VI
Rachel thinks she might actually melt into a puddle at the cuteness overload she experiences once she's in the fort. She's on her hands and knees, her heart swelling to quadruple its size at the sight of Lex, Hugo and Max - and Sasha - all spread out on blankets and pillows, all of them looking so peaceful.
She stays a while, just taking it all in. Her own day was eventful, but she suddenly wants to know everything her boys did today. She wants to hear Hugo's excited chatter and Max's nonsensical gurgles. She even wants to hear Lex wax poetic about whatever his little heart desires.
Rachel wants.
She wants Quinn, too.
It's a truth that seems to have solidified itself somewhere between her own useless rambling and her confusing feelings that aren't so confusing anymore. If they were ever. It's what she's spent the day coming to accept, and now here she is.
Rachel finds Quinn in what is her makeshift kitchen, and she stands in the large archway, just watching as Quinn floats around the room, softly humming to herself. She's dressed so casually, barefoot and relaxed, and Rachel thinks she looks stunning.
Rachel has the desire to get closer to her, but she can't say she's ready for that. Accepting and actually acting on what she may or may want are two entirely separate things.
Quinn barely touched her tonight, and she swears she can still feel it in her toes. She's never experienced anything like that, in any capacity, and she's sure it'll take a while for her to recover.
Quinn eventually notices her, turning fully and smiling so gently, that Rachel still thinks she might melt into nothing.
"I don't know if I should be offering you wine," Quinn says, setting a plate on the dining room table and waving her forward.
Rachel shakes her head. "I drank so much champagne today," she admits. "Some water would be perfect, though."
Quinn busies herself with Rachel's glass of water while she takes a seat, humming at the delicious smell reaching her nose.
"You said Hugo cooked this?"
Quinn grins at her. "Every single bit," she says. "Picked the recipe, did all the prep, and then put it all together."
Rachel picks up her fork. "It smells divine," she comments.
"Taste it," Quinn instructs, setting her glass of water on the table. She steps back to switch on the kettle, and searches for a clean cup to make some tea for herself.
Rachel watches the play of muscles in her shoulders for a moment, before she finally takes a bite of food... and proceeds to moan.
Quinn spins around quite suddenly, her eyes a little wide, and Rachel flushes almost immediately.
"It's really, really good," Rachel says, covering her mouth.
Quinn looks wonderfully amused. "I think I figured that out, from the sound you just made."
"Shut up."
Quinn just chuckles as she finds the teabag she wants and pops it into her fresh cup. Rachel watches her movements carefully, just using the opportunity to look at her. She's never really allowed herself to do that before, and it's never been something she's really ever wanted to do. Not with Finn, and not with Brody.
Of course it would be different with Quinn.
She's already halfway through her dinner by the time Quinn actually joins her, gracefully sliding into a chair and curving her fingers around her cup.
"Did Hugo seriously make this?" Rachel asks, sipping at her water.
"He helped," Quinn answers. "Food seemed to interest him, so I got him involved in the preparation."
"I'm not a very good cook," she admits. "My repertoire probably consists of five recipes. Though, my takeout game is stellar. We were really spoiled in New York."
Quinn blinks. "You're from New York?"
Rachel is caught off guard by that, because she just assumed Hugo must have told her. "Huh, I suppose we don't know all that much about each other, do we?"
"No, I don't suppose we do," Quinn agrees. "So, you're from New York?"
Rachel shakes her head. "I don't think a lot of people are actually from New York," she says. "I'm from here, born and raised, but I went to college in New York, and the boys and I moved back last summer." She pauses, and then looks at Quinn's t-shirt. "Are you from New Haven?"
Quinn chuckles. "Touché, I guess," she murmurs. "And, no, I'm actually from Belleville."
"Oh?"
"Went to New Haven for college, and then my boy and I moved here this summer." She smiles a little coyly. "We probably wouldn't have come here at all, but circumstances kind of fell together, and here we are."
Rachel studies her closely, feeling as if she's starting to understand her better. "You were running from something too, weren't you?"
Quinn startles, but just about manages to nod. "Something like that, yeah."
"Someone?" Rachel chances a guess.
Quinn takes a sip of her tea, wincing a little at the temperature. She looks contemplative for a moment, as if she's weighing her options, and then she says, "She broke me."
Rachel realises Quinn says the words for a very specific reason, and the echo of whenever you're ready rings in her mind. "They tend to do that, don't they?"
"Women?"
"People," Rachel clarifies. "Lovers."
Quinn meets her gaze, and Rachel can't bear to look away from the hazel on display. "Lovers implies 'love,'" she says.
"Does it?"
Quinn hums in thought. "I believe she loved me," she says; "so maybe I'm just the only idiot who thinks the implication stands."
This time, when they touch, Rachel is more prepared for it, her fingers tracing over the bones of Quinn's thin wrist. "Maybe you are," she finally says, and Quinn actually laughs.
Rachel looks at Quinn's shirt again, slowly taking her hand back and eating another forkful. "Are you in law enforcement?" she asks.
"Excuse me?"
