XII

Sex with Quinn is a little out of this world.

Rachel knows she shouldn't, but she can't stop herself from comparing the experience to those of her past. She wasn't lying when she told Quinn she's had only two partners, and she's felt for them mere fractions of what she feels for Quinn.

Because sex with Quinn is passionate, freeing and downright the best Rachel's ever had. Quinn quickly finds out what Rachel likes and plays her body like an instrument she's mastered, seemingly finding extreme satisfaction in drawing mewls of pleasure out of Rachel's mouth.

Rachel figures Quinn has a thing for making her scream, obscenities and all.

For the first time in her life, Rachel has a physical relationship that matches her emotional one, and she's been sorely tempted to tell Quinn she loves her, but she's terrified of having those words out in the Universe. Not when everything still has the chance of going so terribly wrong.

The closer they get and the deeper they get into this relationship; the more Rachel knows she has to tell Quinn. She has to. Just sit her down and come clean.

But she can't.

Doing so will ruin everything.

But so will not telling her.

It's the worst kind of Catch-22, and it's just going to get worse the longer she puts it off, because there's going to come a time when she won't be able to hide it anymore.

What happens then?

What happens now?

Well, now, Quinn is kissing her, fast and feverish, and they really have only an hour before her parents get back with Hugo and Lex. Max is asleep for now, and Rachel needs him to stay that way for about that amount of time as well. Please, Max.

Quinn wasn't even supposed to come over, given the number of errands she claimed she had to get done while Lex was occupied and out of the house. But now she's here, tongue in Rachel's mouth and hands under her dress.

Errands, all right.

What Rachel has confirmed for them both in that one hour is that it's not nearly enough time. No amount of time would be, and there's a certain longing that takes root in her chest when Quinn and Lex end up leaving just minutes after Hiram and LeRoy return the boys from their bicycle adventure.

"Someone needs a bath," Quinn jokes, ruffling Hugo's hair. "Did you eat dirt or something?" she asks, looking at all the mud caked over his body and clothes.

"Mom," Lex says excitedly, practically jumping in place as he tugs on her shirt. "I think we found what Hugo's good at."

Hugo blushes, the three of them standing right in Rachel's entrance hall, Quinn already on the way out.

Quinn beams at him. "What did I tell you?" she says, squeezing his shoulder. "You're going to have to show me one of these days."

Rachel starts making plans for it right then and there, because she's really a little pathetic and she wants to be with them always.

To do that, though, she's going to have to tell Quinn the truth.

She just never really gets around to it.

Nothing really stops her, other than the whirlwind of being in this new relationship, where she's actually happy and cared for and satisfied and -

Did she mention she's happy?

It's a little odd, really, that this is the life she's finally settled into. For so long, she had a very detailed plan, which she's since accepted was forced to change. She's never entertained the idea that she could get back to anything resembling that until now.

In her relationship and her family, she's as settled as she can be, but there's still something that niggles at her.

Okay, maybe a little more than something.

There are a lot of things in New York she still needs to deal with, and there's also the problem of deciding what to do with her professional future. The answer should be easy, but Rachel doesn't want to do the simple thing.

It would be easy to take the job Mr Schuester is offering. She loves music, and she enjoys imparting whatever knowledge she's managed to learn onto those coming up behind her. She won't be not happy with the job, but she just can't bring herself to commit to it.

Financially, she's stable. Finally. It was the most difficult in college, with baby Hugo, a heavy rental and college to get through. She couldn't exactly work good hours, be a mother and be a student all at the same time, so it took a lot of juggling to manage those three things, any amount of sleep and a social life.

It was difficult.

Graduating was both a relief and more of a burden. It took some time to find her proverbial feet, going to auditions and submitting demos to every producer linked to NYADA. It all eventually paid off, and she had a rather significant writing credit on a huge song she won't name, and things really started to settle.

The money is still coming in, and she's since written a handful more. She's certain she'll be able to survive, as long as she keeps writing, but it's difficult to maintain that kind of momentum when she's sitting in Lima, Ohio.

So many thoughts and so many options, and the only person Rachel even wants to talk to about it is Quinn. There are many things to talk about, apparently, but she starts with this:

"What do you think of my being a teacher?" she asks, leaning her back against her couch's armrest, her legs bent at the knee. Quinn's back is leaning against her shins in turn, blonde hair spread over Rachel's thighs.

Quinn pauses her reading, but doesn't turn around to look at her. "Uh," she starts; "I'm not sure if this is some kind of sex fantasy thing you're asking me about."

