XVIII

Kurt and Blaine host Christmas dinner.

For an atheist and an agnostic, respectively, it seems almost sacrilegious, but Kurt insists on having them all over and feeding them. He also insists on Quinn bringing very specific dishes to complement whatever he's put on the menu, and so she spends her morning in the kitchen, blasting Christmas music and trying not to feel self-conscious of the way Rachel won't stop staring at her.

It's a thing she does, apparently, and Quinn is still trying to get used to it. A part of her is hoping she never actually does.

They've been doing a lot of talking the past few days. Rachel seems to have an endless mental lists of questions for Quinn, ranging from her favourite song from the Eighties, all the way to whether she would ever consider letting her hair grow out to the lengths it was during the early years of high school. Rachel clearly wants to know everything, making up for all the time they've missed out on by not being these people to each other.

Aside from the talking, they do kiss a lot. Quinn will happily admit to being fascinated by Rachel's mouth, but it's something else entirely to have that very talented mouth against her own and on her skin.

Quinn has thought about it a lot in the past. She's had years, months, weeks and days, her imagination running wild about what it would be like to have all of Rachel's attention on only her, and now she barely knows what to do with herself.

And so she cooks, going a little overboard with the dishes, adding on a few extra vegan ones solely for Rachel, this adorable human being whom she gets to call her girlfriend. How crazy is that? Rachel Berry is her girlfriend.

Rachel asked the question right in the middle Dumbledore's death, forcing Quinn to hit pause, try to slow her heart rate, and give Rachel her full attention. It was honestly the worst scene to choose, but Rachel basically blurted out the words as if she was sitting on them throughout the entire film.

Quinn said yes, obviously, and the past few days have been something of a whirlwind. Rachel didn't even go home until the day before, and that was just to get some fresh clothes and make sure Santana wasn't drowning in something.

But she's back now and she's been unabashedly staring at Quinn since she walked through the door.

Quinn can feel the thrill of it all just simmering beneath the surface of her skin, all her cells on high alert, just waiting for the moment she actually combusts.

What Rachel also likes to do, it seems, is quote Quinn's book at her. Honestly, Quinn should have known this is what would happen, because even Santana keeps sending her snapshots of the words she's written with the intention of teasing her about her ongoing lesbian pining.

Joke's on everyone, though, because all that pining has paid off. Rachel Berry is currently sitting at her kitchen counter, hand reaching out whenever Quinn walks past and tugging her into a kiss. It's usually quick, Quinn bustling about in search of ingredients and equipment, but sometimes it's not, and they very nearly end up making out right there in Quinn's kitchen more often than Quinn would admit.

They've tabled the sex for now, which feels like a weight off Quinn's shoulders. It's definitely not because she doesn't want to. In fact, she really, really wants to, but she also knows she's overthinking far too much, and they both deserve more from their first shared experience.

Quinn, admittedly, is also a bit nervous about it. She suspects she's built it up in her head and she just knows the real thing will end up falling short in comparison to the fantasy, and she's just not ready for it. Especially if Rachel has done the same thing. Quinn definitely doesn't want to disappoint her.

"Not to be the voice of reason here, but don't you think, um, you've prepared enough food by now?" Rachel ventures, watching as Quinn takes out another saucepan from an under cabinet.

Quinn turns to her, a little caught. "Um." She blinks. "You think so?"

"I think so."

"Oh?"

Rachel eyes her carefully. "You tend to cook to self-soothe," she points out. "Is there something specific bothering you?" Because they really are about to spend the next few hours existing in front of their friends; bound to face their intense scrutiny after the past few weeks of their crazy lives.

Quinn is slow to put the saucepan on the counter, breathing deeply. "Something specific, not really," she says, "But I'm thinking of a lot of things."

"Anything you'd be comfortable sharing?" Rachel gently prods, because they definitely need to be a united front for what's to come, which means they need to talk about it.

Quinn leans against the counter, slight crease in her brow. "Do you think they'll ask a lot of questions?" she asks. "About us."

"Maybe," she allows. "I think we should decide how much we're prepared to share, and then maybe we can shut it down right at the start."

"Do you think that'll work?"

"I think our friends respect us enough to stay within boundaries as long as we communicate them."

Quinn raises her eyebrows. "Have you met Santana?"

Here, Rachel reaches a hand out, prompting Quinn to move towards her. "Would it make you feel better if I told you Santana already knows?"

"What?"

"There was a small interrogation when I went to our place to get some clothes," she explains. "I think there was a betting pool. She might have lost."

