Sorry for taking so long. I've been working terrible hours... As compensation, here's a super long chapter and... it's also the last. Thank you everyone who has read this story. You are all amazing.
Maybe he would have found out what was happening if Santana hadn't been waiting behind the apartment door. If she hadn't made them dinner and bought wine and talked to them for hours about LA then maybe Quinn had given him some kind of answer. Now he would never find out because there she was, loud and kind and warm which left them no place to talk. It was like reality had barged in on them, calling them out on pretending that other people didn't exist.
"You're both so quiet" Santana remarked.
"We've been in the sun all day" Puck said.
"Dehydrated" Quinn nodded in agreement.
She ate as little of Santana's homemade dinner as she had of the dinner from the restaurant at Coney Island. At least she kept refilling her own water glass to the brim every few minutes. He thought that she looked pale, despite spending all that time in the sun.
"I have to go back on Wednesday" Santana said.
"Huh?"
He hadn't been listening.
"To LA. I'm just back for some more stuff. My agent found me tiny apartment for when I'm there and I wanted to bring some clothes."
"You're moving there?" he asked.
He didn't want to sound upset but his tone was clearly accusatory.
"Not full time" Santana replied.
"But most of the time?"
"I want to be an actress, Puck."
He looked down. He was happy for her, of course. This was what she had wanted. It was just too fucking bad that it was the complete opposite of what he wanted.
"Thanks for dinner, San" Quinn said. "I'm just so tired."
She got up but Santana pointed at her with one well-manicured finger.
"No, sit down, Quinn Fabray."
"What have I done?" she asked as if she was in detention.
"You tell me that Puck has a new job. What about you? Have you even applied to anything? Have you updated your CV?"
"No" Quinn replied.
"Why not?"
"I… I'm not done."
"With what?"
Santana really nailed the disappointed mother voice. Puck had also wondered why Quinn didn't seem stressed of becoming lonely next week but didn't dare to question her about it.
"This summer" Quinn replied. "I guess."
"Get over it" Santana snapped. "It will be uncomfortable to see you moping around. And for fuck's sake, get out of that room you share with Kitty Wilde!"
Quinn smiled. Puck did too.
"I will" she promised. "I'll move out of that fucking room and apply for jobs. I promise. Just not tonight. I'm exhausted. Okay?"
"You haven't eaten much" Santana noted.
Quinn groaned.
"Give it up, San. I already have a mom and I moved away from her at eighteen for a reason."
Santana gave up and Quinn went to brush her teeth.
"Is she sleeping in your bed or in mine?" Santana asked, finishing Quinn's glass of wine.
"I actually don't know" Puck replied.
….
She went to bed in Santana's bed and for the first time all summer draped herself in a blanket. The weather was changing, she could feel it. It was like everything and everyone wanted to remind of the fact that fall was coming. She ignored and fell asleep instantly. Three or four hours later, she awoke again. Thunder was crackling, loudly, and rain slammed against the windows. Santana slept through it but Quinn was wide awake. She tried to close her eyes and go back to sleep but it was harder now. Her thoughts were crowding her, pushing her into thinking about difficult things and worrying about the future. In the end, she gave up, wrapped the blanket around her and went into the kitchen for some water. The building was quiet but nature outside roared. She stood with her cold feet on the concrete floor, wrapped in a stinky blanket and looked around her temporary home. Then she abandoned all thoughts of sleep and headed for confrontation.
"Are you awake?" she whispered into Puck's room where his clearly sleeping form rested on the bed.
Thunder rattled but he slept on. He wasn't a light sleeper. She had to shake his shoulder a bit before he opened his eyes.
"Wha-" he began and then lightning hit and turned the sky white for a second.
"It's raining" she said.
"I can tell" he murmured, closing his eyes again.
She sat down on the edge of his bed. It was like she was back in Rachel's lake house, forcing herself near his sleeping form.
"What if we had put off going to the beach one more day…"
"We could have gone another day" he mumbled. "It's not going to rain forever."
"It might" she whispered.
He opened his eyes again. He looked tired. Not sleepy but exhausted. Of her. She felt ashamed. She had put him through so much, so much pain and hurt and now she was back at this bed side, just because she felt like it.
"What if we hadn't gone today and you hadn't kissed me and-"
"You kissed me" he interrupted.
"Okay" she said. "What if I hadn't kissed you. Would we have gone on being friends?"
"How can you ask that when you know how I feel about you? How I've always felt about you?"
His voice was strong and weak at the same time. He sounded wounded. And she had done this to him. Given him hope. Taken it away.
"Can I sleep here?" she whispered.
"Quinn" he groaned.
"Please."
"Why?"
"I want to."
"Why?" he asked again.
She didn't say anything. But she thought. She thought that she just wanted to be close him, to touch his skin, to be safe, to be with him. It all sounded selfish though, especially if she couldn't say that she loved him back.
"I'm not doing this again" he whispered. "I'm not doing the lake house thing a second time. I can't stand to let you in and then watch you leave."
"I won't leave."
"No, not literally but… Whatever. It doesn't matter. Go to bed, Quinn."
She did. She lay down next to sleeping Santana with burning cheeks and cried, feeling lucky that the storm outside muffled all her noises.
…
"Quinn?"
She waved pathetically at him as he stepped closer, holding out his umbrella so that it covered her body too. Not that it mattered. She was soaking wet already and chilled to the bone.
"Hi" she said.
"What are you doing here?" Henry asked.
He seemed wary and she couldn't blame him. There last meeting hadn't ended well and then Puck had stormed in and made some kind of statement.
"I need to talk to you" she said.
"Me as me or me as a therapist?" he asked.
"Both" she said. "I think."
He smiled at her, still wary but also kind.
"Okay" he said. "You'd better come upstairs."
