A/N: Sorry for the delay. Real life has become super busy. Thank you for continuing to read and comment!
Still off the Key of Reason
Chapter 18: Lego House
Rachel adjusted her feet against the coffee table and patted the heavy blonde head on her stomach.
"Listen to this one, Quinn." She requested quietly, brushing the hair out of her wife's face. Quinn's eyes were closed and her hand was fisted in Rachel's shirt, and Rachel only knew she was awake because she groaned periodically.
"Brown hair, green eyes, average height." Rachel listed from the papers in her hand. "He's a second grade teacher and he plays the guitar and coaches little league baseball."
Rachel figured elementary school teachers had to be quality people. Anybody who could deal with thirty six-year-olds at a time without flying off the handle was a quality person. She waited for a response.
Quinn grumbled and pressed her face further into Rachel's stomach.
"Baby." Rachel urged, trying not to smile. Quinn was probably slobbering on her. "He sounds pleasant, right?" She put a hand on Quinn's head and lolled it back and forth. All of her wife's limbs were pulled close to her body like a turtle.
Quinn whined and rolled a bit so that Rachel could see her flushed, tired face. The overhead fan blew her hair back into her eyes.
"Do you like him?" Rachel asked again when Quinn just stared.
Quinn scrunched up her nose, eyeing Rachel. She looked delirious, and Rachel squeezed her cheeks together until Quinn spoke. "Why-why did you make me eat so much, Rachel?" she moaned hoarsely. "I feel like one of those-I feel like a puffer fish."
Rachel chuckled, trying not to jostle Quinn's head. She rested a hand on Quinn's stomach and tapped it softly with her fingers.
"You were unstoppable, honey. And you'll deflate soon."
Hopefully in a nice, calm way.
Quinn stared for another second, and then sighed dramatically, snuggling closer to Rachel. "I love-I love spaghetti."
Rachel laughed shortly and ran a hand through Quinn's hair. "I know, bear." She indulged. "Now tell me, do you like this guy or not?"
Of course, Rachel would prefer an established actor or dancer or a Broadway star of her caliber, but nobody who fit that bill was in her little stack of papers. She was settling for guys who seemed at least musically inclined. And who didn't read like serial killers or perverts.
"He needs brown eyes." Quinn mumbled, poking Rachel's stomach. "Read another one."
Rachel grabbed Quinn's finger and squeezed it to get her to stop. "Okay," she started, "brown hair, brown eyes, average height, works in interior design, and volunteers at an after-school dance program in the city."
Quinn scrunched up her nose.
"And he paints and likes bike riding." Rachel added, briefly traumatizing herself by wondering if this was Kurt before she remembered that he had blue eyes.
Quinn reached up and grabbed Rachel's arm and started playing with her fingers and the end of her long sleeve. "I want an astronaut." She murmured. "That would be ideal. He'd be clever."
Rachel sighed exasperatedly. "Quinn, you're being impossible." She palmed her wife's hot cheeks and raised an eyebrow when Quinn met her gaze. Rachel was sure she was trying to look as pathetic as possible.
"I don't feel well." Quinn defended weakly, snuggling further into Rachel's lap. It was like Barnaby trying to fit in Jelly's cat bed.
Rachel fought the urge to kiss her all over. "You should've thought of this before you used the whole carton of spaghetti."
"This is my shirt, Rachel bear." Quinn remarked, ignoring Rachel's statement and tugging on her purple sleeve. "The sleeves are too long for you."
Rachel rolled her eyes.
Quinn swallowed and pressed the side of her face back to Rachel's stomach. "I can't hear your heart beat." She whispered after a second.
Rachel wondered if spaghetti could cause brain damage.
She ran a finger along the bridge of Quinn's nose and up over her eyebrow. "That's because you're listening to my stomach." She said with a smile.
Quinn scrambled up clumsily and shifted her ear to Rachel's left breast, elbowing Rachel in the ribs accidentally and knocking her head into Rachel's chin before settling. Rachel wrapped an arm around her to hold her still.
"Bear, focus." Rachel instructed when Quinn sighed contentedly. Quinn nodded against her chest. "Here's another one. Brown hair, brown eyes, medium height, graphic designer, teaches guitar and drums on the weekends."