"I don't even know what to say right now."

"We tell them as much as you're comfortable with," Rachel assures her. "And I will happily take the brunt of all their teasing, okay? Because this really is all still new to me, and I want to take things slow."

Quinn's expression shifts, because of course Rachel would figure out that that's her hangup. And it's such a strange thing, because Quinn is -

She's not that teenager she once was. She doesn't feel the same shame in her desire, but there's something different about Rachel. She should have known there was always going to be.

"I don't know what it is," she admits, her hand fitting into Rachel's quite perfectly. "I want to. I want you."

"I know you do," Rachel says, and she sounds very calm, but there really is nothing to be calm about when the person you love can so easily say those words to you. "But it feels big, doesn't it? I know I just want to get it right."

Quinn gives her an unimpressed look.

"It was unintentional that time," she says with a laugh. "But the sentiment remains. I mean, if this were just a new relationship, I like to think we would go through the stages of getting to know each other before we slept together. Right? We can call it the five-date rule."

"As in, we know everything about each other in a platonic sense, and we need to learn about each other in a romantic sense," Quinn offers.

"I think so," Rachel says. "Making the transition isn't always easy, I'm sure. Maybe there's a Reddit about this. There have to be other friends who have had to figure out what it means to be a couple."

Quinn squeezes her fingers, heart expanding in her chest. "I love you," she says, because she's certain of at least this much. "In the platonic, and the ridiculously romantic way."

"I know that, too," Rachel says, but she's blushing.

"I will tell you every single day." She pauses quite deliberately. "I will show you every single day."

Rachel breathes out slowly. "Yeah. Okay. Can you be done cooking so we can kiss now?"

Quinn laughs, moving around the nook. "I think that can be arranged," she says, and then fulfils Rachel's request and then some.


Rachel is aware she looks thoroughly kissed when they arrive at Kurt and Blaine's apartment. There are tiny hickeys all over her neck and chest, Quinn free to roam, and this is at least one way she knows she'll be able to take the brunt of their teasing. She's not even a little embarrassed, because she's the one who had Quinn Fabray - yes, people, Quinn Fabray - on top of her. She deserves a medal or something.

Thankfully, Kurt is preoccupied in the kitchen, his voice getting impossibly high when he sees the amount of food Quinn has brought. "We'll be eating for days," he says, hands spread in slight defeat.

"I was thinking we could donate some," Quinn tells him, and Rachel falls even deeper in love. It can't be possible, can it? This deep well she's fallen into just keeps going, and she keeps falling and falling. She hopes nobody ever tries to catch her. "Whatever we have leftover," Quinn says; "There are shelters we could volunteer at later."

Kurt goes still at the suggestion, expression softening. "That's a really great idea, Quinn," he says. "I'll let everyone know."

Rachel would be content to stand and just keep watching Quinn, but Blaine appears at her side with a glass of wine and says, "That's a new shade of lipstick," like they both don't already know the shade is Quinn's preferred colour.

Rachel takes the glass with a thankful smile. "It's a great colour, isn't it?"

"Giving it a try?"

Her glass freezes on its way to her mouth, and Blaine must realise he's asked the wrong question. "No," she says, "I'm not giving anything a try." Her voice sounds cold even to her own ears. "I wouldn't do that to Quinn, Blaine. I'm in love with her." She glances at him. "As it turns out, I have been for quite a while."

Blaine nods once. "Timing," he says.

"Yes," she agrees, her eyes automatically finding Quinn again, who is now standing at the stove, wine glass in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other.

"Wow," Blaine says, getting her attention again. "I don't know how nobody noticed it before."

"What?"

"The way you look at her," he says. "It's as if she's the reason your world spins."

Rachel frowns at the description. She's never really given conscious thought to how she looks at Quinn, but she can't imagine she's always looked at her like this, right? Surely people would have seen. Surely Quinn would have seen it. She's normally so in tune with Rachel.

But, then again, Rachel might be too close.

"It's not a bad thing," Blaine makes sure to tell her. "A little intense for something that's new, though."

"But it's not quite new, is it?" she counters, eyes drifting to Quinn again, who is already looking at her. Rachel blushes immediately, though she's not too sure exactly why. It's just that Quinn is looking at her. Her girlfriend is looking at her, unabashedly, with such open affection. "It's like I've always felt this way," she tells Blaine, eyes still on Quinn, who hasn't looked away either. "I'm just aware of it now."

