Author's Note: Number 48 of the Don't Blink series set ten months after It's Nice to Have You Here.
This was supposed to be a short Halloween ficlet, but it got a little wordy, so it's getting its own entry.
All mistakes are my own.
Disclaimer: Still don't own 'em.
I'd Search the Moons of Endor
And of course I'd do anything for her
I'd search the moons of Endor
I'd even walk naked through
The deserts of Tatooine.
~A New Hope, Blink-182
Once upon a time, Quinn Fabray had been a master of manipulation—and okay, perhaps master might be a slightly hyperbolic claim if you take into account the tally of successful manipulations versus the utterly unsuccessful (borderline disastrous) ones, but her general point stands. The old Quinn Fabray had happily attempted to manipulate friends, rivals, and family alike in order to get what she wanted. She likes to believe that those days are far behind her. After all, she has practically everything that she's ever wanted, and she'd gotten all of it through honesty and patience (more or less) and a little bit of luck wrapped up in a whole lot of love. Quinn doesn't need to manipulate anyone ever again.
(She doesn't consider the occasional gentle and loving maneuvering of her wife via mutually beneficial seduction techniques as actual manipulation, not when they both generally benefit from the transaction, and anyway, Rachel isn't exactly innocent of employing the same methods when it suits her.)
So the sudden regression into the old habit should be alarming. She should feel absolutely terrible about having done it—had, in fact, silently chastised herself while she was doing it—but she still hadn't hesitated for one single moment in her orchestrations, even when the victim is her very own precious daughter.
In her defense, it really didn't take much to nudge Callie in the direction that Quinn preferred. The whole thing amounted to nearly nothing in all honesty. Why, it's practically right in line with normal, everyday mothering. What is mothering, after all, but the gentle nudging of your children onto the most advantageous path to achieve their ultimate health and happiness and success in the world?
Callie is perfectly happy right now, so if this particular path happens to be slightly different from the original one that her daughter had been tiptoeing down and more in line with Quinn's ultimate happiness—well, no one needs to know.
"Next year, I swear to Barbra, I'm locking Calliope into her Halloween costume in August," Rachel grumbles as she maneuvers the stroller containing baby Celeste into the elevator next to Quinn. "There will be no last minute theme changes."
Dark eyes land squarely on Quinn to punctuate her statement, and Quinn briefly averts her own, biting into her lower lip to stifle a smile. She suspects that Rachel may, in fact, know exactly what she's done.
"But you did such a fantastic job with this one," Quinn compliments, her gaze bouncing down to Callie, who's using her plastic lightsaber to press the button for the tenth floor. Pride swells in her chest at both her daughter's mastery of the toy and her perfect recall of how to get to the Rinaldi-Lopez apartment.
Calliope is a flawless Rey Skywalker in miniature, from the cute bun in her hair to the white shirt with flowing tails, armbands, and brown ankle boots. The only thing missing is the staff, but Callie had wanted the lightsaber instead, and both of her mothers had drawn the line at one potentially dangerous weapon to be swung around.
"After I already had half the costumes ready for a Batgirl theme." Unvoiced accusations are as clear in her expression as if they'd been said aloud.
Quinn shrugs innocently. "It's not my fault there seems to always be some new Star Wars thing released into the universe every year."
"No, but the timing of her latest tumble down this particular rabbit hole is highly suspect," Rachel complains softly.
"I think it'd be more of a wormhole in this case," Quinn offers with an unrepentant grin before leaning down over the stroller to gently brush a finger over Celeste's pink cheek. "Isn't that right, bunny?"
Celeste is also adorable beyond words, wrapped up in a white onesie and blanket with recognizable blue trim. The cutest little blue beanie cap designed like R2D2's head sits snugly over her ash blond curls. Quinn had even gone the extra mile (possibly feeling mildly guilty about her role in the Halloween theme change) and tricked out their jogging stroller with a DIY blue and white cloth covering fitted over the canopy to make it look like R2 as well.
