Author's Note: A Judy/Fababy/Faberry ficlet by request. Set after the ficlet I'll Pick A Star From the Sky and before the ficlet One Sweet Angel Sleeping In My Arms.

It's been awhile since I've written anything. Unbetaed so all mistakes are my own.

Never Nothing Less Than Beautiful

And when you cry
I'll be there baby
Telling you you're never nothing
Less than beautiful
~Angel Standing By, Jewel

Judy is fully aware that she hasn't been the best mother in the world, but she likes to believe that she's turned out to be a pretty decent grandmother. TJ hasn't seemed to have any complaints so far, even though he's sneaking up on that age when it's really not cool (as they say) to like hanging out with your grandma.

It's still hard with Beth—with the distance and the strangeness of Shelby Corcoran between them—but Judy is trying.

She silently vows that she's going to do so much more than try with the precious little baby girl in her arms right now.

When Quinnie had first announced her second pregnancy to Judy, her joy had been nearly tangible, even through the jumpy connection of the video chat, so Judy could be nothing but happy for her. All of her old, ingrained concerns about her daughter's lifestyle and the difficulties she was inviting and what a family should look like had faded in the light of Quinn's hopeful eyes, quietly begging her mother for a positive response. Judy had found it remarkably easy to give her one.

It had become a little less easy when Quinn had gone on to tell her just how she and Rachel had accomplished the pregnancy.

Judy still doesn't quite understand the mechanics of it all, and frankly, she doesn't want to think too deeply about that part. The whole endeavor had seemed—well—a little bit unnatural.

She'd managed to stop herself from ever saying that to Quinn, thank heavens.

No—Judy had made the conscious decision to not set one single toe down on that path that could have led to losing her daughter all over again, and instead she'd made a promise to herself to support Quinn unconditionally in her pregnancy after failing so spectacularly the first time around.

Still, in the deepest, darkest recesses of her mind, Judy had wondered if she would be able to feel the same way about the baby that Quinn would give birth to as she did about TJ (or even about Beth) when that baby wouldn't truly be Judy's grandchild.

Not by blood.

Right now, gazing down at Calliope Alice Fabray's innocent face framed with tufts of dark hair, Judy can say with absolute certainty that blood doesn't mean a damned thing. Her heart had melted and been reformed with endless caverns of love the very moment her eyes had fallen on her baby girl's baby girl.

"She's absolutely perfect," Judy murmurs in quiet awe, gently rocking her granddaughter in her arms in a soothing rhythm that's recorded deep in the memory of her muscles.

"She really is," Quinn agrees—voice tired and raspy from the hours she'd spent screaming as she'd struggled to bring this perfect little life into the world.

Judy manages to tear her eyes away from the baby to glance at her daughter, who's resting half propped up against Rachel in her hospital bed, exhausted but elated as she watches her own daughter with eyes so full of love. Rachel, looking almost as exhausted with her dark hair scraped into a messy ponytail, is perched gingerly on the mattress next to Quinn, gripping her hand tightly with a dazed smile and stunned expression that hasn't quite begun to fade yet.

It's been an incredibly long day for all of them, and the never-ending parade of family and close friends popping in to catch their first glimpse of baby Calliope has only recently ended for the night, finally allowing Judy the chance to have her new grandbaby (almost) all to herself.

"I'm just so happy she got your nose," Rachel murmurs with a distracted kind of relief.

Quinn chuckles at that, shaking her head. "You know she didn't."

The amused reprimand seems to shake Rachel out of her awe because she's instantly frowning down at Quinn. "I know no such thing," she insists haughtily before turning her determined gaze to Judy. "Judy, don't you think she has Quinn's nose?" There's only the briefest of pauses—not nearly long enough for Judy to form a reply—before Rachel's lips quirk into a teasing grin. "The original one anyway."

An indignant huff slips from Quinn's mouth as she reaches over to lightly pinch Rachel's arm in reprimand. Judy can't help but smile indulgently as she gazes back down at her granddaughter, drinking in her delicate features. "Mm. I do," she agrees after a moment. She knows—of course, she knows—that little Calliope's button nose can be credited to the donor they'd chosen, but they'd chosen so perfectly that Judy can easily allow herself to believe that she's seeing pieces of Quinn in her granddaughter's features, and she's more than happy to play along. "Her chin, too," she decides with a tender smile, gently tracing the tiny cleft that she finds there with the pad of her thumb.