Rachel smiled when she read the next line. "And he has a dog named Deenie."
Quinn's eyes opened fully. "What-what kind of dog is it?" she asked blearily.
Because that was the most important part of choosing a donor. Knowing what kind of dog he possessed.
"A black Labrador." Rachel replied, glad to have Quinn's full attention, however impaired it was.
Quinn half-smiled. "I wish we could meet him." she mused. "It would tell us a lot about who he is."
Rachel frowned. "The guy or the dog?"
"Deenie." Quinn stated like it was obvious. "He could tell us everything."
Rachel leaned further back into the couch cushions and watched Quinn's face for a second. She had to smile. Quinn was flushed and tired and suffering from spaghetti over-indulgence and delirium, but she was still making an honest effort to engage Rachel in this conversation.
"Baby, we ruled out people we know as donors because they'd probably feel obligated to fulfill some kind of parental role." Rachel said reasonably. "You don't actually want to meet the guy first, right?"
Rachel would prefer to avoid creating a giant web of unnecessary familial obligations, thank you very much.
Quinn shook her head immediately. "Just Deenie."
Rachel smiled. "But the guy's a maybe?" she checked.
Quinn hummed vaguely, closing her eyes again and cuddling even closer. Rachel took it as a yes. She stroked Quinn's hair fondly and stayed quiet for a minute, listening to her wife's breathing and enjoying the warm, comforting weight on her chest.
Quinn's lips moved like she was mouthing along to Rachel's heartbeat.
"Bear, let's go to bed." Rachel finally suggested, stilling her hand on Quinn's head.
Quinn groaned softly. "No." she murmured. "Keep going. I liked that one. He's sat-satisfactory. If it can't be you, it can be him."
Rachel smiled. "Because of his dog?"
"Because he likes art and music, and he's smart if he's a graphic designer." Quinn explained, slowly shaking her head. "And I met a policeman once in Central Park, and he was riding a black and white horse named Deenie. It's…meant to be."
Rachel wasn't sure how solidly she trusted Quinn's evaluation criteria.
"We'll review all of these when you're awake and in your right mind." She suggested, shifting a bit to indicate that they should go to bed.
Quinn chuckled deliriously. "And when I've deflated, right?" she sat up slowly and tried to brush the fluffy mess of hair out of her bright eyes. "I am in my right mind."
Rachel leaned forward and kissed her warm cheek. "When you feel better."
Quinn stumbled into the coffee table when she stood up, and Rachel wrapped an arm around her and shoved the dogs out of their way.
"Rachel." Quinn said seriously, stopping next to the fish tank and eyeing Franklin the turtle. "We should get a puf-puffer fish."
Rachel laughed shortly and tugged on Quinn's arm to keep her moving.
"They eat crust-crustaceans and mollusks." Quinn continued, focus wandering. "And they're the second most poisonous vertebrates in the world."
Which is exactly what this house full of curious dogs and cats needed. Rachel knew for a fact that if she tried to get a puffer fish, it would end up lodged in her skin before even touching the water in the aquarium.
"Don't they live in salt water?" she questioned, tipping Quinn onto the bed. "Franklin likes his fresh water."
Quinn faltered.
"You're not thinking straight, bear." Rachel said with a quiet laugh. She pressed a kiss to Quinn's lips and then to her forehead. "You don't need a puffer fish. We'll have a baby soon."
Quinn's smile split her face. She nodded against the pillow and pulled Rachel back on top of her for a hug. "I can't wait, baby." She whispered against Rachel's hair.
Rachel gave up trying to remain standing and just collapsed on top of her wife with a loud grunt. Quinn laughed and rolled Rachel off of her stomach, and Rachel realized that Quinn smelled like spaghetti.
"I can't wait either." Rachel promised, letting Quinn hold her just until she fell asleep. "It'll be the best day."
~oooooooooooo~
Rehearsals for Hello Dolly started the next week, halfway through August. Rachel blinked her eyes open on the morning of the first day to find Quinn sitting on the edge of the bed, staring down at her fondly. She was dressed for work and she smelled like minty toothpaste and donuts.
Rachel groaned and tried to bury her face in the pillow.
"Hold on, baby." Quinn requested, prying the pillow away. "You can go back to sleep in a minute."