"Your shirt," Rachel clarifies, and then forces her eyes upwards, because she's just staring at Quinn's chest.
Quinn glances down. "Oh, uh, no," she says, smiling in amusement. "This is my best friend's. The redhead. She's a detective in the department, and I steal her clothes because it annoys her."
"A detective," Rachel echoes, suddenly feeling a lot different about their brief encounter in the bathroom. Well.
"One of the youngest promoted to homicide," Quinn says proudly. "It's dangerous and I hate it half the time, but it's what she was born to do, so I just give her stick about it, because it's basically my job."
"As it should be," Rachel agrees. "So, what do you do?"
"Excuse me?"
"As a job, I guess," she says. "Unless you won the lottery and this is your living the life."
Quinn rolls her eyes. "If I won the lottery, I can assure you this is the last place we'd be," she comments. "And, well, I don't actually have a job, not really."
"Oh?"
Quinn looks thoughtful, before she says, "I'm a writer, actually. I write for a living."
Rachel smiles, a little excited. "I write, too," she says; "though, you probably write actual stories, and I just write music and lyrics."
Quinn looks pleased. "See, we've already got so much in common," she says. "Both have sons, both write for a living, both have a slight obsession with the hardware store, both - "
"Like girls."
Quinn's mouth snaps shut.
Rachel's eyes widen, because she did not just say that.
She didn't.
She did not.
Oh, God.
Did she just say that out loud?
She did.
Oh, fuck, she did.
"Hey," Quinn gently says, her finger tilting Rachel's chin up so she can meet her gaze. "It's okay," she says, her voice so low and understanding that Rachel isn't sure she's real. "I already told you," she murmurs. "Whenever you're ready."
They end up on the back deck, Rachel with a hot chocolate and Quinn with a tumbler of Scotch. They're each occupying an armchair, neither of them opting for the swing, because it's obvious Rachel really isn't ready and Rachel thinks Quinn is giving her space.
"Do you miss New York?" Quinn asks, her eyes on the stars in the distance.
"Yes." There's no hesitation in her answer, but there's more to it. "Moving back wasn't really a choice I couldn't make," she explains quietly, almost embarrassed by her failure. "There was just no way I could make it work. Not with all of my support system here in Lima, a baby on the way, and my - " she stops, sighs and sips her beverage. "He's been breaking me since we met," she confesses, and she can feel Quinn's eyes on her.
Rachel doesn't talk about Brody with anybody; not really. Santana probably hears the most of it, but Santana acts as if their entire relationship meant nothing; as if Brody really just was a sperm donor and there was no love between them.
Which isn't right. It was toxic, sure, and he never treated her the way she deserved, but she wouldn't have stayed with him and had two children with him if there wasn't something more there.
It's gone now, obviously, but that doesn't mean it didn't exist.
When Rachel tells Quinn that, she's not really sure what to expect, so she's a little surprised when Quinn says, "And then it's almost as if you're expected to sweep it all under the rug, just because you got the best things in the world out of it."
Rachel looks at her; studies her and memorises her. "Lex's father?"
Quinn shudders. "It was a disaster waiting to happen," she explains. "He held a position of power, was about a decade older than me and was totally married." She shakes her head, almost in disgust. "I didn't know the last one, but I don't think anyone believes it. There was no love there, so I could bear the ending. I wasn't going to force him to be part of my son's life, because God knows I know what it feels like to be unwanted by your parents."
Rachel has the desire to touch her again, but she's almost too far away. "Does that mean it's just you?"
Quinn puffs out a breath. "Just me," she confirms. "We're the only Fabrays we need, anyway."
Rachel goes still. "Fabray?"
Quinn looks at her, her brow creased. "Um, yes," she says. "Quinn Fabray, hello, nice to meet you."
"Any relation to Annalise Fabray?"
Quinn nods. "My grandmother," she says a little sadly. "This was actually her house. She's the reason we're even in Lima. Did you know her?"
"Not personally," she says; "but my parents did. It's my understanding my Dad grew up with her children."
"So, he must have met my father, then." She drops her gaze. "I suspect he must have been a little shit if the person he became is anything to go on, so I'm sorry for that."
"Bad experience?"
Quinn barks out a short laugh, and then gives Rachel a heart attack when she lifts the side of her t-shirt to show Rachel a short scar that runs along her side. It'd be more horrific if Rachel weren't staring at the woman's impressive abs.
Quinn seems to notice Rachel's distraction and hastily drops her shirt, both of them blushing.
"Bad experience," Quinn quietly confirms.
Rachel sips her hot chocolate, contemplating her next words. "There are no physical marks on Hugo," she says.
Quinn's eyes snaps towards her.
"I checked thoroughly," Rachel says. "None on Max, too. I - I think I would have killed him. I still think I might."
Quinn nods, as if she understands the feeling.
Rachel is a little hesitant when she says, "You didn't tell me. In the beginning, you didn't tell me."
Quinn steadily meets her gaze. "Would you have believed me?"
And, Rachel can't realistically say she would have. "I would have paid more attention," she whispers, and it hurts. "I - I would have seen. I wouldn't have failed my babies."