He unlocked the door and held it open for her. They took the elevator together to the third floor. She kept dripping onto the floors. She had been standing outside, waiting for him, for more than an hour.
"Do you want to take a shower or…?" he asked, looking at her shivering frame.
"No" she said. "But maybe, some tea?"
"Sure" he said. "I'll get that ready for you."
She sat down on a kitchen chair. It was odd hearing Henry pour water into the kettle and rummage through the cupboards for teabags. She couldn't remember a single time that he had made her tea before.
"Here you go" he said, handing her a steaming cup.
She warmed her hands in the steam from the hot water. He sat down on the opposite side of the table.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yes" she said. "Of course. How are you?"
"Good" he replied. "Busy. Term is starting on Monday. There's a lot to get ready."
"Right" she mumbled. "Right. The fall term."
"Quinn, what's wrong?"
"Did I… Did we…" she trailed off, looking at the picture of his daughter again. "Maybe you and I should have stayed together."
Henry followed her gaze to the photograph and got up to get it for her. Quinn studied it closely. The family seemed to be at the zoo. The two little boys were holding stuffed animals close against their chests.
"It's Sandra and her husband, Matt, and their kids" Henry said instead of replying to her previous statement.
"I know" Quinn said. "They look happy."
"Yes. It's an old picture, though, I just got it this weekend. Sandra has warmed up towards me recently; asked me to spend the weekend at their house in Vermont."
"I didn't know that she was mad at you."
"Well, I did divorce her mother for a college student I had been having an affair with for years."
"Right" Quinn said, still looking at the happy family. "Right."
"She kept going on and on about how happy she was that I was finally free from you, like you were some kind of devil that had entrapped me in your devilish love."
Quinn looked up.
"She did?"
"Yes. I told her that that wasn't the case. I told her that it was more or less the opposite."
"You never forced me to stay with you" Quinn said.
"I knew. If I'm honest, which I can be now, I knew you yearned for him. All the times we talked about him and all the times you refused to mention him. I knew and… I guess I was hoping that you would never figure it out" Henry said and smiled meekly. "Not very professional of me."
"How can you know if I don't?" she asked, handing back the frame to him.
"You know too" he said. "You're just afraid."
"I'm not" she argued.
"You settled" he said. "You thought that you lost him and you decided that you were okay settling to be with me. Even though I wasn't what you really wanted. And now… I think you are having a hard time realizing that you don't have to settle. You can have it all. Him. And that family you always told me that you didn't want. It's not impossible anymore, Quinn."
He was using his work-voice now which clashed heavily with what he was saying. It was like he was pretending to be objective even though he was talking about himself. Suddenly, Quinn felt shame. She shouldn't have come here. She shouldn't force him to make her feel better about leaving him.
"It's not your job to fix me anymore" she said. "I'm sorry. I never should have asked you for this."
Henry smiled again. He leaned over and placed his hand on top of hers. It felt very platonic and made her relax.
"I miss you" he said. "Every day."
"I miss you too" she whispered.
"I miss you but I'm also thankful for what you did, that you decided to leave. Being with you was never right for me. I was working so hard to keep you because I knew that you were too young, too beautiful and too special to be with me. I tried to make you happy, I listened to you talk about him for hours because you needed it. That was unselfish, at least in some ways, but I did bad things too. I… closed you off, kept you inside with me so that you wouldn't get tempted by the life outside. It was the worst thing I've ever done and I feel truly ashamed about it" Henry went on, not looking at her. "But when you came back from the reunion, I knew that I had fought in vain. I tried to play it off, call it only sex, demanding that you didn't speak of it… Because I knew that I had lost you. Not to him, necessarily, but to the world. Or… to yourself, really."
Quinn felt tears well up in her eyes.
"I'm never going to the zoo again" she said stupidly, since it was the only thing she could think of to say. "You made me realize how horrible they are."
He smiled now. She cried and he smiled. And it rained outside.
"Maybe you should try to find yourself" Henry said. "You haven't been alone since you were a teenager. If you feel unsure about Mr. Puckerman, it might be a good start."
…
So she tried. She really did. It was hard finding an apartment of her own but she was sick of Kitty and moved into a room of her own in a big apartment in Brooklyn that she shared with two models and a call girl. It wasn't ideal but it was something. It was a start. She emailed her CV to numerous law firms and went on four job interviews. She didn't get two of the jobs and she declined the other two. They seemed too similar to the one she had just left. She was really lonely. The only person she talked to regularly was Santana, whom never seemed to stay in New York more than a week at a time. And she missed him. Horribly. But she didn't know if it was out of habit or out of real love so she kept to herself. Watched TV. Tried to avoid the Russian model who had a bad temper. Made food she never managed to finish by herself. Summer turned into fall, September into October.
…
He really tried too. He had promised himself to leave it up to her this time. He wasn't going to plead. She knew how he felt. She knew where he lived. Where he worked. So he tried to move on with his life. His new job was great. It took up much time and rendered him exhausted in the afternoons. Some of the other guy on the crew took him out for beers sometimes and some girls in the ensemble flirted with him. He never acted on it, though. He didn't want another Cindy. Not yet. He thought of Quinn too much. In contrast to her situation, he didn't know neither where she lived nor worked. Santana would have told him, of course, but he had decided not to ask. Sometimes he felt sure that she was back with Henry. Those nights were perhaps the worst. But he never asked Santana, never made sure that what he was dreading was true. September ended and October began. He had survived without her for ten whole years. Still, this time felt so much worse.
