IV

Over the weekend, Rachel and Quinn visit three potential hospital sites and two potential apartments. In the city, the most they can do is find an existing building and renovate it, or be forced to move further out of New York.

"It's something to consider," Rachel tells her as they're leaving their second site. It could work, but neither of them was really feeling it. The location is a positive, but the amount of work to get it ready is overwhelming. They'd take years to open. "Moving out of the city."

Quinn glances at her, blindly reaching for her hand. "Is that what you'd want?" she asks. "To live out of the city? Or to commute?"

Frankly, she'd want neither, but they're also still looking for a new place to live together, and it'd be the smart thing to make sure it's near enough to their work site.

"Just something to think about," Rachel tells her, and then they move onto their third site.

She is both relieved and deeply surprised when they both walk into what was once a nursing college and just know they've found the place. It's six stories of unused space in the city, a little rundown from how long it's been vacant. There's already infrastructure they would need in a hospital, and a lot of freedom to adjust what they don't.

The realtor mentions the place has been empty for three years, after the college moved to New Jersey. She also mentions the price has been reduced three times already, and there's space for negotiating. She also reluctantly reveals the building may or may not be haunted, which is why it hasn't been snatched up. It truly could be prime real estate.

Quinn looks at Rachel with a certain gleam in her eye, and Rachel just knows this is going to be the home of their lifelong project.


They find their new home four days later, and Quinn sets everything into motion rather quickly. She seems excited; energised in a way Rachel has rarely seen. She has this idea she's managing to put together, building a business plan and putting together a presentation for potential investors.

Rachel chips in whenever she can, mainly on design and functionality, but they both know this is really Quinn's brainchild, and Rachel is her forever support.

She'll really be anything Quinn needs at this point, and that is a lovely, terrifying thing.


When Quinn's contract runs out, she's required to serve out notice of one month or pay back her salary. She could and she would, but she'd rather spend another month transitioning her prized Trauma Centre to Blaine's capable hands.

That's what she tells Blaine, at least, but Rachel knows she really just wants more time to be able to defile this hospital by having sex with Rachel in every place imaginable.

Quinn even has a written list on a note on her phone, and Rachel threw an actual shoe at her when Quinn showed it to her. Still, Rachel embarks on Quinn's silly little mission, saying a constant mental fuck you to her father whenever Quinn's body is pressed against her, hands and tongue on and inside her. All over his prized hospital.

They almost get caught three times, and it's really a miracle they don't end up permanently scarring some unsuspecting orderly with their antics.

All Rachel knows is that she's going to miss this woman when she leaves, and her lunch hours are going to get significantly more boring.

Well.

Until then, she has Quinn with her in every way and she has zero plans ever to take that for granted.


They move into their new place the first weekend after the purchase goes through.

Rachel insists they can do it themselves, with some help from their friends, but Quinn disagrees. She claims it's too much work, and she won't do that to Beth, Marcella and Jesse.

Rachel is aware enough to know Quinn and Santana still aren't necessarily on speaking terms. Quinn's also mentioned that Sam isn't too happy with her, either, but they're at least working through everything.

In the end, hiring a company to facilitate moving two separate homes into a single one is a brilliant idea on Quinn's part, because they both get called into the hospital for a massive trauma, and they're on their feet for reasons other than unpacking for more than ten hours.

In the end, it is both overwhelming and a relief to be able to go home together, to their shared home. Together. Rachel is beyond exhausted, almost dead on her feet, leaning on Quinn as they head home. She can't wait to crawl into bed and sleep for a hundred hours.

She almost forgets they're going some place new. She almost forgets they're going to a home they've never slept in before, surrounded by walls and decor that'll be new to them.

She almost forgets until they get to their new front door and Quinn unlocks it with her brand new key, before she does the thing and scoops Rachel up into a bridal carry.

Rachel shrieks, arms wrapping around Quinn's neck. "Quinn!"

Quinn laughs this glorious, wonderful sound. "I would regret it if I didn't," she says.

"Some warning would have been nice," Rachel mutters, but she's still smiling.

Quinn rolls her eyes as she pushes open the door with her foot. "Welcome home, my love," she whispers, and then they walk into their home.

Rachel's suddenly giddy at the thought, and her heart stutters a little in her chest. This is forever, isn't it? All these steps they're taking; it's leading them in only one direction.

"Straight to the bedroom," Rachel tells her, kissing Quinn's neck.

"For sleep?" Quinn asks, and there's a hint of hope in her voice.

Well.

Rachel definitely isn't that exhausted anymore.

As if they would spend the first night in their new home just sleeping. How silly.


Quinn's departure from her job at the hospital coincides with the first anniversary of Finn's death, and Rachel is not okay. She doesn't go into the hospital at all, choosing to remain wrapped up in their bed and in Quinn's arms.

Quinn knows - she definitely knows - and she spends the day catering to Rachel and everything Rachel doesn't even know she needs. She constantly wears this hesitant look on her face, though, and Rachel realises when they're in the middle of making a late lunch that Quinn is almost expecting Rachel to push her away rather than pull her closer. The same way she did the year before.

Instead, Rachel holds on that bit tighter, hands always reaching out to touch her. Because Quinn is real and she's still here, and Rachel knows they've been through heaven and hell in the last year. She just - she's not letting go.

Not this time.

Never again.

It's what Rachel tells her, and Quinn watches her in silence as she basically stumbles through her disjointed declaration. Most of the time, it's been Quinn assuring Rachel she's in it for the long haul, given her previous thoughts on relationships, but this is one of the first times Rachel has reciprocated this way.

