X
Rachel is doing laundry when she gets the call. She still has a few hours before she has to pick up Hugo from Brittany and Santana's house, but there's something about the sound of her phone that sets her on edge.
With Max at her parents' - the boys conveniently separated, she thinks bitterly - she has a full day of chores planned before she and her boys are expected over at Quinn's for a bit of a barbecue.
For a moment, Rachel wonders if Quinn is calling to cancel, which is a thought that's expounded when she spies Quinn's name and picture on her phone's Caller ID.
Still, she's smiling when she answers, "Hello, you," as she drops herself onto the couch, only to get the shock of her life when it's not Quinn on the other end of the line.
"Rachel?"
She sits upright immediately, hearing something a little shaky in Lex's voice. "Lex, hi," she says. "Is everything okay?"
"I think so," he says.
"Did something happen?"
"Mommy was stung by a bee," he says, sounding entirely too calm for the words he's saying. "I think I got the EpiPen to her in time, but she's passed out right now."
Rachel is convinced she hasn't heard correctly. There's no way Lex would be so calm about something like that, right? She's imagining this phone call.
"Rachel?"
She snaps to attention. "Lex?"
"What do I do if she doesn't wake up?"
Rachel has never driven so fast in her life.
It helps that she and Quinn don't live too far away from each other, but Rachel still breaks every road law in existence. Stop signs? For whom?
She's not entirely sure what she'll be walking into when she gets to Quinn's house, but it's eerily quiet and calm when she pushes open the unlocked front door. "Lex?" she calls out.
"In here," he calls back, and she follows his voice into the front room, finding him sitting hunched over on the coffee table, his eyes trained on Quinn's prone form on the couch.
The scene hits Rachel square in the chest and her steps falter. Lex looks over at her for a beat, and then he's scrambling to his feet and running to her. She braces herself for impact, and lets out a soft oomph when his arms wrap around her.
She gently rubs his back, soothing him. She's not really sure what she's supposed to be doing right now.
"She's just sleeping it off," Rachel finds herself saying, hoping she's right. Right? Fainting is a symptom of anaphylactic shock, right? Quinn will wake up soon, and it'll all just be a thing.
Except, well, Rachel is definitely going to be giving Quinn a piece of her mind. This is not okay. None of this is okay.
"I'm glad you called me," Rachel tells Lex. "Has this happened before?"
"One time," he answers, refusing to break their hug.
Rachel guides them to one of the armchairs, sitting and pulling him into her lap. Her heart is beating rapidly, and she's trying not to stare at Quinn's pale skin. Should they be going to the hospital? Should she be calling for an ambulance? Should she be putting some kind of ointment on the bee sting she can so clearly see blooming on the inside of Quinn's forearm?
Lex snuggles into her body, and she keeps her arms wrapped around him. "It was bad that time," he mumbles. "The EpiPen didn't work the way she sais, and my hand was too small, and she made me call nine-one-one before she passed out."
"But you were on time this time," Rachel states, even though it's more of a question.
"I was," he says, his voice a little clearer. "I was."
"Then it's going to be fine," Rachel assures him, kissing his hair.
"Promise?" he asks, and there's something so heavy in the way he asks this of her.
Rachel audibly swallows, and then says, "I promise, Baby Shark."
Quinn comes to almost fifteen minutes later, and Rachel is in the makeshift kitchen pouring glasses of juice for all three of them.
"Mommy!" Lex suddenly shrieks, and Rachel abandons her task to race into the front room, her own heart stuttering at the sight of Quinn's open eyes and Lex's clutching onto her.
Quinn startles when she sees her, and then sighs in relief. "You're here," she murmurs, rubbing Lex's back. "Hi."
Rachel takes slow steps towards her. "Lex called me," she says.
"How long have I been out?"
"Maybe half an hour," Rachel answers, her eyes trailing over Quinn's body, assessing it. "How are you feeling?"
Quinn glances down where Lex has buried his face in the crook of her neck, and then up at Rachel. She looks exhausted, and Rachel reads the fact she's not answering as response enough.
Rachel walks towards her, fingers reaching out to touch her face, her hair, her. "Hi," she whispers.
Quinn turns her head and kisses Rachel's fingers. Sorry, she mouths, only for Rachel to see.
Rachel bends to kiss her forehead. "Do you want some juice?" she asks.
"Coffee, actually," Quinn says. "My, uh, lungs need the caffeine."
Rachel's fingers pinch Quinn's ear, and she yelps.
"What was that for?"
Rachel just shakes her head, and then walks out of the room, needing some space. Jesus. Rachel didn't wake up this morning expecting this rollercoaster of a day. Her... Quinn passed out, and now what else is going to happen?
She spends an obscene amount of time making Quinn's coffee that Quinn actually comes to find her, stumbling a little. She still looks a little pale, but her eyes are focused and there's a white wrap around her forearm.