Rachel laughs. "No, Quinn," she says. "I'm asking your thoughts on me, as an actual teacher to high school students."

"Huh."

Rachel traps her bottom lip between her teeth, unsure what to make of Quinn's reaction - or lack thereof.

"Can I ask why this is a question you're posing?"

"I got offered a job," she explains. "At William McKinley High School, as the Music Director."

"What exactly would that entail?"

"I guess I would be running the entire music department, as well as directing the various choirs," she says. "There's an entire package Mr Schuester sent me, if you're interested in taking a look."

"Mr Schuester?"

"My old show choir director," she says. "He's now the principal."

"When were you made the offer?" Quinn asks.

"A few months ago." She sighs. "Blaine works at Dalton in a similar role."

"Dalton?"

Rachel rolls her eyes at herself, because obviously Quinn has no idea what she's talking about. "It's a private boys' school a little out of town," she says. "Direct rivals to McKinley."

Quinn shifts until she's sitting up straight, her torso twisting to look at Rachel. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Uh."

Quinn frowns. "I can hear it in your voice," she says. "And, honestly, what would it matter what I thought of you as a teacher?"

Rachel blinks. "Wouldn't you care?"

"That you were a teacher?"

"Well, yes."

Quinn clears her throat. "If it's something you want to do; if you will be happy doing it, then who am I to say anything about it?"

"My partner."

Quinn smiles softly. "I am your partner," she says; "which is another reason I'm definitely not going to tell you what to do."

"But, what do you think?"

"I think I would have figured out my sexuality a hell of a lot sooner if you were my teacher."

Rachel lets out an unexpected laugh, gasping as she swats at Quinn's shoulder. "You truly are an idiot."

Quinn meets her gaze. "I won't make the decision for you," she says. "Getting involved in my partner's work is a bit of a taboo for me, so I'm not doing that ever again. What I will say is that all I want is for you to be happy. If teaching will give you that; if this job is what you want to do for the next year or even the rest of your life, I'm always going to support you."

"But...?"

"It is not your only option."

"Isn't it?"

Quinn shakes her head. "Of course it's not," she says.

"What else can I do?"

"Who says you have to do anything?" Quinn asks. "I mean, don't you enjoy the work you're doing now? The songwriting? Remote producing?"

"I do," Rachel says, and this is truly the first time she's been able to have this kind of conversation with anyone in Lima. It's almost as if her parents and friends have forgotten it's something she actually does; something she enjoys. "It's just not sustainable."

"Who said that?"

"Me," she says. "I can't just exist on the back of my early success when I'm not directly involved in the business anymore. My name won't have any longevity."

Quinn looks thoughtful. "Is it because you're in Lima?"

Rachel drops her gaze. "Yes."

"Have you ever thought of moving?"

"Back to New York?"

Quinn nods. "Or anywhere else that has more of a music scene," she says.

"I can't," Rachel says, which isn't really an answer to Quinn's question. "My parents are here. My friends. My comfort and support. I've done the single parent thing away from them, and, let me just tell you, Quinn, it's shitty."

Quinn gives her a curious look. "You do realise you're no longer single, right?"

Rachel opens her mouth, and then closes it.

Quinn shifts onto her knees and leans forward, spreading Rachel's legs and crawling over her. She just hovers there, her face a breath away from Rachel's, as she supports herself with one hand on the back of the couch and the other just over Rachel's shoulder. "I will support you whatever you decide, but you have to be the one to decide it."

Rachel just stares at her, eyes darting between each of Quinn's eyes and her lips.

"Is there a deadline?"

"Last week of the summer," she murmurs.

"Then you have time," Quinn whispers, and then she kisses her. It's so, so gentle, barely there. "You and me," she says against Rachel's lips. "We have all the time in the world."

Rachel's left hand slides around her neck and draws her forward into another kiss. She tastes of wine and ice cream, leftover from their dessert, and Rachel wants her quite desperately.

She slowly slides down to lie flat on the couch, dragging Quinn with her until she's resting her weight on her, both of them moaning as they settle. "Quinn," she breathes.

"Hmm?"

Thought evades her as Quinn's mouth latches onto her neck, sucking gently. "I - I - "

Quinn's lips spread into a smile against her skin. "You what, huh?"

Her fingers slide into Quinn's hair, fisting it tightly. "The boys are asleep," she manages to say.

"The greatest part about having young children," she agrees. "Early bedtime."