Rachel isn't the only one who's aware, though. She can tell from the sly looks they receive and the little comments Santana drops into conversation that their friends are happy for them, if only still exasperated by all the drama that led them to this point.

It's a love story, still, whether it's easy or not. It's a love story that's still ongoing, and Rachel hopes it never, ever ends. It fills her with this belief that everybody deserves this feeling. Especially the people in her life. She counts herself luckier than most, truly, and this entire day is evidence of it.

In the wonderful lull between dinner and dessert, Rachel steps out onto the balcony, tightening her coat around her body, and calls Nicole. They haven't spoken since they both challenged themselves - and each other - to take their respective leaps in their own lives. She's almost expecting to have to leave a voice message, but Nicole actually answers.

"We're coming to watch you perform next week," Nicole says, in lieu of a greeting. "Ed just told me. I don't know why we haven't come to to see you yet."

Rachel just smiles to herself. "Happy holidays, Nicole," she says.

Nicole lets out a laugh. "Rachel," she says. "It is very good to hear from you. Thank you for the wishes, and same to you. Where are you? In New York?"

Rachel looks out to the city before her, bustling and lively and so freezing cold. "I'm in New York, yeah," she says. "Are you?"

"I'm in Boston with Ed," she reveals. "And his children."

"Oh?"

"It's not going as terribly as I anticipated," she says, sounding cautious. "I think we all had misconceptions about one another. It's amazing what happens when you actually talk to the people in your life."

"Shocking, I know." She leans against the railing in front of her. "Have you told him?"

There's only a moment of hesitation, but she finally says, "Last night, actually." She clears her throat. "It was a lot for him to take in, I think. We haven't talked about it since, but he - I mean, I think we're both pretty terrified. This kid will end up with nieces and nephews older than them."

"It can be a lot," Rachel says, which doesn't sound like some kind of consolation. "Regardless of anyone's age or circumstance. Babies are - they can change a lot." She thinks of Quinn now, whose true personality only started to emerge when she fell pregnant with Beth. "Are you worried?"

"Less than I was before," she confesses. "How are you, though? I came to Boston and told Ed. Did you get your girl?"

She smiles automatically. "I did," she reveals.

"Hah," Nicole exclaims. "Finally!"

"We talked and talked some more. We're together now, and she's everything I didn't even know I could have." She still can't even believe it. It steals her breath, sometimes, whenever she remembers that Quinn Fabray is now her present and her future.

"What were we so worried about?" Nicole asks, mostly rhetorically.

Oh, Rachel has a very long list. She counts herself pretty lucky that the person she loves actually loves her back. In another world, it could have gone spectacularly badly. In another world, they might have missed each other completely.

In another world, Quinn might not be hers.

Those fears and worries exist for her still, but she's able to push them away tonight, wishing Nicole well, and mentioning she's looking forward to seeing her in the audience.

When the call ends, Nicole saying she needs to get back to dinner, Rachel doesn't immediately go back inside. They made tentative plans to have dinner together after the show Nicole and Ed are coming to watch, which Rachel needs to ask Quinn about.

She's still standing there, staring out at the city, when she feels strong arms slip around her waist and a warm body press against her back. She knows it's Quinn immediately, her own body relaxing into her.

"I thought I'd come warm you up," Quinn murmurs into her ear. "You've been out here a while. Everything okay?"

"Just thinking," she says. "Life is - it's really good right now."

"Does it terrify you?" Quinn asks. "Because it kind of terrifies me. Life might be good right now, but it hasn't always been kind."

"I think, as long as I have you, I can face everything it might throw at us."

Quinn is quiet for a moment, and then she asks, "Even if it's our love story being performed on stage?"

"What?" She turns immediately, needing to look at Quinn's face. "What are you talking about?"

"Um."

"Quinn?"

"Tom and Denny want my script," she says. "I finished it. They really like it. They want to produce it."

"What?"

"Rachel," she says, voice careful. "The way I love you, an entire audience is going to learn how. They're going to know that even the worst of first meetings can lead to something I can hardly believe sometimes. They're going to know that I've loved you in some way for years, and they're going to know that - " she stops quite suddenly, her cheeks blooming pink. "They're going to know a lot of things that I don't think even you know yet."

It's a lot to take in, really, but she can't help asking, "What don't I know yet?"

And it's a big thing, probably, that Quinn doesn't look at her for a long, long time. "I have loved you for a very long time," she says, which Rachel knows already, surely. "Various people have known this truth about me for, perhaps, just as long. I can't change that now, but you should know that I have chosen you, always. I will always choose you."