"Does it hurt?" is the first thing Rachel asks when she sets Quinn's coffee on the dining room table.
"No," Quinn answers, her left eye twitching, and Rachel frowns. "A little."
Rachel steps back.
"Thank you for this," she says, lifting her coffee cup and breathing it in. "Where are the boys?" she asks, taking a sip.
"Hugo's with his godmother, and Max is with my parents," she answers, unable to look at Quinn.
Quinn sighs. "They didn't want both, huh?"
Rachel shrugs. "I figured Hugo shouldn't have to deal with my own drama with my friends, you know," she says. "I mean, we've missed bowling and our monthly dinner already, and I haven't even confirmed that Finn and I are never ever going to be speaking again."
Quinn leans against the dining room table. "I'm sorry," she says.
"The fact I can't bring myself to talk to my friends isn't your fault, Quinn," she says.
"That's not what I'm apologising for," Quinn says.
"Oh." Rachel finally looks at her. "Are we talking about this?"
Quinn shrugs. "I get the feeling there are things you'd like to say to me."
"That's a given," Rachel says, tense.
Quinn runs a hand through her hair, hesitant. "Look, I can't tell you how much I appreciate your coming - "
"Shut up," Rachel suddenly says, not even willing to listen to whatever Quinn thinks she needs to say in this moment. "Just shut up."
Quinn says nothing, just watching as Rachel wrings her fingers in front of her.
"You are an idiot," Rachel says. "You need to be more careful, dammit. You know you're allergic to bees, and you were what, huh, what the hell were you even doing?"
Quinn opens her mouth, as if to reply, but Rachel keeps her quiet with a sharp look.
"What is wrong with you?" Rachel asks. "Why would - you have to pay better attention. It's just you and Lex here. What if - God, what if something worse happened, huh? What then? You can prepare Lex all you want, but - but - did you - did you see what you looked like? He asked me what happens if you don't wake up, Quinn! What - what do I even say to that? I don't know. I don't know what happens if you're - I can't even - "
Quinn closes the space between them and pulls her into a tight hug, holding her as she works through her emotions. There are tears in her eyes that she's determined not to let fall.
"Don't do that to me again," Rachel forces out, her face pressed against Quinn's chest. "Don't you dare."
Quinn doesn't speak, and Rachel thinks it's the smartest thing she's ever done. Rachel just keeps ahold of her, her fists clutching Quinn's shirt.
This is the moment Rachel is certain she's in love with Quinn. She's known, sure; even felt it growing for quite some time, but this is the moment she knows for sure this is the woman she's likely going to love for a very long time.
Possibly even forever.
Rachel's terrified she's going to end up saying the words, so she kisses Quinn instead. It's a searching kiss, passionate in its own way. She pushes at Quinn, forcing her back until she hits the wall, hearing her let out a soft sound of complaint.
Which quickly turns into a moan when Rachel licks into her mouth and touches her front with such confidence.
"God, yes," Quinn breathes the moment Rachel's hands slide under her shirt, fingers cool on her skin.
"Baby," Rachel breathes. "I want - "
"What?" Quinn asks, panting. "What do you - "
They both startle at the sound Quinn's phone ringing somewhere in the front room. It's maybe a blessing, because just what were they about to do?
"I should - uh - " Quinn says, pointing somewhere over her shoulder. "I'll be - "
Rachel lets her go, taking a moment to compose herself, but startling when she hears Quinn says, "Hugo, what's wrong?" from the other room.
Rachel rushes into the room, her eyes wide. Quinn turns towards her then, looking confused.
"Hold on, Bud," she says. "Here's your mom."
Rachel takes the phone the moment Quinn hands it to her, heart pounding and stomach churning. "Hugo," she says, pressing the phone to her ear.
"Mommy," he croaks, his voice cracking.
"Baby, what is it?"
"Mommy," Hugo says again, his voice a little tinny now. "Can you please come get me?"
Rachel blinks once, twice, and then straightens her spine. "Sure, Honey," she says. "Is everything okay?"
He sniffles. "Please can you just come get me."
"Okay, baby, I'm coming," she says. "Mommy's coming."
Quinn is looking at her with concern when Rachel drops the phone. "What's wrong?" she asks.
"He wants me to fetch him," she says, frowning. "I don't know - "
"You should go," Quinn says.
Rachel nods. "Yeah, yeah, I'm going," she says. "I - um, are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Quinn says, stepping into her space. "We're fine here. Take a breath, go fetch your kid, and your other kid, and then come back here, okay?"
Rachel just keeps nodding.
Quinn kisses her forehead. "I would fetch Maxi myself, but I don't think I should be driving right now."
Rachel takes a deep breath. "It sounded like he was crying," she whispers.
"Maybe he was," Quinn says; "but he's strong, and he called, and now you have to go and pick him up."
"I - I think I might be about to break up with my best friend," she says.
