Part Seven: The time is going by slowly but you're walking away fast

Marley is tense. Her foot bounces up and down, arms crossed over her chest – because she'll drive herself insane with fidgeting otherwise – and her eyes constantly dart towards the closed front door.

Meanwhile, Brittany is the picture of calm. She sits on the porch seat, humming to herself.

"Marley?"

"What?"

"There's no need to worry." Brittany tucks a leg under herself. "Everything's gonna work out just fine."

"How do you – " starts Marley, and then cuts herself off. She knows better than to ask; partly because Brittany's always right when it comes to this sort of thing, mostly because Marley's certain she won't understand the logic behind the explanation anyway. "Nah. I trust you."

Brittany beams. "Thanks for trusting me. A lot of people don't really do that."

And finally Marley manages a smile. "I'm not a lot of people, Britt." She moves to sit next to her, scooting to rest her head on Brittany's shoulder. "But… thanks. For everything."

"You're welcome." She starts humming; Marley closes her eyes and lets the vibrations soothe her.

"You know… you haven't said anything about me and Quinn yet," says Marley after a pause. She feels Brittany shrug.

"Should I be saying anything? Like, it's a good thing you guys have each other. You need someone who can keep up with you, and Quinn needs someone who can be ultra-patient with her when she's being dumb. It fits just right."

"... Really?"

"Really," says Brittany. "There were so many ways things could've gone, and this is one of the better arrangements."

"Oh. Okay…?"

"... I can tell you wanna ask about Finn and Rachel, and me and San."

Marley starts. "I…"

"I know you're not actually going to but I just wanted to say that I don't mind you asking, 'cause it's not fair that you didn't get born earlier and go through all the background stuff; but now's not really the time for it." She nods towards the closed front door. "Today's all about Quinn."

"Yeah."

The door swings open, making Marley sit bolt-upright. Judy Fabray, eyes red, hurries out with a brief nod in the girls' direction before getting into her car. Marley and Brittany wait until the grey vehicle takes off down the street before going back into the house.

Quinn sits on the couch, knees drawn up to her chest, forehead pressed to her knees. Just as Marley is searching for the right words to say, Brittany squeezes her shoulder, and slips back out the front door.

She takes one step forward, then another. She reaches the couch all too soon. Still keyed up from her own confrontation with Judy Fabray, Marley nevertheless puts aside her own feelings, and sits on the couch.

"You went to her earlier." Quinn's voice is tear-free, steady.

"Yeah."

"What did you talk about?"

Marley's fingers settle on Quinn's elbow, and curl around her arm. "The way she's treated you. Among other things."

Quinn relaxes fractionally under Marley's touch. "Like my sister?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry."

"Don't. Don't be sorry." Quinn lifts her head; her eyes are bright and red-rimmed. "You just said things we were too cowardly to say aloud for years."

"I felt bad not telling you the truth, earlier."

"I wouldn't call that lying. A white lie, perhaps." The corner of Quinn's mouth curves up. "I don't think you've ever lied to me before."

Though Quinn's tone is light, Marley can feel her face heat. "I don't plan on doing it again, ever."

Quinn doesn't say anything further. While she doesn't initiate further contact, she isn't pulling away from Marley's touch like she did last night; Marley's glad for that. It had killed her, seeing a hurt Quinn shy away.

"I was hoping I could stay here with you and your mom for the rest of the week," says Quinn quietly.

"Yes – of course. I was gonna offer, and you know my mom would have a fit if you didn't stay. Or ask."

Quinn smiles absently. "Thanks."

Marley decides now isn't a time to wait for Quinn to open up – she's a firm believer in the power of a good night's sleep, and comfort food. "I'll make up the guest room for you," she starts to say, getting up, and pauses when Quinn catches her wrist.

Her girlfriend's hazel eyes lock with hers for a long moment. Marley tries to convey as much support and love as she possibly can with only her eyes.

Quinn leans in and kisses her cheek. Lips linger on her cheek for longer than a kiss would normally take, hot breath tickling the fine hairs of Marley's skin.

She can't control the floaty feeling inside of her, chasing away the heaviness that's dogged her the entire morning, and Marley smiles until her face feels like it's about to fall off. She's quick to return the physical affection once she stands. Marley stoops to kiss Quinn on the forehead, fingers brushing over the hair framing her face. "I'll be right back."

Her phone – forgotten on her bed after Judy's visit – is ringing aggressively when she passes her room. Marley starts, then dashes for it. "Hello?"

"What's going on?" demands Santana. "Why didn't you call me the instant that bitch opened her mouth?"

"Because you'd overreact and unleash Snix on the next flight back to Lima?"

Santana grunts. "Fine, okay, I'll give you that. And now? Im assuming that since you're final-fucking-ly answering the phone, that things are under control."

"Sort of. Quinn's downstairs; Mrs Fabray came over to talk to her, she just left."

"How is she? Comatose? Angry? Kicking chairs?"

"Uh… pretty calm, actually," says Marley. She walks to the linen cupboard, phone tucked in the crook of her shoulder. "I left her downstairs to make up the guest room for her."

"Hmm."

"Uh, yeah. Should I… should I not be upstairs?"

Santana cackles. "Nah, I can't answer that for you. You know her best, dontcha? Just do what you need to do and get back to Tubbers ASAP. Oh, and do me a favour? Tell her to call me back. Pronto. Later, Rosie."

"Okay." She pauses halfway through slipping pillowcases on to make another call. Rachel picks up after barely two rings.

"Marley! Hi! I don't mean to be rude, but it's about time you called; I've been going crazy thinking of all the worst things that could happen," she says, sounding anxious. "How's Quinn? Is she alright? What's been happening?"

"Quinn's okay." Marley gives her the bare bones of what's been happening since her last call; Rachel falls silent at the mention of Brittany and Finn.

"Oh," she says, "I didn't know they were in Lima."

"I'm sorry – "

"It's fine," Rachel interrupts. "I can't think of anyone better for her than Brittany. I'm glad you're both there for her right now." She doesn't mention Finn, and Marley doesn't ask. "So, did Quinn tell you what she and Judy talked about?"

"No, not yet. She looks tired; I think it's best if we took some time out. Process everything that happened."

"Yes, I think that's a good idea. It sounds like you could use a break, too. We'll talk later, okay?"

"Sure. Bye, Rachel."

Her phone goes into her back pocket, and she leaves the neat bed behind. Downstairs, Quinn has her own phone out, a small frown on her face. "Were you talking to S or Rachel or both?" asks Quinn, putting the phone down.

Marley grins sheepishly. "You too?"

Quinn snorts. "Rachel wouldn't know what restraint is if it beat her out for a starring role."

Marley's demeanour relaxes considerably at the joke. She sits down, slipping an arm through Quinn's. "She's been a bad influence on Santana."

"It goes both ways."

Marley's phone beeps. She glances at the screen. "Are you tired? My mom says she's on her way home, and she wants to take us out to dinner." Without waiting for an answer, Marley plows ahead, adding: "We don't have to if you're tired, I can always tell her to buy takeout."

"No, actually…"

Marley glances up.

"I think dinner would be pretty good. Take my mind off everything that's happened today." Quinn squeezes Marley's hand.

"If you're sure." Marley watches her closely, finally smiling when Quinn nods.

She can't sleep – which is given, considering the events of the day. It's physically impossible for her to still be running on the adrenaline high, but Marley feels like every nerve in her body is awake.

Her thoughts are drawn from focusing on the ceiling when she hears the creaky floorboard at the top of the stairs. Immediately, Marley rises from the bed and fetches the oversized coat from her closet, heading downstairs – careful to avoid the creaky board, and the others on the stairs.

Marley's search is mercifully quick. The porch door is slightly ajar, and she slips through.

Quinn starts. "Sorry – did I wake you?"

"No. I couldn't sleep, too. Are you cold?" Marley asks.

"Not really."

