AN: I can't properly focus on this story out here, but hopefully this tides you all over! I'm glad you guys are sticking with this.
Still off the Key of Reason
Chapter 21: And We'll All Float on Okay
Technology had never been Rachel's forte. She used her laptop for only the most basic things, like Googling illnesses and sending e-mails and looking up vintage Barbra videos for comparison. The only appliance she was completely comfortable with using was the toaster, and she'd barely been able to change the alarm settings on her phone so that she didn't wake up to an air raid siren, terrified and under the impression that she was being bombed.
Now, she woke up every morning to her own version of "Ding Dong! The Witch is Dead." The best version, of course, and a wonderfully optimistic way to start her day.
Rachel was not much better with digital cameras, but she'd purchased one because she needed to start documenting the story of her unborn child. Photographs would be important for any autobiographical endeavors later in life.
And Quinn was just so shy around the camera, Rachel had to record it for posterity.
So she sat at the breakfast bar, pressing buttons on her shiny new Olympus, frowning and wondering why the picture on the screen had suddenly shrunk so small. She could hear Quinn chattering away in the living room, Skyping with Sam and Penguin before she left for the zoo.
Rachel squinted down at the instructions. Soon she'd have to admit to herself that she needed to start wearing reading glasses.
"I don't know what she's doing." Quinn's voice carried, and Rachel could hear her smile. "I think she's pretending she knows how to use our new camera right now."
Rachel narrowed her eyes at Quinn's back, and Quinn turned around and waved at her.
"I know what I'm doing." Rachel countered loudly, glaring at her wife.
And lying.
She heard Sam laugh through the computer.
Quinn turned back to the screen. "Remember when she messed up the cable on your TV and you had to call Cox to come and fix it?"
Rachel looked for something to throw.
"Oh yeah!" Sam laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world.
Rachel huffed and settled on the dish towel, which she hurled at the back of Quinn's head. Sam had seven thousand buttons on his remote control, and it was not her fault that she was not capable of understanding what they all did.
Quinn's light laughter at being hit with the towel cut off abruptly, and Rachel looked up to see her wife shoot off the couch and down the hallway towards the bedroom, with Barnaby bounding gleefully after her. Rachel almost thought "serves you right," but squashed that down because she never wanted Quinn to suffer even the smallest amount.
Even when Rachel was being mocked.
She waited a few seconds before getting up and walking into the living room.
"Is she okay?" Sam called out, struggling to keep Penguin from taking over the camera. He seemed to be sitting in some kind of prison cell, but Rachel figured it was an undecorated bathroom or closet. She didn't ask why Sam was Skyping in the bathroom.
Or why his bathroom looked like jail.
She leaned over the back of the couch and nodded so that Sam could see. "This happens fairly frequently." She informed, sadly, because Quinn was getting tired out.
Sam grimaced.
Rachel glanced towards the hallway. "Will you be here for the wedding?" She asked, calculating how much time she had and smiling slightly when Cornelius climbed up in front of her to block her view of the screen.
Sam grinned at the dog. "Yes, I will, Seal." He joked. "I'll see you in three months, dude."
Rachel clapped her hands together excitedly. "Quinn can't wait to see you."
Sam nodded bashfully.
"No, really," Rachel pushed, "she tells everyone we know about our friend who swims with Shamu. She's so proud of you."
"She just loves Shamu." Sam returned, blushing to his ears.
Rachel smiled. "That too."
"Well…Go-go help her." Sam instructed after a moment. He waved his hand off-screen like Rachel needed to hurry. Rachel nodded knowingly and patted Cornelius's head, and left him to carry the conversation.
"Oh, hey, did you fix it?" Sam's disembodied voice called out after her.
Rachel could hear the smile, and she rolled her eyes and didn't bother answering, because no, she hadn't fixed it and she'd be stuck with thumbnail images for the rest of her life.
Quinn sat on the floor in the bathroom with her head in her hands, and Rachel crouched down and settled a warm hand on her back. She didn't dare look at the toilet. Quinn leaned into her until Rachel had to sit on the floor to keep from toppling sideways.