Quinn sighs. "Baby, it doesn't have to be that dramatic, okay? I'm the thorn in their side. It's their fault for bringing your son into it."
Rachel takes another deep breath. "Okay," she says. "Okay."
And, then, for the second time in what was supposed to be a lazy day, Rachel breaks all the road rules, her panic somewhere locked away as she forces herself to focus.
Santana and Brittany live a little further away, and Rachel sometimes hates making the drive. She did absolutely no driving in New York, so it's not her favourite thing in the world. Unlike Quinn, who seemingly loves being behind the wheel.
Rachel gets to the house twelve minutes later, pulling into the driveway and unsure how to feel about the situation she's surely about to walk into. She's managed to put whatever disjoint she's currently having with her best friends aside to allow her son to spend time with his godmother, and now Hugo is in tears.
Rachel is not okay with that.
Brittany's the one to answer the door when Rachel rings the doorbell, a look of surprise on her face. "Rachel?" she squeaks, looking genuinely surprised to see her. "What are you doing here?"
"Where's Hugo?" Rachel immediately asks, ignoring her question.
"Uh, is everything okay?"
"Where is he?" she asks again.
"Santana took him for ice-cream," Brittany finally says. "Now, do you want to tell me what's got you so worked up?"
Rachel feels ice cold. "How long ago was this?"
"About forty-five minutes," Brittany answers. "Why? What's wrong?"
"What's wrong is my baby boy just called me in tears and asked me to pick him up," she snaps. "Call Santana. Get her to bring him back."
Brittany's facial expression shifts. "I told her not to bring it up."
"Bring what up?"
Brittany sighs heavily as she steps back, turns and disappears into the house. Rachel's petulance and stubbornness keeps her standing at the door. Her friends feel like strangers to her, as if she's been wearing a pair of certain-coloured glasses to see all the good things and ignore the bad.
The bad.
She didn't even realise there was anything manipulative or degrading about having friends who seem so intent on pointing out her failures until Quinn took up position in her corner and told her she's actually been doing great, given the circumstances.
So, here she is, now, trying to figure out the best way to deal with this situation. It's comforting just knowing Quinn is waiting for her, ready to help her deal with whatever aftermath they'll be faced with once Hugo is back in her charge. She feels silly for thinking Santana wouldn't do something like this.
Of course, she would. She's a woman who's very good at holding a grudge, and Rachel doesn't even think informing her about their romantic relationship would change her opinions on Quinn.
That isn't even Rachel's job.
Rachel plonks herself on the front steps to wait, fidgeting nervously as she waits for Hugo. She's tempted to text Quinn an update or just to get some extra moral support, but Brittany comes back to the door before she can.
"They're already on their way back," the blonde says, and Rachel isn't sure how to feel about this particular woman in this moment.
"What did Santana say to my son?" she asks, needing to be prepared for the upcoming situation.
"I'm not entirely sure," Brittany explains, standing just behind where Rachel remains seated. "But, Noah was here for dinner last night and he was ranting quite incessantly about a bit of trouble he's run into regarding Quinn and their contract that may or may not be putting his license to operate in jeopardy."
Rachel turns her head to look at her. "I don't know what that has to do with my son."
"Hugo mentioned you've been spending time with Quinn," Brittany says, her voice infuriatingly airy.
"I'm still not seeing the connection."
"You've been spending time with someone who isn't San," Brittany says. "She's convinced you're replacing her, and she doesn't handle those feelings very well."
"We're almost thirty years old, Brittany," Rachel says, frowning. "And, seriously, you still haven't told me what any of this has to do with Hugo."
Brittany sighs. "You're not the only one who's replacing her."
Okay.
Rachel can perhaps sympathise with that, because she knows she also went a little crazy when Hugo seemed to be more interested in talking to Quinn than talking to her. It was hard. It still is, sometimes, but she's come to enjoy it. Quinn is someone Hugo trusts to keep him safe and protect him. Why wouldn't Rachel want that for her son?
The manifestation of Rachel's confusion regarding her own feelings for Quinn resulted in a blowup with Quinn. She made a point not to drag Hugo into it, and there is the difference between her and Santana. Between Quinn and Santana.
The sound of tyres on the driveway catches her attention, and she gets to her feet at the sight of Santana's car pulling in. She can see Hugo sitting sullenly in the backseat, his arms crossed over his chest, his head bowed, and her heart cracks at the sight.
Rachel looks at Brittany. "It's not good enough," she says, and then takes off towards the car, reaching it just as it comes to a complete stop. She opens the door for Hugo, watching as he unbuckles his seatbelt and almost falls out of the car. He's hugging her a beat later, arms tight around her waist, and she smooths a hand over his hair.
"You came," he mumbles.
"Of course, Sweetheart," she assures him, holding him just that bit longer, and then hands him her car keys. "Can you go wait in the car for me?" she asks. "Then we'll go get Max and head to Quinn's, okay?"