All of a sudden, Quinn is kneeling in front of her, her fingers gentle on her cheeks as she catches unexpected tears. "You haven't failed them," Quinn says.
"It's my fault he was even in their lives."
"Hey," Quinn murmurs. "Don't do that. Don't."
Rachel breathes in, trying to get a hold of herself. "It's my job to protect them," she says. "It's my job."
Quinn puffs out a breath, dropping her hands. "And not mine."
Rachel wonders how it's possible for her just to know what she's saying without her having to say the words.
Quinn clears her throat. "Then you should probably have a talk with Noah Puckerman."
Rachel gapes at her, because that was the last thing she was expecting to hear today. "Excuse me?"
Quinn gets to her feet and returns to her seat, Rachel suddenly missing her proximity. "We had a few words today," she says. "I wasn't aware he knew Little H, and, uh, he kind of thought I kidnapped your kids again and used what H called his 'bully' voice. He tried to make Herbert go with him and reached out for him, as if to grab, which made Boy Wonder cower, and I - " she stops, blushing.
Rachel wonders, maybe, if this is what it feels like to fall in love.
"Look," Quinn says, suddenly serious. "I get it, okay? Believe me, I get it. You want to be the one to protect your children and you should be, but I'm not going to stop doing the same, okay? It doesn't matter that they're not mine, and I'll do it every day. Without question, and without hesitation."
Yip.
That's some kind of love.
"Where did you come from?" Rachel asks, sounding a little breathless.
Quinn smiles at her. "I already told you."
"New Haven, huh?"
Quinn rolls her eyes, and Rachel gets the impression all the profound talk is over for the evening. Which is a relief, really, because she doesn't want Quinn to think she's always such a mess.
"So," Rachel muses, regaining some semblance of composure; "You admit to kidnapping my children at least one time, huh?"
The laugh she receives in response is definitely worth it.
Rachel thinks she should expect the intervention, but it still catches her off guard when she pulls into the driveway of her own home a half hour later to find Santana, Kurt and Noah sitting on her front steps.
Oh, boy.
At least they don't say anything until Hugo and Max are both safely inside and tucked away in their respective rooms. Rachel almost wants to crawl into bed with Hugo, just to soak up his warmth, but she knows she can't avoid this inevitable.
She knew it the second Quinn mentioned Noah. And, frankly, she doesn't know how to feel about what Quinn told her. About Noah, and about herself.
Still, Rachel lingers in Hugo's room, thinking back on the evening she's just had. She knows she shouldn't be thinking it, but there was an impromptu date feel to their time together. Quinn even touched her cheek - gently, so, so gently - at the end of the night, tucking her hair behind her ear, and Rachel's skin is still tingling from the feel of her fingers.
Eventually, Rachel has to leave her son's room and face just whatever it is her friends have come here to say. She knows she's not looking forward to it, but she'll indulge them, for whatever reason. They're all she has. She needs them.
Kurt, Santana and Noah are in her kitchen, each of them sipping some kind of beverage, and Rachel isn't sure how she feels in this moment. She was giddy, earlier. Leaving Quinn's place with her children in tow, both of them fast asleep, happy and healthy, had felt a little nostalgic, in a very weird way. Quinn had carried Hugo, and she held Max and the diaper bag, making Rachel feel as if it was all something she could want and actually have.
And that's the thing. She does want, and she thinks it's something she could be ready for. Maybe. Soon.
The idea is just wild.
When Rachel said her day was eventful, she meant it. She got a little drunk, sure, but her inebriated brain allowed her to look at things a little more clearly, merely under the haze of free thinking. There was no anxiety or guilt attached to her thoughts, and that made her mind think wholly about what she wants from life. And what she wants happens to be Quinn Fabray.
A woman.
Rachel thinks she might have done her college 'experimenting' the first few years in New York, but she got caught in a tangled web with Brody and there was just no way to get out without leaving. That alone was terrifying, because, even if she never saw herself as a mother so young; she definitely didn't see herself as a single mother, ever.
And yet, here she is.
She knows she wouldn't be able to do any of it without the people sitting in her kitchen right now, which is why she even allows this 'intervention' to happen.
Santana starts, which is unsurprising.
"Why do I have to find out from Puck that you let that bitch watch your children?"
Rachel bristles at the language, because Quinn is lovely. Guarded and mysterious and so damn confusing, but just wonderful. "Santana," she reprimands slowly. "Please don't use that language about her."
"Why the hell not?" Santana presses. "Berry, what the hell is going on? Are there not enough babysitters in the world? The woman took your children, and then you just left them with her. Willingly. Are you insane?"
Rachel lets out a long sigh, moving over to her fridge and ruing her decision to reject Quinn's offer of wine. She's definitely going to need some alcohol to get her through the next chunk of her life.
"Rachel," Kurt says, watching her carefully. "What is going on?"
"Nothing," Rachel says, turning to look at them. "Look, I appreciate your concern and all, but you're really overreacting."
"She held Hugo hostage," Noah says. "I tried to bring him home, you know?"
