A/N: Hey guys, sorry it's been so long since the last update, life has kinda gotten in the way a bit. But here's your next installment - just a note, I do know that Tavern on the Green in Central Park is no longer a restaurant (but we can pretend that is still is for a bit) Just to warn you, this chapter does jump around a lot between flashbacks and their present but I've tried to make that clear. Hope you all enjoy!

Chapter 20: Sweet Disposition

The sun did its best to keep the chill away from that day. The bride shivered lightly in her beautiful floor length ivory gown, but refused to give into the cool October breeze that occasionally swept through the park.

Light brown and amber leaves crinkled and swept underfoot as Quinn and Santana held onto each other as they made their way over to the gathering congregation situated on the grass.
Goosebumps caressed Santana's skin. 'You'd think in October they'd think about having an indoor wedding…' She mumbled.
Quinn elbowed her with a chuckle. 'It's perfect just as it is.'
'How do you know them again…?'
Quinn smiled. 'The groom and I met that day the subway bomb went off. He saved my life and took care of me.'
'He's that guy?'
Quinn laughed at her reaction. 'Yeah.' She spotted him through a gap in the crowd and pointed him out to her. 'That's him.'
Santana gawped. 'Dude is hot.'
She shook her head smiling while keeping her walking. 'Come on.'

They slipped in among the congregation, Sam spotting Quinn after a few moments. He pushed the palm of his hand against the small of Romy's back and whispered in her ear. 'Come meet a friend of mine.'

Quinn turned her head to be met with Sam's smile and his auburn-haired bride.
'Hey Quinn!' He beamed. 'Thanks for coming…'
She beamed back. 'I wouldn't miss it for the world.'
'Quinn, meet Romy…' Her eyes drifted over to an auburn haired beauty with sparkling green eyes. He lightly kissed her cheek. 'Baby, meet my friend Quinn.'
The two women shook hands politely and smiled at each other.
'It's nice to finally meet you Quinn.'
Quinn smiled as genuinely as she could. 'You too.'
Santana cleared her throat with a cough and the blonde rolled her eyes at her lack of subtlety. 'Sam, this is my friend Santana…' She gestured towards her. 'San, this is Sam…'
Sam shook her hand respectfully. 'Good to meet you Santana.'
Luckily she decided to behave. She smiled back. 'You too. Congratulations by the way.'
Sam wrapped an arm around Romy's lower back and nodded with a gracious smile. 'Thank you very much.'

As they decided to stop holding the line up, Quinn nudged Santana as they walked away. 'Thank you for behaving.'
Santana rolled her eyes. 'I'm a bitch Q, but I do have class.'
She scoffed. 'Since when?' Santana shoved her shoulder hard as Quinn laughed. They both spotted the few rows of white seats placed neatly on the grass under a patch of trees. 'Come on, people are starting to get their seats…'

The congregation was small, and the ceremony was beautiful. White rose petals mixed with amber coloured autumn leaves lining the path that Sam walked down first. Dressed in a black suit with a creamy yellow tie, he walked calmly down the impromptu aisle and kissed his mother's cheek respectfully, earning a tearful smile and a handshake from his father and a clap on the shoulder blade before he took his spot by the vicar.

Romy looked just as beautiful. In a floor-length strapless gown, she floated down the aisle, followed by two unknown bridesmaids dressed in matching creamy yellow dresses. Romy held a small bouquet of a few white and yellow roses held together by a thin white ribbon. Her auburn hair was pinned back by bobby pins decorated with white roses. Quinn smiled to herself. There's a theme here, she mused watching the bride glide down the aisle toward her groom. While everyone was still staring at Romy, Quinn turned to watch Sam. He hadn't turned around to watch her walk down the aisle toward him, just patiently waited to see her.

And when he finally saw her, his reaction caught the breath in the back of Quinn's throat. He grinned at his bride by his side, and Quinn could have swore she saw him mouth 'you look beautiful' at her. A warm sensation filled her stomach, knowing she was about to witness Sam finding his happy ending.