"Better, baby?" she asked quietly.
Quinn hummed, and then sighed tiredly.
"Let me grab the camera." Rachel said softly, watching her. "We can document this for future generations."
Quinn's lips quirked as she shook her head.
Rachel gasped quietly, nose pressed against Quinn's ear. "What, baby? You don't think that's a good idea?"
"Rachel." Quinn laughed shortly.
Rachel reached a cool hand up and palmed one of Quinn's flushed cheeks. "We could put the pictures in your book. And my memoirs."
"You're ridiculous."
Rachel smiled. "You were making fun of me, bear."
Quinn puffed out her cheeks and tipped her head backwards until it knocked against the wall. Rachel squeezed her thigh.
"No, baby. I was elaborating on one of the reasons I love you." Quinn drawled.
Rachel snorted, which made Quinn laugh.
"You're like a tornado." Quinn proclaimed, smiling genuinely. "Flipping everything over as you pass right by."
An unstoppable force of technological ignorance.
"Sure, sometimes we have to call the cable company because of you, but you can sing to the moon and back." Quinn said sweetly, and then used Rachel's shoulder as leverage to stand up. Rachel groaned exaggeratedly under the weight.
"I never stood a chance." Quinn finished.
She started brushing her teeth, and caught Rachel's eye in the mirror, and Rachel smiled and stood behind her and kissed her shoulder before re-pinning Quinn's messy blonde hair.
And then Rachel returned to the living room to find that Sam had ended his Skype conversation with Cornelius. She sat back at the breakfast bar and vowed to fix the camera settings before she stood up again.
~ooooooooooo~
Rachel turned off the camera when her knees locked themselves into place. She climbed out of the chair with a headache and a numb foot, and her spine cracked alarmingly loudly, and she walked through the kitchen just to stop herself from hurling the camera against a wall.
And then she turned it back on two minutes later, and the preview images were normal-sized.
Rachel took a breath and nodded to herself, satisfied. She knew exactly what she was doing. Unfortunately, nobody was around for her to show, so she took a picture of Butter and appreciated her own handiwork.
A few nights later, she sat cross-legged on the bed opposite Quinn, clutching the camera and trying to direct her own mini photo-shoot. Quinn wasn't cooperating though, wearing only pajama shorts and a bra because she'd gotten too hot, and trying to get Rachel to kiss her to taste the new toothpaste she bought.
"Just sit still, babe." Rachel instructed, angling the camera. "Look cute."
"But it's orange-flavored. Come here." Quinn puckered her lips, and Rachel rolled her eyes, but couldn't resist giving her a kiss. The toothpaste did taste good.
"Now smile." She ordered.
Quinn scrunched up her nose. "Don't make it pornographic."
"Then put your shirt back on."
"It's too hot."
Rachel rolled her eyes and took a picture. Quinn turned away automatically, flustered and warm and annoyed, and Rachel sighed.
"You know the camera loves you, bear." Rachel stated, staring at her wife. "You're gorgeous."
Quinn's ears flushed red. "Well I don't like it." She mumbled.
Rachel's lips twitched. "Take off your pants, baby." She requested, just because she refused to let the subject drop.
Quinn looked bewildered.
Rachel nodded. "Take them off." She urged. "We'll do some nude pictures, and-"
Quinn snorted loudly. "Rachel, no."
"Then take some normal pictures with me." Rachel pleaded, suppressing her smile and pulling out her puppy dog pout.
Quinn sank slowly back into her pillows and glanced down at her chest and her bare belly. Rachel followed the movement. Quinn was showing now, a slight swell of pale skin, and Rachel leaned forward to press a kiss to her stomach.
"You're too warm." Quinn complained softly.
Rachel pulled back. "Would you like a cool cloth, baby?"
Quinn shook her head.
"A popsicle? Those ones with the gumball eyes?"
Quinn exhaled sharply and shook her head again in frustration. Rachel sort of felt like she was being led into a trap.
"Some water, bear? I could get the fan." Rachel suggested carefully, still holding the camera in one hand.
