Still off the Key of Reason
Chapter 27: Now Take It In, but Don't Look Down
Rachel crouched on the floor with one arm wrapped solidly around Cornelius's chest and a hand threaded through his collar. She tipped into his side to prevent him from charging her newborn, and then nodded to Quinn.
"You have him?" Quinn checked, perched on the couch with the baby carrier on her lap.
James was dozing peacefully in the pale blue onesie and matching cap he'd worn home from the hospital, swaddled in blankets and buckled securely with his scrunched up face peeking out the top. There were three dogs, two cats, and a rabbit all locked perilously in a single bedroom to be introduced to him.
Cornelius was vibrating with energy, mischievous and volatile. Rachel could feel it through his silky black fur.
"Are you absolutely sure?" Quinn pressed, half shielding the baby carrier like she didn't trust Rachel's strength with their dog.
Rachel nodded impatiently. "Baby, hurry up. We have six more to do and it's bedtime."
"It's five o'clock." Quinn remarked, absently tapping the plastic carrier.
"And we need adequate rest before James begins his crying phase. Are you not tired?"
Rachel knew Quinn was tired. Absolutely exhausted and rapidly losing lucidity.
Her hair was flat and tangled, and she was sore and there were shadows under her eyes, and she didn't even need to nod because Puck had almost had to carry her up the stairs to their second floor.
"What if we both fall asleep and something happens to him?" Quinn asked instead, ignoring the question and calmly carrying on a conversation while Rachel was struggling with Cornelius on the floor.
"He'll be right next to us, bear." Rachel assured breathlessly. She twisted her weight when Seal squirmed. "Blaine and Kurt mov-moved the bassinet to our room."
"I know, but something could still-" Quinn sat forward abruptly and blew into Cornelius's nose. The dog stilled, and his alert brown eyes landed on Quinn, ears angled forward.
Rachel spat the dog hair out of her mouth.
"Something could still go wrong." Quinn finished earnestly. "You know, he breathes periodically, sort of sporadically, like a cow."
Rachel stared. "What?"
"He'll breathe consistently, and then he pauses for a second or takes an extra deep breath, like cows do. Like temporary hyperpnea." Quinn explained, warily watching Rachel's eyes widen. "Don't-the doctor informed me it's perfectly normal. You were sleeping."
"Oh my-why did you bring it up if it's normal?" Rachel asked incredulously, now stricken with panic.
"I thought-I don't-" Quinn fumbled, and then frowned and sat forward. "Rachel hurry up, it's bedtime. What are you doing?"
Rachel scoffed, and it came out high-pitched and disbelieving, but whatever magic air Quinn had blown into Cornelius's nostrils seemed to be wearing off, so she shuffled him closer before he could try to escape again. Quinn turned the baby carrier and held it in her hands just above the dog's eye level.
"Seal, this is James." Quinn introduced softly, unblinkingly watching Cornelius's face. "James, this is Cornelius. He's a border collie. They're very smart."
Rachel snorted softly and kept Cornelius from pushing his head into the baby's space. James wasn't even awake for his first lesson in dog breeds.
"You can…loosen your hold a little, babe." Quinn said quietly, eyeing Cornelius.
His ears twitched forward and his eyes were shining and alert, and he sat perfectly still, sniffing curiously over the blanket at James's feet when Rachel gave him some slack.
"There's a good boy." Rachel cooed. She kept an arm across his chest just so that he wouldn't get carried away.
Quinn smiled, like she'd had confidence in him all along. "See, he can be gentle sometimes."
It was like a different dog. But the tag on his collar said "SEAL," and there was a shaved spot on his leg from where he'd been playing in a streak of oil in a parking garage several blocks away, so it was definitely Cornelius.
He sat back and panted happily, leaning all of his weight onto Rachel until she dragged him away to fetch the next dog.
