. "Rachel, there is only so much I can take."
"Oh, fine." She pouted and put her head back down.
Quinn exhaled heavily in relief. She was just getting used to Rachel in this house; she didn't know if she could handle a naked Rachel there! Lying on her back, she pushed up her sunglasses and enjoyed the feeling of the hot sun on her bare skin. Rachel was breathing quietly beside her; the trees were rustling slightly in the breeze, which felt wonderful as it flew across them. And there was a faint sound of a lawnmower running a few houses down. It was definitely summer and she couldn't remember a better one than the last couple months with Rachel.
The brunette shifted next to her and Quinn rolled her head to the side with a sweet smile. Rachel opened her eyes, squinting in the sunlight and then lifted herself onto her elbows, leaning towards her.
"So what is this about a pool party?"
A few days later, Quinn had the perfect idea for how to make this party different from all the rest. It was for the Glee club to enjoy themselves, not an opportunity to raise her popularity status. Also, she knew Rachel would love it most of all.
With Hiram and Leroy's permission, of course, Quinn borrowed Rachel's karaoke system. She asked Puck to pick it up at the Berry house while Rachel was out and build a stage in her backyard for the party. It wasn't easy because first she had to bribe Puck into it by saying that the girls would be topless at the party (which they most definitely would not be...though with Brittany there was always a good chance) and then he insisted on having Finn help him, which Quinn was adamantly against. But since they were the only two boys, with the exception of Sam, who knew anything about carpentry, she had to let it go.
She wished she could have asked Sam to do it instead of having to deal with Finn, but Quinn was in no position to ask him for any favors. The fact that he even came over to Rachel's house the day of the car wash was a huge step for them. He didn't have to be there, but he was, and they had a good time. Still, things hadn't completely healed between them; conversations were still awkward and stilted when they were alone. It was getting better though and that was enough for her.
The day before the party, the two boys were sweating it out in her backyard, and Finn had his typical sour, constipated look on his face for most of the time. She brought them lemonade - there were some things she just couldn't leave behind with her upbringing - and Puck griped about her not having the decency to buy them a lousy beer. However, Finn thanked her for the lemonade, and he didn't look as constipated anymore after that. After they cleaned up the mess and the stage was done, she sent them home and went over to the Berrys. Rachel was disappointed that they weren't spending the night alone at Quinn's; "wasting valuable alone time" was how she put it. But Quinn wanted her to be surprised on the day of and there was no way that a new wooden structure in her backyard was going to escape Rachel Berry's uncanny powers of perception. She would just know there was something out there the minute she stepped into the Fabray house.
The next day, Rachel spent all morning at Quinn's house helping her girlfriend prepare for the pool party later that afternoon. Of course, that was only after she'd spent a good half hour bouncing all over the place with excitement about the stage in the backyard. They had even managed to set up a rudimentary spotlight. Rachel kept going between hugging and kissing Quinn to running back outside to test how the platform felt only to go running back to Quinn again. She was like a rabbit on speed and Quinn was just grateful Santana wasn't there yet because she would have likely knocked Rachel unconscious at some point.
Puck was outside cleaning the pool along with Kurt and Blaine who were putting up decorations. Quinn had only managed to get Puck out there at such an early hour after eight phone calls, then a ninth one to his sister, who promptly went into his room and kicked him until he was finally awake. By late afternoon, everyone but Santana and Brittany had arrived and were already in the full swing of things. Music was blaring, almost everyone was in the pool, and drinks were being passed around like there was no tomorrow.
When Santana and Brittany came around the side gate, Rachel went to chastise them for being late. Quinn saw it out of the corner of her eye and ran to cut Rachel off at the pass before she said anything that would incite the Latina to unnecessary verbal abuse.
"Ease up on the 'tude, Jew baby. We stopped to get extra ice and..." She gestured to the box of liquor that Brittany held up excitedly with her tongue wagging. "So's why don't you backpedal your freakish looking dachshund legs into something of an apology before I go all Swimfan and drown you in the pool?"
Rachel rolled her eyes, but thanked Santana for her thoughtfulness and took the ice before walking off.
