AN: So, back in the day, when I first went looking for Quinn's birthday, I found this particular date. Maybe. I can't really remember, but I somehow picked today's date, 10 February, all the way back in 1994. It's rather close to my own birth date, so I just rolled with it. [Aquarians really are the bomb.] So, happy birthday to ForForever19's Quinn Fabray, and here's an update to celebrate. It's the date.
[Also, in my initial research, I found Rachel's to be 18 December 1993, though maybe it's actually 1994, but I really like the headcanon that Rachel is older by a few months, and positively hates it. Quinn loves to tease her about it, of course - because Rachel, the cougar.]
VIII
Rachel decides, even before she talks to Quinn about it, that she's not going to tell anyone they're going on a date - she just feels better about the decision after the call has ended.
It's not as if she's actually talking to her friends at the moment, anyway, and she won't even know how to begin a conversation like that with Hugo. God. How is she supposed to tell him she's dating Quinn? This woman he so obviously adores, who has proven herself to him time and time again.
If things go wrong between them, is Quinn going to be just another person Hugo loses? And, will her son ever forgive her if she's the one to drive Quinn and Lex away? What if she won't be able to see Lex anymore?
This is a terrible idea.
Why are they even taking this risk?
It's just as those thoughts are floating through her mind that she feels her phone buzz in her hand, her head and heart already knowing it's a text from Quinn. It's almost as if she knows. She just knows Rachel is having doubts, and exactly when she's having them.
I'm just warning you in advance that I'm wearing my leather jacket tonight. You know, just to prepare you for the sight of my 'ridiculously hot body' in leather. That's all.
Another buzz.
Also, I can't wait to see you.
The feeling that spreads through her isn't explainable, so she won't bother. All she knows is it's overwhelming and completely wonderful. She does her best to hold onto it as she goes through the day, her own nerves ebbing and flowing.
When it's time to get ready - she gives herself only two hours, so she doesn't overthink anything - she panics a little. Normally, she would consult Kurt for something like this, but they're not really speaking at the moment.
She's staring down her disastrous closet when Hugo knocks on her open bedroom door and pokes his head inside, smiling at her in a way he hasn't since before Quinn entered their lives.
"Hey," Rachel says, feeling her nerves spike when he steps into the room.
"What are you doing?" Hugo asks.
"Trying to figure out what to wear," she admits.
Hugo moves to stand at her side, peering into the closet with her. "Where are you going?"
"Just to Rose's," she says, watching his face for any kind of reaction. "With Quinn."
He instantly brightens at the sound of Quinn's name, which makes Rachel's heart stutter. She can't tell if he would be devastated to know she wants to date Quinn; that there's a part of her that wants Quinn for herself. It's maybe selfish, but she can't stop herself from wanting it; wanting her.
"Quinn's favourite colour is red," Hugo says. "Should I also wear red?"
Rachel audibly swallows. "If you want to," she tells him. "But, you know that you're going to your grandfathers' house, right?"
Hugo pauses. "Oh, right, yes," he says, frowning. "Does that mean you're going with Lex?"
"No," she says. "Just the adults. You, Lex and Max are going to spend the evening with Grandpa H and Grandpa Lee."
Hugo smiles in response. "Oh, cool, that's even better."
"Excuse you," she jokes, gently pushing his shoulder.
He grins at her, wide and relaxed and happy. "Well, I still think you should go with red," he says, and Rachel tries her best not to read into that.
Later, Rachel is suddenly thankful for the warning, because Quinn looks ridiculously amazing when Rachel opens the door to her fathers' house to reveal her two favourite blondes.
Quinn is just standing there, wearing tight black jeans ripped at the knees, a sleeveless, low-cut white blouse and black suede boots with just the slightest heel. It's all topped with a black leather jacket that hangs open on her frame to reveal her gorgeous collarbones and the fact the front of her shirt is tucked into her jeans.
Her hair is curled a little haphazardly, as if it's been windswept, and her makeup is just left of smokey, and Rachel can't bear to look away from her for even a second.
In contrast, Lex is wearing a pair of blue cotton shorts, flip-flops and a Spider-Man t-shirt. His hair is sticking up a little at the back, his eyes bright and his smile wide.
"Hi, Rachel," Lex says sweetly, and Rachel loves him, she really does. "You look pretty. I like the colour of your dress."
The compliment catches her off guard, and it takes her a moment to realise she has to say, "Well, thank you, Lex."
His smile widens, and Rachel sees Quinn drop a hand onto his shoulder and give it a light squeeze.
"Hello," Quinn says, her smile so gentle. "It really is a lovely dress."
Before Rachel can reply, Hugo appears at her side, beaming. "You're here," he says, louder than Quinn's probably ever heard him before.
Lex moves forward then, hugging both mother and son with his small arms. Rachel pats his back gently, her eyes on Quinn, who is watching her in return.
The entire greeting probably takes longer than is strictly necessary, because it takes LeRoy calling, "You know, Sweetheart, it's only polite to invite our guests inside."