Marley's eyes trail up her girlfriend's body, from her bare feet, shorts, and finally her long-sleeved Yale alumni shirt. "You sure? I'm always happy to share," she says, holding out her arms – hidden in the sleeves of the jacket she's wearing.

"... Maybe a little," admits Quinn. "I wasn't thinking when I came out here without a sweater."

"Understandable." Marley opens her arms. "Here."

"... what am I supposed to do?"

She beckons with an empty sleeve. "Come here." Marley guides Quinn to step closer until they're chest-to-chest. "Put your arms around me, under the jacket." When Quinn does, Marley wraps her sleeved arms around Quinn, completing the circle. "There. Warm."

"Ingenious." Quinn rests her forehead against Marley's. Her eyes flutter closed.

Even though they're both standing, Marley feels comfortable enough to fall asleep.

"So…"

Quinn laughs softly. "It's weird, having you be the persistent one for once. It reminds me of Rachel." She tugs on Marley's shirt, and then turns away slightly to look at the wooden porch seat. Marley releases her; before she joins Quinn, Marley shrugs off the jacket and throws it over their laps like a blanket.

"I'm sorry," says Marley softly once they're settled. She's not sure if the comparison to Rachel is a good thing or not.

"No. It's not a bad thing, I… she literally changed my life. She helped me get over myself, helped me see outside of the narrow worldview I had…" Quinn trails off. She toys with a knot on the armrest of the wooden bench. "Without her, I probably would never have left town. I'd probably be a real estate agent, or working in Walmart. Maybe married to Finn."

Marley laughs despite herself. "I find that incredibly hard to believe, given how amazingly driven and ambitious you are."

"Believe it," replies Quinn lightly. "I was angry at everyone, and isolated. One of those misguided kids lashing out at the world, the kind of teenager you see in Facebook motivational videos. I hit rock bottom."

"And you picked yourself up," says Marley staunchly.

Quinn smiles. "Before that, though, there was Rachel." Her fingers stop their back-and-forth movement over the smooth wood. "I think that's how I ended up having the biggest crush on her."

Marley's eyes go to Quinn's face. They've never talked about it before; Quinn refusing to share, and Rachel horribly awkward and apologetic. She wonders what it has to do with Judy Fabray and the incidents of yesterday, but chooses not to comment.

"She pushed me out of my comfort zone almost constantly," says Quinn, sounding amused, "and she always managed to find my last nerve and trample it. Of course, she's changed a lot during college," adds Quinn as though sensing Marley's difficulty reconciling the Rachel she knows with the one Quinn's describing. "She used to be way more annoying."

Marley nods. Quinn's always saying how being with Santana has mellowed Rachel, but she's still fairly highly-strung to the point Marley can't picture her being worse.

"She taught me that I didn't need my parents' approval. That being myself wasn't something I needed to hide or apologise for." Quinn finally lifts her gaze from the ground. "But I never got around to saying that to my parents' faces."

"Everything I've done, it was away from my mom," continues Quinn. "And everytime I visited, I had to act like how she expected me to. I didn't like who I had to be in Lima, but I could never break the habit of being that Quinn."

"I didn't do much," protests Marley.

"Marley, you went to my house to talk to my mother because you were upset over the things she said to me that made me upset," says Quinn. "It had nothing to do with you, honestly, but you cared enough to do it. There are very few people who would do that for me."

"I was terrified."

"And yet, you did it." Quinn rests her head against Marley's shoulder. "You probably have no idea how much that means to me."

Marley says nothing, simply starts combing her fingers through Quinn's hair.

"My mom and I… we said a lot of things to each other that probably should've been said earlier." Out of the corner of Marley's eye, she sees Quinn's mouth twist. "There's still a lot of stuff. Years and years of issues, but… at least it's a start. Hopefully we'll work some things out."

"That's good."

"We'll never have the kind of relationship you and your mom have, but… it's better than nothing."

"Quinn, based on what I know about you and your family, making an effort to repair your relationship with your mom is a huge thing. Especially since this entire blow up was partly my fault…"

"What?" Quinn straightens. "Your fault? Why?"

Marley looks away. "W-well, you told your mom about me."

"Marley." Hands cup her face tenderly, urging her to look back at her girlfriend. When she finally does, Quinn's expression is intense. "None of this is your fault. If anything, I should be thanking you for starting off all this… it pushed me and my mom to be honest with each other for the first time in years, instead of going through the motions of pretending to get along."

"I feel bad that you felt bad."

Quinn laughs, lightly and unexpectedly. "I'm Quinn Fabray. Emotional meltdowns are kinda my thing."

"I wish they weren't," says Marley. She turns her face to kiss the palm of Quinn's right hand; her fingers curl around Quinn's wrists.

Quinn's response is to pull Marley closer, her lips ghosting over Marley's forehead.

She sleeps in – it's expected, really, after the night they both had. The spot beside her is rumpled and empty by the time she wakes; by now, Marley has gotten used to it.

A familiar voice catches her attention when Marley leaves her room. It filters from the guest room.

" – shouldn't let her talk to you like that." The voice is distorted by distance and electronics but it's unmistakably Santana Lopez's.

"She's my mother, Lopez." Quinn sounds exasperated. "You know what she's like."

"Honestly, Q, you're supposed to be the Ivy League graduate twice over. I can't believe you thought coming out to Judy Fabray would be a good idea. Especially since, y'know, this is the same lady who kicked you out for being preggo after having sex with a man. Totally being understanding, and all."

"If you're gonna talk like that, I'm putting you off speaker…"

This should be Marley's cue to stop eavesdropping, but she doesn't move – especially since Quinn's voice floats out: "She's been… everything, S. I don't know how to put it."

A beat. "... Yeah. Something like that. Rachel… what? Yes, I – yes. More than it ever – huh? Yeah, I remember. Why?"

Marley's fingers twitch, eager to get away so she won't get caught eavesdropping. Her gut, however, tells her to stay put. On the phone, Quinn is saying: "... Yeah, I mean – that's why I… S? Oh, got it. Yes, I'll call you back… no, I won't let you blow up my phone again…"

She stiffens as the words register, then Marley quietly walks away.

There's a note on the kitchen table; her mom will be back late because she's headed for her class after work. She sends off a quick text to say she's got it, then gets out the things to make breakfast.

For some reason, hearing Quinn talk about Rachel now unsettles her; a distinct and unpleasant change from the vague discomfited feeling she'd gotten while Quinn was talking about it last night. She'd dismissed it before because there were other things she'd had on her mind, but…

The feeling of jealousy, hot and irrational, disgusts her. She's human, but… Marley's not that girl anymore. It has nothing to do with how she still has a lingering sense of inadequacy that Quinn's too good for her, that she doesn't have the bright career path she's always dreamed of, that her girlfriend has no shortage of attractive and successful admirers –

She drops a pan. "Shit," hisses Marley, grabbing at it to silence the clattering. Setting it back on the counter, Marley places both hands on either side, taking deep breaths to clear her thoughts.

Quinn pokes her head in. "What happened? Are you okay?"

Lifting her head, Marley smiles at her girlfriend. "I'm fine. Sorry I woke you."

"I've been awake for a while."

She lets Quinn put her arms around her waist. "Do you need help?" asks Quinn, her chin resting on Marley's shoulder.

Marley's eyes trail over the counter, with the tray of eggs, the pack of meats, and other assorted foods in various states of preparation. "... Maybe?"

Quinn laughs; she tightens the embrace for a split-second before letting go. "I can work with that. I'll cook the bacon."

"Of course you will," says Marley. "The most important part of the meal."

"I have no idea what youre talking about. I'm letting you do the scrambled eggs because they're the best I've ever eaten – apart from your mom's, of course." A shadow passes over Quinn's face, but Marley thinks she may be overthinking it, because it's gone the next instant. Quinn turns to put the pan on the fire, cutting a pat of butter for the bacon.

