IX
It's as awkward as one imagines it would be.
Quinn's left hand curls tightly into the fabric of Rachel's dress as Denny looks between them, trying to figure out just what is going on.
Denny blinks once, twice, and then asks the predicted question: "Do you all know one another?"
"One could say that," Quinn says, suddenly tense; "but I'd wager we don't know each other at all, do we, Jules?"
Rachel shifts uncomfortably, and Julia Fairchild just stands there, staring at them. Rachel thinks she registers disbelief in Julia's eyes and, possibly, a hint of fear.
How dare she show her face in New York?
How dare she show her face at all?
Denny still looks confused. "So, you do know each other?"
Quinn clears her throat, and then looks at Denny. "Do you remember that roommate we told you about?" She waits for Denny's nod. "You're looking at her."
Denny's eyes dart to Julia. "You're the roommate?"
That seems to snap Julia to attention, and her dark hair bounces slightly as she turns to her aunt. "What?"
Denny looks confused. "I don't - I don't understand."
Quinn laughs humourlessly. "That's okay, Denny," she says. "You're not the only one."
Rachel shifts even closer to Quinn, half in an attempt to offer her comfort, and the other half in an attempt to keep herself from lashing out.
Julia catches the movement and, as if she's just remembering Denny's introduction, her eyes grow wide. "You can't be serious," she suddenly says, sounding accusatory. "You're actually together?" Her gaze falls on Quinn, harsh in the room's dim light. "You swore to me six ways to Sunday nothing was going on," she hisses and, okay, that's definitely an accusation.
It's bound to turn ugly.
Especially when Quinn turns incredulous eyes on Julia. "And, when we were together, that was true," Quinn says, and it's the calmness in her voice that makes them all aware that Quinn is serious. Even though Denny doesn't know her that well, she feels a spike of fear at what may or may not happen.
But, Quinn surprises them all.
With a small smile cast at Denny, she says, "Excuse us," and then drags Rachel away from the sight of her ex-girlfriend. She's trembling, Rachel can feel, so she goes willingly, even though she has half a mind to get her phone out and call in the 'Fucking-Mess-Up-Julia-Fairchild' team of Santana and Kurt - and, sometimes, Blaine… when he's drunk.
Rachel knows they would be here in a heartbeat, but Quinn is already working very hard at not causing a scene.
"Talk to me," Quinn says. "Please."
Rachel clears her throat, facing Quinn fully and stepping as close to her as possible without actually touching her. She's unsure how Quinn will react to that. "Frankie asked out Jasmine," she says. "He thought she liked Alec."
"Idiot."
"That's what I said," she says, smiling slightly. "Well, really, I told him boys were stupid, but that's not important."
"One of the many reasons I prefer the fairer sex," Quinn quips, her eyes focused on Rachel's face.
Rachel rolls her eyes, absently reaching out to link the fingers of her right hand with Quinn's left. "He was pretty excited when she said yes, and he's been texting me all day about where he should take her."
"What did you tell him?"
"Well, he was a little limited with the short notice," she explains. "They're going out tonight, right now, because he just didn't want to wait."
"Cute."
"They can be, sometimes."
"Still stupid."
"Complete idiots."
"You're definitely onto something with this fairer sex thing."
Quinn laughs lightly, her arms lifting to drape over Rachel's shoulders. She lets out a tired sigh, resolutely keeping her eyes trained on Rachel.
"Are you okay?" Rachel risks asking.
"No," Quinn admits. She's definitely not okay, but she doesn't really know what she's feeling, either. "I've - I've imagined what it would be like to see her again many, many times. I had all these scenarios planned out, you know? But - "
Rachel's arms wrap around Quinn's slim waist, and she hugs her close. "It's okay," she whispers. "You're okay, I promise. I'm right here, and the two of us are going to get through this evening and - " she stops when she feels Quinn's tense. Her gaze lifts. "Unless… Quinn, honey, do you want to leave?"
Quinn doesn't relax. "What would happen if I said yes?"
Rachel blinks, her resolve shifting. Right now, Quinn is the most important thing. "While I would prefer to stay and see out this evening, we would make an excuse to Denny and Tom, thank them and apologise, and then go to your place and, maybe get drunk and pig out on ice cream and/or greasy pizza - well, you would, obviously. Elliot would kill me if I did such a thing."