It's all she says now, because Rachel doesn't actually need to hear more. She already knows what Quinn is saying. Maybe there's a part of her that's known all along.

"Okay," Rachel says.

Quinn shakes her head, looking amused. "Okay?"

Rachel lifts herself up to kiss her lightly. "Let the entire world know, Quinn," she says. "Let them know just how we love each other."


When Quinn first met Nicole and Ed, she could have been convinced she would never see them again. And yet, here she is, standing only slightly awkwardly as they wait for Rachel to finish signing a few autographs for some fans who have stayed after the show to meet the cast.

It helps but also doesn't that Tom and Denny end up joining them for dinner, Denny calling in an impromptu reservation at a restaurant Quinn wouldn't ever dream of being able to eat at. Denny just leans over to her, probably seeing the expression on her face, and says, "Better get used to it, Miss Author."

Then Tom adds to her slight imposter syndrome by saying, "We've been recommending your book to everyone we see," which turns her bright red. "It feels amazing to say we know the author of a future New York Times bestseller."

Quinn doesn't know what to do with the praise, so she's mightily relieved when they turn their collective attention to Ed and Nicole, allowing her to check in with Rachel, who is just lifting her wine glass to her mouth. Quinn rests her hand on Rachel's leg under the table and says, "I feel very young."

"That's not a very nice thing to say, Quinn."

She chuckles. "No, not in age," she clarifies. "Just, you know, in life and career and just - I don't know - I just don't feel like I've made it enough in life to be sitting at this table."

"Baby, we all have to start somewhere," she says, sliding her fingers over Quinn's. "I think we should try to embrace it. Enjoy it. You belong here. We both do. This is what our lives are going to be like."

And maybe Quinn needed to hear those words. This is exactly the kind of life they can have. They've already taken steps towards it, surprising even themselves with their accomplishments just a few years post-graduation.

Well, actually.

"You realise I'm still a student, right?" Quinn reminds her.

"I'll be your Sugar Mama," Rachel assures her, leaning in to kiss Quinn's cheek.

Quinn can't hold back her smile, and then her blush when she notices Nicole watching them. They've never really talked, the two of them, but Quinn gets the impression Nicole is important to her story with Rachel. She's not entirely sure how or why, but she's already certain of at least this much. This woman helped them get here, and now she'll probably be part of their lives for forever.

Everyone at this table, in fact.

"A toast," Ed suddenly says, drawing their collective attention as he holds up his glass. He's been smiling like he's holding in some very important secret, and Quinn has enough experience to know just what that secret might be.

Maybe it's because she's already given birth, but Nicole is also very strategically not drinking any alcohol. Ed's likely drinking it for her, which is probably why his toast doesn't end up making much sense. It's just an adorable jumble of words, toasting to new and old friends, new business endeavours, and family.

Rachel is also smiling like she knows something, her poker face truly atrocious. It's really a wonder none of them - Quinn included - ever realised Rachel has always looked at her the way she's looking at her right now. "Me thinks Ed's a little tipsy," Rachel says.

"Just a little, yeah," Quinn agrees, laughing softly. "Solidarity and all that."

Rachel's eyes widen for a moment, and then breathes out in relief. "Oh, thank God," she says. "I wasn't sure how I was supposed to stay keeping it from you."

"You've got a perceptive girlfriend."

Rachel raises her eyebrows, and Quinn laughs.

"Yeah. Okay. We're both a little oblivious, huh?"

"It's one of the reasons I love you."

"Oh?" Quinn glances around the table, noting that the other four people are involved in their own conversation. "What are the other reasons?"

Rachel's own hand is already resting on Quinn's leg, and her fingers tighten their hold for a moment. "You know, there are literally so many reasons, but I can't think of any one thing right now."

"Ouch."

She giggles, leaning into Quinn, soaking up some warmth. "What if I put it in a song?" she suggests. "You've written the book, and I'm going to write the song."

"Are we really going to be that couple?" Quinn asks, already anticipating the endless teasing that's sure to come their way from their friends. And potential strangers, maybe.

"Why not?" Rachel says. "We'll be a powerhouse couple."

"Your writing songs and my - " she stops quite suddenly, a thought taking root in her brain. "Oh."

"What?" Rachel frowns. "What's wrong?"

"No. Nothing. I just - I had a thought."

"Ouch."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "No, I just - I have a script, yes, but I'm writing a musical for Tom and Denny," she says, as if either of them even needs the reminder right now. "What if - I mean, they probably wouldn't let you do it all by yourself, but what if you could help with the music?"