There was something lying on Rachel's legs, and she blinked her eyes open to see that it was Cloud, which is why she was sweltering under the blankets. Barnaby was in Quinn's spot on the other side of the bed.
"What do you want, bear?" Rachel grumbled, pressing a hand to her forehead to hold her eyelids open.
Quinn smiled softly at her. She rested a hand on Rachel's hip. "I'll be gone by the time you leave, and today's your first day." She stated, leaning forward. "I just wanted to tell you that you're a star and that stage is where you belong, and it's okay to be nervous. Also, I love you, and I wish you all the luck in the world even though you don't need it because you'll be marvelous like always."
Rachel was far from humble, but she felt herself flush at her wife's words. Quinn grinned and tilted forward to press a kiss to her forehead.
"I made you a lunch." Quinn continued. Rachel smiled. "A sandwich with that guacamole you like, even though it has onions, and half of the sugar cookies I made."
Rachel narrowed her eyes. "How many is half?"
"Nine." Quinn answered easily, tapping her fingers over the blanket on Rachel's hip.
It was actually less than Rachel was expecting. She'd be able to eat nine cookies with her lunch. Broadway was exhausting.
"Do you have the other half?" Rachel asked with a knowing smile.
Quinn stared at her, expressionless.
Rachel laughed. She opened her arms and pulled Quinn down for a hug, careful not to mess up her hair or wrinkle her clothes too badly.
"Thank you for packing me a lunch and waking me up to wish me luck, bear." She said against Quinn's ear. "You're so good to me. And you have rainbow sprinkles in your hair."
Quinn pulled back and smiled at her. "It's because I love you, you know."
Rachel hummed. "I thought you might." She carefully picked the sprinkles out of Quinn's hair and dropped them on the side table.
Quinn watched her, smiling sweetly, like there was no place she'd rather be than perched on the edge of her bed with her sleepy wife plucking sprinkles out of her hair.
Rachel finished and rolled back over, pressing her face into the pillow again, ready to go back to sleep. "I love you too, Quinn." She murmured. "Now go hug a bear."
Quinn leaned forward to hug Rachel again, and Rachel laughed soundlessly into her pillow.
Rachel held onto that feeling as she met some of her co-stars, the people who'd play Horace and Ambrose and Barnaby and Cornelius. They seemed like they were in awe of her, rightly so, but then Rachel told them about her dogs' names and shared her cookies, and they all settled into an easy camaraderie.
They'd find out she was crazy soon enough.
At lunchtime, Rachel discovered that Quinn had also packed her a vegan chocolate pudding and baby carrots and a good luck note signed with an elephant. She displayed her lunch proudly and delighted in the envy of her castmates.
She pulled out her phone to text Quinn a thank you.
Rachel: I have the best wife.
The choreographer, whose name was Mike Chang, sat next to Rachel and told her about his plans for the production. He smiled and offered her some Cheetos when Rachel told him that the person she was texting was her wife.
Quinn: I agree.
Rachel laughed.
Rachel: She's nicer than you.
Rachel: Kind of a weirdo, but nice.
Quinn: I have a weird wife as well. She never stops singing ugghhh.
Rachel opened her pudding and smiled at her phone.
Rachel: YOU LIKE IT.
Quinn: Mmm. I'm about to work on a penguin's foot, baby.
Rachel pouted at having to say goodbye so soon.
Rachel: Love you. XO.
Quinn: xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox.
Rachel laughed at her phone.
"She must be pretty cool." Mike mused with a friendly smile. He pointed to Rachel's lunch. "If she made those, you know to keep her forever."
Rachel agreed.
Her director hoped to get through all of the dialogue in the first act in one day, so she and Mike and the rest of the cast quickly got back to work. She was exhausted, but excited, when she walked through the apartment door that evening, and she happily greeted the three dogs who met her at the door.
"Hi, babe!" Quinn called from the kitchen. She appeared a second later, rushing forward to kiss Rachel's smile. Rachel chuckled at the affection.
"I can't wait to hear about your day." Quinn enthused. She took Rachel's hand and led her to the kitchen, plopping her into a chair at the bar before getting back to whatever she was making. "But I have to talk to you about something first."
Quinn was smiling, but it was soft and sympathetic, and she kept grating the cheese and sniffing whatever was in the pan on the stove.
