Still off the Key of Reason
Chapter 22: Everybody Talks
Quinn was twelve weeks along when Thanksgiving rolled around. She sat next to Rachel in the window seat of an airplane to Ohio, clad in her turkey sweatshirt and wooly socks, while Rachel fretted about their pillows and blankets and food provisions for the two-hour flight.
Quinn nodded easily with each request Rachel made, like "Don't eat the peanuts; they're too salty," and "Recline your chair back so the baby has more space to grow."
The tiny plane they were on didn't have a first class section, and Rachel briefly wondered what kind of illegitimate airline they had chosen and if she really should've trusted that travel site, and Quinn ended up asleep on her shoulder, hot and cold and uncomfortable.
Rachel looked through Sky Mall and tried to convince herself that their living room really didn't need a Sheng Kwong metal gong.
She was writing down the product number when Quinn lifted her head and yawned tiredly.
"Excuse me, baby." Quinn murmured, rubbing at her eyes and moving to climb over Rachel.
Rachel held up a hand to stop her for a second. "Maybe you should have the aisle seat."
Quinn frowned suspiciously, hair so ruffled that Rachel couldn't really take her seriously. "Why?"
"You're pregnant." Rachel responded. "You'll be up multiple times. There's a baby pressing down on your bladder."
Quinn eyed Rachel like she couldn't tell if she was being serious or not. "That baby is two inches long." She said slowly.
"And you'll need to stretch your legs at least twice before we land, so you should have the aisle seat."
"Rachel, I'm not taking the aisle seat." Quinn stated, trying to shove her way past Rachel's knees.
Rachel extended her legs as far as they could go. "Then…just tell me if something hurts, okay? Or if you're more uncomfortable than usual."
Quinn nodded quickly and pushed impatiently against Rachel's legs.
Rachel smiled. "What's the password?"
Quinn rolled her eyes. She spotted a stewardess watching them and flushed to her ears.
"Rachel…"
Rachel pulled her legs back and loosely grabbed Quinn's hand. "It's a kiss." She informed, lifting her chin expectantly.
Quinn bit her cheek, shaking her head like she didn't know how she'd ended up with this person, and she leaned forward and pecked Rachel's lips before shoving past her knees. Rachel squeezed her thigh as she passed, pleased with herself, but disappointed that she hadn't convinced Quinn to take part in any mid-flight exercises.
Quinn was asleep again when the plane began its descent into Columbus, warm breath brushing against Rachel's neck. Rachel quietly tried to straighten Quinn's seat, but Quinn was jolted forward slightly, and then she tipped into the window and grumbled unhappily.
"What are you doing?" She asked hoarsely.
"Un-reclining you." Rachel said absently, fiddling with the clasp of her own tray.
She caught a glimpse of Sky Mall when she finally fastened it into place, and she gripped her armrests to prevent her hands from wandering back to the magazine.
Quinn turned around in her seat, disheveled, but smiling. "Look at all the farmland, baby."
Rachel pressed into Quinn's side and stared out the window at the patchwork of farms below. A sea of brown and yellow divided by small, winding roads.
"Will you be okay when we land?" Rachel asked lightly, watching as buildings replaced the farmland.
Quinn hummed.
"That's a yes?"
"I don't-I never know." Quinn admitted, turning back to Rachel.
"Would you like some pictures?" Rachel asked, tapping Quinn's temple and then smoothing down her ruffled blonde hair.
Quinn raised an eyebrow.
"Picture a Sheng Kwong metal gong," Rachel started.
Because it would be in their living room later.
"And our little, two-inch-long baby, if you can picture that." Rachel only saw hairless mice in her mind when she tried it. "And think of Jolly, the new sea lion at the zoo."
Quinn smiled, and the plane landed, and she informed Rachel of Jolly's life story as they disembarked and made their way to baggage claim. The airport was crowded for Thanksgiving, and Quinn grew quiet as they waited by the carousel, but she still laughed while watching Rachel herniate herself retrieving their bags.
Rachel threw them off the carousel and onto the ground with an exaggerated groan and a massive thump.
"You should've let me do it." Quinn stated with a smile, shuffling off to the side to let other people pass. She met a few eyes, but her gaze remained mostly on their boots.
Rachel breathed for a minute, just to make sure she hadn't hurt herself.
"We're-we're introducing Jolly to her enclosure next week." Quinn informed.
