Author's Notes: It's finally complete. Oh god. Grateful as always to Mike Ownby for his clean-up work and turning a shit ending into a great ending (and talking me into something else – he's been busy). The rest of the notes can be found at the end.
Epilogue: tell the world that we finally got it all right
"How do I look?"
Quinn scoffs. "You look as beautiful as always. Now stop fidgeting." She catches hold of Marley's hands to stop their nervous tic.
Marley lets out a high-pitched giggle. "What if I don't win?"
Quinn fixes her with a look. "You're going to win." It softens a fraction almost immediately after, and she teases a loose wisp of hair from Marley's cheek. "But I honestly couldn't care less if you win or not; I'm already so proud of you for being nominated tonight." She kisses the spot where the hair had rested unhurriedly; her lips linger, making Marley's pulse race.
"But I'm not really being nominated; it's for a song on Trent's album…"
"A song on Trent's album which you wrote, and were given sole songwriting credit for in the album," says Quinn dryly.
"Well, yeah, but…"
Quinn interrupts her nervous rambling with a kiss. Marley's lips part, mouth suddenly dry, train of thought gone. But just as she's starting to melt into Quinn, her girlfriend is pulling away. Marley thinks she may be aware of the effect she has; but the little smirk is gone in the next instant, and the only part of Quinn in contact with her is their hands.
"Come on, we'll be late. They won't hold the award for you when you win."
"If I win," Marley corrects her.
Quinn gives her her best Head Cheerio smile. "When you win," she repeats, eyes glinting with conviction.
Marley rolls her eyes playfully, and lets herself be led outside.
"This is pretty nice," comments Brittany. Her head swivels left and right, taking in the other people streaming into the hall.
Gabe slouches in his seat. "It's no Grammys, that's for sure."
Trent groans and leans forward, smacking the back of Gabe's head.
"Ow!"
"Personally, I think it's great that Marley's finally getting the fame and recognition she deserves," says Trent.
"Trent, you're nominated for an award yourself," mutters Marley. "Has it slipped your mind?"
He shrugs. "I've had my turn in the spotlight," he says loftily, and Gabe snorts. "It's about time our dear Rosie gets her day."
Finn nods. "Yeah, totally." He turns in his seat to flash Marley a cheesy grin and a thumbs up. "You got this."
She smiles back weakly. Her stomach hasn't felt this unsettled since she was much younger, and wracked with guilt over eating too many calories in a day.
A squeeze of her hand brings Marley back to reality. "You're fine," Quinn reminds her. "Breathe, baby."
Marley exhales – or more accurately, the air whooshes out of her in a surprised gasp/laugh. "Did you just call me baby?"
Quinn laughs. "Yeah. I did." She pats Marley's cheek affectionately. "Baby."
"I – wow. I don't know what to say."
"Please don't tell S. Or Rachel. I'll never hear the end of it." Quinn gives her a sheepish little smile. "I'm still a bit shocked I said that, even."
Marley stares at her.
"You looked like you were gonna pass out from nerves earlier, sweetheart. Anything to distract you, right?"
"Anything, huh?" she chuckles.
Quinn rolls her eyes. "I can see what you're thinking, and no. I wasn't thinking of that, you pervert. You're terrible." She ducks her gaze.
Marley laughs easily. "Takes one to know one." Her fingers entwine with Quinn's, and she brings their joined hands to her lips, kissing the back of Quinn's hand.
The emcees take the stage, and it reminds her that they're in public. At an awards ceremony. Where she's probably, maybe, taking an award home tonight. And most importantly, she hasn't thought about any of this for the past ten minutes because she'd been focused on Quinn.
Shaking her head, Marley leans forward to peck Quinn on the cheek. "Thank you."
"What's that for?" she asks, smiling softly.
"Oh… nothing. Everything. I don't know." Marley returns her attention forward, deliberately oblivious to Quinn's gaze.
There is a short period of silence as the words sink in; Marley remains perfectly still.
Then Quinn's whispering urgently in her ear, pressing a sloppy kiss to her cheek in her excitement. Finn's clapping with an enthusiasm normally reserved for when the Lakers win. Trent's on his feet, urging her up.
Marley lets him pull her onto her feet and gently point her towards the stage to accept her award. She doesn't remember what happens next until she's clutching the deceptively-heavy trophy in both hands and doing her best not to trip as she leaves the stage.
Trent grabs Marley around the waist and kisses her on the cheek. "Congratulations."
She pushes at him, laughing. "It's your song!"
"No," replies Trent, uncharacteristically serious. "It may be on the album that we wrote together, but only Virtue won Best Song, Marl. And you were the one who wrote Virtue solo." He smiles. "It's all you."
Marley looks down at the trophy in her hands. "I… it's still hard to believe this is happening."