Rachel glares at him. "Well, yes, Noah, I know exactly what happened today, so I'd be really careful what I say, if I were you."
Noah hesitates, but continues, regardless. "Then you know leaving your children there was a mistake. She's - she's bad news, Rachel. Do you know she's refusing to pay us for the work we did today?"
No, Rachel didn't know that, but there's a part of her that just knows there's more to the story. Quinn doesn't seem like the type of person to skimp out on paying what's owed, and Rachel's finding it difficult to believe anything from Noah right now.
"See," Santana says. "She's just committing felonies left, right and centre."
Rachel rolls her eyes, exasperated. "Come on," she says. "Are you even hearing yourselves? So what if Max and Hugo went over there? They obviously had fun, and they're both still whole and healthy and back home, so I don't see what the big deal is."
"The big deal is you didn't tell us," Santana snaps, and Rachel stares at her, dumbfounded.
"And why should I?" she questions, because she's genuinely curious. Why would she even need to do something like that?
"Because," she says, entirely not helpful at all.
"Because what, Santana?" she demands. "I don't understand what this is all about. Have you ever even spoken to Quinn? Do you know her character? Do you have any idea who she is?" She squares her shoulders. "I know you're just trying to look out for me and the boys, but I trust Quinn and I - "
"Well, look how good it turned out with the last person you trusted," Kurt comments, and Rachel feels sucker-punched.
She knows he's referring Brody, but it's Finn's face that flashes through her mind first and she recoils, stepping back and suddenly feeling dizzy.
The last person she trusted with her children hurt them. Quinn wouldn't. She knows that, but there's a tendril of doubt taking seed, and Kurt can see it on her face, grabbing at it with both hands.
"I'm sorry," he says unapologetically; "but we all know it's true. Honey, your track record has been suspect."
"I mean, you're dating Finnept, again," Santana interjects, and Rachel wonders when her dating life became such a laughing stock to her friends. At least they haven't managed to figure out that she's actually interested in Quinn. And that she and Finn are no longer… anything.
"We're just worried," Kurt says. "She's a stranger."
"And fucking psycho," Noah adds. "She set her beast of a dog on my boys while they were over there."
Rachel resists the urge to smile, because Sasha is actually such a sweet puppy. Whatever Noah's boys did, she's convinced they deserved it, and she really doesn't appreciate the thought of Noah spreading rumours about Quinn.
Rachel straightens her spine. They obviously don't understand, and she isn't willing to have this conversation with people who won't even try. She's pretty exhausted already. Today was supposed to be a calm, relaxing day, and all the good her full-body massage did has been washed away. Even the calm being with Quinn managed to bring her has disappeared.
Now, she's just tense and a little angry and a lot annoyed that her friends think it's okay to show up at her house and question her decisions based on the little information they have.
In the end, she probably doesn't channel her emotions well, given the way they're threatening to overwhelm her. It's just that Kurt and Santana are being nosy and unreasonable, and Noah is just being an ass.
It's just that Santana says, "After everything we've done for you…" when Rachel asks why she should even have to discuss her parenting with them, and Rachel loses it.
She raises a hand to stop her, her eyes hard after her altercation with Finn, her resolve solidified after her interaction with Quinn. "I'm going to stop you right there, Santana," she says; "because I obviously wasn't aware the help I've received included whatever this is. You know I appreciate it all, but they are my kids and I'm the parent here, not you or Kurt or, God forbid, Noah.
"Do you see me getting involved in your children's lives this way? I know the situation was and is different, and yeah, you both have your own wonderful spouses to help when I never did because you're older and I'm the idiot who managed to get knocked up by a douchebag as a teenager, but, dammit, that doesn't give you the right to my children. That's not how this works, so, no, you don't actually get a say right now. I get to decide whom they spend time with, and I choose Quinn."
Wow, okay, that totally escalated quickly, leaving them all particularly stunned. Taken out of context, it reveals far more than Rachel is ready for them to know.
"Well, don't come running to us when she proves us all right," Kurt says snidely, and they're the words that remain ringing in her head long after they're gone and she's crawled into bed.
She's not sure she'll be able to sleep.
She doesn't even know if she wants to.
It's just that she knows they're wrong about Quinn. It's different than with Jesse, Finn and Brody, because, with them, even Rachel knew they would eventually let her down at some point. Quinn is different. Rachel can feel it.
Which is maybe why she reaches for her phone to send an unexpected text, her heart beating a little too fast at merely the sight of Quinn's name.
Hey, are you still awake?
My left eye is halfway open, so I think that counts. What's up?
Rachel hesitates, because she really has no idea what she's doing.
Well.
She could just go with that.
I have no idea what I'm doing.
She waits almost a minute for a reply, and there's a part of her that wonders if Quinn has actually fallen asleep. But, her phone eventually buzzes in her hand, and there's a sudden certainty to whatever she's feeling towards this woman when she reads the words.
I think it would be more of a shock if you actually did, so I don't think it's something you need to be worrying about. If anything, I'd wager nobody else knows what they're doing, either. We just pretend really well. (I know I do.) Also, nobody says you have to have it all figured out, you know? I reckon you're doing pretty well, no matter that you think, and I'll be happy to remind you of that whenever you need to hear it. Capiche?