"What is it?" Rachel asked warily, knocking her feet against the breakfast bar and watching her wife. "Can it wait until later, or-"
"George is eighteen, Rachel." Quinn interrupted, twirling the spoon nervously in her fingers..
Rachel narrowed her eyes. "Our…cat?"
They definitely didn't know any other Georges.
Quinn nodded.
Rachel raised an eyebrow. "So?"
"He stayed in his bed all day." Quinn said carefully, finally setting the spoon down.
Rachel immediately saw where this was going. And she almost smiled because Quinn was trying to break it to her softly even though Rachel acted like the animals were the bane of her existence.
"His joints are just…the cartilage is gone. And even if it didn't hurt to move, his muscles are weak because he's so old." Quinn continued, squeezing the edge of the counter. "And you know how he's been having accidents more frequently? I think his kidneys are failing."
Rachel slid out of her chair and walked around the breakfast bar to stand right next to Quinn. She pried one of Quinn's hands off the counter and squeezed and waited until hazel eyes met her own.
"What are you saying, baby?" she asked softly.
Quinn took a deep breath. "He's-he's happy now, staying in his bed, but soon he won't be." She explained, voice only slightly shaky. "We should look into…"
Rachel could infer how that sentence was supposed to end.
But that was her big, gray, fluffy cat who'd slept on the clothes in her closet for six years. Who climbed up the curtains and fought with Benjamin on a daily basis. It was fatso Butter's best friend and the greenest eyes in the house.
"What about Butter?" Rachel asked quietly, aware that both cats were the same age.
How Butter turned out psychotic and George relatively sane, Rachel didn't know.
Quinn coughed and smiled slightly. "She's healthy for her age. She spilled milk on my laptop today. Perfectly fine."
Rachel's lips twitched.
"And what about everybody else?" she questioned.
Lay it all out now so that Rachel wouldn't be surprised later.
Quinn blinked her eyes exaggeratedly, probably picturing all of their animals' faces. "Barnaby's doing well with the arthritis drugs." She said with a half-smile. "He was chasing Jelly today. But Charizard's dyspnea is getting worse and he's anemic, so I don't think he's getting enough oxygen."
Rachel frowned. She'd have respiratory problems too if somebody put firecrackers in her mouth.
"I think we can work on his nose some more, surgically, to fix that." Quinn suggested softly. "Open his airways. He's old, but strong."
Rachel nodded immediately.
Quinn swallowed. "Everybody's fine, little bear." She assured after a minute, sniffling slightly.
"We'll give George some time." Rachel suggested quietly.
She hugged Quinn and rubbed her back through the thin cotton t-shirt, and then pulled back and picked up Jelly because she was winding her way around Rachel's legs. Quinn went back to her cheese and Rachel watched her carefully.
"I-I worked on a tiger's teeth today." Quinn proclaimed, spinning around abruptly, eyes brighter than before.
Rachel smiled at her. "After the penguin? How did you like that?"
Jelly climbed up onto Rachel's shoulder like it was her own personal tree.
"I shaved down two of his teeth because they were making his mouth bleed." Quinn explained, rocking on her feet and waving the cheese grater through the air. "He should-he should feel better now. And the penguin's al-alright as well. I love it, Rachel."
Rachel smiled and stepped closer and tapped Quinn's nose before she could get carried away. "I know you do, you weirdo."
Quinn grinned and reached around behind her, setting down the grater and grabbing slices of cucumber. She held one up to Rachel's mouth.
"So my day was good, Rachel bear. How was yours?"
Rachel took the cucumber between her teeth. She put Jelly down before she answered and went into the living room to get George, carefully picking up his fluffy body and hugging him close to her chest. Quinn watched her with a small smile.
Then Rachel settled back into the breakfast bar with her cat and her wife and told them about her first day back to Broadway.
~oooooooooooooo~
"You need someone dark." Santana stated loudly, leaning over the back of the couch and pointing at Quinn. "Like, dark dark. To counteract Sunny Delight's brightness. Then your child will be normal."
Rachel choked on her drink and Brittany thumped her on the back.
Quinn frowned.
"Yeah. That's definitely not how it works." Puck drawled. "They want the guy to look like Rachel, so they need to find the shortest, loudest, bounciest, crazy-eyed little dude they can."
