I know it's short, but it's coming along!- thanks for the reviews, guys :) Also, if you could spare some positive thoughts for my family right now, that would be really good :(
With hope, xleanmean
Rachel wipes the tear trickling over her cheek with the butt of her hand, curling an arm around the pillow tighter. She's exhausted and the girls are right, she should sleep. But she can't until she knows she has what she needs to get Quinn back. The last two hours spent staring at the ceiling in the guest room of the Lopez house did little to ease her mind, Mostly, it just stirred up old memories.
Rachel bats her eyes in the mirror, dropping the lash curler on the counter next to Brittany. One more coat of mascara and that should do it. When Quinn first suggested the four of them go out Rachel nearly fell out of her chair. She had dreamed of that possibility so often in high school that she actually clapped in response, then mumbled an embarrassed agreement as Quinn's chuckled softly. Swiping on her lip gloss, she smiles into the mirror, Brittany smiling back as they sit side by side on the bathroom counter.
This is exactly what high school should have been like.
"Rachel, Brittany, we have to go! Your hair is fine! You both look great! Come onnnn!"
Even the demanding Santana paints the picture just right. Brittany giggles as she pounds on the door for the fourth time since she got home from rehearsal, prattling on about some schedule we're supposed to be sticking to.
"One minute babe!"
Sweeping all the makeup into a bag, the girls check their reflections one more time before opening the door to Santana, standing with hands on hips and toe tapping. Brittany pecks her on the mouth and slips past her, grabbing for her coat off the back of the living room chair.
"So Quinn's going to meet us at the restaurant then?"
"Yeah," Santana says, reaching to hold the coat for her. Rachel's heart warms at the sight, both girls looking radiant for their upscale reservations. Quinn has been hounded the last few weeks with phone calls from places wanting her to come write about them, and this one she said was too good to pass up. Plus, Rachel had to admit, she'd been a little cagey since she quit the Burlesque club. Quinn had assured her no one would recognize them where they were going and she desperately needed time outside.
"She called a few minutes ago and is on her way now. We're gonna meet her in the Broadway district."
She rolls over, squinting to read the wall clock in the darkness. 4:18 am. Pulling the comforter over her shoulders, Rachel burrows into the pillows, officially giving up on the idea of sleep for the night. Maybe Quinn would get to come home today. Maybe tomorrow they would be together in this bed. It didn't matter. She would keep thinking of her until she's back. And as long as the memories were awake, she would be as well.
"Hey," Quinn grins, her eyes glowing as she reaches for Rachel, tugging her in for a quick kiss on the cheek as Santana and Brittany carry on down the sidewalk. "You look great, Rach."
Rachel leans her cheek into her lips, smiling. It didn't matter what was going on, Quinn always greeted her like she was the only person on the planet, and Rachel adored it.
"Hey yourself. How was work?"
Quinn shrugs, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and rubbing it up and down affectionately.
"Oh work, you know. I hope you're hungry!" She adds, excitedly, pulling the two of them down the sidewalk a little faster. It was a little brisk outside, but something about Quinn's rosey cheeks and continuous smile made Rachel think there was something more at work here than the weather.
"Up here, Q?" Santana says, glancing back.
"Yeah, next block up. I just have to make one little stop before dinner." She adds, smiling down at Rachel. "The work of a friend of mine from college is the new exhibit. I told him I'd check it out, maybe write something up for the magazine. It's opening night after all."
Rachel hums in agreement, eyeing the small group of people waiting outside a door up ahead. She knows exactly what gallery is on this street, she'd passed it so many times on her way to and from her show rehearsals when she was on Broadway. She had been to a showing once and knew how hard it was to get in, let alone to get an exhibit there.
"What kind of work does he do?"
"Photography," Quinn says, nodding to a couple on the outskirts of the crowd who she apparently knows as well. Stepping back, she holds open the rustic wooden door and a hand out for Rachel. "We'll only be a minute, Rachel, then on to dinner."
Intertwining their fingers, they walk into the gallery together, dropping their coats at the coat check before turning to walk into the main room.
Rachel's mouth drops open.
The grand entrance is two stories tall, a floor to ceiling black and white of her hands resting on piano keys. Turning into the room, she's blown away by the sheer number of photos layering the wall in all shapes and sizes; everywhere she looks, there are little pieces of her. A smile over a mug of coffee, the shine of a spotlight on hair, shoes tossed in a pile in the corner of Quinn's room, toes peeking out from under sheets, a naked back in the moonlight. She squeezes Quinn's fingers between her own as she walks around the room, breathing in each picture, each moment they'd shared together, almost as if she were reliving them again. The curve of her silhouette on the stage, her favorite book open on the nightstand, fingers tracing rain on a window pane, two toothbrushes side by side. She stops as she gets to the last picture, her hand falling from Quinn's as she moves closer.
This one isn't of her, but of Quinn, smiling her lazy lop sided grin at the camera with an eyebrow raised, the same face Rachel had seen at least a thousand times before. But this time, Quinn is holding a piece of paper with delicate black words scrawled across it in simple handwriting.
One thousand pictures are worth one million words, but, with you, I only need three.
Turning to meet Quinn's eyes, she flutters at the weight of the emotion there, her own eyes welling. The left side of Quinn's mouth quirks up as she leans forward, pressing a kiss to Rachel's temple, her fingers curling the loose brown hair behind her ear.
"I love you, Rachel."
The full husk of it settles warmly in her chest, gathering behind her heart, beating through her skin. Resting her palm gently against Quinn's cheek, she brings their lips together, once, twice, three times, tracing her thumb slowly along her jaw. Smiling shyly, their hands find each other in the bustling room of gallery hoppers, weaving together as they had so many times before, except this time, with forever in mind.
She never said it back.
Rachel folds her hands together over her stomach, staring blankly at the ceiling. She knows she's made a lot of mistakes when it comes to Quinn. Not being strong enough to say no to her, to keep her out of the middle of this situation, to keep her safe... but of all the things she should have done, she never told Quinn she loved her.
Rolling back to her side, she watches the seconds tick by on the clock.
She would not lose Quinn. Period. And when she got her back she would do everything in her power to make sure Maroney went away for good, however long that took.
If Vincent Maroney wanted a war, Rachel Berry would bring it right to his doorstep.