AN: I'm heading to California for a bit, but I'll try to update as soon as possible!
Still off the Key of Reason
Chapter 20: Nonsense Now and Then
With a baby on the way, Rachel took it upon herself to learn how to cook. She'd done this many times before in her life, and then given it up each time because she always got so bored being stuck in the kitchen with vegetables she couldn't name and sauces that looked like water when they were supposed to look like gravy.
It was like when she'd go off on a painting kick, and she'd buy several canvases and little tubes of oil and watercolor paints, and set out all her brushes in the dining room, only to abandon that project halfway through when something shiny caught her interest. Like dancing with her dog or a new show on television.
Or learning how to cook.
Rachel could rarely sit still. She had to break free.
But for Quinn, who'd have chocolate pancakes for breakfast and macaroni and cookies for dinner every day if she could, Rachel would make an exception. Their baby would not appreciate Quinn's diet.
So Rachel stood at the counter, peeling mushrooms and preparing peas, one of the most nutritious leguminous vegetables, apparently, and one that Quinn actually liked, while her friends sat at the breakfast bar with piles of wedding magazines and Quinn slept in the bedroom.
"Can I go wake her up?" Brittany pleaded. "I need to give her a hug. She's pregnant!"
Rachel smiled. "That's exactly why we need to let her sleep."
She knew Quinn would be up and out of that bedroom as soon as she could smell the food. She'd probably be disappointed once she saw what the food was, but she'd be awake.
"I like where you guys got married." Blaine remarked, gesturing at Rachel, nose pressed into a magazine. "It was pretty, but Kurt's scared of butterflies, so-"
"I'm not scared of butterflies!" Kurt interjected, whirling around from the stove and flinging rice across the kitchen.
"You know, if an animal eats that, it will inflate inside their stomach and kill them, because-"
"Britt, stop." Santana requested.
Kurt crouched down to sweep up the rice. "I do not like insects in general. I don't need them swarming me on my wedding day, thank you very much."
Rachel gazed dubiously down at a saucepan, wondering how soggy her mixture of vegetables was supposed to look and if Quinn would notice if she added a cup of diced onions. She probably would, but she'd eat it anyway because Rachel had spent time on it.
Rachel laughed to herself picturing Quinn's disgusted onion face.
"You should give them to Benjamin." Brittany suggested, gesturing to the onions. "He's the only one who doesn't get something cool for dinner."
"He's a rabbit."
"You're alienating him." Brittany stated sagely.
Rachel stared at her.
"I hardly think we'd be swarmed by locusts if we had an outdoor wedding." Blaine drawled, carrying on a conversation by himself.
Santana held up a hand. "You need to move that shit inside. I'm not standing out in the sun for another three hours like I did for these assholes."
Rachel rolled her eyes. "You were sitting in the shade for about thirty minutes, Santana."
Her vegetables really shouldn't look so soggy. Rachel hoped that Kurt was doing alright with the rice so that the risotto would at least be edible. Kurt was staring down at his saucepan with the same expression Rachel wore when she looked at hers.
They just were not cooks.
"Is it supposed to turn brown?" he asked, stirring absently.
"We can get married inside if that will make you more comfortable." Blaine carried on. "But I'd love an outdoor reception in the park, with canvas tents because Santana's allergic to the sun."
Rachel watched Cornelius lick up several grains of rice, hoping that what Brittany said about it expanding in his stomach was an exaggeration. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye, and turned to find Quinn shuffling towards the kitchen from the hallway.
"There she is!" Brittany proclaimed, launching out of her seat and rushing to give Quinn a hug.
Quinn looked confused and sleepy in her sweats, and she staggered into the wall a bit under Brittany's weight.
"Careful." Santana chided. "She's a vessel."
Rachel pulled a face at that description, and Santana shrugged.
Brittany bent over to kiss Quinn's flat stomach, and then led Quinn over to the kitchen. Quinn went where she was pushed, not fully awake enough to guide herself. She blinked against the light, and Rachel knew the exact moment she caught a whiff of the onions because of her scrunched up nose.
Rachel chuckled softly and walked up to her and rested her hands on Quinn's hips. "Don't worry, I'm not adding them, baby."
Quinn blinked.