…
In the end, it was chance that brought them together again. Or no, not chance. That's incorrect. It was Santana and her sudden success in Hollywood. Her show's pilot was to air in the beginning of October, on a Tuesday, just after a crappy teen show about a choir. She planned a big viewing party at the apartment and invited all her friends to share her success. Quinn knew that she should deny the request, but she didn't. First of all, Santana was her best friend. Second of all, it had been Quinn that had negotiated the contract that made Santana a sort of semi-regular on the show. And thirdly, Quinn wanted to see him. Just see him. She didn't have to speak to him. Just… watch him. It would be enough. So she got dressed in a dress, did her makeup and her hair. Tanya, the Bulgarian model with a good temper, looked almost confused when Quinn stepped out of the only bathroom.
"You look different" she said.
"Thanks" Quinn replied, even if that wasn't a compliment per se.
"Date?"
"No" Quinn said quickly. "Just… a party."
She splurged and took a cab from one part of Brooklyn to the part where Santana lived. She had bought a bottle of almost fancy wine as a present but when she stood outside the apartment door, she suddenly felt too formal. And too overdressed. It was a casual party. No one would be dressed like she was. However, she had no chance to change her mind as someone came up behind her and hugged her.
"Quinn! It's so good to see you!"
Sam. She hadn't expected him to be there and the hug was kind of stiff.
"Why are you here?" she asked, rather rudely.
"Oh" he said, shrugging. "It's not every day that one of us breaks through, right?"
"Right" she said, attempting a smile.
"Are you going to knock?" he asked.
"Oh, right."
She knocked. Too timidly. There was no chance that anyone would have heard it inside. Sam shrugged and tried the door handle. The door was open and he walked in in front of her. She followed. There were people everywhere. She recognized most of them from other parties and raised her hand in feeble greetings towards some of them. Santana was pouring drinks and called them over.
"Samuel!" she called out. "I knew my biggest fan was coming!
Quinn received a red solo cup filled with a green liquid. She could smell the alcohol by just sniffing it and put it down. She didn't want to be drunk tonight.
"Take some food" Santana said. "The episode airs in an hour."
Quinn stuffed her face with some bean tacos she found on a tray. Sam found Rachel and her boyfriend. They stood all four in a circle. The others talked and Quinn looked around for Puck. Wasn't he here? Had he moved out?
"Puck! My man!" Sam called out, at the very moment.
She twisted around. Puck was stepping out of the bathroom, dressed in the pair of dressy jeans she had picked out for him, and a nice shirt. He smiled broadly at Sam and gave him a hug. Quinn longed for the cup of alcohol she had discarded.
"Hi" he said to her finally.
"Hi" she said.
His skin had lost the glow of summer. He wasn't as tan but on the other hand looked bigger, more taught. Maybe he did a lot of heavy lifting on the new job. And he was beautiful. There was no other way to describe it. The curve of his lip. His soft eyes. The powerful way he moved. She felt like she had to sit down.
…
He had not pictured meeting her for the first time in a month in the presence of Sam. They were merely standing next to each other, but the jealousy burned powerfully in his chest. She almost coward behind him, chewing on some of those tacos he had made earlier.
"Hi" he said.
"Hi she said.
Sam talked on about something and everything. Puck replied but wasn't really listening. He could only focus on the fact that she was here now. What did that mean? God, he was sick of thinking that.
"Did you come here together?" he finally asked, probably interrupting the conversation the others were having.
"Who do you mean?" Sam asked.
"You and Quinn. Did you come here together?"
"We met outside" she said quickly. "The door. I mean. Outside the door."
He felt foolish now. Sam and the others looked confused. They didn't know that Quinn and Puck were again estranged. Or did they? Did they even know that they used to spend time together? It was all so messy.
"Quinn, where do you even live nowadays?" Rachel asked, changing the subject.
"In a room in a big apartment, with three other girls" Quinn said.
"Not with Kitty?" he asked.
"No, not anymore."
"You don't know where she lives?" Sam asked.
"We've both been busy" Quinn said.
No one believed her. Rachel once again changed the subject. Santana approached them, gave Puck and Quinn a hard look and served them more alcohol.
"Rachel, why don't you and Stephen show Sam around?" she said.
"Show him what?" Rachel asked, raising one eyebrow.
"The apartment" Santana insisted.
"This is it" Rachel said.
"No" Santana pushed on. "Show him the bathroom. Show him where you cut your leg shaving and thought you were going to die."
Rachel finally gave up and took the guys with her to other end of the apartment.
"Are you two okay?" Santana asked, not sounding very sympathetic, but rather annoyed. "Are you going to fight or cry or something?"
Neither of them said anything. Puck didn't know what to say. He wanted Quinn to speak first.
"That's comforting" Santana groaned.
She pushed a drink into Quinn's hand.
"Smile, honey. I'm going to be on TV. You can at least try to look like you care."
Quinn narrowed her eyes
"Pretend? I came here for you."
Santana laughed dryly.
"No, you didn't. We all know that you didn't."
She floated away, to talk to other guests, and Puck and Quinn were left alone. He steeled himself. No, he wasn't going to speak first. It was up to her.
"Maybe we need to talk" she said.
"Okay" he said passively.
"In your room?"
"Okay."
…
He was quiet. He was never this quiet. Quinn knew what it meant. It was her time to talk. That was probably fair. She was probably the one who had the most to say anyway.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"What do you mean?" he asked, sounding defensive.
"I mean, how are you?"
He seemed to almost roll his eyes.
"Get to the point, Quinn."
"How do you know I have a point?" she asked.
"Because if you don't, I'm leaving."
She quickly, and instinctively, placed a hand on his arm to hold him down. He didn't shake her off. He was giving her more time and she needed it because she had no idea what to say. She had this feeling inside her. She had had it for a long time, maybe since forever, but it had exploded when she had seen him tonight. But how did you describe a feeling with words?
"Quinn…" he said softly, as to encourage her, as to push the words out of her.