Rachel's heart pounds, because this is all too much and not nearly enough.
Understood.
Good. Reckon you can get some sleep now that we've quieted the doubt?
I think so. Thank you, Quinn. Goodnight :)
Night, Rabbit ;)
In the morning, Hugo is all talk, recounting his entire day with Quinn in its entirety. He can barely catch his breath between sentences, and Rachel is so happy. Warm in a way that she can barely handle.
Hugo keeps jumping between stories, talking about Lex's collection of comics and Quinn's soccer skills and, and, and. It's obvious how he feels about them, and Rachel is so pleased he's taken to them.
Taken to Quinn, who Rachel suddenly desperately needs Hugo to like. Because Rachel does, more than she ever thought she would. It would be devastating if Hugo decided he didn't want to spend time with Quinn and Lex anymore.
And Max, well, it's obvious he loves Quinn in his own little baby way.
"We're visiting your grandfathers today," Rachel eventually tells him, just managing to get a word in, and all Hugo does is nod in acceptance, before telling her another story about Quinn and Lex and Sasha.
The stories continue even while they're at Rachel's fathers' house, both of them a little wide-eyed at Hugo's enthusiasm. Hiram even pulls her aside to ask about it, because it's so unlike Hugo.
Rachel forces herself not to smile, even though she desperately wants to. She just sips at her coffee and says, "He seems to like them, yes."
"This is the woman who kidnapped them, right?"
Rachel rolls her eyes. "Please, not you too?"
"Me too?"
"I already had Noah, Santana and Kurt stage some warped intervention last night," she explains. "It wasn't pretty."
"What happened?"
With a heavy sigh, Rachel explains what was said, and he raises his eyebrows at the vehemence behind the way Rachel defends Quinn. There's something in his daughter's voice he's not sure he's ever heard before.
"They're my kids," Rachel says, still tense. "And, yes, of course, I appreciate everything everyone's done for us, but I'm the parent. I make the decisions and the choices and I have to deal with all the consequences."
"Of course, Sweetheart," Hiram says, momentarily confused by the emotion in her eyes.
Rachel can't stop herself from thinking that the choice she's made now is Quinn and she's willing to shoulder the consequences of it.
It starts something.
Unlocks it, in a way. Rachel hasn't really done anything like this before. Actually flirted with someone, even over text. It's so different to anything she went through with Jesse, Finn or Brody. Those relationships were all so vastly different to each other, but still the same at the basest truth that Rachel did a lot of the work to keep the relationships ticking along.
Whatever's happening with Quinn is nothing like that.
Quinn is the one who texts first every morning, which could just be because she's an early riser (or Lex is the early riser, who knows?).
Quinn is the one who guides and prolongs conversations, asking questions and quietly letting Rachel know that talking to her isn't annoying or a nuisance.
Quinn is the one who actually calls first, late at night when all the children are asleep, and very casually says, "I had the sudden urge to hear your voice, so I hope this is okay," and Rachel is convinced none of it can be real.
Quinn is the one who jokingly dubs the hardware store as 'their place,' dropping the fact she's planning for a trip in the morning at exactly ten o'clock into their conversation, and Rachel reads it for exactly what it is.
Which is why she finds herself standing in front of Quinn the next morning, feeling like a schoolgirl with a disastrous crush on the uber cool kid in the entire school. Quinn just seems to have that air about her, dressed in those stupid denim shorts and a purple tank top that shows off her arms and -
Arms.
Rachel gulps at the sight of her, hair casually loose and sunglasses perched on top of her head.
"Hey," Rachel says, smiling warmly, because she's totally doing this now. Whatever this is. "Fancy seeing you here."
Quinn rolls her eyes. "You're an idiot."
Rachel grins at her, a strange giddy feeling growing in her chest, and then looks around. "Where's Lex?"
"He's in aisle seven, pouting at the various pool supplies," she explains. "We're having a strange non-fight about the fact we don't have a pool and there's really nothing I can do about it."
Rachel feels herself grow warm, her heart pounding in her chest when she oh-so-casually says, "We have a pool."
Quinn steps closer to her quite suddenly, her hand immediately covering Rachel's mouth. "Don't say that too loudly," she rushes out. "He could hear you."
Rachel stops breathing, because Quinn is touching her. Quinn is touching her mouth. She blinks once, twice, and Quinn seems to catch herself, retracting her hand as if she's been burned.
"Sorry about that," Quinn says, her eyes a little wide. "It's just, God, if he knew you had a pool, he would basically move in with you in a heartbeat."
Rachel physically has to stop herself from telling Quinn she wouldn't mind, because that's just way out of left field. "It's a risk I'm willing to take," she says instead, which is no better than her initial thought. "But, seriously, you guys are welcome to use it whenever you want. Somebody should."
"You don't?"
Rachel pauses, contemplating her next words. "We didn't do a lot of that in New York," she confesses quietly. "It's not really a thing that interests Hugo, and Max is so young."