Rachel blinks, visibly caught off guard by Quinn's suggestion. "Huh."

"Exactly."

"Would you even want that?"

Quinn covers Rachel's hand that's still on her leg. "Who else could really help capture what my characters are feeling throughout the story?" she questions. "You're practically one half."

"Oh, you're admitting it now, huh?"

Quinn rolls her eyes. "You're the only one allowed to tease me about this."

"You probably shouldn't have written a book about how much you've always loved me if you wanted that."

"Wow."

"I'm just saying."

Quinn squeezes her fingers, still constantly marvelling at how wonderful it is that they get to exist this way. "I love you," she says, just because she can.

Rachel kisses her cheek, the great big world falling away. "I love you, too."

They will be a powerhouse couple, Quinn is suddenly sure. But mostly, she's sure they'll get to be together and be happy, and she'll take that future today and every day.


Rachel can, somewhat successfully, avoid the Santana-inquisition for only another two days. While she does tend to spend most nights at Quinn's place, she does still live with Santana, and she comes home one evening after her show to find Santana sitting on the couch, clearly waiting for her.

Rachel is sorely tempted to turn right back around and make her way anywhere else, regardless of the time. She doesn't, of course, which might have something to do with the fact Santana very simply says, "You and I are going to talk." Her tone isn't exactly severe, but it doesn't leave much room for rebuttal.

With a sigh, Rachel steps further into their living space, slipping her bag off her shoulder and taking off her coat. "What are we going to talk about?" she asks.

"Several things," Santana says, "But mostly the fact that you're now in a relationship and seem to have completely disappeared from my life."

Rachel audibly swallows. "San - "

"Nope," she says. "I'm talking. I literally live with you, and I swear I've seen Quinn more than I've seen you. What's up with that?"

Rachel opens her mouth, and then closes it. Opens it again. "Um. Can I reply now?"

"Oh, my God."

Rachel grins as she skips towards Santana, barely hesitating before she practically throws herself at her. Santana puts up a fight just because she has to, but Rachel can tell she's missed her just by the way she stops moving and just lets Rachel drape her body over her.

Santana puffs out a breath. "Quinn mentioned that it might be because you expect me to say something along the lines of 'I told you so.'"

Rachel stiffens, and maybe Santana's hit the nail on the head. "I don't know," she finally says, moving off of Santana and sitting on the couch beside her. "You warned me."

"I warned you both, yes," Santana says. "Not that anybody ever listens to me. I just didn't want to watch you two hurt each other."

"We did."

"Yeah."

"We put each other and a lot of other people through quite a bit," Rachel says, just putting it out there. Julia might be the villain in their story, but there might be a part of Rachel that could understand her. "I can't quite make sense of my motivations yet, but I believe everything happens for a reason. Whatever lessons we were meant to learn through everything we all went through, hopefully we learned them."

Santana nods once. "That doesn't really explain why you've been avoiding me."

"Oh." Rachel stops, thinking about it. "It's not conscious. I don't know. Maybe I'm embarrassed."

"Why?"

"Literally everybody knew how Quinn felt about me except me," she points out. "All of you. This entire time. You just knew. That's just - and you kept it all to yourselves, letting me make some horrific romantic choices. I don't know. I guess - " she stops, frowning. "I know you were protecting her, but it kind of feels like you - you especially - weren't protecting me." Her frown deepens. "That doesn't make sense, does it?"

Santana matches her expression. "If you had ever shown remotely any interest - even just in women - you know I would have said something," she points out. "Maybe we all just couldn't see past the idea of your being our token straight."

Rachel looks down at her hands in her lap. "Yeah."

Santana covers said hands. "Look," she says. "Your love story is honestly crazy as fuck, but whose isn't, right? It's all worked out in the end. You're disgustingly in love with each other, probably already planning for marriage and babies like a stereotypical pair of U-Haul lesbians."

Rachel can't help her laugh. "Yeah. Something like that."

Santana is grinning now, ire forgotten. "Well, now you can answer the world's burning questions," she says. "Is she just completely crazy in bed?"

Rachel blinks. "Um."

Santana catches on immediately. "Oh."

"We're waiting," Rachel says now, frowning as she says the words. "I think she's worried, or nervous. Both. Because this - "

"It feels like forever to her," Santana finishes for her.

"Yeah."

"Well, I'm sure it'll be worth the wait," Santana says with a smirk.