Together, they put together a simple breakfast. Quinn takes a bite of eggs and sighs. "I've missed this. When was the last time you made them for me?"

"It's been a while."

"Too long." Quinn gives her a shy smile over the rim of her coffee mug; Marley's heart flutters – and is dampened by the memory of her dark thoughts earlier. She returns the smile after a beat.

As soon as breakfast's done and the kitchen cleaned up, Marley checks her email. Her heart pounds as she opens the one new mail from another record label…

… and closes it a few minutes later.

Quinn notices. "Did you…?"

"No." She bites on her lower lip. "They emailed, but it was just a form letter saying they've filled all their vacancies."

"I'm so sorry."

"Thanks."

"... You know what? Let's go out and do something."

Marley blinks. "Huh?"

Quinn's idea of doing something turns out to be driving her car. Marley surrenders her car keys bemusedly, letting Quinn take the wheel. "Where are we going?" she asks just as they pull out of the driveway.

"You'll see," says Quinn.

Marley rests her chin on her hand, looking out the window. Excitement flutters low in her belly despite the disappointment of the email. Gradually, the scenery outside morphs from urban to rural.

"Isn't this the way to your place?"

"Our place," corrects Quinn, sounding distracted as she makes a turn.

It occurs to Marley then that she's heard Quinn refer to it as such before – albeit being in such a small and broken voice that she didn't pay it much attention. A thrill of excitement shoots through Marley's body when she hears the place she's always thought of as Quinn's, be referred to as theirs, and she grins widely.

When Quinn pulls up into the space. Marley turns to her. "Okay. Why here?"

Quinn points at the black car parked in the corner. "We were supposed to pick my car up, weren't we?"

"Oh, right." She'd completely forgotten. Her girlfriend, however, doesn't seem to be in any hurry to leave. She kills the engine, leaving the keys in the ignition, and gets out of the car. Marley is quick to follow.

Quinn leans against the compact black car, hands in the pockets of her sundress. A wind picks up, ruffling her bangs. "Did I ever tell you how I got this car?" she asks abruptly.

"No?" Marley mimics her casual position against the car, but turns so her front presses against the warm metal. She rests her elbows on the roof.

"I used to drive a red Camaro," she says casually. "A gift from my parents for being the youngest-ever captain of the Cheerios. It was completely totaled in the wreck, of course." Quinn brushes hair out of her eyes. "After the doctors said there was a chance I'd never walk again, my mom used a chunk of her life savings to buy this for me because she'd read somewhere that it was easy for wheelchair-bound people to drive… and it was the furthest thing from that red Camaro she could find."

Marley doesn't say anything.

"She got it second-hand because it was the only way she could afford it. Turns out, being married to Russell Fabray means that you don't get much stuff of your own." Quinn shrugs carelessly. "I know she loves me – in her own way. Sure, it's twisted and weird, but it's just how she is."

"You're nothing like her, if that's what you're worried about."

Quinn tilts her head to the side. "Am I?"

"You don't need me to tell you that."

"The same way I don't need you to put so much of yourself into being here for me." She glances at her car. "We need to drop this off at my mom's."

Marley nods. "I'll be right behind you."

Her hands are tense on the wheel the entire drive back to Quinn's house. Marley can't help but feel nervous, even though it's a short visit and Judy Fabray might not even be at home anyway.

She stops on the kerb, getting out of her car as Quinn pulls into the driveway. As she gets closer, she sees Quinn run a hand through her hair.

"I didn't bring my house key out," Quinn calls sheepishly. Even though her tone is light, Marley's known her long enough to sense the tension holding Quinn's spine taut like a wire stretched to breaking point.

"That's fine," she says. "For the best, even. Uh, you could slip the car key in the door slot? Or the mailbox?"

"Oh, yeah. I think the door is a better idea. She'll find it when she checks the mail tomorrow morning." Quinn heads up the path to the trim front door of the Fabray house… sw

… which swings open when she approaches. "Quinn," says Judy Fabray, "you came home."

"Mom," says Quinn stiffly. She looks just as taken aback as Marley feels.

Marley takes quick strides so she's standing just behind Quinn; her hand rests briefly on Quinn's arm to let her know she's there. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Fabray."

Judy barely pays her any attention. "Have you thought about our conversation earlier? I truly am sorry, Quinn; I've been a terrible mother to you all these years."

"Yes, I've given it some thought." Quinn says quietly. "I don't think you're a terrible mother, Mom, but this is hardly the conversation we should be having right now. I'm not ready."

"But you're…"

"I'm only here to return my car." She holds out the car keys over Judy's hand and lets go; Judy's fingers automatically close around them. "I'll talk to you later. Goodbye, Mom." Quinn spins on her heel.

Marley and Judy are left to stare at each other. Marley mutters a quick, awkward goodbye before following Quinn back to the car. She manages to unlock it so Quinn can slide into the passenger seat.

Before she starts the engine, she rests her hand on the white-knuckled grip Quinn has on her thigh. "Quinn, are you alright?"

Quinn leans back in her seat and heaves a sigh. "I probably look better than I feel."

"I don't think you've ever looked like crap in your life."

"Stick around and you might be surprised." She does smile, the quirking of the corner of her mouth. "Let's go."

"I'm proud of you," Marley tells her.

Quinn tilts her head to the side, one eyebrow arched, a Mona Lisa-esque smile on her lips.

Once they arrive home, Quinn gets out of the car and heads inside before Marley can say a word.

Marley blows out a breath through her teeth, slouching in the car seat. She really isn't built for emotional rollercoasters of this magnitude, but she is tough. She intends to hang in there for as long as it takes, as long as Quinn needs her.

Killing the engine, she locks the car and goes in. "Quinn?"

There's nothing to point her to Quinn's whereabouts. Marley heads upstairs to change into something more comfy. From her bedroom window, she spots Quinn standing in the back garden.

Curious, she goes downstairs.

Quinn has her back to the house. The screen door makes a noise when Marley closes it behind her, and it causes Quinn to turn so her head's in profile.

"I didn't know you smoke," says Marley. Her eyes travel from the plume of smoke leaving the cigarette in Quinn's hand, to the lazy wisps visible when she exhales.

"Came with the pink hair and ripped fishnets," quips Quinn. She lifts it back to her lips. "I started smoking to fit in better with the group of girls under the bleachers. These days, I only smoke when I'm stressed." Blowing out more smoke, she adds with a wry smile: "I think I've earned this one."

Marley can only nod. Her eyes follow the smoke as it climbs upward and dissipates completely. "Yeah."

"You should go in first. I'll be a while," says Quinn.

"No, I'm fine." Marley stands a little more than an arm's length away. She doesn't like the smell, how it clings to her clothes; she remembers a time when she would search for vacant bathrooms to purge in, and how they invariably stank of cigarette smoke. "You're brushing your teeth before you kiss me, though."

Quinn chuckles. "Yes, ma'am."

Her phone rings, disrupting the moment. Quinn checks caller ID and her frown loosens. "God, I thought it was S," she says, and hits answer. "Hi, Britt. No, you're not disturbing anything…"

Marley signals at her that she's going in; Quinn waves, but she's clearly distracted as she continues her conversation with Brittany.

Back inside, she pours herself some water and wanders into the living room. The TV plays unwatched as white noise to distract her from her thoughts, to little avail. Marley takes out her phone to keep her hands occupied.

"Hey."

She puts her phone down on the sofa, sitting up straight. "Hi."

"So – I hate to make it sound like I'm abandoning you, but… Brittany asked me to meet her at the Lima Bean in half an hour."

Marley frowns. "Why are you putting it that way? I'm not the boss of you, Quinn; of course you should go out. I mean – she's your friend." She rises from the couch, kisses Quinn's cheek, ignoring the smell of smoke. "Go on."

"You could come along."

"Brittany's not dumb. If she wants to talk to me, she'd have asked you to bring me along. I'm guessing she wants to talk to you alone," says Marley with a smile. "Besides… we talked plenty, earlier."