Quinn exaggerates a gasp. "You are never too young," she says. "Swimming is…" her voice trails off, and her gaze lowers over Rachel's body for a beat, before she seems to catch herself once more. "It, uh, it's great."
Rachel looks at her face, noticing her blush and not quite understanding it. "Are you okay?"
Quinn clears her throat. "Yip," she says a little too quickly. "Just, you know, you should get them swimming. It's fun."
Rachel audibly swallows, and just about manages to find confidence from somewhere to say, "Or, you know, you could."
Quinn regards her carefully. "Is this your way of inviting us both over for a play date?" she asks.
"It is," Rachel confirms. "Is - is that something that would interest you?"
Quinn smiles. "Perhaps," she says, sounding a little coy. "Did you have a day in mind? Our schedule's pretty - "
"Flexible, I remember." She watches Quinn's throat bob, the action so distracting. "Is today too soon?"
Quinn looks a little surprised, but still pleased. "That eager, huh?"
"It's all Hugo," Rachel says, blushing quite suddenly.
"Sure," Quinn says, her tone indicating she doesn't believe a word Rachel's just said. "Me thinks you just want another chance to see my abs."
And, that's about all Rachel can handle. She buries her face in her hands, feeling hot all over. "Oh my God," she mumbles. "I can't believe you noticed that."
Quinn gently removes her hands, holding onto them with one of her own and tilting Rachel's head up with her other. "Believe me, I definitely take notice when a beautiful woman checks me out," she murmurs, which does absolutely nothing to help with Rachel's disposition.
Fortunately or unfortunately, Rachel is saved from further embarrassment when they hear running feet approaching, and Quinn very carefully releases her, touch lingering. She's taken a step away when Lex finally rounds the aisle, skidding to a stop at his mother's side.
"Hello, Hugo's Mom," he says brightly, no sign of a pout in sight. "What are you doing here?"
Rachel blinks, caught off guard by the question, because what is she doing here, indeed?
Quinn grins at her. "Yeah, Hugo's Mom, what on earth are you doing here?"
Rachel shoots a glare at her before smiling at Lex. "Well, Lex," she says. "Your mom and I were just discussing the two of you possibly coming over to our house to use our pool this afternoon."
Lex freezes for a few precious seconds before he practically explodes, making fists of his hands and jumping high in the air. "Yes!" he shouts, and then does a little dance in position. "This is the best day of my life!"
Rachel is just amused watching him, but Quinn hasn't moved, her eyes on Lex, just waiting.
Lex seems to come down to earth eventually, and he takes a comically large breath before he's looking at Quinn and saying, "Please, Mommy, please can we go? I promise I'll be extra good and I won't even do somersaults into the water and I'll make sure to feed Sasha every day and I'll be so, so good. Please, please, please can we go? Pleeeeease."
How Quinn doesn't immediately crack is beyond Rachel, because Lex pulls out some impressive puppy dog eyes that have even Rachel considering giving him her kidney. Sheesh. Those things are a weapon.
Quinn eventually gives in, though she holds out long enough for Lex to stop his pleading and ask just once, his voice serious. Rachel thinks that was the point of it all, and it takes some other kind of strength to accomplish it.
Lex does another little dance, which is amusing for both women. Rachel eventually gives Quinn her address and they discuss a time for the visit. Rachel has a handful of things she wants to ask, namely if Quinn is actually also going to swim and, if so, what is she going to wear?
Quinn must sense it, because her smile is more of a smirk.
Rachel rolls her eyes.
"See you later," Quinn says, winking, and Rachel has no idea how she's supposed to survive any of this.
Well.
Rachel thinks she's prepared.
They're just swimming. Quinn's just going to be wearing something to swim in, surely, and Rachel has nothing to worry about. Which is why she's convinced she can handle just about anything.
And, frankly, she thinks she would be able to, but Quinn is Quinn and Rachel is just now realising that there is something just so stunning about a woman's body, and how could she not have realised this earlier in her life?
Quinn exits the house in a black bikini and short, red board shorts, her hair in a slick ponytail and sunglasses over her eyes, with Lex and Hugo bouncing either side of her.
A bikini.
Rachel thinks she gapes for an embarrassingly long time, but she manages to get a hold of herself, because, hello, there are children around.
But, God, those abs, and that smile and that walk and just everything.
Quinn leads the boys towards where Rachel is sitting on one of the deck chairs with Max, a slight smirk on her face. "You aren't seriously going in like that, are you?" Quinn asks, eyeing the white, flowing summer dress she's thrown on over her own swimsuit.
"Don't worry," Rachel quips, finding her feet; "I'm not about to pull an Ophelia."
Quinn raises her eyebrows in surprise at the allusion, but lets out a soft laugh. "Gotcha," she says, smirk still in place as she turns to Lex and Hugo. "Sunscreen," she instructs. "I want to be able to see the layer on you."
Rachel hands Lex the bottle and he squeezes some into his left hand before giving it to Hugo, who does the same. Quinn watches them carefully, pointing out any spots they miss, and then helping with the areas they can't reach.