Her kids are absolutely rocking their space costumes.
Celeste's sleepy hazel eyes widen into wakefulness at her mommy's attention and her tiny lips part in a half-toothless grin. "Bah."
Quinn sighs at the expected grunt. Celeste's babbling hasn't quite turned into any recognizable words yet, but she has seemed to settle on 'bah' when she's looking at Quinn. Rachel finds it hilarious, claiming it's her own fault for constantly calling their youngest bunny. Quinn refuses to admit that she might be right, but it makes sense that Celeste is imitating the sound she hears so often from Quinn because she associates it with her.
At this moment, with her daughter's big smile aimed right at her, she can't find it anything but endearing.
"It's a hyperspace jump, Mommy," Callie corrects distractedly, still faintly swinging her lightsaber back and forth like she's fighting some imaginary Sith Lord.
Quinn smiles at her daughter. "Ah, of course." She turns that smile on Rachel, dutifully repeating, "It's a hyperspace jump, Rach."
Rachel only sighs in exasperation, which actually works really well with her costume.
"Besides, you should be relieved." Quinn gestures to her wife's dress. "This whole look was much easier to pull off than what you'd originally planned."
A flowing white dress, a white belt, and two neat buns on the side of her head. It's simple and iconic.
Rachel's eyebrows inch up in clear amusement. "And that opinion has absolutely nothing to do with your objection to me wearing bikini bottoms and fishnets out in public?"
Quinn frowns. She hadn't exactly objected, but, "I still maintain you'd have been cold."
In fact, it's mercifully in the mid-fifties tonight—warmer than it could be for the end of October, but chilly enough to still require an extra layer. She knows her wife is wearing white tights under her dress, a far cry warmer than the fishnets would have been. Callie had tried to object to the long sleeve shirt they'd made her put on underneath her costume, but they'd found one tight enough and in the right shade of beige to mostly blend in with her skin, so she'd ultimately surrendered. She really is so much like Rachel with her need for authenticity.
Once again, Quinn feels just the smallest flash of guilt. Until last month, Callie had been firmly in a Batgirl phase thanks to the rebooted cartoon series that had debuted over the summer. She'd obviously wanted to be Batgirl until Quinn had given her that little nudge into a galaxy far, far away.
She's certain that her daughter would have made a fantastic superhero. Rachel had even had a pretty authentic looking costume ordered. It's currently in the upstairs closet of their brand new house, pending a decision to return it or just give it to Callie as a Christmas gift. (Their daughter may still be mildly spoiled.)
Celeste had been slated to be a mini Catwoman in a black onesie and cat-eared beanie that she will definitely still be wearing at least once in the future.
Rachel had been planning to dress as Zatanna Zatara, one of the breakout side characters in the animated series. She'd already had the black bikini bottoms and fishnets for reasons—similar though slightly different reasons to the black top hat that's been on a shelf in their closet for years thanks to Quinn. Rachel had only needed to find a tuxedo vest and tails that would fit her in a flattering way.
Really, on a purely selfish level, Quinn is a little sad that she won't be witnessing her wife in that outfit. She's much less sad that the rest of New York City will miss out on it. Rachel has more than gotten her body back since giving birth to Celeste last December. That jogging stroller isn't just for show.
The skimpy, sexy outfit that she'd been planning for herself, despite what Rachel might think, is not the reason that Quinn had given Callie that nudge away from Batgirl.
No.
It had been Rachel's insistence that Quinn should complete the family animated superhero theme by donning the short red skirt and midriff baring top of Supergirl that had prompted Quinn to secretly retaliate.
She'd wanted to wear pants, damn it!
And then she'd remembered last Halloween's thwarted Han Solo idea, and her more manipulative self had appeared with plans—Big Plans.