Quinn stares at her for the longest time, and Rachel wonders if she's said something wrong. Then, without warning, Quinn leans forward and presses the lightest, chastest kiss to her lips, and then wraps her in a tight hug.
Rachel is frozen in place.
"I love you, Rachel," Quinn whispers, the words falling from her lips in heavy confession.
Rachel's breath catches, and her eyes slip shut. "I - I love you, too, Quinn," she says, and she wonders if she means it the same way Quinn does or not.
Quinn releases a shuddering breath, and then pulls back to meet Rachel's gaze. "This evening is important to you, and I made a promise. We're going to get through it, and I'm going to be the best girlfriend imaginable, and then we can go to my place and let me self-destruct."
Rachel smiles sadly, and then reaches up to kiss her cheek. "Are you sure?" she asks unnecessarily, because Quinn wouldn't have said anything if she wasn't.
"Rachel Berry, you should know by now that I would do anything for you." She presses a kiss to Rachel's forehead. "Now, come on, I believe we have people to charm."
And, with that, Rachel feels Quinn's hand slip into hers and then she starts to lead her towards the large dining room where they're starting to sit for dinner to be served.
Rachel, admittedly, feels a little lost, sufficiently thrown by Quinn's affection and declaration.
But then she spots Julia, whose eyes are watching them critically, and Rachel wonders, once again, just how much of Quinn's actions are real or not.
It's odd, Rachel thinks, that she would ever find herself in this position.
It's almost unheard of.
And yet, here she is, with Quinn's hand resting lightly on her thigh, Quinn's ex-girlfriend staring daggers at her, Denny sending her apologetic looks and a table full of people who could make or break her career conversing all around her.
Odd, indeed.
Quinn is locked in conversation with Thomas, who is sitting on her left side, but she constantly turns back to Rachel to share a smile or press a kiss to her head. Sometimes, she just nuzzles her cheek, but it's enough for Rachel to know Quinn hasn't forgotten about her.
Rachel, meanwhile, is talking to a woman by the name of Nicole Doucet, whose apparent passion in life is interior design. Her husband, Edwin - or, Ed - is the one actually involved in Broadway, and Nicole just comes to these things for the free food. She's young, probably late twenties, and Ed is… older.
Rachel is trying not to focus on just how much older.
"You and your girlfriend are really cute," Nicole says, sighing dreamily after Quinn has just whispered the question are you okay? into Rachel's ear. "How long have you been together?"
Rachel is all too aware of Julia's eyes still on her and, while she wants nothing more than to rub this all in the woman's face, she knows that no good will come of it. "We're coming up on three months," Rachel says quietly; "but we've been friends for years."
Nicole smiles widely. "That's romantic," she says. "Just couldn't hold back any longer, huh?"
"Something like that."
Nicole glances over at her husband, who's talking to Tom and another man named Trevor Wilson. "It - it wasn't like that with me and Ed," she explains, also dropping her voice. "Ours was a whirlwind romance, a lot of fancy things and an endless number of bad decisions."
Rachel isn't sure what to say in response.
"But, we're here now, and I do love him, but - "
Rachel feels Quinn's grip on her thigh tighten, and she suddenly knows what Nicole means. Ed hasn't looked at her once, since they took their seats, and Quinn hasn't really stopped.
"How long have you been married?" Rachel asks the woman, whose lips have turned downwards slightly.
"Six years, next month."
"Wow."
Nicole rolls her eyes. "I know," she says; "I was a little lost after I graduated from college."
Rachel can sympathise with that. She remembers being in an outright panic for two months straight before she landed her first role post-graduation. "You said you like interior design? Is that what you studied?"
"Actually, no," Nicole says, shifting slightly to face Rachel at a better angle. "I actually studied Architecture."
Rachel's eyes widen.
"I know," Nicole says, sighing. "I don't look it, do I?"
"It's not that," Rachel immediately says, and then cringes. "Okay, it's a little bit that, but it's more to do with Architecture itself. Did you not want to become an architect?"
She frowns. "Why else would I have studied it?"
Rachel risks a look at Quinn, who's laughing at something Thomas is saying. She feels her heart flutter at the sight and, God, how did she end up so lucky as to know her? "I don't know," Rachel says, turning back to face Nicole. "A lot of reasons. Familial pressures, misguidance. Did you at least enjoy it?"
"It was torture."
Rachel giggles.