She opened her mouth but… No, she didn't know what to say. The look of impatience on his face made her heart beat faster. If she didn't act now, she might lose him forever. And so she kissed him. Both because it was a way of keeping him close but also because it was only way she could think of to convey how she was feeling. And he kissed her back. At least at first.
"Quinn…" he said again, even softer this time. "I'm not… I can't do this again. I want… more."
"Me too" she whispered.
"Do you?" he asked.
And the ball was once again in her court. But she held it. She knew that it was up to her and it was scary but it was also empowering. The ball was in her court and no one could take it from her.
"I'm bad with words" she said.
"Not true" he countered.
"I'm good at arguing in court and convincing at jury to convict but… I don't know how to make you believe me."
"Start by saying something" he said. "Anything."
"I love you" she said.
He seemed taken aback by that but then shook his head. It wasn't enough. She had tried her best but fallen short.
"You told me that before. Do you remember? And then you went back to Henry."
"I'm not with Henry now" she said.
"I know but…"
"For ten years, all I've been able to think of are the reasons that you and I shouldn't be together. Well, it began in High School, I guess, when I tried to tell myself that you were bad for me. That's ironic now, considering who is really bad for who in this relationship, but still. If we forget High School, I've been constructing arguments for why we shouldn't be together since we fought after Finn's death. First I had the fight and the fact that you had left me. Then I had Henry. Then I had that I was scared. But now… But now, I don't know. I'm not scared anymore. I have no more reasons."
Her hand was still on his arm. She reached out her other hand and placed it on his shoulder. If he let her, she could pull him in for another kiss. She didn't dare to try yet though. She wanted him to reply first.
"What are you saying?" he asked and now she wanted to roll her eyes because wasn't it clear?
"I…" she began but was cut off by the bedroom door opening.
They both swung around to see who it was who had stepped in on their tender moment. Of course it was Santana. She looked half pissed and half pissed, in the British sense of the word, as in drunk off her ass.
"San, can you give us a minute?" Puck asked smoothly.
"You've waited ten years to have this talk" she replied. "Can't you just wait a few more hours? My show is airing in five minutes."
They had no real choice. Santana escorted them out of the bedroom and made space for them on the floor in the front of the already crowded couch. Quinn didn't know what to say to him. She couldn't profess her love for him right now and maybe a part of her was relieved. She had more time to find the correct phrasing. But on the other hand, if she had just done it, they could have been together now. If Santana would just have waited another ten seconds to walk in…
"You're not looking at the screen" he reminded her softly.
"You're not either" she pointed out.
He was smiling and it made her smile back. Maybe she didn't need to explain herself further. Maybe it got it
"Look away" she whispered.
"You do it first" he teased her.
She laughed, quietly, so that no one would notice, and turned her face towards the TV where the opening credits playing. She felt his fingers on her hand, tentatively, carefully, as if he was waiting for a sign. She grabbed them, not being able to stand the wait. They had both waited enough.
…
It was their first date. Or last. And they walked around Little Italy without a map and without any sort of plan. She was shy. Terrifyingly shy and quiet. He talked, a lot, about stuff that didn't matter. They were so used to not talking about the important stuff that it now was difficult to do so.
"This is weird" she whispered, interrupting his talk about his new buddy Mitch.
He fell quiet for a moment before agreeing.
"Yes" he said. "Why is it weird?"
"Maybe it's because I never got to finish my sentence last night."
"I kind of know what you were about to say" he said.
"Oh. Right."
"But go ahead anyway" he insisted. "Say it anyway."
He nudged her side and she elbowed him back and it almost felt normal.
"I love you" she said softly.
"Good."
"Good?"
"I was right. I knew that was what you were about to say."
She elbowed him back.
"You have nothing to say to me?"
He shrugged.
"I've said it so many times."
"One more time" she begged. "Please."
He stopped and did too. They stood on a sidewalk where they had never been before. The dark clouds of fall loomed above them and had scared away the other pedestrians from the streets.
"I love you" he said.
And he was right. He had said it so many times but this time it felt real. This time it meant something concrete and real. His love was no longer merely an indicator of his feelings, now it meant that they felt the same and that those three words would be the start of something.
"Good" she said, imitating him.
"Good?"
"I always love hearing that."
They kissed. It was so nice to lean into him without any hesitations. There was no Beth, no Henry or anyone else to consider. For the first time in years and years they kissed like couple, not hiding it or pulling away in shame. She found his hand and held it tight, prolonging the moment for a few more seconds.
"So," he said when they eventually broke apart. "What do you want to do now?"
"About what?" she asked. "Life or… now?"
She looked around. They had walked and walked and walked without any sense of direction. She had no idea how to get home.
"Both" he said.
"Well," she said, tasting the word in her mouth. "I want us to share coffees."
"In life or right now?" he asked, grinning.
"Both."
"Okay. I promise to always drink half of your coffee."
"Good. And I promise to always steal your fries."
"Good."
She kissed him again, just because she could.
"What do you want to do?" she asked.
"Marry you" he replied quickly.
She laughed.
"Right now?"
"No… Or yes. Whatever. Whenever you want."
"Okay" she said. "I'll have to wrap my mind around that."
"That's fine" he replied softly. "I have all the time in the world."
They chose to turn around and walk the same way back as they had come. They ended up in some dodgy part of town and decided to take a cab back to the apartment. She couldn't stop laughing.
"Maybe we should stop walking aimlessly around this city" she suggested.
"Maybe" he agreed. "It's a good thing we can do other things."
"Like what?" she asked innocently.
He just kissed her again and she had a pretty good idea what.
…
Epilogue
The next time Quinn sat on a plane with Santana and Rachel, Rachel didn't have to tell Quinn to be nice. She was generally a much nicer person now. And this time, there was nothing pathetic about the fact that Rachel had spent most of the previous year planning this lake house trip.