"Oh, it's happened." He kisses her cheek. "Enjoy it, sweetheart. You've earned this." With a gentle push, Trent propels her towards her waiting friends, and straight into Quinn's arms.
"I won," Marley tells Quinn.
Quinn presses a kiss to her forehead. "I knew you would."
Laughing, she hugs Quinn tight, mouthing I love you into her neck.
The glass trophy sticks out of Marley's purse as she makes her way back to the car. Quinn trails behind her, an amused expression on her face.
"The first award you've ever won – and it's for the Best Song from the Los Angeles Music Awards – and you shove it in your purse," says Quinn.
"I need both hands free for driving," quips Marley.
"That's what the backseat is for."
"I have other things in mind." She pulls Quinn around and presses her back against the side of her little car. Quinn moans when Marley kisses her deeply.
"What are you…?"
"Come home with me tonight," says Marley. Her lips skim Quinn's right shoulder, curving into a smile when a shiver passes through Quinn's body.
"... Okay."
Marley doesn't waste any time. She kicks the door shut behind them with the spike of her heel, not bothering to stop and lock it. Quinn's body presses into her and she whines, struggling to spread her legs wider.
"You'll ruin… your dress," pants Quinn in between kisses.
"You're not helping with that," Marley points out. Her eyes flick to where Quinn's hands are gripping the material.
Quinn huffs a soft protest. She releases Marley's dress and rests her hands on smooth thighs, inching the fabric upwards. With every inch of creamy skin revealed, Quinn pushes forward a step, and Marley yields.
"What are you doing?"
"I'd have thought it would've been obvious by now," comes the breathless reply. "Sit."
Marley nods; her knees give way. She sits on her couch and stares, breathing quickening with anticipation and arousal.
Her girlfriend towers over her, smirking. There's a pair of underwear in her hand, and it looks familiar.
"... When did you take that off?" Marley asks.
"Just now," replies Quinn, clearly enjoying herself. Before she can say anything more, Quinn gracefully sinks to her knees in her beautiful sequined dress.
Marley's thought processes shut down.
Quinn seems aware of the effect she's having on her rapt audience of one. She peers up at Marley with her mischievous little smirk.
She can't help it. She mutters oh god under her breath, and digs her teeth into her lower lip.
It makes Quinn smile wider.
Her palms go back on Marley's knees. Marley watches, a helpless moth before the flame, as Quinn's hands move higher, inch by excruciating inch, finishing the job they started.
A whimper escapes her when her dress has been properly pushed up, bunched around her waist. Marley slumps lower, spreading her legs as wide as they will go.
Unfortunately for Marley, her desperation only seems to fuel Quinn's teasing. She dips her head, the tip of her tongue gliding over the inside of Marley's thigh.
"Please."
Quinn continues as though Marley hasn't spoken. She reaches the apex of her legs, staying maddeningly far from her crotch, and glides back down the other thigh.
Marley tries grabbing for Quinn's head to bring her mouth where it's needed. Quinn rebuffs her with a pinch to her leg that increases her ardor.
"No," growls Quinn.
She decides her hands are better used elsewhere. Marley presses one against her mouth and sits on the other. Quinn gives her a sly smile – her approval, no doubt – and strokes a finger over Marley's swollen clit.
Marley moans.
Without warning, Quinn dives in.
Marley gasps. It's a struggle not to simply lose herself to the mounting pleasure, to arch herself into Quinn's talented mouth. She barely has the presence of mind to wrap her lips around her teeth so she doesn't bite through her hand or tongue or whatever –
She comes, hard. Her hand falls away as her hips jerk, succumbing to her orgasm.
When she opens her eyes, Quinn is beside her.
"That deserved a trophy of its own," she mutters thickly.
Quinn giggles. "That's the first thing you can think to say?"
"You kinda fried my brain. That's all you're getting – until I recover." Slowly, the smile creeps back on her face, and Marley reaches out to touch –
Quick as a flash, she pins Marley's hands between their bodies. "No," Quinn says firmly, "tonight is all about you."
"But – "
"– and if you cooperate," Quinn speaks over her, "maybe I'll let you have a turn." Her thumbs rub over the delicate skin on the insides of Marley's wrists.
Marley's mouth snaps shut. She nods.
"Good girl."
They lie, tangled up and sated. Marley feels giddy, positively drunk with love; she started peppering Quinn's neck and jaw with feather-light kisses about five minutes ago and hasn't seen a need to stop yet. Quinn's half-hearted protests don't make it any easier.
"I have something for you, too," Marley says in between kisses. Quinn arches an eyebrow. Marley kisses it.
"That was it?"
"Nope." Marley disentangles their bodies – Quinn lets out a needy, adorable whine – and goes over to her desk. She opens her laptop lid, presses a few buttons, and returns to bed as guitar music starts to play.
When the singer starts, Quinn props her chin up on Marley's shoulder, suddenly alert. "That's you," she says, sounding awed.
