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Silly Author's Note: I found Jade! This might not mean much to most of you, but those of you who follow me on twitter ( mj_duncan) will know that she disappeared on me and I had been trying desperately to find her. Turns out what it took to force her away from the harem of redheads she was busy *ahem* entertaining, hehehe, was a little R&I smut. Huh. Who knew. I have filed this information away for later use in case she goes AWOL on me again. Good news now that she's back is that I may finally break through this writer's block that I've been suffering with because she has this uncanny ability to get my Muse motivated to write. So, yea!

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Serious Author's Note: Okeydokey peeps. A bit of housekeeping before we get to the update. I'd apologize, but it's completely necessary, so whatever.

The reason this update is late in being posted is that the ff admins have targeted a few of my stories for removal, thus putting me onto a kind of cyber-time-out, if you will, as punishment for whatever infractions they feel I've committed. Rumor floating around on tumblr is that the admins are trying to pull all the porn from the site (and that rumor, to me, does seem to have at least a small fraction of truth to it seeing as I have had fics removed that have been up for a couple of years now), which means that pretty much all my stories will eventually be yanked because, well, I write a lot of smut. Porn. Erotica. Whatever. I'll keep posting here until they do pull it, but I won't get any kind of warning before they remove my stories so I thought it'd be best to give you guys some of the other places I post (just take out the spaces, you know the drill) in case it does happen:

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My Webpage: mjduncan. wordpress. com

My AO3: archiveofourown / users / mjduncan

My LJ: author18. livejournal. com

My Dreamwidth (this site actually seems to work okay): mjduncan. dreamwidth. org

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Anon (or non-account) commenting is allowed on all of these sites, and though some ask for your email before comments are posted, your email WILL NOT be posted for everyone to see. Really, that's the best I can do with what's going on now, so hopefully the rumor mill is wrong and this story (and others) will remain hosted on the site, but in case it doesn't at least you all know where to find it.

I know I've been slacking with the replying to comments lately (life is just crazy and it's a wonder I find time to post at all), but I do want to send out a great big THANK YOU to everybody who has been kind enough to leave a review (I really do love reading what you all think of each chapter after it's posted), and to the thousand plus of you who have favorited/alerted this story… you'll never know how much I appreciate the fact that you all actually want to read something I wrote. It truly is a wondrous feeling. So, thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

~MJ

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CHAPTER 48

Quinn groaned as she came awake the next morning, her hands automatically flying to cover her eyes from the bright morning sun. Her head was pounding with what had to be the most painful headache ever known by man and she licked her lips compulsively, trying to dispel the rancid cotton-mouth taste that had developed while she'd slept. The bed shifted beside her and she moaned piteously. "Turn the sun off, Rachel."

"Can't do that, sport," Rachel murmured, chuckling as she reached out to brush the blonde's hair off her face. "How you feeling?"

Quinn groaned again and rolled over, burying her head in the pillow to try and block out the harsh morning sunlight. "Like ass."

"I'll bet," Rachel said. She reached out and began rubbing Quinn's back, and smiled as she felt the blonde relax under her touch. "You were hammered, baby."

Quinn nodded and then stopped abruptly, whimpering in pain. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Rachel soothed, still stroking her fingers lightly up and down Quinn's spine. "Santana will be coming by in about an hour to take you for hash browns and stuff."

"Thank god," Quinn groaned. With the way she was feeling, it was probably going to take an extra hash brown and one of those super-jumbo-sized Diet Cokes to make her feel better. "Any chance she'd just bring it to me?"

Rachel laughed quietly and leaned in to press a soft kiss to the back of the blonde's shoulder. "I don't think so, baby. I think she wants some time alone with her best friend before her wedding."

Quinn shivered at the feeling of Rachel's lips against her skin and moaned softly as she felt the tip of the brunette's tongue draw a light circle on her shoulder. "Mmm, do that again," she hummed, turning her head so that her face wasn't pressed into the pillow.