"Did you buy the shoes I suggested?" she asked Quinn.
"No" Quinn said. "I would never spend that much money on a pair of strappy sandals in coral."
Rachel pouted.
"What are you wearing then? Sneakers?"
"I bought a perfectly nice coral pair for a tenth of the prize of the ones you suggested."
"What are you arguing about?" Santana asked, pulling out her headphones.
"Quinn didn't buy the shoes I strongly suggested."
"Neither did I" Santana responded lazily.
"What? What's your argument? You could just have worn them out on the street and the brand would have paid you for wearing them."
"They were ugly" Santana said, shrugging. "Sorry."
Quinn smiled. Despite the fact that the three of them no longer lived in the same city, with Santana off in LA, they were much closer than they had been two years ago when they last took this trip.
"You're the worst bridesmaids in the world" Rachel muttered glumly.
"Oh, honey" Santana drawled. "Don't say that. Don't you remember your bachelorette party? Singing On my own in front full seated theatre? You've always dreamed of playing that chick in Les Miserables, right?"
"I was wasted" Rachel countered. "You made me drink my bodyweight in Vodka before telling me about the singing."
"But it was much more fun that way" Santana smiled. "The viewers on Youtube agree!"
Rachel flipped her off. Quinn sat in the middle and as usual acted as the neutral ground.
"We're wearing all coral" she reminded Rachel in a calm voice. "That's what you requested. I'll wear it for you, even though it washes out my face."
"Nothing washes out your face" Rachel told Quinn.
"True, Q" Santana said. "You're skin looks great."
Quinn laughed and shook her head. They could be fighting and two seconds later, they would agree again, disagreeing with Quinn.
"I'm just saying" she said. "The shoes will match the dress, Rachel. I promise."
Rachel nodded, at least somewhat pleased, as the captain announced that all passengers should return to their seats and put on their seatbelts.
…
"Excuse me, sir," a caterer asked. "where do you want me to store the artichokes over night?"
Puck looked at the man's face for almost five seconds before responding. He was not used to being called sir, like he was some kind of boss.
"I don't know" he responded to the patiently waiting caterer. "You should probably ask the groom. He's over there."
Puck pointed over to the deck where Stephen was talking to Kurt and Mike about something. The man excused himself and carried his artichokes over to them. Puck himself felt almost nervous, even though he wasn't the one getting married in the morning.
"It's chaos" Stephen sighed, sidling up next to him a moment later, holding the artichokes in bowl.
"Nah" Puck said. "It'll be fine."
"Rachel will be here in less than an hour and the wedding canopy isn't even up yet."
"You'll just have to distract her for a few hours" Puck suggested.
Stephen didn't look relieved.
"We shouldn't have spent last night drinking" he said. "Rachel will kill me."
"No, she won't" Puck promised. "If she does, when will she be able wear the expensive dress I'm sure you bought her."
Stephen snickered.
"Me? I didn't buy her anything. Her dads did. Do you know how much it costs?"
"No" Puck replied honestly. "I really don't."
"I wish I didn't either."
"We should really find a place for those artichokes" Puck suggested.
"I have no idea where you store vegetables overnight."
"I was going to suggest the fridge but that might be stupid."
Stephen shrugged. He was very handsome, in a show choir sort of way, with tidy hair and angular features. In all honesty, the two of them have very little in common but had bonded anyway. Stephen probably liked having one male friend that wasn't in love with him and Puck liked to have an ally in the group of actors he more or less worked for.
"I think I hear a car" Puck said.
"They're not supposed to be here yet."
"I still hear a car."
"Fuck."
Stephen disappeared with the huge bowl of artichokes. Puck was left alone but only for a minute before Leroy Berry pulled on his arm.
"Noah" he said, smiling through the stress. "I really need someone to blow up the air mattresses. The handymen refuse. Would you…?"
Puck glanced towards the driveway. He could see a cab there but he could also feel Leroy's anguish.
"Sure" he said. "Of course."
"I knew I could count on you" Leroy grinned. "Everything's upstairs in the big guestroom. Thank you."
Puck glanced once more towards the cab. He saw Rachel getting out before sighing and going into the house. It wasn't like he needed to be there to greet her, anyway. He wasn't the one getting married this weekend.
…
"Do you want a hand?"
He looked up from the pump and smiled hesitantly.
"I don't know why I always get stuck with these mattresses."
"You're not doing it right."
Quinn walked up to him and took the heavy fabric from him.
"You pump, I'll hold it."
"Did you come up here just to tell me what to do?" he asked.
She just rolled her eyes. They worked in silence, filling not one but two mattresses with air, before they spoke again. He placed the pump on the floor and flexed his arms. She stepped closer to him.
"Hi" she said softly.
"Hi" he said.
"You delivered the groom in one piece?"
"Yes. And you the bride?"
"She's never been better."
He grinned and she smiled back.
"I missed you" he blurted out.
"I saw you three days ago" she reminded him but her smile said that she had missed him too.
She wasn't good at admitting things like that in words. Maybe she had never been, even before Henry had partly brainwashed her into thinking love was about casual companionship.
He managed, though. He had learned to read her face and her actions. And when she said something, it was worth a thousand times more.
"Do you remember emptying this very mattress two years ago?" he asked, always the nostalgic.
"Yes" she said. "That was a lot less work."
He kissed her then. He just couldn't wait any longer. She leaned into his kiss; another proof that she had missed him almost as much as he had missed her.
"We should go outside" she said when the broke apart. "Rachel's probably expecting some kind of speech."
"Or she's screaming about artichokes."
She looked puzzled.
"What?"
He kissed her forehead.
"Nothing."
