Author's Note: A Mother's Day ficlet by request. Set about a week before Forget The Wrong That I've Done.
An Angel Growing Peacefully
Oh Capri, she's a beauty
There is an angel growing peacefully.
~Capri, Colbie Caillat
In her dreams, kittens dance across mountains of ice cream. This seems perfectly normal and logical to her. She watches them with a smile, there but not there. At some point the ice cream melts away and one of the kittens transforms into Ollie. He's kneading insistently at her stomach and yowling—that one meow that screams feed me, human.
Quinn stirs, pulled from her sleep just enough to flop a hand onto her stomach in an attempt to shoo the cat away, but instead of fur, she feels only the firm swell of her cotton covered belly. Beneath her palm, the gentle flutters continue and her conscious mind realizes that her daughter is already awake and attempting to get her attention. Her lips curve beatifically, and she gently stretches as she shifts on the mattress, feeling the warmth of the sun streaming in through the window. Her eyes open to a bright Sunday morning, and she rubs a soothing circle on her belly as she rolls her head on the pillow, blurry gaze searching out her wife.
She frowns when she sees that the other side of the bed is empty, only wrinkled sheets where Rachel should be. The clock on the nightstand tells her that it's still early—earlier that Rachel usually gets up on a Sunday, especially after her late evening show on Saturday—but she can hear Oliver's eager demands for attention filling the apartment, and, more importantly, she catches the faint scent of something resembling a cooking attempt in the air.
Quinn pushes up on her elbows, ungracefully sitting up against the headboard and reaching for her glasses with the intent of finding out what Rachel is up to. She's been attempting to do more of the cooking ever since Quinn got pregnant, and while she's definitely improved over the years, there are still enough occasional kitchen disasters to make Quinn wary of leaving her alone for too long. But before she can even put her feet on the floor, Rachel is slipping through the bedroom door with a tray in her hands and wearing an oversized t-shirt that barely covers anything of importance.
"Oh, you're already awake," she notes with a slight pout as she shuffles to the bed, juggling the tray as she sits down on the edge next to Quinn. The t-shirt rides up, exposing barely there red panties and an abundance of glorious tan skin. "I was really hoping to be able to wake you up with kisses," she adds with a grin before carefully leaning over to brush a gentle kiss over Quinn's lips.
Quinn hums in approval, raising a hand to cup Rachel's cheek as two distinctly different appetites awaken inside her. Rachel pulls away, smiling as she offers the tray to Quinn, and Quinn pats down the sheets while Rachel moves to place the tray over her lap. A cup of coffee—decaffeinated, of course—and a plate of French toast (that Rachel has finally mastered) accented by strawberries and real bacon await her, and she's just about to ask what the occasion is when Rachel murmurs, "Happy Mother's Day, baby."
Quinn's breath hitches. It's not that she'd forgotten it was Mother's Day—she just hadn't fully processed that she has a reason to celebrate this year beyond the painful reminder that her first born daughter will always call another woman Mom. Her hand presses to her belly again, seeking out the physical proof that she's soon going to have a little girl that will call her Mom—her and Rachel both-and her eyes glisten with happy tears. "Happy Mother's Day, Rach," she whispers back, watching Rachel's smile tremble with emotion.
Rachel chuckles wetly, wiping at her own suspiciously glittering eyes. "It still doesn't feel completely real to me," she admits.
"That's because you're not the one she's practicing her dance moves inside of," Quinn reminds her wryly.
Rachel's grin widens, and her hand predictably seeks out the swell of Quinn's belly. "Did you wake Mommy up before I could?" she asks Quinn's bump.
Quinn presses her own hand over Rachel's, guiding it a little to the left where their daughter is still moving. "She did."
"You just wanted to to be the first to wish her a happy Mother's Day, didn't you?" she coos, and Quinn can feel her eyes grow moist again. Damn hormones!
"Or maybe she was missing Mama," Quinn points out. "We usually wake up with you holding us."
Rachel smiles apologetically. "I wanted to surprise you with breakfast." She looks pointedly at the tray. "I even cooked the dead pig for you."
Quinn laughs. "And we appreciate it."
"So eat," Rachel orders, reluctantly tearing her hand away from Quinn's body. "Before it gets cold."
Quinn dutifully picks up her fork, frowning when Rachel stands up. "Aren't you joining me."
"In a minute," Rachel promises before she scurries back out of the room. Quinn sighs and digs into her meal, suddenly starving.
Rachel returns a few minutes later with a cup of coffee and Oliver circling her feet, and she gently slips back into her side of the bed, followed by a much less gentle Ollie, who Rachel quickly corrals away from Quinn and her breakfast.
"Aren't you eating?" Quinn questions.
Rachel's lips quirk into a half smile. "I already did. The first two pieces were a little crispy," she admits with a familiar sigh of grudging acceptance that Quinn finds endearing—though she finds Rachel watching her eat a little less so. Still, they pass the next few minutes in comfortable silence interspersed with the usual small talk about Quinn's plans for the day and whether or not Rachel should attempt to come home between her shows.
Before long, Rachel's coffee cup is set aside, and she takes Quinn's now empty breakfast tray and places it neatly on the floor, giving Ollie an unexpected treat as he hops down and happily laps at the remaining traces of maple syrup. Rachel snuggles into Quinn's side, laying her head against Quinn's shoulder. "I wish I could spend the whole day here with you."
"Next year," Quinn offers, reminding Rachel of her promise to take some time off to be with Quinn and the baby after she finishes her contract with Confessions.
"Next year," Rachel vows with a determined nod.
Quinn closes her eyes, letting herself enjoy the lazy morning and smiling when she feels Rachel's hand begin to trace gentle circles over her belly as she hums quietly. Then Quinn's breath catches when Rachel begins to sing—so softly and gently that it brings tears to Quinn's eyes once again.
"She's got a baby inside,
and holds her belly tight,
all through the night,
just so she knows,
she's sleeping so
safely to keep her growing.
And oh, when she'll open her eyes,
there will be no surprise
that she'll grow to be
so beautifully,
just like her mother, that's carrying."
Rachel's lips ghost across Quinn's cheek, and Quinn turns to gaze at her wife.
"Oh Capri, she's beauty.
Baby inside, she's loving.
Oh Capri, she's beauty
There is an angel growing peacefully.
Oh Capri, sweet baby."
Rachel threads the fingers of her other hand into Quinn's hair—all the love in her heart shining through her eyes as she continues to serenade Quinn and their unborn daughter.
"Things will be hard at times,
but I've learned to try,
just listening, patiently."
"Oh Capri, sweet baby
Oh Capri, she's beauty
Baby inside, she's loving.
Oh Capri, your beauty.
Just like your mother, that's carrying."
"I really love you, you know," Quinn breathes through her tears.
Rachel grins. "Well, you are having my baby. It really is a lovely way to say how much you love me."
Quinn lightly slaps her arm. "Don't you dare go there."
Rachel laughs, hugging Quinn closer and pressing another kiss to her cheek. "I really, really love you, too, baby. Both of you. With all of my heart."
And Quinn knows in her heart that this is only the first of many very happy Mother's Days to come.