Hugo hesitates for a moment.
"I'm right behind you," Rachel assures him. "I won't be long, I promise."
Hugo holds on for only a moment more, and then he's turning and walking towards her car that's parked in front of the house, ready and waiting to take them as far away from this place as Rachel knows they need to be.
Rachel waits until he's completely out of earshot before she even looks at Santana, who is now standing at her door, her expression unreadable.
"I didn't think he would actually call you," Santana says, and Rachel's eyes narrow, because that's really not the line she wants to be leading with right now.
"He didn't," Rachel says, which is the truth. "He called Quinn."
Santana's facial expression shifts into something resembling a scowl. "What has that woman done to him?" she asks, her tone harsh. "You have to stop letting him spend time with her, Rachel. You saw how he acted after their first meeting. She's obviously poisoning him against us."
Rachel feels indignant on Quinn's behalf, angry and affronted. Santana doesn't even know her. She's just made all these judgments about her based on nothing, and Rachel is sick and tired of Santana telling her what to do when the way she parents her sons has nothing to do with the Latina.
Santana stares at her with wide eyes when Rachel ends up saying those exact words out loud. It really has very little to do with Quinn in this moment, because Santana has undermined her parenting countless times, and the fact she's made Hugo cry in the process this time is the final straw.
"I know why now, but I accepted it all whenever you talked badly about Brody and Finn, and even that one guy I deigned to date in New York, Robert, but - but this ends now. It's not going to happen with Quinn, and it's definitely not going to happen in front of Hugo."
Santana glares at her. "I don't even get what the big deal is," she says, looking genuinely confused. "It's not as if you're dating her." Then she laughs, as if it's the most preposterous thing in the world.
Rachel doesn't fully react. "That shouldn't matter," she says, because she's definitely not outing herself right now. Out of everyone she needs to know about her new relationship, Hugo is the priority. "Quinn is important to me, and to Hugo, so you need to stop." She pauses. "Dammit, Santana, you made him cry."
Santana seems to sober at the reminder. "It wasn't intentional," she says, her voice low. "I just - I don't understand what he sees in her."
And maybe Rachel is being selfish in this moment. A coward, perhaps, because what Hugo sees in Quinn is someone who will protect him, in a way Santana hasn't, and Rachel can't bring herself to tell her that Finn is an asshole who's laid some kind of hand on her sons and made them feel small.
Rachel can't tell if she's withholding to protect Finn, or to protect herself. Because, regardless of what Quinn says, Rachel chose Finn, and she would just be proving all her friends right that she can't be trusted to make those kind of decisions when it comes to her sons and her partners.
No.
Okay.
She needs to get out of here.
Rachel clears her throat, suddenly needing to see Quinn in this moment. Right now. "I don't care if it was intentional or not," she finally says, eyes hard. "Whatever you said made my son cry, for God's sake. Is that the person you want to be to him? Because, regardless of your thoughts about Quinn, if you can't control yourself around him, you won't see him."
Santana's demeanour shifts, turning hostile. "Oh, I see," she says entirely too calmly, and Rachel must have touched a nerve. "You'd let him hang out with a bloody kidnapper, but keep him away from me, huh?"
Rachel sighs. "Do you think that's what I want to do?" she asks, rhetorical and exhausted. "And Quinn isn't a fucking kidnapper. Which you would know if you would just - "
"No," Santana says, firm. "No fucking way."
Rachel shakes her head. "Then, fine, be on the outs with your godson because you're too damn stubborn to try to get to know this person who's become important to him." There's maybe more she wants to say, but she's not sure she can get it all out and have it actually make sense.
She steps back. "Get it together, Santana," she says rather pointedly. "Because, at this point, whatever decision I make regarding you and Hugo is moot. I won't force him to spend time with you if he doesn't want to."
Santana's jaw clenches. "Oh, so, what, now you're just down another babysitter, huh? Without us, and Puck and Finn apparently on the outs as well, who do you have left, huh?"
Quinn, Rachel's mouth wants to say, but there's an odd wave of emotion that settles over her before she can get the word out. It feels heavy and oddly isolating, because, really, who does she have left? Is it wise to be alienating all the people she's relied on in the past?
She's been forced to rely on.
She's believed she had to.
Is Quinn just becoming someone falling into that category? Is - is it worth it to swap all her friends out for one person, if that is even what she's doing?
One person, whom she's just now accepted that she loves. Wants to be with in all those terrifying, wonderful ways. One person, who makes the last few years seem worth it. One person, whose mere existence has altered the entire makeup of her life.
The answer is pretty simple.
Rachel straightens her spine and squares her shoulders. There are other words to say, but she's not willing to say them. Not today. Maybe not ever.
So, she just turns around and walks away. She can hear Santana let out a huff and grumble something under her breath, but Rachel keeps walking. Towards Hugo and Quinn, and away from Santana.