They started down the stairs. It was too narrow to walk side by side so he walked behind her. Her long, blonde hair bobbed against her shoulders at every step. The last time they were here she had cut her short. She had worn glasses and a pencil skirt and unpractical skirt. She still wore all those things to work but never outside of it. She kicked off the shoes before she even took the stairs up the apartment these days.
"Did you tell them?" he asked her as they reached the bottom of the stairs.
"No" she replied. "We agreed not to."
"I know but… you know…"
"I didn't tell" she said. "Did you?"
"No. Of course not."
She took his hand as they exited the house.
"This is Rachel's weekend" she said.
"Don't I know it" he replied.
…
Of course there were games this time around too. Quinn and Puck were once again paired up with the Changs who had just arrived with their children, six year old Penny and little Stuart, from the local hotel they were staying at. The forest hike was a lot more enjoyable this time around. Firstly, they weren't actually looking for different kinds of flowers anymore but answered questions about Rachel and Stephen that were posted on tree trunks following a path. Secondly, it was fun being around the kids. Penny ran ahead of the group and pretended to read the words out to them even though she could hardly read. Mike carried Stuart most of the way but at some less steep areas he walked, hand in hand with one of the adults. Thirdly, she was wearing better shoes. And lastly, she was no longer fighting with Puck. They had gone from being estranged enemies to a domestic couple in less than two years.
"Are we turning into the Changs?" Puck whispered in her ear.
She grinned.
"Never" she replied.
"Are you sure?" he asked. "The only thing that's missing is the matching track suits."
She laughed. Little Stuart was wandering close to her and she took his little hand. He looked up and smiled at her. She looked away from Puck. She knew the way he was looking at her.
"Hey guys" Mike called out from the next tree. "How many shows did Stephen do off Broadway before his first Broadway premiere?"
"No idea" Quinn replied. "What are the alternatives?"
"Three, four or five."
"I think it's four" Puck said.
They all turned to stare at him.
"What?" he replied, shrugging. "I'm in the business now. I hear things."
Mike shook his head at but filled in X on the sheet.
"I think that was the first question about Stephen" Tina said to Quinn.
She lifted up Stuart as they started up a slight hill. He was now in eyelevel with Quinn and he kept smiling at her.
"He likes blondes" Tina said. "I think it's a unicorn effect, you know."
"No, not really."
"He sees a lot of black haired people. Or brown, at least, so when he is able to stare at someone with yellow hair, it excites him."
"Maybe he and I should hang out more."
"You should. Are you coming home to Lima this summer?"
Quinn shook her head.
"I don't know yet. I don't know when I can get off work. Mom's coming to the city in May, though. She's going to help us look for a new place."
"Oh, that's nice. Mom helped me decorate our house. I never knew that there so many shades of white."
"I'd like just one shade of white" Quinn sighed. "I'm sick of brick walls and concrete floors."
"I bet."
They were falling behind Puck, Mike and Penny who were racing up the hill.
"Look, Quinn" Tina said. "I know I was hard on you last time we were here. I just… I guess I was insecure in my role as a wife and a mother and I somehow thought that if you left your partner, it would mean that Mike would leave me. I mean, I was pregnant and hormonal. I'm sorry."
"You never said that you were pregnant."
"I know. It was early on and I wasn't ready to tell anyone yet. I probably should have. Maybe you would have understood me better."
"It's fine. Honestly, I see your point now. I mean, I ended it with Henry because I realized that I didn't love him enough."
"Enough for what?"
"I don't know. Enough for… life? Enough to stay faithful, at least."
Stuart reached out a tiny hand and grabbed a strand of Quinn's hair. He didn't tug it, just held in his little hand. Quinn let him do it. Tina watched him.
"Do you know if he's seeing anyone new?" she asked. "Henry, I mean."
"No, not really" Quinn replied. "I haven't seen him in ages."
"Never tempted?"
"No, never."
Puck and Mike had finally stopped and were waiting for them at the last question.
"Stuart loves Quinn" Tina said in a baby voice to Mike.
"Don't we all" Puck said.
Quinn elbowed him in the side but when Stuart finally let go of her hair, she leaned over kissed his cheek.
"What was that for?" he asked.
"Everything" she replied because she couldn't explain it better.
…
Most of the guests would arrive tomorrow so the night before felt like a new high school reunion but with a few additions. Leroy and Hiram were there, of course, and so was Stephen's mother. Kurt's new boyfriend was there and sat next to Mercedes boyfriend. Most of Rachel and Stephen's Broadway friends were flying down after the show tonight and hadn't arrived yet. Quinn sat next to Puck and Santana. She was famished and kept refilling her plate with mushroom ravioli as she listened to the others talk in each other's mouths.
"Let's take turns" Kurt ordered. "I'm dying to know what all are you are doing now."
"I'll start" Santana volunteered.
"Of course you will" Puck muttered.
She ignored him.
"I work in Hollywood" she said and then she smiled the kind of smile that made it impossible to hate her.
"You play a sixteen year old on TV" Puck remarked.
"I swear she's almost eighteen now" Santana replied.
"And you're going to be in a movie" Quinn offered.
"Thank you, Q. I am. Spielberg is one of the executive producers, thank you very much."
"Why are you encouraging her?" Puck whispered amusedly in Quinn's ear.
"I don't know" she whispered back. "I just feel proud of her."
Kurt told them about his and Eric's life in San Francisco, Sam had moved back to teach at McKinley, Mercedes was still her music thing in LA and Brittany still owned her dance studio in Texas. They all seemed happy with their lives, even Sam. She hoped that he was completely over her now.
"What about you, Noah?" Leroy asked.
Quinn had always wondered if Rachel's dad had had a thing for Puck. He always seemed to hold on his arm in a very protective sort of way. Either he was secretly in love with the man half his age or he wanted his little Jewish princess to be.
"Well," Puck said, looking at her. "I work in stage management and prop construction on some Broadway shows. And I live with her."