Her mind couldn't help but wander. She couldn't help thinking about when she was with Rachel and Kurt talking about marriage. Fun. echoed softly from the laptop speakers beside Kurt at the bottom of the bed.
'Oh no, I definitely know what I want,' Kurt said confidently. 'Blaine will just have to go along with it!'
Quinn smiled. 'So he doesn't get a say?'
Kurt scoffed. 'Who has the better taste out of me and Blaine?'
Kurt had a point. Quinn chuckled. 'I see what you mean.' She shrugged. 'I don't think I wanna get married.'
Rachel looked over at her with a raised eyebrow. 'Ever?' her voice raised in pitch a little.
She shrugged again with a slight nod. 'I guess I just never imagined it for myself. Y'know how every little girl is supposed to imagine their wedding day? I know what my funeral is gonna be like.'
Kurt guffawed. 'That's a little morbid Q!'
She chuckled. 'I guess it's just more realistic to me.'
'Remind me why we're friends again?'
Quinn simply giggled while Rachel sleepily cuddled into her arm.

Quinn would have thought she was hallucinating if Santana hadn't seen it too.
Santana attempted to demolish a slice of cake the size of her fist unsuccessfully, when she spotted what rendered the blonde next to her speechless. She raised her almost black eyes in the direction of the familiar sound.

Quinn sat at the round white table next to her best friend, clutching her silver fork as those haunting notes began to leak through her senses. Those notes that haunted her dreams and still sent a chill creeping down her spine. She slowly turned in her gold chair to face her suspicions.

Little white daisies formed a crown to sit atop her long curled brunette hair, her bangs swept to the side, revealing those sparkling deep brown eyes. The fingertips of her right hand brushed against the black microphone as those hushed notes flowed from her throat.

A moment, a love, a dream, a laugh
A kiss, a cry, our rights, our wrongs,

Quinn felt a hard familiar lump rise up to her chest.

So stay there,
Cause I'll be coming over
And while our blood's still young
It's so young it runs
We won't stop till its over
We won't stop to surrender

Quinn could swear that Rachel was looking straight into her soul. Santana prized the fork out of her grip, she didn't even realise she was still holding onto it. She could feel Santana's dark eyes watching her but she couldn't for the life of her peel her eyes away from the raised stage across the dancefloor. Her pale yellow dress floated swayed around her feet every time she moved, as though she was floating. Quinn thought she looked like an angel. Even on her 'bad' days, Quinn always thought she looked like an angel. She knew she should have been watching the happy couple in the centre of the dancefloor, just like everyone else, but she couldn't help herself. Call her a masochist, but she was too busy immersing herself in every glimpse she could steal of the brunette.

It seemed like Santana couldn't help herself either.
'Oh my god Q, this is amazing...' she groaned through a mouthful of sponge cake with raspberry and white chocolate icing, trying not to spray rogue crumbs everywhere. Quinn peered down at the handful of cake that appeared under her chin. 'Here try some...' Santana mumbled through full hamster cheeks.
Quinn attempted a chuckle. 'You've never looked more attractive San...'
Santana wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and swallowed the remaining cake in her mouth. 'Sorry Q but this has all been reserved for another blonde.'
Quinn clicked her tongue with an exaggerated sigh. 'Damn it. Missed my chance.' She toyed with the glass tumbler within her fingertips. 'Want another drink?'
Santana simply shook her head, instead of risking another crumb shower. Quinn rolled her eyes and chuckled rising out of her seat. Santana and her damn cake.

Quinn leaned heavily against the bar, trying to block out the angelic voice just metres in front of her from her mind. More guests had gathered on the dancefloor, when she felt a hand graze the bottom of her back. She rolled her eyes again; she was definitely not in the mood to be hit on.