It had only taken a well-timed binge of the most recent Star Wars animated series—there really is a new entry into the universe every year—and a rewatch of the last Rey centered film to get Calliope back into her Jedi phase. Quinn can't really help how easily Callie is distracted by new (and old) things. That's probably something that she and Rachel should work on curbing in the future, even if it does currently have its advantages.
So maybe Quinn had taken advantage of one of her daughter's little quirks for her own gain. She isn't even the person responsible for introducing Callie to the Star Wars fandom in the first place. That had been entirely the doing of one Teresa Rinaldi-Lopez, who may or may not be fully and completely aware of Quinn's little plot.
There's a lack of solid proof, so Rachel can only speculate, which, of course, she does. "I still maintain that you somehow put all of this into motion, you scoundrel."
"Scoundrel?" Quinn echoes, lips twitching into a roguish smirk as she leans closer to her wife. If Rachel were truly upset with her, she wouldn't have fed her that line so perfectly. "Scoundrel. I like the sound of that."
Rachel likes it too. Quinn can tell. Despite her general annoyance with the late-in-the-game costume change, Rachel has clearly been eyeing Quinn's tight blue pants and black vest combo with appreciation since she'd put it on earlier. There's no way she's going to admit it without putting up at least a small fight. Quinn has been married to her long enough to know that.
"You would." She doesn't play along with the dialogue, probably because she'd only ever half paid attention to any of the movies, just enough to recognize certain catch phrases.
Quinn is slightly more fluent thanks to her recent mission. (She rarely admits to her own childhood love of the original trilogy and refuses to unpack the recent realization that Princess Leia might have contributed to her preference for brunettes.) "I think you like me because I'm a scoundrel." She pries Rachel's hand from the stroller handle and lifts it to her lips, bestowing a kiss to her knuckles. "You need more scoundrels in your life."
"Four of you are quite enough," Rachel responds with a laugh.
Quinn's brow furrows. "Four?" She makes a show of pointing to herself and their two daughters, coming up with three.
Rachel rolls her eyes. "As if Beth wasn't playing Imperial soldier on her fall break."
Quinn's laughter fills the elevator at the memory of her firstborn playing pretend stormtrooper with her younger sister (niece). "Yeah. I guess it is four. Too bad Beth had to go back to Emerson. She could have been Captain Phasma."
"I don't know who that is," Rachel admits with furrowed brows, "and I'm mildly concerned that you do."
"She's one of the bad guys, Mama," Callie chimes in, looking exasperated at her mother's lack of Star Wars knowledge. "Finn beat her."
Rachel's expression is bemused. "Finn did?"
"Star Wars Finn," Quinn explains. "Not Ohio Finn."
Rachel gives her a look. "I'm not quite that uninformed, Quinn. I was merely surprised that it wasn't Rey who beat the bad guy."
"She beat the really bad guy," Callie proudly declares. "Finn was just helping out. He's not the hero though."
"No, he definitely is not," Quinn agrees cheekily.
Rachel pokes her shoulder in warning. "I know you're not talking about the character, and I don't think our Finn would appreciate being labeled Ohio Finn."
"It's where he lives," Quinn defends, unconcerned. So what if she'd made her peace with Finn Hudson years ago? She's allowed to be a little peevish about past grudges from time to time.
The dinging of the elevator finally arriving at their destination puts a halt to the conversation, and Callie rushes through the doors the moment they slide open.
"Calliope Alice," Rachel calls after her with a frown, hastily struggling to get the stroller moving. "Wait for us."
"I got her, princess," Quinn vows, already running after their wayward Jedi. The kid is fast; Quinn will give her that. She's already halfway down the hall before Quinn catches up with her and slows her down with a firm hand on her shoulder.
"Woah, there, padawan. You know better than to run off like that."
Callie pouts up at her. "But it's jus' Aunt Tana and Tee's house."
"The hallway is not their house," Quinn gently reprimands. "There could be evil stormtroopers behind any of these doors waiting to snatch you up."