Barnaby and Cloud reacted much the same, with less struggle, and Barnaby rested his nose at the base of the baby carrier and watched James's face calmly. Charizard refused to step too close to the baby, Butter had no interest whatsoever in anything she couldn't eat, and Jelly repeatedly attempted to climb into the carrier because it seemed to be the center of attention.
Benjamin kicked Rachel in the chest before she could even introduce him to James, and she decided they'd save that for another day.
So James was moved to the bassinet in the master bedroom, and he opened his eyes and blinked blurrily when Rachel scooped him smoothly out of the baby carrier with his blanket. He was still the lightest, most beautiful thing. She took off his cap and kissed his forehead and laid him down, and then sat on the edge of the bed with Quinn.
Quinn was captivated as well. Swaying slightly into Rachel with exhaustion, but captivated.
"Do you need a hot water bottle, baby?" Rachel asked quietly, leaning into her side.
Quinn hummed. "I don't think that helps."
James twisted his hands up under his chin and they both smiled.
"How about ice?"
"Oh, no." Quinn grimaced.
Rachel tapped her thigh lightly, and James fell asleep within a few minutes, bubbles forming at his lips. Rachel sighed at his expression. She wanted to sleep, but she didn't want to take her eyes off of this perfect new thing in their house.
"What do we do now?" she wondered, squeezing Quinn's leg.
She had no nurses, no lactation specialists, no professionals to tell her what to do. Just a baby who breathed like a cow and a wife right there next to her.
"Sleep?" Quinn offered, unsure.
Rachel wrapped both arms around Quinn's shoulders, dragging her eyes away from James to press her face into Quinn's sweatshirt.
Quinn chuckled lightly. "Do you need a hot water bottle, Rachel? Maybe some ice?"
"Hold me, please." She requested.
Quinn immediately scooted backwards and tugged Rachel with her, and then rolled into Rachel's side and squeezed her tightly.
"I'm not going to be able to fall asleep." Rachel whispered, listening carefully for James's breathing.
Quinn shushed her. "Just cuddle."
"I'm too excited."
"Count hippos."
"Of course." Rachel shook her head, knocking it into Quinn's chin.
Quinn put a hand over Rachel's ear to hold her still. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Rachel couldn't even remember what she'd said, she was so out of it. "I can't wait to see what he does next." She mused instead, eyeing the baby carrier behind Quinn's arm.
Quinn lifted her head up to see James and hummed in agreement. When Rachel opened her mouth again, Quinn squeezed tighter like it would make her stay quiet, which it did, and Rachel fell asleep listening to her baby breathe like a cow.
~ooooooooooooo~
It was a couple days before the full-blown crying started. James dozed mostly, cried when he was hungry, and succeeded in lulling Rachel and Quinn into a false sense of security. And then he woke up at two o'clock on Thursday morning, bawling at a spectacular volume and twisting his little hands around, and Rachel was hit with the reality of a newborn baby.
They moved the bassinet into the nursery that night, carefully maneuvering it in the bright hallway lights, half-asleep and pitching against the walls in delirium. Rachel found that she might have to strap Quinn down to prevent her from running to check on James every ten minutes.
Which wouldn't be possible, because Rachel would be hustling through that door right by her side.
Rachel leaned against the changing table on Friday afternoon, a camera, photo album, marker, and notebook in her hands. Quinn was changing James's diaper, inordinately delighted at finally having guessed the cause of his distress.
"How would you describe that, Quinn?" Rachel opened her notebook to the chart she'd printed neatly on the first page. "I need to add it to the pee and poop schedule."
Her vocabulary had adapted easily to life with a baby.
Quinn side-eyed her. "Do you want…texture?"
Rachel nodded expectantly.
"I don't think that's necessary, Rachel."
"Keeping detailed records at this stage in his life is a must, Quinn." Rachel handed over the baby powder. "We're going to start losing sleep, and we'll be liable to forget things."
Quinn sighed. "Maybe we could just write it down if it seems abnormal. There's no need-"
"Please." Rachel interrupted, face falling. "I'd feel more comfortable. You know how I-it's-I like to write things down."