Of that, well, Rachel was already certain.


When Rachel meets Quinn for lunch the next day, she starts by saying, "I've been trying to figure out what's changed about our relationship now that we're dating," while they're looking over their menus.

Quinn sets hers on the table, already knowing what she's getting. She also knows what she's going to order for Rachel when she inevitably panics about her choices. "What do you mean?"

"I just - we're dating," she says. "But we still mostly do all the things we did before we made that switch. Besides the kissing, obviously. It's just, like, we already had pet names. We already had sleepovers and little inside jokes. We used to touch a lot. We were - we were already so close, and I just - is that just how we were, or is that how people are?"

Quinn isn't really sure what Rachel is asking of her, but she still says, "Everyone is different." She shifts in her seat. "I do think you and I have always had a different relationship, maybe something always more than friendship from the moment we decided to try to be just that to each other."

"I just - wasn't that just completely awful for you?" Rachel asks, brow creased. "If we're in a relationship and those are the things we still do, wasn't it just pure torture to be on the receiving end of that behaviour from me when we weren't together?"

Oof.

These are definitely not questions Quinn was expecting to be asked today.

"I'm sometimes a masochist, Rachel," Quinn points out, only half-joking. The look Rachel gives her tells her she doesn't appreciate it. "I mean, I am, though, and I decided quite early on that you were too important to lose. I wouldn't have changed a thing."

"But you - Quinn." She breathes out. "Julia asked you to choose between us."

Quinn's eyes widen, because she definitely doesn't remember ever actually telling Rachel that. Did she? Shit. Did Santana? Why on Earth would she even do that?

"And, even though you had no reason to believe anything would happen between us, you still chose me."

Quinn shrugs, because there shouldn't be anything surprising about that. Even if there was a moment - a tiny, dangerous moment - when she truly considered what it would be like to exist in a world where she wasn't hopelessly pining over her best friend.

Now, though, she knows that world never could have existed. Quinn Fabray can't quite exist without being at least a little in love with Rachel Berry. At this moment, she gets to be as in love with her as she wants to be, and she's allowed to show it. She wouldn't change a thing.

"It's my experience that, if ever someone asks you to choose, you're better off going with the other person," Quinn says, perhaps a bit offhandedly. She doesn't really want to be talking about any of this. She really just wants to enjoy their meal, and then maybe make out in her office if Jason isn't back from lunch yet.

Rachel must sense her reluctance, but she still asks, "Any regrets?" like she's genuinely worried about Quinn's answer.

Quinn has eyes for only her when she says, "Absolutely none at all." Which is already saying something, because they've both already been through far too much in their young lives.

"Good."

Quinn grins. "Good."

"I love you."

If possible, her grin gets wider. "Let me take you out tonight."

"Excuse me?"

"On a date," Quinn says. "Tonight. After your show. You and me. Dinner? A film?" She visibly pauses, as if contemplating her next words. "Anything, really, purely as a precursor for taking you back to my place and getting you naked."

Rachel goes completely still, her heart pounding in her chest. "Oh?"

"If - um, if that's still what you want," Quinn says, hesitant.

Rachel would laugh at the absurdity of those words if Quinn didn't look so worried. It's honestly very cute. "Are you sure?" she asks. "Because I'm not in any rush. Not to sound completely cheesy or anything, but we really do have the rest of our lives."

Quinn's expression morphs from hesitancy to something softer, before she actually smirks. "So you're saying you don't want to sleep with me?"

Rachel allows her the deflection, because they really do have the rest of their lives. "I said no such thing."

"Sounds like you did."

"You definitely misheard me."

Quinn just smiles, so soft and so perfect, and Rachel is so in love. "So, tonight?" she asks again. "I can pick you up from the theatre. We can get some dinner, and then we can - "

"Go back to your place?" Rachel finishes, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Yeah," Quinn says, and her gaze drops to the table. "Thank you for being so patient with me." Her voice drops to little more than a whisper, and Rachel won't have that. She'd like to hear that perfect voice and see those gorgeous eyes for the rest of her life.

"I think I should be saying that," Rachel murmurs.

"Nobody's stopping you."

In this moment, Rachel is convinced her life can only get better from here, and it's already pretty good. "Thank you for being so patient with me," she says now, her heart beating steadily in her chest. She'll never quite get over what it feels like to be here with Quinn; to know they're together together.

"I love you," Quinn tells her, which is maybe reason enough for both of them. It explains everything, doesn't it? Quinn's neverending, abundant love for her has already stood the test of years and years. It's tortured her in the past, but now it brings her all the joy she never could have dreamed it could.

