Harley Quinn Davidson Glad you enjoyed it. And I hope that you enjoy this chapter as well.

LSpatz Thank you. :) Yeah, they've worked out some issues. And don't worry, there will be both plenty of between the sheets action and all the other "lovey dovey" stuff as well.

gllover22 Hey, gush away. Won't here me complaining. :) It gives me the warm and fuzzies to know that you're enjoying the story and like the way I'm portraying the characters.

Guest Thank you.

RachelBarbraBerry That's another chapter or so away, but I hope you like this one in the meantime.

LaurenKnight13 Me too. To both those things. I don't like it when they fight. And I want to see the Unholy Trinity back together.

Fabraygron lol. Thank you. I feel better now knowing that you don't think I suck. Because I was feeling pretty sucky for not getting that update up sooner. My holiday was good. Nice, relaxed family time. Thanks. I'm glad you had a good one as well. Yeah, they seem to know when to push and when to support each other. lol. Blunt Rachel is my favorite.

DameonCain Glad you enjoyed it.

wkgreen Yep, they made up. & they don't do anything by halves, either. Yep. I think Santana woud relish it. But, luckily we don't have to find out just yet. I tried not to keep you waiting too long this time. :)

mysticmelodies Well, welcome to the story. I'm glad you took a chance on it and decided to give it a read. And that it managed to capture your interest. Thank you. I'm glad you're enjoying it and I hope that you continue to as it progresses.

Chapter 26

Rachel forgot about the text message and Quinn's concerns within a few steps, because as they rounded the corner into the small alley that led to the stage doors they came upon a small group of hopeful autograph seekers hovering a few feet away. Upon spotting Rachel they perked up, eyes widening and grins growing in excitement. Hands fumbled for pens and pages rustled as they slowly gravitated towards her. Rachel, for her part, was in her element, grinning widely as she lengthenend her stride, calling out a greeting as she closed the distance between them. Quinn trailed slowly in her wake, her thoughts going once again to the cell phone in her pocket. As Rachel chatted amiably and signed notebooks and glossy magazine photos Quinn pulled her cell out.

She quickly sent of a text to Lara and Olivia, letting them know that things had gone well and that they should meet her at the theatre, then turned her attention to the unread message in her inbox. For a long moment, her thumb hovered over the other woman's name as she steeled herself to open it. Even though Rachel had said that she hadn't told Santana they had fought, she couldn't help but be worried.

Taking a deep breath she finally tapped open the message. A soft, strangled sound issuing from her throat as she was caught between sighing with relief and laughing at her own paranoia.

Her eyes darted over the message again and again, just to be sure she was reading it correctly. Coffee? Tomorrow?

A faint smile tugged at her lips, not just at the invitation but at the fact that Santana had made it. Though she had been sincere in her intentions to get together, she couldn't help but feel immeasurably pleased that it was Santana who was making the effort.

Mentally, Quinn ran over the next day's schedule. They had auditions starting at 11 and would likely be finished around four or so, the space they had rented to hold the open casting session only available to them until 5, then it was home to nightly performances of another show.

Sure. 5? She typed out in reply. Name the place.

She hadn't even placed the phone back in her pocket before it rang, causing her to almost drop it before she managed to fumble it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Q. What's up? You don't answer your phone anymore?"

Quinn rolled her eyes but didn't bother to reply, she knew that Santana hadn't called just to razz her about how long it had taken to reply to the text.

"So, tomorrow at 5 is good. I'll only have a couple hours though, I have to be at work for a delivery."

That was fine with Quinn, she hoped to be able to spend the evening with Rachel.

"I still can't believe that you run a bar," Quinn said in reply. "I kind of just want to come by and watch you work all night."

Santana laughed lightly. "What's so hard to believe? I get to sit in my nice, cozy office and order people around. Y'know I was born to be boss."

"Can't argue with that." Santana had always possesed an inate leadership ability, and sure it had sometimes been conveyed through physical violence and threats but the fact of the matter was, she had good ideas and the will to lead. Quinn had no problem envisioning her staff as a group of loyal, hardworking people that respected her. And also carried a healthy dose of fear towards her.

"Seriously though, you and Rachel should come by one night. I'll set you up VIP style. If it's a slow enough night, mabye me and Britt will be able to hang with you for a bit."