"I got very little sleep, and I was anxious all the time," Nicole explains. "I think that's why I went a little off the rails when I finally graduated. The… freedom… was like a drug. I was waiting on job interviews, and then I got caught up in this old fart over here, and now I'm in a lifelong commitment."
Rachel blinks. "Do you have any children?"
"No," Nicole says; "but he does. They're not too fond of me."
Rachel swallows. "The age gap?"
"His youngest son is my age," she admits, puffing out her cheeks. "It's very awkward."
"I can only imagine."
"Please, don't," she says with a laugh, carefully sipping at her wine. "I don't want you to have to imagine the horrors of our family get togethers. I don't even want to think about how much worse it'll be if we have children."
"If?" Rachel's all too aware that she's prying, but there's a part of her that just knows this Nicole woman needs someone to talk to. And, Rachel Berry is a fantastic listener.
Nicole hesitates, and Rachel realises it's because Quinn is leaning in to kiss her cheek. Rachel's smile is automatic, and she flashes happy eyes at her blonde.
"You okay?" Quinn whispers.
Rachel nods. "You?"
Quinn just smiles, and then asks in wonder, "Did you know Thomas actually worked with Arthur Miller?"
Rachel reaches up to touch her cheek. "You're beautiful."
Quinn's features pinch in confusion, but she doesn't say anything as they break apart once more. Rachel can feel Julia's eyes on her as she turns back to Nicole, who looks particularly thoughtful.
"Sorry about that," Rachel says, a little sheepishly.
"It's okay," Nicole says. "It's - it's like she misses you, even though she's sitting right beside you."
Rachel's never heard it described that way, and her heart skips a beat at the accuracy of the statement - at least when it pertains to her.
Rachel leans in slightly, dropping the volume of her voice. "My parents have a twelve year age gap," she says, almost conversationally. "It's totally weird when you stop to think that my one father was a teenager when the other one was learning to walk."
Nicole looks amused.
"But… that all means nothing to me," Rachel says, sounding somber. "They're just my dads, you know? I've never cared about their ages or their orientation or their racially and religiously mixed marriage. As their kid, all I care about is that they're there for me and they love me and love each other. All that other stuff means nothing."
Nicole sighs, clearly knowing what Rachel is trying to tell her. "Maybe I don't want children," she offers, but she doesn't sound sure at all. "Maybe I like my life the way it is."
"Do you?"
Nicole looks helpless, and Rachel bites her bottom lip, just waiting. "This - this is really heavy conversation for a dinner party."
Rachel shrugs. "It's not my fault the dessert is taking so long to be served."
Nicole laughs, and it's such a relief to Rachel.
Rachel takes a sip of her wine, and her eyes meet Julia's over the glass. The woman's eyes are hard, and there's rage brewing behind her dark pupils.
Well, join the club, Fairchild.
Quinn breaks from her conversation with Thomas and leans into Rachel, resting her forehead against the brunette's temple.
"How does it feel to know Tom and Denny made sure to cater for you, oh ye veganette?"
Rachel giggles softly. "Quinn, I'm not the only vegan here."
"But, you are the more beautiful one."
Rachel blinks owlishly, and then turns her head to kiss Quinn's cheek, though her aim is off and she ends up with lips pressed against the corner of Quinn's mouth.
A glass topples over somewhere, and both of them look up to see Julia hastily using her napkin to mop up her spilled wine. Quinn lets out a tiny snort of amusement, and Rachel is relieved that she's finding some semblance of humour in the entire situation.
Rachel's under no illusion that this isn't all going to affect Quinn in some way, and she can only hope the blonde isn't going to go on some kind of binge the way she did when she and Julia first broke up.
And, binge she really, really did.
Booze, women, series, exercise… all of the things.
Quinn was a wreck, and Rachel found herself hating Julia Fairchild more and more with every day that passed, and Quinn wasn't able to bring herself out of it.
The women were together for nearly two years, throughout Quinn's junior and senior year of college, and even made plans to move to New York together, so Quinn could pursue her MFA and Julia could… do something else.
Rachel didn't really pay attention at the time.
Or, ever.
And, then, just a few weeks after Quinn graduated top of her class and they were set to leave for New York, their apartment already leased and their new lives waiting for them; Julia called it quits.
To this day, nobody really knows why.
Santana's always wanted to… beat it out of her, which makes Rachel chuckle to herself.
Quinn glances at her. "What are you smiling at?"
"Just wondering what Santana would say in this situation," she murmurs, and Quinn's grin splits her face. Her laugh is breathy, washing over the skin of Rachel's delicate cheek.