Quinn shakes her head. "This is weird."

"It's only weird if we make it weird." Marley takes Quinn's hand, presses her car keys into it. "Bring me back an iced coffee, okay?"

"You're okay being alone at home…?"

Marley shrugs. "You know me," she says. "Staying in with a good book is almost my idea of heaven." She strokes the side of Quinn's face. "Hey. What's with that frown?"

"I don't know what I've done to have someone like you," mumbles Quinn, catching Marley's hand with hers and squeezing it.

"Quinn, it's going out for coffee with a friend. If we get married, there'll be plenty of times when you'll want to go out with friends and I'll want to stay home, vice versa. It's perfectly normal." She stops talking when she sees Quinn's expression change.

"Married?"

She feels her cheeks burn. "If. The possibility of which. I mean, people go into relationships with the end goal of finding a life partner and marriage is just part of that... " Marley trails off. "Please say something."

Quinn nods. "Okay. So…"

"So…"

"I'll be back later. I'll call you."

Once Quinn's left, Marley slumps on the couch with a groan. It's ironic how she was the one who talked about not making things weird, and then… "Open mouth, insert foot," she mutters aloud.

She's twenty-two, for goodness' sake. She's never had a relationship last more than a year – she and Quinn have only been dating for a few months. All Marley knows is that she loves Quinn, and that it's too soon to know if she can be in love with Quinn. And, really… she does love Quinn, but her girlfriend doesn't have the best track record with commitment. It makes Marley feel horrible to think the worst of Quinn, but it's part of her; she loves every bit of what makes up Quinn Fabray.

It feels strange to be thinking about marriage when she was having irrational jealous thoughts about her girlfriend's old crush not too long ago.

Marley flings an arm over her face. She really should talk to someone, watch TV, read a book… anything but let her thoughts run wild.

Her mom senses she's not up to explaining why Quinn isn't joining them for dinner, and why she looks as though someone ran over her dog. All she does is direct Marley towards a cutting board and knife, and set several large onions on the board. "Stir-fry for dinner tonight?" she asks, and Marley nods.

She normally hates cutting onions, but she also doesn't know what she's feeling exactly. Onion-induced tears seem to be the closest to what she's going through now emotionally, however. Marley dips her head, sniffles loudly.

Millie looks over from where she's cutting up bok choy. "That's right," she says, "let it all out."

"It's the onions, Mom" says Marley thickly.

"I know, honey."

They make too much food. Millie tuts and says something about having an off day at estimating portions, but Marley can't help but notice that the amount leftover is just about enough for another person.

It makes her smile. No matter what happens, what changes between her and Quinn, she'll always have a home with the Roses.

Marley goes up to her room, but she doesn't go to bed. She opens the window just enough for her to be able to squeeze through, and crawls out onto the roof. The night is a little chilly, but the first stars are just about visible, and she thinks it might clear up enough to spot a few constellations.

She reaches back inside for the blanket and a pillow from under the window seat, spreading the blanket on the roof tiles and lying on it. Marley tucks the pillow under her head and takes a deep breath. Ordinarily, she'd come out here in the daytime when she wanted to enjoy a book uninterrupted by chores, or just find a quiet place to think. This is the first time she's outside at night.

Looking up at the night sky reminds her of the night near the railyard, years ago; staring at the moon through the sun-hatch of Quinn's car. Of a time when they were only friends, and her future was a lot brighter than the moon.

Marley runs her hand through her hair, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. The roof is still warm from the sun, and the worn old blanket smells of home and comfort. Her mom was right; crying – even onion-induced crying – cleared her emotions somewhat and calmed her enough to be able to think clearly.

She's been Quinn's emotional support for almost as long as they've known each other – ironically, since it was Quinn reaching out to her that sparked their friendship. She's made an effort to let Quinn know she isn't dealing with this crisis alone with her usual methods; through touch, words.

Marley wonders if it's enough. The memory of the afternoon on the couch comes to mind unbidden; she flushes scarlet.

"Marley? Your mom – oh my god!" Quinn dashes forward, throwing the window wide open. Marley, startled, sits up. "Why are you on the roof?"

"It's fine! It's perfectly safe – please don't scream," says Marley in an urgent whisper. "I've been coming out to the roof ever since high school; my mom doesn't know I'm here." She crawls over to the window. "I didn't hear you get back."

"You could slip and fall. It's so dangerous. Please come back in."

"Fine." She climbs back into her room, crossing it in quick strides to shut the door and turn on the light. "You missed dinner. Are you hungry?"

Quinn shakes her head. "After coffee, Finn joined us with some food."

"... how'd that work out for you?"

She makes a face, and some of the tension in the room evaporates. "Terribly. It was so awkward."

"I'm sorry that happened."

Quinn takes a tentative step towards her, and halts. "Are you okay? Your mom said you were tired, and you went to bed early." Her eyes flick to the window and back.

"I'm fine. I like sitting on the roof; it's my thinking spot when I don't want to be disturbed."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"For what?" A surprised laugh escapes Marley. "I don't mean to be rude, but… you've been doing a lot of apologising recently, and most of the time I don't get why – unless you meant startling me just now."

"Well – that too, but mostly… for not being as supportive of you as I should have." Quinn's expression turns serious. "Marley, I know you've got a lot on your mind with the job offers…"

"I don't want to talk about it," she prevaricates.

"I understand. But all this drama with me and my mom… it can't be helping at all." She closes the remaining distance between them so they're almost nose to nose. "I know I take you for granted a lot of the time. This was supposed to be your trip to relax before you started your career."

"I want to be here for you," insists Marley.

"And I appreciate that," says Quinn, equally as firmly. "You know… Brittany reminded me of just how much you've been here for me. Listen, Marley… we've still got a few days left here before we go back to New York and reality. I think it's about time I'm here for you."

Really, Quinn shouldn't say such things to her when she's in this frame of mind. Smiling, Marley kisses her. Quinn doesn't hesitate to kiss her back; her hands settle on Marley's hips and grip the fabric tightly.

"I love you." She takes Quinn's face in both hands, bringing her in for a deeper, more passionate kiss. One hand slides down to the small of Quinn's back to draw their bodies flush together.

"Marley, what are you…?" She trails off when Marley pecks her lips gently, then starts kissing down her neck. Quinn moans and tips her head back.

She turns them around and walks them forward until her knee hits the side of her bed. Marley gently pushes at Quinn's shoulders, guiding her to sit down, tugging at the neck of her shirt to kiss the bared skin.

"Marley… your mom," mutters Quinn.

"I don't care." She rests a knee outside of Quinn's hip so she can move closer without crushing her girlfriend. Marley nips at Quinn's collarbone, eliciting a gasp. "I want you now," she whispers, and she sees a shiver pass through Quinn. "Please, Quinn."

"Are you sure?" She looks uncertain, teeth worrying her lower lip – but her eyes are dark with arousal, and Marley can't think past wanting that mouth on her.

"I'm ready."

Hands curl around her shoulders, and tug her down. They topple onto the bed. Lips start at the base of her throat, the sensation making her arch her back. Marley moans, letting pleasure sink her, letting Quinn take control. "You're so beautiful," says Quinn, and she flips them over so Marley's sprawled on her back.

"Quinn."

Quinn's fingers toy with the hem of Marley's T-shirt, slowly dragging the material upwards. Her eyes flutter shut, and she struggles to open them again. Marley wants every moment of this imprinted in her memory. The sight of Quinn's tongue on her chest causes her heartbeat to run wild – and then those pink lips close around a nipple, and her mind short-circuits.

"Please."

There's what sounds like a chuckle, which also sends pleasure thrumming through her body. Fingers slide over her panties. Marley pants – and gasps when they brush her clit. Her hips thrust into Quinn. Quinn's tongue is doing wonderful things to her breast, just as her fingers start a delicious rhythm over her clit.

