Five years have passed since Rachel and Finn's divorce, and within that same year, the rest of the glee club found out. Word, regardless on whether they were in high school or not, still travelled fast. They each took the time to call Rachel and Finn – separately – to express their heartfelt apologies, their concerns. They both appreciated the calls, but both remained unfazed and they remained good friends. Whenever Finn visited Kurt and Blaine in New York, he never failed to visit Quinn and Rachel.
Quinn's bravado about giving Rachel space post-divorce did not get very far, thanks to the condition of the New York real estate market. To save money and to finally escape the continuous sounds of moaning and copulation from Brittany and Santana, Quinn moved in with Rachel in an apartment that overlooked a park. At three in the morning, it was almost as peaceful as being back in Lima.
Within the five years, Quinn worked her way through the ranks of the theatre staff until she became – by sheer luck she would argue, but Rachel would claim talent and hard work – Phoenix Theatre's artistic director.
This meant that she had a major decisive power when it came to the shows their theatre wanted to produce. One play in particular caught her attention – about a small-town girl whose talent outshined everyone and their mother, whose dreams stretched and yawned to reach the bright lights of the city of New York. Quinn immediately put the bid to produce it, and she swore she had no idea that Rachel was chosen to play the starring role.
"You really didn't know, huh?" Elaine asked. She was now a member of the board of directors, and she chose Quinn for the position of artistic director for the theatre.
"She told me she auditioned for a role, got it, but she didn't tell me what the story was about. She's superstitious like that," Quinn explained. "But if it's an issue – "
"It's not the first time we produced a play where a director has a wife in the cast so don't sweat it too much," Elaine said before sipping coffee from her porcelain mug. Quinn clamped her lips together, not sure if she should correct Elaine's assumption of Quinn's marital status, but she chose to remain silent instead – the mistake, if she would even call it that, left her giddy, more than anything else. "It would only be a problem if Rachel got the role because of your recommendation – which is not the case at all."
When the production for Rachel's musical began – titled Ohio! of all things – Quinn made sure that she showed no bias for her. Still, the fact that Rachel was the lead actress meant she had access to certain boons, like the best dressing room, the ear of the director, and in turn, the loving eyes of the Phoenix Theatre's artistic director. During rehearsals, Quinn stood by the wings, watching in awe as Rachel lit up the stage with her presence.
The director called for a short break while she worked with the other lead. Rachel skipped on over to Quinn but was interrupted by a production assistant who handed her a bottle of water.
"Here's some water, Mrs. Fabray," she said.
"Oh! Thank you," Rachel flushed. Being called Mrs. Fabray was certainly… something. It filled her belly with a pleasant warmth, made her queasy with love as she accepted the bottle. She drank from it as she approached Quinn. "You shouldn't watch me during rehearsals! It loses the magic and mystique when you watch me for opening night!" She complained.
"I help you with your lines all the time," Quinn said with a raised brow.
"I know, but those are just lines. This is different!"
Quinn rolled her eyes and tugged Rachel to a dark corner of the theatre. Pushed her against the wall as Rachel's arms wound around her neck, a delighted grin on her face.
"I have to say… this is definitely the best perk of dating a staff member," Rachel said softly against Quinn's neck. She gave Quinn's pale skin a gentle bite, hips pushing out to press against the blonde. Quinn trailed a mouthful of kisses along the column of Rachel's neck, her jaw, her cheeks to her mouth. Rachel grabbed a fistful of Quinn's shirt. Lips parted to take Quinn's tongue into her mouth as she moaned, breathless and needy.
Through the speakers scattered throughout the backstage area, they heard the director's announcement that asked the actors to get back to their marks. Quinn pulled back from a dazed Rachel, and the blonde grinned. "Hey, look alive. You look about ready to sleep."
Rachel snapped to attention and gave Quinn a half-hearted frown. "And whose fault is that?" She asked as she followed Quinn out of the dark hallway to head back to the stage.
The director glanced at Rachel and then at Quinn. "You look flustered. You ran a marathon or something?" She asked Rachel who turned red and buried her face into the script rather than dignify the question with a response. Quinn giggled to herself. She caught Rachel's eye and blew her a kiss before returning to the office so her girlfriend could focus on her work – and so she could focus on hers.