There most likely aren't. Santana is probably the most evil person on this floor—possibly in the whole building—but that's not the point. Precocious or not, Callie is only six. Quinn isn't taking any chances with her safety.
"I'd stab 'em," she insists, making a dramatic stabbing motion with her lightsaber. It's not very Jedi-like, but it is done with the kind of intense conviction that she'd undoubtedly learned from Rachel.
"There will be no stabbing," Rachel objects, stopping next to Quinn, "or young Jedis will lose their weapons."
Callie's lip juts out even more. "But I need to protect you from the bad guys."
Rachel smiles fondly at their daughter, shaking her head. "Your mommy and I are supposed to protect you from all the bad guys. That's why you need to stop running ahead of us."
Callie huffs out a defeated sigh. "Yes, Mama."
"Come on, baby bear," Quinn prompts, resting a hand on the plastic blaster gun holstered at her hip, "let's go join the rest of our rebel alliance and start collecting some candy."
"Yay, candy!" Callie exclaims, all traces of dejection having instantly disappeared at the mention of candy. This time she grabs Quinn's hand to tug her along as she skips ahead of them towards their friends' apartment.
Quinn laughs, letting herself be led the short distance to the door. She knocks to the rhythm of 'The Imperial March' and only needs to wait fifteen seconds for the door to swing open. "Chewie, we're home," she announces with a shit-eating grin.
Santana's unamused gaze runs down over Quinn's costume before coming back up. "I don't remember Han Solo having a bad dye job."
Quinn ignores the dig. She knows her hair is on point today. "He wishes he was a blond," she snarks back, shouldering her way inside the way Santana so often does to her.
"Hi, Aunt Tana," Callie shouts happily as she bounces in after Quinn with enough enthusiasm to instantly turn Santana's scowl into a smile. She raises a hand to her temple and points her lightsaber at the woman, trick or treat bag dangling from her wrist. "You will give me all your candy."
Santana snorts in amusement, gently bopping Calliope on her nose before guiding her inside. "Yeah, that mind trick won't work on a fellow Jedi." Though she does, in fact, scoop a handful of candy from the jar on the table into Callie's open bag. "And it's Aunt Tano today, munchkin," she adds with a wink.
Quinn has to admit, her Ahsoka Tano costume is spot on. Santana even got her face paint perfectly placed—or more likely, Teresa did it for her—and donned blue contacts for the occasion. It's actually a little bit eerie just how much she looks like the character.
"And Aunt Sabine is in the living room with Rose Tico, Space Toddler." Santana gestures toward the room in question, and Calliope takes off running.
"Hi, Aunt Tee. Hi, Sofie," she calls out excitedly, even while Rachel maneuvers the stroller through the doorway.
"Well, at least we were already inside before she took off this time," she comments wryly, watching their daughter run ahead of them again.
"Slow though you are," Santana comments, though her attention is already on baby Celeste. She wiggles her fingers in greeting, a besotted grin on her face. "There's my little tadpole."
Celeste only giggles.
Rachel aims a half-hearted glare at her. "Must you keep calling her that?"
"I must," Santana answers with a smirk. "Now get your royal behind moving so we can get this party started." With that, she turns to join her family and Callie in the living room, leaving Rachel and Quinn to follow.
Rachel's shoulders droop in resigned defeat, and Quinn offers her a sympathetic smile. "You know she does it with love."
Rachel sighs, and her lips quirk faintly upwards at the corners. "Unfortunately, I do. It's the only reason I let her keep getting away with it."
Quinn chuckles, laying a gentle hand on her wife's back to guide her forward. "You know, I think you secretly like it." As much as Rachel grumbles about the nicknames their girls keep getting, especially the ones from Santana, she's never put any real heat behind her protests, and they all know just how loud and demanding she can be when she seriously objects to something.
"You can't prove that," she demurs, her sly smile giving her away.