Quinn looked in the box Brittany was carrying and her eyes widened.
"Are you planning to have us all taking a trip to the hospital for alcohol poisoning?"
"You asks for the liquor, you gots the liquor!" Santana snapped. "Don't start pulling your fake ass Christian moral highness crap on me now."
Quinn glared at her for a moment before relenting, shaking her head. "Just...put it over there with the rest."
"You're totally gonna have people puking in the bushes tonight," Brittany said with a giggle.
"That's not helping me, Britt," Quinn sighed.
"Whoa, what the-" Santana stopped short, staring past the pool in horror at the makeshift stage. "Is that what I think it is? No! No effin' way, Quinn! I thought this was going to be an actual party. Like you used to throw! Not some...Berry freak show! We're so out of here."
Santana grabbed Brittany's arm and tried to storm out, but Quinn grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around, marching her right back towards the pool deck. "Shut up and deal with it. By the end of the night, we'll have to hold you down to pry the microphone out of your hands and you know it."
"It looks like fun, San! We could totally dance on there too. Let's go pick out our songs!"
With that, Brittany had easily taken over the situation. She traded Quinn the box she was holding for Santana and dragged the Latina towards the sound system where the book was for all the songs Rachel had for her karaoke system. By the time Quinn had taken out all the bottles to put on the table, Santana didn't seem that bothered by it anymore, and after a few minutes more, she was laughing with her girlfriend, looking excited by the prospect of getting their turn up there.
"Hey, guys! How about we do 'Call Me May-'?"
"NO!" came the simultaneous cry from every single person at the party except for Brittany who was nodding her approval.
Tina frowned and went back to looking through song choices. "But it's the top song of the summer..." She muttered to herself.
Sam was manning the grill with Puck, but Rachel kept running over to make sure they didn't burn anything or ruin her vegetable kabobs by letting them touch the burgers and hotdogs. Quinn made sure she locked the pool house ahead of time, but she still caught Santana trying to pick the lock. There was a ten second screaming match before Brittany announced it was time for a chicken fight, scooped Santana up into her arms, and took them both into the pool at a run.
They ended up having a tournament, which Artie eagerly kept a tally of on the deck. Almost all of the Gleeks participated and even Quinn got in the pool to let Rachel up on her shoulders. (Rachel insisted it was either Quinn or Puck, so it's not like the blonde had a choice.) But in the end, they lost to the undefeated winners, Santana and Brittany. Santana insisted that their prize be Rachel gagged for the rest of the party or Quinn allowing her and Brittany into the main house. Both requests were summarily denied and Quinn managed to get even with Santana later by "accidentally" hip checking her into the pool.
"IT'S MY TURN!" Rachel announced loudly to everyone and no one in particular. They were well into the evening and well into Brittany's box of liquor. "I WANNA SING! Get away from my cups!" She shoved Puck back who was trying to refill her drink like she'd asked him to, but had forgotten in the last two minutes. "Get your own, Puckerman!"
Before Quinn could reach her obviously drunk girlfriend, an equally inebriated Blaine grabbed Rachel's hand and pulled her up to the stage.
"YESH!" Rachel slurred and tossed her cup onto the grass without a second thought and fumbled for her bedazzled microphone.
Puck was not one to be deterred. He was dying to see how drunk he could get Rachel Berry for the first time in her life and handed her another wine cooler when she was up on the stage. The memory struck all too close with Quinn and the rage began to whip through her. She downed the shot that Mercedes handed her without so much as a wince and stormed over to Puckerman, prepared to have it out with him, but Sam got there first.
She watched in confusion as Sam seemed to be angry. Puck was acting innocent. But Sam wouldn't let it go, and before she knew it, he had shoved Puck and ducked the return swing. That was all that happened before Mike intervened, jumping behind Puck and held him back before he could go after Sam again. Sam just shook his head in disgust and said something else angrily, which Quinn couldn't hear, before walking away.
She hardly had time to register anything when Rachel's amplified voice was shouting, "IT TASTES LIKE PINK! QUINNNNNNNN! IT TASTES LIKE PINK!"