One of the first times she's looked Quinn in the eye and voiced her desires and intentions beyond what Quinn has asked of her.

In the end, it all boils down to three words: yes to everything.

"Everything?"

Rachel takes a breath, hands reaching out to hold onto Quinn's as they sit across each other at their kitchen table. "Do you think it'll be easier to do this hospital thing if we were married?" she asks, and Quinn visibly drains of colour.

It makes Rachel smile. She knows Quinn wants marriage, but she's not willing to push it. Rachel is the one who's been divorced, and, truthfully, she wasn't sure she'd be willing to go through it all again.

"Yes," Quinn eventually says. "Investors find more security in partnerships that are perceived to be permanent."

"Beyond you, I'm definitely not planning on doing it again."

Quinn shifts, crease in her brow. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"I don't know if it's romantic to put it this way, but I may have already filed for a marriage license and made an appointment for us."

Quinn blinks. "Baby, that is so not romantic at all," she comments. And then laughs. She laughs almost uncontrollably, before she stops abruptly, says, "Holy shit, we're getting married," and then launches herself across the table.

Later, breathless and sated, Quinn bends over the edge of their bed and digs around under its base. Rachel just watches her in amusement, also out of breath. Honestly, she thought she was a relatively fit person before Quinn, but the woman has been a serious and near-constant test of her stamina.

Quinn eventually emerges with a triumphant shout. She's as naked as the day she was born, the sheet barely covering her legs, and Rachel could stare at her for the rest of her life.

Right now, though, she's staring at the little box in Quinn's hands, mouth hanging open. "Is that - "

Quinn's cheeks are beet red when she says, "I've had it for a while." She holds out the box. "I bought it the morning we - I bought it exactly a year ago."

When Rachel had gone to the hospital and Quinn had stayed in bed. When Rachel had continued to ignore Finn's attempts to contact her and Quinn had apparently gone out to buy an engagement ring.

Quinn opens the box, revealing a princess cut ring. It's definitely not modest, and actually draws a small gasp from Rachel. "Baby," Quinn says with a slight smirk. "I'm a millionaire."

It's really the first time Quinn has confirmed her financial status, but Rachel barely pays attention as Quinn removes the ring from the little blue box.

"I'm not actually going to ask the question," Quinn says, reaching for her hand; "just in case you change your mind."

"I won't."

Quinn slides the ring onto her fourth finger, and then kisses her knuckle. "This feels crazy, but it also feels right. I - God, I can't wait to be married to you. I'd do it today if I could."

Rachel leans in close to her, fingers in her hair. "Maybe not today," she says. "I really don't feel like getting out of bed and actually putting on clothes." She kisses the corner of Quinn's mouth. "I also think you'd want your family to be there, wouldn't you?"

Quinn is too distracted to answer, but Rachel already knows what her response would be. Beth would kill them if they were to do something that monumental without her present. Rachel already worries enough about her perceived role of taking Quinn away from her, so she's definitely not going to perpetuate that thought by actually contributing.

And, really, not even the promise of marriage could get her out of this bed right now.


They get married at the end of the week, with only Marcella and Beth in attendance.

Rachel comes out of a surgery late Friday afternoon, meets Jesse in the Attending Lounge and gives him an unexpected hug. He hugs her back, voicing his surprise, but she doesn't have an explanation for him. She's grateful for him in many ways, and she'll tell him all about it some day.

On her way out, she encounters Santana, who still hasn't quite warmed up since Quinn's departure. Rachel receives a glare for her troubles, which makes her feel inexplicably sad. She's about to marry the woman's best friend, and she doesn't even know.

Pride can be a terrible thing.

Rachel can't stop herself from saying, "You should call her," before Santana can walk away. The woman pauses. "Tonight," Rachel adds. "You should definitely call her tonight." With that said, she turns and heads right out of the front doors, her destination in mind.

She's a little nervous, but excited at the same time. Her dress is already waiting with Quinn at the court, and the mere idea of getting to experience this - albeit for the second time - with Quinn has her heart racing. She glances down at her left hand where her ring would be sitting if she hadn't just left the hospital. It's now in her bag, and she's still getting used to the idea of wearing it permanently after today.

She didn't even wear Jesse's ring all that much.

As expected, Quinn is already waiting with Marcella and Beth, but Beth doesn't give them any time to greet each other before she's bustling Rachel into a bathroom and practically shoving her in a stall to change.

Rachel does it quickly, her nerves kicking up a gear. Her dress is simple, just white chiffon hanging on her body. Quinn's in a tailored white suit in contrast, and Rachel can't wait to get back to her.

When she's finally dressed, Beth touches up her makeup and says, "Thank you for making her happy."

Rachel already knows she's going to be overly emotional all afternoon, but she didn't expect it to start so soon. "Oh, Beth."

"And, thank you for keeping her here," she adds a beat later. "I - sometimes, it felt like she was just waiting to leave, go somewhere else. But something changed when she met you. Like, she was finally ready to settle." Her own smile is a little shaky. "So, thank you."

Rachel tugs her into a hug, and the two of them have to spend a few extra minutes fixing up their makeup.

They just about make their appointment, Quinn reaching for her hand and not letting go through all the proceedings.

It's quick, painless and wonderfully easy. Quinn says, "I do," and Rachel says the words right back. They skip saying their own vows, saving those for a private moment, and then they're pronounced wife and wife - partner and partner - and it is everything.

They get dinner after, Quinn's hand still warm in hers. It still feels a little surreal by the time Quinn is indulging in lobster and listening to Beth tell a story about her lab partner. It feels good, though, and she keeps glancing at Quinn's face, having to remind herself this woman is now her wife.