"Yeah." Marley kisses Quinn's left cheekbone – the closest part of Quinn to her mouth.
"But that's Trent's album, isn't it?"
She grins into Quinn's neck. "One of the benefits of being a producer is having unlimited access to the recording equipment. I figured that – being the very biased girlfriend that you are – you wouldn't want just Trent's album, so… I made you another. A very special cover album." Marley's hands slip around the small of Quinn's back, holding her close.
Quinn pushes at her jaw with her nose, so Marley turns her head to look at her. "You made this for me?" she asks in a small voice.
"Yeah." Marley kisses the tip of her nose."It felt right, because it's about finding your path. Moving on. Being stronger. When I wrote it, I used you for inspiration. And me. Us." She flushes at her lack of eloquence and ducks her head, hoping Quinn won't notice.
"Oh." Quinn falls silent, listening to the lyrics. Marley's plaintive voice sings about bending and breaking and recovering.
"I wrote a lot of stuff in that year." She starts carding her fingers through Quinn's hair to give herself something to focus on. "It was freeing. I mean – it's something I do." Marley pauses to think of her next words. "It helped put everything in perspective, you know."
"I think I do," says Quinn. She doesn't apologize. They're past that now.
"Has it really only been a year?"
Quinn frowns. "... I think so. Yes. About a year."
"It's weird, but it feels a lot longer than that – and still too short." Marley drops her hand to the crook of Quinn's elbow. "Like any moment now, I'll wake up from this dream and you'll be gone."
"I'm sorry you feel that way," murmurs Quinn. She strokes Marley's cheek. "But I'm not going anywhere."
"I know." She drops her head, nestling her cheek against Quinn. Marley smiles absently when she feels a kiss being pressed to her temple. "But I'm not sorry."
"You're not?"
"I remember reading something somewhere, one of those random articles. It was about needing to know sadness so we appreciate happiness more."
She feels Quinn nod into her neck. "That makes sense."
"So, I'm not sorry that we had hard times. Because, in the end, you're here. We're here, together. As cheesy as that sounds."
"You're… sometimes, I still don't know how to describe you."
Marley giggles. "You have a degree in English. You could try."
"Not funny. I… you're so much more than mere words, Marley. Sometimes, I don't understand how someone like me found someone like you. We might never have met. We could have been just friends, or I could have – I don't know – settled down with Sam or Puck or even Rachel, and built a life with them. I could never have known everything that I've learned with you, and never missed it." Quinn pauses. "The thought terrifies me; you're a part of me now, that cutting you out would take away the heart of me as well."
Marley kisses her sweetly. "That was a pretty good description."
Quinn snorts. "I didn't actually say anything."
"You said everything that needs to be said." As the song changes, Marley presses close, sings softly along with the Marley on the album:
"I hear peace in the rhythms of your voice
Comforts me knowing you have made a choice
Lost my words in a clouded mind tonight
Guard the doorway to the truth
My virtue lives with you"
Quinn subsides. Her body sinks into Marley's.
By the time they emerge from the room, the shadows are just beginning to lengthen, and Hugo gives them his most reproachful glare from his doggy bed.
"Sorry, boy," says Marley. "You must be starving."
He follows her movements with his eyes, planted in the centre of the kitchen until she places his food dish in front of him; after which, all his attention is focused on tucking into his breakfast.
In the kitchen, Quinn is just plating their own meals. Marley goes to pour the coffee, their movements coordinated after months of this routine. It makes her start thinking of weeks and months like this, not just days; before she can stop herself, Marley says: "So, I was thinking."
"Hmm?"
Marley gestures between them. "We've been doing this for a while now. You're here more often than not, and if not, it's usually because I've managed to get someone to watch Hugo and I'm at your place."
Out of the corner of her eye, she notices that Quinn has paused, her fork hovering over the plate. "Yeah?"
Asking Quinn to move in with her suddenly seems impossibly daunting. "We – it seems a little unfair if you're always here, you know…? You're paying rent for a place you hardly use." Marley falters. "You've got some things here for impromptu sleepovers. It just makes more sense if, you know…"
Quinn turns quizzical hazel eyes on her. Sunlight illuminates the kitchen, picking out the green in her eyes and adding a golden halo to her blonde hair. "If I?"
Marley sighs. There's no escaping it. "I think… I'd like it if you considered moving in with me. I mean – I'm only saying that because my place is bigger and they let me keep Hugo, but I just want us to live together, so I would be okay if we found another place of our own." As she speaks, she gets increasingly nervous because Quinn's expression has yet to change.
"What?"
"I… want us to live together," says Marley, now completely and utterly defeated – but also terrified of Quinn's answer.
Quinn sets down her fork carefully. "You're not joking?"