Rachel flushes darkly, and then waves Quinn and Lex into the house, closing the door behind them.
Truly, Rachel isn't sure what to expect of this moment, and she almost wants Quinn to take the lead. Which is exactly what she does. Quinn is all formal and polite as she introduces herself and Lex to both Hiram and LeRoy, who shake her firm hand and smile at her.
Rachel watches it all, feeling her nerves slowly dissipate. She thinks Quinn has definitely won them over when she reacts to the sight of Max, her entire being lighting up as she swoops down to scoop him up off the floor and pepper his face with kisses.
Then, God, she looks at Hugo, who is giggling at her antics, and she says, "What's that, H-Man? Did you say you'd like kisses, too?"
Hugo immediately shakes his head, trying to back away, only for Lex to press his hands to his back to stop him and keep him within Quinn's clutches, all of them laughing.
Rachel is so engrossed in watching them that she doesn't even realise LeRoy has come to stand beside her until he says, "She's good with the boys."
Rachel audibly swallows, though she doesn't know why. Quinn is good with her kids. That's it, but it's everything.
"Is she good with you, too?" LeRoy asks, his voice soft.
"What?" she squeaks.
LeRoy's smile is knowing, but he doesn't elaborate on his question. Whatever he's asking isn't meant to be said out loud.
Rachel glances at Quinn, who, incidentally, isn't paying her any attention. It makes her a little uncomfortable realising that Quinn is basically doing what she thinks Rachel wants her to: acting as if nothing is going on between them.
She clears her throat, and says, "She is, yes."
LeRoy bumps her with his shoulder. "There's no need for you two to rush," he says quietly. "Enjoy your night out without a worry, okay? The boys will be fine, so just - "
"Daddy," she breathes. "We really don't need to do this."
"Don't we?" he asks, mildly curious. "Who else are you talking to?"
Rachel glances at Quinn, who's now talking to Hiram about her grandmother. "I'm talking to Quinn," she says. "She's the first person I feel as if I can talk to about anything and not have her judge me for it."
His face falls for a moment, but it settles eventually, because he must know. It's different with parents. It's just different with fathers and daughters, and Rachel now has this person in her life whom she can talk to.
"I'm glad you've found that, Sweetheart," he says.
Rachel blushes, because this is a conversation she's not ready for at all. "Hugo doesn't know," she says. "Nobody does."
LeRoy nods in understanding, and she can't help wondering if every LGBTQ+ person is born with the Understanding Gene. Quinn questioned nothing, and her father doesn't look at all curious as to her reasoning.
"She said whenever I'm ready," she whispers.
"Sounds like a keeper," he comments, and she's planning on doing just that: keeping her.
"I was sorry to hear of her passing," Hiram says, and Rachel turns her attention to where Quinn and Hiram are approaching. "We used to play Bridge together."
Quinn's smile is a little sad. "I hadn't seen her for a while," she admits. "I have regrets about it."
Hiram rests a hand on her shoulder. "I think we both know she wouldn't want that for you."
Quinn just hums. "I'm working on it," she lets him know, and then comes to a stop in front of Rachel. "Hey, you ready to go?"
"Just about," she says. "Let me grab my purse and I'll meet you at the door." She kisses each of her fathers on the cheek, and then seeks out the boys to say a quick farewell, before she ducks into the kitchen to get a hold of herself.
She's going on a date with Quinn.
She's going on an actual date.
She wonders if it's going to be different once they're alone, because Quinn has played it very cool while they've been in front of her fathers and the boys. She's acting as if they're not going on a date at all, and it worries Rachel, even though it's partly what she wants.
Nobody can know.
It's just that the idea of Quinn turning off her charm is unsettling. Dating shouldn't be this hard, should it? She's aware she's probably making it more difficult than it needs to be, but she sees no other way. She's not ready for that, but she's ready for this.
She takes a deep breath, gathers her things, and then heads out to the entrance hall where Quinn is dutifully waiting, smile in place and looking unfairly attractive. Her eyes light up when she spots Rachel, and it strikes Rachel as odd that this woman seems to draw as much joy being in her presence as Rachel does in hers.
She's never really experienced that before. She was just part of a plan for Jesse, a distraction for Finn and something to be kept for Brody.
"Ready to go?" Quinn asks, looking a little uncertain. "We - we can call it off, if you're - "
"No," she blurts. "I'm okay. I am."
"Okay," Quinn says, turning and opening the door. "After you."
Rachel takes a long, calming breath, and then walks out the door, her arm casually brushing against Quinn's front. She hears a hitch in Quinn's breathing, and she can't help her smug smile. She also hopes Quinn takes it as a sign that she does want this, and she wants Quinn to turn her charm back on. She wants the real, genuine Quinn, and she wishes it were easier for her to be comfortable with it. She just hopes Quinn isn't too put off by it.
Rachel realises she needn't have worried, because, as soon as the door closes behind them, Quinn kisses her cheek, carefully linking their fingers and squeezing. "You are stunning," she whispers. "God, I could stare at you forever."
Rachel doesn't move, standing perfectly still and keeping Quinn in place.