"Are you awake?" Rachel asked with a smile, pushing blonde hair out of her wife's face and then tapping her lips to get some kind of reaction. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were glassy with sleep.
Quinn pulled Rachel into a hug and Kurt awwed.
"God, are you conscious?" Santana stared at Quinn. "How long were you asleep, preggo? A year?"
Blaine grinned. "She was hibernating."
Quinn pulled back, smiling wryly and pawing at her eyes to wake herself up. "How long was I sleeping?" she quietly asked Rachel.
Rachel watched her fondly. "A few hours. But it's okay, you need rest."
"Did I-I was sleeping with Cloud?" Quinn checked, staring down at the white fur on her shirt in confusion. She tried to pluck it off, but was too sleep-disoriented, so Kurt stepped up to help her.
"Yeah, bear." Rachel replied. She focused back on her risotto, ready to drain the rice and mix everything together. Or destroy everything that she'd spent hours preparing.
"Quinn, we need help." Blaine declared, shoving his chair right up next to Quinn's.
Quinn took a sip of water and tied her hair back as best she could, and then focused her attention on him. Rachel added rice and vegetable stock to her sautéed mixture, pleasantly surprised when nothing burst into flames.
"Kurt would like to get married indoors, away from the insects," Blaine explained, "but I'd really prefer an outdoor wedding like yours."
Quinn looked up and caught Rachel's eye. "You can't beat my wedding, Blaine." She stated softly.
Blaine laughed like she was joking.
"Maybe an arboretum." Quinn suggested, looking back at him. "It would be like having the outside inside. Enclosed, but only by glass, so it would be bright and floral."
Santana snorted. "Kurt, they want you to get married in a greenhouse."
Rachel's risotto started smoking, and she hurried to turn down the heat.
"We are not getting married in a greenhouse." Kurt declared, rolling his eyes as he set the table.
"An arboretum is a tree garden." Quinn protested quietly. "It's for woody plants, and it doesn't even have to be indoors. It's not a greenhouse."
"You guys should get married in a tree house." Brittany suggested.
Rachel's rice had turned opaque, so she took her concoction off the stove to get it ready to serve. It looked creamy, if not too thick, like yogurt, and she bobbed her head side to side, pleased with the final product.
Now she'd just have to do this every day for another eight months.
Everybody moved to the dining table, and Rachel pulled out the wine and water and Sunny Delight, and Quinn stuck a pie in the oven for dessert, and then intercepted Rachel on her way back to the table.
"I told you you're as messy as I am." She said with a smile, wiping at some kind of sauce on Rachel's shirt.
Rachel frowned down at herself.
"Dinner looks delicious." Quinn continued. "Thank you for making it, baby."
Rachel kept her eyes on the stain. She didn't even know what that was. It was black, like oil, and it wasn't coming off as Quinn wiped at it. Maybe it was something Rachel had accidentally created.
She was just that talented.
"Are you still tired?" she asked Quinn, hoping the stain wasn't toxic and batting her wife's hands away.
Quinn shook her head, and all of her hair fell into her eyes again. Rachel pushed it back and tugged out the useless hair tie. She leaned up to kiss Quinn's mouth, and Quinn hummed into it, and then Rachel bent over and quickly kissed Quinn's belly, and Quinn melted and pulled her into another hug.
"If I get married in the Amazon, one of you will get swallowed by an anaconda." Kurt stated matter-of-factly right as Rachel and Quinn joined the table.
And he was absolutely right.
Rachel served her risotto and listened to her friends argue and laugh, and Quinn poked her thigh occasionally and smiled at her and offered her some Sunny Delight, and Rachel was so glad that this is where her baby would grow up.
~ooooooooooooo~
Three days later, on a lazy Sunday morning, Quinn and Rachel sat on the couch in their pajamas with blueberry waffles and a tofu scramble, respectively, watching On the Town on TMC. Rachel hummed along with Frank Sinatra, and she'd inhaled half her scramble before she realized that Quinn was hardly eating.
Quinn was actually gazing forlornly down at her waffles and running a hand slowly along Cloud's back.
"Are you okay, bear?" Rachel asked, scooting closer.
Quinn glanced at her, lips pulled into a pout. "I don't feel very well."
"Are you nauseous? Do you need the bucket?"