Rachel hisses when Quinn's right hand sneaks under her pyjama top, seeking her skin, and then her breast. "The boys are asleep," Rachel says again.

"Baby, you're really going to ruin the mood if you keep bringing up our kids."

Rachel laughs, gasping when Quinn tickles her ribs. "I'm trying to tell you we're about as alone as we're going to get with the kids in the house."

Quinn lifts her head right up and peeks over the back of the couch at the bottom of the stairs. "I'm going to need you to be more specific," she finally says, looking back at Rachel.

Rachel rolls her eyes, and then puts her hand on top of Quinn's head. After a breath, she pushes down, clearly indicating just where she wants Quinn. "Is that specific enough for you?"

Quinn shifts down, grinning rather wickedly. "Think you can be quiet?" she asks, sliding her fingers into the waistband of Rachel's pants and tugging down.

Rachel's definitely going to try.

Update: she's not very good at it.

Nothing is really decided for Rachel, and she's almost waiting for a sign to help her make the right one. What else does she do if she doesn't take the job? Who is she without some kind of career or purpose?

She wishes she were more like Quinn, who seems so settled in the role of writer, even though Rachel has never even seen her write anything. She's unsure if it's even something she can ask about, so she avoids it as much as possible.

Still, her curiosity gets the better of her, and, when Quinn disappears for some hours while Rachel and her sons are over at their house, Rachel goes looking for her.

Quinn said, "Do you mind watching them for a little while?" and then headed to a room Rachel learns from Lex is actually Quinn's home office.

"Are you allowed to... go inside?" Rachel asks, sounding a little awkward.

Lex gives her a weird look. "Yes," he says. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Am I allowed inside?"

His expression shifts. "Did she say you're not?"

Rachel shakes her head. "I just - it's her creative space, isn't it?"

Lex shrugs. "Sometimes, she tells me not to disturb her," he confesses. "But that's only when she's really insp - inspi - "

"Inspired?"

He nods, eager. "But I can go inside, and I'm sure you can, too."

Rachel accepts his word, and then gets to her feet. "Are you boys okay here?"

"We're okay," Lex confirms, and then returns his attention to the television, silently giving Rachel permission to go off and learn more about his mother.

There's a legitimate part of her that's nervous when she knocks on the closed door. She's prepared for Quinn to reject her entrance - she can understand needing to be alone when working - but she hears a soft come in from behind the door, and she doesn't hesitate.

Quinn looks a little surprised to see her when her head pops in, though not displeased. "Hey," she says, eyes a little wide.

"Permission to enter?"

Quinn waves her inside. "Of course."

She slips inside, still a little nervous, but excited all the same. "So, is this what you do?" she asks, taking in Quinn's office with eager eyes. "Is this where all the magic happens?"

Quinn smiles at her, a little tired at the edges. "I wouldn't really call it magic," she says, yawning. "I've been struggling a bit."

"Anything I can help with?"

Quinn meets her gaze. "I wish I could say yes, but this story just isn't coming together the way I want it to." She glances away. "I can tell you that you have inspired a different story, though."

Rachel perks up, crossing the room to where Quinn is seated behind her desk. She hops onto the wood and lets her feet dangle, an odd sense of giddiness running through her bones. "Can I ask what it's about?"

"You can ask."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Tell me," she pouts. "Anything you're willing to."

Quinn closes her laptop and leans her elbows on the desk, suddenly looking very serious. "I know you won't believe me when I say this, but you truly are one of the strongest people I know."

Rachel shrinks a little. "No, I'm not," she says, the words almost automatic at this point.

Quinn's smile is a little sad. "I think it's taken you until now to realise you've always been strong; you just needed someone to make sure you knew you were allowed to be."

"I needed you?"

Quinn reaches for one of her hands. "I'm writing about a young mother," she says; "who has dreams and ambitions that she's had to set aside to raise her son. Who, when her son is old enough, finally takes the time to re-evaluate her life, and decides she's ready to reach for those dreams again. I'm writing for the person I know you are."

"Quinn."

"Maybe you're not ready now," Quinn concedes; "but there will be a day when you are, and I need you to know I'm going to be here supporting you through every step of it."

"I'm happy here."

"Are you happy here, or are you happy when you're with me?"

Rachel looks away, feeling a little stung by the phrasing of the question, because that's not -

"Quinn," she sighs.

Quinn gives her a sceptical look. "Who are you trying to convince?"

Rachel clears her throat. "Can we talk about something else?"

"In a moment," Quinn says. "I just have to say this quickly, and then we can shelf this topic for a day that you're actually ready. Are you listening?"