"Too much?" Quinn asks, worried.
Rachel kisses her, chaste and purposeful. "Just enough," she murmurs, and relaxes when Quinn smiles.
"Come on," Quinn says, tugging on her hand and leading the way over the porch, down the stairs and towards the driveway. "I want to introduce you to my second baby." She pauses, looking thoughtful. "Or, I guess, third, after you."
"Your what?" she asks, and then gets her answer when she sees a fire red Mustang parked in the driveway, all shiny and muscly. Quinn looks so, so proud when Rachel glances at her. "You really do like the colour red, don't you?" she asks.
Quinn frowns. "What?"
"Nothing," Rachel says, internally amused. "What's her name?"
Quinn laughs, loud and gorgeous. "Believe it or not," she says, moving to open the passenger door for Rachel; "I never could decide on one."
"Well, if it isn't my two favourite people," Marley says the second she sees them, Quinn's left hand casually resting against Rachel's lower back. "Just the two of you?"
Rachel tenses, almost without her say-so, but Quinn maintains her smile and says, "Thought the adults deserved a night off for a change."
Marley nods, as if she understands. "Totally," she says. "There are tables free near the stage, if you want a good view."
Quinn looks at Rachel, asking a silent question. "That sounds good," she eventually tells Marley. "I'm trying to convince this one to sing, so I can hear what all the fuss is about."
"She's amazing!" Marley almost blurts out, blushing. "Like a total living legend at McKinley."
Quinn grins at Rachel. "Hear that, Superstar, you're a legend."
"Which is really just another way of calling me old," Rachel grumbles, which makes both Quinn and Marley chuckle.
Quinn thanks Marley quietly, and then leads Rachel through the diner. There don't seem to be any children around, but there are small groups of teenagers and yuppies, and other couples hanging around in anticipation for the start of the evening.
Rachel picks a table in the corner, more for privacy than to hide them, and she hopes Quinn knows that. She's not ashamed. She's just - she's not ready.
Quinn pulls out her chair for her, and then immediately moves to her side of the table, her brow furrowed uncomfortably, as if she's quietly chastising herself for displaying her chivalry so openly.
Rachel doesn't know whether to laugh or cry, because Quinn is so adorable and Rachel hates that she has to second-guess herself this way. Rachel's sure people aren't actually looking at them, but she still feels the burn of people's gazes. It makes her skin crawl, and she doesn't know if she'll be able to relax in this environment.
She can sense Quinn watching her; studying her and waiting on her. Quinn says nothing, though, allowing Rachel's shoulders to relax. It happens slowly, almost infinitesimally, and, eventually, Marley brings them menus with glasses of water.
"So, am I putting any names down to perform?" Marley asks, a glint of mischief in her eye.
"Definitely Gooseberry's over there," Quinn immediately says, grinning.
"Already done," Marley says. "What about you, Quinn? You seem like the type to have some musical talent."
Quinn laughs. "I don't know about that."
"Come on," Rachel goads, finally comfortable enough to find her voice. "We can do a duet."
Quinn gives her an uncertain look. "You do realise I could totally suck, right?"
"It'll just make me look better," Rachel jokes.
"I'm feeling attacked right now," Quinn murmurs, looking disgruntled.
Rachel smiles at her, soft and sweet.
It's okay.
She feels okay.
"Fine, okay, sure," Quinn eventually says. "It'd be unfair to send her up there on her own, wouldn't it?"
"That's the spirit," Marley says, smiling brightly. "I'll be back in a bit to get your food order." And then she's off.
Quinn settles into her seat a bit more, her eyes perusing the menu. Rachel already knows what she's getting, so she uses the opportunity to look at Quinn, who is even more stunning in the dim light of the diner. It really transforms itself on Open Mic nights, giving way to more of a café vibe, and Rachel knows this is Marley's proudest night, having come up with the idea herself.
Quinn looks pleased when Rachel mentions it. "Is this some kind of music town?"
Rachel shakes her head. "Not really," she says. "If you're going to look at it based on National Championships, then it's definitely not a football one, though our show choir did win it once, when I was a senior."
"Total legend."
"It's probably a cheerleading town," Rachel says, ignoring her. "The Squad was unstoppable when I went to McKinley, but they hadn't won again until Santana took over a few years ago."
Quinn's smile flickers at the mention of Santana's name, and Rachel feels as if it's something they should probably discuss. Even though Rachel isn't too happy with her friends at the moment, she's bound to tell them about this gorgeous woman she's dating at some point, and -
Marley comes back before Rachel can say anything, ready to take their order, and Quinn invites her to go first. On dates she's been on before, her companions have had the tendency to want to order for her, as if she isn't capable, but Quinn looks relaxed and accepting.
"Oh, uh, I'll just have the mushroom stroganoff, please?"
Marley scribbles something on her little notepad, and then looks at Quinn expectantly.
Quinn clears her throat. "Can we please get a village salad for the table?" she asks, leaning forward slightly. "And I'll have the beef burger with sweet potato fries, as well."