Rachel set her plate on the coffee table and sat up straight, ready to run for whatever her wife needed. Quinn looked longingly down at her blueberry waffles and prodded them with a fork, shaking her head.
Rachel was skeptical. "Are you-"
Quinn was off the couch and halfway across the living room before Rachel could finish her sentence. Rachel glanced at Cloud, who was wagging his tail happily like nothing unusual had happened, and then she put the waffles on the counter so that Barnaby couldn't finish them off and hurried after her wife.
Quinn was hunched over the toilet, rubbing her elbow and retching, and Rachel tripped over the bathroom rug to reach her, quickly gathering her hair and patting it all down before tying it back. And then she rubbed Quinn's back and stared hard at the fish on the shower curtain to keep herself from vomiting.
She'd caught a glimpse of blueberries in the toilet, and more of that would just send her over the edge.
"It's okay, baby, just let it all out." Rachel soothed.
The stingray was smiling, she noted.
Quinn whined and rubbed at her elbow, and Rachel caught the movement right as Quinn retched again.
"Did you hurt yourself?" Rachel murmured, dragging her eyes from the grinning marine animals to examine Quinn's arm.
Quinn coughed and nodded. "I-I hit it on the bathtub." She answered huskily. "It's fine."
She shifted to stand up, and Rachel steadied her and made her lean against the counter while she wet a cloth to dab on Quinn's flushed cheeks and forehead.
"Feel better?" she asked softly.
Quinn nodded and smiled slightly. "I can finish my waffles now."
Rachel scrunched up her nose.
"It's passed." Quinn assured, voice growing stronger. "It just needed to…come out. Or up."
Rachel shook her head before Quinn could search for different ways to phrase that. Quinn brushed her teeth while Rachel poked at her slightly bruised elbow, and they returned to the couch with Cloud and reheated waffles.
Quinn only managed a few bites before she stopped eating again.
"Bear, honey, maybe you should leave the waffles for another time." Rachel suggested, trying not to smile because Quinn looked stricken, and Quinn shoved the plate away and leaned backwards into the cushions.
Rachel leaned over and kissed her warm, frowning forehead, and then got up for a blanket, peanut butter crackers, and paper. She turned the volume up on Gene Autry and retrieved Pooh from the bedroom, and then settled onto the couch next to Quinn, who cuddled up to her side and breathed deeply.
"I think your smell makes it better." Quinn mumbled.
Rachel chuckled lightly at that, and uncapped a marker to work on her paper.
"Like…clean linen."
"That's the laundry, bear." Rachel informed with a laugh.
Quinn tickled Rachel's ribs. "It settles my stomach. Make sure you wear clean clothes all the time."
"Because that's such a problem for me." Rachel hummed sarcastically.
"You're a slob, little bear."
Rachel would've tickled her or poked her or ruffled her hair or something, but Quinn's voice was thick and tired, and Rachel really did not want to be vomited on, so she just continued drawing her picture until Quinn flicked at the paper with a raised eyebrow.
Rachel smiled and held it out for her to see. "I drew us as hippos." She explained, because it was probably hard to tell.
Quinn smiled widely and laughed, and Rachel patted herself on the back for achieving her goal. Quinn reached out for the green marker, and then awkwardly pressed it to the rudimentary drawing while Rachel held the paper.
"I'm giving your hippo a microphone, and mine a stethoscope." She informed, biting her lip, eyes sparkling.
Rachel nodded in agreement.
Quinn finished, and then held out the marker for Rachel, and Rachel took it while Quinn settled back into her side, one arm thrown over her waist.
"Now draw Barnaby, please." Quinn requested, smiling softly.
Rachel tilted and kissed her hair and complied, and Quinn drew Barnaby a polka-dot bow tie, and Rachel figured that if every bout of morning sickness was like this, it wouldn't be so bad.
~ooooooooooooo~
Rachel warily eyed the poster on the wall of the examination room, wondering which end was up and if it was even human, before coming to the conclusion that the doctor was trying to scare people. It was just so graphic. Rachel did not see why it was necessary to blow up a woman's private parts so that they were four times the size of her head.
But she couldn't stop staring at the baby in the poster.