"See. Your mother agrees with me," Rachel boasts triumphantly. "She would know. You obviously managed to pass some of your traits along to our daughter in utero."

"You're ridiculous," Quinn laughingly accuses, but Judy doesn't think she's imagining her daughter's pleasure at the thought.

"Don't laugh. You have a very forceful nature, Quinn Fabray."

"Rachel does have a point there, dear," Judy interjects, feeling a swell of pride in her daughter's indomitable spirit—one she takes no credit for. "In any case, she's beautiful."

Quinn sighs happily, cuddling more deeply into Rachel's side. "I think we can all agree on that."

Rachel nods silently before pressing a kiss to the crown of Quinn's head. Judy only half sees it from the corner of her eye—her immediate attention held captive by the baby in her arms. "You are going to have so much love in your life, my sweet angel. Yes, you are," she coos softly. "You have two strong, accomplished mommies who will do anything for you. And two overprotective grandpas who are going to spoil you rotten," she muses, smiling as she thinks of Hiram and Leroy Berry with all of their fussing and fostering. She tries to ignore the ache in her heart at Russell's woeful inability to offer even a fraction of the same. "I might do a little spoiling too," she whispers conspiratorially, determined to make up for all Russell's failings and give the Berrys (and Shelby Corcoran) a run for their money in the favorite grandparent competition. "Or a lot."

She hears Quinn mutter, "Lord help us," to Rachel, but Judy won't be deterred.

"It's your grandma's right to spoil you, my darling," she informs Calliope quite seriously, ignoring her daughter's chuckle. "Even if it's just with kisses." And because she simply can't resist the lure of soft baby skin, she dips down closer to press a loving kiss to Calliope's forehead. She's rewarded with a soft baby gurgle, and she grins in pleasure.

No. Blood and biology certainly don't matter in the least. This is her grandbaby—now and forever.

"There will never be a day when you don't know what a blessing you are to all of us. I promise you that."

"That's…a really good promise," Quinn says tearfully.

Lifting her head to look at Quinn, Judy can see the trembling smile and warm gaze aimed at her—the hope for a future that's so much happier than their often troubled past. "It's one I intend to keep this time, Lucy Quinn," she vows. Judy might have let Quinn down in the past—Frannie too—but she refuses to squander the second chance she's been given with both of them and their beautiful children. "You've made such a wonderful family," she observes with a proud smile as her eyes move from her emotional daughter to an equally emotional Rachel. "Both of you," she amends kindly, fully accepting that Quinn really couldn't have chosen a better partner in life than Rachel Berry. "I'm so grateful to be part of it."

"You're a really important part, Mom," Quinn promises, pressing an open palm over her heart as she smiles tearfully at Judy, and Judy finds her own eyes are tellingly moist.

Clearing her throat, she glances at Rachel, seeing the woman wiping at her own stray tears with her free hand. "Rachel, dear, would you mind holding your beautiful daughter for a moment so I can hold mine?"

She would hold both of them if she could, but she simply doesn't have enough arms to make that happen safely.

Rachel startles for a moment at the request before nodding jerkily. "Oh…yes. Of course I can do that," she responds, careful to make sure that Quinn is comfortably propped up against her pillow before she slips off the edge of the bed. Judy stands from her chair, carefully walking over to transfer the precious little person in her arms into her mother's care.

"Here let me…um…" Rachel holds her arms out rather awkwardly at first, not quite sure where to put her hands, and Judy chuckles lightly at the display of new parent nerves. She remembers them all too well. Shifting her hold on the baby, she eases Calliope into Rachel's arms until she feels the treasured weight lift away from her and Rachel is left cradling her daughter—though perhaps just a little bit stiffly.

Smiling, Judy pauses to adjust the placement of Rachel's hand under Calliope's head. "Don't worry dear," she offers, laying a reassuring hand on Rachel's shoulder. "You'll get the hang of it soon enough."

