A/N- Here we go, just one more chapter! As such, let me know if there's anything you want me to include before the end of this story, and also let me know if you've got any ideas for my next Faberry story, I love your feedback!
Quinn ran a hand through her short hair, trying to think of what story to tell her children next, but coming up empty, "What else..." She thought aloud.
The brunette seated in her lap ran through her memory, coming up with some fond moments involving Bee but none that she particularly wanted to share with her kids, "I'm not sure."
It was Nora who prompted them, "Tell us about the stain on the dashboard!"
"Which one?"
"The red one." Their girl smiled, it was a story that she and her brother had asked for before, but had never been told.
"Of course the red one. Your mother hates that story." Rachel teased, lightly poking her wife's side.
"I warned you, and that was the first stain in the car! I own the car for five years without incident and then you come along-"
"It was just after graduation." Rachel interrupted her wife's rant.
Rachel leaned back with her feet thrown up on the dashboard. Graduation from NYADA was exactly two days ago (Quinn had finished at Columbia the week prior) and Rachel had just finished the last of her processing so she was officially done with college.
In a few months, Quinn's graduate program at NYU, and rehearsal for an off broadway show that Rachel had landed would begin, but for now they were taking a cross country road trip in Bee. The plan was to hit all the major cities and sites that neither girl had time to see before. The trip was a combination graduation celebration, and five year anniversary trip.
Quinn had her window cracked and was driving like she normally did- one hand on the wheel, one on the gear- as she merged onto the highway. Rachel pulled a bottle of red nail polish out of her purse and shook it a couple of times before unscrewing the cap.
She toed off her sandals, and slid down further in her seat, getting in the optimal toenail painting position while Quinn shook her head.
"You had better not spill any of that on, Bee." She teased.
Rachel resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but didn't look away from her pedicure, "I've done this plenty of times before. I'm not going to spill."
"Good, I hope not. For your sake at least."
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah." Quinn confirmed, barely able to maintain a straight face, "I mean if you deface Bee in any way I'll have to break up with you. I've known Bee longer so it's only fair."
The singer ignored her girlfriend and changed the subject, "Do you think Santana will be alright?"
Quinn snorted, "That idiot bought a motorcycle against all common sense, entirely ignored speed limits, then sat like and idiot for two hours while she left a quarter of her blood volume on the front lawn of NYADA. As far as I'm concerned, she's alright because I haven't throttled her yet."
The singer contained her laughter, remembering how mad Quinn had been at her best friend when she found out about the motorcycle accident even though Santana was fine. Rachel had offered to postpone their trip so they could spend time with the brunette while her road rash healed, but Quinn had turned her down.
"She's probably just going to be pissed about the scar."
"True."
Rachel made it through painting eight of her toes and was just moving on to lucky number nine when Quinn swore, slammed on the brakes, and threw her right arm across the passenger's side. A small red BMW had just swerved in front of the Jeep, nearly causing an accident.
Quinn barely managed to drag Bee out of the BMW's path of destruction and stop hard on the shoulder of the highway. Her protective arm had pushed Rachel back into her seat and prevented her from hitting her head on the dash, but it jostled her pedicure and a streak of shiny red polish was mocking the two from the dark dashboard.
They sat in silence a moment as other cars flew past and they regained their breath.
"You can remove your arm now." Rachel said after a moment.
Quinn's smile was sheepish as she reclaimed the limb from restraining hergirlfriend, "Sorry." After a beat, the blonde merged back onto the highway. They drove for a short while until a smirk crept back onto Quinn's face, "I guess this means we're over."
"What?" Rachel's eyes went wide and immediately she was up in arms, "Because some idiot almost hit us? That makes no sense! I-"
"You stained Bee."
Rachel rolled her eyes at the red streak glaring back at her, "It will come out."
"It never did come out." Quinn said with a playful glare at her wife.
"That so wasn't my fault though."
"Whatever."
The couple shared an intimate moment of Quinn trying to get the brunette to confess to staining the car, and Rachel vehlmently refusing. They were interrupted by their son's confusion.
"Wait, that's the story of the red sparkly stain. I wanted to know about the dark red on near the door."
Both women thought a moment before Quinn instantly perked up, "Oh, you mean the one from when Nora was born!"