"Hey!" Quinn interjected, ignoring Santana's snort. Puck looked at her expectantly, sprawled out on the rug with a beer and Barnaby. Quinn threw popcorn at his face. "Rachel has nice eyes."
Rachel snorted a laugh and shoved Quinn's shoulder, tipping her sideways into the arm of the couch. Quinn recovered immediately and wrapped her arms around Rachel's waist, squeezing her tightly. Rachel squealed against her neck.
"Their spawn is going to be insane." Kurt said conversationally, holding his glass up in Santana's direction. She nodded sagely, but her lips twitched at Rachel's loud laughter.
"Just so you guys know, I'm not changing diapers." Puck declared, propping his feet on the coffee table. He shuffled through the papers in his hands and then peeked around them at Rachel and Quinn. "But you should totally go for the model guy. Who cares what his personality is like? You'll be molding your kid like clay."
"That'll be some weird-ass clay." Santana smirked.
Rachel huffed, still secured in Quinn's arms like a koala, and flung a handful of popcorn in Santana's direction. "Stop insulting our future child!"
"Rachel, she's insulting you, not your child." Brittany clarified helpfully.
Rachel pouted at all the popcorn on the floor she'd have to clean up later. Quinn squeezed her again.
"Our baby will be perfect." She whispered in Rachel's ear, and Rachel nodded and leaned against her side. "Rosy cheeks and chubby hands and perfect big brown eyes." Quinn kissed Rachel's ear.
Rachel smiled. She knew her friends were happy for them. They'd all had face-splitting grins on their faces when Quinn and Rachel told them the news. In San Diego, Sam had dropped his phone and called for Penguin the Dalmatian, and the line devolved into a shouting, barking mess before it went dead.
"Noah, musical talent is born, not bred." Rachel informed once Quinn stopped whispering. "Our child has to have it in his or her bones, and then we can shape him or her like Play-Doh."
Quinn nodded next to her.
Rachel pictured herself getting little dolls to do her bidding. She could create her own minions, an army of them molded in her image.
"But if our baby doesn't want anything to do with music, that's okay too." Quinn added, nudging Rachel's shoulder.
Rachel turned and stared at her for a second, the sharp line of her jaw and curious lift of her eyebrow. "Sure." She finally conceded, watching Quinn's lips quirk. "Unlikely, but okay."
If Rachel's little baby wanted to be an athlete or a scientist or anything else in the world, that would be okay too. Rachel could definitely coach a soccer team. She was an expert on sorting through natural talent, so her kids would be all-stars. She could bring in grapes and juice boxes for half-time and learn how to wash grass stains out of tiny jerseys.
Maybe she could subtly brainwash the child as a baby to be interested in musicals by playing Funny Girl and Grease and The Sound of Music in its nursery.
But she didn't want to make the baby sick of musicals. She'd be treading a fine line.
Quinn was watching her like she was insane, so Rachel smiled brightly and patted her thigh. Quinn chuckled knowingly.
"Why don't you just carry the baby since you're trying so hard to get a donor who looks like you?" Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow at Rachel.
Rachel sat up in her seat. "My job is more physically demanding." She stated. "And I'd be allowed less maternity leave, so it only makes sense that Quinn would carry our first child."
"Really? The woman who eats walnut cookies even though she's allergic and trips on the stairs and leaps over furniture?" Santana joked. "That's who you're trusting to carry your baby?"
Kurt gasped. He sounded scandalized.
Quinn exhaled quietly and ducked her head, staring hard at her hands in her lap.
"Santana!" Rachel exclaimed, wishing she had something more substantial than popcorn to throw in her direction. "Why would you say that!"
Brittany punched Santana's shoulder.
"Dude, that's not…" Puck trailed off, shaking his head. "You're such an ass, Lopez."
Rachel wrapped an arm around Quinn's torso and squeezed tightly. She twisted around her wife's body to try to catch her eye, but Quinn wouldn't look up. She had a small smile fixed to her face, but she was digging her nails into the palm of her hand.
Santana put her hands in the air. "Whoa, okay, it was just a joke." she defended, keeping her distance from Brittany, who looked ready to punch her again. "Quinn, I was just joking. You know that, right?"