"Ohh, yes, Quinnnn – "

She comes hard, gasping out her orgasm, holding on to Quinn for dear life. "I barely touched you," comes Quinn's voice from somewhere above her, sounding amused.

Marley opens her eyes. She doesn't have the words to respond, letting her hands communicate what she's feeling right now. She raises herself a little so her hands can reach all the way around Quinn's back and undo her bra; meanwhile, she presses kisses to Quinn's throat. She's still breathing hard, running on the high of her orgasm and the desire to touch Quinn.

When she sits up proper, Quinn is straddling her lap, letting her take advantage of their proximity. Marley tugs at Quinn's shirt, and she obliges. Marley doesn't waste any time, resting her hands on Quinn's hips, kissing the bared skin of her stomach, tugging away the undone bra.

Quinn sucks in a breath audibly when Marley cups her breast, rolling the nipple in her fingers like Quinn did to hers.

Her chest rises and falls rapidly. Marley steadies her the best she can, then her mouth covers Quinn's other nipple and suckles. She takes her time, watching Quinn's face closely, gauging what she likes.

Quinn's mouth drops open, letting a soft "oh" escape. Her eyelids drift to half-mast. Marley relishes this newfound control she has over her girlfriend.

Finally, she turns her attention lower. "Yes," hisses Quinn when Marley's hand brushes soft wet heat.

"I don't know what I'm doing," whispers Marley.

"Just don't stop," grits out Quinn, who trails off into a low moan as Marley finds her clit, and traces small circles. "God, yes. Inside."

Marley leaves a kiss on Quinn's chest, and turns her attention upwards – and downwards. She enters Quinn with two fingers, relishing the moan Quinn makes. Her girlfriend's head falls forward onto her shoulder, breath hot on skin; her hands find Marley's shoulders, and hold on tight.

She kisses Quinn. "You're so beautiful," she says, and thrusts. Quinn's hips meet the movement of her hand, and Marley feels rather than hears her girlfriend's rapid breathing.

"Faster. Yes…"

She's learned – in a very short time – that Quinn likes pain mixed with her pleasure. Marley turns her head to nip at Quinn's neck, taking care to soothe each press of teeth with her tongue. The movement of her hand doesn't stop, so by the time she's traversed the column of Quinn's neck, the woman on top of her is practically sobbing with frustration.

"My god, Marley, just stop fucking teasing me and – " She cuts herself off, body tightening as she comes, a soft curse escaping her lips. The grip she has on Marley's shoulders tightens painfully.

Marley kisses her again, pleased with her work, and nuzzles her forehead. "I love you."

Quinn makes a soft sound. The tips of her fingers stroke Marley's cheek, and then she shifts to lie fully on the bed; Marley following suit. "Not that I'm complaining, but… I thought you weren't ready."

"I, um… I know." She fidgets with the bedsheet, and quells the slight pang of disappointment that Quinn didn't say it back. "But I don't regret it, though."

"Me neither. I'm just surprised that we, uhm, our first time was in your room with your mom down the hall. When I imagine it, it was a lot less… spontaneous."

Marley shrugs. "The only thing I knew for certain was there wouldn't be rose petals and candles. Like, overdone romance cliches." She glances up at Quinn's face; a grin spreads across her face. "I think this is way better."

"So do I."

She snuggles closer. "I'm really happy right now. I kinda get what the hype is all about now, I didn't know it could feel like this."

Arms wrap around her, Quinn's soft chuckle reverberating in her hair. "You're adorable."

She wakes shortly after dawn. Marley lies on her side, watching Quinn's back. She gets it now, all those contradictions about love; being simultaneously terrified and confident, content and anxious, restless and settled.

In the early light, the whitish healed scars over Quinn's back are visible. Marley feels privileged to be seeing this side of Quinn, literally; a side that she doesn't show many people. Her vulnerability is something Quinn guards fiercely, and yet has gifted to Marley.

Marley sidles closer. Her fingertip hovers over the top of Quinn's left shoulder, poised over a jagged white line. After a pause, it skates across a shoulder blade and the top of an elegant spine, following the scar.

Quinn stirs, but doesn't wake.

She grows bolder. The next scar she traces runs down Quinn's spine and branches off towards her waist, disappearing under the blankets. The precise line tells her that it's from surgery and not twisted metal. Marley's thumb traces the mark.

"... What are you doin'?" asks Quinn, voice heavy with sleep.

"Admiring you," says Marley.

"Nothin' to admire."

"You're wrong." The scars are Quinn personified; evidence of many battles fought and won, of surviving and growing stronger. She kisses the back of Quinn's shoulder, and moves up to nuzzle Quinn's neck.

Quinn rolls onto her back. She looks adorably befuddled. "Where is all this coming from?" she asks as she obligingly kisses Marley back.

"Nowhere. I was just thinking." Quinn's front is relatively scar-free, apart from the mark where the car door cut into the side of her arm; the scar that extended to the back of her shoulder, which Marley was exploring. She flops onto the pillow so her lips brush Quinn's shoulder. "You're beautiful."

"So you keep telling me," answers Quinn lightly. She turns her head so she's facing Marley, and lifts a hand so the knuckles caress Marley's cheek. "As though you aren't just as beautiful yourself."

Marley smiles. "I like telling you." Her fingers wrap around Quinn's. "I like being here with you, like this."

"I never knew you were such a romantic."

"Me neither, until you." She raises Quinn's marked arm to her lips, and kisses the scar.

Quinn's smile never wavers, or loses its gentle affection. "You're something else, you know."

"I'm aware. Is that a good thing?"

"Oh yes," says Quinn. She rolls on her side so she can cup Marley's face and kiss her. "A very good thing."

Marley sighs into the kiss. She feels on fire. Her body presses against Quinn's, and Marley's free hand grasps Quinn's waist.

She pushes off with the other hand, rolling them so Quinn lies flat on her back. Marley loves seeing her girlfriend like this. She wastes no time immediately trailing fingers along the inside of Quinn's thigh.

"Yes," moans Quinn, spreading her legs wider.

This is fast becoming her favourite sight; Quinn, flushed and wanting. Her fingers quickly find wetness and rub. Quinn's eyes flutter shut, a low sound passing her lips. Marley nips at her neck because she knows how sensitive she is there.

"Faster."

She obliges. As much as she's tempted to tease Quinn, now's not the time for it. She knows Quinn's close when her grip on Marley's arms tighten, and she holds on tight as Quinn gasps out her orgasm.

Marley laughs softly, kissing Quinn's closed eyelids. "I could do this all day."

"Your stamina terrifies me, and I was coached by Sue Sylvester," replies Quinn without opening her eyes. "Frannie swore she used top-secret Mossad training techniques."

"What? No, no, not the whole – sex bit," blurts out Marley, blushing crimson. "I mean, being here with you and… that was a disaster." The last is muttered to herself.

Quinn chuckles. "I was teasing. I know what you meant, but I also think you're the most adorable person I've ever met." She combs away the hair stuck to Marley's brow, then kisses her forehead.

They were expecting Ed to come pick them up from LaGuardia, but Marley can't say she's surprised when she spots Rachel waiting outside baggage claim. "Oh my God! I've missed you guys so much!" she exclaims, throwing her arms around Quinn, then Marley, then back to Quinn. "Are you alright? We're sorry we couldn't come down for you."

"Hi, Rach." Quinn gently unwinds Rachel's grip from around her neck. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Where's Ed?"

"At home, probably. He was ever so gracious to lend Santana and me his car." She leads the way towards the pick up point.

"You and S hijacked his car?"

"Borrowed it," insists Rachel. "I felt that it was important we talk about what happened, Quinn, because you know as well as I do that you're not the most forthcoming about your feelings, and this way you can't run from this discussion like I know you're inclined to do."

Marley nods. Quinn rolls her eyes.

Ed's black Ford sits towards the end of the airport, the boot popping open when they approach. Santana steps out of the car, pushing up her sunglasses, and looks them up and down. "You two finally did the dirty. Wanky."