A warmth spread through her chest at the invitation, so easy and casual, as if issuing it was a completely natural thing. It gave her a sense of hope that she would be able to fit herself back into her friends' lives, even after all this time.

She had to clear her throat before she could respond. "That would be nice," she said softly, unable to keep her voice steady on her words. "I'd like that."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, the length of it letting her know that Santana had picked up on the emotion in her voice and making her feel a bit nervous about how the other woman would respond. The two of them had never done particularly well with overt displays. Unless they involved slapping or yelling.

"Whenever you want," Santana said finally. "Just give me a heads up. Anyway, about tomorrow. I know a great little place, I'll text you directions tomorrow. Sound good?"

"Sounds good."

"A'right. I'm a let you go. Britt and I are gonna-"

"San-" She cut her off before she could go into any great detail.

"Not that. Pervert. Jeez."

Quinn felt her cheeks heat up in a blush and she tried to ignore Santana's laughter.

"We're heading out to dinner with some friends. We have to go get ready. Get your mind out of the gutter, there Q. I know that Britt and I are both smokin'. And that you'd love to get all up on this again but-"

"I thought you had to go? Weren't you just about to hang up?"

Santana chuckled softly. "Yeah. I was. I'll text you tomorrow. Love you, loser."

"Love you too."

Laughing soflty to herself, Quinn disconnected the call and tucked her phone back into her pocket.

"Blushing. Grinning. I love you's. Should I be worried?" Rachel sidled up to her and looped an arm through hers. Though her tone was joking, there was a hint of something, an uncertainty, an uneasiness, that tugged at Quinn's heart. After everything they'd been through that morning, she hated the thought of making Rachel feel anything close to what she'd felt earlier.

"That was Santana. She suggested that we get coffee tomorrow."

"That's nice," she said softly. "I'm glad that you two are reconnecting," she added, giving Quinn's arm a little squeeze before using it to tug her in the direction of the stage door.

"Yeah. Me too." It felt nice to have Rachel's circle of friends, her old circle of friends, opening up to her.

As they headed inside she filled Rachel in on Santana's invitation to them for a night out and as expected, the other woman readily agreed that it was a good one. By the time they made it to Rachel's dressing room door they had a tentative plan to go out Friday night.

There was something momentous about this moment, Quinn mused to herself as she took note of the plaquard announcing Rachel's name on the door. She was standing outside the dressing room of Broadway actress, Rachel Berry. Her former high-school teamate and friend. She actually found herself holding her breath as Rachel turned the handle and swung the door inward.

She let it out in a long, slow exhale as she stepped inside behind Rachel and took a quick survey of the room. It was small and square, with few adornishments. There was a long, low couch along one wall and a vanity table with a lighted mirror on the other. A small oval coffee table strewn filled up most of the floor space between the two. The walls were a creamy off-white and the rug was a pale grey. All in all there was nothing specatular or even particularly noteworthy about the room and yet the few touches of inhabitation made it feel comfortably and homey. There was an afghan draped along the back of the couch, hastily folded and slipping down the front onto the cusions at one end. A book lay open across one arm of the couch and a handful of magazines were strewn across the coffee table. There were poster sized movie-stills and playbills on the walls and the scent of vanilla permeated the air.

It was the collage of photos tucked along the edges of the mirror that caught her eye the most though. She gravitated towards it, her gaze traveling over the pictures. There were a handful of unfamiliar faces, friends and castmates she assumed. Then a few of Rachel's fathers. A couple of various spots throughout the city, including the facade of this theatre. There was one of Santana and Brittany. And another of Santana, Brittany and Rachel. The sight of the three of grinning at the camera, arms around each other, bodies oriented towards each other made her smile though it was bittersweet. Their closeness was evident and it was both endearing and a little painful to see. She knew that feeling this way was her own fault however. If she was feeling left out it was because she had done it to herself.