"Something funny?"
Quinn freezes in her seat, and Rachel's head whips to face Julia, who is looking at the pair of them with a sour look on her face.
Quinn ignores her, which prompts everyone else to. It helps that dessert is finally served, and Julia's spillage is easily forgotten.
Quinn shifts in her seat, almost leaning against Rachel as she digs into her lemon cheesecake. Rachel has the vegan equivalent, and both of them are blissfully silent. It's something about them: the silence can be comfortable.
"Can I try some?" Quinn asks after a moment, her eyes on Rachel's dessert. "I've always been curious to know if it actually tastes different."
Rachel regards her carefully. "Fabray, this better not be some ploy to get an extra bite of dessert," she warns playfully, and Quinn just smiles innocently. "We can't exactly swap, now can we?"
"I'll make it up to you later," Quinn practically purrs, and Rachel's mouth goes dry. "Just one bite, Rach."
Rachel audibly swallows, and then fixes a piece of vegan cheesecake onto her fork. She doesn't think about it too much as she lifts the fork to Quinn's mouth.
To her credit, Quinn doesn't hesitate. It's not as if it's the first time Rachel has ever fed her. It's just that this is the first time it's felt so… intimate. Their eyes remained locked as Quinn leans forward and wraps her lips around Rachel's fork.
"Oh, God," Rachel breathes out, feeling her heart rate rise dangerously when Quinn's teeth scrape along the metal of her fork.
Neither of them can look away, and it takes a loud throat-clearing from across the table to break the charged moment.
Quinn smiles shakily as she turns away, chewing thoughtfully.
Rachel forces herself to focus on her breathing. It wouldn't do to hyperventilate in front of all these people.
"It doesn't taste that different," Quinn finally declares. "Although, it does feel different."
"That's your guilty conscience," Rachel manages to say, recovering. "It knows you're consuming would-be baby chickens."
Quinn smiles despite herself. "I'm never going to win with you, am I?"
Rachel beams at her. "Would you even want to?"
"And miss out on that smile, never," Quinn tells her truthfully.
"God, you two are adorable," Nicole suddenly says, and both women look at her, grinning through their fierce blushes.
"That's one way to describe it," Julia comments.
Quinn glares at her, and it looks like it takes all her willpower not to snap back with a comment of her own. She resists for Rachel, and the brunette appreciates it more than she'll ever be able to convey.
But, Nicole must pick up on the animosity, because she looks at Julia with curious, cautious eyes. "And, how would you describe it?"
Before Julia can say whatever she plans to, Denny breaks into the moment. "Is everyone enjoying the dessert?" she asks, looking slightly uncomfortable now that Julia's silent glares have become audible barbs. "Lemon cheesecake is Tom's favourite."
"She says that," Tom muses; "but it's really her favourite." He winks. "She just doesn't want anyone to know she indulges."
Denny swats at his arm as the table collectively chuckles.
Rachel uses the opportunity to regard Quinn carefully. "You okay?" she asks softly, practically whispering.
Quinn doesn't nod, because that would be a lie. She's definitely not okay.
"Quinn?"
"I'm here," Quinn whispers.
"We can go," Rachel offers. "We can leave right now."
Quinn clenches her jaw. "She's trying to get a reaction out of me," she forces out. "Why?"
Rachel doesn't have a suitable - or appropriate - response for her. So, she goes with, "Because she's a bitch," and Quinn laughs this glorious, gorgeous laugh that makes Rachel's heart sing.
"Seriously, what is so funny?"
Quinn's left hand closes into a tight fist as everyone at the table looks at Julia. The silence is awkward and stilted, and neither Rachel nor Quinn says a word.
Nicole does, though. "Is there a problem here?" she asks pointedly.
Julia makes to reply, but Denny cuts in again, shooting a pointed look at her niece. "Anybody for more wine?"
"No, no," Nicole says, clearly irritated; "I want to know what the problem is, because it's obvious there is one, and I don't think I like what you're implying about my new friend here."
Julia makes to reply, but Denny cuts in.
"That's enough," she says, and the finality of her tone renders the room silent. "Julia, a word?"
Like a petulant child, Julia scowls, but she eventually follows her aunt out of the room, leaving Tom to get the room settled and talking again.
Quinn abandons her dessert to wrap an arm around Rachel's shoulders and draw her into a loose embrace. She kisses the side of the brunette's head and lets her lips linger, absently breathing her in.