Quinn just held an arm out and beckoned Rachel closer, and Rachel complied and moved until she was hovering over her wife. Like a mouse dangling over a python. Quinn pulled her down into a kiss, sucking hungrily on her button lip, and Rachel squeaked in surprise.
But she rolled with it, because who was she to deny a pregnant woman?
Her hands went automatically to Quinn's sides, while Quinn's fingers dragged up her back.
"Water with ice would be nice." Quinn mumbled against Rachel's neck, and Rachel frowned because she really didn't know what was happening at the moment.
"Right now?" she checked, tracing the strap of Quinn's bra.
Quinn nodded, eyes bright, but then seized Rachel's wrist when Rachel tried to climb off the bed. "No, not now. Stay here, please."
Rachel nodded slowly. "Honey, are you okay?" she asked softly, brushing the hair off Quinn's sweaty forehead.
Quinn looked confused herself. Exasperated and hot. She pulled Rachel back into a kiss, and then whined when Rachel's body pressed against her boobs. Rachel looked down in alarm, thinking she'd kneed her somewhere unpleasant.
"Am I crushing you?" she whispered, frowning at the absurdity of that question.
"They're really…sensitive." Quinn explained quietly, eyes flicking down to her boobs. A blush crept all the way down her neck to her collarbone.
Rachel palmed one boob experimentally, pulling away immediately when Quinn flinched. She let herself drop down at Quinn's side and pressed her lips to her wife's bare shoulder.
"Sorry, baby." She whispered, and she rested her cool hand lightly on Quinn's stomach.
"This is awful." Quinn muttered.
Rachel almost laughed.
"Do you still want to take a picture?" Quinn asked, voice wavering slightly.
Rachel rubbed her nose against Quinn's jaw. "Do you want to?"
Quinn sighed.
Rachel wondered about panic attacks before realizing that Quinn was probably just hormonal, and she almost pointed that out to Quinn because her wife just seemed so confused, but that couldn't possibly go well.
"I don't think I want my picture taken right now." Quinn mumbled, crossing an arm over her stomach.
Rachel watched the movement, and then propped herself up on an elbow and looked down at Quinn.
"You know you're brilliant, right Quinn?" Rachel asked, eyebrow raised.
Quinn furrowed her brow.
"I don't mean talented or intelligent, even though you're those things as well," Rachel explained quietly. "I mean you're glowing. Shining. Beaming with beauty."
Quinn snorted softly and pressed half her face into the pillow. Rachel ducked to keep eye contact.
"No, I'm serious, bear. Your eyes are brighter than ever." Rachel tapped Quinn's nose as she spoke. "And your cheeks are always a lovely pink now, and your body-Quinn, you're carrying our baby, and everything that comes with that is so incredibly sexy. You have no idea."
Quinn scrunched up her nose. "Not everything." She corrected..
Rachel shrugged and splayed her cool palm across Quinn's abdomen. "You bowl me over." She said with a smile.
Quinn side-eyed her.
"You knock me down every day." Rachel continued, just trying to get her to laugh. "I mean, I see you, and it's like the world stops spinning. Or it starts going backwards."
Quinn smiled reluctantly. "Stop yourself, Rachel."
"It's like walking right over the edge of a cliff. It makes my knees shake. My legs get all wobbly."
Quinn rolled onto her side and gazed at Rachel, amused. Rachel tapped her lips.
"It's like being caught underwater, or out in space. You take my breath away, baby."
Quinn laughed a full belly-laugh, loudly and melodically, and Rachel grinned, triumphant. Quinn rolled over onto her and tickled her sides until Rachel was laughing so hard that no sound came out.
"I love you for that, little bear." Quinn murmured breathlessly, red in the face.
Rachel grabbed the camera and held it above them and took a picture before Quinn realized what was happening. Quinn was flushed and smiling her wide, open-mouthed smile, nose pressed into Rachel's cheek, hair mussed, while Rachel looked up at the camera, happiness shining in her brown eyes, lips pressed together to contain her smile.
Rachel could've stared at it all night, but she had the real thing in front of her.
"Nine weeks down, bear." She whispered.