Reluctantly, she nods.

"You are very special," Quinn says. "Talented and fierce and proud and beautiful. You are so much more than this town you've relegated yourself to because you were somehow convinced your fullest life was something you couldn't thrive at on your own. And, you know what, there is no shame in that. Asking for help; needing it, there's nothing wrong with it. Absolutely nothing. But the shame is in believing this is it for you, because it's not. It's not even close. You deserve the world, and I intend to help you reach for it."

Rachel feels tears pool in her eyes, because she deserves none of this.

"Okay," Quinn says. "That's all I'm going to say about that, okay? For now, at least."

Rachel sighs. "You have far too much belief in me."

"I think I believe in you just enough, thank you very much," Quinn says, slightly indignant. "It is my job, as your friend and partner and whatever else I am to you, to help build you and lift you up. How can I even begin to try to be the best I can be, when you're not?"

"What if this is it for me?"

"It's not."

"What if it is?" Rachel insists. "Would you still want me if this is all I am? A washed-up almost-Broadway star, jaded from failed relationships; an exhausted mother-of-two, who's probably going to spend the rest of her life teaching music rather than performing it."

Quinn presses her palm to Rachel's knee. "Firstly, I will always want you," she says, low and purposeful. "Secondly, if I believed you were truly happy being exactly that person, then I wouldn't even be talking about this, but we both know this life isn't all you're capable of."

"Quinn," she breathes, suddenly tired.

Quinn squeezes her knee. "Whenever you're ready," she says. "Okay? Just know I will always believe in you, no matter what you want to do. I just wish you would do what makes you happy."

"I do," Rachel says. "I do you."

Quinn laughs unexpectedly. "You are an idiot."

"But I'm your idiot."

Quinn's smile softens, and she lifts Rachel's hand to her mouth, softly kissing her palm. Rachel can feel the curve of her lips against her skin, and the moment is perfect. "Indeed you are."

Quinn schedules a formal date for them on a Thursday, and Rachel panics that she's planning on them going to Rose's Diner again.

She's mistaken, of course, because Quinn rather uses the fact everyone Rachel knows goes to the diner, in order to get them a free evening somewhere else.

Quinn is a genius.

It's just dinner, at a bit of a farm-to-table place a short drive out of town. Rachel's heard of it from Kurt, but she wasn't interested in trying it until Quinn mentioned the possibility. Before, she wouldn't have come herself, and she knows Finn wouldn't have bothered bringing her this far out, just for dinner.

She's both relieved and happy she gets to experience all of this with Quinn.

They hold hands as Quinn drives, fingers linked, and Rachel isn't at all anxious. Not the way she was on their first date.

She can't tell if it's the idea of going somewhere it's unlikely they'll meet anyone she knows, or if she's just more settled in this relationship now that it's been a few weeks. How much does she care if people know she and Quinn are dating? She almost thinks she wants people to know, because Quinn is stunning, and Quinn is hers.

And, when Rachel says stunning, she means it. Especially tonight. Quinn is wearing a low-cut black jumpsuit that is positively indecent, and Rachel is struggling not to stare constantly. Her gaze keeps drifting, down the line of her neck, along her delectable collarbones to the spanse of milky skin between her breasts.

It's really not fair that there's a human being who actually looks like this. She's beautiful and Rachel loves her and she really, really hopes she gets the chance to undress her before the night is over.

Quinn pulls into an unpaved parking lot almost twenty minutes later, her smile small but present. "So, I hear they grow nearly everything they serve right here," she says as she climbs out of the car and rushes around to Rachel's side, holding the door open. "Especially the veggies."

Rachel won't admit to looking through the menu rather extensively online. She's pretty sure she already knows what she wants.

Quinn offers her arm once Rachel's feet are steady and the car is locked, and Rachel immediately takes it. "Did I tell you that you look beautiful tonight?" Quinn murmurs.

Rachel sighs happily. "You may have mentioned it once or twice."

"Only once or twice?" she asks, exaggeratedly aghast.

Rachel laughs, just enjoying this moment. This evening. This woman.

This life.

She positively swoons when she realises Quinn has actually made a reservation, and, this time, Quinn pulls out her chair and stays, guiding her back in. Their server, Amy, is young, probably a college student, and she's definitely more enthusiastic than the establishment requires.

Too enthusiastic, actually.

Especially with Quinn.

It's such an odd feeling for Rachel, because she managed to convince herself this wouldn't happen to her ever again. And yet, here she is with someone whose general good looks are capable of attracting all kinds of attention.