It's during dessert that the call arrives, and Quinn looks surprised and pleased to see Santana's name show up on her phone's screen. Quinn looks at her, asking a silent question, and Rachel just gestures to the phone.

Quinn answers a moment later and then excuses herself, returning a full eight minutes later. She's wearing an easy smile that hasn't managed to fade all day, and Rachel loves her. Loves her so, so much.

She startles when a flash goes off to her left, and she turns to see Beth bringing down her phone. "It's written all over your face," Beth says as if it's explanation enough. She takes another when Quinn is back in her seat, and Rachel is secretly glad for all the snapshots of this day.

Quinn kisses her a moment later, another flash, and Rachel suddenly knows that she could make every wrong decision in her future, but choosing this woman will always be the most important right one.


Later, when they should be sleeping but definitely aren't, Rachel says, "I sent my father an email."

Quinn rolls onto her back, stretching her limbs. "Which one?"

"Uh, both," she says, frowning. "Separate ones."

"Telling them what?"

"That I got married."

Quinn sits up quite suddenly, her eyes wide and panicked. "You told them in an email?"

"Yes?"

"Rachel," she squeaks, but more likely shrieks. "You told your parents - the men who raised you - that you got married, to me, in an email?"

"Honey, I know you just left work and all, but I didn't expect your very sexy mind to atrophy this quickly."

Quinn stares at her for a moment, and then laughs. "Shut up," she says. "But, like, seriously, is that really the best way you want to be starting our marriage in regards to your parents?"

"Do you really care what LeRoy thinks?"

"Fuck no."

Rachel leans forward. "But you don't want to look bad in Hiram's eyes?"

"Baby, I just managed to win him over," she says with a whine, her lips in a pout. "Now, I'm going to have to do it all over again." She lies back again, huffing. "It's exhausting."

"You've met him once," Rachel points out.

"And I wasn't even your girlfriend then," Quinn reminds her, eyes seeking hers. "Now, I'm your wife."

Rachel grins at her, shifting closer until she's practically lying on top of her. "You're my wife," she says, pressing kisses onto her cheek and trailing her lips along her jaw and neck. "My wife."

Quinn tilts her head back, sighing happily. "You do realise Beth is already planning an official reception for us, right?"

Rachel just giggles against her skin. "I don't mind," she says. "Something our friends and family can attend." She nibbles at the skin over Quinn's collarbone. "And we can have cake."

Quinn places a hand on her shoulder and pushes her back just far enough to be able to look into her eyes. "Well," she murmurs, glancing down their bodies as they're pressed together. "I can have my cake right now."

It's lewd and totally uncalled for, but Rachel laughs, because this woman is insatiable. "Yeah," she says. "Okay." Then she rolls onto her back and allows Quinn to indulge to her heart's desire.


Monday morning, walking into New Budapest Hospital as a newly-married woman, Rachel feels strangely untouchable. On top of the world, almost. This morning, she left Quinn asleep in their marital bed, and she'll get to return home to her once her day is over.

She's literally living the dream.

Then she meets her father, who is very obviously waiting for her, and her pleasant life-dream dulls a little. She internally sighs, shifting the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder. "Morning, Dr Berry," she says, feeling a little petulant. Her initial rage has mellowed into something indifferent. As far as she knows, this man is just her boss and nothing more.

"Dr Berry," he returns, and then visibly pauses. "Is it still Dr Berry, I mean?"

She resists the urge to roll her eyes. And she thought she was being petulant. "It is still Dr Berry," she says. "Which it shall remain, as it did with Jesse."

"So, it is true?"

"I wouldn't send that email as a joke, Daddy," she says, shaking her head.

"After," he says from behind a clenched jaw. "After you were already married."

She smiles at the memories of spending her entire weekend wrapped up in Quinn Fabray. "It's not as if I needed your permission," she informs him. She raises her eyebrows. "Did you expect us to ask for your blessing?" She steps forward. "Would you have even given it?"

He opens his mouth to respond, but Rachel holds up a hand to stop him, because she really doesn't want to hear what he has to say.

"I don't actually care," she says. "I told you, out of a courtesy. Things are different now."

"Obviously," he says. "We never used to be like this. Before her."

Rachel meets his gaze. "You're right," she says, because he is.

Before Quinn, things were different between her and her father. Professionally and personally. There's no getting away from that.

"And, frankly," she adds; "I prefer it this way."


She wouldn't say her day gets worse from there, but it doesn't get any better.

Work is work, which it's always been. Jesse has a Sam crisis, and Rachel almost loses her patience with Marley when the young doctor almost makes a life-threatening mistake.

Santana still gives her the stink-eye and her one scheduled surgery for the day gets bumped off the list when a 'priority' patient is admitted.

It's just a day.

And then it turns into even more of a day when she finds herself sneaking a nap in one of the on-call rooms. She's on the top bunk behind the door, which is why they don't immediately notice her when they enter the room.

All Rachel hears is Dr Robyn Hendricks say, "I just don't get what Quinn sees in her," and she knows she won't be able to sit through whatever this is about to be. They close the door and sit, and Rachel contemplates her best move at this point. She can just pretend to be sleeping, or she can -

Another voice she doesn't recognise says, "Don't worry too much about it. You know Quinn. She'll get tired of her in no time."

"And then what?" Robyn asks. "The woman isn't even working here anymore."

"Now you're just making excuses," the other woman says. "I told you that you should have gone harder at her while she was still here." She laughs, high-pitched. "Maybe then she would have stayed."