"I'm sorry," Quinn murmurs.
"It's not your fault," Rachel whispers back, turning her head and kissing the underside of Quinn's chin. "It's not."
Quinn smiles sadly. "You're doing well," she says. "Nicole seems to like you."
"Thomas absolutely adores you."
"He says he wants to collaborate."
Rachel grins at her. "It seems I'm not the only one networking tonight."
"Who knew that knowing Rachel Berry would be so fruitful?"
"I could have told you that."
Quinn laughs softly, pulling back to look at her. "This night feels surreal."
"It really does," Rachel agrees. "Good surreal?"
"Ask me again tomorrow."
If Rachel thinks they're going to be able to escape the evening without having to deal with Julia again, then she's wrong. Rachel allows herself to read far too much into the fact that Julia doesn't return to the table, and she assumes that Denny asked the dark-haired woman to leave.
She did, which is what Denny explains to them when they decide it's probably time for them to leave. The party is dying down, and Quinn mentions that it's best to leave while people are still interested, and they haven't overstayed.
Quinn times it perfectly. They leave just before Ed and Nicole, but just after Thomas. It gives them a window of ten minutes to say their farewells, and then have Denny walk them out.
Quinn helps Rachel with her coat, before Rachel does the same, and Denny's soft expression is almost too heartbreaking for Rachel to handle.
"I feel as if I should apologise for Julia's behaviour," Denny starts.
"It's not necessary," Quinn assures her. "Our history should not have had any bearing on tonight, and I'm sorry that wasn't the case."
Denny just hugs her, and then whispers to Rachel, "you better hold onto this one."
The guilt Rachel feels is almost paralysing, because she and Quinn are about to break up.
Still, she says, "I'm going to try."
Denny smiles. "Don't let Julia mess with you guys."
And, okay, Denny has just given them a good enough excuse possibly to call it quits. The untimely arrival of Quinn's ex could flare up Rachel's insecurities, and the two of them could decide that a relationship won't work if Rachel can't trust Quinn, even if she has reason to be apprehensive.
It's a flimsy excuse at best, but it could work.
"We'll see you on Monday," Denny tells Rachel, and then turns back to Quinn. "And, you, don't be a stranger."
Quinn just smiles. "Thank you for having us," she says. "It truly was a lovely evening." Ever the charmer, that Quinn Fabray.
Rachel slips her hand into Quinn's, and then the two of them leave the apartment. In the elevator, Rachel can almost feel Quinn's grip on her own control slipping, so she just squeezes her hand tightly, offering whatever comfort and support she can.
They bid goodnight to Bradley, and then step onto the sidewalk, the crisp air providing some brief comfort. Rachel shivers once, and Quinn leans into her side.
"Are we going back to your place?" Rachel finds herself asking, because she did promise Quinn alcohol and ice cream and pizza.
But, before Quinn can respond, there's another voice, and Rachel actually feels cold all over the second Julia's voice hits her ears.
"Well, isn't that just adorable?"
Quinn turns them just in time to see Julia push off the wall of Tom and Denny's building and make her way towards them.
Rachel's grip on Quinn tightens, and she does all she can to hold onto her rage. Is this woman insane? Was she really waiting for them?
For the hundredth time, Rachel allows herself to wonder just what Quinn was thinking when she willingly dated this woman for almost two years. Quinn cites insanity, and Santana teases her about her obsession with hot brunettes with legs to die for.
Now that Rachel thinks about it, Santana always used to shoot her a salacious look whenever she alluded to Quinn's preferences.
But, that's a thought for another time.
Right now, though, they're faced with a pissed-off Julia, who looks particularly scorned for someone who was actually the 'dumper.'
The mere fact that she has the audacity to feel such a thing rubs Rachel the wrong way, and the fact that Quinn is holding onto her is the only reason she's not marching right up to Julia's stupid face and giving her a piece of her mind - or a piece of her fist.
"Is this for real?" Julia asks, scoffing as she eyes them, as if there's no possible way Quinn and Rachel could be together this way.
Quinn tenses at the implication, and Rachel makes the decision for the both of them.
"Of course, it is," Rachel says, glaring at her. "Why wouldn't it be?"
Julia doesn't bat an eyelid. "Because you're not gay," she says to Rachel, and then looks at Quinn. "And you promised me."
Quinn snorts. "I'm pretty sure you promised me a lot of things, too," she says. "And, now, look where we are."