"Uh-oh! Who's Jolly?" Hiram's booming voice came from behind them, and Rachel straightened up and spun around just in time to make sure it was her father who picked her up and spun her around.
Leroy wrapped an arm around Quinn, and then kissed her cheek and looked down at her belly. Only Rachel would notice the slight swelling, but her dads would treat Quinn like she was nine months along and ready to burst.
"There's my little grandbaby!" Hiram proclaimed, dropping Rachel and moving to Quinn.
Quinn pushed her hands deep in her pockets and let them fuss over her.
"Who is Jolly, Quinn?" Leroy asked when he'd had his fill, beaming and seizing the bags before Rachel could do herself an injury.
"She's a sea lion we recently acquired." Quinn informed proudly, barely audible in the commotion.
Rachel watched her wife's fingers fidget in her pockets, and how her gaze drifted from Leroy to survey the growing crowd. Rachel took a step forward, but Hiram was obviously thinking the same thing because he swept his arm around Quinn's shoulders and kissed her head and started moving them towards the elevators.
Rachel watched them fondly, smiling when Quinn turned and caught her eye.
Leroy took the suitcases and bumped his shoulder into Rachel's.
"This is going to be great, honey." He enthused. "We have so many new presents for the baby!"
~ooooooooooooo~
Rachel's fathers had four large plastic containers from Target full of green and yellow baby clothes, blankets, and toys. They extracted each article of clothing and explained why they'd bought it, before handing it to Rachel and Quinn to examine and fawn over.
Quinn stopped fawning after five sets of pajamas, while Rachel gleefully received each new sock and plush toy.
They visited Carole and Burt for dinner and went to bed at eight, mostly because Hiram threatened to bring out Rachel's baby books and Quinn was too tired to appreciate them fully.
But at one in the morning, Quinn was the one nudging Rachel awake, running her wooly socks up Rachel's legs until she finally blinked open her eyes and muttered some garbled protest.
It was dark, and she was warm, and she could feel Quinn pressed into her back, and she just really didn't want to move at the moment.
"Rachel, baby." Quinn whispered right against Rachel's cheek.
Rachel pressed her face into the pillow because that tickled, and Quinn kissed her ear.
"Baby, I'm hungry and I can't sleep."
There was no way Rachel could just close her eyes and ignore that. She rolled over and studied Quinn to make sure her wife wasn't sleep talking.
"Are you awake, bear?" Rachel whispered groggily.
Quinn nodded, and Rachel flailed an arm behind her to turn on the lamp. She and Quinn groaned when they were temporarily blinded by the light.
"No." Quinn protested vaguely, burying her face in Rachel's chest.
She ended up with a boob against her cheek, and Rachel could feel her smile. She tangled a hand in Quinn's hair and tugged on it to get her to look up.
"Do you need something to eat?" she asked thickly, already dreading the walk down to the freezing kitchen.
Quinn licked her lips, watching Rachel hesitantly. It was the look Rachel always got when Quinn was presenting her with something that might upset her. Like a new animal. Or cookies for lunch.
"What can I get you, baby?" Rachel asked, sitting up and wondering why her old house was so cold.
Quinn sat up as well. "I'm…I'd really like…orange Jell-O." she admitted softly.
Rachel's lips twitched. "Jell-O? Really?"
Quinn nodded. "Orange, please."
Rachel's amusement faded as she realized that would involve putting on pants and going outside and driving to some kind of open-all-night store, and she'd probably be killed or robbed or frozen to death.
"Or…toast." Quinn said, watching Rachel carefully. "I'm-toast is okay too."
Rachel threw the covers off like she was ripping away a Band-Aid and suppressed her groan. "I'll get you orange Jell-O, bear." She assured, already stumbling around the room to her suitcase, not really sure what it looked like or where she was going or why she was out of bed because it was one in the morning.
She was crouched low, disoriented, in front of her bookcase when a pair of sweatpants landed softly on her back. Rachel held them up and squinted at them, and then turned around to face Quinn.
"You just took off your pants?"
"You didn't bring sweats." Quinn explained, pulling the covers to her chin. "Put those over your pajamas and you'll be warm."
Rachel blinked. "But now you're not wearing any pants?"
Quinn frowned. "Are you awake, Rachel?"
Rachel shook her head, because really, no, she wasn't, but she pulled the sweats up over her fuzzy blue pajamas and rolled up the cuffs, grabbed a jacket and shoes and kissed Quinn before heading downstairs.