Robyn snorts. "You reckon my vagina's that powerful, huh?"

"Gotta be more than Rachel's," the woman comments. "Quinn didn't stay for her. You think she doesn't put out enough?"

"From what I've heard, Quinn is as insatiable as they come, so I don't see how the emotional wreck could possibly keep up."

Well.

Robyn isn't completely wrong about that, in some regard, but Rachel still feels affronted. She keeps up just fine, thank you very much, and she's in therapy, excuse you.

It's when Robyn says, "God, I wish I'd had her just once," rather dramatically that Rachel prickles with an anger she wishes she wasn't feeling. "Everyone else has. Why does Rachel Berry get to be the one who actually gets to keep her?"

Rachel sits up quite suddenly, startling both women enough that they actually gasp, hands flying to their chests. "It's because I want more than just sex from her," Rachel says, voice layered with intense loathing. She's graceful as she drops from the top bunk and glares them down. "It's because I love her, and she loves me, so I would really get it into your little skulls right now that Quinn does not, has never, and will never want you. Got it? Good."

Rachel straightens her spine, gathering her few belongings. "Now, I'd appreciate it if you'd get both our names out of your mouth before we have a serious fucking problem. Are we clear?"

Both women just stare up at her, and Rachel feels wired and testy. It's not okay, but she doesn't bother waiting for a response as she storms out of the on-call room. She reaches for her phone without thought and dials Quinn's number, smiling in relief when Quinn answers with a mumbled, "Baby, I'm napping."

"I just wanted to tell you that I love you," she says into the phone.

"Okay."

Rachel chuckles, already feeling better. "That's all, go back to sleep, I'll see you tonight."

Quinn mumbles something unintelligible, and then hangs up. Rachel stares at her phone's screen for a moment, her Home Screen a picture of herself and Quinn from their wedding day that Beth ended up snapping.

Because they're now married. Quinn loves her. Quinn said I do to her. They're planning for forever. Nothing else matters.

She tells herself those few things enough times to get through the rest of the day relatively unscathed, still caught between revealing the extent of their changed relationship status by openly wearing her wedding rings and just not.

She wants to, of course, but she doesn't want further scrutiny. She won't stand even more people like Robyn Hendricks and whoever that other woman was having fodder to talk about when it comes to them.

Well.

It can be a tomorrow problem.

Right now, she has a home to return to, where she finds Quinn sitting at the kitchen table with her laptop open in front of her. The air smells wonderfully of their dinner, and she feels tears fill her eyes at being able to come home to a home-cooked meal from her wife, a kiss from her and that brilliant smile.

Quinn takes one look at her, and then tugs her into her lap, wrapping arms around her waist. She nuzzles Rachel's cheek, gently kissing the skin. "You smell like disinfectant."

Rachel chuckles lightly. "You used to smell the same way, you know?"

"I never noticed before," she muses, hold tightening around her.

"My stay-at-home wife," Rachel whispers, turning her head and kissing Quinn's lips. "I'm all for the independent career-driven working woman, but I am so turned on by you in sweats and an apron right now."

"Get you a woman who can do both," Quinn jokes, kissing her again. Her hands sneak under Rachel's shirt, fingers warm against her skin. "I made cottage pie, by the way."

"Mmm."

"And I scheduled three meetings next week," she says. "My love, are you ready for our debut as a force de médecin?"

Rachel creases her brow. "I don't think that translation makes sense," she says. "But, yeah, I'm ready." She rests her forehead against Quinn's. "I want out, as well."

Quinn stiffens, concern all over her face. "Did something happen?"

Rachel just shakes her head, not willing to get into it. "Just know that I love you," she says. "I'm also hungry and horny, and not necessarily in that order."

Quinn laughs, her joy so clear in her eyes. "Well," she says; "good thing I can help with both those things."

And so she does.


Hiram, at least, takes the news batter than Rachel initially thought he would. Only because it's her second marriage, he tells her. If there hadn't already been a big wedding the first time, it would be a different story.

Quinn is the most relieved to hear her other father-in-law doesn't also hate her. In another life, Rachel would argue that LeRoy doesn't actually hate Quinn, but even she wouldn't believe it. He might appreciate the doctor she is but, personably, they just don't get along.

It's fine.

For now.

Rachel knows they'll have to sit together and work it all out at some point - she can't stand the thought of her future children not knowing her grandparents - but that's another tomorrow problem.

They have plenty enough to deal with today.


The three meetings go well, though Quinn grumbles about one of the men in meeting number two looking at Rachel a little too long to be strictly appropriate.

Rachel just laughs and kisses her cheek. "If I have to show a little cleavage to get us more money, I'll happily do it," she tells her, which gets a growl from deep in Quinn's throat. "It went well, though."

"They're definitely interested," Quinn agrees, leading them to the subway. They have an unscheduled lunch meeting with Anne Spencer that they both know they can't avoid and wouldn't even want to. "We just need... one."

"One?"

"We get one big player on board, and they'll all fall in line."

"Is that why we're meeting Anne?"

Quinn reaches for her hand, squeezing gently. "Partly," she says. "But I mainly just want to tell her I'm so fucking happy." She glances at her. "I have to tell her we're married, that I quit my job, and that I'm ready to take up my position in the Foundation in order to open an actual hospital in the city."

Rachel doesn't even understand why she's suddenly anxious. "That's... a lot."

Quinn must sense her apprehension because she stops walking immediately and pulls her aside. She ducks her head a little to look into Rachel's eyes. "It's going to be okay, you know," she says. "She's going to be happy for us."