"Santana!"

"I mean, congratulations."

"Santana! Either comment was hardly appropriate!"

"What? It's done wonders, look at them." She points at Quinn. "She's wayyy less uptight with the stick removed from her ass," her finger moves to Marley, "and she no longer gives off that grade school vibe."

Quinn arches an eyebrow at her friend. Marley wants to sink into the ground and disappear forever.

Rachel rolls her eyes, muttering under her breath. With a smile, Quinn starts loading their luggage into the boot; Marley goes to help. "Our friends are insane," Quinn comments, sounding almost fond.

"I still can't get used to it."

Quinn laughs. She kisses Marley's cheek, and they get into the back seat of the car. Rachel and Santana are still bickering even as Santana pulls out onto the road.

"And here I thought you were actually worried about Quinn. I love you, but sometimes you can be so insensitive."

"Hey, I am worried about Tubbers. This is just how I roll; I thought you'd know that, after all these years."

"I do! I don't know what I was expecting, maybe for you to demonstrate a little tact?"

Marley leans over to Quinn. "It sounds serious."

Quinn shrugs. "They'll be fine." Her hand rests on Marley's; the younger girl smiles and entwines their fingers. She looks very much like a cat; sleek, and with a content smile lingering on her lips.

Maybe she's more than a little lovesick, but Marley thinks that her girlfriend is even more beautiful than usual. "If you say so." She cuddles into Quinn's side. "I love you."

There hasn't been any important mail for her in the week she's been gone. Stan tells her the news in his kindest, most sympathetic tones before he's off to his new job – which was waiting for him to graduate from school.

Gavin's working in his family's moving company, Andie's packing up to move in with her boyfriend in Queens because it's closer to her new job. Both boys have assured Marley that with their combined incomes, they're more than capable of covering Andie's share of the rent.

For now, she has Oscar and his restaurant. It's honestly not a bad place; her meals are free, and he pays her generously. But she continues to send out job applications, and checks her email religiously in hopes of breaking the deadlock.

Atlantic doesn't seem inclined towards letting her go. They extend the job offer until the end of the week, when they'll be embarking on a few major projects, and need to finalise their staff. However, her ex-boss makes it very clear that they're doing her a big favour because of how keen they are to have her onboard; there are many other talented young graduates who are more than happy to take the position.

Marley understands. She ends the call, puts the phone down, and stares up at the ceiling for a long time. The shadows on the walls lengthen by the time she picks up her phone again. "Hey," she says when the line connects.

"Hey, Marley," says Quinn warmly. "What's up?"

"Nothing much. We're still on for tomorrow, aren't we?"

"Mmhmm. Why? Did something come up?"

"... Nope. Just wanted to double check." Marley adjusts her grip on the phone. "See you tomorrow morning."

Marley shows up bright and early. It takes a while for the door of Quinn's apartment to open, but it does, revealing a bleary-looking Quinn. "Hey," she says brightly, kissing Quinn's cheek.

"Mmmph. What time is it?"

"Eight." She lets herself in – Quinn is too sleepy to bother with niceties – and starts setting up the coffee machine. "Get dressed."

"Where are we going?" Quinn sighs with contentment when the coffee machine hums to life. She plops down at the kitchen table, angling her body so she can rest the side of her head against Marley's shoulder. She yawns widely.

Marley kisses her head. "It's a surprise. Don't fall back asleep." She loves how affectionate Quinn is when she's not fully awake.

"Coffee's not done yet," mumbles Quinn, snuggling in further.

She savours the atmosphere; Quinn tucked into her side, warm and drowsy. The sound – and increasingly, the smell – of coffee. Blonde hair obscuring the left side of her vision. She'll hold this memory forever. "You need to let me get the coffee," she tells Quinn, who grunts in displeasure but moves away.

When Marley sets the full mug in front of her girlfriend, Quinn seems to perk up. "Mmm," she says.

"Perhaps this'll be enough to get you through the shower without drowning," teases Marley.

"Perhaps."

Quinn returns, freshly showered and dressed, and considerably more awake. "Is this okay?" she asks, gesturing down at her sundress (of course, thinks Marley), neatly belted at the waist.

"Sure."

She snorts. "Eyes up here," scolds Quinn playfully, and Marley rolls her eyes.

"I wasn't even looking in your direction!"

"Even worse." Quinn takes her second mug of coffee – prepared for her while she was in the shower. "So, what have you got planned for today?"

"It's a surprise," repeats Marley patiently, "and if I didn't tell you when you were all sleepy and adorable, I'm certainly not going to now that you're lucid."

Quinn pouts. It's a mannerism she's almost certainly picked up from Rachel, because it looks ridiculous on her, and Marley bursts out laughing. "A hint," she concedes. "It's someplace you're very familiar with."

"... This isn't a set up for something X-rated, is it?"

"No!" Marley groans. "Wow, you've been spending way too much time with Santana."

"I can't help it when you're being annoyingly mysterious."

Marley stands up. "Finish your coffee," she orders, kissing the top of Quinn's head.

"A picnic in Central Park."

Marley shrugs. "The weather forecast promised unusually warm weather for this time of year, so a spontaneous picnic seemed like a good idea."

"It is." Quinn looks up at her, amused. "So, what's with the blanket?"

Marley shakes out the folded material. "My mom's new hobby."

"That's too pretty to be used as a picnic blanket."

She laughs. "I've got a proper plastic tarp for the grass, don't worry. This is for us. We've got a lot of these now, so I thought we should be out here in comfort." Marley spreads more blankets over the tarp.

The older woman is quick to kick off her shoes and sit down. "I love this," she says, brushing her fingers over the worn fabric.

"Good to hear. Mom made one for you already." Marley joins her, sprawling out fully and stretching her arms over her head. "Wow."

Quinn pokes her side. "I'm starving."

"The basket has snacks," says Marley without opening her eyes.

Quinn pokes her again, harder. "You expect me to go get it?"

"You're the hungry one." Marley fights to keep her face straight; she can practically hear Quinn's ire.

There's silence for a while, then she senses a shadow hovering over her – she gasps, sitting bolt upright, when cold water splashes on her face.

"Thanks for packing an icebox," says Quinn serenely, wiping her hands on her dress and putting the lid back on the icebox, "it was getting a bit hot." She selects a biscuit from the basket, deliberately not meeting Marley's eyes.

Marley splutters. "You evil woman," she says, wiping her face with the sleeve of her shirt.

Quinn finishes the biscuit she was eating. "You brought me out here and then expected me to feed myself. That's completely unacceptable." She reaches for another from the basket.

"Revenge!" Marley tackles Quinn, toppling them sideways onto the blanket; Quinn shrieks in outrage, and then helpless laughter when Marley starts tickling her.

"Stop!" she pleads, pushing at Marley's hands with little success.

"Say you're sorry!"

"But I'm not!"

Marley growls, redoubling her efforts. Quinn is absolutely hopeless at defending herself, mostly because she's ticklish, and Marley doesn't give her a moment's respite.

"Okay! Okay! I surrender!" gasps Quinn in between bouts of laughter. Marley grins, triumphant, and flops face-down on her. "Oof. I couldn't breathe for laughing, and now you wanna squish whatever air left out of my lungs? You're cruel." Despite her words, Quinn hugs her close.

"Mmmhmm. You didn't sound very repentant."

Quinn just smiles. "Can I continue making it up to you now?"

Marley smiles back. "You can try," she says, leaning down to kiss Quinn.

Despite the warm weather, it gets cold fast once the sun sets. They bustle about, packing up their things. "What's next on the agenda, Miss Rose?" asks Quinn.

Marley shrugs. "I hadn't planned that far ahead. I wasn't sure if you'd be tired after spending the whole day out."

"Come back to my place. I'll cook dinner."

"You'll cook?"

"I'll cook," confirms Quinn. "Nothing too fancy; it's getting late, and I'm not sure we have a wide variety of food at my place."