Quinn smiled slightly, focused on fastening the new diaper. "I know you do."
Rachel was actually growing anxious. All she needed to know was the texture of the poop. She needed to write it down, make sure everything was normal, shut the notebook, return James to his crib, order something for dinner, and then head out to her show.
This was holding everything up. And if one thing was held up, everything would be.
"I'm not joking, baby." Rachel said quietly. She clutched the notebook tightly.
Quinn turned and stared at her for a second. They were both in sweats and t-shirts, and Rachel's hair was curled sloppily around her shoulders. Mis-matched socks, spit-up stains already.
"It was the same as last time." Quinn informed, reaching for Rachel's fingers. "Quarter-sized. Yellow."
Rachel hummed and printed the description on her chart. When she looked up, Quinn was still looking at her. James lifted a foot in the air and blinked obliviously.
"You can go lie down if you need-"
"No, I'm okay." Rachel cut Quinn off. She remembered abruptly that she needed to get to the theater early to have one of her dresses re-hemmed. And there was laundry to do and flights to book for her dads.
Quinn lifted a hand and palmed one of Rachel's flushed cheeks.
"Okay." she said softly, probably disbelievingly, and she smiled when Rachel pulled her hand away to give it a kiss.
"Let's put him back." Rachel whispered.
Quinn focused her attention back on James. She tickled the bottoms of his feet, grinning at his wide eyes, and then she leaned forward and kissed his bare tummy.
"You're all set, baby bear." She cooed brightly. She took one of his feet and pressed it to her mouth, complete with growling noises, and Rachel couldn't suppress her smile.
"Mmm, yum yum." Quinn declared, playing with his legs.
James's fists opened and closed, and his blue eyes stared unblinkingly, and Rachel found herself laughing because he obviously had no idea what was happening.
And then four hours later, all Rachel had done was a load of laundry.
She swayed around the nursery with a crying James in her arms, trying to tear herself away because she really needed to make her show tonight. She'd missed six already, and her ankle had healed and Quinn said she could handle James by herself for an evening, and Rachel was just out of excuses.
How could she possibly dance around on stage when she had a baby at home?
"This isn't working." Rachel remarked, high-pitched, glancing at Quinn sprawled across the comfy rocking chair.
Quinn shrugged helplessly. "Maybe-just-try switching positions again? You burped him, right?"
Rachel nodded. "Okay, baby." She whispered, maneuvering James so that he was upright with his head on her shoulder. "Can you stop crying for mama? Please?"
James went silent for a minute, and Rachel was amazed. But then the spit-up hit her shoulder and soaked into the faded NYU sweatshirt and she sighed without even looking at it. Quinn's sigh was louder, sadder, because James seemed to be having trouble breast-feeding and losing what looked like a whole meal was disconcerting.
"I don't think he likes milk." Rachel remarked wryly, gently wiping James's face before settling him back in the crib.
Quinn wordlessly leaned back in the chair and lifted her legs onto the footrest.
"Are you sure you'll be alright tonight?" Rachel wondered, patting absently at her sweatshirt with a towel before just rolling her eyes and pulling it over her head. Half her shirt came with it, and Quinn's eyes landed on her exposed abdomen and lingered there, too tired to move away.
"Because I don't have to go back yet. I can put it off until-"
"You do." Quinn smiled softly. "They miss you. We'll be fine here, babe."
Rachel shuffled over and sat on the armrest, and then wiggled down until she was next to Quinn in the chair. Quinn kissed her head and discreetly patted down her hair.
"I'll miss you too." Rachel said weakly. Her chest felt a bit heavy, and she knew she had to leave soon. "Call me if you need anything, okay?"
"I will."
"Don't hesitate, even if it's just a tiny little thing."
"I know, Rachel."
"And your food should be here shortly. Max's delivers fairly quickly."