"The marriage, or the fact you basically quit your job to pursue something that could take years to reach fruition?"

"Both."

Rachel doesn't necessarily believe her, but at least Anne is happy to see them when they arrive at the restaurant fifteen minutes later. They get hugs and kisses and a round of drinks, and Rachel relaxes just slightly as they get settled.

Quinn, thankfully, doesn't waste any time, and when she reveals that she and Rachel are actually now married, the first thing Anne asks is if there was a prenup. Rachel tries not to feel affronted, and Quinn glances at her before she tells her grandmother there was no need for such a thing.

"Good," Anne says, waving a hand. "It's a nasty thing, anyway." She sips her martini. "I had one with Paul, and he stayed far too long leaching my money instead of just getting it over with and murdering me."

Rachel's eyes widen, and Quinn chokes on her own iced tea.

"Of course, then, the poor sod went and had a heart attack," Anne continues as if she hasn't said anything alarming. "He never did learn how to take care of himself, you know?" She looks between them. "You two have definitely got it figured out: who needs men, anyway?"

Rachel exchanges a look with Quinn, who just shrugs.

Well.

It's going better than they thought it would.

Quinn goes on to explain their project, Anne shifting from lazy-afternoon to work-meeting mode in the blink of an eye. It is something rather fascinating watching her and Quinn talk, exchanging questions and answers about money, investors, plans and all those things Rachel knows she should be paying more attention to.

But these women seem to have their own language, even going so far as to finish each other's sentences. Quinn absently makes notes in a little Moleskin notebook as they speak, Anne passing on advice and mentioning which people Quinn should really target if she wants proper, good, no-strings-attached funding.

Anne says, "Come by the office on Monday morning, and we'll get everything set up," to Quinn, looking slightly emotional. And proud. The pride is unmistakable, and Rachel feels it too.

When the business part is over, Quinn excuses herself to the bathroom and Anne wastes little time sliding into Quinn's vacant seat. She reaches for Rachel's hands and says, "Thank you, dear," as if Rachel has done something monumental.

Rachel starts to deflect the gratitude, not even sure what it's for, but Anne just keeps speaking.

"She's honestly the happiest I've ever seen," she says, eyes a little wide in wonder. "I didn't think there would be a day, you know? Her family really did a number on her, and I've worried I wouldn't prove enough. That Beth and Marcella wouldn't prove enough. But now there's you, and it's as if you've unlocked this Lucy she's always wanted to be." She smiles. "This Quinn, I mean."

It's overwhelming, hearing these words, but even she knows they have to be true. Enough people have expressed the same sentiment to her.

Anne says, "You've given her a home," and Rachel feels the words right to the tips of her toes.

Oh.

Yes, that's what she's given Quinn.

"I don't know what's going to happen with this project of yours, but I intend to do everything in my power to help make it real," Anne says. "I will not be another person who fails her."

Those words are heavier than anything, and Rachel nods solemnly. "I won't, either," she vows, because she's already been in the past, and she's not ever going to make the same mistakes.

They're still sitting like that when Quinn gets back and she gives them both a curious look. "What's going on here?" she asks, a mix between bemusement and concern.

"Just checking with dear Rachel here that you're treating her right," Anne answers breezily, returning to her own seat. "I hear there was no honeymoon."

Quinn glances at Rachel as she retakes her own seat. "We haven't had the time."

"Take a weekend to the Hampton house," Anne tells them. "Throw a party, if you must. Be young. Live life. Make the memories. Debauchery is best accomplished with an ocean view."

Rachel's mouth drops open, and Anne laughs when Quinn squeaks out an indignant, "Gran!"

Anne winks at Rachel. "She acts like a prude, but she's wild, isn't she?"

"Oh, my God," Quinn groans, turning beet red. She's actually giving off heat. "Please stop."

Anne relents with a smile, which is really the moment Rachel chooses to say, "The wildest," and she knows she's passed all the tests Anne could ever give.


It is wild when they get home.

The way Quinn kisses her. The way she touches her. The way she practically worships her.

Quinn has been like this only once before. Christmas night, when she revealed her desire to live together. There had been something purposeful in the way Quinn touched her that night that's similar to the way she feels in this moment.

They've had the explosive, possessive sex plenty of times, but this feels different. It isn't possession Quinn is demanding of her. Quinn isn't saying you're mine, but rather I'm yours, and Rachel gasps when she figures out the difference.

Well, she gasps for a number of reasons, but it definitely isn't the first time Quinn has stolen her breath. It also won't be the last.

Quinn tells her she loves her with every part of her body, and she holds her close after they've exhausted themselves. After the night has gone quiet and their sweat has dried and their breathing has settled. After.

Quinn says, "Is that something you would want?"

Rachel's eyes are already closed, her forearm pressed over her eyes as she lies on her back and enjoys the pleasant hum in her muscles. "Hmm?"

"To visit the Hampton house?" Quinn says. "To have a wedding reception there?"

Rachel moves her arm and turns her head, her eyes blinking open. "I didn't even know there was a Hampton house," she points out, and Quinn winces. Then, because she's curious, she asks, "Would we have needed a prenup?"

"No."

"We didn't even discuss finances," Rachel points out.

"What's there to discuss?" Quinn asks, visibly squirming. "What's mine is yours, and vice versa, right?"

Rachel rolls onto her side and looks right into Quinn's shifty eyes. "There are things we don't mention to each other, I'm aware," she says; "but I think I'm going to need to know just what I've ended up with when you tell me what's yours is mine, too."

"You definitely should have asked this before you signed that marriage certificate," Quinn points out.