Well.
Hugo is sitting dutifully in the backseat, his eyes glued to her as she walks towards him. She smiles as assuredly as she can, and he seems to relax at the sight of it. At least.
She doesn't feel at all calm, though, as she gets to the car and finds her keys on her seat. She smiles softly as she gets in and settles, her hand turning the ignition. Her heart is still racing when she finally pulls away from the curb, and it steadily slows the further they get from Santana and Brittany.
The closer they get to Quinn.
She glances at Hugo in the rearview mirror, taking in his sullen expression and red eyes. Her baby. Gosh. This has been quite the summer, hasn't it?
"Hugo," she says, getting his attention. "Sweetheart, do you want to talk about it?"
Hugo turns his head to look at her, blinking a few times. "Not really," he says, and his voice sounds small enough that it suddenly matches his body.
"Are you sure?"
He nods. Then: "Why were you with Quinn?"
She tenses. "Excuse me?"
"I called Quinn," he points out. "You were with her."
"Right," she breathes, unsure if he'll react badly to the idea of them being together without him. "Uh, well, Quinn was actually stung by a bee," she explains. "She's allergic."
Hugo straightens instantly, his eyes widening in panic. "Is she okay?"
"She's fine," she assures him. "Lex was just a little shook up, so you'll have to be extra nice to him today."
"I'm always nice," he pouts.
"I know you are, baby," she says, smiling at his indignant expression.
Hugo falls silent, his expression shifting into something thoughtful. "Mommy," he eventually says.
"Yes, Hugo?"
"You came," he says.
Rachel's brow furrows, because that's the second time he's said that. "Of course, I did."
Hugo says nothing more about it, and Rachel is left to wonder why she suddenly feels as if she's passed some unseen test. She's felt as if she's been failing him for so long that this new emotion is unexpected, but still welcomed.
She's going to give him an extra tight hug when they get out of the car. And pepper his face with kisses until he's squirming. Yip. Exactly that.
Rachel first stops off at home to move her laundry she left in the washer over to the dryer, because she basically tore out of here without a second thought earlier. She also needs to lock up properly, if they're going to be out of the house until much later.
She texts her fathers that she's going to be picking up Max earlier than initially planned, and then packs an extra set of clothes for herself and Hugo, Max already always kitted out with his diaper bag. Hugo packs some DVDs, extra pyjamas and the clothes from Lex he's borrowed in the past.
Eventually, they're ready to go, and Rachel drives them straight to her parents' house. It's intended to be a short visit, but, apparently, nothing is sacred and Santana and Brittany have since informed her fathers of the particularly hairy situation in which they all find themselves.
Hugo takes one look at their faces, sighs so heavily that it's a surprise he doesn't actually deflate, and then stalks into the living room to watch television with Max while the adults talk. For some reason, the entire sequence of actions reminds her of Quinn, which is all kinds of weird, but still so, so lovely.
Hiram leads her into the kitchen where the three of them take a seat at the table. She's a little antsy to get back to Quinn, and a lot annoyed at Santana for trying to use her own fathers against her. That's just low and entirely unnecessary.
But oddly expected.
"Sweetheart," Hiram starts; "just what is going on?"
Rachel says nothing, turning over a possible response in her head.
"Should we be concerned about Santana's worries regarding Quinn?" LeRoy ventures.
Rachel raises her eyebrows. "And what worries does Santana have about Quinn, huh?" she asks. "Because, honestly, I don't know where she gets off having 'concerns' when she hasn't even met her before."
They both just stare at her.
"You have," she points out. "And, from what you've seen of her already, do you have your own concerns?"
"No."
"Then, I don't see what the problem is," she says. "I like her, okay? I like her a lot, and I haven't been able to tell anyone about it, so I just need you, as my parents, to accept that I know what I'm doing when it comes to Quinn." She pauses. "I'm well aware that I've had a spotty dating history, thank you very much, so I really don't need anyone else to point it out, but this is different. She is different, and, yes, I'm still trying to wrap my head around a lot of things when it comes to being with her, so can everybody please just let me?"
The silence that follows is long and slightly uncomfortable.
Rachel sits, her mind on Quinn and the repeated words of whenever you're ready. She's the only person who seems to be patient enough with Rachel, and that means something.
It means everything.
LeRoy eventually clears his throat and says, "Okay, Honey."
She sighs in relief.
"I think… we should definitely have them over for a barbecue one of these days," Hiram suggests, already looking as if he's planning the entire thing. "We can get to know her properly."
Rachel rolls her eyes. "You just want to interrogate her."
Hiram exaggerates a gasp. "I resent that accusation," he says. "I don't think it's wildly out of the ordinary for a father to want to be familiar with his daughter's significant other."
"Oh, my God."
Hiram beams at her. "This is exciting, Rachel," he says. "This is someone you're dating whom we can actually stand."