Rachel gets to her feet and leans across the table to kiss Quinn, mainly because she can't help herself. Quinn Fabray is hers to be kissed, and so she's going to be kissing her at every opportunity she can.

Quinn is smiling a little too knowingly when Rachel pulls away, but she doesn't get a chance to speak before their server finally arrives to take their order.

It plays out exactly as Quinn imagined, her simply giving her own order, and then watching as Rachel panics about the options. It makes her feel alarmingly good to be needed this way, saving Rachel from having to choose by ordering what she'll inevitably like, but Quinn isn't going to say that out loud.

"Never leave me," Rachel says after their server is gone, which is quite a monumental thing to say after only a few weeks of official dating.

Still, perhaps, they both already know that Quinn never would.

As if she ever could.


If Rachel had to hazard a guess at what Quinn would plan for this particular date, she definitely wouldn't have picked Quinn's sneaking her into one of Columbia's auditoriums after her show ends, and actually serenading her at the piano.

It is honestly so stupidly romantic that Rachel doesn't know what to do with herself.

Sometimes, Rachel forgets just how talented Quinn actually is, mainly because Quinn tends to hide herself, by default. Which is really just the complete opposite to Rachel, who wants everyone to know that she might - hopefully, maybe, desperately - actually win her first Tony this year.

What Quinn ends up singing for her is actually a song she's been working on for the script she's still trying to turn into musical. "I mentioned to Denny that I already had some ideas, but I - this is the song that I've wanted to play for you for years."

Rachel is sitting beside her on the piano bench when Quinn starts to play, and it feels as if the world stops. Everything zeroes into this moment right here, with Quinn, and their future laid out before them in song.

Rachel doesn't think she's even breathing, hearing Quinn quietly sing the words, "Let me tell you, honey, I used to dream of this/in the rain and in the shine, I didn't think you could ever be mine/couldn't tell what was real or all in my mind/all I know is I'll choose you if you'll choose me/so why don't you tell me, honey, is this your dream too?"

Rachel is at risk of melting into a puddle. Never in her life did she think she would ever get to experience something like this - let alone with Quinn Fabray.

"I don't think it's that good," Quinn says, frowning at herself as the last notes echo in the empty auditorium. "I mean, it's not bad, but it could definitely use some work."

"Quinn," Rachel says, hands on Quinn's arm. "I love it. Wow. I - I don't even know what I would have done if you'd played that for me weeks ago."

"I don't think I would have."

"Ever?"

Quinn looks away, lips pressed together. "I am terrified," she quietly confesses. "I have been for quite some time. Of you and how you make me feel, yes, but mostly of how much I want. I want you, and I want our lives together, and I am terrified of how much power I've already given away, because I know - I already know it will devastate me to - I just won't survive if - "

Quinn can't bear to keep speaking, and Rachel can't bear to keep hearing the words. Rachel's known that these are fears Quinn has harboured, stopping her from revealing her true feelings over the years. With good reason, maybe, because the two of them have fumbled and stumbled to get to this point right now, but Rachel knows - knows it deep in her bones - that this relationship is it for her. There will never again be someone else.

"I don't know what to say to reassure you," Rachel admits, because she doesn't. Words are just that: words. People say them all the time and mean none of them. "I'll write a million songs, Quinn. I'll profess my love every single day, but I think - " she stops, trying to find the best way to get her meaning across. "You said, 'I'll choose you if you'll choose me,' right?"

Quinn nods slowly, looking at her again.

"Well, I'm choosing you, Quinn," she says. "I'll choose you every single day, if you'll do the same." And she knows Quinn already has, but Quinn isn't the only one who's terrified here. They're going to have to trust each other. Once and for all, they're just going to have to make the decision to keep choosing each other.

"Okay," Quinn says, and, yeah, maybe it really is just as simple as that.

A small laugh bubbles out of Rachel. "That easy, huh?"

"Yeah." Quinn leans into her slightly, smelling like apples and cinnamon and something else inherently just her. "I don't know. Maybe we should ask ourselves why we're making this difficult when the rest of the world already is?"

Rachel kisses her, unable to stop herself. "I feel a bit like I'm suffering from whiplash."

Quinn grins. "I might have a way to soothe that."

"Oh?"

"You ready to get out of here?" There's a very specific tone in her voice that essentially spells out many promises for the rest of the night, but Rachel can't quite ignore Quinn's previous admission of fear.