Quinn tapped her fingers against Rachel's side. "You need to go, Rachel."
Rachel swallowed thickly. She was quickly degenerating. "I don't want to go."
Quinn was silent for a minute. She studied Rachel's face and the tears coming out of nowhere, and then sighed and wrapped her arms around her wife. "Then don't go, baby. Don't cry."
"I have to go." Rachel sniffled.
It was a ridiculous situation, really.
"Do what you need to do. Go to your show, Rachel." Quinn said quietly, right against her ear. "And then when you get back, you can come in here and watch him sleep for as long as you need. And then you can lie with me, and tomorrow we can have waffles for breakfast and we can give him another sponge bath, okay?"
Rachel breathed shakily.
"It's only a few hours." Quinn reminded. "And you love it. You'll love being back on the stage."
Rachel nodded. "O-okay, I'll go. Remember to record everything on the-on the chart if you change his diaper, and write down when he sleeps and when he cries, and get-get some rest of your own, bear."
Quinn smiled. She tugged on a lock of Rachel's messy hair and shifted until Rachel could extract herself from the chair.
Rachel went straight to the crib and leaned over it until she could kiss James's forehead. "Night night, baby." She whispered, and really-leaving was like tearing off one of her limbs. "Take care of mommy while I'm gone, please."
And then she gave Quinn a kiss and pried herself out of the nursery before she could have a breakdown on the floor.
~ooooooooooooo~
Only a couple days later, things seemed to be degenerating far too quickly. Or escalating, rolling out of control, right off the tracks. Rachel hadn't anticipated running out of food. She hadn't known they'd have to order in each night because neither she nor Quinn had the time or energy to make dinner, and she really wasn't used to keeping the hours of a serial killer.
Sporadically up all night, napping at noon, careening drowsily through the streets to her shows in the evenings. It was all Rachel could do to keep up, and she was dizzy and feverish and just waiting for a nosebleed.
She wandered drowsily into the kitchen at four in the morning-because that was the kind of thing she did now- and found Quinn sitting slouched over the breakfast bar, eyes half-closed, spooning Frosted Flakes into her mouth. There was no indication that Quinn had heard her. Or that Quinn was awake.
"Is that soy milk?" Rachel asked groggily, quietly, settling onto the stool next to her wife.
Quinn held a spoonful up to Rachel's mouth, not bothering to answer.
It dribbled down her chin, but Rachel had been covered in so much spit-up lately that she barely even noticed.
"Why are you roaming about?" Quinn murmured, drooping even lower. Rachel expected her to just slide right off the stool. Fall asleep on the floor.
"You didn't come back to bed."
Quinn scoffed sloppily into her cereal. "There's no point. He'll just…wake up again in an hour."
Rachel sighed. She tilted into Quinn's shoulder and accepted another spoonful of cereal.
"And we don't have any food." Quinn declared hopelessly. "We need-we can't…"
She gave up and slouched lower until her hair grazed the milk in her bowl. Rachel reached over and brushed it behind her ears.
"I'll-maybe I can go tomorrow." Rachel mused.
Tomorrow was…Tuesday. Or Wednesday. Maybe Christmas? Maybe June.
"You have an interview and a show. Of course you can't." Quinn shook her head.
"It doesn't take that long, baby."
Quinn clenched her jaw and kicked her socks against the rung of the stool.
"You need to go to bed." Rachel drawled, leaning back to stretch and nearly toppling off the stool. She seized the counter, jammed her toe into the wall, and felt nothing because it was four in the morning.
Quinn shushed her. "You'll wake him up!"
Rachel just sighed. She took Quinn's abandoned spoon and pulled the bowl of cereal towards her. "I'm having this if you're not going to finish it."
Quinn folded her arms on the counter and dropped her chin on top of them.
"Go to sleep, Quinn." Rachel requested quietly. She dragged her fingers over Quinn's hair and rolled her eyes when her wife squirmed away.
"I can't sleep."