The cold woke her up, and she retrieved a four-pack of orange Jell-O from the all-night store in the center of town. She got blue as well because she just knew Quinn would go through all the colors of the rainbow. There were only a few cars on the road, and Rachel wondered if they were also up doing things for their warm, hungry, pregnant wives because love happens.
Rachel stumbled through the doorway when she got home, trying to stay quiet, but wholly unable to control her numb limbs. She put two of the Jell-O cups in the fridge and grabbed a spoon, and then hurried up the stairs to her warm bed.
"Alright bear, I have-"
Rachel cut herself off because the light was on and she could see Quinn lying down, curled under the covers with her face pressed into the pillow, shoulders shaking silently. Rachel rushed forward and dropped the Jell-O cups on the side table and her jacket on the desk, and then climbed in on the cool side of the bed facing Quinn.
"Quinn, baby, what's wrong?" she whispered, trying to wiggle her way into Quinn's space. "What happened? Do you feel alright?"
Quinn loosened her hold on the blankets and let Rachel in, of course, and Rachel scooted until she could wrap her fuzzy sweats around Quinn's bare legs.
"Bear, look at me." Rachel pleaded softly, tapping Quinn's temple. "Are you in pain? What's the matter?"
Quinn lolled her head to the side, sniffling quietly. Her shoulders kept shaking.
"Quinn…" Rachel rubbed her back and wiped away the tears from under shining hazel eyes. "Talk to me, please."
Quinn took a shuddering breath and coughed, and then dropped her head back onto the pillow.
"I want-I'd-I'd like onions." She managed, eyes on their pillowcase.
Rachel stared at her, concerned and confused and a little bit incredulous. "I-what?"
Quinn's face crumpled further.
Rachel panicked. "Wait, no, baby! I didn't hear what you said!"
"I don't-I don't like onions!" Quinn proclaimed shakily, picking her head back up. Rachel brushed away the hair stuck to her cheeks. "They're-they're awful. They ruin everything. Even the smell…"
Rachel nodded, almost violently. Agree, agree, agree.
"But I want them." Quinn muttered, pulling a hand out of the blankets to wipe at her eyes. "I don't know what's wrong with me."
Her voice cracked and she clamped her hand over her mouth and started crying again. It was never loud. She wasn't the kind to wail, like Rachel, who was so overwhelmed sometimes when she cried that she just needed to let it out through her mouth, like an exorcised demon.
Tears had effects on her voice that she could rarely achieve otherwise.
Rachel lifted herself onto an elbow and kissed Quinn's wet cheek, using her other hand to rub the back of her wife's neck.
"There's nothing wrong with you, sweetheart." She assured quietly, filled with adrenaline and relief because technically Quinn was perfectly fine.
In some kind of desperate need of onions, but fine.
Quinn shook her head against the pillow.
"This is normal, baby. You know that." Rachel soothed.
"I don't like onions." Quinn's voice was muffled.
Rachel smiled. "Maybe now you do."
Quinn shook her head again.
"Maybe I'll chop up some onions right now, because I like them and I'm pretty hungry, and if you'd like to try a few, just to make sure they're as awful as always, that would be perfectly fine."
Quinn was silent, breathing returning to normal. She lifted up her head and blinked tiredly at Rachel. "You look cold." She observed, distressed.
"I'm not, really. I have your pants on, remember?"
It took a moment, but Quinn's lips quirked up and she lifted the covers to see Rachel's legs.
"I'll give them back when I come back up." Rachel promised.
Quinn wiped her face with the pillow case and moved her jaw around. "Did you get Jell-O?"
Rachel nodded proudly. "Would you like some?"
"Yes, please." Quinn replied, voice small, and Rachel moved to roll out of bed, but found that Quinn had her trapped in her arms.
Quinn squeezed her tightly, and Rachel was glad for the warmth.
"Thank you. I love you. I'd like blue Jell-O next time, please."
~oooooooooooo~
Rachel watched with quite a bit of trepidation as Hiram spooned about half of a pumpkin pie onto her plate. He went to scrape up some more, but Rachel swept her plate away, too focused on keeping down her tofurkey and vegetables and potatoes and gravy to speak.
"Sure that's enough, honey?" Hiram checked.
Rachel hummed and returned to the couch, and Hiram dolloped the pie onto Quinn's outstretched plate.
"Thank you." Quinn declared happily, returning to her seat next to Rachel.
All Rachel could do was stare at the dessert. She felt dizzy, like she could face-plant into it at any moment. But it was Thanksgiving and she needed the full experience, so she'd have to take at least a couple bites of pie.