Quinn nodded, trying to pull off her shorts because she was still too hot. Rachel helped her, and then kissed her stomach and then her lips, and finally let Quinn wrap her up for the night.
~oooooooooooo~
Rachel figured that a pre-natal exercise class would just involve lying on the floor with Quinn and doing some foolish-looking breathing exercises. Or rolling around on giant yoga balls. But, of course, Quinn chose a class that took place in a pool, and Rachel barely managed to convince her to leave the inflatable Shamu behind.
"We should've just done yoga classes, baby. Or Lamaze." Rachel remarked when they were changing into their bathing suits in the locker room.
Quinn threw a sock at her back. "That's boring, little bear."
Rachel tilted backwards into the lockers and watched Quinn tie her bikini top.
"And this is more intensive." Quinn continued. "You said you wanted to work out to look good in your bridesmaid dress."
It was true. But everybody said they wanted to work out until they were actually faced with the challenge of working out. Rachel briefly wondered what had happened to her high school elliptical routine.
She'd achieved her dreams and left that behind. Sure, she could barely run a mile now, but she was a Broadway star.
"I think I do enough dancing." Rachel said vaguely.
Quinn smiled at her. "And you always look good."
Rachel sidled up and leaned into Quinn, resting her hands on her stomach, and Quinn tugged on the ends of her dark hair.
"What time do you have to be out of here?" Rachel asked quietly, looking over Quinn's shoulder at the clock on the wall.
Quinn hummed. "Early afternoon? I'm planning a 5k, and the zoo tour for the autism program, and we have a new red panda arriving this evening."
Rachel smiled slightly. "That's exciting."
Quinn rocked back on her heels, and her hands dropped from Rachel's hair to tap against her own thighs. "His name's Bamboo. He's coming from Phillie, and we want-we want to breed him with Maya in the next few months."
Rachel bit her lip. "Just don't-you've got a lot of stuff going on, Quinn-just don't overexert yourself, okay?"
Quinn watched her, eyes glossed over a little bit, and Rachel knew she was probably thinking about pandas.
"I know you're tired." Rachel added, daring Quinn to argue with her.
Quinn twirled the rubber band around her wrist. "I'm-I'm okay. When I don't feel all over the place, like I've fallen into Wonderland or the Twilight Zone, I'm okay."
Rachel raised an eyebrow.
"Did-did you know red pandas were discovered before giant pandas?"
Rachel bit her cheek and watched Quinn's excited eyes. Quinn's fingers danced along her legs.
"And they have-they have twelve rings on their tail." She continued, rocking forward on her toes. "Purely aesthetic, but you can count them the next time I bring you to the zoo."
Oh yeah. Rachel would be sure to do that.
"You know there are-there are people who check the casting calls of Broadway producers, and then go to animal shelters to find pets who fit the roles?"
Wait.
Rachel blinked. Quinn seemed to have switched topics, swimming along with some kind of logic Rachel couldn't see. Rachel focused and waited for her to sort herself out.
"They-they train them, and there are lots-there are rescued-rescue-"
"Bear." Rachel interrupted softly, and tapped Quinn's lips, amused.
Quinn shook her head around. "There are-there are rescue dogs touring with Annie and the Wizard of Oz, and a cat in Alice in Wonderland."
Rachel was hit with the sudden realization that she could turn all of her pets into Broadway stars. Her eyes widened, and Quinn laughed like she knew exactly where Rachel's head had gone.
"I promise I'm not too tired." Quinn assured.
Cornelius wasn't trainable, so there was no way he could become a star, but Barnaby could dance! Maybe Rachel could take him to an audition. Benjamin was also wildly talented, but there probably wasn't such a huge demand for giant chocolate bunnies on stage.
"Rachel." Quinn said with a smile, and tapped Rachel's chin to get her to focus.
Rachel did, and followed Quinn out of the locker room and through the gym to the pool where their class was waiting. There were another three couples, and two pregnant women by themselves, and Quinn slid right into the deep end while Rachel walked slowly down the stairs.
It was an indoor pool, so the chlorine scent was strong and every sound echoed through the building.
It would actually be perfect if Rachel felt the need to break out into song. Which wasn't ever unlikely.