Rachel splits her focus between that and making sure Max is also covered in lotion, before all her focus seems to zero in on where Quinn is lathering her legs.
Wow.
Okay.
Rachel has to shake herself to stop her staring, because this is just ridiculous now. But look at her. How can anyone stand not to stare at her?
God. This is turning into a terrible idea. She never should have suggested it.
"All set, Officers?" Quinn asks the boys.
Lex does a little salute in response.
"Head on over," Quinn says; "I'm right behind you."
Lex and Hugo practically skip away, and Quinn turns her attention to Rachel, her expression serious.
"So, Lexicon is a pretty decent swimmer, and I know you said Hubble isn't such a confident swimmer," she says. "You should probably know I'm a trained lifeguard, so I can assure you that your boys will be safe with us."
Rachel blinks up at her. "Boys?" she asks; "as in plural?"
Quinn nods. "I'm taking Maximum in with me."
Rachel's hold on Max automatically tightens, and he looks up at her in confusion. "Is - is that safe?" she asks.
"Of course it is," Quinn says, and she sounds so sure. "I'm sure the little turtle already knows how to swim, anyway."
Rachel feels conflicted. "In theory, maybe, but I've never - I don't - "
Quinn drops to her haunches in front of her, hands resting on Rachel's knees. "You're sitting right here," she says. "You can even come in the water with us." She smiles softly. "You can actually tell me no, but I think he'll enjoy it. Let us try."
It takes another minute, but Rachel eventually nods and releases her grip on Max. Quinn smiles reassuringly, and then lifts Max up, her gaze adoring.
"Let's get to it, Little Nemo," she says, hopping a little as she spins and heads towards the pool where Lex and Hugo are waiting at its edge.
"All right, gentlemen," she calls. "Let the fun begin."
Lex beams are her, and then immediately does a cannonball into the deep end of the medium-sized pool, creating a splash large enough to hit Quinn and Hugo's feet.
Hugo looks at Quinn, uncertainty in his eyes.
"Go on," Quinn tells him. "I'm right here. Just have some fun, and we'll work on improving a little later, okay?"
"Promise?"
"I promise," she assures him. "Ask the lizard there to stay in the shallower water if you're worried, okay? But I'm right here, and I'm watching and I won't let anything happen to you."
Hugo stands perfectly still for a moment, and then jumps into the water behind Lex. Rachel holds her own breath until Hugo's head pops out again and he lets out a happy laugh.
She breathes out in relief and Quinn tosses her a sly look over her shoulder. With Quinn's back to her, Rachel feels a little bit more comfortable staring at her, taking in the muscles of her shoulders and the planes of her back. She's unfairly attractive, and Rachel can't even make sense of the fact an actual human being looks like that.
Quinn stands there for a few minutes, quietly speaking to Max between talking to Lex and Hugo, and Rachel can't bring herself to look away. Eventually, Quinn gets into the water, using the few steps until her lower half is submerged in the shallow end of the pool. She turns a little to the side so Rachel can see the moment Max gets put into the water.
He shrieks, and Rachel's heart leaps into her throat. Her instinct almost makes her go and rescue him, but Quinn just bobs him in the water a few times, dropping her own body further into the water and murmuring sweet words until he calms.
Rachel's heart rate slowly as Max's shrieks turn into gurgles, right until he's laughing, Quinn moving him around with her hands secure under his arms. Her focus is obviously split between Max, and Hugo and Lex, who are splashing each other.
Eventually, Quinn gently urges them to settle and play a game. Hugo opts for something that doesn't include a ball, which makes Rachel smile. Her son is so stupid cute.
They both are. All three of them. Heck, even Quinn is adorable as she pulls funny faces at Max, turning him in the water and letting him get used to it.
Rachel allows the afternoon to settle all around her, a calm seeping into her body that she rarely experiences. She contemplates working on her tan, possibly taking out her book, but she decides neither of those things is appealing to her.
Which is why she gets to her feet and walks towards the pool, choosing to sit on the edge with her legs in the water. Just to be close to them.
Quinn smiles at her, gently gliding Max through the water towards her. "Look who it is, BayMax," she says.
Rachel grins at her baby boy, but feels distinctly warm under Quinn's gaze. And it only gets worse when Quinn very casually asks, "You planning on getting in any time soon?" and does not hide the way her eyes trace the length of Rachel's body.
Rachel audibly gulps. "Eager, are you?"
"Very," Quinn says. "I would very much like it if you would take off that dress to even the playing field here."
"And what game are we playing?" Rachel asks.
Quinn arches an eyebrow. "What makes you think we're playing a game?" she asks, and Rachel feels Quinn's fingers at her ankle. "Playing a game implies there's something to be won, but I reckon it's obvious I've already done that."
"Oh?"
"I'm here with you, aren't I?"
Good God.
Holding onto her sanity is a bit of a struggle all afternoon.
When she's actually trying, Quinn is even more of a flirt in person, her eyes and her words full of intent.