"So we put a cast on his leg, and isolated him from the other monkeys because they'd just help to tear it off, and-"
Quinn cut herself off, gazing at Rachel's back, probably having realized that her wife wasn't hearing anything she was saying. She narrowed her eyes.
Rachel tilted her head to see if that would give the baby in the picture some kind of shape. A top and a bottom. She jumped and whirled around when she heard Quinn's hand hit the arm of the chair she was sitting in.
"Hey. Pay attention to me, Rachel." Quinn requested loudly, holding an arm out like she was beckoning Rachel closer.
Rachel rushed forward, glad for the distraction from the poster. She felt dizzy, like she'd been staring at an optical illusion for the past ten minutes instead of a giant cross-section of a woman's private area.
"Sorry, bear." She apologized quickly, taking Quinn's hand. "What were you saying?"
Quinn watched her suspiciously for a second, and Rachel raised an eyebrow to let her know that she was totally focused.
Quinn's lips twitched. "I wanted to know how rehearsals were this morning."
Rachel hummed and smiled to herself. She had at least been present enough to know that Quinn hadn't been talking about rehearsals. She sat lightly on the arm of Quinn's chair, and Quinn tapped her fingers along Rachel's thigh.
"I think you were talking about monkeys, not about my rehearsals." Rachel drawled, eyebrow raised.
Quinn shrugged, and Rachel rested a hand on top of her fluffy blonde hair. "You seemed bored with that."
"I was distracted by that poster, which has only served to confuse me." Rachel explained.
Quinn chuckled, knocking her head back against the wall to look at Rachel. "You need a simpler diagram, baby. I could draw you one if you'd like?"
"Shut up." Rachel mumbled, and then pressed her lips together to suppress her smile. She kept her hand on Quinn's head, running through her soft hair.
"Roger, the snow monkey, has a cast on now, and we isolated him from the rest of the troop so that they wouldn't help him remove it, and because getting in the hot tub right now would be detrimental to his health." Quinn explained. She tapped her fingers along the seam of Rachel's jeans.
"I'm sure he'd love to get in the hot tub, though, because he's injured. Did you-did you know snow monkeys are the northernmost primates next to humans?"
Rachel smiled as Quinn's leg started bouncing. "I thought you didn't like monkeys?"
Quinn hummed vaguely. "Not particularly."
Rachel pictured herself sharing a hot tub with a gang of monkeys. She'd probably have to pretend to be one of them to keep from getting attacked, not that she was knowledgeable at all about monkey troop etiquette. Were they violent towards strangers? She'd definitely seen a baboon attack on Animal Planet once.
And she was an actor, a star, so she could pull off "monkey" if it was absolutely necessary.
Quinn pressed her head against Rachel's side and nuzzled into her t-shirt. "You're still not listening." She mumbled, though Rachel could hear the smile in her voice.
Rachel ruffled her hair. "I was thinking about monkeys."
And becoming one.
"Tell me about your day." Quinn instructed, muffled against Rachel's side.
Rachel opened her mouth to reply when the doctor finally came into the room. She greeted Rachel and Quinn with a smile, and Quinn stood up to get in the chair, dragging Rachel along behind her.
"How are you feeling this afternoon, Quinn?" The doctor asked brightly.
Quinn's eyes were fixed on her stethoscope. "Very well, thank you." She murmured.
Rachel squeezed her hand and stood next to Quinn's head, trying to stay out of the way of the ultrasound machine. The doctor pulled up Quinn's shirt, and Quinn's toes wiggled nervously.
"What can we expect to see?" Rachel asked, looking for something for Quinn to focus on other than the cold gel and foreign hands. She watched her wife squirm in the chair and tapped her cheek lightly.
"You're okay." Rachel mouthed, and Quinn stilled.
The doctor glanced at them while she moved the probe around. "Well, at eight weeks, the baby would be about the size of a kidney bean." She smiled, probably because Rachel and Quinn were so transfixed. "We won't know the sex, but it has fingers and toes."
Rachel glanced reflexively down at her own fingers twined with Quinn's.
"So it has legs?" Quinn questioned, and Rachel snorted because it sounded so odd.
Quinn flushed right up to her ears, but the doctor nodded easily.
"But it-am I-am I supposed to feel it moving?" Quinn asked quietly, staring at the gel on her still-flat stomach. "If it…has legs."