Even though she was certain that this wasn't going to go anywhere, Rachel obliged Quinn's request and leaned in to press another kiss to her back, and then another one, and another, as she shifted so that she pushed herself up so that she could lean further to capture the blonde's lips in a sweet, chaste kiss. "You'll get more of those once you brush your teeth," she informed her as she pulled away.

"I wish I felt good enough to do that," Quinn replied, grimacing as her head pulsed viciously. "Seriously, how much did I drink?"

"Way. Too. Much," Rachel replied, smoothing her hand across the blonde's brow before tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "Do you remember anything that happened?"

Quinn closed her eyes, her brow furrowing as she tried to remember what had happened the night before. Thinking hurt, but there was something in Rachel's tone that told her she had done or said something stupid and she knew that she needed to know what that was so that she could try and fix it. The memories started out fuzzy, but quickly sharpened into focus the more she concentrated on trying to remember. She remembered singing with Santana and the way Rachel had kissed her after they'd finished. She remembered dancing with the brunette and drinking some more. She had a vague memory of trying to hump Rachel on the dance floor, the way she kept trying to grab the brunette's boobs, whispering crude propositions in her ear, yelling… "Did I really yell to Santana that I was going to get some when we were leaving?"

"Mmm." Rachel nodded. "And don't forget shouting that you wanted me to fuck you."

At the mention of that particular moment, Quinn blushed. "I thought I whispered that."

"Definitely wasn't a whisper," Rachel informed her with a smile.

Quinn licked her lips and sighed. "Oh. Sorry?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Sweetie, it was fine. I actually enjoyed seeing you let loose like that. However, for as amusing as you were, I think we need to save Tequila Quinn for non-public locations. And, I do want that lap dance you offered me last night, by the way."

"I don't think I can do that right now, sweetheart," Quinn murmured, squeezing her eyes shut. The longer they talked, the more her head started pounding. "Rain check?"

"We don't have time right now anyways," Rachel said. "So, sure." She paused, debating whether or not to bring up the blonde's emotional breakdown or not. On the one hand, she knew they needed to at least talk about it a little bit, but on the other hand, she knew that they had talked the subject to death over the last couple months and that it was just the alcohol bringing out Quinn's insecurities.

"I'm sorry I started crying on you last night," Quinn whispered. Though the majority of the night was somewhat hazy, she had a perfect recollection of the way that she'd broken down on the brunette, sobbing about not wanting to lose her and how she was afraid that she was going to do something to make Rachel leave.

Rachel sighed and laid down next to Quinn so that they were nose-to-nose. She smiled reassuringly as she reached out to gently stroke the edge of the blonde's jaw with the back of her hand. Yes, they had had this particular talk in different forms many different times, but maybe they needed to have it again. Plainly. Simply. "You know I'm not going anywhere, right? That I want to marry you, just as much as you want to marry me?" She watched Quinn suck her lip between her teeth and worry it, and she turned her hand over so that she was cradling the blonde's face in her palm. "I know we've talked about this, sweetie. You have to let the past go. Because we have an incredible future ahead of us. One that we'll take on together. Okay?"

Quinn nodded and slowly turned her head to press a soft kiss to the middle of Rachel's palm. So long as she didn't move too quickly, she was hoping that her headache wouldn't get any worse. "I know. It's just… still a fear of mine. I do know that you love me," she assured her. "I do. I'm sorry I did that to you. I know you love me, I feel it-" she pointed at her heart, "but just… please know that it's not you that I don't trust. It's me that I don't trust. I'm still learning, Rach. Besides San, Britt, and Puck, I don't have a lot of experience with people not running away from me. And I want to be enough for you. I want nothing more than to be the person you need most in the world and I'm so, so sorry I unloaded all of that on you last night. Lord knows you of all people don't deserve to deal with my baggage."

It was heartbreaking for Rachel to see that Quinn – after everything they'd been through and after every promise they'd made each other – still believed that she wasn't good enough for her love. "I do deserve to deal with all of your baggage," Rachel argued, albeit gently, as she leaned in to kiss the blonde softly. "Because it isn't baggage, sweetheart. It's what makes you, you. And I love you. All of you. And I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life loving you." She kissed her again. If this is what Quinn needed to feel better, then she would kiss her for as long as it took to make her understand that she wasn't going anywhere. And, with the blonde's tequila laced morning-breath, that was the purest form of love there was.