"Are you?" she counters, tone serious.

Rather inexplicably, Quinn's grin turns into a smirk. "I've been waiting a long time, Rachel Berry. Please let me show you every dirty thing I've fantasised about you."

Rachel gets to her feet quite suddenly, as if someone's just electrocuted her, which gets a loud laugh out of Quinn. It brings heat to Rachel's cheeks, both pleased and embarrassed in equal measure. "Come on, then. Get up. Lead the way."

Quinn just looks deathly amused as she gently shuts the piano keys away, her fingers gliding over the smooth dark wood. She's unfairly graceful as she gets to her own feet, but it's her facial expression that tells Rachel that she just might have unlocked something very specific in Quinn, but mostly between the two of them.

Quinn takes her hand so very gently, and then does lead the way. She doesn't live too far from Columbia's campus, which is very smart planning but also a relief in this moment. The anticipation would kill Rachel, otherwise. What's worse is that Quinn isn't even doing anything. The last time they went to her apartment with the intention of taking off each other's clothes, they were in a rush, and they couldn't keep their eyes and hands off each other.

Tonight is different.

Tonight, they're strolling.

Quinn even stops to pick up a penny on the sidewalk like this night isn't potentially monumental in the grand scheme of their friendship and relationship. Like they both don't know what they're going home to. Like it truly is just any other night.

And, well, maybe it is.

Maybe this is just the first of many more nights just like this.

It's what Rachel tells herself, at least, until they're riding the elevator up to Quinn's apartment and the weight of what's about to happen settles over her like a warm blanket that could suffocate her if she let it. It feels both big and small, the two of them in this bubble of all the love they've desperately wanted to express to and for each other.

When they finally arrive at Quinn's apartment, Quinn is so very calm as she retrieves her keys from her coat pocket and unlocks the door. Rachel follows her inside, eyes only on her as she closes the door again and turns around, the silence of many promises existing in the space between.

Quinn just stands and looks at her, taking her in like she's committing her to memory. Then she leans back against the wall, looking a bit sheepish, and says, "Third time lucky, huh?"

Rachel moves towards her immediately, reaching out to touch, because she can't stand being in this space with her and not doing just that. Once she's close enough to feel the heat of her, Rachel's fingers thread through Quinn's hair, and she tilts her own head upwards, meeting her gaze. It's such a simple thing to be able to look into her eyes and know she's looking right back at her.

"Hi," Quinn murmurs.

Rachel continues to stare. "I'm just trying to take it all in," she says, sounding breathless. Her own cheeks are flushed, lips just a little blue from the evening air, and this moment is real and true.

Quinn's hands settle on her hips, just holding her there. It's almost as if she needs to be touching her, too, just to convince herself all of this is really happening. It's probably going to be the theme going forward: this wild disbelief that Rachel Berry is in her arms and she actually wants to be.

It's happening.

"It's real," Quinn whispers, needing to say it for herself as much as for Rachel.

Rachel gets closer, nosing at Quinn's cheek and humming softly. "It's real," she echoes. "It's always been real, even when we didn't know it."

Quinn sighs dreamily, words failing her.

"I get to just be with you now," Rachel adds, resting her forehead against Quinn's.

"You do," she confirms.

"And touch you," Rachel continues, "and hold you, just look at you, actually sleep with you, love you."

Quinn finds herself holding her breath, because this is everything she's ever wanted. It's also so much more than she ever anticipated or expected.

It's everything, and she's tempted to pinch herself to make sure it's not all just some hopeless dream.

If it is a dream, she never wants to wake up.

But no, it's real.

It's real.

"I get to do all these wonderful things now," Rachel muses, shifting closer and trailing her lips along Quinn's jaw. "I get to call you mine," she says. "I get to - "

"Rachel," Quinn forces out, voice a bit strained. "I love you; really, I do, but please will you just shut up and kiss me."

Rachel's smile spreads across her face, slow and purposeful. "I get to do that as well," she says, lifting herself up onto her toes. "Because we're doing this, Quinn," she adds in a whisper, closing the minimal gap between their mouths. "All of it, it's for real."


Fin


AN: I started this one midway through NaNoWriMo in 2018, and it has definitely taken its sweet old time to be completed. Honestly, I'm a little embarrassed, but it's always a sense of accomplishment when I do finish a longer story, so here we are. Once again, thank you for reading, liking and commenting, and I sincerely, desperately, achingly hope you're all safe and healthy and happy wherever you are in the world.