Rachel turned into mush inside, and regretted snorting because Quinn was bright red, and she bent over to kiss her wife's forehead in apology, and then waited to hear the answer because it was actually a good question.
"I mean, I'm a doctor, an animal doctor, and I don't-I don't mean to sound like an idiot-"
"You probably won't feel any movement from the baby until about sixteen weeks." The doctor cut Quinn off, smiling reassuringly. "The legs are far from being developed enough and large enough for you to feel anything."
Quinn nodded, and then turned to look at the screen with Rachel when the doctor pointed. "This is your baby."
Rachel narrowed her eyes at the tiny dark splotch. Quinn tilted her head like Rachel had been doing with the nearly obscene poster earlier.
The doctor laughed at their expressions. "It's not much right now, but everything's normal, and we should be able to determine the sex at about eighteen weeks."
"I don't…" Rachel felt tears burning her eyes, mostly from staring unblinkingly at the screen for several minutes. "I don't see it."
Quinn looked up at her, and then lifted her hand and kissed it. "Don't cry, baby."
"I'm not." Rachel stated honestly, blinking to relieve the burn. "Is it-you're sure it has arms already?"
Quinn laughed this time, and Rachel just shook it off because this was their baby and it was their right to turn into worried fools in the doctor's office.
"Very, very small." The doctor replied, freezing the screen and wiping the gel off Quinn's stomach. "Only developmentally large enough to say that they are present."
Rachel smiled at the dark little blob. "I believe you." She murmured.
"It's our baby." Quinn whispered, pulling Rachel down so that she could say it in her ear.
Rachel nodded and pressed her nose against Quinn's hair, and the moment finally caught up with her and she was barely able to keep herself from crying.
They had their first picture of their little baby. She'd definitely have to print off about twenty copies to hand out to all their friends, and then put one in a scrapbook and one on the fridge, and maybe frame one for the side of the bed.
"Rachel." Quinn murmured, and Rachel pulled away slightly to catch her eye. She wondered if Quinn was about to be sick and if she could lunge for the trash can before it happened.
Quinn shook her head and wrapped her arms around Rachel's neck, awkwardly because she was still lying down, but Rachel hugged her tightly and managed not to pull them both onto the floor.
"I just have a few questions for you two." The doctor interrupted, smiling as they pulled apart. Rachel helped Quinn sit up and then settled next to her on the chair.
"So, Quinn, have you been experiencing any nausea? Any moodiness? Cravings, spotting, or sensitive breasts?"
Quinn glanced at Rachel. "I-no to all of that except nausea."
Rachel scrunched up her nose. "Yes. Lots of morning sickness. You can put an extra big check by nausea."
Make it bold, make the font larger, give it ten checks and its own sheet of paper because nausea was definitely present.
The doctor smiled sympathetically. "Well, hopefully that will fade after your first trimester."
Quinn sighed slightly and puffed out her cheeks.
"We'll give you some prenatal supplements and schedule your next appointment, and you can call us with any concerns, but everything's looking good right now. The risk of miscarriage drops every day."
Rachel smiled and leaned into Quinn's side, and Quinn wrapped an arm around her waist. When the doctor returned with the bag of supplements, Rachel pulled each one out and asked what they were for and if they were necessary and if there was absolutely anything else she and Quinn could do for the health of their baby.
And then she asked which side was up in the poster on the wall, and Quinn rolled her eyes, but the doctor answered her questions easily and even offered to draw a simpler diagram.
"That won't be necessary, thank you." Rachel stated over Quinn's soft laughter.
They left the building with a picture of their baby, and their baby was perfect.
~ooooooooooo~
Opening night of Hello, Dolly! was halfway through October, and Rachel flitted around her dressing room, drinking tea and making funny noises, just to be sure that she could still make them and to know that her vocal cords were not failing her.
She checked her phone about six times in a minute, and then chewed on two mints, realized she liked the taste, and dropped more mints into her tea. She was slowly losing her mind because Quinn hadn't shown up and she was due on stage in twenty-four minutes.
Rachel was looking for something else to drop in her drink, maybe Starburst or Skittles or butter, when her dressing room door swung open.
Quinn hurried inside in a dark coat and windswept hair, cheeks flushed from the chilly weather.