"Where are we, Quinn?" she asks. "What are you even doing here?"
Quinn just glares at her. "What are you even doing in New York?" she asks. "It was my understanding that you would never step foot in this God forsaken city?"
Julia visibly straightens. "It seems I'm not the only one who's capable of changing her mind," she says, pointedly glaring at Rachel.
Quinn shifts closer to Rachel, and Rachel is immediately grateful for it. Right now, it doesn't matter that their relationship isn't real. Julia doesn't get to do this to Quinn.
Not again.
"What do you want, Julia?" Quinn asks tiredly; "because you obviously want something. It's what you're good at, isn't it? Just taking and taking."
Julia's eyes narrow. "I live in New York now," she says carefully, knowing she's about to get a reaction from Quinn.
Quinn sucks in a sharp breath, and something within her twists painfully. The knowledge that she would probably not have to see Julia in this city they eventually decided on is one of the only reasons she's been able to adjust as well as she has, and the mere fact that Julia's come here after deciding Quinn isn't what she wants anymore throws her completely.
"Why?" Quinn asks. "Why?"
"My job brought me here," Julia explains.
Quinn blinks. "Your job," she echoes. "You came to New York for your job." But not your relationship, is left unsaid. "How long?" she questions.
"A few weeks."
Quinn just stares at her, unsure what she's supposed to feel in this moment. She wants to ask if Julia was even going to look her up or anything, or just wait for a moment like this to run into her.
Quinn doesn't even know if she would have wanted to be found by the woman who broke her heart for reasons she still doesn't know. If Julia didn't want to come to New York, the two of them could have worked something out. Columbia wasn't the only MFA program she got into, and Julia wasn't even working at the time.
Julia steps forward at Quinn's silence. "I was going to call you," she says, her voice low. "I just - I wasn't sure if you'd even want me to." She makes to reach out for Quinn, but the blonde steps back, out of reach. "I guess that answers that question," Julia murmurs. She glances at Rachel. "Not that you missed me or anything, huh?"
Quinn sets her jaw. "You don't get to say that to me," she says. "You left me, and I moved on."
"But, to her?" Julia says, a slight whine slipping into her tone of voice. "I mean, how many days did she even wait to make a move?" she asks. "I mean, I always suspected she had a thing for you, but you have to agree this is a little - "
"Stop," Quinn interrupts. "Just, stop. You have no idea what you're talking about."
"Oh, I think I do," Julia argues. "How long did you even wait?" she asks Rachel.
Quinn answers, without actually answering. "That's none of your business," she says. "Nothing about my life since you said 'I'm not coming with you,' is your business, so you can just stop. All of this." She takes a long, deep breath. "I would say it's good to see you, but it's really not. I would think you would have handled yourself better, and I hope you've apologised to Denny, but we don't have to stand here and take your accusations just because you seem to be… dissatisfied with what you've found all these months later."
With that, Quinn makes to turn and walk away, but Julia reaches out to grab hold of her free hand, effectively stopping her movement.
"Wait," Julia says. "I just - you caught me by surprise, that's all. I do want to catch up. I was going to call you eventually, I assure you, but I've never really known what to say. I mean, you have to admit this is a little weird, right? This is the last thing I was expecting tonight, because it's never once crossed my mind that you two would actually end up together."
She's not alone there.
Quinn doesn't react for a moment, and then she very calmly says, "Let go of me."
Julia immediately drops her hand. "Oh."
Quinn straightens. "I'm not doing this with you," she says. "Until you can actually apologise without an excuse or without putting either me or Rachel down, we're never doing this." There's a finality to her tone, but Julia finds herself still wanting to argue.
Thankfully, that's the moment Ed and Nicole come out of the building, Nicole's eyes immediately narrowing at the sight she's presented with.
"Everything okay here?" she asks, her gaze mainly on a very silent Rachel.
"Everything's fine," Julia forces out.
Rachel lifts her head. "We're fine," she says. "Quinn and I were just leaving, weren't we?"
"We were," Quinn agrees, and they're both happy to walk with Ed and Nicole until the end of the block where Ed hails the pair of women a cab.
Nicole uses the opportunity to hand Rachel her card, and Rachel passes on her own number. "Just in case my therapist doesn't answer the first time," Nicole jokes. "Or, if your home needs a makeover."
Rachel nods gratefully. "Thank you," she says.