"Don't be snappy."
Quinn sat up again and fixed her tired eyes on Rachel's. "I'm not-it's…" She exhaled sharply out of her nose and reached for Rachel's bowl. "Give me my cereal back."
"Share it with me." Rachel slopped milk out of her spoon when she refused to let go. "And slow down. You eat faster than I do. And stop putting so much sugar on them. They come frosted."
"I don't even like Frosted Flakes. You ate all the good cereal."
Rachel shoved the bowl back to her wife. "You're being ridiculous, Quinn." She said shortly. "We need to go back to bed."
Quinn stared blandly at the bowl. She wasn't touching it, and Rachel rolled her eyes and pulled it back because really she was starving.
"I can't sleep." Quinn murmured, rocking slightly in her seat.
Rachel watched her and dribbled more milk down her chin. "Why not?"
"My-I'm sore. My boobs really hurt." Quinn flushed in the dim light. "I mean-they're-I never thought breasts could hurt so badly."
"You should take your pain meds."
Quinn really couldn't complain about pain when she refused to take the medication the doctors had given her. She sighed in frustration and shook her hair out. "No, Rachel."
"You'll be able to sleep." Rachel pressed, mouth full of Flakes. Drops flew over the counter and she reached out to wipe them with her hand.
"I'm not-I don't need them."
Rachel heard the waver in Quinn's voice and collected up what little tact she could muster at such an ungodly hour.
"They're for pain, baby." She murmured, watching Quinn's profile. "They're not like what you used to take."
Quinn swallowed thickly. "I don't need them."
"You need sleep. For…my sake, and James's sake. You need to be able to sleep."
Quinn was silent. She tapped her heels against the rung on the chair and finally looked at Rachel. "Maybe-maybe I could take them just once?" she wondered carefully. "And see what they accomplish."
Rachel smiled, or tried to, because she couldn't really control her face this early. "Okay, bear."
And then she went back to her cereal, the only food in the house, and was hit with the sudden realization that wow, they needed help. They needed help now, desperately, because Rachel was ready to roll off the stool, across the floor, out the window, and into the sun, and Quinn was sleeping in a bowl of milk.
"I'm calling Santana." She declared abruptly, sliding her phone out of the pocket of her fleecy pajamas.
Quinn stared, hair mussed from how it was resting on her arms. "What?"
"We need help."
"Just-you can't wait until the morning?" Quinn frowned. "She might get angry."
Rachel laughed wryly. "She will get angry, but we need help now. I need-I need to call somebody now, Quinn."
Or she'd lose her mind. She'd tear something apart or throw something against the wall, and it just needed to be done. They had too much to do by themselves.
Quinn studied her. "Okay, baby." She said softly, reaching out to squeeze Rachel's thigh.
Santana picked up on the first ring, surprisingly, and Rachel plowed right through their friend's unintelligible, obnoxious morning gibberish.
"I'm sorry to call so early, Santana, but we need help."
Santana fell silent, or fell back to sleep, and Rachel switched the phone to speaker. "We really need help." Rachel repeated. "My dads won't be here for a week, and we're sort of…we're so tired."
"Mmm." Santana hummed groggily. "Like…shit. Right now?"
Her voice sounded annoyed, but Rachel could hear her shuffling around like she was preparing to get out of bed.
"Not…this second." Quinn supplied. "We're out of-we're out of food. Rachel ate all my cereal, and we need-"
"It's not just your cereal." Rachel huffed.
"And we need casseroles or something, I don't know." Quinn plowed on. "Lasagna. Anything big and freezable. Rachel likes all kinds of pasta."
Rachel nodded. "And we need groceries and paper towels, and we really need help around the house, and maybe Britt would like to play with the dogs this week? I think they're feeling neglected."
"Wait, slow the hell down." Santana interrupted. "I gotta-let me get a pen. Britt, where's a pen? It's-no, it's Rachel and Quinn. They're having an early morning breakdown and they called Auntie San to rescue them."