"I don't actually care about any of it," she says, which is true. She has more than enough for the both of them if something catastrophic were to happen. "I would have married you if you were penniless. I just need to know, so I'm not caught off guard the next time we're at a Spencer Fondation fundraiser."

Quinn sighs heavily. "It's nothing monumental," she says. "There's a house in the Hamptons that belongs to my grandmother's family. We have access to it, so we can use it, if we want."

"There are other houses?"

"There are family houses, and then there are Foundation houses," Quinn explains. "The Spencer family is global, and so is the Foundation."

"Global?"

"Paris, Milan, London," Quinn lists. "Singapore, I believe. The Foundation is looking into doing work in South Africa. Cambodia. Sri Lanka. We do a lot of different things."

"And, what's your role going to be?" Rachel asks, and notices the way Quinn stiffens. "Quinn?"

"Besides working on our project?"

"Yes," Rachel says. "Besides that."

"Um."

"Quinn."

She clears her throat. "Well, um, you must know our project wouldn't actually be the first hospital the Foundation has been involved in." She looks away. "There are others. I - well, I helped with some, while I was training."

Rachel suddenly knows where this is going, and, oh, she already hates it.

"I'll be Head of Operations for the Medical Branch of the Foundation," Quinn reveals. "Which means I'll be working directly with the hospitals, clinics and medical centres... around the globe."

Rachel drops onto her back with a soft thump. She closes her eyes, wondering if she has a right to be annoyed. Irritated. Angry. A little heartbroken, maybe.

Quinn lifts herself up. "Baby?"

"You're going away."

Quinn licks her lips. "Just for a little while," she says. "And not immediately. I still have so much work to do, but I'll need to visit all the sites myself and assess what they need, but then I'll be home and stay home and work on the project and make you dinner every night and fuck you until you see stars right after."

Rachel puffs out a breath, trying not to be amused. "I hate you."

Quinn leans in close and whispers, "If we weren't already married, I'd ask you to marry me all over again."

"You didn't," Rachel points out.

"What?"

"You didn't ask me," she reminds her. "You've never actually asked me to marry you; always just alluded to wanting to."

"Oh," Quinn muses. "That feels like a missed opportunity." She nuzzles Rachel's cheek. "Can I ask you right now?"

"I'm going to say no."

"That's what I was always afraid of," Quinn tells her. "That I would ask and you'd say no."

Rachel reaches her hand out to run her fingers through blonde hair. "Ask me," she whispers.

"What?"

"Ask me."

Quinn tilts her head to the side, her smile gentle and soft. "Rachel Berry," she murmurs. "My love. My dear. My lovely, adorable, kind, smart, sexy wife. My baby-saving, gorgeous, sensible - "

Rachel tugs on her hair. "Ask me," she says.

" - impatient," Quinn says, voice a little louder.

"Oh my God, will you just ask me already?"

Quinn kisses her cheek quickly. "Do you know the first thought I had when I met you?"

"You called me incompetent."

"I did not," Quinn laughs. "I definitely didn't use that word."

"You may as well have," she says. "You basically implied it. I had no idea who you were, some hotshot trauma god coming in to shake up everything."

"Little did you know what was going to happen," Quinn says with a grin.

"I knew nothing."

"I've always known everything," Quinn reveals.

"Oh?"

Quinn hums softly. "The day we met; that moment, I just knew I was going to marry you one day."

"Quinn."

"I promise you," Quinn says. "I knew it then, and I've known it every day since. But you wanted nothing to do with me."

Rachel just stares at her, because that can't be right. There's no way that can be true. Quinn was - she had -

Quinn just smiles a little knowingly. "I have loved you from the very beginning, Rachel," she says. "Loved you through everything we've been through, together and apart."

"You told me you don't chase people," Rachel murmurs. "But you chased me." Her heart rate slows in her chest. "I thought - I didn't - "

Quinn kisses the tip of her nose. "Will you marry me?" she asks. "Spend the rest of your life with me? Make me the happiest woman in the world? Will you do me the honour of agreeing to be my wife? Choose to love me for forever? Put up with all my craziness for days on end? Will you? Will you love me in return for the rest of my days?"

Rachel doesn't realise she's crying until Quinn kisses the tears on her cheeks. She wraps her arms around Quinn's shoulders and brings her against her body, holding her so close to her chest that it feels as if she could compress diamonds from the air in their lungs.

"Yes," Rachel whispers. "Yes, Quinn." She closes her eyes, the world slowing all around them. "Yes to everything."


When Rachel starts unapologetically wearing her wedding set on her finger, the first person to notice is sweet little Henry. He's in for a routine scoping procedure, just to make sure everything is still where it's supposed to be, and Rachel won't quite admit how much she's missed seeing him.

Of course, she's glad he's safely at home, healing as best he can, but there's an inevitability to his return based on his condition, and it is a horrible, terrible thing to be ware of. She stops by his bed before she goes to scrub in, and his eyes land on her left hand immediately.

Then he says: "She finally asked you," and Rachel doesn't really need another reminder that Quinn has wanted her and this life with her for so long.

Rachel doesn't mention that Quinn asked her technically only after they were married. She does say, "Yes, she did."

"You said yes," he says, smiling that smile she loves. There still aren't any teeth, which makes it even better. It's not even fair he gets to be this cute. "She was worried you wouldn't."

There it is, again.

She sighs. "Of course I said yes," she says, managing a smile.

He beams at her. "I'm happy," he declares. "Are you happy?"

Now, that is the simplest question to answer. "I am."

For once, she honestly means it.