"Also, you know, if ever you just want to talk," Nicole offers more quietly. It's doubtful Quinn can hear from where she's standing with Ed. "Something tells me the two of you haven't seen the last of that woman."
Rachel hates that she's probably right.
When they get back to Quinn's apartment, they remove their coats in silence and Rachel hangs them up. Quinn takes off her shoes and heads straight to her bedroom, Rachel following a minute later.
Without a word, Quinn hands her a pair of her own sweatpants and an old Yale sweatshirt, and then she changes into McKinley sweatpants and a fresh t-shirt, before she disappears into the bathroom to remove her makeup.
Rachel isn't sure what to do once she's also changed, after hanging up her dress in Quinn's closet. There are a number of her own clothes in there, and she smiles at the way they just mix in with Quinn's. The blonde hasn't even bothered to keep the items separated, and the mere idea of that fills her with warmth.
Which washes away the second she recalls the situation in which they now find themselves.
So much for their scheduled breakup.
Breathing a sigh, Rachel turns on her heel and leaves the room. She heads to the kitchen to scrummage through Quinn's fridge and cabinets for something the blonde could use to self-soothe.
Hell, even Rachel needs some TLC.
"Find anything?" Quinn asks, startling Rachel as she comes up behind the brunette. Without hesitation, she wraps her arms around Rachel's waist, pressing her front to the shorter woman's back and soaking up her warmth.
Rachel leans back into Quinn, revelling in the strength of the embrace. "I'm pretty sure we can order pizza from somewhere," she offers.
Quinn hums. "Or, we could just open a bottle of wine, and do this."
"This?"
"Exactly this," Quinn confirms, her grip tightening. "Just, this." She buries her face in Rachel's hair, inhaling deeply and then sighing. "Why do you always smell so good?"
Rachel feels herself blush, but she really doesn't have a response to that. "Any preference on the wine?"
"No."
It takes a while for them to get settled on Quinn's couch. Rachel pours their wine, grabs a packet of sweet potato crisps, and then practically sits on Quinn, the blonde's arm wrapping around her waist.
Rachel is tense for all of two minutes, before she feels her body relax and the alcohol take effect.
Quinn puts on the Food Network, but neither woman is watching. Rachel is so focused on the warmth of the body beneath her, and Quinn's attention is split between trying not to panic about Julia and trying not to do something stupid when it comes to Rachel.
Because, Rachel is right here, and she's everything Quinn has ever wanted.
She's right here, and Quinn wants nothing more than just to hold her, kiss her, touch her, make love to her.
It would be so easy. She gets the feeling Rachel might even be willing, and all she would have to do is press her lips to the inviting neck on display and then see where it leads.
Quinn has done this before: found comfort in another woman after the disaster that was her breakup with Julia. She found solace in avoidance and an abundance of pleasure in various forms.
But, those women were strangers.
This is Rachel.
This is actually Rachel, whom she loves in a way that will probably never amount to anything. Maybe, this will be all she gets, and maybe all she has to do is take it.
But, then, Rachel sighs against her and reaches for her wine. She glances over her shoulder at Quinn, and smiles sadly. "We're not breaking up, are we?"
Quinn sighs. "We still can," she says, and she means it. It would be awful to give Julia the satisfaction of thinking that she's responsible for their breakup, but she and Rachel made a decision, and now…
"Do you want to?" Rachel asks.
"No." It's a simple answer, and it's not a lie. "I don't want her to think she's the reason we're ending, and she will. We both know that."
"I don't want that, either," Rachel says, sliding off Quinn's lap, so she can face her properly. "I kind of just want to punch her."
Quinn lets out a small laugh. "You're cute when you get violent."
"Not really what I'm going for, but I'll take it."
Quinn reaches for her wine and downs it. "So, we're not breaking up?" she clarifies.
"No, we're not."
Quinn sighs heavily, feeling the weight of this continued lie settle heavily on her shoulders. "I finally figured out why you all think I'm a Slytherin," she says sadly. "It's because I'm a heartless, selfish, ruthless bitch, isn't it?"
Rachel sighs softly, her right hand moving to play with the tiny hairs at the nape of Quinn's neck. "No, it's not," she says. "It's because you're sarcastic and ambitious. You have a cunning mind, and such a dark and wonderful sense of humour. You're determined and curious, and you like to break the rules. Your holy time is alone time, you absorb caffeine, and you're a perfectionist by nature."