"I'll eat anything you make," says Marley, and Quinn smiles at her.

"Even if it turns out bad?"

"Especially if it turns out bad."

Quinn laughs. "Glad to hear you've got such faith in my cooking."

She smiles back – though it fades quickly. As much as Marley enjoyed the day, it quickly becomes more apparent to herself that it was just a facade to conceal the real reason she wanted to see Quinn – and it's getting harder to convince herself otherwise.

"You're frowning."

Marley looks up.

"Is something bothering you?"

She's been handed an opportunity – or a death sentence – on a silver platter, and she'd be a fool not to take it. "... Quinn, there's something we need to talk about."

It doesn't take long for Quinn to make a guess. "Is it about your job offers?"

Marley nods. "I've been putting it off all day because I just wanted to enjoy today with you."

Quinn catches her hand and squeezes.

"There's only ever been two. I've applied to…" she shrugs helplessly, "maybe fifty places, and I haven't heard back from any of them."

"I'm so sorry."

"Thanks, but… I have to pick one. I've been graduated for close to two months now; I need a real job soon. My loans aren't gonna pay themselves off, and I want to start looking after my mom…"

"I know."

She takes a deep breath. "Atlantic called a couple of days ago. They gave me an ultimatum; I have to give them an answer by tomorrow afternoon."

"Which is…?"

"I'm going to turn them down and take the New York job."

A few emotions flit over Quinn's face in quick succession, then vanish, replaced by stoniness. "... What?"

"It's nearby enough so I won't have moving costs, I can start immediately…" she starts to babble, alarmed by Quinn's reaction.

Quinn lets go of her hand to brush away a lock of her hair. "It's not in your industry." Quinn stares at her. "Marley, I've seen what you can do, and so have they; that's why they're offering you this chance. You have to take their offer."

"And move halfway across the country? Away from everything and everyone? From you?"

Quinn shakes her head. "I can't be everything. You know that."

"I do. Believe me, I've taken it all into serious consideration. While you are one of the most important people in my life, you're not the sole reason I'm staying." Marley reaches for Quinn, who doesn't seem to notice. Stung, Marley lets her hand fall to her side.

"I can't believe you're throwing everything away like that."

"I'm not. I've thought it over…"

"No, you haven't. If you really thought it over, you'd have taken Atlantic's offer immediately." Quinn looks distraught. "Why are you being so dumb, Marley?"

"I'm not! You're talking to me as though I'm a kid, like I don't know what I'm doing!" Marley fumes, hands curled into fists. "It's not like I know what you're doing now. You're trying to push me away like you pushed Rachel away."

Quinn goes white. "What?"

And it's too late to take back her words. Even if she could, however, Marley wasn't raised that way. "You tried to push Rachel away in that stupid, self-sacrificing way you do. It's not like that; I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" challenges Quinn, chin raised. "How do you know? Have you worked a full-time job before?"

"Stop it!"

"No, you stop being a stubborn little girl. Listen to me, just this once." Quinn grabs her by the shoulders. "This has nothing to do with Rachel. I don't care about her. This is about you, and you need to go. It's not just the job and the money; it's a chance for you to meet contacts, to network. Your industry relies on networking, and who you know. Marley… you're so talented; you know that?"

"So are you – you went to two Ivy League schools."

Quinn shakes her head. "Being smart isn't the same as being talented. And you are so talented – you do things with music no one else can. I can't bear watching someone as gifted and hard-working as you wasting your time on a dead-end job." Quinn's voice cracks a little. "It would kill you, and that would kill me."

She knows that all too well; the thought of Rachel staying in Lima as Mrs Finn Hudson is the reason Quinn wears her thin white scars like armour. But she's still angry, and she ignores the warning signs. "You're not brushing me off that easily, Quinn," she says hotly. "Are you that eager to send me on my way?"

Quinn flinches. "What do you mean?"

"I don't understand why you keep pushing away the people you claim to love. Especially after… did last week mean nothing to you?"

"You don't understand," snaps Quinn, clearly hurt.

"Yes, I do. I'm not a child, Quinn."

"Oh yeah? Because right now, you're acting exactly like one," replies Quinn sharply. "You'll be making a huge mistake by not taking Atlantic's offer, Marley. Just like how Rachel was making a huge mistake trying to marry Finn. You said I'm smart, right? Yeah, I'm smart enough to see why this shouldn't even be a hard decision to make." Her mouth twists. "I care about you. That means I want what's best for you, even if it breaks me. Even if it means sending you to the other end of the country."

"You care about me?"

"I do!"

"But you don't love me?"

Quinn stares at her, dumbfounded.

"... Okay." Marley wipes at her face with her sleeve, and goes to pick up the forgotten picnic things. "I… I should go home. I need… it's not you," she interrupts herself, lifting wide and panicked eyes to Quinn's, "I should just…"

"Be alone tonight," finishes Quinn. "I get it." She turns on her heel and leaves without another word.

Making the decision was the easy part. Once she'd decided on Atlantic, everything else falls into line as part of the natural order; arrangements for an apartment, moving costs, plane tickets… She kind of hates that the original offer salary alone is enough that she can afford her own apartment – a real apartment, not just a shared shoebox in a dingy district.

It's completely unsurprising that Unique and Rachel show up after she texts Unique. "Where's Quinn?" is the first question out of Unique.

Marley's lip twists. "I don't know."

"Oh, honey." Unique and Rachel exchange looks, then they split ways; Unique to wrap Marley up in a hug, Rachel to the kitchen. She reappears minutes later with three wine glasses and a bottle opener.

Marley watches, fascinated, as Rachel neatly arranges everything on the table, removes a bottle of wine from the bag on her arm, uncorks it with one smooth movement, and pours a generous portion into each glass. "I've done this way too many times," says Rachel with a shrug, and hands them each a glass. "To embarking on new careers."

"Hear, hear," says Unique. She'd bumped into an editorial assistant from Runway two weeks into her off-off-Broadway musical, and had been persuaded into applying for an intern position at the magazine – which she'd gotten three days ago.

"Im sorry, but I don't feel much like celebrating." She takes a polite sip of her wine – a good Pinot Gris, crisp and refreshing – and sets the glass down. "Wait. Where's Santana?"

Rachel spares her a look. "Where else?"

"Ah."

Unique smiles bracingly. "You made a good decision, Marl. I'm not gonna say it's the right one, but I can tell you it's a pretty damn good one."

"Thanks, Unique." Her best friend is right, she's sure;but but right now she's not in the best mood, and she feels like lashing out at the next person who looks at her wrong. Marley supposes that's the reason why Santana isn't here.

"Drink up." Rachel refills hers and Unique's glasses, then pauses at Marley's. "Marley."

"What?"

"Drink. You'll feel better, trust me."

She does, god help her; next to her mom and Quinn and Unique, Rachel ranks pretty high on the list of people she trusts. But it's the memory of Rachel's presence in her dark thoughts and the conversations she's had with Quinn that spurs her on to finish the contents of her glass.

Unique hoots as Marley grimaces and sets the empty glass down; the hooting increasing in volume when Rachel neatly tops it off with wine.

"You're kidding me."

"Nope," says Rachel, popping the 'p'.

Just to spite her, Marley drinks. Annoyingly, she's right; she does feel a little better. More numb, certainly. Rachel laughs when Marley tells her so.

"God, I feel like I'm back in NYADA again," sighs Rachel. "Getting wasted in someone's apartment."

"Except the wine isn't cheap and horrible." Unique swirls it around in her glass.

"Yeah."

Marley can't take it anymore. "Okay, why are you guys here?"

"To celebrate, of course."

She can't help it; she snorts. Luckily, Unique also snorts at the same time, so the weight of Rachel's disdain is evenly distributed between them. "Despite all the other factors marring this," she says loudly, glaring at them both, "being handpicked for a job is always a cause for celebration."