Marley jots it down, smiles widely, and then bolts.
Quinn looks at Rachel, a bit of mischief in her eyes. "I would ask if beef is a dealbreaker, but I think bacon and pickles set a marker, so I'm definitely guessing I don't have anything to be worried about."
"You're an idiot."
Quinn winks at her, which is just not fair. "And, yet, you still like me."
Rachel is proud of the fact she doesn't immediately look around to see if anyone has heard Quinn. It could just be considered some friendly banter. There's nothing to worry about; nothing giving them away.
"Tell me about your day," Quinn says, and she looks so genuinely interested that Rachel startles a bit. They've been texting throughout the day, and still Quinn wants to know some of the basic, boring things.
Eventually, she says, "Hugo knows your favourite colour is red."
Quinn blinks, and then allows her eyes to wander down over Rachel's body that is, incidentally, covered in a red dress. Rachel suddenly feels hot all over, warm under Quinn's gaze.
It is hot in here, right?
"Oh, so, does that explain this particular outfit choice?"
"My son picked it."
Quinn smiles. "At least he has choice," she says. "If I let my son dress me, I would've shown up in khaki shorts and a Captain America t-shirt."
"So, just your everyday clothes, huh?"
Quinn fakes a laugh. "You think you're funny, don't you?"
"I do, actually."
"Confused woman."
Rachel looks right into her eyes, just as Quinn lifts her glass to her mouth, and says, "Not anymore."
Quinn chokes on her water, some of it dribbling out of her mouth. She reaches for a napkin to catch it, glaring at Rachel in the process. "Why?" she accuses. "Just, why?"
Rachel just smiles as innocently as she can manage, and then sips at her own water.
"You're not getting any dessert," Quinn says.
"We'll see about that."
Quinn grins at her. "Wow, you're just on a roll tonight, aren't you?"
And, Rachel feels fine. She's calm and relaxed and very focused on Quinn and nobody else. They're on a date. Wow. Surely, it shouldn't feel this easy just to exist with another human being. It's just never been before, and she can't tell if something's changed about her, or if it's Quinn.
Is it because Quinn is a woman? Or because she's just not anyone else Rachel's dated?
"Hey," Quinn suddenly says. "Where did you go?"
Rachel breathes out, and then blurts, "I've never dated a woman before."
Quinn's smile is soft, a mixture between amusement and understanding. "Would you be insulted if I tell you I kind of figured that out on my own?"
Rachel blushes. "Because I've been such a disaster?"
Quinn chuckles. "It may have contributed, yes, but it's not the main reason."
"What is?"
"It's you," Quinn says. "Even just the way you look at me. It's as if it's all so new to you."
"It is," Rachel confirms.
Quinn shifts forward, resting her forearms on the table. "Though, sometimes I get the feeling the 'newness' you're experiencing has very little to do with my gender."
Rachel shifts in her seat. "My dating record isn't anything to write home about."
"What makes you think mine is?"
"You just seem… more put together when it comes to this kind of stuff."
"This kind of stuff?"
Rachel gestures between them. "Relationships, I guess."
Quinn seems to ponder that. "I think I give off that impression, because I'm not wary of the fact you're a woman," she says, her voice careful. "But, I've had some terrible experiences, as well."
"Blair?"
Quinn freezes, her eyes widening as the colour drains from her face. "What?"
Rachel panics at the reaction. "Uh, Lex once mentioned the name," she rushes to explain. "In the hardware store. Something about yelling at you. I'm sorry."
Quinn doesn't say anything or even move for a long, long time, and Rachel worries that she's ruined everything. Eventually, Quinn clears her throat and says, "Blair was probably the most significant relationship I've ever had." She looks away. "It didn't end well, at all. I - I'm prepared to tell you about it, but perhaps now isn't the time."
Rachel nods vigorously. "Of course, yes," she says. "Sorry I brought it up."
"It's okay," Quinn assures her. "I'd just rather tonight be about us, if that's all right."
Rachel just keeps nodding, mentally kicking herself for making things so awkward. "That sounds perfect."
It takes a few minutes, but they're finally able to get back to something that resembles easy banter. Marley helps by bringing their food, her joy infectious, and Quinn seems to relax even more when she's able to talk about their food.
"I'm not actually a fan of mushrooms," Quinn says, carefully chewing one of her fries.
Rachel gapes at her, scandalised. "What?"
"I know," Quinn groans. "I just can't. I don't know what's wrong with me."
"And Lex? Is this something genetic?"
"Loves them," Quinn says with a shake of her head. "I can't explain it. He's weirdly a fan of quite a few vegetables. Even Brussels sprouts."
"That's not normal."
"You're telling me," Quinn comments. "I think it's the other genes running through him, to be honest."
Rachel is tempted to ask, because she wants to know everything about Quinn, but she holds her tongue. It's not as if she wants to be talking about any of her past relationships. Right now, or ever.
So, instead, they talk about food and wine and Quinn's kitchen and Rachel's songwriting and Max's growing confidence at standing. It's the only time they really delve into speaking about their children, which is both a relief and surprising. A little refreshing, too, because most of her conversations usually revolve around her children or her relationships.