Quinn blinks. "None of those things are explicitly… good," she wearily points out. "And, seriously, did you memorise the traits of a Slytherin or something?"
Rachel crawls back across the couch to get right in Quinn's face. "I need you, and you need me," she says. "We're just going to have to postpone our breakup. It's not a big deal."
Well.
"I'm dealing with morons," Santana says; "absolute, fucking morons."
Despite the insult, Quinn can't help her small smile. She'll never get used to Santana's colourful language. She also finds it doubly amusing that Santana intends to be a doctor.
Her bedside manner is going to be atrocious.
"Santana," Quinn starts. "Believe me when I tell you that we had every intention of breaking up yesterday, but Saturday night proved to be… difficult."
Santana waits, choosing to be patient.
"We kind of ran into, uh, Julia."
It's not what Santana's expecting to hear, and she's glad Quinn waited until she set her drink back on the table, because she does a literal double-take and then says, "What the fuck!" really loudly.
Quinn flushes when several heads turn their way, but Santana doesn't seem to notice. "San," she says.
"No," Santana says, rage brewing in eyes. "Berry fucking promised me she would call the second she laid eyes on that bitch. What the fuck? Why are you telling me only now? Like, fuck. Are you okay? Did she talk to you? What did she say? What happened? Do I need to cut a bitch?"
"San," Quinn repeats. "Just, breathe, okay?"
"Q?"
"I'm fine," she says. "I mean, I think I am. I wasn't, but then Rachel spent all of yesterday with me while you were working in the labs, and I think I'm okay." She sighs. "What I mean is I'm not about to go on some destructive bender," she clarifies. "I have my life and my friends and my job and school, and I'm about to sign the biggest contract of my life. I'm fine."
"Q?"
Quinn drops her gaze. "Jules and I fought about Rachel a lot," she admits. "You know they've never liked each other, but it got worse when I got into Columbia and really started considering it."
Santana waits again, realising that this is something Quinn needs to say.
"I wanted to come to New York to be closer to you guys. I won't deny it. But, she was worried. She's always been worried, I guess, because she was convinced I was in love with Rachel. Which, let's face it, I was. I am." She breathes out slowly, because this is the first time she's actually admitted it out loud. "She made me promise that nothing would ever happen between us; she made me promise I would never try for anything with Rachel, and I did, because there was no way Rachel would even want me.
"Julia seemed satisfied, and I tried not to think too hard about what she was asking of me and what I agreed to. In my mind, I knew it would only get worse, and there would come a day when she would ask me to choose between her and Rachel." Quinn's breathing grows unsteady. "And, then, that day came, and it was the first time I considered actually doing it."
Santana sucks in a sharp breath. "You would have chosen Julia."
"It might have hurt less, in the long run," she says. "I wouldn't have to watch Rachel be with someone like St James, watch her marry him and be happy with him and have children with him and grow old with someone who isn't me."
"It doesn't work like that, Q."
"For once in my life, I just wanted to do something that would protect me, you know?"
Santana definitely gets that. It's one of the reasons she and Brittany are currently not together.
Maybe, in the future, they'll figure out a way to get it right, but not today.
Or tomorrow.
"I couldn't choose," Quinn says. "Julia wanted to give me an ultimatum, I could tell, but then Rachel started talking about how she and Jesse were discussing possibly getting engaged that night we went for drinks at Kirby's, and Julia forgot all about it."
"But…?"
Quinn sips at her water. "I don't know."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean exactly that," Quinn says. "We were fine. She started getting really excited about the move, and we started planning for New York. She found the apartment, which we both know was conspicuously far from yours and Rachel's, but whatever. We had plans, and then we just didn't."
"Something happened," Santana concludes.
"Or, she just changed her mind."
"But, why?"
Quinn shrugs. "Does there have to be a reason?" she questions. "Sometimes, people just change their minds."
"Quinn," Santana says, and her tone is serious. "Maybe some people do, sure, but not Julia Fairchild. She's an insane one, but she's never been stupid, and only stupid people let a good thing like you go."
Quinn levels her with a look that speaks volumes.
"I know," Santana relents. "I'm stupid."
Quinn sighs. "As long as you know."
"There's a reason," Santana says. "There is, and the lack of one has haunted you since she ended it."
Quinn can't even dispute that, but she wants this conversation to be over, so she asks, "How's Brittany?"
"Fuck you, Fabray."
Relationship talk is strictly over.