Marley leans over. "Is she drunk?" she whispers.

"On her way," Unique whispers back. "She's still such a lightweight."

It gives her an idea. There are a few things she has left unexplored, and if she'll be apart from Quinn… Marley sips her wine thoughtfully. Rachel pours herself the last of the bottle, and pulls another from the bag under the table.

"Rachel?"

"Yes?"

"Could I talk to you for a bit?"

Rachel nods, eyes wide and bright. "Certainly." Over her shoulder, Marley silently communicates with her eyes to Unique, willing her to understand.

Her best friend does. There's the eyebrow raise and slight incline of her head that means she'll have a lot to explain later, but Unique reaches for the TV remote.

Marley clicks her door shut. Rachel sits on the bed. Her cheeks are a little flushed. "What did you want to talk about? If it's about long-distance relationships…"

"Uh, not really."

"Oh."

Marley joins her on the bed. "I wanted to ask you some things about Quinn."

Rachel darts a surprised look at her sideways. "Quinn? What, exactly, if you don't mind my asking?"

"... You know as well as I do that Quinn is… very guarded about her past?"

Rachel snorts. "That's putting it lightly, but yes."

"The incident in Lima, and talking to Judy, shed a lot of insight on Quinn's childhood and upbringing. Things I think I may never have learned about her." Marley places her hands palm-down on the bedspread. "She's opened up to me before, but I didn't… I never knew it was that bad."

"It's a small miracle she turned out as wonderful she did," says Rachel with a fond smile.

She agrees completely. "There's something else, though, that I want to know. And I'm guessing that it's even more unlikely that Quinn'll ever open up about that, and before I… I'd like to know."

Even tipsy, Rachel has always been adept at reading between the lines. Marley watches as her expression goes from intrigued to complete understanding, and a little wistfulness. "You're asking about me and her," says Rachel after a pause.

"Yes." Perhaps she's drunk too, because Marley can't believe she asked something like that so blatantly.

Rachel smooths the palms of her hands over her slightly creased skirt. "I was not expecting that, to be honest with you, but your curiosity is perfectly understandable. What do you want to know?"

"If she was so adamant that you not marry Finn, why did she agree to go to your wedding?"

Rachel starts. "I… you don't mince your words, do you?"

Marley returns the weak smile.

"Quinn is… she's a paradox." Rachel chews thoughtfully on her lower lip. "She's thrown up the strongest walls to hide the most vulnerable heart. Quinn knew I was making a mistake, but she couldn't bear seeing me unhappy because she liked me romantically… at least, that's how I interpreted her actions."

"Didn't you guys talk about it?"

Rachel snorts. "Are we talking about the same person? This is Quinn Fabray, after all." She shakes her head, smiling. "But to answer your question, not really. Things were already… difficult, when Quinn eventually confessed her feelings for me," admits Rachel. "I wasn't as mature as I am now – "

Marley coughs. Rachel shoots her a dirty look.

"– and I wasn't as tactful or understanding as she needed. Our friendship almost didn't survive the fallout." She presses her lips together. "It was my fault. Nearly all of it. I should have seen it coming, with her family the way it is, and the way she treated me in school."

"I'm sure that's not true."

"I was caught off-guard. Never in a million years would I have expected Quinn Fabray to like me. Me, loud and obnoxious Rachel Berry. And we both had a bit to drink that night, and I had this thing with both Brody Weston and Cassie July – " She cuts herself off, and clears her throat. "Anyway. I broke her heart. She'd probably never been rejected before, and by the first woman she'd worked up the courage to come out to…" Rachel makes a face.

"Oh."

Her gaze slides from across the room to rest on Marley. "You're a lot like me, Marley. Which is why I think she tried not to let herself fall for you."

Marley rests her head in her hands. Rachel pats her elbow.

"My turn to ask a question?"

"I didn't know we were taking turns."

The older woman shrugs. "Then you don't mind if I ask?"

"Is it about Atlantic?" asks Marley dejectedly.

Rachel chuckles. "Yeah."

"Go ahead."

"Did you actually want the New York job?"

"It's not about wanting the job," says Marley reflexively. "It was a decision I made after weighing the pros and cons."

"Not answering the question."

"Yes, I did."

She sighs. "You're not going to like this, but I agree with Quinn on Atlantic. Because she's right," says Rachel loudly, cutting off the protest on Marley's lips. "She is sending you on your way like she tried to do with me. Like she always does for the person she loves most in the world." With a last pat, she adds: "I think that's enough for one night, and one bottle of wine. Come on; we left Unique alone with all the booze."

"Yes, alright." She's in even less of a celebratory mood, but she follows Rachel anyway.

Unique has a glazed look in her eyes as she watches two women bicker onscreen. "Real Housewives of New Jersey?" Rachel says after a glance at the TV. "I love this show!"

"Oh, awesome!" Unique flaps her hand at her. "Come and explain this whole thing Danielle and Caroline have with each other."

Rachel does; but only after a quick glance at Marley, who nods.

On the pretence of pouring her more wine, Unique whispers, "You're telling me everything", and stares.

"Of course," replies Marley.

"Now."

"... Oh."

Grinning, Unique stands up and drags Marley to the bathroom. Rachel, halfway through a fresh bottle of wine, doesn't seem to notice. Once inside, Unique locks the door and practically pins her against the wall in her excitement. "Well?" she asks.

"Babe," says Marley, gently pushing at Unique's shoulder, "there's plenty of room in here."

She scoffs. "Talk."

"Rachel thinks Quinn was right."

"Quinn is right."

Marley sighs. "Et tu, Unique?"

"Sweetie. You know I love you, but…"

"But?"

"But you made the right choice, picking Atlantic." She slings an arm around Marley's shoulder. "Though you really didn't have to piss off most of the people around you in the process, especially the one you're dating."

Marley tips her head, resting it against Unique's shoulder. "Thanks for the support."

"If you mean hard truths, then yeah." She hugs Marley. "I got your back."

"Do you think she'll forgive me before I…?" Marley trails off.

Unique stares at her. "Of course she'll – Marl, that woman's crazy about you. You know that."

"Yeah. I do."

"Even though you were a teensy bit irrational." She holds up her finger and thumb, the tips a fraction apart. "Just a teensy."

Marley groans. "I appreciate the diplomacy, but I know I was completely off the rails."

"Happens to the best of us," replies Unique staunchly.

She hangs around outside Quinn's apartment block, sneakers scuffing the concrete pavement. She inhales sharply; Quinn's right, she has been acting like a child. She had been fixated on the wrong part of their relationship.

"Figured I'd find you out here, getting ready to grovel," Santana calls.

Marley looks away, ashamed. "Yeah."

"Aww, you're no fun." Santana strides up to her. "Rachel called. Said this is where you'd be headed. You're embarrassingly mature for your age, y'know?"

"So I've been told."

"I hope she bites your head off." Santana gives her a look of such malicious glee, it sends a shiver down Marley's spine. "If she doesn't, I volunteer for the job."

She tries not to think of it. "Do you think she'll forgive me?" asks Marley tentatively.

Santana smiles mirthlessly. "Personally, I wouldn't. But Tubbers has gotten ridiculously soft over time. Though," she adds, her expression going flinty, "I'd love to see you try and apologise to her; that alone is punishment enough, I'm thinking."

"Oh."

"You know how I said a little something something, a while back, about deliberately hurting Q…?"

Marley tries not to let her fear show. "I remember."

"I just got done patching her up after last night with vodka. Right now, I'm seriously debating between letting Rachel have her way with you, or Snix. As in, who gets a go first." Santana's eyes narrow to slits. "You go in there, you fix everything you broke. Capiche?"

"Completely."

Santana shoots her a last intimidating look before stepping aside for Marley to pass.

Author's Notes: The chapter title comes from Rainy Season by Mamamoo. Full notes for this chapter to be posted to this story's page on my Tumblr; hit me up at yumi-michiyo.