Quinn did say she wanted to get to know the woman, Rachel Berry, and Rachel feels weirdly compelled to give this woman exactly what she wants.
"We are not singing Lady Marmalade."
Rachel gives Quinn her most innocent look, but Quinn isn't buying it.
"No ways," Quinn says. "There is absolutely no way. Like, I will walk right out of here and wait for you in the car."
Rachel pouts. "Well, at least I know you won't just leave me here."
Quinn gives her a serious look. "Has someone done that before?"
Rachel ignores the question in favour of looking through the song list on her phone's screen. They haven't really thought this through, given they don't actually have the backing music for any songs with them. Or lyrics.
"You should just sing by yourself," Quinn says, allowing her question to remain unanswered. For now, though, because there's suddenly a growing hitlist in Quinn's mind.
"No," Rachel says. "We're going to find a song you can sing."
"I just want to hear you," Quinn argues. "It's all I want."
"And, I want to hear you," Rachel immediately counters, and then smirks a little. "Though, I'd rather it be in an entirely different setting."
Quinn glares playfully at her. "You should know, Raindrop, that I am purposefully leaving all innuendo out of all my comebacks, mainly because I'm respectful."
"And I'm not?"
"Not right now, you're not," Quinn says, a little primly. "You want us to sing Lady Marmalade, for goodness' sake."
"It's a great song," Rachel points out. "And, you can't even sit there and tell me you don't know the lyrics."
Quinn says nothing.
Rachel smiles in triumph, wincing when the performer just taking to the stage prompts some feedback from the microphone. "Ouch," she murmurs, as her finger continues to scroll. "Ooh, what about - "
Quinn reaches for her hand quite suddenly, her eyes a little wide.
"What? What's wrong?"
Quinn takes her hand back after a quick squeeze. "It's okay," she says softly. "It's okay. I promise it's okay, and I'm here and not going anywhere."
Rachel's frown deepens in confusion. "What are you - "
"Hi, Rachel."
She freezes.
Of course this would happen.
Of course.
Quinn sits a little straighter in her seat, her face taking on something exceptionally blank, and Rachel wonders if there's more going on when it comes to Quinn Fabray and Noah Puckerman. She hasn't asked Quinn how that particular dispute is going, and, based on Quinn's reaction, it looks as if it's nothing good.
"Didn't know you were going to be here," Noah says, his eyes solely on Rachel, as if Quinn isn't even sitting there. It makes Rachel's skin crawl, because there's absolutely nothing to be ignored about Quinn Fabray.
Still, she nods, ever polite, and says, "Well, yes, we thought we deserved an adults' night out."
"Totally get that," he says, which he obviously doesn't, because how can he? "That's what the guys and I are doing."
Rachel looks over her shoulder to where he's just indicated, and her stomach churns at the sight of Finn sitting with Jake and Tristan. She quickly looks away, determinedly not meeting Finn's gaze.
"San and Britt are actually on their way," Noah says. "They mentioned trying to get a hold of you."
Rachel sighs, because this night has the potential to turn into a disaster if that happens.
"You should join us," Noah offers, and then very purposefully says, "whenever you're done here."
Rachel lifts her gaze to look at him, unsure what she's going to see there, and she's a little thrown by the sudden smirk on his face. One glance at Quinn and the woman's left eyebrow has arched.
"We might be a while," Rachel says, her voice tense.
Noah looks momentarily surprised, but he quickly schools his features. "Sure, whatever," he says. "It's not like we're going anywhere." And then walks away.
Rachel can feel stares on her back. Glares, really, and she knows they can't stay. There's no way they can.
Quinn senses it, too, and she leans forward, her right hand twitching on the table. "Do you want to get out of here?" Quinn asks.
Rachel barely hesitates. "Please."
"Don't laugh."
Quinn gives her an incredulous look. "Never going to happen."
Rachel mirrors her expression. "It could."
"I promise it won't."
Rachel looks out the windscreen for a moment, taking in their view. It's not much, but it's secluded and quiet and it's just the two of them looking into some kind of ravine. If she were anyone else, Rachel might think it's the beginning of a horror film.
Well.
"Please will you sing something," Quinn says. "I won't laugh. I just - I just really want to hear you."
Still, Rachel eyes her skeptically. "Promise?"
Quinn's features soften to a point where Rachel actually has to look away before her own heart explodes. "I promise," she vows, her voice low and heavy with something.
It makes Rachel feel inexplicably nervous, which is so strange. As if this moment holds more importance than either of them even knows. It probably does, and Rachel tries not to read too much into it when Quinn takes hold of her hand and just holds it.
"Can I sing you a song I wrote?"
"Baby, you can sing Mary Had a Little Lamb for all I care," Quinn assures her. "But, yes, please, I'd love to hear something you wrote."
"It's called Get It Right," Rachel explains. "I went through quite a rough time in high school." She pauses. "And in college. Just in life, in general, I suppose, so it's a little bit about all of that."