She waved the already empty bottle in the air while Blaine was shadow boxing...without the shadows.
Rachel and Blaine were hardly the only ones drunk. Every single person at that party was wasted with the exception of Kurt who was the designated driver for the night. Quinn was no exception to the rule. She'd had her fair share as well, which is why she didn't have the sense to keep Rachel away from the microphone.
"IT TASTES LIKE PINK A-AND FAIRIES AND PUSS-"
"RACHEL!" Quinn cried, stumbling over to the stage. "Sing with Blaine!"
"What should I sing?" Rachel slurred, bewildered by the blonde's obvious stress.
"Anything! Anything at all! Just sing, okay, sweetie? Sing for us."
"PLAINE BLANDERSON!" she announced loudly into her microphone. "WE'RE SHINGING TOGETHER!"
He looked up in confusion and twirled around a few times as he tried to find out who it was that was booming that voice down from the heavens at him before finding Rachel with relief. Kurt put the music on and to Quinn's relief, Rachel was then occupied doing something far safer and more enjoyable for everyone.
You were workin' as a waitress in a cocktail bar,When I met you. I picked you up,
I shook you out,
And turned you around.
Turned you into someone new.
Everyone else perked up and people were singing along as they danced around the pool, drinks flying, hands groping, tongues tangled.
Don't you want me, baby?
Rachel eyed Quinn hungrily and the blonde nearly tripped backwards over Sam who was on the ground on his back with his legs kicking in the air as he wailed on an air guitar.
Don't you want me? Oh!
"I WANT YOU!" Santana sobbed with her straw in her mouth and waved at the duo. "I DO!"
Brittany was too busy taking her bikini top off and rocking out to the song to console her girlfriend, but it turns out that was just what Santana needed anyway.
"Take it, mah shorties!" Artie shouted at Rachel and Blaine, swaying his arms in the air before he realized Brittany was topless and his attention switched at lightning speed.
Body shots, skinny dipping, more alcohol, more food, strip poker, more music, and even more alcohol had everyone well on their way into a coma for the night by the time Quinn sobered up enough to kick them all out at three o'clock in the morning. Her neighbors would never call the police - it wasn't their style - but she was certainly in for a grounding when her mother came home and answered the dozen different calls about her teenage daughter's "out of control" house party.
"BEST PARTY EVER!" Mike whooped as he spun Tina around on the front lawn before tripping, sending them both rolling on the grass.
Most of the group piled into Artie's van, which Kurt borrowed for the night. But Rachel stayed behind and Quinn was too tired to fight with Santana anymore so she let her and Brittany sleep it off in the guest room. She wasn't worried about being kept up by any inappropriate noises because Santana was already passed out when Brittany flung her over her shoulder and carried her up the stairs.
When everyone was finally gone, Quinn was too tired to worry about the disaster zone that was her backyard and instead curled up with Rachel on one of the lounge chaises, putting a blanket over them both to stave off the cool night air. Rachel was between her legs, nodding off, while Quinn watched the stars.
She had made sure they both stopped drinking after Rachel's duet with Blaine. Quinn did it because she didn't want Rachel to go so far that she spent the rest of the night praying to the porcelain god, especially when she knew it was the first time Rachel had ever gotten drunk. But she also did it for her own sanity because a drunken Rachel meant an even more unfiltered Rachel, which was like putting a toddler next to a big red button that could set off nuclear missiles to decimate half the planet.
It was just better for all of them in the long run and Rachel only protested a little before Quinn made up for it by unlocking the pool house for their own use. She expected to have to run interference with Puck still trying to sneak drinks into Rachel's hand, but he seemed to have forgotten all about it and was just enjoying the party, particularly Brittany's show, which he seemed to regard a personal gift from God.
Puck and God had a really odd relationship.
"What are you thinking about?" Rachel mumbled sleepily and shifted to curl into Quinn's warmth.
She wasn't as plastered as she was earlier, but she was hardly sober yet. Rachel had spent most of the night either up on stage or draped over Quinn, neither of which bothered Quinn in the least. She was fascinated by a drunk Rachel. Having her girlfriend in her lap most of the night seemed to change her own drunken temperament into a far more pleasant one. She laughed more than she could remember ever laughing at a party like this and didn't have a single angry outburst the whole time. Considering how much she drank in the beginning, it was an unprecedented event.