Rachel winces, because there it is again: the casual way her dating choices are spoken about, right in front of her. She can almost guess the way they go on when she's not around; all her choices a free-for-all topic of discussion among her friends and fathers.
Well.
"Sure, Dad," she says. "I'll talk to her about it."
It takes another few minutes, but she's finally able to get her sons and leave. She's not entirely sure what she's feeling, but there's a lot of relief in finally pulling into Quinn's driveway and seeing her open the front door for them.
Hugo goes running, and Rachel suspects both Lex and Hugo are going to be a little Quinn-focused today. At least she's looking less pale, her mouth pulled into a smile and her eyes a little brighter.
Wow.
Rachel is so, so in love.
Which is just multiplied as she approaches the front door behind Hugo with Max in tow and hears Quinn say, "Hey, Kid," as she draws him into a brief hug. "You okay?"
Hugo nods, pressing his face into her abdomen.
Quinn bends to kiss the top of his head. "You did good, you know?"
Hugo looks up at her, frowning in confusion. "I did?"
"You memorised my number."
The grin Hugo aims at her is blinding, and Rachel is reminded why all her answers have been so simple.
Quinn's working a grill is something Rachel didn't even know she needed in her life until it's right in front of her. There's a certain confidence about her, the way she flips patties and chars corn on the cob. She's smiling and present and making a little game of keeping Max away from the heated metal.
Rachel sits on the deck and watches her family.
Her family.
Lex and Hugo are on the lawn with Sasha, the three of them marvelling at the few fireflies they can see and looking up at the emerging stars in the dusk light.
This is her life. This is what Rachel gets now: these people whom she gets to love with all her heart. She wouldn't exchange them for anything, and she sure as hell won't allow people to make her second-guess this family she's found.
She loves them. Adores them with every fibre of her being. She wants nothing more than this existence. Nothing about Lima has felt like enough, but this comes close.
She still has decisions to make about her career, but she's able and willing to put it all off while she enjoys the rest of the summer months. When the time comes, she'll make the right choice. Because she does have Quinn, and that is very important.
"Hey, Raspberry," Quinn suddenly calls out; "think you can distract your son before he ends up burning his fingers, and I can finish up here?"
Rachel smiles to herself as she gets to her feet and crosses over to where Max is being a giggling fiend. She's sorely tempted to kiss Quinn's cheek, but she resists and rather plants one on Max when she scoops him up.
She'll kiss Quinn later.
Later.
When the boys have fallen asleep watching Cars in the living room, and the two of them have escaped to the backyard the way they did the first evening they ever spent together. This time, though, they share the swing, sitting indecently close to each other.
They're talking, because Rachel has never felt more comfortable with anyone else just being able to do so. Quinn is always present, making sure to hear her, and Rachel appreciates every moment of it.
"I guess I'm sorry my friends seem to hate you," Rachel says, glancing away. "You haven't even done anything."
Quinn sighs, leaning back slightly and using her legs to move them steadily. "I'm pretty sure they wouldn't agree with you."
"You saved my boys from Finn," she says; "and you're just holding your ground against Noah. You've done nothing wrong."
Quinn takes hold of her right hand, loosely linking their fingers. "Maybe this doesn't particularly bode well for our future, but you should know that I honestly don't give a shit what your friends think of me."
Rachel lets out an unexpected laugh. "Quinn," she snorts.
"I'm serious," Quinn says, undeterred. "I care only about you, and your sons. And probably your parents, I guess. But mainly you and your boys. That's it."
Rachel turns her head to look at her, expression serious. "We can't be your every part of Lima," she says.
"No, you can't," Quinn agrees. "But you're always going to be the most important."
Rachel kisses her, just once.
"I can make more friends," Quinn says. "Other, different friends. None of that even matters to me, because it's not a priority the way you and the boys are."
Rachel sighs a little dreamily. "It amazes me, sometimes, just how put together you are."
Quinn shakes her head. "I wish you wouldn't think that about me, because I'm definitely not," she says, squeezing Rachel's fingers. "I'm a work in progress, just like the rest of the world. I just - I've had more time being this person I get to be than you've had to be this you, and that's all it is. That's all."
Rachel kisses her again, her right hand cupping the back of her neck and her fingers playing with the little hairs she finds there. Quinn moans into her mouth, their lips sliding together so deliciously that Rachel wants to crawl into her lap and live there, so she attempts to.
She's just straddled Quinn's legs when Quinn pulls back quite suddenly and says, "I need you to know something." Her hands slide over Rachel's back. "Baby, I need you to know."
"What?" she asks, a little breathless. "God, what?"
"I want you," Quinn says. "I want you."
Rachel blinks, so caught off guard by the vehemence in her voice. "What?"
Quinn breathes out. "This isn't some fling for me," she says. "Believe me, I've had them, but this isn't that. It's more than that."