Quinn just nods, her eyes never straying from Rachel's face the entire time she sings. It feels so intimate in a way that's terrifying. The song is stripped bare, an a cappella version that shows off her range and all her vulnerability.
And, still, Quinn sits and watches, her gaze focused and her mouth set into a soft smile as she listens.
What can you do when you're good isn't good enough?
And all that you touch tumbles down?
My best intentions keep making a mess of things
I just wanna fix it somehow
But how many times will it take?
Oh, how many times will it take to get it right, to get it right?
When it's over, Quinn says and does nothing. She just continues to sit there, eyes a little wide, looking stunned. "Jesus Christ," she eventually breathes. "I was not ready for that."
Rachel can't even look at Quinn in this moment.
"You are amazing," Quinn says. "God, what the hell are you still doing here?"
Rachel frowns, a little confused. "What are you - "
Quinn suddenly leans forward, surprising them both. "There are so many things I want to say to you right now, but all I can think about is how your voice just made me feel." She does a little jiggle in place, visibly shivering. "Watching you, hearing you - God."
Rachel has no idea what to say in response. Nothing.
Quinn eventually settles back in her seat, smiling a little sheepishly. "Sorry," she says. "I just - yeah, you're fucking amazing."
Rachel preens, a little embarrassed by how much warmth spreads through her body at being complimented by a pretty girl.
"All I want is for you to keep singing," Quinn says; "but I'm pretty sure you don't want to spend the rest of our night doing that."
"Well," she says a little coyly. "My Daddy did give me express permission to stay out as long as I want to."
Quinn grins at her. "Is that so?"
Rachel sobers slightly, her brow furrowing in thought. "I think he suspects what's really going on, mainly because I probably suck at being subtle."
"You do," Quinn agrees, and then laughs when Rachel swats at her arm. "It's true, though. You've wanted me since you laid eyes on me and you haven't known how to deal with it at all."
"Tell me you never panicked," she huffs.
Quinn's smile slips from her face. "I did," she says. "It took me years to be comfortable with it, and, by the time I was, I had a son and my family wanted nothing to do with me."
"I've never met your family, but they sound horrible."
Quinn shrugs. "It's their loss. My kid is pretty great."
"He really is," Rachel echoes, smiling softly at merely the thought of Lex. "You've done such a great job with him, Quinn."
Quinn reaches for her hand and pulls it into her lap. "I - it's always been a worry of mine."
"Mine too," Rachel whispers. "I - I don't know I would have done anything without help."
"It does take a village," Quinn quips.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
Rachel contemplates her next words, because she's not sure she wants to shed light on the strife even her 'acquaintance' with Quinn has caused with her friends. "I assume Louisa and Jane were great helps when Lex was born?"
"Oh, definitely," Quinn answers quickly, snorting lightly. "Sometimes, it's as if he has three mothers."
Rachel's brow furrows. "But, you're his mom, right? They know that? They respect that?"
Quinn looks serious. "They do, yes," she says. "I think it was different before they got married and had their own child. They've always been involved in his life, but whatever decisions to be made about his life come from me, though Blue is never hesitant to provide her opinion."
"What about the people you've dated?"
Quinn frowns. "I'm not sure what you're asking."
"Did they have a say in who you let associate with Lex?"
Quinn shifts slightly. "Well, no, not really," she says truthfully. "They trust me to decide what's best for him, because it's my job." She licks her lips, thoughtful. "My last relationship, Blair, I waited a while to introduce her to Lex, which was mainly about her hesitance around children. Not everyone is comfortable with them."
"Was she, in the end?"
Quinn clenches her jaw. "I think she was more interested in being his friend than possibly being a parent to him."
"And what did Louisa and Jane have to say about that?"
"They wanted me to be happy," Quinn says. "And, for a while, I like to think I was."
"But...?"
Quinn smiles a little. "We're going on only our first date, Cranberry, and I'm already happier with you than I've ever been with anyone else."
Rachel blushes, ducking her head to hide it.
"Hey," Quinn says, getting her attention. "I'm not entirely sure what's going on, but I think I have an idea. You are Hobart's mother. You gave birth to him, and you're raising him to the best of your ability. Needing help is not a failure. Asking for help doesn't make you any less of a parent. Assistance isn't conditional, and I hate that anyone has made you feel as if you're making the wrong choices."
Rachel fiddles with the hem of her dress. "I chose Finn, and that was wrong."
"No," Quinn says, stern. "Baby, no."
"It's true, though," she argues. "You can't say it was right."
Quinn takes a deep breath. "What I think would have been wrong is staying with him after you knew his character," she says. "People present themselves differently to different people. You have to trust yourself."
"I trust you," she says, which isn't what she initially intends to say.
Quinn looks a little startled, but she eventually smiles. "Then listen to what I'm saying," she says. "Children are tricky. So are relationships. The entire thing is a minefield, and there will be times like this when you question everything, but I'm here to tell you that you're doing great."
"Only because I've had help," she adds. "And that means - "
"It means nothing," Quinn says, her voice picking up an edge that Rachel's never heard before. "You owe nothing to anybody, okay? Do you hear me? Nothing."