Rachel snorted lightly. She was feeling relieved already. Santana was getting a pen and things would get done.
"Okay, so…lasagna. Casserole. Paper towels." Santana listed. "Any particular brand of paper towel? Bounty? Scott?"
Quinn narrowed her eyes. "Are you serious?"
"Always, sunshine."
Quinn stared at the phone, confused and exasperated, and Rachel shook her head and took Quinn's hand.
"I'll call Puckerman and Kurt, and we'll work out how we're gonna drag our asses around there to help you guys out." Santana informed distractedly, and Rachel heard more shuffling and crinkling of papers in the background.
"Thank you." Rachel said sincerely. "Really Santana, we really-just, thank you."
Santana scoffed. "Next time-well, no, next time do exactly the same thing. If you need help, call. I'll send a minion over to do the job. And I expect you to be my servants when I have a damn baby."
"Thank you, Santana." Quinn murmured, drooping gradually back down to the counter.
"You got it, Sunny Delight."
Quinn rolled her eyes, and Rachel hung up and slurped the rest of the milk from the cereal bowl. She finished and wiped her mouth, and then her eyes and her cheeks because they were flushed and tired, and Quinn watched her fondly.
"You can have all the Frosted Flakes next time, Rachel." Quinn offered, amused. A little guilty.
Rachel stood up, unsteady because it was still four in the morning, and she wordlessly kissed Quinn's cheek and wandered back towards their bedroom to collapse again.
And then James started crying.
~ooooooooooo~
Santana banged on the door at ten the next morning. Rachel didn't bother going down the stairs to open it, because-why start now?-and Santana appeared in the living room after a few seconds with Kurt, Brittany, Blaine, and Puck on her heels.
With smiles, balloons, bags, and colorful boxes, they crept daintily along the wood floor, whispering like schoolchildren.
Rachel watched warily, splayed out on the couch under a heavy, sleeping Quinn.
"Where's Jon Bon?" Puck whispered, dropping a cooler next to the coffee table. "Is he sleeping?"
Rachel lolled her head around vaguely.
"We have a surprise for you!" Kurt declared, and his voice came out in such a high pitch that Quinn groaned and pressed her face more snugly against Rachel's chest.
"Up and at 'em, Quinn!" Blaine added brightly, pulling containers of food out of one of the bags.
Rachel's eyes blurred as she watched them all.
Santana stepped forward, eyebrows raised expectantly, and she lifted her hands when Rachel made no move to get off the couch.
"What do you want?" Rachel asked grouchily, tangling a hand in Quinn's hair.
"What?" Quinn mumbled, attempting to pick up her head.
"Not you, bear."
"We want to give you the baby shower that you never had because baby Jem came along three weeks early." Kurt informed, now sashaying around with various gift bags.
Rachel blinked. "You-a baby shower?"
"Yes. Presents, food." Santana said impatiently, staring down at them. "Do you need a dictionary? Is your baby sapping all your intelligence, Berry?"
"Hey." Quinn protested in a tired grumble, muffled by Rachel's shoulder.
Santana smirked and waited to see if she'd say anything else. "Hey, what?"
Quinn frowned and lifted her head and blinked sleepily at the people surrounding her. "What?"
"Stop confusing her." Rachel ordered shortly, glaring at Santana.
Their friends looked bewildered. Like they'd left Quinn and Rachel alone for only a couple days, and then come back to find that they'd lost their minds and most of their ability to function.
"We're sending you guys to the park." Blaine informed. He took Santana by the shoulders and guided her back to Brittany before she could poke at Rachel any further.
Quinn hummed, pleased, like she'd smelled something nice. Rachel snorted at the sound and ran a hand over her back.
"It's only a few minutes away, and we've packed you a blanket and loads of food, and we'll take care of James and the dogs until you have to come back to feed him."