Blinking away the sting of moisture she turned her gaze to the next photo and felt her lips curve up, almost automatically in a smile when she noticed it was an old New Directions photo. She vaguely remembered posing for it back in the early days of the club and she had to shake her head just a little at the image in front of her. The football players were grouped together on one side, clad in their letterman jackets, hands shoved into pockets or behind their backs, standing stiffly. Beside them were Brittany, Quinn and Santana, all three in their Cheerio's uniforms, arms crossed, staring somewhat definatly at the camera. Next came the rest of the glee kids, Kurt in his odd mix of haute couture and homemade fashions, Mercedes in neon and bling. Tina in all her goth glory, hiding behind a curtain of hair rather than facing the camera. Artie in saddle shoes and crooked glasses and finally Rachel in an owl print sweater and an impossibly short plaid skirt.

They all looked so young. So lost. Those had been hard years and yet, looking back on them Quinn couldn't help but feel a vague nostalgia.

The picture below however, had the nostalgia hitting her full force even as a full-fledged grin crossed her lips. It was another one of New Directions, this one taken after Nationals, senior year. They were all still in their performance clothes. This photo was centered around the large trophy that they'd won, it was on the floor with all of them grouped around it. Sam, Joe and Rory knelt on the floor on one side of it, arms around each others shoulders, grinning like mad. Artie in his wheelchair was on the other, with Sugar hanging over one shoulder while Brittany sat on his lap, one arm looped around his neck and one extended upwards to grip the hand of Santana, who stood behind her, hugging Mercedes with her free arm, her head thrown back in laughter. To Santana's left was Puck and Kurt, arms around each others shoulders, grins on their faces. To her right was Finn, with Tina tucked into his side and Mike leaning over her shoulder. Beside Mike stood Rachel and Quinn, arms around each other's waists, beaming at the camera. The lines of social status and hierarchy not merely blurred but non-existant.

They'd come so far and Quinn was proud of them for that.

Her musings were cut short however as her eyes drifted to the next photo and she felt her breath catch in her throat.

"Quinn?"

Rachel's hand was at the small of her back, a light, gentle pressure that she was sure was supposed to be comforting but Quinn felt numb to the other woman's touch.

"Quinn? Are you okay? What..." Rachel trailed off as her gaze followed Quinn's and her eyes found what held her attention captive. "Oh. Quinn. I'm sorry. I'll-"

"No. Don't." Quinn's voice was hollow and her actions were wooden but she managed to force the words past her lips and get an arm around Rachel's wrist, halting her movements as she stepped towards the mirror. Rachel stilled at her side and was silent for a long moment.

"Do you see her often?" The question was painful to ask but honestly, she didn't know which would be worse, knowing or not.

"A few times a year." Rachel's voice was so low that she had to strain to hear it. "My birthday. Christmas. Shelby's birthday...her birthday. Uh...she's come to a few of my opening nights. I'm sorry, Quinn-"

"You don't have to apologize. Shelby's your mom. She's your...your sister. If you want her in your life, you have every right."

"Let's sit down," Rachel said as she began gently tugging her across the room towards the couch. When the backs of her knees hit the edge she let herself be guided down onto the cushions. From there the picture was just a blur of color and shapes. She wasn't sure if that was better or worse.

Rachel settled next to her and ran a soothing hand up and down her arm. "Do you...I mean are you..." Rachel trailed off and then started again only to let the sentence fall away. "I must admit, I really don't know what to say right now. I don't know how to make you feel better. I don't want to make you feel worse."

"You're doing fine," Quinn murmured, reaching out and laying a hand over the one on her arm, halting it's movements. Rachel turned her palm upwards and laced their fingers together and immediately, Quinn began to feel better, a bit more anchored, more settled.

"Shelby sends me a picture and a letter every year on Beth's birthday."

How she loathes and dreads that week or so leading up to Beth's birthday. She knows that particular piece of mail is coming, but she never knows exactly when. Every time she opens her mailbox, her heart beats a staccato in her chest, her lungs seize and she feels like she's going to pass out as she pulls out each handful of envelops. She lives in a constant state of fear that today will be the day the letter comes and experience an equal rush of dissapointment every day that it's not there.

When it finally does arrive, she has to steel herself to open it, has to build up her resolve, sometimes it takes days at a time and when she finally does open it, she pours over that school photo, drinking in every detail of Beth's features, cataloguing the changes from one year to the next before tucking into a small wicker chest that she stores on the top shelf of her closet. She reads and re-reads the letter for days, heart aching in the best of ways over school accomplishments and athletic achievements.