A shy, pleased smile tweaked Quinn's lips as she reached out to wrap and arm around Rachel's waist. "I love you."

"I know," Rachel murmured, smoothing her thumb over Quinn's cheek. They laid there in silence for a few minutes, just staring into each other's eyes, until Rachel's gaze swept over to the alarm clock on the nightstand behind Quinn. It was getting late and the blonde definitely needed to shower before she went out with Santana for breakfast. "Santana will be here in half an hour. Can you get to the shower on your own?"

Quinn nodded and rolled over onto her back. She winced at the brightness of the room and flung her arm over her eyes as she groaned. "Why can't they serve breakfast all day?"

"I don't know," Rachel replied, chuckling. "Come on, sweetheart. Up you get." She reached out and helped Quinn into a sitting position. "Okay?"

"You would think sitting up would make the blood pounding in my brain go somewhere else, but it doesn't," Quinn whined. "It just makes it worse."

"I know, baby," Rachel said placatingly as she bit back the urge to remind Quinn that it was her own fault that she felt so terrible. "Do you want me to see if I can get room service to bring up a Gatorade for you to drink before you two go? I was going to order me a vegan croissant, a fruit bowl, and some coffee…"

Quinn gagged at the idea of drinking anything that wasn't Diet Coke from a tap. While nausea wasn't one of the effects she was feeling from her hangover, her stomach wasn't ready for anything that didn't have thick syrup and bubbles in it. "Um, no. Thank you," she added. "Are you sure you don't want to go with us?"

Rachel laughed and nodded. "Yeah. I'll manage just fine with my healthy breakfast. Honestly, I don't see how you can eat that junk anyways, let alone in the condition you have got to be in now."

"Well," Quinn said, groaning softly as she turned and set her feet on the floor. She shifted back and forth on the edge of the bed a couple times, letting her legs get used to the idea that they would have to support her soon, and pushed slowly to her feet. So far, so good. Her legs didn't collapse under her. "I can't explain it, really. Diet Coke from a tap has less bubbles than Coke from a can so it's heavier, which, combined with the grease from the hash browns and stuff, just makes my hangover go away." She smiled at Rachel's disbelieving expression. "Like I said, I can't explain it. I just know it works."

"And that crap will make your hangover magically disappear?" Rachel asked, flabbergasted.

Quinn smirked, the grin turning into a grimace as she shuffled across the room. "Pretty much. I brought up my super-dark sunglasses, right? That sun is wicked."

"Um…" Rachel looked around the suite for the glasses that Quinn had worn the day before. "Your aviators with the reflective lenses. Are those good?"

Quinn grunted. "I guess they'll have to be. How long do I have until S shows up?"

Rachel glanced at the clock. "About twenty-six minutes, more or less. Do you need anything? Besides Tylenol – which I set out for you on the counter?"

Quinn shook her head, causing her messy hair to flop adorably, and pushed her panties down over her hips so that she was naked. Had she been feeling better she would have made the whole thing more of a tease, but she just didn't have the energy. Maybe later. After her soda, McMuffin, and hash browns. "Thank you, for that. I'm good."

Even hung-over and barely-human, Quinn was still absolutely breathtaking and Rachel sighed as she ogled her lover. Really, if she didn't know that Quinn was hers and hers alone, and that she was the only one who got to truly admire and touch her, she would have said that it wasn't fair for her to be so beautiful. Instead she just felt blessed. Blessed that, somehow, Quinn chose to let her see her the way she truly was, with no walls, and just… her. And that, more than anything, was what made the blonde beautiful to her. Because Quinn was just as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside. "Right. Well, chop-chop, Fabray. Santana's going to be here soon and you two are going to want to get to McDonalds before they stop serving breakfast."