Marley sees her rings next and squeals loud enough that Rachel's ears ring for a full five minutes afterwards. Jesse sees them when they have lunch together, and they're the talk of the hospital by the time she comes out of her afternoon surgery.

What seems to catch people off guard is the fact she's wearing more than just an engagement ring, and Rachel enjoys their confusion more than she should.

Did they get married? is the question of the day. No, they couldn't have; there would have been a wedding. She enjoys the secret; enjoys leaving them wondering.

What she doesn't enjoy is the constant glances at her hand, at her face, and all the murmuring that follows her as she moves through the corridors. She texts Quinn about it throughout the day, complaining to her wife about her difficult day, and ends up with the surprise of her life when Quinn shows up at the hospital just as her shift is ending with a smile that spells mischief and a glint in her eye that should alarm her.

It just brings her relief.

Quinn hasn't been back since she stopped working here, even though LeRoy assured her she would continue to have surgical privileges - especially if ever they needed an extra set of hands. Tonight, though, it's obvious she's come for one thing and one thing only: to blow the minds of every staff member in this hospital.

She does this in three steps.

First, she stops by the front desk and very purposefully asks Sunny behind the desk where she can find her wife, Dr Rachel Berry. Sunny sputters a little, checks the schedule, and then directs Quinn towards the Attending Lounge, as if Quinn has no idea where it is.

Second, she makes sure to bump into as many Attending doctors as possible and very pointedly says, "I'm seeing you at the next Spencer Foundation fundraiser, right?" and then feigns horror when they inform her they were not actually invited. It's kind of beautiful, really.

And third is when she sees Rachel walking towards the Attending Lounge and calls out to her with an easy, "Baby, there you are."

Rachel turns, visibly surprised to see her. "Quinn?"

"You weren't answering your phone," Quinn says.

Rachel just stares at her, because she's one hundred percent sure Quinn hasn't tried to call her today. Still, she says, "I've been in surgery."

Quinn has eyes solely on her as she approaches, but they're both acutely aware of all the people watching them in this moment. "Our appointment was bumped up," she says, and it takes everything Rachel has not to ask her what appointment?

"Oh."

Quinn looks both irritated and resigned. "Our fitting is now in half an hour," she says, and Rachel can only marvel at how well she's acting her part - whatever it is. "We don't have much time to get to the store." Here, she pauses, making sure people are definitely listening. "You know, Oscar de la Renta waits for nobody."

Even Rachel can't hold back her own reaction, her eyes widening, because - wait a minute. Wait. What?

Quinn grins at her, getting close enough to drop a kiss to her cheek. "Are you ready to go? We can't be late."

Rachel continues to stare dumbly for another few moments, before she nods. "Sure," she says. "Let me just grab my things."

Quinn just nods, letting her go, and Rachel rushes to gather her belongings from her locker. Eyes are on her, but she successfully ignores them in favour of getting her heart to slow its rate and her cheeks to lose their obvious red tint.

When she's ready, she manages to slip out of the Lounge, returning to Quinn and finding her talking to Santana. Rachel isn't sure how much they've talked before now, or even how much Quinn has told her about their lives and what they've been up to.

Santana does say, "So, I see you're flexing," and Quinn smiles beautifully, so it must not be all bad. "Oscar, huh?"

Quinn shrugs. "Only the best for my wife," she says, and she looks so pleased with herself when she says the words. "I want to give her the best wedding reception imaginable."

Well.

If anyone was confused about where they stand; they surely aren't now.

Rachel approaches them slowly, a little wary. Santana knows, and she doesn't look... angry or off-put by the news. Quinn must have had a long talk with her at some point, but - well.

Quinn catches sight of her and smiles even wider - if it were possible. "We really do have to go," she says, and Rachel appreciates how serious she's taking her roleplaying - Rachel should know that already, actually. "Ready?"

Rachel nods, reaching for Quinn's hand when she holds it out. Their fingers link as if they were built for each other, and Santana glances down at them with a quirk of her eyebrow.

"Flexing, I see," she says again.

Quinn glances at Santana and very purposefully says, "I am living my best life, and I think it's time everyone in this godforsaken place knows it." She looks to Rachel, tugging on her hand to draw her closer. "That just happens to be with this woman, and there's really nothing else to it."

Santana waves her hands. "Flex away," she says with a grin, and then looks at Rachel. Her smile softens, understanding settling over her features. Rachel doesn't think they'll ever truly see eye-to-eye about a lot of things - particularly when it comes to Quinn - but they both want Quinn to be happy, and that's the most important thing.

Santana doesn't say the word congratulations, but it's in her eyes. Rachel doesn't say thank you, I promise to love her forever, but Santana must hear it all the same.


Rachel doesn't expect there to be an actual fitting, so it catches her off guard when they leave the hospital and Quinn rushes her as if they actually do have an appointment to meet.

Which they do.

At Oscar de la Renta.

Where they both get measured and fitted for their potential wedding outfits, for the wedding reception Quinn and Beth are planning at the Hampton house.

Really, it is one of the most overwhelming hours of Rachel's young life, and she keeps looking at Quinn in disbelief and wonder, who looks back at her with obvious amusement. She tries not to think about how much money is going into all of this, because Quinn is now flexing, apparently.

There's this casualness to her now that makes her even more wildly attractive. It's literally in the way she carries herself these days, settled in her skin and her life and her projected career and her marriage in a way that looks and feels monumental.

Rachel would get married to her every day of her life if this is the Quinn she gets to experience for the rest of her life. It's no wonder everyone who meets her wants her in some way. Especially now, when she's found this purpose in her life beyond her career and her responsibility to her family.