"I wouldn't joke about things like this," says Marley, a nervous smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Quinn, I really do want this." She pauses. "You're freaking out. Please don't freak out."
She makes an odd noise. "Marley, this is… I wasn't expecting that."
"It was just something I thought we could do," says Marley quickly, "it's fine if you don't want that as well."
"No, I do." Quinn clears her throat, now a shade of pink darker. "I was… I had my concerns, though."
Relief floods through Marley. "Oh. Well, maybe we could discuss that?"
To her surprise, Quinn flushes darker. "I… I'm worried about Hugo."
"What about Hugo?" Marley asks warily. She knows Quinn isn't the biggest fan of animals, but she doesn't believe that Quinn would ask her to choose between her and Hugo.
"Oh God," mutters Quinn. She clasps her hands together tightly. "You got Hugo after we broke up. He's an important part of your life – "
" – like you aren't?" interrupts Marley, torn between relief, amusement, and growing confusion.
" – let me finish." Quinn purses her lips. "He's an important part of your life during that year when we…" She trails off uncomfortably. "He was there for you."
Marley shakes her head. She bends forward so her hair swings forward, shielding her face from Quinn.
"Are you…?"
"No."
"I'm sorry, I…" Quinn scoots over and rests her hand on Marley's knee. Marley straightens, and –
"You're laughing!"
"I'm not," says Marley, and snorts.
"You are! You're laughing at me!" insists Quinn.
The absurdity of the situation hits them both, and they give way to hysterical laughter.
Between wheezes, Marley gasps: "You – oh god – you're freaking out about living together because you don't wanna displace my dog – Quinn, you're just – oh, my stomach."
"Glad to know this is so entertaining for you," says Quinn with as much dignity as she can muster through her own giggling.
Still chuckling, Marley reaches out to pull a pouting Quinn into her lap. "I'm not laughing at you," she says adamantly. "I'm laughing with you. You have to admit, your dramatic Broadway diva Rachel Berry impression is hilarious. You should've gone into comedy."
"Whatever," grunts Quinn. Nevertheless, she turns, snuggling her back further into Marley, pulling Marley's arms over her middle and letting out a quiet sigh of contentment.
A pleased Marley kisses Quinn's shoulder. "I love you, you ridiculous dramatic creature."
"I'm not answering to that."
She giggles. "I love you, my very own Rachel Berry impersonator."
"Oh, my God." Quinn attempts to squirm out of Marley's arms, but she holds on tight.
Marley lifts her chin so her lips are level with Quinn's ear. "I love you," she murmurs, "and I love that you understand how important this is to me. I love that you're in my life again. I love how you always make my heart flutter when you show me, every day, how much you care about me. I love how you're making me say all this ridiculously cheesy stuff because you've made them true. Most of all, I'm in love with you."
A soft sound escapes Quinn. "... You're an idiot."
"Your idiot," Marley corrects her.
She sprawls, lazy and content, on Quinn. Despite the occasional complaint that she's heavy and that she's squashing her internal organs, Quinn has an arm firmly wrapped around Marley's waist that keeps her from moving; the other is preoccupied with tracing random patterns over Marley's upper arm.
Marley wishes Quinn doesn't have to leave. But it's Sunday evening, and Quinn has a Monday morning lecture that she can't miss, being the lecturer and all. Marley makes a noise of displeasure and burrows her face further into the sweet-smelling space between Quinn's head and neck.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
Quinn chuckles. "Nothing, huh?" Her hand finds the space between Marley's shoulder blades and rubs. "The nothing being me having to leave in, uh…" She glances at the clock on the wall, "... fifteen minutes?"
She scowls. "Yeah. That nothing."
"We've spent the entire day together," says Quinn. "No, the entire weekend. We'll be seeing a lot more of each other."
"I can't wait." She scoots up so she can beam at Quinn. "You're moving in," she says in reverent tones.
Quinn just looks back at her, soft and happy; so different from the guarded Quinn she met, years ago. "I'm moving in," she echoes, eyes crinkling at the sides as she mirrors Marley's smile.
Author's Notes: The chapter title comes from I Choose You by Sara Bareilles, because I couldn't find a more fitting song than this.
Friends, this is the final chapter for this story. Thank you to everyone who's read and/or reviewed this. Special thanks to gllover22 and images-in-words who have been with this every single step of the way (and I do mean every single step, because they've reviewed every chapter). I know I've said this a million times, but I'm grateful for all the encouragement and love shown when I embarked on this rarepair odyssey almost a year and nearly 190,000 words ago.
Mike gets another nod here because he convinced me to start a collection of shorts and oneshots that take place in the TSD universe. While The Shortest Distance has officially ended, the universe lives on.
Finally! I wanna thank y'all for being a part of the longest fanfic I've ever written and completed. I used to write 20k words and be amazed at myself. At 190k words, this is a freaking full-length novel.