'I'm so sorry Quinn...' a familiar voice spoke carefully behind her.
She turned her head to see a sorry looking Sam step beside her at the bar, with his head hung low. '...About Rachel. Romy had said she knew exactly who she wanted to sing tonight, like months ago...A guy she works with recommended her...I just totally forgot...'
Quinn shook her head and gave as easy a smile as she could muster. 'No Sam, it's okay. This is your day, it shouldn't matter...she's doing a great job, and you looked like you were having fun out there. So please, don't worry about me.'
Blue eyes looked at her carefully. 'You sure...?'
She smiled a little more genuinely. 'You're sweet for asking, but honestly I'll be okay. Go have fun...'
Sam jumped slightly when a large hand clapped down on his shoulder. Quinn raised her eyes to an unmistakable mohawked guy wearing a dark charcoal suit and a light blue shirt. He turned to look at the taller guy and smiled looking back to Quinn.
'Ah, speak of the devil!' he exclaimed. 'Quinn, this is the guy Romy works with I was telling you about...'
Of course, it would be Noah Puckerman of all people. His crinkled brown eyes fell on her with a crooked smile. 'Quinn Fabray...'
She smiled back politely. 'Noah Puckerman...'
Sam crinkled his brow. 'Wait...you two know each other...?'
Puck squeezed his shoulder, still smiling at Quinn. 'Quinn and I are old buddies. Ain't that right Q?'
She smiled with a slight chuckle. 'You could say that.'
He turned his attention to the stage over both of their shoulders. 'How right was Romy to go with Rachel...?'
Sam eyed Quinn carefully before responding. 'Yeah, she's fantastic Puck.'
Puck chuckled. 'She's been excited for ages for this gig. She talked about it all the time.'
Quinn blinked in surprise. 'Really...? Has she been doing a lot of weddings...?'
Puck raised a brow in surprise. 'Did she not babble on about it to you constantly?'
Quinn lowered her eyes to the champagne flute that appeared in front of her on the wooden bar. 'Actually we haven't exactly kept in touch so much...'
'Oh...' he responded slowly. 'Well...no, actually. This is her first one; she's still all about Broadway - y'know how she is. I guess that's why she was so excited for this 'gig'.'

Yeah, Quinn knew exactly how she was. She still checked the papers for weekly reviews of Rachel on Broadway; (although she'd never admit to it) just like the brunette would insist they would do together. Quinn would have to read them out to her, simply because Rachel just couldn't bare to do it herself, 'just in case there was anything truly horrific in there'.

The brunette stretched her legs out over Quinn's thighs, thrusting the local arts section of the paper at her as they sat together on the old couch. Quinn raised a brow in her direction.
'Please Quinn...?' Rachel fluttered those long dark eyelashes at the blonde. 'Don't you want to know when your girlfriend becomes critically acclaimed...?'
She folded her arms. 'I'm sure she'll call when she does.'
The brunette swatted her with the paper and dug her bare heels into thighs defined by grey yoga pants. 'Quinn!' she whined childishly.

Hazel eyes shot to brown at the brunette's action, and Quinn released a low growl. She grabbed small wrists and pinned them back, pouncing on her and crushing the paper between them in the process.
'How can I read the paper if you keep abusing me...?' she smiled down at the brunette, goading her.
Rachel tried to kick her feet out underneath the overpowering blonde, giggling. 'Please Quinn? I promise I won't hit you again...'
Quinn narrowed her eyes. 'Promise...?'
Rachel nodded quickly without saying a word. Quinn kissed the side of her tanned neck, then sat back on her side of the couch.
'Thanks stinky...'
Quinn's narrowed hazel eyes shot back to Rachel, and were met with a gleaming white smile from the brunette. Quinn rolled her eyes and picked up the crumpled paper and flicked to the desired page. She didn't even have to look at page numbers anymore.

She sat back down next to Santana, champagne flute in hand. Dark eyes fell back on her. 'What did lover boy want...?'
Quinn pulled her chair in. 'Just a friendly chat.'
Santana looked back over to the bar. 'Is that...Puckerman?' she almost squealed.
Quinn nodded taking a gulp of golden liquid. 'That's the one.' she replied after swallowing harshly.
'What's he doing here?'
'He's the reason Rachel's here.'
'What?' she squealed.
The blonde nodded. 'Turns out he works with the bride. He recommended Rachel's talents to her for the wedding.'
She rolled her eyes. 'Trust Puckerman.' she sighed heavily. She looked from her light pink purse to Quinn. 'I need a smoke, you coming?'
Quinn shrugged with a nonchalant nod. 'I guess so.'