She dealt with it most notably with Brody, who loved to play it up, claiming he was hoping to get a free meal. It's sobering, watching your partner make eyes with a waitress while you're sitting right there.

Quinn does none of those things.

In fact, she barely acknowledges Amy beyond a polite greeting and a brief question on a recommendation of wine. Rachel didn't even know it was something she needed to witness; some kind of affirmation that Quinn is here with her, and her eyes are never straying.

Quinn eventually orders them one of Amy's recommendations, of which Rachel knows she'll be drinking majority. It's a red, which is Rachel's favourite, though she doesn't mention it when Amy leaves, because she's sure Quinn already knows.

Conversation is easy as they discuss the menu, and Amy eventually returns with their wine, ready to take their order. Again, Quinn indicates for her to speak first, and Rachel wonders what kind of idiot every person Quinn's ever dated must be, to let her go.

"Are you going to make me get rid of my leather jacket?" asks as soon as Amy is out of earshot.

Rachel blinks, caught off guard. "Excuse me?"

Quinn smiles at her. "I just - I mean, you must be a vegetarian for a reason, so I'm asking if leather is as much as a no-no for you as it is for other vegetarians, or lapsed-vegans, I guess."

Rachel lifts her glass to sip at her wine. "I wouldn't wear leather," she says. "I wouldn't even wear fake leather, but that's an entire other bucket of ethical concerns."

Quinn raises her eyebrows.

"But, no, I wouldn't make you give up anything, Quinn," she says. "And, honestly, I happen to like the way you look in your leather jacket."

Quinn grins at her. "I knew it."

"As if it's some big secret," she says with a shake of her head. "And, honestly, I think I'm a vegetarian by the principle of sheer stubbornness, at this point. I mean, how much of a veggie can a person be when all they do is pick the meat out of regular food?"

"Regardless of that, I still think it's admirable that you've managed to stick with it, in any form," Quinn says. "I don't think I have enough discipline for that."

"I told you I'm just really stubborn."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Sure thing, Berry Blaze."

Rachel shakes her head, carefully sipping her wine again. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

Rachel pauses, suddenly unsure how her curiosity will be received. It's something she's been meaning to ask for a while, and this seems as good a time as any. "You don't have to answer, of course, but, uh, I guess I was just wondering about your family."

The change in Quinn is instant. Her relaxed demeanour shifts into something tense, and her lips purse from her obvious discomfort with the topic.

Rachel wants to take her words back immediately, but Quinn starts speaking before she can.

"I'm not sure what exactly you want to know," she says, looking so very young, all of a sudden. "I have a mother and a father, and I have an older sister. I suspect, by now, I probably have a niece or a nephew, perhaps both. I wouldn't know."

Rachel wants to reach out and touch her; offer her the chance to stop.

"I never quite fit into my family," Quinn says. "I knew it from an early age. I think we all did. I was just different, though I'm not sure I could explain it. I was quiet, but I wasn't. I was smart, but also not. I was the perfect daughter, but also defective. I think I grew up as such a contradiction that I never quite figured out who I was until I just did.

"There were a lot of expectations for us," Quinn continues, her eyes slightly unfocused as she stares at some point over Rachel's shoulder. "My sister, Frannie, she could handle it better, and she was my father's pride and joy. I... was… not." She blinks, and then looks at Rachel's face. "I did what I could to convince him I was worth it, of course. I was head cheerleader, class President, valedictorian, all those things that should make a parent proud, but it just..." she trails off, and then clears her throat. "I went to Yale both to get away from him but also keep him off my back. It was a good decision in many ways, even though it led to the ultimate inevitable. As hard as I tried, the end was coming, and I guess the pregnancy just arrived before the acceptance of my sexuality.

"Of course, I had an idea what would happen when I found out I was pregnant," she says. "I had an idea, but it was still shocking hearing my father tell me to get out of his house and never come back. That I was no daughter of his; that he would never let me just embarrass him with a child out of wedlock. God, imagine if he knew where Baby even came from." She shakes her head, a wry smile on her face. "So, I left. It was heartbreaking and harder than I ever imagined it would be,. All I know is I never would have survived any of it without James and Blue."

"What about your sister?" Rachel asks, unable to stop herself.