Every time she drank to a certain point, it seemed like everything and everyone who crossed her path could manage to make her see red.
YOU BREATHED ON MY CUP? DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH?
HOW DARE YOU WEAR THAT FOUL ORANGE DRESS WHEN YOU KNOW IT'S OUR RIVALS TEAM COLORS? GET OUT! I DON'T CARE IF IT'S YOUR HOUSE, THEY'RE MY EYES!
YOU ACTUALLY BROUGHT SOUR LEMONS TO MY PARTY?
I CAN'T BELIEVE WHAT YOU DID TO MY BODY! I USED TO HAVE ABS!
WHY ISN'T THE SALT LESS SALTY? AND IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE KOSHER!
She was an angry drunk - she knew that - and she actually kind of thought she deserved to be considering all that happened, but Rachel's warmth at her side, kissing her neck, singing constantly, laughing and being crazy, just brought about a sense of peace in her. She didn't even bat an eye when Brittany puked in the hedges or when the boys threw some of the patio furniture into the pool.
Actually, she could still see one of the plastic chairs floating around in there.
Oh, well...fishing expedition tomorrow.
"Someone once told me that they liked astronomy because compared to the vastness of space, it made their problems feel that much smaller. I'm trying to figure out if that's true," Quinn answered softly.
"Does it make you feel smaller?"
"Yeah. But not in a bad way. I just...never spent much time looking up before. It's different."
"Mhm," she agreed with a yawn. "You were always staring straight ahead, making sure no one got in your way or you'd have them slapped with a liquid iceberg. The most piercing gaze in all of McKinley...not to mention the most feared."
Quinn didn't know what to say. It was the truth...just not a truth she wanted to think of herself anymore. To hear Rachel refer to it so casually kind of hurt. It's not like she was being mean or she was doing something wrong by saying it... It still just hurt. Quinn didn't want Rachel to think of her like that. She didn't want her to remember it. But that was foolish.
"Who told you that?" Rachel asked after a beat when Quinn didn't respond. "The thing about astronomy?"
"Sam. He said it before he tried to kiss me for the first time."
"Oh."
"He also thought Mars was the planet of love."
She wrinkled her nose. "Isn't Mars the Roman god of war?"
Quinn chuckled. "Yeah."
"So I guess you two really were on different planets."
"Obviously."
Rachel rolled her eyes and looked back up at Quinn over her shoulder.
"He seemed...better...tonight."
She nodded. "He did."
Quinn's mind flashed back to the beginning of the party when Sam and Puck had nearly gotten into a brawl. She still didn't know what that was about. She wanted to be able to ask him about it tomorrow, but she didn't know if they were at the point where that kind of conversation would be okay again.
"Does that make you happy?"
"I want my friend back. You know that."
"I do. I want it for you too."
"It's not weird for you?"
"I think it's weird for all of us right now. But, with time, we'll be able to move past it. I'm actually looking forward to that."
"Yeah..."
Rachel looked up at the sky and was silent for a long moment.
"I don't like it."
"What?"
"Feeling small." She curled her hand into a circle around her eye and pretended to peer through it as though it were a telescope. "It goes against my core beliefs. One should feel and be larger than life, actual physical stature notwithstanding. How else can you make your way to the top? I don't understand how the notion of being insignificant could be comforting." She scoffed and dropped her hand, burrowing down even further, if possible. "You're so warm and comfy," she mumbled against Quinn's chest. "Your breasts are the best pillows in the whole wide world...also the prettiest."
Quinn giggled and tightened her arms around her. Rachel was still tipsy and missing the point, but it didn't matter; she probably would have said the same thing stone sober. Rachel would always be exactly who she is - to hell with everyone else - and it was one of the things Quinn admired, not to mention loved, about her the most.
"Call Me Maybe" by Carly Rae Jepsen (Yes, I know this actually came out the summer after this one based on my timeline, but just go with it!)
"Don't You Want Me" by Human League