He nudged his head in her direction. She rolled her eyes, because that was her thing.
"And you, Quinn?"
"I live with him."
"That's it?" Kurt asked. "You're his housewife?"
"No" she sighed. "I work as a women's rights lawyer in Brooklyn."
"Of course you do" Kurt smiled.
"When are you getting married then?" Mercedes asked. "We need another date to meet up."
"Don't ask me" Puck said. "I asked her on our first real date. She said that she would think about it."
They all laughed and no one pressed the subject further. Instead Hiram told an extremely boring story about the trip he took the Bahamas this Christmas.
…
He fell asleep on one of the inflatable mattresses a few hours later. Alone. And he knew that Quinn wouldn't wake him in the middle of night to slide down to next him. She was in the double bed with Santana and Rachel in the other room. The last time they had been here, there had been so much urgency in every action. He had tried to say so much with every little word and she had acted rashly out of fear of losing the moment. This time, however, he felt calm. Sure, it would have been nice to have her here, but he had her every other night of the year. They both came home late from work and going to bed together was a habit he loved. They could stay awake for hours in the dark, just discussing the weather or the cases Quinn was working on or just the future. He liked talked about the future best.
He awoke on the same inflatable mattress eight hours later. The day of the wedding. Stephen's brother Greg was the best man but he wasn't arriving until an hour before the ceremony from Florida so Puck had arranged the bachelor party in New York, helped Stephen narrow down the guest list and been ordered around by Rachel a lot. This morning, he pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, thinking that he probably had some heavy lifting to do before the noon wedding. He was right. The canopy still needed to be set up and the handy men were unable to make it stable. He helped the florist dress it white roses and lilies before even eating breakfast. It was a habit now, the fixing. At work, it was more or less his job description.
"I love you" Rachel told him and kissed both his cheeks. "You're a fixer. I should have married you instead. Stephan can't even drill a hole in a wall without hurting himself."
"Neither can you" Stephen commented, dragging his fiancé away for a kiss.
Puck walked over and sat down on a chair next to Quinn. She was eating a banana.
"Not hungry?" he asked.
"Not really" she replied, smiling.
He drank his coffee slowly, looking out over the lake and reminiscing about the past.
"San, maybe we should swim across the lake?" he suggested.
"Yes" she agreed happily. "Tonight?"
"No" Quinn interjected. "No one is swimming across the lake."
"It was fine the last time, Q" Santana drawled. "I brought him back in one piece."
"Barely."
"Brit, you want to do it?" Santana asked.
Brittany looked up from her bowl of yoghurt. She grinned, ever excited for adventure.
"Yes" she said. "Now?"
"No, later. I need to be a little bit drunk to even get into the water."
"Okay."
Puck looked between them. Santana had continued to "date" a bunch of reality stars and semi-famous singers for publicity. He had no idea if Brittany had a significant other. He didn't even know if they had spoken since the last time they had been here. Santana often refrained from talking about things that hurt.
"Who has the programs?" Rachel suddenly yelled out. "Did we forget to bring them from New York?"
"We decided against them, remember?" Quinn said slowly.
"No, we didn't."
"Yes, I promise. We decided it's excessive since it's a small service."
"Oh. Right."
Puck couldn't wait until this day was over and the vibe would be more relaxed.
…
Rachel married Stephen on a somewhat chilly but clear spring day. Instead of vows, they had written songs to each other. Quinn read a poem about everlasting love that Puck thought that he remembered from Finn's funeral. It made Rachel cry. Puck actually had to bite his cheek to keep his feeling intact. Quinn looked composed, though, in her coral dress and coral shoes and beautiful face. She read the poem with a seriousness that was uncommon at weddings but wouldn't have looked out of place at a trial. She smiled at the end of it, though, and Puck smiled too, even though she wasn't looking at him.
"I do" Rachel said between sobs.
"So do I" said Stephen.
They kissed and fifty of their closest friends and family cheered. Puck couldn't help but think of how much had changed since Rachel last wore a wedding dress. What if she had married Finn in High School? Would he still be alive? Would Puck never have gone into the air force to get away from it all? Would he never have lost Quinn in the first place?
"Hi" she whispered as they walked back down the aisle between white chairs.
"I liked your poem" he said.
"I was trying not to cry the whole way through."
"Really?"
"Yes, didn't it show?"
"No, you're good at hiding your emotions. Always have been."
She took his hand and squeezed it.
"At our wedding" he began, "do you want to sing a duet or separate vow songs like Rachel and Stephen?"
She giggled softly.
"Neither."
"I suspected that."
"I like the idea of city hall better. No vows. No emotional turmoil" she said.
"How very romantic…"
"It will be" she promised. "You and I will be there."
"And a witness, right? That's how the law works?"
"Something like that" she smiled.
…
Most of the guests left before midnight. It was a long drive back to any kind of hotel or city to stay the night. Only the ones staying in the house remained on the porch with blankets over their knees, drinking wine and eating small pieces of wedding cake. Rachel and Stephen had left too, for their Costa Rica honeymoon.
"Is it our job to clean in the morning?" Santana asked with horror.
"No" Quinn replied, stifling a yawn. "I made her hire some kind of cleaning company. They'll be here at eight."
"In the morning?"
"Yes."
"I hope they won't wake us up."
"Should we move inside?" Sam asked. "I'm freezing my ass off."
They did. Quinn kept in the blanket around her as she sat down on the couch. She had promised herself not to go bed first, despite how tired she felt. She wanted to be here now. In this moment.
"Speaking about moving" Tina said. "I heard you and Quinn are moving, Puck?"
Santana's mouth fell open.
"You're moving?"
Quinn realized that she shouldn't have told Tina. It had just slipped out. It wasn't like moving out of a dumpy apartment was a big deal to a normal person. It was just that Santana would read into this like crazy.