Hours passed as Quinn, with her glasses perched on her nose and her hair tied in a loose bun, prepared the press materials for the various plays, stage shows, and musicals that their theatre would be producing. Time flew past – and quickly too, that she did not notice that rehearsals were over if it were not for Rachel's knocks against her office door.
"Come in," Quinn said, leaning back to give her back a stretch.
"We're all done rehearsing. Do you want to go home together?" Rachel entered the office and closed the door behind her. She fumbled with the door knob until there was a soft click of the lock. Quinn removed her glasses and folded them on top of her desk. She smirked.
"I was going to say yes but you seem to have other ideas, Miss Berry."
"Did you know one of the production assistants called me Mrs. Fabray today?"
Quinn's expression remained unchanged. "Oh? And how did that make you feel?"
"Good – warm," Rachel walked to Quinn's side of the desk and hopped to sit on its surface. Still in her habit of wearing short skirts and thigh highs, she crossed her legs and looked at Quinn with meaningful eyes. "Anyway, do you want to hear my idea?"
Quinn crossed her fingers together and rested them on top of her stomach. "Enlighten me, then."
Rather than use her words, Rachel chose to act instead. She climbed on top of Quinn's lap and kissed her with the same heat, the same need as before. As if they had not been interrupted, as if just picking up from where they left off. Quinn moaned, low and deep against Rachel's mouth as she guided the blonde's hands up the hem of her sweater. She raked her blunt nails against the smoothness of Rachel's skin. Goosebumps rose across her back and a low shudder rippled through her body.
"I bet you never thought we'd fuck on your desk at work, huh?" Rachel said, her breasts rising and falling with every shallow breath she took. She reclined on her back, skirt hiked up, sweater halfway up her torso, the cups of her bra askew. Her hair a scattered mess across Quinn's desk who looked at her with a smug grin on her face.
"That's not true – I've thought about it lots of times," Quinn wiped her fingers on some tissue and threw it in the garbage bin. "Let's go home. Can you stand?"
Rachel giggled and held up a hand. "Give me five minutes.
It was the last show of the season and Rachel was already half in tears in front of her bowl of cereal that morning. Quinn kissed the back of her neck and rubbed her shoulders in a soothing caress. "Time flies fast when you're having fun, huh?"
"I know," Rachel sobbed, her spoon clattering against the side of the porcelain bowl. She turned and held out her arms, and immediately Quinn hugged her. "I'm going to miss this show so much."
"You're literally the main character though."
"Yes, but at least in the play people like my character."
Quinn kissed Rachel. "People like you. They're just too intimidated to say it to your face."
"But I'm not intimidating, am I?" Rachel looked up at Quinn with her slightly-puffed reddened eyes, her small pout. Quinn laughed and kissed her cheek.
"You're the least intimidating person I know, but when you're wearing your paparazzi sunglasses you can be a bit hard to read." Quinn stood and kissed the top of Rachel's head. "I'm going to go to the theatre early. We're having an afterparty, okay? Don't forget."
Rachel watched Quinn leave through the front door. She finished eating her breakfast, did the dishes, and went into the bathroom to shower. She had a few hours to kill before she had to head to the theatre but still, she changed into a pair of black jeans, a black cowl neck sweater, and tied her hair in a ponytail. She donned her sunglasses and rushed out of the apartment to meet Santana in a café.
"You look like you're about to rob a store," Santana greeted as Rachel sat on the seat across from her.
"Hello to you too," she huffed.
"Did you get it?"
Rachel nodded and carefully retrieved a piece of string in her pocket which she handed to Santana. "I already measured it. It's around fifty-seven millimetres."
Santana consulted the chart on her phone. "So that's a size eight. How'd you get this?" She gestured towards the string.
"Tied it around Quinn's finger while she was asleep."
"Nice. She is a heavy sleeper." She downed the rest of the coffee from her mug and sighed. "Are you ready?"
Rachel barely had a chance to catch her breath and drink her coffee but she nodded regardless. Along with Santana, they headed into the mall and towards a jewelry store. The rings, the glint of gold, the sparkle of the diamonds made the store glisten and shimmer. A man in a crisp suit straightened at the sight of the two women. "Mrs. Lopez, should I be alarmed or relieved to see you back again so soon?"