Quinn's features harden, which Rachel definitely shouldn't find as sexy as she does. "I tried calling a handful of times, but I got the message rather quickly. It's something that's taken years to accept, but I have. I'm probably happier now, with my found family, and - " she stops, sighs. "Granny Fabray was the only one who ever reached out to me, a few months after Lord Lexington was born. I was wary at first, but she used to come out to New York quite often, and we were just two hours away, so we'd see her whenever she was there."

Rachel smiles softly.

"I think, in the beginning, it might have been some kind of massive fuck you to her son, but we totally won her over, because, and I quote, 'Leo and I are wonderfully charming.'"

"That, you most definitely are."

Quinn sighs. "I hadn't seen any of my family until the will reading," she admits. "I didn't get news of her passing until her lawyer contacted me. It was - it was horrible. Baby didn't handle it well at all, especially after everything with Blair." She sucks in a sharp breath. "So, I came to Lima for the reading, and all the family I hadn't seen in years was there, and it was whatever, I guess. It was never about them, anyway, and Granny Fabray totally proved it to the lot of them when she left everything to me." Quinn laughs, the sound a little dark. "Can you even imagine the chaos that caused?"

Rachel winces, actively trying not to.

"They contested the will, obviously, but she was definitely of sound mind, and that was that. Here I am, living in her house, trying to live a good, happy, fulfilling life the way she's always wanted me to."

This time, Rachel does reach across the table to touch her, fingers light on the back of her hand. "I think she'd be proud of you."

Quinn still looks so young, even through the dark makeup and hair that is practically begging Rachel to run her fingers through. "You think so?"

"I know so."

Quinn's smile is a little lopsided. "Did you know she hated Blair?" she says. "Like, hated her."

Rachel puffs out a breath. "Well, Quinn, I don't even know her, and I'm pretty sure I hate her."

Quinn laughs, and it sounds lighter than it has all evening. She looks as if she's going to elaborate on her own segueway, but that's the moment their food arrives, and Quinn smiles in thanks at Amy.

Whose eyes linger just a little too long on Quinn to be strictly appropriate.

If Quinn notices, she doesn't mention it, and Amy disappears with what she clearly intends to be a flirty just let me know if you need anything; anything at all.

Rachel's fists clench, but Quinn looks wholly unaffected as she lays her napkin over her lap and breathes in her steak, this happy little grin spreading across her face.

"This is happiness on a plate," Quinn says, lifting her silverware, saying a brief prayer, and proceeding to begin eating.

It takes Rachel a little longer to settle, but she eventually does, and they spend the next few minutes eating in silence. She wants to bring up Blair again, but she thinks the moment's gone. It's probably better to stick to safer topics, anyway, and she's just about to comment on her own food when Quinn suddenly speaks.

"We were together for three years."

Rachel blinks, absently wondering how Quinn even does that. She rests her silverware on the edges of her plate and sips at her wine, giving Quinn her undivided attention.

Quinn isn't looking at her, though, and it's perhaps easier for them both. "We met at her work. Blue's work. She was a little older than both of us, already promoted to detective in Robbery." Her jaw tenses, and she seems to force herself to relax. "She had dreams of working in homicide. They all do, really, but it just wasn't working out or whatever. Anyway. We met and we started... seeing each other. It was casual at first, no commitment, and it was just simpler if we kept it completely under the radar. Nobody knew. Not a soul. It - it wasn't even the whole gay thing, which I would have understood, but she insisted on keeping us a secret for so long, and - "

"Baby," Rachel breathes.

"It reminded me of Patrick," Quinn admits, blinking repeatedly. "I think I would have been devastated if she also turned out to be secretly married, because, wow, don't I know how to pick them?" She lets out a nervous laugh, and Rachel drops her gaze immediately. God. "But, then, something happened to her," Quinn says. "It was totally out of the blue, but there was a hostage situation, and - " she stops and blushes. "Well, after that highly emotional day, it was pretty clear to everyone we were involved. Looking back, now, I think she was almost guilted into a real relationship because of the way it all came out, and - "

"Quinn."

"I can see it better, now that it's over," she says. "Have you ever just had to drag someone through everything? And, you know they're reluctant, but..." she trails off, and then shakes her head. "Three years I'm never getting back."

"I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"Because I know exactly what that feels like," she says. "Though, I've got one up on you, because it's been so much more than three years."

"Lovers, huh?"

"Can't live with 'em; can't live without 'em."

Quinn meets her gaze and holds it, her expression sombre and serious. "I think we have to go through those bad experiences to appreciate the good ones."

Rachel breathes out, her body relaxing. "And, how would you rate this experience?"

Quinn tips her glass in her direction, and very purposefully says, "Infinite."