Quinn lifted herself up again, wedging herself between Rachel and the back of the couch. "We can't leave him here." She stated like it was obvious.
Puck looked up from where he was rolling on the floor with Cloud. "Dude, it's like two hours. We can handle him."
"I'm-yeah, you can." Quinn faltered. "But I don't want to-just-I can't leave him behind."
Rachel smiled. Maybe Quinn would find out what it was like for her to leave James every day for her shows. To painstakingly pry herself out that door, because that perfect little face that never shut up was her baby boy.
"You can sleep in the grass." Brittany promised. "And swim in the pond if you'd like."
Quinn shook her head uncertainly.
"Blaine made like seven thousand casseroles for you this morning," Santana drawled.
"Three. I made three."
"And when you get back," Santana continued. "We'll have gifts, and cookies, and you can feed Jimbo and then go back to sleep like the lazy asses you've become."
Quinn stared, and then turned to look at Rachel, so close that her nose pressed against Rachel's cheek. "What do you think?"
"Yes." Rachel nodded, unable to elaborate because James had stolen her vocabulary.
Quinn tapped Rachel's stomach. "Yeah? He'll be okay?"
"He'll be fine, baby. We'll only be a few minutes away."
Quinn's face looked so conflicted that Rachel had to smile.
"If you don't say yes in five seconds, we're leaving." Santana declared.
And just like that, they were shuffled off the couch and handed a basket and given barely any time to go to the nursery to say goodbye to James. They walked to the park, like two drunken fools swaying a bit dangerously around the sidewalk, not really sure where they were or what was going on, and they dropped straight to the grass in the lovely spring sunshine.
Their friends had packed fresh deli sandwiches and tofurkey and pasta and grapes, with cookies and brownies and Sunny Delight, and Rachel was overwhelmed. She worked on a tofurkey sandwich while Quinn bit into a cookie wedged between two brownies, and it was like she'd plugged herself in to charge.
"We…have nice friends." Quinn mumbled, hand over her mouth.
Rachel hummed. Their friends had their moments. She kicked off her shoes and rolled her sweats up to her knees and lounged back in the grass, still chewing on her sandwich.
"Don't choke." Quinn warned, eyes focused entirely on her brownie behind her sunglasses. She coughed violently on a chunk and then took a deep, shuddering breath when she'd cleared it from her throat.
"Dome jogue." Rachel chided around her mouthful.
Quinn lay back next to her, glowing in the sun, and then tilted her head and smiled so that Rachel could see the brownie bit she'd purposely lodged in her teeth.
Rachel snorted and shoved her away. "Don't be gross."
"I made you laugh."
"I can't see your eyes." Rachel reached up to pluck the sunglasses off her wife's face, and Quinn batted her hand away.
"It's too bright." She whined.
"Because you haven't been outside for days, bear."
Quinn was silent for a second, and Rachel coughed on her sandwich and was forced to sit up on her elbows to finish it.
"I miss him." Quinn sighed, playing with the back of Rachel's shirt.
Rachel looked down at her fondly. "It's been twenty minutes."
"I want to go home and see him again." Quinn admitted, pressing her fingers into her brownie sandwich. "Polar bears live in dens with their babies for four months. They never get a break."
"They're bears." Rachel lay back down, without her sandwich this time, and she twisted Quinn's arm around so that she could put her head on her wife's shoulder. Quinn held her closely.
"And they say goodbye to their babies at some point." Rachel mused, not entirely sure. "We'll have ours forever."
Quinn hummed. "Old like elephants."
"I miss him too." Rachel declared, suddenly hit with the image of James's chubby, red cheeks and tiny toes and blonde eyelashes just like Quinn's. Even when he cried, he twisted his round little fists about, and it was irresistible.
"We'll go home soon." Quinn assured quietly.
Her brownie rested on her stomach now, and her eyes were closed, face tilted towards Rachel's in the sun. She smelled like baby powder and cookies, and Rachel slept peacefully in the grass for the first time in a week.