Her daughther is growing up to be such a lovely young woman, fascinated by nature and science, excelling at soccer and dance, well liked by her peers, studious in her learning. Quinn is honoured to know her. Even if she really doesn't know her at all.

"But you don't see her?"

"No."

"Oh." Rachel fell silent, staring down at their joined hands. "Does it...does it bother you that I do?"

Quinn's first instinct was to brush the question aside, to pretend that everything was fine and this wasn't an issue. But she felt that she owed it to Rachel to be honest about this. To, for once, actually take the time to examine her feelings and be up front about things.

"I'm not upset by it," she said slowly, trying to get a handle on the maelstrom of emotions coursing throug her. "I mean, I'm not mad about it or anything but...it does sting a little knowing that you're a part of her life while I'm not able to be."

"You could be."

Quinn shook her head, disputing Rachel's words before she'd even finished speaking them. "No. Not right now, at least. Giving Beth up was the hardest thing I've ever done and I struggle with it. Every day. But I don't regret doing it, not for a moment. I'm not...I'm not good for her. At least, not yet."

She averted her gaze to avoid the wide-eyed, stricken look that Rachel was giving her.

"It's taken me a long time to come to terms with the choices I made when I was fifteen, Rach. I was a mess for a long time. And I'm getting better. I think I'm almost there. And when I make it, I hope that Beth will be old enough for me to explain things to and build a relationship with. Until then, both Shelby and I agree that it's best for Beth to know that her biological mother loves her very much but too young, too ill equipped to take care of her."

She turned pleading eyes to Rachel, willing her to understand. After a long moment Rachel smiled softly and nodded. The hand that was linked with Quinn's squeezed gently, the other came up to cup her face, fingers stroking the skin of her cheek lightly before she leaned their foreheads togethether. Her eyes captured and held Quinn's gaze.

"I'm so very much in awe of you, Quinn Fabray," she whispered, her breath ghosting against Quinn's lips with each word. "You have grown up to be such an amazing woman. I always knew that you could be so much more than the pretty blond cheerleader and you proved me right."

Quinn's vision blurred as tears filled her eyes and she pressed her lids closed, trying to halt their fall.

"I think you're closer than you know. And when that day comes, I think that Beth is going to be feel just as honoured to know you as I am."

Quinn's heart swelled with emotions that she couldn't name. "Rach." Her voice came out husky and raw as she stuttered over the other woman's name. She felt so much and couldn't conjure words for any of it.

At a loss for anything to say she tipped her head forward and pressed her lips against Rachel's, kissing her feverently and hoping to convey everything she was feeling.

Rachel returned the kiss with equal fervor, but without escalating things until, eventually, breathless and spent, Quinn pulled back.

"I know," Rachel whispered against her lips as Quinn extracted her hand from Rachel's grip and wrapped her arms tightly around the other woman.

Rachel wrapped her arms around Quinn as well, a firm, tender embrace that Quinn melted into, her head resting against Rachel's shoulder. She felt some of the tension leave her body as slowly, the pace of her heartbeat decreased and the emotions swirling within her stilled.

A moment later a jaw-cracking yawn had her blushing as Rachel chuckled softly.

"Sorry," she muttered, feeling her cheeks heat in a faint blush.

"That's not a commentary on the company is it?"

"No. Of course not."

"Hey, relax. I'm just teasing." Rachel rubbed a few soothing circles down her back. "It's been a long, emotional day Why don't you lie down and take a rest?"

Rachel was already easing Quinn onto her back on the couch without waiting for a response but Quinn resisted her efforts.

"I don't want to miss your play," she protested, knowing that if she laid down on the couch she'd fall asleep.

"I'll set the alarm on my cell phone." Rachel pushed her gently down against the cushions, holding her in place by her shoulders until it became evident she wasn't going to sit up then released her grip to fish her cell phone out of her purse. "I have about twenty minutes before I have to get ready," she said as she keyed a couple of buttons and then set the phone on the coffee table beside them. "And if you sleep through it, I promise I'll wake you up before I go out there okay?"

Quinn nodded, already feeling tendrils of sleep slipping over her as her body relaxed into the soft cushions beneath her. She was only vaguely aware of Rachel shifted on the couch beside her and the soft warmth of her body settling in along side her but it was just what she needed to let go and fall into peaceful slumber.