Rachel almost wants to skip dessert entirely.

It's partly to do with what Quinn is wearing, sure, but also a lot to do with Amy, who keeps making eyes at Quinn as if Rachel isn't sitting right there. It was borderline cute at first, but it's just irritating now.

Quinn still asks about dessert, of course, and Rachel gets the impression Quinn probably wants to hang around a bit more to allow herself more time to sober up from her single glass of wine.

"We can share," Quinn offers with an indulgent little smile.

Rachel nods just once, and then Quinn orders them a half portion of baklava and a scoop of vanilla ice cream, coupled with a cappuccino for herself.

Quinn looks rather amused when she looks back at Rachel, Amy walking away to deliver their order to the kitchen for preparation.

"What?" Rachel asks, licking her lips, when she's stared for just a little too long.

"Nothing."

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

Rachel gives her a questioning look. "Quinn?"

"Hmm?"

"I feel as if I already know the answer to this question, but I still have to ask if you are aware of Amy's attention?"

Quinn grins, as if she finds it the funniest thing in the world. "I am, yes," she says, almost sounding happy about it. "You're cute when you're miffed."

"We are on a date," she says, pointing at Quinn, and then at herself. "You and me. I'm pretty sure it's obvious by now."

Quinn just smiles, as if it's not obvious at all. Rachel narrows her eyes, because it's almost as if Quinn is daring her to do something without actually saying the words.

"Quinn?"

"Hmm?"

Rachel lifts herself out of her seat and leans right over the table, her one hand sliding behind Quinn's neck while the other rests on the table for support. She barely hesitates before drawing Quinn forward; closer. Into a brief kiss, that probably lingers more than is strictly necessary.

Quinn looks a little dazed when Rachel returns to her seat. "Huh," she breathes; "totally obvious now."

Rachel laughs softly.

Quinn glances over her shoulder for a moment, checking if Amy did, indeed, see the display, and then she winks at Rachel, clearly enjoying herself far too much. "I think Amy got the message," she says, looking just a little smug.

Rachel blushes, not willing to look at Amy herself. "Should I feel bad?"

"Nope," Quinn tells her. "By all means, claim me as many times and as much as you want."

Rachel groans internally, her mind going some inappropriate places. Those are images she really needs turned into reality, and she desperately needs them not to be in public right now. "Quinn?"

"Hmm?"

"Get dessert to go."

Rachel has had sex in a car only once before, and she vowed, back then, she wouldn't ever do it again. It was profoundly uncomfortable, unpleasant, and she didn't even -

And, yet, here she is, actually reconsidering it.

She's also sorely tempted to make Quinn pull over somewhere, just so she can touch. She really, really wants to touch, but Quinn very pointedly told her to sit on her hands, lest they end up causing some kind of accident.

There's an overwhelming sense of desperation creeping into her bones, though she can't be sure why. Almost as if they're running out of time, which is truly a sobering thought.

Because she has an idea as to why that could be.

Rachel finds it much easier to keep her hands to herself after that thought trickles through, and she falls silent, her eyes looking out the window as the trees drift by. This is the last thing she wants; the last thing they need is for her thoughts to ruin their evening, and she -

"Hey," Quinn murmurs, getting her attention. "Everything okay?"

Rachel audibly swallows, her heart beating a little too fast. "Quinn," she breathes; "Can I ask something?"

"Of course," Quinn says.

"Would you - is there - "

"Barb," Quinn says. "What's wrong?"

She chuckles, almost unexpectedly. "I really hate that name."

Quinn grins at her. "Reckon tonight's the night you get me to use your real one?"

Rachel lets out a breath. "You're presuming you're getting lucky," she says.

"I'm already lucky."

"Charmer."

Quinn smiles, gentle and knowing. "There's something on your mind. I can tell."

Rachel sighs. "I want to tell you something, but I'm unsure how it's going to be received."

Quinn doesn't say anything.

"We're still getting to know each other, and I really, really like you, and I guess I'm just worried that - "

"I hope you know you can tell me anything."

"What if it's a dealbreaker?"

Quinn gulps. "I - uh - not many things are," she says, which is definitely very revealing. "You haven't murdered anyone, have you?" she tries to joke.

Rachel sighs. "I just - I really, really like you, Quinn." Which is just her cowardly way of saying I love you without actually saying it.

Quinn says nothing, and they spend the rest of the drive in silence. There's something unspoken now hanging between them, and Rachel isn't sure what to say to alleviate the growing tension. She doesn't want their relationship to suffer through this kind of awkwardness, but she also isn't sure how to make the situation better.