This is Quinn at her happiest, and Rachel is so glad she gets to be a part of it.


Things at the hospital change for Rachel in a way she didn't expect. It's not necessarily bad, but it's not quite good, either, but she'll take the careful avoidance over the endless scrutiny.

She's now as untouchable as Quinn is, and she chooses to see it as a beautiful, glorious thing. She's allowed to do her work with ease, people falling to silence around her. She's able to get things done without anyone putting up a fuss, and she gets to make changes in her Department that nobody disputes.

There is power in being Quinn's wife that she never had in being LeRoy's daughter.

She even manages to schedule a full Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday off from work, which Quinn uses to her advantage the moment Rachel mentions it.

Quinn hires a car, and they leave for the Hamptons as soon as her shift ends on Wednesday. Rachel is particularly exhausted after spending nearly six hours on her feet with her hands working frantically to save a young girl after a diving accident, and she's so lucky she's married to someone who understands.

Quinn just kisses her cheek, makes sure her seatbelt is properly clipped, puts on some soft music, and then lets her nap for majority of the drive out of the city.

She wakes when the car slows, and her eyes blink open at the sound of crunch beneath the tyres. She's had a small idea of what to expect of a house in the Hamptons, but she should know better by now. Quinn has basically undersold so many aspects of her Spencer life, and this house is no different.

Quinn presses a fob on a foreign set of keys and one of the four garage doors opens for them. There's a passcode to get them into the actual house, and she's pleasantly surprised to find it completely spotless, with the unmistakable smell of food wafting from the massive, open-plan kitchen.

"I called ahead," Quinn says, setting their bags at the bottom of one of the staircases. "We have a staff here."

Rachel has ignored various things rather selectively, and this is one of those things. Instead, she slips her hand into Quinn's and allows the woman to show her around.

It is overwhelming.

The views, mainly. The decor and general... glamour of everything around them. There are three stories, and then a further wine cellar where Quinn picks out a very old, very expensive bottle for them, and then leads her back to the kitchen. Rachel is still in a bit of awe as she watches Quinn retrieve their dinner from the warmers and then chills and decants their wine.

They eat on the back deck, the sound of the water filling their senses, and Rachel thinks, for the first time, that she could live this life.

With Quinn, she could live every kind of life.

Of course, their dinner is fish, and Quinn indulges in her sea bass, claiming she's going to attempt to make something similar when they get back to the city. It is such an odd thing, this dichotomy of this woman who can get everything she could ever want but wanting to do it all for herself.

Sometimes, Rachel barely recognises her.

Then she does the thing and says, "We are having sex in every room of this house," and, yip, there she is.

Rachel doesn't even bother to dispute the statement. She wouldn't even want to at this point. It's just, well, there are a lot of rooms, and they don't have a lot of time. They need to eat, and she's also keen to explore the area.

Quinn grins at her when she mentions those things, and then laughs as if Rachel is so silly, which usually happens the other way around. Then she says, "Oh, my love," in that way that already gets Rachel's body thrumming. "It's cute that you think we're going to get any sleep."

So, yeah, okay, Rachel really should know better.


Rachel wouldn't really say they did a lot of dating before marriage. There weren't a lot of dinners at restaurants or extravagant visits to museums and Broadway shows and all those other lovely, romantic things.

After marriage, though, it's as if Quinn has lost all her restraint when it comes to the extent she's willing to show Rachel just how much she loves and adores her.

The Hamptons allows Quinn to do that. They get dressed up and wine and dine like they've never done before, Quinn treating this little excursion as several things at the same time. First, it's their pre-honeymoon, because Quinn vows to take her somewhere exotic when they have the time. It's also the opportunity for them to meet the locals and put their names out there for when they inevitably take over the world. But, probably most importantly, it is the chance for them to scope out their wedding venue.

Find caterers and florists and all of the things Beth placed on a list for her. For them. Rachel doesn't want anything particularly fancy, and she's relieved Quinn seems to get that. She's already done the big wedding, and this reception is meant to be intimate.

"But we're getting a massive cake, right?" Quinn asks, sounding genuinely worried.

"Of course, Honey," Rachel tells her, because she'd never dream of denying Quinn at least that.

She's never quite been able to deny her cake, if she's being honest, and Quinn laughs uncontrollably for far too long when she says those words out loud, the innuendo rather obvious.

"I love you," Quinn says, and Rachel doesn't want to think of a time when she wasn't aware of just how much.


As predicted, Quinn is successful.

They have sex in every room at least once, twice in others, and too many times to count in the bed they choose for their stay. What Rachel figures from the time she's spent being loved by Quinn is that they probably would have made a baby by now if they were physically able to.

What she also learns is that sex is more of a workout than anything she's ever done. She spends nearly the entire weekend out of breath and in various stages of undress. Quinn mentioned there's a staff, but Rachel doesn't see a single member, their coming in and out when they're out or when Rachel just isn't paying attention.

They spend hours on the beach, dipping in the water. They take walks along piers and indulge in cold, cold ice cream. They eat food off each other at the poolside. They make love on the living room carpet and fuck against the floor-to-ceiling windows. They prepare the guest list and seating plan for their wedding reception while rolling on the grass like the young people they're trying to be.

Rachel isn't sure it's a good idea to get used to this life, but she can feel it happening. At times, she even entertains the idea of not going back.

"We'll come back," Quinn assures her when they're packing up for their departure. "We'll spend longer, and do it all again."

Quinn takes everything she says very seriously, so Rachel definitely believes her.