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True to her word, Santana knocked on Quinn and Rachel's door at ten o'clock on the button. The Latina grinned as a thoroughly hung-over Quinn threw the door open and glared at her. Not that she could see Quinn's eyes, the former head Cheerio was wearing a pair of sunglasses, but she and Quinn had done this particular dance enough times for her to know exactly what the blonde looked like underneath those four hundred dollar aviators she was so fond of. So, instead of making some kind of flippant comment that Quinn was no doubt expecting, she ignored her completely and looked around the taller woman's side to catch Rachel's eye. "I'll have her back in an hour or so!"

Rachel nodded and waved, smiling from her position in the doorway to the veranda where her room service breakfast was set out for her to enjoy. "Take your time. You guys have fun. What's Brittany doing?"

"She's at breakfast with her mom," Santana said. "We'll meet up with them and my mom at the spa later."

"Your mother doesn't want to have breakfast with you on the day of your wedding?" Rachel asked, arching a brow in surprise.

Santana chuckled and shook her head. "Nah. Her and my father have gone up to one of the local wineries for a fancy brunch. She'll be back around one to meet us at the spa."

"If I miss my McMuffin because you wanted to shoot the shit with Rachel, I will kill you," Quinn muttered darkly.

The Latina let loose a bark of laughter and nodded as she backed away from the door and into the hall. "I'll take Miss Bitchy Pants and get her fixed up," she said, smirking at the quite grunt her comment had gotten from Quinn. "Do you have your room key, drunkie?"

Quinn slapped weakly at the pockets of her shorts and nodded. "Yeah."

"Excellent!" Santana yelled, smirking at the way Quinn winced. "Bye Rachel!"

Quinn turned and waved at her girlfriend. Her goodbye was much more subdued, but she knew Rachel wouldn't mind. She smiled at the way Rachel blew her a kiss and she was in the middle of returning the gesture when Santana pulled her unceremoniously out into the hall. "Watch it!" she huffed, as the door slammed shut behind them.

"God, I forgot what a wuss you are when you're hung-over," Santana muttered as she stalked off down the hall. "Let's get that fixed A-SAP, yeah?"

Quinn fought the urge to roll her eyes at the Latina – she knew that it would hurt like a bitch if she did it – and followed the bride-to-be down the hall. The trip to the car and across town to the McDonalds was made in silence and it was only after Quinn got that first giant bite of one of her hash brown into her system, which was followed with an immediate gulp of Diet Coke, that she found the energy to speak. "Fuck, that's good."

"Fucking magic," Santana agreed, as she took a bite of her breakfast sandwich. "So, on a scale of one to ten, how hung-over are you?"

Quinn took another bite of hash brown and chewed thoughtfully. "Probably an eight," she said, after she'd swallowed. "Definitely not as bad as that time in Vegas."

Santana nodded and grinned at the memory. Quinn had just started dating Jamie and the four of them had jumped over to Sin City for the weekend. Brittany, because of her contacts within the industry, had gotten them into a couple of the hottest clubs at the time and Quinn had, very unwisely, began mixing her drinks. The poor blonde ended up completely trashed, and proceeded to then throw up down the front of Jamie's dress as she'd tried to stick her face in the brunette's cleavage. Then she'd started laughing, which quickly turned to crying and apologizing as she sobbed about slushies and who knew what else. That was just one of the many times that Santana knew Quinn was using the brunette as a replacement for another, more talented, woman who she was afraid she would never be able to have. "That was a pretty awesome weekend. I would have killed your ass if you'd have thrown up on me like that though."

"Mmm," Quinn hummed, nodding slowly in agreement as she shoved the remaining half of her first hash brown into her mouth.

Studying her friend carefully, Santana decided that Quinn looked to be coherent enough to have a serious conversation. It wasn't one she wanted to have, but just like she'd given Rachel 'the talk' the night before, she needed to see where Quinn's head was at when it came to all things Berry. So, she put her breakfast sandwich down on its wax-paper wrapper and leveled her with an unmistakably serious look. "You kind of freaked Berry out with your crying and shit last night."

Quinn paused mid-chew. "How did you know about that?"

"Gross. Swallow before you speak, you heathen," Santana admonished with a light chuckle. "Rachel called me and Britt down to help get you into bed after your drunk ass crashed on her. Apparently she was in the middle of getting you into your jammies when you passed out because when we got there you were wearing nothing but a pair of bikini briefs."