Rachel even dips into the water for a few minutes, getting cheers from Hugo and Lex and actual clapping from Max. She might confess to doing it all for Quinn's reaction if pushed hard enough, because, my God, it's worth it.
Quinn's jaw literally drops when Rachel removes her dress, revealing a white one-piece and her long, tan legs. Quinn barely says a word for the entire time she's in the water, which would be alarming if it weren't so pleasing.
She doesn't stay in the water very long, though, and Quinn actually turns red when she steps out. It makes her feel as if she's accomplished something being the one to affect Quinn this way. There's dark desire in her eyes that makes Rachel hot all over, and the water was supposed to cool her down.
She towels herself off and slips her dress back on before anything further inappropriate can occur, and then she goes into the house to prepare a few snacks and drinks. There's a certain comfort to this entire day, but there's also a burning tension in the air that's been threatening to ignite for quite some time now.
Possibly since they met, really.
The idea of that is wild; that Rachel has always reacted so viscerally to Quinn because she's actually attracted to her. Because she is. Now that she's recognised it, acknowledged it, accepted it and actually feels ready for it; she knows Quinn is waiting for her to be the one to take whatever step they're about to take next.
Soon, she decides, as she lifts her prepared tray and goes back outside.
And promptly loses it completely.
Whatever battle she's convinced she's fighting just falls to nothing, because Quinn is lying on a deck chair when Rachel comes back out with a tray of lemonade and oat cookies. She's just there, her hair hanging loose over her shoulders, looking calm and relaxed.
With Max completely passed out on her chest.
Rachel almost trips over her own feet at the sight. She can hear Quinn humming, her focus obviously on the pool where Lex is trying to teach Hugo how to do a somersault under water. Just like that, Quinn watches and protects, and relaxes and looks stunning.
Rachel has thought about kissing her, of course, but this is the moment she thinks she might actually do it. She knows Quinn won't be the first to take that step, because they're obviously moving at Rachel's pace.
Whenever she's ready.
Quinn spots her a moment later, and she grins widely. "Henry there was singing your praises about this lemonade," she says. "I'm thinking you must put a little something extra in there."
"My tears."
Quinn chuckles, careful not to jostle Max too much by placing a warm hand on his back.
Rachel sets the tray on the little table between their deck chairs, but she doesn't hand Quinn a glass. Instead, she moves to her side and -
Unable to stop herself, she runs a hand over Quinn's hair, smoothing it down. It's still damp from her swim, but it's soft and warm from the sun.
"Hey," Quinn murmurs. "Everything okay?"
Rachel tucks some hair behind her ear, her own fingers tingling where she's touching her. "Everything is perfect," she says, and she means it. "Just perfect."
Quinn looks a little bemused, but she's smiling. "Tell me you actually put Whiskey in that lemonade," she jokes, and Rachel surprises them both by bending to place a kiss to the top of her head.
Quinn stiffens for a moment, but she relaxes at the contact, and then Rachel is gone before either one of them can say anything. She just hands Quinn a glass, barely able to look her in the eye, her body flushed from the sun and her actions.
Quinn's fingers purposefully brush against hers, and she says, "You like me, don't you?"
Rachel bravely looks at her face, convinced she's looking into her eyes, even though she's wearing sunglasses. "It appears I do," she agrees quietly, and there's really nothing more to it.
Later, when Quinn has returned to the pool with Hugo, taking the time to help him with his strokes and general confidence, Rachel lounges on her own deck chair, Max in her lap and Lex sitting cross-legged on the other deck chair, sipping at his lemonade.
"Thank you for letting us come over," he says, his eyes so green in the sunlight. His hair is darker than Quinn's normally, but the light of the day makes it seem blonder. The freckles on his nose are also more prominent like this. "Mom won't say it, but I know she gets lonely, so it's cool we could both be here."
Rachel's heart twists at the confession. "Any time, Lex," she says, and she means it. "I want you to know you're always welcome here, okay?"
He grins at her, and she marvels at the very truth that this person is Quinn's son. He's the best part of her, and it is everything.
"Your mom says you've been swimming for a long time," she starts, just curious to learn more about him.
Lex nods, eager to share. "Mom says I learned how to swim before I could walk," he says, giggling. "It's my favourite sport after soccer, and my Aunt Lou and Aunt Jane have a pool in New Haven. We used to go over to their house all the time."
Rachel smiles. "You miss them, don't you?"
Lex hesitates, and then nods. "It's just weird not having them around," he explains. "They're my godmothers, and this is almost the longest I've gone without seeing them."
"Are they going to be visiting any time soon?"
He shrugs. "I don't know," he says. "I think Aunt Lou will make us visit them in New Haven before they come back." He rolls his eyes. "Mom calls her a drama queen."
"My best friend is also a bit of a drama queen," she says, which is a truth that refers to both Santana and Kurt. "What about your best friend?"
Lex's face falls a little. "All my friends are still in New Haven, I guess," he says. "Mom says I'll make new ones, though." He visibly shakes off his melancholy. "And I guess I've made one already, right?"
Rachel returns his smile. "I reckon it's more than just one, Lex," she says, and his answering grin is every bit worth it.