"What do you care, San?" Puck asked. "You moved out two years ago. You don't even live in New York anymore."
"But… we've had the apartment for like twelve years. We have all stayed there, right? Rachel, Kurt, Blaine, Mercedes, Sam, me…"
"I know but you all moved out" Quinn interjected.
"Because of other circumstances" Santana argued. "What's your excuse?"
"I'm sick of the concrete floor" Quinn said.
"We can afford something better" Puck added.
"We want something bigger" Quinn said.
"Bigger?" Santana almost yelled. "It has two bedrooms. One for you and one for me when I come to visit. What else could you possibly need?"
"I would like a safe neighborhood" Quinn said softly. "Maybe an elevator. A secure lock. And less concrete."
Santana was quiet for a minute. She stared at them with a suspicious look on her face. Quinn exhaled slowly and tried to find a new subject.
"You're pregnant" Santana said.
"San" Kurt said warningly. "That's not an okay thing to suggest."
"It's not that she's fat" Santana drawled. "She's not drinking."
"I'm not drinking either" Tina argued.
"You're a bore" Santana unapologetically said. "Quinn's usually not."
"San" Puck said, mimicking Kurt's warningly tone. "Watch your words."
"You're not even trying to disagree with me!"
"San, why is it a big deal that we're leaving the apartment? Some kids in their early twenties will love to live there. They will have parties and fight and move out and in just as crazy as we did" Quinn tried.
"It's not about the apartment" Santana insisted. "Why didn't you tell me that you're having a baby?"
There was no opportunity to change the subject. They were all looking at her. She pulled the blanket further up her torso.
"You're not supposed to tell anyone until week twelve" she said in a small voice. "And it's Rachel's wedding. We didn't want to distract from that."
Santana seemed lost for words. Luckily, Tina was not. She jumped up and gave them both big hugs.
"I'm so happy for you" she beamed. "You'll be perfect parents."
"Was this planned?" Santana asked harshly.
She sounded as if she had been deeply betrayed, no joyous smiled there.
"Santana, you can't ask that" Tina exclaimed.
"I'm sorry" Santana said without sounding sorry. "I just want to know if you have been keeping this from me for like a year while trying to have kids or just twelve weeks?"
"Just eleven weeks" Puck said, speaking up for the first time.
Quinn knew why he had been quiet. He didn't know how much she wanted to get out. If she hadn't stopped him, he would have told every single the person the second her period was late.
"You didn't plan it?"
"When do Quinn and I ever plan babies?"
They all laughed. It was scary having them all looking at her. It seemed more real now, not like a little project that she and Puck had in secret. Santana was smiling now. Apparently she could accept an accidental pregnancy.
"Are you happy about it?" she asked.
"Yes" Puck said.
"Not you, I know that you're happy."
"Yes" Quinn replied. "I'm happy too.
"No lying about the baby father this time?" Mike asked.
She smiled.
"No, not this time."
When the cat was out of the bag, she could blame pregnancy and go to bed early. Puck followed her up the stairs. He kissed her on the landing.
"Promise that we're not turning into the Changs?" she whispered.
"Promise" he whispered back. "They would never get pregnant by accident."
"And they got married before they had kids."
"Well…" he said. "Maybe we should be more like the Changs in that area."
She just rolled her eyes and kissed him goodnight.
…
The first sweltering hot day they took the circle line cruise. For old times' sake. This time they managed to get tickets to the day tour and weren't stuck with sappy music during the boat ride. She wore a loose white t-shirt and didn't look at all pregnant. They had brought a picnic and ate it as a guide spoke a monotonous voice about the island Manhattan.
"Do you remember the last time we took this cruise?" she asked.
"Of course."
"Do you remember what we talked about?"
"I don't know" he said. "Light topics, I guess. It was the first time we spent time together."
"Do you remember that a guy proposed to his girlfriend?"
"Vaguely" he lied.
He remembered all of it. He was just trying to figure out where she was going with this.
"And I told you never to propose to someone in front of a crowd?"
"I have lived by that."
"I know."
She held out a box of strawberries to him and he took one. She took one too and popped it into her mouth. She ate copious amounts of strawberries now. He called it a craving but she refused to acknowledge it as that.
"I think we should get married" she said suddenly.
He froze with his hand on the strawberry box.
"Really?"
"Yes."
"What has led you to this conclusion?" he asked. "I thought you found marriage a patriarchal institution."
He fought to keep his voice level. He brought up marriage often, maybe even too often, and she always shot him down. Not in an abrasive or mean way but it was clear that they did not have the same romantic idea of what marriage could mean to them.
"I'm compromising" she said.
"In what way is agreeing to get married a compromise for you?"
"We're having a baby in five months. We need to make some legal arrangements anyway. It will, paperwork wise, be easier if we just get married. The baby will be protected if one of us dies. We will inherit each other."
"You're such a romantic, Quinn" he sighed.
"Isn't it romantic, thought?" she asked. "I want you to take care of our child if I die. Isn't that the most romantic gesture in the world?"
He smiled and leaned over to kiss her forehead.
"I guess so."
"You can decide on the wedding. I would prefer not to have wedding pictures from when I'm eight months pregnant but whatever, I'll deal with it. You can decide."
"You don't care?" he asked.
"Of course I care but not as much as you do. And I want you to be happy."
She took his face in her hands. He could feel the sweat of her hands, she was always hot now, but he couldn't have minded less.
"I love you" she said. "I want to be with you until I die. That's enough for me. If you want me to say that in front of a minister, my mother and a few friends, I'm okay with that."
He leaned his head forward so that their mouths touched.
"Is this your public proposal?" he whispered against her lips.
"Yes" she said.
"Then how can I say no?"