The girl in question's eyes instantly widened, "I was born in a car?"
"Don't be ridiculous." Rachel dismissed, "Do you really think I would let that happen?"
"Quinn." Rachel was in the living room, pacing up and down trying to memorize her lines for an upcoming show set to start in a few weeks.
"Yeah, hon?" Quinn was in the kitchen where Santana was trying to teach her how to make fajitas. Rachel was four days past her due date and Santana and Brittany had been spending as much time at their best friends' house in anticipation of the birth.
"Will you come here?"
"Just a second." The blonde narrowed her eyes as she watched Santana carefully dicing the tomatoes. Brittany was sitting with her feet thrown up on the kitchen table, working through some coreography she was writing for the show Rachel was in. As she played the soundtrack through her phone, she wrote notes out in her small notebook and sometimes scrunched her eyes up, visualizing steps in her head.
"No, Quinn. I need you now."
Santana rolled her eyes at the singer's anxiety, "Calm yourself, Berry. Your wife will be there to dote on you any minute now."
"Quinn, my water broke."
In that moment a few things happened simultaneously. Quinn jumped up from her seat at the kitchen island, Santana missed her next slice on the tomato, Brittany threw off her headphones and sprinted to Rachel.
"Shit."
Moments later, Quinn and Brittany were leading a very pregnant Rachel out of the apartment and down to the car, Santana trailing after them with a dish towel pressed to her bleeding hand.
They all piled into Bee, Quinn behind the wheel, Santana in the passenger seat, Rachel in the back with Britt coaching her through the first few contractions.
It was a solid two minutes of driving in the direction of the hospital before Quinn noticed her best friend was bleeding onto the dashboard.
"What the hell did you do, Santana?"
The Latina cursed as she noticed the dish towel had slipped letting some of her blood slip out and stain the dash dark red, "Opps. Don't worry about it, you're about to be a Mother!"
"San."
"I cut myself a tiny bit on accident."
Rachel couldn't contain her laughter, "I'm about to push a child out of me. A child. And Santana is bleeding. Of course, this is perfect."
Soon enough, all four women had fallen into a fit of giggles.
"Why is it that I can't have any sort of large moment in my life without Santana Lopez bleeding all over it?"
Though the women were laughing, there was truth to the statement that the four easily reminisced over.
"Like high school graduation." Quinn started, "Yours was the day after ours, and Santana celebrated too hard, walked into a door, gashed her forehead open, refused to get stitches, and the scab broke open when she cheered on Britt crossing the stage and we had to go right from graduation to the hospital."
"That was just once-" Santana tried to defend herself.
"College graduation!" Brittany interrupted, "You and Quinn graduated before us, and you bought that damn motorcycle as a gift to yourself. Then you demanded on driving it to our graduation, you laid it down speeding into the parking lot, got roadburn all up your leg, and bled through your jeans."
"But I sat through the whole ceremony anyway."
"Not the point." Brittany interrupted.
"But I-"
"Our wedding." Rachel contributed through pinched breath.
"Exactly!" Quinn agreed, "You beat up a waiter!"
"He started it."
Brittany rolled her eyes, "You took on a guy who was half a foot taller than you and at least a hundred pounds heavier. And you threw the first punch."
"He deserved it." Santana mumbled.
"Rachel's very first Broadway show opening night." Quinn smirked.
"Hey! I didn't actually bleed at that one."
Quinn fixed her best friend with a light glare, "Your appendix almost ruptured, we had to leave after the first act for you to have emergency surgery. That's close enough to bleeding all over it."
The Latina just grumbled in annoyance and sank lower in her seat, "I hope that stains your car."
"And I hope your finger falls off."
"I'm so glad I'm bringing a child into a world full of so much love." Rachel sighed sarcastically.
The singer squeezed Brittany's hand hard as another contraction washed over her and Quinn pulled into the parking lot of the hospital.
"Let's go have a kid!"
"Mrs. Lopez has a gotten hurt a lot of times." Jason said, cringing in sympathy.
"She never did have the most common sense." Quinn agreed.
Rachel refrained from laughing, "You're not much better, dear."
"I never contributed to the apparently large amount of red stains in Beatrice."