Quinn rocked sideways into Rachel, humming softly.
"Santana, apologize right now." Kurt ordered sternly, reaching over from the arm chair to pat one of Quinn's hands.
Rachel glared at Santana until she complied.
"Sorry, Sunny." She mumbled, eyes flashing with real concern. Brittany smiled. "You know I didn't mean it. It was just a joke."
"Good." Kurt said, lips twitching. "Now come and give her a hug."
Santana threw popcorn at his face. "Fuck off."
"Guys, shut up." Rachel said loudly, genuinely annoyed. She turned back to Quinn and brushed the blonde hair out of her face. Quinn's eyes dragged up to meet hers, refusing to look anywhere else in the room. They were earnest and dark.
"This-this baby will be the most important thing in my life, Rachel." Quinn murmured, only loud enough for Rachel to hear. "I'll keep it safe. Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart, right?"
Rachel was having chest pains.
Quinn puffed out her cheeks and looked back down at her hands. "Like Piglet. I'll love our baby more than anything in the world."
Rachel wrapped her in a hug. "I know sweetheart." she assured quietly. "You don't have to tell me." She kissed Quinn's neck and then tugged on her ears, glad to elicit a small chuckle.
When Rachel pulled back, Santana was standing in front of them with Brittany's hand on the small of her back holding her in place. She looked dejected, and she sighed heavily and bent down and pulled a reluctant Quinn into a hug.
After a second, Quinn returned it, pressing her lips together to contain her smile.
"You'll be a great mom, Q." Santana muttered, pulling away and then brushing off her shirt like she'd hugged a cat and was now covered in hair. "Britt says to not listen to me because I don't think before I speak."
Brittany hummed and nodded from behind her girlfriend.
Quinn thanked Santana and then scooted to the side and leaned back into Rachel. Rachel wrapped her arms around Quinn so that she could play with her hands, and she was wondering why Quinn's hair smelled like cotton candy when Blaine appeared in the living room.
It was surprising.
Kurt had sent him out for more snacks an hour ago and he hadn't been heard from since. Vanished off the grid.
"Hey! Kurt exclaimed, bouncing up to greet him. "We thought you'd been kidnapped!"
Blaine laughed and set his grocery bags on the coffee table. "I can see that." He drawled. "That's why you're all lounging around the living room like nothing's wrong."
"We thought we lost you, dude." Puck assured, already tearing into a bag of cheddar Goldfish.
Quinn eyed it longingly and Rachel leaned forward and snatched it out of Puck's hands. He went for Chex Mix instead.
"I was just thinking." Blaine said vaguely. He stood in front of Kurt and straightened his collar and reached into his cardigan. "I know it's a special time for Rachel and Quinn right now, but I was walking home, and it just hit me, and I-I mean, I just couldn't wait."
Rachel narrowed her eyes at them.
"And we're with our friends right now, so…" Blaine trailed off and got down on one knee, and Rachel gasped loudly in Quinn's ear.
Kurt didn't look too shocked. Maybe he was in shock. His blue eyes were wide and fixed on Blaine, and Rachel heard the proposal, but not the "yes" because she was just barely suppressing the urge to throw herself out of the window in her excitement.
Puck rolled himself off the ground, knocking Cloud in the face with his leg. Cloud bounced around because that obviously meant Puck was trying to play with him.
Rachel was the first to shriek, like always, followed by Brittany, and the two of them rushed forward to hug their friends. Rachel was sure she was crying, and Kurt spun her around and she stumbled into the side table, but she couldn't stop crying.
Quinn caught Santana's eye, both smiling, but still seated and not quite so vocal about their excitement.
Rachel stepped on Puck's leg on her way back to the couch and fell into Quinn's arms. Quinn laughed at the mess that was her wife and squeezed her and blew a raspberry on her neck. Puck was laughing, and Blaine and Kurt were laughing, and Brittany was squealing, and Rachel knew that her baby would be lucky to grow up surrounded by this.
"I want to do it soon." Quinn proclaimed, flushed and warm and holding Rachel securely, drying her happy tears. "I pick the guy who has Deenie the dog, and I think we should do it soon."
Rachel nodded and kissed Quinn, passionately, pushed back against the pillows, because everybody else was distracted.
She definitely agreed.