When they enter the living room, Calliope is still striking various poses to show off her costume, and Sofie keeps trying to mimic her every move, though she's far clumsier about it. Teresa is clearly keeping a watchful eye on her daughter while not hovering, instead cheering Calliope on.
"You are one impressive Jedi, Callie. You look awesome." She catches sight of Quinn and Rachel and smiles. "And your moms looks awesome too."
Sofia's face lights up when she sees them. "Hi, Cue. Hi, Ray'ah."
"Hello, Sofia," Rachel responds with a tender smile as she parks the stroller. "And thank you, Teresa. I must say, you all look stellar too."
Santana groans at the pun. "Boo."
Quinn laughs. "Rachel's right though. We all nailed our costumes."
Teresa's outfit isn't really all that elaborate. It's mostly just a form-fitting, brown jumpsuit and black knee-high boots with an authentic looking gun belt cinched at her waist, but she'd covered her torso with a painted chest piece and attached matching plastic shoulder pads to look exactly like the Mandalorian armor worn by Sabine Wren. What really completes the look, though, is the purple dye in her short hair.
Little Sofie's costume is even simpler; brown pants and a tan shirt covered by a dark brown jacket. Santana had said she was supposed to be Rose Tico, but she could almost pass for a miniature female Finn—or any number of other random rebel characters.
Teresa nods towards their stroller. "Cool wheels, too."
Quinn beams with pride. "You're not the only artist around here."
"Just the best one," Santana counters, "but yeah." She kneels down in front of the stroller and smiles adoringly at Celeste as she reaches inside. "You're just the cutest little R2 unit, aren't you?"
"She is," Rachel agrees quickly, "but if you lift her out of that stroller and rile her up, Santana Lopez, even the Force won't save you from my wrath."
Santana's hands freeze where they're already lightly resting on Celeste's little body, and she scowls up at Rachel with muted annoyance. It's rare that Santana gets denied her baby-cuddling time.
"Rachel had to sing the entirety of 'Shake It Off' in the parking garage to calm her down enough to even sit in the stroller," Quinn explains. It's Rachel's go-to song for getting their baby girl ready for their mother-daughter jogs, but unfortunately, now Celeste will only let them buckle her into the stroller if Rachel is singing it. "Five people asked her for an autograph before we could get out of there, and then Celeste decided she wanted to keep throwing her hat on the ground until Rachel started singing again."
Understanding flashes over Santana's face, and she lifts her hands into the air in surrender. "Okay, okay. Wouldn't want to subject myself to that."
Teresa chuckles, admitting, "We had the same problem with Sofie, minus the singing. We tried to dress her up as Hera first, but she would not keep the headpiece on."
"Yucky hat," Sofie chimes in with a scowl that makes it very clear that she's Santana's child.
Her outfit makes a little more sense in light of the new information. The pants and jacket are in line with the version of Hera Syndulla from the more recent Ahsoka series that had run on Disney Plus. "Please tell me you weren't planning to paint her green," Quinn begs.
"Green," Rachel echoes, clearly confused. Her very limited Star Wars education mostly consists of the original trilogy and most things Rey Skywalker, thanks to their daughter, but there are generally way too many characters scattered throughout the universe for her to keep track of every name and detail.
"God, no," Teresa denies, shaking her head. "We'd have definitely skipped that part."
"I feel like I'm missing something. Who is Hera?" Rachel asks Quinn.
"We'll do an Ahsoka rewatch this weekend," Quinn promises. Callie's little cheer makes it clear that she's onboard with that plan too.
The furrow between Rachel's eyebrows deepens and she worries her lower lip for a moment before she remembers. "Oh, the green commander woman with the little boy."
"I can't believe you didn't study a character wiki in preparation for your role tonight," Santana teases, typical smirk in place. "I'm so disappointed."