"Neither, thank you very much. Carter, this is Rachel Berry. She's in need of your expertise today."
"Pleasure to meet you," Carter dipped his head and flexed his long, tapered fingers. "What are you looking for?"
"An engagement ring – for my girlfriend," Rachel said. It was overwhelming to be in such a place full of lights. Everything sparkled and Rachel felt the need to squint as she looked down at the display case filled with bracelets, lockets, and necklaces all with diamonds crammed on the surface of the accessories.
"You've met her girlfriend before. She helped me pick out Brittany's ring," Santana mentioned.
"Ah yes, miss Fabray," the older gentleman nodded in remembrance. "If I recall correctly, she had classic tastes," he steered them towards another section of the store that held rings with smaller jewels mounted against the simple bands. "She didn't strike me as the type as to want a diamond that can knock a man's eye out."
"She's too pretty to wear flashy jewelry," Rachel said. "I don't want anything to distract from her face."
"Agreed," Carter said.
It took Rachel a few minutes to choose a ring that she felt Quinn would like. Carter spent some time adjusting the ring size to fit the measurement she had. She emerged out of the store with Santana and together they made their way to the theatre for Rachel's last performance.
"Gotta say, I'm impressed with how quickly you chose the ring. And you have decent taste," Santana said.
"You and Carter narrowed it down pretty well for me so it was only a matter of being decisive. And the ring is just the thing – it can always be replaced or changed," Rachel gave the velvet box in her pocket a squeeze. "As always, asking the question is always the hard part."
Santana laughed and shook her head. "Knowing Quinn, she'd say yes before you even finish asking."
Rachel bit back an anxious laugh and smiled instead. "I sure hope so."
The party after the final performance of Ohio! left the cast and staff heavily drunk and partying hard all through the night. Rachel had a few drinks with her castmates but every instance that her eyes caught sight of the most beautiful girl in the room, she gained the fortitude to reject another offer of tequila shots. It was around three in the morning before she and Quinn had the opportunity to be alone together.
They stood outside of the bar that was rented out specifically for their use. The cool night air licked the sweat from their skin, and even though they reeked of cigarette smoke, spilled beer, and the salt of perspiration, they cuddled together to fend off the night's chill.
"That was your best performance yet, baby," Quinn murmured against Rachel's temple.
"Thank you. I gave it my all," Rachel tightened her arm around Quinn's and smiled. "I know I was being dramatic this morning – "
"You? Dramatic? Perish the thought."
"Har har," Rachel scowled even as Quinn threw her head back and laughed her full-bodied throaty laugh. And suddenly it was not so strange to have the ring in its velvet box, burning the walls of her pocket. Rachel wanted this – Quinn, laughing at her, or with her it does not matter, as long as Quinn was with her.
"Sorry," Quinn grinned and bent down to kiss Rachel's knuckles. "As you were saying?"
"I know I was being dramatic this morning, but now I'm just looking forward to not working for a couple of weeks," Rachel said. "It should be downtime for the theatre too, right?"
"Mmmm, for a while, yes. I still have to finalize the playbill layout for next season among other things but I can take a vacation with you, if that's what you're thinking of."
"Good. That is precisely what I want," Rachel beamed and wrapped her arms around Quinn's waist.
They stayed for half an hour more until they decided to return home. They bade farewell to the remaining people in the bar and returned to their apartment. Quinn showered first while Rachel paced around their living room, the velvet box never once having left her person since she purchased it – save for when she was performing, of course.
Her heart was in her throat. She had never felt this nervous before, and that was saying something. It was easier to brush off the nervousness of performance because it was for strangers, dozens of faces she would never see again. This was for Quinn and Quinn's eyes and ears only. What Santana told her was reassuring, but anxiety and doubt lingered in the back of her head.
What if it was not true? What if Quinn said no?
Rachel sighed – an exhalation of the anxious energy that built up inside her.
"Shower's free," Quinn appeared in the dark hallway, dressed in shorts and a heather grey shirt. "Rach? Why are you pacing in the dark?"
"No reason! Just trying to memorize lines for the next play I have lined up!"
"Where's your script? I thought you're taking a break?"