Quinn watched her. "There's no tryptophan in tofurkey, Rachel." She informed, mouth full of cream.
Rachel swayed in her comfy seat.
"Are you okay?"
"You kept me up last night." Rachel accused lightly, managing to pull her lips into a smile without Linda Blair-ing in the living room.
Hiram and Leroy both made loud noises of protest, pulling overly repulsed faces, and Quinn blushed profusely and shook her head.
"She's not-I was hungry and Rachel went to the store for me." She explained, clutching her stomach because she was also forcing pie somewhere it really wasn't wanted at the moment. A stomach full of turkey and macaroni and carrots wouldn't stop Quinn.
Rachel took a deep breath and lifted a bite to her mouth, chewing slowly and swallowing bit by bit. She refused to open her mouth very wide, so she was unsurprised when Quinn reached over and used her thumb to wipe cream from her top lip.
Rachel sighed heavily and Quinn smiled at her.
"So, girls, we have something we'd like to tell you." Leroy proclaimed.
He and Hiram seemed perfectly fine with their pie, obviously more self-restrained than both Rachel and Quinn. Rachel waved her hand through the air to get him to continue. She knocked Quinn in the shoulder because her vision was blurring, and she finally just put the pie on the coffee table and leaned into Quinn's side.
Quinn hummed sympathetically and ate more of her own dessert.
"We've decided to move to New York." Hiram informed, smiling brightly.
Rachel's first reaction was to squeal, but she contained herself because she needed to remain still until she regained function of her body. She gasped instead, a risky move, and clapped her hands together.
"When?" Quinn questioned, depositing her bowl on the table and then toppling sideways into Rachel. A full, foolish, pie-filled pile.
Leroy watched them fondly. "The new year! We want to be around for the baby, to babysit and visit and everything, so we're selling this place, and-"
"What?" Rachel interrupted, sitting forward abruptly. Quinn squeezed her thigh.
"In the new year," Leroy repeated, confused, "we're moving-"
"You're selling our house?" Rachel asked incredulously, eyes wide.
Hiram glanced at Leroy. Quinn kept her eyes on Rachel.
"Well, honey, we're not going to have a place in New York as well as this house. That's-"
"Why not?!"
Hiram frowned, like he was confused as to where this conversation had gone wrong. Surprisingly, Quinn was the one to fill the silence.
"It's not practical, baby." She said quietly, tapping the small of Rachel's back.
Rachel huffed shortly and chewed on her lip.
"We didn't think you were so attached to this house." Leroy ventured cautiously.
Rachel almost smiled. The big, blue house with a cherry tree in the backyard and a sound-proofed bedroom had been her home for seventeen years.
Sure, she had to hug the wall in her bedroom to get the air conditioner to stop rattling from within, but she loved the small, porcelain doorknobs on the cabinets in the kitchen, and the way her bedroom flooded with light in the morning because of her vaulted ceiling, focusing on her bed like a spotlight.
And she loved that her blue house had always been a safe place.
"I'm-I don't-maybe if…" Rachel looked for an explanation, eyes darting around the framed finger-paintings on the walls.
"Babe." Quinn murmured, just under her breath. She tapped Rachel's lips.
"I-I love New York," Rachel started, gazing earnestly at her dads, "and it'll be so great to have you there for the baby, but…this house. I like-I liked having somewhere I could go-warm and small, and-I just get overwhelmed sometimes."
Hiram looked confused. "But you only come out here on holidays, honey."
"I like knowing that I can come back." Rachel clarified. She glanced at Quinn. "I haven't needed to for a while."
Quinn straightened in her seat, gaze flitting from Rachel to Rachel's dads. "I think their new apartment, or house, can be that place for you, Rachel."
Leroy nodded immediately.
"It won't be in the city, right?" Quinn questioned, and Leroy nodded again. "So it will be quiet and warm, and probably even smaller than this one knowing how expensive New York real estate is."
Hiram frowned like he didn't know if he should be offended.
"And we'll fill it with new things, new baby memories, and we can steal the doorknobs from this kitchen if you'd like." Quinn plowed on.
Rachel's lips twitched. She was silent for a moment before addressing her dads. "You'll make sure it has a room for us and the baby?"
They nodded like it was obvious. Like they'd have a nursery and a playroom and a slide in the backyard because it was all necessary.
"Absolutely, sweetheart. Of course." Leroy assured, head still bobbing.