Rachel crosses her arms and lifts her chin haughtily. "Well, I did what I could considering the short notice, and don't think I'm not fully aware that you and Teresa both aided and abetted Quinn in her scheme to switch our costumes at the last minute."
Santana scoffs. "Since when is three weeks last minute?"
Quinn laughs and wraps an arm around her wife's waist. "It's Rachel's world. We all just live in it." Very happily so, in Quinn's case, and even happier when Rachel melts into her side in contentment.
Santana remains unamused. "Like H…Oth," she stutters through the last minute correction. "Like Hoth, it is," she reiterates, feigning complete confidence in her theme-appropriate curse.
"'Oth," Sofie repeats, looking up at Santana with wide, curious eyes. "Mama, wha' 'Oth?"
Santana cringes at her daughter's immediate call out, and Teresa arches her eyebrows in a way that clearly says it's her own fault for constantly forgetting that their two-year old likes to repeat almost everything they say.
Callie saves her favorite aunt the explanation, all too happy for the opportunity to mentor the younger girl. "Hoth," she repeats, turning to Sofie with an air of patient authority. "It's the frozen world."
Sofia seems to hang on every word, eyes bright. "'Ozen," she repeats dutifully, nodding.
"Not to be confused with the world of Frozen," Quinn can't resist adding before glancing at her wife with a fond smile. "That's what we did last year." Rachel had been the cutest Olaf ever.
Rachel chuckles. "I don't think Sofia remembers last year."
"And that's why we took plenty of pictures and video," Santana declares triumphantly. "We were rockin' our costumes."
"Even though no one knew who you were supposed to be," Quinn reminds her. She certainly hadn't. Santana had had to explain to her why she'd been wearing a terrible, frizzy blond wig, copious amounts of eyeliner and blue eye shadow, and the tightest leather pants known to mankind topped with more frills on her shirt than an Elizabethian dandy in a lace shop, and how all of that had related to Sofie being dressed in a red and white striped onesie that made her look like Waldo while Teresa barely seemed to be wearing a costume at all apart from some hair extensions.
Santana shrugs. "Not my fault you all missed out on a cult classic growing up. I mean, it's David Bowie and muppets. What's not to love?"
In point of fact, Quinn and Rachel had made it a point to dig up Labyrinth and give it a watch after last Halloween, and while it had been fun in a nineteen-eighties kitsch kind of way, it had also been dated and not entirely age appropriate for Calliope until she's at least a few years older. Goblins and baby-stealing are not the most kid-friendly theme.
"I'm sure that's why you loved it. It had nothing at all to do with Jennifer Connelly," Teresa challenges knowingly.
A teenaged one at that. Quinn can definitely see the appeal there.
Santana grins at her wife. "What can I say? She's a very fine actress who has aged very finely."
Unsurprisingly, there are no objections from the room full of lady-loving ladies, but Rachel does cheekily chime in with, "Much like myself."
Teresa and Quinn both laugh, but Santana can't resist jeering. "Ego, much?"
Quinn turns her head so she can ghost a brief kiss across her wife's cheek. "Well, I obviously agree."
Rachel turns into her body, smiling softly as she fingers the collar of Quinn's vest. "You've aged very finely too, baby."
"Dios. That's enough tooth-rotting sweetness outta you two." Santana looks about three seconds away from physically prying them apart. "The only sugar I wanna see tonight is the chocolate kind."
"Yes, candy," Calliope exclaims, raising her lightsaber over her head. She's obviously eager to get on with the night.
Sofie instantly picks up on her excitement and jumps up and down with a squeal. "Can'ny!"
Santana chuckles. "Sí, mi princesa." She swoops down to lift her daughter up into her arms, still managing to make it look effortless. "We're gonna get all the candy."
"And share it with our friends," Teresa warns, proactively attempting to manage Sofie's expectation that she'll actually be able to eat all the candy herself.
"Pfft. No," Santana refutes, bouncing Sofie in her arms, much to the little girl's delight. "They'll have their own."