"For our first exercise, everybody grab a kickboard." The instructor called out. She looked about twelve years old, and Rachel wondered what business she had teaching a pre-natal class.
"You're going to hold it in front of you, and then walk forward, so it creates a drag, from one side of the pool to the other. It's a strengthening exercise."
Rachel took the pink kickboard Quinn handed her, and did as she was instructed. Quinn moved quickly, like she was racing the other participants, and Rachel was mildly alarmed that she'd wear herself out. After three laps, Quinn stopped in the middle of the pool and swam along next to Rachel.
"This isn't doing anything." She complained quietly, obviously more eager to play in the water than to finish the exercise.
Rachel kept walking with her kickboard. "I'm sure it's doing something." She reasoned.
Quinn raised an eyebrow. "Wasting our time?"
"Babe, just keep doing it." Rachel requested with a smile. "In twenty minutes you'll be exhausted, and you'll know it's done something."
"Let's keep it up, Quinn." The instructor said loudly. "I know you're tired. Just one more lap."
Quinn looked over at him with a blank expression. "I'm-I'm not tired, actually." She said quietly. "This is just incredibly boring."
Rachel snorted softly, and Quinn started walking again, ignoring the instructor.
"This was your idea." Rachel reminded her, and Quinn scrunched up her nose. They'd probably be kicked out of this class by the end of the pregnancy.
The next exercise involved repeatedly stepping up and down onto the lowest step in the shallow end of the pool. Quinn grew more annoyed with every inane request the instructors made, until she was doing her stepping with a scowl set firmly on her face.
Rachel squeezed her arm periodically, and her expression would soften for a minute or two.
"I hope they have less asinine activities planned for the next few weeks." Quinn muttered, slowing her pace.
Rachel was doubtful. She wouldn't be surprised if they spent three hours next week floating around on their backs like otters.
Quinn longingly eyed the other side of the pool, where some kids were playing with a water ball and a noodle, fighting over goggles to retrieve some coins from the bottom. Rachel smiled to herself and moved along the side of the pool to get her wife some water.
She was clinging to the edge and sipping from her bottle when one of the instructors, a guy named Paul, appeared at her side, grinning conspiratorially.
Rachel grimaced at the swimmer snot running from his nose.
"So, your girlfriend's a bit off-color, huh?"
Rachel swallowed and slowly re-capped her bottle, narrowing her eyes. "Wife. My wife." She corrected shortly.
Paul hummed. "Yeah, she doesn't seem to be enjoying herself."
Rachel glanced over to where Quinn was plodding up and down that one step, annoyed scowl still playing on her lips.
"She doesn't like doing pointless things." Rachel remarked. "And she says what she thinks."
Paul laughed. "I noticed."
Rachel stared at him.
"Just because it's not fun, doesn't mean it's not helping." He continued, stretching his arms casually over the edge of the pool. "We're not running children's swimming lessons."
Rachel's jaw clenched. "We know that."
"Well, she seems pretty miserable."
Rachel started swimming back to Quinn, just so she wouldn't punch this guy in the face. "She just needs something to focus on other than these mindless exercises." She called out behind her, and the guy shrugged and nodded and went to bother one of the husbands who seemed like he didn't know how to swim.
Quinn took the water bottle Rachel handed her and kissed Rachel's cheek in thanks.
"I think I should take a break." Quinn mused quietly, leaning against the side of the pool.
Rachel raised an eyebrow, and Quinn reached up and brushed back the dark hair plastered to her forehead. "Yeah? Is it getting harder?"
Quinn nodded, staring down at the water like she didn't want to admit it. Or searching for coins along the floor.
"You feel okay, though? Your head, your stomach-"
"Yes, Rachel." Quinn smiled wryly. "Your little baby and I are fine."
Rachel watched her suspiciously.
"And that woman said we get to use floats next week." Quinn stated, pointing at one of the other participants. "Apparently it gets more fun. And less idiotic."
Rachel chuckled. "Don't say that, bear."
Quinn sighed helplessly. "I'm so tired."