Rachel's stomach rumbled, and she caught Quinn's eye and had to smile.
Quinn grabbed Rachel's leftover pie and settled it in her wife's hands. "I'll help you."
And Rachel picked at the dessert with her fork, alternating bites between herself and Quinn, who liked to lick all over the utensil just to annoy Rachel.
Leroy and Hiram launched into a discussion about how they'd already bought a garage full of baby furniture, and how they would be able to transport it to New York.
~oooooooooooo~
Quinn's autism program at the zoo launched the first week of December, and she'd organized a 5k in Central Park to celebrate. Rachel wanted to participate, of course, to draw crowds and to hold a couple dogs, mostly Barnaby and Cornelius, so that Quinn wouldn't be dragged off into the sunset.
So Rachel stood in the cold on a blanket of dry leaves, in two pairs of track pants, her face buried so deeply in her hoody and puffy jacket that only her nose and eyes were visible. One mittened hand was shoved in her fleecy pocket, and the other held the dogs' leashes.
She could see Barnaby's breath as he panted excitedly, and she wondered why she consistently subjected herself to 5ks in extreme weather conditions.
But then Rachel blew into her hands and turned around to find Quinn speaking with two young boys, who'd been lifted over the guard rail, gesturing at Cloud's teeth like she was teaching them about canine dentistry.
One of the boys pointed at his own incisors, and Quinn laughed and nodded.
Rachel stepped towards the rail to see if she could sign some autographs without being dragged across a frozen pond by Barnaby.
"You know you're not goddamn Balto, right Berry?" A loud voice called out, and Rachel rolled her eyes and took a quick picture with a fan before turning to find Santana slithering her way past a security guard.
Brittany followed with Flappy, who wore some kind of rudimentary harness fashioned from colorful string.
"What the fuck are you doing out here?" Santana questioned once she was close enough. She wore a wool coat and slacks, obviously not planning on running five kilometers with hordes of fools.
Rachel smiled. "What are you doing out here?"
Santana ignored the question. "Are you pulling a sled? Or catching the Polar Express, because that's the only way you'll finish this thing."
Flappy squawked and waved his wings around, and Quinn appeared at Rachel's side, cheeks red and eyes shining. Rachel kneeled down and wrapped her arms around Cloud because he was basically a polar bear and he should be able to keep her warm.
"Poultry don't like cold weather, Britt." Quinn informed, eyeing Flappy dubiously. "That's why they migrate south for the winter. Most of our chickens come from Georgia."
Brittany hummed sagely. "Flaps is different from the other ducks."
Flappy surged forward like he was trying to attack the crowd, but his colorful harness caught him and tipped him onto his back. Santana was turned away from them, obviously trying to pretend she didn't know these people.
"Really, what are you doing here?" Rachel asked, standing up and sputtering on floating white fur.
"Blaine and Kurt made us bridesmaids!" Brittany proclaimed. "And probably you too, but we weren't really listening so I don't know. We're dress shopping."
Rachel rocked back on her heels as Quinn forcefully brushed the white dog hair off her jacket.
"And we thought 'hey, what are those idiots in the park doing?'" Santana added helpfully.
"It's for autism awareness and animal education." Quinn stated quietly, focusing on Rachel's jacket.
Brittany elbowed Santana's ribs. "Yeah, San. Autism awareness and animal education."
Flappy took off, and was yanked back down to the ground by his harness.
"Don't knock me over, bear." Rachel instructed with a smile, stutter-stepping backwards to stay on her feet while Quinn brushed at her front.
Quinn frowned at the black jacket. "You're all static-y. It's not coming off."
Cloud had provided Rachel with her own layer of fur.
"Miss Berry!" a local reporter called out, standing next to a security guard on the other side of the rail, "Could we have a word?"
Rachel smiled enthusiastically, and was pleasantly surprised when Quinn accompanied her over to the camera.
"It's Berry-Fabray." Quinn stated bluntly, staring at the reporter, unamused. He nodded indulgently and repeated the correct name, and Quinn crunched the leaves under her shoes and looked expectantly at Rachel.
Rachel chuckled and adjusted her jacket so that she looked less like an Eskimo.
"Now, Rachel, and Quinn, we have a few questions for you both from our zealous Broadway fans."
Rachel puffed herself up and glanced eagerly up at Quinn, whose gaze was on a police horse in the distance. She subtly poked Quinn's thigh to get her to focus.