"Great," Quinn mumbled around a mouthful of potato. "What did you say to her?"

Santana rolled her eyes and took a sip of her coffee. "Fuck, that shit's really kind of awful. Chill, Q. I didn't say nothing to her," she lied, knowing that Rachel would keep their conversation private. It was, after all, to protect Quinn, and she'd vowed after Judy and Russell had walked out on the blonde the last time that she would always do whatever she could to take care of her former captain. "So… for reals. What's up, Q?"

"Same shit, different day," Quinn muttered, sighing as she took a sip of her coke. "Just, me stuff. I guess. You know how I get sometimes."

"I do." Santana nodded sagely. "Which is why I'm going to ask you this: Do you want to screw things up with her?"

Quinn gaped. "Of course not! Why would you say that?"

"Chill, blondie. Fuck," Santana muttered. "Look. Berry… Rachel, she really does love you, Q. Just like me and B and Puck, and you need to know that she's not going anywhere."

"I know," Quinn sighed, scrubbing a hand over her face. "I know. It's just… and no offense, but she's the only one I have ever truly let in. Like, all the way. She knows all of me, and that's scary as fuck, San. And if I lose her…"

"You're not going to lose her though, Q," Santana said softly as she leaned into the table so that she could keep her voice down and still be heard. "That girl is crazy in love with you. I don't know if you see it, but she is. Even when you fuck up, because we all do and it's inevitable that you will too, she ain't going nowhere. She looks at you like Britt looks at me – it's called love, Q. And, for as much as I would have given you a hard time about Berry back in the day, she's good for you. Really, it's almost disgusting how perfect you guys are for each other. So just… I dunno. Relax. Enjoy feeling happy. Because everybody deserves to be happy, Q. Even you. Especially you."

"I am happy," Quinn murmured.

"Good." Feeling that everything that needed to be said had been said, Santana decided to change the subject in the best way she knew how – by bringing up something completely inappropriate. "So, now that all the deep and serious shit is out of the way, I have to tell ya that you still have quite the amazing rack on you there, Cap."

Quinn rolled her eyes and chuckled softly at that very Santana segue to all things less serious. "Thanks."

The Latina grinned and looked down at her own chest. "Course, it's not as nice as mine…"

Quinn smirked and picked up her McMuffin. "Yeah, but mine are real."

"You're just jealous," Santana retorted with a wink.

"Of what? Your tits? Hardly."

"Of the fact that I'm getting married this afternoon."

Quinn huffed a laugh and nodded. "Yeah, I'm a little jealous about that."

The Latina chuckled and arched a brow at the blonde that quite clearly said, 'I know'. "When are you going to give up on your whole fucked-up 'it's too soon' idea and just fucking go for it?"

Quinn shrugged and looked around the restaurant to make sure that nobody was paying any real attention to them. She was wearing an old pair of boardshorts and a Roxy t-shirt, flip flops, and her hair was pulled back into a messy bun, so she doubted that anyone would really notice her, but she was aware enough of her celebrity to be wary. Thankfully, they had the back corner of the place to themselves and not even the pimply kid mopping the floor paid them any attention. "I think I already did," she said, smiling softly as she reached for her drink. "Yesterday."

"Oh, really?" Santana drawled, hiking a brow expectantly. "And, do we have plans yet?"

Quinn fiddled with the straw of her drink and shook her head. "Not yet. Her dads are coming out to visit next weekend though, and I'm debating talking to them then."

Santana nodded. "That's a good idea. I'm sure they'll appreciate the gesture."

"I hope so," Quinn muttered. She took a deep breath and held it for a moment before she let it go with a loud huff. "But, enough about me. You are getting married this afternoon and you're scarfing down two Egg McMuffins? Aren't you worried about fitting into your dress?"

Santana scoffed and, to prove her point, tore off another huge bite of her breakfast sandwich. "Hardly. I need the calories. Energy for tonight, you know."

Quinn chuckled and rolled her eyes. "Right. Of course."

...