It wasn't news for Rachel. She'd just been waiting for confirmation.
"I know, baby." She pulled Quinn into a hug, and told her that they'd have a nap together when they got home.
Quinn finished her exercises, which involved clinging to the side of the pool and moving her legs up and down, and Paul told her to pretend like she was a gymnast with super-strength, and to focus on that, and Quinn cheered up considerably.
It was a much more effective class than Rachel's giant yoga ball routine.
~ooooooooooooo~
A couple days later, Rachel pushed tiredly through her front door after an evening show, already peeling off several layers of clothing with her cell phone wedged against her shoulder. She was strangling herself with her scarf while Kurt chattered away.
"So we're going with a blue and white scheme, because it'll probably have snowed by that time, and we can get married in a winter wonderland!"
"Kurt, we'll all freeze if you get married in the snow." Rachel said distractedly, climbing up the stairs with only one boot on.
Kurt huffed. Rachel could practically see his eyes roll. "We won't get married in the snow. We're not Eskimos."
"I'm sure you can find a way to have your reception outside without subjecting your guests to the elements." Rachel mused, kicking off her other boot and dropping her bag, coat, cardigan, scarf, gloves, and hat into a heap on the couch.
An igloo wedding was intriguing, though.
"Right." Kurt agreed. "I was thinking some kind of clear plastic or glass dome to go over the reception area, but Blaine tells me that's too extravagant.
Rachel scoffed. That seemed perfectly reasonable.
"We also need to pick a cake flavor." Kurt continued. "Do you think Quinn would like to come with me to a tasting next week?"
Rachel smiled. It wasn't even a question. "She would love that."
Kurt chuckled. "Okay. I have to go. Blaine's fixing a doorknob and he's accidentally locked himself in the basement with Brittany's duck."
Just another day with Rachel's friends. She nodded and said goodbye, and then hung up while greeting Barnaby and Cornelius, who both smelled like blueberry dog shampoo, and Rachel figured Quinn had given them baths. Or they'd eaten a bottle of shampoo, which was equally likely.
Rachel padded across the living room in her wooly socks and down the hallway to the bedroom. She peeked through the door and smiled at the sight of her wife lying with her head at the foot of the bed, feet on her Dalmatian pillow.
And Rachel realized she was singing, barely audibly, "Let it be Me," the Ray Lamontagne song she'd first sang to Rachel, and Rachel's heart fluttered because she just loved that woman so much. Quinn stopped singing abruptly, and beat her hands against her sternum like drums, and Rachel laughed.
Quinn just smiled and lolled her head backwards like she'd known Rachel was there all along. "Not you again." She drawled. "Why are you always around?"
Rachel scrunched up her nose. "Keep singing, baby." She requested, moving forward and bending over to kiss Quinn's lips upside down.
Quinn pressed her lips together shyly. "I don't-I just thought the baby might enjoy it."
Rachel lay down at Quinn's side with an exhausted groan, and Quinn took her cold hands and rubbed them to warm them up again.
"Of course the baby enjoys it." Rachel remarked.
Quinn kissed her fingers. "Your fluffy mittens are in my jacket, babe. You should wear those next time." She suggested. "And my voice isn't as good as your voice."
"Bear, your voice is beautiful." Rachel lolled her head to the side until her cold nose was pressed into Quinn's cheek. "Now sing to us, please."
"It's very small. I don't know if it can hear." Quinn mused.
Rachel chuckled. "I'm sure he or she knows."
"I was telling it about its family." Quinn admitted quietly, still warming up Rachel's fingers. "I said they'd have loads of ridiculous aunts and uncles to look out for them, and grandparents who raised the best girl in the world, and pets if maybe they don't like making friends with people so much, and they'd have the most lovely mama to love them unconditionally."
Rachel kissed Quinn's cheek and let her lips linger. "You're a sweetheart. I'm sure they appreciate that."
If Rachel was a baby, she'd like to be prepared for whatever was going to greet her in the real world.
"Now sing to us, bear." She requested again, and Quinn complied. She got halfway through the song before she fell asleep.
And when all your faith is gone
Feels like you can't go on
Let it be me