"We'd love to answer some questions." Rachel grinned.
"Okay, first, from Marissa in Brooklyn, what made you want to combine autism awareness with animal rescue and education?"
Rachel raised her eyebrows and looked at Quinn, whose eyes were back on the horse.
"There was a dog named Apple, and I used to read to him." Quinn answered softly. She didn't say anything else, like her explanation was enough, so Rachel decided to elaborate.
"Quinn found that animals, dogs especially, are great for people with autism. And-"
"They're tolerant and tactile and practical in how they act." Quinn interrupted, nodding with Rachel. "They live in everybody's world. Nobody is shut out."
The reporter tilted his head at the curious phrasing.
"I'm currently reconstructing one of our snow monkey's legs, and he tried to throw bits of banana at me." Quinn continued, smiling at Rachel because she'd told her this last night. "But he threw bits of banana at everybody, because to him everybody's just a person, and we all have two legs and stand upright and get cold in the snow and hot in the summer, and nothing else should matter."
Rachel bit her lip watching the reactions of the small crowd who'd never met Quinn's mind before. A few furrowed their brows, probably thinking "I don't get hot in the summer," and others nodded approvingly. Some stared in wonder and thought.
"I completely agree." The reporter remarked, pulling out his next card. "Casey, in Manhattan, would like to know, who is messier at home? Rachel or Quinn?"
Rachel laughed immediately, loudly, and Quinn puffed out her cheeks in offense and looked back at the horse.
"Quinn." Rachel answered confidently. "Quinn is a mess, but only with food and her hair. Otherwise, we're both very neat."
"Rachel is a clutz, though." Quinn tacked on. "Always knocking things over. So I say we're equal."
The reporter smiled. "Eric, also from Manhattan, is wondering, if you two could be anything else in the world, what would you be?"
There was a beat of silence, and then Quinn answered "Triceratops" at the same time Rachel said "teacher."
And then Rachel snorted because Quinn, and the reporter laughed like he thought Quinn was joking.
Quinn's cheeks grew redder. "Wait, no-I'm, no, I misunderstood the question."
That made Rachel laugh louder, and she knew her fans would love this interview. Almost as much as they loved Quinn and Rachel's dogs, and Kurt, because he'd once picked Rachel up piggy-back style and sprinted across the park to amuse the paparazzi.
"Next question, from Alec in the Bronx, are you competitive people, and do you actually try to win the 5ks you run?"
Quinn was still bright red and probably thinking about dinosaurs, so Rachel took the question.
"You need to change that 'run' to 'walk,' because I can't run to save my life." She joked. "I'm not a runner, and I'd die if something like a wolf tried to chase me down."
Quinn snorted lightly. "Wolves hunt in packs, Rachel. You'd die anyway."
Rachel knocked into her shoulder.
"Quinn had to carry me across the finish line the first time we did this."
The reporter looked amused. "Is that what will happen today?"
Rachel smiled softly. "Not in her condition."
"What condition is that?" The reporter probably figured Rachel was making another joke, but Rachel froze at what she'd just done.
No filter at all.
"She's-I mean, we've just been-" Rachel sputtered, right as Quinn declared "We're having a baby."
The crowd seemed suspended in time, waiting for somebody to confirm that Quinn wasn't joking. Quinn stared steadfastly at the reporter and took Rachel's mittened hand in her own.
Alright then, no beating around the bush. No nonsense or games.
Rachel nodded in confirmation, and her fans exploded with shrieks and applause, startling the dogs into play-mode. Quinn wrapped an arm around Rachel's waist, and they thanked the reporters, not giving out any further details, and went to walk their race with their dogs, hearts warmed with the fact that there were already people out there who loved this baby and supported them.
Rachel hoped it would stay that way, excitement and warmth and positivity at all times. It seemed to be rare.
"Tell me if you need to rest, bear, okay?" Rachel instructed, speaking through her smile and waving to her fans at the starting line.
Quinn nodded. "We're jogging, right?"
"Until I collapse or freeze to death."
Quinn smiled. "But you need to carry me across the finish line. Me and little baby."
"And tell me if you feel sick, or if you want to stop for a churro or something."
A nice cinnamon snack halfway through a 5k run.
Quinn did stop, actually, but it was only to buy a rose from a vendor right off the path, and she smiled widely, cheeks red, and slid it behind Rachel's ear as they walked.
"For you." She said simply.
Rachel knew that Quinn would make the sweetest Triceratops.