"It's more than that," she echoes, a little bewildered.
Quinn leans back against the swing's cushions and looks as if she's trying to put her thoughts into words. "I don't know if this is something you need to hear, but I still need to say this to you, okay?"
Rachel holds Quinn's head in her hands, keeping her eyes focused on Quinn's. "I'm listening," she says, because this seems important to Quinn.
"We've never really spoken about my relationships," she says. "I don't really count anything from before Baby was born, because I was a right mess for a lot of that time. There were insignificant boys that my parents expected me to date, so I did. It was only in college when I was away from them that I could really… explore… whatever I spent years fighting against."
Rachel sits perfectly still, listening intently.
"When I met Patrick, I wasn't quite ready to accept that I liked girls," Quinn explains "I mean, I had an idea, but I hid from it by starting something else considered taboo. He was older and charming and… my professor."
Rachel's eyes widen slightly, but she says nothing.
"It was intense and went on for only ten weeks," Quinn says. "I knew it wouldn't last. It was just one of those things I did in reaction to… not wanting to be gay, I guess." She sighs. "When I found out I was pregnant, it was one of those moments when you're convinced the Universe is just saying one monumental fuck you, and it was so much worse when I worked up the courage to tell him.
"I can't tell you what I was expecting, but he went into a full panic, and started talking about his wife, and I've never - I've literally never felt so - so…" she trails off, and Rachel suddenly feels sick. "I can't even explain it," Quinn eventually says.
The silence that stretches between them is heavy, and Rachel drops her gaze, unable to maintain eye contact.
"I felt so dirty," Quinn says. "I understood it was an affair we had to keep hidden, because he was a professor and I was a student, but I never allowed myself to think the reason he made sure it was all such a secret was because we were hiding from his wife. It was so…" she trails off again. "I've been used by people before, but there was something so deeply traumatic about realising I was the other woman, and that I didn't even know it. It didn't matter that I didn't love him - which, in hindsight, would have been so much worse - but it hurt all the same. To know he'd known just how wrong it all was and still - "
Rachel closes her eyes, and wraps her arms around Quinn's neck, hugging her close.
"It all fell apart quite quickly after that," Quinn mumbles against Rachel's collarbone. "He wanted nothing to do with me or the baby, so we had a lawyer draw up the necessary documents to ensure Baby Shark would be mine and mine alone. I didn't want anything to do with him, either. I didn't want his hush money or his guilt. I mean, the bastard even wanted me to put in a clause that I wouldn't ever tell his wife." She growls low in her chest, and Rachel just holds her tighter.
Quinn eventually sighs, her body relaxing slightly. "He was a fling, and, fuck, flings can hurt," she says. "You are not a fling. I know this is going to last. I want it to, and I've never wanted anything as much as I want this. I want you."
Rachel would ask about after Lex was born, but she thinks that might be a conversation for another night.
When Quinn isn't this emotional.
And Rachel isn't this conflicted.
Rachel lies awake for hours.
She feels awful and guilty, and she just knows this is all going to blow up in her face. The thing she clings to is that she didn't lie. She just didn't offer up unimportant information.
And it is unimportant.
Her relationship with Brody is over. It's been over for more than a year now. Longer maybe, because she's sure they really started falling apart when she told him she was pregnant with Max. A lot of their relationship was obligation, sure, and Rachel has always felt it was her responsibility to her children to make it work with their father.
Until she just didn't.
Selfishly, she put herself first, ended things and moved back to Lima. Brody had little to say to that, letting her leave with little fanfare, so long as he got to live in the apartment she purchased with her first royalties.
An apartment he's apparently moving out of. An apartment he thinks he has the right to sell. He's in for the shock of his life when she finally figures out a time to get out to New York and inform him just what he deserves.
Well, he's in for more than that, because he's being putting off a hell of a lot for far too long, and now Rachel has legitimate reasons to force him into action. Her sons are finally getting some kind of stability, and she finally has somebody like Quinn in her life, who is all kinds of perfect that Rachel can't imagine being with anyone else.
Rachel can't sleep. Not like this. She reaches for her phone, acknowledges it's as late as it is, but still drafts and sends a very particular email to her lawyer.
It's time.
It's been time for a long, long while now.
You mentioned paintball? Is that something you're still interested in?
Obviously, they can't take Max on such an adventure, which is why Rachel organises with Marley for her to babysit. The teenager's been a casual babysitter for her, more so during the school year, given her full-time job at the diner during the summer months.
Max adores her, and Rachel is rather fond of her, as well. She's good with children, always so intent on singing to them, which makes Rachel inexplicably happy, because it would break her heart if her kids ended up not liking music.
Rachel also gets the feeling Marley knows what's really going on between her and Quinn, and there's a certain comfort she finds in that information. She trusts Marley, which is half the battle already.