"Trying to be off-book and ready always, you know me!" Rachel giggled but even in her own ears she sounded shrill and manic. "I-I'm going to go shower."
She brushed past Quinn and locked herself in the bathroom. She sighed and placed the velvet box on the sink as she struggled to relax under the stream of the water. Once finished, she dried herself and dressed in sleep clothes. She made sure her shorts had pockets, just in case.
From the hallway Rachel could see Quinn. Her back against the headboard, the lamp lit on her side of the bedroom. She was reading a novel, as was her habit, before bed. Her glasses on her nose, Rachel noted how Quinn looked so beautiful haloed by the pale light from the lamp.
"Rachel? What are you doing just standing by the doorway?" Quinn looked up at her and placed her book on the nightstand. She removed her glasses. "You're acting a little weird."
"How long do you think a divorced woman should wait before getting married again?" Rachel blurted. Mentally she smacked herself. Way to throw that curveball, Berry.
Still, Quinn seemed unphased. "It depends. Recovery and growth can't be mapped in such clear-cut terms. Does this divorced woman still think about her ex?"
"Not until she's asked."
Quinn chuckled and tugged the blankets off Rachel's side of the bed. She patted the surface and like a begrudging child, she crawled into bed beside Quinn. Nuzzled against her size, her head against her chest as Quinn rested her cheek against the top of her head. "Are we talking about you, baby?"
"Maybe," Rachel grumbled.
Again, Quinn chuckled and rubbed the length of Rachel's arms. "I can't answer that for you. If you feel you're ready to get married again, then that's great."
Rachel shuffled so she faced Quinn. It would not do to be sleepy, drawn by the soporific effects Quinn's hands on her would bring. "But I'm asking you. Do you think it's smart for me to get married again?"
Quinn raised a stern brow. "It depends. Who are you getting married to?"
"You! Quinn, who else!" Rachel shrieked, her voice rising to a fever pitch.
"Well, you didn't ask me yet," Quinn teased. She reached for Rachel's hand and kissed each knuckle, one by one. "I think if you wanted us to get married, I'd be excited. I have never held it against you that you and Finn broke up, and I don't think that just because you've been divorced once doesn't mean that you'll get divorced again."
Rachel sniffed. "You really think so?"
Quinn nodded. "Of course."
"Okay – then…" Rachel reached into her pocket and unfolded the box. "Quinn Fabray, will you – "
"Yes."
" – be my wife – wow," Rachel giggled and looked at Quinn in disbelief. "Santana was right."
"You're really proposing to me and bringing up Santana in the same sentence?" Quinn asked with a look of incredulity in her face.
"Well, she just said that if I ask you to marry me, you'd say yes before I even finish asking," Rachel grinned as she plucked the ring from the box. She took Quinn's hand and slipped it into her finger, relieved when it glided with such ease to the base of her digit. "Do you like the ring?"
"I do," Quinn said though she did not spare the ring a glance. She tugged Rachel close to her and kissed her. Rachel softened into her arms and returned the fervour of her kiss, arms wrapped around her waist. "For the record, I was thinking of asking you."
Rachel smiled and together they sank into bed, their heads resting on the same pillow as they looked into each other's eyes. "I'm happy I was the one who asked," Rachel said, her fingers laced with Quinn's. She admired the ring that glimmered on her finger as she kissed Quinn's wrists, her palms. "I love you, Quinn." She said as tears sprang fully-formed in her eyes.
With a soft sound in her throat, Quinn held Rachel close. "And I love you, Rachel." She murmured against her hair. In Quinn's arms, Rachel swore that the forever she had always longed for had finally been found.
The premise of this story was for me to test my morals. I remember someone asked me on tumblr ( ficklefic) what are things I won't write and I mentioned cheating of any kind, amongst other things. True enough, writing this took a lot of internal monologue. I sometimes feel that the infidelity aspect of this story was understated, mostly because I'm a coward. It was difficult, especially with how I characterized Finn. And I wanted it to be difficult. Had he been a dick, it would have been too easy.
This story feels rushed because, well. I rushed it. And drama and angst is not how I roll, as you all probably know by now. It might sound like I'm making excuses, but that's because I am.
I only wrote this because I wanted to try something and that was enough for me.
Anyway, that's it! See you in my next fic, whenever that is!