Rachel gulps, surprised by how attractive she suddenly finds Quinn. Her gaze is hard and unforgiving, and Rachel wants to kiss her.
"You are Hugo's Mom, and that's it," Quinn says, her tone severe. "If you want or need any help, you call me, okay? I will never hold it over you or against you or remind you of it or even use it as an excuse to get something from you."
Rachel stares at her in a little wonder, because there's no way she's real. She can't be. "Where did you come from?" she asks.
Quinn grins at her. "New Haven, remember?"
Rachel smiles, looking very amused. "I remember," she murmurs, and her gaze drops to Quinn's lips for a moment.
"What else do you remember?" Quinn asks, her voice lowering in register, a breathless quality to it.
"So many things," Rachel murmurs.
Quinn shifts closer, almost without Rachel's notice. "Oh?"
"Uh huh."
"Like what?"
Rachel's gaze drops again, watching Quinn's lips as they move. She audibly swallows, wanting. "Quinn," she breathes, giving express permission.
And Quinn kisses her, deeply and slowly. Her heart thumps wildly, her breathing ragged, and all she wants to do is touch and taste and feel. She wants nothing more than to exist in this moment forever.
Quinn shifts closer, leaning over the centre console and gripping Rachel's hips. For whatever reason, the action makes Rachel feel like a teenager, stealing kisses in a parked car and giggling all the while. Quinn tastes like coffee and something sweet, her mouth warm against Rachel's.
"We're totally doing this," Rachel says between kisses, her breathing completely ragged. "We're totally making out in your car, oh my God."
Quinn sucks on her bottom lip, eventually trapping it between her teeth. "Hmm," she murmurs. "It'd be way more authentic in the backseat."
Which is really how Rachel finds herself with her back pressed against leather seats, Quinn solid on top of her. It's overwhelming being kissed so thoroughly and touched so desperately. There's a controlled excitement to the way Quinn kisses, one hand keeping Rachel's leg hooked around her hip, and the other gentle against her cheek.
Rachel keeps her one hand in Quinn's hair, gripping tightly, and the other wrapped around her bicep. It's supposed to keep her steady, but just being able to feel Quinn's muscles under her fingers, now that the leather jacket is somewhere on the floor, has Rachel's blood boiling. She wants to touch more of Quinn, almost desperately, so she does. She untucks Quinn's shirt and slides her hand under the white fabric, both of them gasping at the first contact.
"Baby," Quinn chokes out, and it's almost a warning.
Rachel doesn't heed it, rather digging her nails into the delicate skin of Quinn's back and forcing Quinn's hips forward. The kiss changes then, going from sweet desperation to something hot and heavy, the windows even steaming. Quinn kisses with little abandon, her mouth moving to the same rhythm as the rest of her body, and Rachel is just trying to keep up.
Rachel knows they're not going any further than this tonight, though she can't be sure how she knows. Just that she does.
So they kiss and they kiss, and Rachel imagines the world has slowed to a stop all around them. It's just the two of them existing in this little bubble, Quinn's breath in her ear and her hands everywhere.
It feels so good to be wanted this way, sure, but there's more to it. There's so much more to it, because Quinn isn't pushing for that one thing everyone wants.
God, even Rachel wants it right now, her body begging for some kind of release.
"Quinn," she groans when teeth sink into the skin over her collarbone. "I swear, if you leave a mark, I'll - "
Quinn bites down a little harder.
"Oh, my God," Rachel gasps.
"You'll what?" Quinn asks, sounding so infuriatingly smug.
Rachel's fingers grip at her hair and she drags her head back up. "Shut up," she hisses; "and kiss me."
Quinn has always been rather good at doing what she's told.
Rachel can barely look her fathers in the eye when she and Quinn finally show up at their house almost an hour later. She's aware she must look a sight, dress wrinkled and hair ruffled. Her lips feel swollen and her skin is still flushed.
She's also sure she's going to have a litany of bruises on her breasts by the time she gets home.
Quinn, on the other hand, looks very, very pleased with herself. It isn't anything obvious, but there's this glint in her eye that is unmistakable to Rachel.
"Did you two have a good evening?" Hiram asks as they all stand in the entrance hall.
Quinn nods. "It was great," she says. "I didn't know Lima had such talent."
"Did you manage to convince Rachel to sing?"
Quinn arches an eyebrow. "Oh, she sang, all right," she says, a little sly, and Rachel wants to bury her face in her hands.
LeRoy chuckles a little knowingly. "She is our superstar," he says.
"It seems almost unfair that we get to keep her all to ourselves," Quinn says, almost offhandedly, and the three members of the Berry family shift awkwardly.
Maybe this isn't the moment Rachel falls in love with Quinn, but it's something close.
It's almost inexplicable the way Rachel blushes the next time she sees Quinn just two days later. She just can't help it, given whom they are to each other now.
Well.