They breezed out of the heavy oak doors, out into the cold night that had descended onto Central Park. They stood side by side against the back wall of the small restaurant while Santana lit up. Santana offered the blonde a drag but she declined.
'Oh come on Q...is it because Rachel's here...? She's not gonna care if you sneak a smoke anymore Quinn...'
Quinn shook her head adamantly, tips of her blonde hair tickling her collarbones. 'I gave up for me.'
Santana scoffed at that. 'You and I both know that's not true. You only quit because Rachel couldn't stand it.'
'She could stand it; she just worried for my health. You know how freaked she got by those documentaries on the Discovery Channel.' Quinn hit back.
Santana was a bitch, but she knew when to not press her blonde best friend. Angry Quinn was not someone the Latina liked to mess with. She held up her hands defensively, the smoking cigarette balancing precariously between her index and middle finger. 'Okay...'
Quinn sighed, slipping her hands behind her back against the wall in an attempt to keep them warm. 'Sorry...' she muttered.
Santana took a drag and held it in momentarily, feeling the slight burn in her chest. 'It's okay.' she exhaled.
Quinn pushed herself away from the feel of the rough bricks. 'I think I'm gonna head back in.' she excused herself with an affirmed nod from her best friend.

But that didn't last long. She walked around the corner, headed for the oak doors emitting inviting warmth, when the sight of a body against the wall stopped her in her tracks.

A pale stream of breath became visible in the air. The small figure stood alone, silently. Quinn was caught. Do I just walk on past? Do I stop? Oh who was she kidding – she already knew what she was going to do.

'Rachel…?'

At first she didn't think Rachel heard her – she made no sign of her acknowledgement that there was anyone standing there. Slowly her head turned, and her face dropped.

'Quinn…what are you doing here…?'

'I know the groom.'

Rachel scoffed to herself. 'Of course you do.' She muttered. 'Santana's here isn't she?' she asked a little louder.

'Yeah, she's with me.'

Rachel chuckled. 'I thought I was just imagining it when I saw you both together.'

Quinn knew she saw them. And then a shiver of realisation rippled through her. 'Oh no, no,' she shook her head quickly. 'We're not together together…that would be weird!'

'Oh…' a fleeting small smile appeared briefly across Rachel's mouth. So small Quinn thought she probably imagined it. 'Okay.'

'You sound amazing up there tonight. It's been so long since I've heard you sing.'

'Yeah…' Rachel smiled a little wider. 'Thanks.'

Quinn couldn't shake the feeling that it shouldn't be like this. This awkward, stunted conversation. 'I saw Puck,' she tried to continue brightly. 'He said he recommended you to Romy.'

Rachel nodded affirmatively. 'Yeah, he comes to most of my shows now.' The blonde couldn't help but feel the thinly veiled dig. She used to be the one at every performance by the small brunette. She just couldn't bring herself to go to them anymore. She was a masochist, but not to that extent.

'Yeah, he tells me you're still living it up on Broadway.'

'A reprisal of Spring Awakening. Apparently 'no one can play Wendla like me'.' That smile that lit up the whole of Rachel's face appeared. It was always the same one every time she talked about Broadway to anyone who'd listen.

Quinn chuckled. 'Yeah I know, I keep reading about your sparkling reviews.' The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them.

A flash of something like realisation sparked in deep brown eyes. 'You still read my reviews…?' she asked timidly.

Well she couldn't deny it anymore, could she? Quinn shrugged. 'Sometimes.' Liar. 'Sometimes I see them mentioned on the front page.' Big fat liar.

Rachel saw straight through it. She knew her dads would call her the day that one of her reviews was mentioned on the front page of any paper they could find. They would know, they scour all the papers weekly for reviews of their little gold star. A small hitch of breath in her throat let Quinn quietly know she was busted.

Rachel asked the question she knew she shouldn't ask.

'D'you maybe wanna get a drink sometime…?'