A breathless laugh slips past her lips. "Yeah," she agrees with a nod before falling into her daughter's orbit completely.

Quinn is watching them with such undisguised adoration that Judy is almost reluctant to intrude on the moment, but then her glistening eyes move to Judy with a different kind of affection—though no less intense—and Judy understands that her presence isn't an intrusion at all. She cautiously sinks onto the mattress next to her daughter, slipping an arm around Quinn's shoulders and feeling her heart soar even higher when her baby girl snuggles into her side with a quiet, "I love you, Mom."

And oh, those tears are slipping down over Judy's cheeks now too. "I love you too, sweetheart," she murmurs, bringing her other arm around Quinn as best she can with their awkward position and Quinn's undoubted tenderness. She places a soft kiss to Quinn's temple, much as she had with Calliope. "I'm so very proud of you and everything that you've accomplished."

Quinn's arm tightens around Judy's waist. "You're gonna make me cry again," she warns with a wet chuckle while the soft grunts of a fussing baby begin to float through the room.

"There's nothing wrong with happy tears," Judy insists, not attempting to hide her own. Her once broken family is flourishing, and she feels lighter than she has in years.

"I am happy," Quinn tells her. "Now more than ever."

A few steps away, Calliope begins to fuss a little more in Rachel's arms—her grunts escalating to squeals and quickly heading (Judy knows) in the direction of outright wails. "Oh, no," Rachel breathes, attempting to sooth her daughter with bouncing arms and faint hushes. "It's okay, little star. I've got you. Don't cry." One particularly ear-splitting shriek echoes through the room, causing Rachel's eyes to widen in alarm. "Oh, you're crying more," she frets, turning her uncertain gaze to Quinn. "Um…Quinn…baby," she pleads, appearing as though she wants nothing more than to pass the baby to Quinn to fix whatever is wrong.

Judy can sense the subtle tension in Quinn that had grown with her daughter's increasing cries—the innate reaction of a mother sensing her child in distress and feeling every instinct cry out to comfort. She can see the same tension in Rachel coupled with the helplessness of not knowing what her child needs from her right now. Judy stifles her smile, because she remembers feeling the same panic she sees in Rachel's eyes right now every time Frannie had cried in those first few weeks—until she'd learned that it was usually either a demand for food, for a dry diaper, or for attention.

Calliope had had her fill at Quinn's breast less than an hour ago, and her diaper is freshly changed, so Judy can only assume that it's attention she's after—or perhaps just a bit of restlessness in her mother's tentative embrace.

"We're going to have some work to do with her, aren't we?" she muses, tipping her chin towards Rachel as she gives Quinnie a reassuring squeeze. A tiny bit of the tension seems to ease out of Quinn at her mother's light tone—as if Judy's utter lack of panic over the baby's cries somehow reassures her that there's nothing seriously wrong.

Judy is more certain than ever that her decision to stay with them for a week or two is the right one. As ready as they think they are for all the ways their lives have just been forever changed, Judy suspects that they're in for a true revelation once they take Calliope home. Having a few extra hands (and more than a few extra years of experience) can only help them settle into their new reality that much faster.

"She's a pretty quick study though," Quinn comments with a small grin.

Judy laughs lightly, having no doubt of that.

"Oh, you're both hilarious," Rachel mutters with a frown before looking back down to her crying daughter. She awkwardly adjusts her arms around the baby, lifting the tiny body a little more securely against her chest and taking extra care to support Calliope's head. "Shh…Mama's here, pretty girl," she murmurs in a sweet voice as she shifts her weight back and forth beside the bed in a gentle, rocking motion. "Mama's right here," she pledges before beginning to hum a melody that sounds vaguely familiar to Judy, though she can't fully place it.

It only takes a few moments before Calliope's cries begin to quiet again, and Quinn sags against Judy in silent relief. "See…told you she's a quick study," she murmurs proudly as she lovingly watches her wife comfort their daughter.

"Mmm. You did," Judy concedes while observing her daughter-in-law successfully navigate through her first moments of motherhood and assured once again that her Quinnie had chosen the right partner.

Her daughter's little family is going to be just fine, and Judy is thankful to be a part of it.