Quinn drives them to her own house, which is probably more comfortable for her. They still have a few hours left before they have to pick up the boys from Rachels' parents' house, and, until she opened her stupid mouth and brought doubt into their relationship, she knew how they were going to spend their time.

Now, not so much.

Which is why it's both a relief and a surprise when Quinn closes the front door behind them and kisses her. Quinn backs her into the door, pressing their bodies together, and Rachel sighs into her mouth.

"I'm sorry," Rachel whispers, because she is.

Quinn just kisses her harder, and Rachel almost loses herself in it. "It's okay," she says, nipping at Rachel's bottom lip. "It's okay," she says again. "You'll tell me. I know you will."

Rachel hears her words without her having to say them, but Quinn still does.

"Whenever you're ready."

It's almost jarring the way Quinn sweeps it all under the rug; just sets it aside for whenever Rachel really is ready.

Rachel doesn't know how she does it, because it sits on her own brain rather extensively. Quinn just doesn't seem real, and Rachel spends long moments just staring at her as if she doesn't believe Quinn exists.

"You're staring at me."

Rachel snaps to attention, blinking several times. "Huh?"

"Why are you just staring at me?" Quinn asks, splitting her attention between the wok on the stove and Rachel sitting on a stool at the kitchen island.

"I - I really appreciate you making me that stir fry," she says.

Quinn just smiles. "When the kids ask for fried chicken… that doesn't really leave much room for you," she says, as if it's nothing.

Rachel knows it's not nothing.

Everything to do with Quinn is always something.

"And, you're still staring," Quinn teases, her eyes giving away her amusement. "You hot for me, Berry?"

Rachel instantly flushes, and Quinn laughs as she tosses the vegetables in her wok. Rachel just watches as Quinn pours in some soy sauce, and then a dash of sesame oil, before she picks out a strip of red pepper to give it a taste.

Rachel thinks Quinn is sexiest like this. So clearly in her element, her shoulders relaxed and her smile easy. She's in her stupid denim shorts again, long legs so deliciously on display. Rachel didn't even know how much she appreciated a person's arms until the first time she witnessed Quinn lift Max above her head.

"Still staring," Quinn says, switching off the burner and sliding over to her, stepping right into her space. "The question, now, is why are you staring?" She parts Rachel's knees and moves in closer. "Something on your mind?"

Rachel tilts her head up to meet her gaze. They both already know the answer to that question. "Hugo just abandoned you," is what she ends up saying.

Quinn laughs, low and breathy. "Shows just how interested he is in vegetarian dishes."

"At least he stuck around for the fried chicken," Rachel says, her fingers reaching for Quinn's shirt and slipping through the spaces between her buttons.

"I dig his priorities," Quinn murmurs.

"And your priorities?"

"You," Quinn says, her hands resting on Rachel's thighs, fingers warm against her bare skin. "You."

"Me," Rachel echoes, her eyes dipping to Quinn's lips, almost without her say-so.

Quinn's mouth spreads into a smile. "And our three monsters, of course."

"Lest we forget our little princes."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "We should probably let them know dinner's ready, shouldn't we?"

Rachel peeks a look around Quinn, even though she can't possibly see into the living room from her position. "We should," she agrees, though neither of them makes a move to do that. Instead, she tugs on Quinn's shirt, clear intent in her eyes, and they sink into a deep, deep kiss.

It is so easy, and it is still so surprising.

Quinn kisses her so slowly that it hurts, as if she's kissing just for the sake of kissing her. Her hands tighten on Rachel's thighs, guiding her forward to the edge of her stool, and their bodies press together.

There's no obvious desire to take it any further, but Rachel still makes a sound of complaint when Quinn ends their kiss, slowly pulling away and opening her eyes.

"Dinner," Quinn reminds her.

"Who needs food?" she asks with a pout.

"Uh, every living being on the planet," Quinn quips, grinning at her. "So, just ease up on the pout, will you? We'll get a chance to continue this later."

Rachel meets her gaze. "Promise?"

Quinn laughs sweetly, stealing a quick kiss. "I promise," she murmurs, and then disappears from Rachel's space completely.

Rachel almost reaches for her again, but she lets her go, doing her best to set aside her anxiety. It works, for the most part, because it's so easy to be with Quinn and their boys; to be present and a part of this life she's suddenly so desperate to hold onto.

It's real and forever, and Rachel loves every part of it.

Which is why she's so terrified of losing it.