There aren't any defined labels for their relationship, and Rachel can't think of Quinn as her 'girlfriend' without feeling a little juvenile. She's not some teenager in some all-consuming new relationship. She's a mother, for goodness' sake, and they're building some kind of partnership.
And, yet, she feels giddy and light and so stupidly childish the second Quinn comes through the door of her house with a Marvel SnapBack on her head and a smile so wide that Rachel wonders if it hurts.
She's also wearing those stupid denim shorts and a white tank top, which really means Rachel can see the outline of her white bra that has red kisses all over it.
Rachel is definitely not okay, and Quinn is obviously enjoying this far too much.
Quinn does something she's never done before and actually hugs Rachel. It's a quick one, just a 'hello,' which is followed by another hug from Lex.
The Fabray family piles into her house as if they belong, and Rachel wouldn't have it any other way.
"Who's hungry?" Quinn asks, her voice just a little too loud.
Hugo bounds up to her, even as Lex stays near Rachel, his left hand loosely holding the fabric of her pants. "Chef Hugo, reporting for duty," he says, which makes Quinn laugh.
She looks at her son. "Are you joining us, young apprentice?"
Lex shakes his head. "Miraculous Ladybug is on," he says, and then looks up at Rachel with those searching, deadly eyes. "Please can I watch TV?"
Rachel melts. Right into a puddle. Lex is so dangerous. Rachel looks at Quinn for some help, but she just winks at her, and then shuffles Hugo towards the kitchen, letting her make the decision all by herself. It's too much pressure.
"Please," Lex adds a moment later, and there is no humane way to say no.
She rests a hand on his back, gently guiding him into the living room. It feels so easy, just getting him settled into her space; into her home, like he just fits. And, really, he does. It's so stupidly adorable the way he removes his shoes and lays them in the corner of the room. He looks a little sheepish when he returns, and Rachel just hands him the remote.
"Will you watch Max?" she asks him.
"Of course," he says, as if it's the simplest thing in the world. "Maybe today will be the day we finally get a step out of him."
"Maybe," she quietly agrees, watching her baby boy moving around on his mat in front of the television.
"Crossing fingers," Lex says, beaming, and then turns his attention away from her, settling himself on the couch and tucking his feet under his body.
Rachel watches him for a moment, feeling her heart expand in her chest, and then leaves him to it, wanting him to feel comfortable, which is difficult to accomplish with some woman just staring at you.
Well.
Rachel's observing tendencies just find another target once she finds herself in the kitchen. Quinn and Hugo have made significant progress by the time she settles on one of the stools and does her best not to stare at the wonder that is Quinn Fabray in her element.
Rachel has spent quite a bit of time observing her friends and partners with their own children, and then with hers. There's usually some kind of difference, which is definitely expected, but Quinn seems as comfortable with Hugo as she is with Lex, treating them both as if they're their own people.
There are times that Quinn glances at her, as if she's making sure she's not overstepping, but Rachel just finds it all so fascinating. Watching Quinn interact with her son is everything she's ever wanted in a partner. Brody couldn't do it, and Finn doesn't even compare.
Quinn is literally cooking dinner for their families in her kitchen.
Their family.
Where in the world has this woman been her entire life? What has Rachel done to deserve her at all, let alone now?
Quinn grins at her when Hugo pulls a face at the lemon wedge he's just stuck in his mouth. "Check your kid," she says, rolling her eyes. "Thinking he's so cool."
"I am cool," Hugo defends, opening and closing his mouth to dispel the sour taste on his tongue.
Quinn just laughs as she drops a kiss onto the top of his head. "Squeeze that juice in there, Bud," she says. "We'll discuss just how cool you are when you can get through an entire day without needing a nap."
Rachel raises her hand as if she's in a classroom. "Uh, I'm pretty sure you can't get through a whole day without catching a nap."
Quinn sticks out her tongue at her. "Well, nobody asked you."
Rachel just grins at her, looking inexplicably happy. She feels it, too, knowing that some of the most important people in her life are currently in this house. There's just so much love in her heart, and -
"Mom!" Lex suddenly yells from the living room. "Rachel! Hugo! Mom!"
Quinn takes off and is out of the room before Rachel can even get off her stool. She stumbles over her own feet in her haste, unsure what to expect when she almost falls over as she enters the living room.
Quinn catches her before she can hit the ground, saying, "Look."
Rachel looks.
Max is standing on the carpet, his feet steady, and far away from any kind of support. His arms are in front of him, his face twisted in concentration.
Rachel holds her breath, watching in absolute wonder as Max takes a shaky step forward, and then another and another.
Before losing his balance and dropping onto his bottom.
They all cheer.
Lex drops to his knees to wrap Max in a hug, and Hugo collapses on both of them, so much laughter in the air.
Rachel feels tears spring to her eyes, because this is a gigantic milestone for her son and Quinn is here for it.
Quinn, who looks as emotional as she feels.
Quinn, who reaches for her hand and pulls her closer and right into a hug, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around before setting her on the ground again.
Rachel chances a look at their boys, sees that they're occupied, and then risks a kiss against Quinn's cheek.
It's possibly the best day of her life.