"Hey, babe!" she greeted breathlessly, and Rachel breathed a sigh of relief and watched Quinn set her brown bag on the dresser.
"Quinn." Rachel stated, bouncing on her heels nervously. "I was worried, bear."
Quinn shuffled over to give her a kiss, and Rachel squirmed at the cold fingers on her neck. She silently handed Quinn her hot tea to hold before she could add any more foreign objects to it. Quinn held the cup with one hand and let Rachel rub the other between her hands to warm it up.
"Sorry, baby." Quinn murmured, gesturing at the bag on the dresser. "I got you flowers after work. And jelly beans and chocolates. And a card. I think I may have gone overboard."
Quinn pulled a face and Rachel laughed.
"I thought you'd fallen in the tiger pen." Rachel admitted. She'd gone a little overboard with potential scenarios as well.
Quinn smiled softly at her. "I'm being careful."
Rachel nodded and glanced at the time, trying to smile but heaving an anxious sigh instead. Quinn held the tea out for her and she took three large gulps, and then choked on a mint that lodged itself in her throat. It came up easily when Quinn thumped her back, and Rachel spit it back into the tea and set that whole mess aside.
She hadn't even been this nervous for Funny Girl.
Quinn watched her carefully and then backed her up to sit on the couch and crouched down in front of her, hands on Rachel's knees.
"You seem nervous." Quinn observed, lips quirked.
Rachel huffed exasperatedly and rolled her eyes, but Quinn squeezed her knees and scooted closer.
"This is where you belong, Rachel Berry. You know that right?" Quinn raised an eyebrow like it was a legitimate question.
Rachel stared at her.
"They love you." Quinn assured earnestly. "Everybody out there does. All this, it's all for you, baby. They are welcoming you back out there with open arms, and I'll be here with hugs and kisses when you walk off."
Rachel still didn't say anything, but she nodded along absently.
Quinn puffed out her cheeks and tapped her fingers along Rachel's knees. "We are the music makers, and we are the dreamers of dreams."
Rachel focused on Quinn's honest hazel eyes. "What?"
"I used to pretend I was Charlie and I had a chocolate factory." Quinn said simply. "Roald Dahl? I'd have an imaginary Willy Wonka and my bath would be the river of chocolate, and my stuffed animals would be Oompa Loompas, and I told myself I'd own a chocolate factory someday."
Rachel had to smile, gaze fixed on Quinn's. "Why are you telling me this, bear?"
Quinn scrunched up her nose. "I don't know. It's nonsense, right?"
It most definitely was, and Rachel was lost, but entranced.
"I found out that chocolate factories don't actually have rivers of chocolate and rooms made of candy, and it was disappointing." Quinn stated sagely, leaning against Rachel's shins. "But I think-I don't-"
Quinn shook her head out, and Rachel bounced her knees with Quinn's hands on them while she waited for her wife to get her thoughts straight.
"You-you live in imagination." Quinn said slowly, frowning like she was getting it all wrong. "I know you say I do, but you act out stories every day, and some of it's nonsense, but you never do anything by halves, right?"
Rachel nodded, having finally jumped back on Quinn's train of thought.
Quinn grinned up at her. "So…go be outrageous, lovely bear. Think of our chocolate factory and our baby, and make sure everything you do is so completely crazy that it's unbelievable."
Rachel sighed softly, trying not to smile too wide. "You're a weird one." She murmured.
Quinn's smile grew. "I'm right and you're wrong, I'm big and you're small, and there's nothing you can do about it."
Rachel tilted forward to kiss her wife before she could come up with anything else. Anything else that made absolutely no sense, but made Rachel's day infinitely better. She didn't understand it, but she thought of Quinn and their baby and a chocolate factory, and the love waiting for her out on that stage, and she was ready.
Quinn turned on some music, and then danced around the dressing room singing "Love is a Battlefield," just to keep Rachel smiling. She stopped when she hit herself in the mouth with the TV remote she was using as a microphone, and Rachel fed her Starbursts and then sent her out to the audience.
Front row, center, of course.
And Rachel hugged her Barnaby and Cornelius backstage, and then strode out for "Call on Dolly," and her voice was smooth and jaunty and gorgeous because of the smiles in the audience. She caught Quinn's eye on a turn, and it was exactly where she belonged.