"Such wonderful values you're teaching our daughter." Teresa shakes her head as she delivers the reprimand, but her expression is wholly amused.
"I'm teaching her equity," Santana argues, nodding her head in Quinn and Rachel's direction. "They've got two times the cute kids so they're already getting double candy. We're starting at a disadvantage."
"You could always have another cute kid to even the playing field," Quinn informs them pointedly. It hasn't escaped her notice how often Santana and Teresa have both tried to get their hands on Celeste for some quality baby time over the last ten months. They both adore their own daughter beyond words, but she's a very active and mobile toddler now, and there's nothing quite like cuddling a baby.
Santana looks like she might seriously consider it, but Teresa doesn't seem quite as eager. "That's a discussion for a much later date." She combs gentle fingers through her daughter's hair. "This one keeps us busy enough right now."
Quinn supposes she can understand Teresa's hesitation. Santana's hours at the hospital can be long and stressful, and Teresa is the one at home with Sofia most of the time. Raising two kids is its own unique kind of stress; a fact that Quinn has firsthand experience with now. She's not sure she could manage it as smoothly if Rachel had gone back to work after a couple of months instead of staying home with her and their girls nearly full time for the last year—though more than one production has tried to woo her back to a stage or a set already. She's starting to get antsy though, enough that Quinn won't be surprised if the next workshop invitation that falls into her wife's line of sight convinces her to finally end her maternity leave.
"True," Santana concedes with only the faintest trace of disappointment that she quickly masks with a wicked grin. "But enough with the chit-chat. It's time to raid the neighbors for treats or threaten to trick 'em if they don't give up the goods."
Callie looks positively gleeful at the notion. "No tricks," Rachel quickly forbids. "We don't punish people for not giving out candy."
Their daughter's face falls into a confused pout. "But we play tricks on April Fools."
Rachel ignores the snickers in the room and turns to Quinn with an accusatory finger. "That's your influence."
Quinn bites back her own laughter and nods in silent (unashamed) agreement before she dutifully bends to address their daughter. "Playing innocent little pranks on Mama once a year is completely different than tricking strangers to get even." She ignores Rachel's weak squawk of protest. "The good guys don't do that."
"And we're the good guys," Callie concludes in understanding.
Grinning, Quinn taps her on the nose. "Exactly."
"Does a Jedi mind trick count as a trick?" she asks, tilting her head curiously. "'Cause you said there could be stormtroopers and they're the bad guys and we're the good guys and the good guys use mind tricks to beat them."
Well, crap. "I tell you what…if we see any stormtroopers, you can let Santana mind trick them."
Santana barks out a laugh. "Yeah, that's totally what I'll do." All the adults in the room know damn well that her version of a mind trick is a very loud, very verbal smackdown. It's oddly even more effective. To Callie, she says, "Don't worry, munchkin. There's way more Ewoks than stormtroopers around here." She carefully slides Sofie down to the floor, keeping hold of one of her hands. "Now let's fly. You and Sofie can be my X-Wingmen on our quest for candy."
"'Kay," Callie agrees easily, already happily dancing in the direction of the door. "Come on, Mommy. Mama. Ya' gotta bring 'Les. We're on a mission to get candy."
Rachel smiles indulgently at their daughter. "Well, we certainly can't jeopardize the mission."
She slips away from Quinn's side, intent on steering the stroller out of the apartment, but Quinn sweeps in, smoothly taking the handles. "Allow me, your worshipfulness."
Rachel laughingly allows her to take over the piloting duties. "My hero." She places a soft kiss of gratitude to Quinn's cheek before she bends down to make sure Celeste is still securely strapped in and bundled up. "Are you ready for your very first Halloween, turtle dove?" she coos, receiving only a delighted squeal in response
Quinn doubts that Celeste has any idea what tonight is all about or why her mama has a weird hairdo, but every first is still momentous, and Quinn is thrilled that they're sharing this one with their friends. After they hit the handful of residents in this building who welcome trick or treaters, they'll take a turn along some of the nearby blocks lined with brownstones that go all out for Halloween.