Finding people to trust with her children hasn't been easy, and, after the debacle that was everything involving Finn Hudson, Rachel thinks she's going to have to be extra careful.
So, Marley comes over to her house, ready to spend the afternoon with just Max, and it takes Rachel until Quinn and Lex arrive to pick up her and Hugo to settle enough to be comfortable enough with leaving.
It's okay.
Everything's going to be okay.
Quinn's relaxed demeanour and the boys' excitement all help her settle even further, and the four of them sing along to the radio at the tops of their lungs as Quinn drives them to the paintball arena situated just outside the town limits.
Rachel doesn't really expect to enjoy herself, but it's difficult not to when Quinn, Lex and Hugo seem to have the time of their lives. The entire thing is just wild, really. They get kitted out with protective gear, and Quinn even paints their cheeks with black stripes to make them look like warriors.
The way she is with them makes Rachel swoon all the damn time, and she takes about a hundred pictures of her crazy little family tripping over each other and rolling in the leaves and hay.
She's always the first one to get hit, and Quinn gives her an unimpressed look the fourth time it happens.
"I like watching," she says, all innocence. "Especially you. Your ass looks especially wonderful in those shorts."
And… Quinn blushes, huffs out a breath and stalks away.
Rachel might have won this little round, but Quinn definitely makes her pay for it later. She's entirely too good at the teasing thing, and they're both suitably worked up by the time Quinn declares it's time she and a knocked-out Lex head home.
Rachel almost asks her to stay. It's a growing feeling she's been trying to curb, because that's forward, isn't it? Quinn can't very well spend the night when Hugo doesn't even know the truth of their relationship. Where would Quinn even sleep?
Would they even sleep?
Rachel flushes at the mere idea of that, gathering a few of Lex's things while Quinn gets him set up in her car. There's something just so wonderfully domestic about their lives, and she's determined to hold onto it as much as possible.
Once she's got Lex's little backpack ready to go, she heads to the front door, ready to go outside, but Quinn is suddenly there in her doorway and looking a little nervous.
"Everything okay?" Rachel asks.
Quinn nods. "Is everything okay with you?"
"Of course."
Quinn licks her lips. "Look, I just want to check and make sure you're comfortable with…" she trails off, unable to put her worries into words.
Rachel does it for her. "With your making sure I'm aware you want to have sex with me."
Quinn's eyes widen. "I wouldn't exactly put it that way, but something like that, yes."
"I am," Rachel informs her. "I'm very comfortable with that."
Quinn breathes out in something like relief. "Okay. Yeah, okay, good."
Rachel hands over the backpack, and Quinn slides it over her one shoulder.
"You don't have to come out," Quinn says, and then blanches at the sound of her own words. "I mean, outside. You don't have to come outside."
"I know what you meant, Quinn," she says with a laugh.
Quinn shakes her head, embarrassed. "I do mean the other thing, too," she says anyway. "Just so you know."
"Thank you," she says, and, though she's felt no pressure from Quinn, it's still nice to hear. "Whenever I'm ready, right?"
"Right."
They stare at each other for a long, long moment.
Quinn breaks first, glancing behind her to make sure Lex is still safely tucked away in the car, before invading Rachel's space. She barely gives her a moment to adjust before she's kissing her hard, one hand on her hip and the other squeezing her ass rather firmly.
The moan Rachel releases is inevitable and unstoppable.
Quinn licks into her mouth, breathing through her nose, and Rachel fists her shirt in her hands, never wanting this to end.
But, as abruptly as it starts, it's over. Quinn releases her quite suddenly and takes a step back, her breathing laboured.
"Fuck," Quinn murmurs. "You're going to be the death of me."
Before Rachel can say anything, Quinn swoops in to kiss her again, sweetly this time, and Rachel wants her for forever. This kiss is everything, she decides, because it feels as if this is Quinn giving her everything.
"I should go," Quinn says, sounding reluctant.
"I wish you wouldn't."
Quinn chuckles softly. "I'll text you when we get home, okay?"
"Okay."
One last peck, and then Quinn is gone, slipping out the door and rushing to her car. Rachel watches her go, smiling fondly and waving back when Quinn raises a hand one last time.
When they're out of sight, Rachel closes the door and locks it, sighing dreamily. She's happy and feeling emotions that should overwhelm her, but they don't. She turns, then, mentally tallying what needs to be done before bed.
Rachel gets the shock of her life to find Hugo standing there, a glass of water in his hand and an unreadable expression on his face. She doesn't even know what to say to him.
She knows he's seen, or heard, or something. There's no doubt about it. So she just stands there and waits for him to say or do something, which is torture.
When he finally moves, it surprises her. He sets his glass on the table, and then rushes towards her, arms spread, and hugs her so tightly that she actually groans.
"Thank you," he says, his voice muffled against her abdomen. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."
Rachel isn't sure exactly what she's being thanked for, but she'll take it.
Thank you, indeed.