She and Rachel had briefly entertained the notion of trying to trick or treat in their new neighborhood, but they'd ultimately decided to stick to more familiar stomping grounds. After months of searching for the perfect house in the perfect neighborhood, they'd finally found a recently renovated Tudor with a huge yard in a quiet, tree-lined part of Riverdale that they'd both fallen in love with. It's just removed enough from their neighbors to feel private without being completely isolated, but that positive comes with the negative of their neighborhood being not particularly walkable. No sidewalks, no streetlights, and enough noticeable hills and long driveways make Halloween with two young children feel a little more challenging than they're used to. So they'd packed up their stroller and their daughters and drove their (also brand new) SUV into the city to spend the evening with their best friends.
"Put it into hyperspeed you two," Santana calls back from the door. "Your kid's about to blast right out of here."
Sure enough, Calliope is practically bouncing in the doorway, waiting for someone to open it so she can take off and start collecting candy. "I thought Jedis were supposed to be patient," Teresa chides good-naturedly as she joins them in the foyer, treat bags in hand.
"But I've been waiting a whole year already," Callie whines, making Teresa laugh.
Rachel stops fussing over Celeste and stands. "I can't tell if she actually means that literally or if she's just being dramatic."
"Probably both," Quinn determines with the utmost affection, pushing the stroller forward. "She is your daughter."
Rachel doesn't argue. In fact, she's practically beaming with pride as she falls into step with Quinn. "And she does love Halloween, so we'd better get her some candy or she might just turn to the dark side."
"With Santana around, that's a real possibility."
"Hey. I'm right here," Santana grumbles.
Teresa pats her wife's shoulder soothingly. "Don't worry, Tiger. We all still love you, dark side and all."
Santana seems suitably placated, mouth curling back into a confident grin. "Well, obviously. I'm awesome."
Teresa and Sofia obviously think so, and occasionally Quinn even agrees. None of their other friends go quite this hardcore for Halloween just to make their collective kids happy. Sure, they still needle and snipe at one another whenever they can, but like Santana is so fond of saying—they tease because they love. There's a reason Santana is godmother to both her kids.
"Ready to go, little star?" Rachel asks their daughter.
Callie nods enthusiastically. "Only forever ago."
"Well, then," Quinn drawls, pointing to the door with her best roguish expression. "Punch it."
Santana gives her a pitying look. "Han Solo, you are not." But she takes the direction and opens the door.
It's only Rachel's quick reflexes that have her catching Calliope before she runs out of the apartment ahead of them all. "Don't listen to her, baby." Rachel sends a sweet smile back to Quinn. "You're my very favorite stuck up, half-witted, scruffy- looking nerf herder."
Santana positively cackles as she leads Sofie out of the apartment, and Quinn's mouth drops open in surprise. "That line you remember?"
Rachel's smile turns impish, and she winks at Quinn before guiding their daughter out the door.
"Maybe you should have just gone with the Supergirl thing," Teresa muses with a smirk to rival Santana's.
Quinn considers that, ultimately dismissing it with a shrug. "I can live with scruffy-looking if it means I'm wearing pants."
Laughing, Teresa holds the door for her with a flourish, and they're on their way—four adult women dressed up for their daughters, and maybe a little bit for themselves too. So maybe Quinn had used some of her old tricks to get them all here in these particular costumes. The smiles on everyone's faces are enough to make it worthwhile. They're going to have a fantastic night and get lots of candy and make a wonderful memory for Calliope and Sofia and Celeste, and maybe much later on, after the kids have crashed out in their beds, Quinn and Rachel will get to make even more memories and enjoy a treat or two of their own.
After all, it'd be a shame not to take full advantage of these costumes before they take them off.