Author's Note: Mother's Day ficlet set about a year after Something In Your Eyes Is Makin' Such A Fool of Me.

Kissed By the Sun Each Morning

I get kissed by the sun each morning
Put my feet on a hardwood floor
I get to hear my children laughing
Down the hall through the bedroom door
~Blessed, Martina McBride

Consciousness creeps into her dreams with a hazy sort of urgency, poking at her brain like a forgotten chore. The first thing that registers is the warm body of her wife curled into her and the faint scent of citrus clinging to dark hair as it tickles her nose. The second thing that registers is the awareness that it's Sunday. Quinn sighs in happiness, snuggling closer to Rachel with the intention of allowing her body to drift back to sleep for another hour or two—at least until the unmistakable sound of a door closing interrupts her lazy semi-slumber.

Her eyes instantly pop open as awareness races through her blood, waking her fully. The sun is just barely peeking through the closed blinds, but there is unmistakably someone (much bigger than Oliver) up and moving around the apartment, so she reluctantly turns her head away from its comfortable position on the pillow to blurrily stare at the clock.

7:13.

"Seriously?" she whispers, barely stifling her groan.

Callie really needs to lose this early-rising habit she's gotten into on the weekends. She's almost as bad as Rachel used to be. Quinn's sigh this time is one of resignation as she attempts to extricate herself from Rachel as carefully and quietly as possible so she can go check on their daughter. She's actually surprised Callie hasn't already come barging in here to bounce on the bed and wake them up the way she has so many times, but she's certainly grateful for the reprieve. Rachel really needs the extra sleep.

An irrepressible grin blooms on Quinn's lips when she thinks about why, and she has to resist the urge to curl back into Rachel, slip a hand beneath her t-shirt, and just lie here and hold her all day because she knows their daughter isn't about to let that happen. The audible scraping of furniture across their hardwood floors is proof of that, and Quinn's smile fades as the question of what Callie is up to takes precedence in her mind. She drags her still-sleepy ass out of bed, grabs her glasses, and spares one fond glance at her softly snoring wife before she pads out of the bedroom on the way to check on Callie.

The second she steps into the hallway, she can hear Ollie mewling his demands to be fed, and Quinn hurries her pace in the hope of preventing Callie from dumping the whole container of cat food into his bowl (and all over the kitchen floor) like she tends to do.

When she's in view of the kitchen, she freezes for moment, feeling her heart lurch in fear when she spots her four year-old daughter standing precariously on a chair as she opens the overhead cabinet. She's just about to race the rest of the way over and find out what Callie thinks she's doing when her daughter's soft words to Oliver begin to register.

"You have to be quiet, Ollie. Mama and Mommy are sleeping and I wanna surprise them with breakfast. It's Mommies Day today. I'll feed you after."

Quinn presses a hand to her smiling lips, suddenly torn between the need to stand watch over Callie and the desire to tip-toe back into the bedroom and let their daughter surprise them for Mother's Day. So she stays where she is, stepping back just enough to stay mostly hidden around the corner while she peeks out to watch Callie successfully (though a bit loudly) maneuver two bowls down from the cabinet. Callie carefully climbs down from the chair, noisily pushing it across the floor a little until it's under the cabinet with the cereal, and Quinn cringes at the thought of the possible scratches to her flooring, but she decides to worry about that later.

She's still watching over Callie, grinning at the little pink tongue poking out from between her lips in concentration while she kneels on the chair and pours the cereal—thank God she'd picked the corn flakes over her Lucky Charms—when Quinn hears the bedroom door open again, and she quickly whips around and races back down the hall in time to catch Rachel shuffling out of the room.

Rachel's eyes widen when she sees Quinn jogging towards her, and her mouth opens to speak, but Quinn slides to a stop in front of her and presses a hand to her lips with an urgent, "Shhh."

Rachel's eyebrows furrow as her eyes narrow. "Winn," she mumbles from beneath Quinn's fingertips.

"Callie is trying to surprise us with breakfast," Quinn whispers, dropping her hand. "It's the cutest thing."

Rachel's eyes widen under arched eyebrows. "Is that what all the noise is?" she whispers back.

Quinn nods. "Sorry," she practically mouths.

Rachel grins, shrugging. She silently points down the hall, indicating that she wants to see, and Quinn nods, smiling back. But before Rachel even takes a step, Quinn stops her with a hand on her arm, pointing down to her midsection with a questioning look.

Rachel rolls her eyes. "We're fine," she promises quietly, reaching up to stroke Quinn's cheek tenderly. "Just a little queasy."

"Lucky," Quinn murmurs, a little jealous that Rachel seems to be dodging the persistent morning sickness that Quinn had experienced with her pregnancies. She'd been racing for the bathroom to puke her guts out by this time with both Callie and Beth, but at nine weeks, Rachel has only actually thrown up once, though she's felt mildly nauseous on and off just about every day. But Quinn supposes she's due for a break since she'd had an even rougher IVF cycle this time than she'd had when they were getting Quinn pregnant with Callie, and then—well, Quinn is just so grateful that things seem to be going really well now and that Rachel is starting to feel more confident about her pregnancy.

"Don't jinx me," Rachel warns lowly, playfully poking Quinn in the side before she steps around her to go see what their firstborn is up to. Quinn follows behind her, hoping that they haven't alerted Callie to their presence just yet.

Rachel comes to a stop in the same spot that Quinn had been standing earlier, poking her head around the corner to spy on their daughter, and Quinn presses into her back, wrapping one arm around Rachel's waist and anchoring the other against the wall as she stretches up onto her toes to peer over the top of Rachel's head.

The milk carton is still sitting out on the counter, and Callie is currently making a mess with the orange juice being messily poured into two glasses, but she's absolutely adorable doing it. Quinn can't even care that she's going to have such a mess to clean up later.

Rachel lifts a hand to her mouth, and Quinn worries for a second that maybe she is going to be sick this morning after all, but then Rachel is turning around with tears glistening in her eyes and a look of absolute adoration on her face, and Quinn understands. That's their kid in there—making them their Mother's Day present with her own two hands. Or trying to anyway.

Quinn is feeling a bit tearful herself as she smiles affectionately at Rachel.

Rachel manages to compose herself, wiping away the moisture beneath her eyes. "We should go back to bed," she whispers, giving Quinn's hip a little pat.

"Go ahead. I'm just gonna," Quinn gestures to the corner, intending to keep watch in case Callie ends up dropping something.

Rachel gives her an exasperated look, shaking her head. "Don't let her see you," she warns lowly.

Quinn arches a brow, a little insulted that Rachel would doubt her stealth. "I've got this," she mouths, winking at her wife before she leans in to brush a soft kiss over her lips.

Once Rachel retreats to their bedroom, Quinn creeps back to the corner and takes note of Callie's progress. Two bowls of cereal, two spoons, two glasses of orange juice (that Quinn knows Rachel probably can't quite stomach just yet), and she apparently found the container of strawberries that Quinn had cut yesterday.

Quinn almost breaks her promise not to let their daughter see her when Callie practically crawls into the cabinet under the sink after finally feeding Ollie because she's coming out with the folding lap tray, and all Quinn can picture is a giant mess of broken bowls and glasses on the floor if Callie actually attempts to serve them breakfast in bed. But she bites into her lip and stubbornly holds her position as she watches Callie set up the tray on the floor before carefully moving both bowls, one at a time, down onto the tray and then placing the glasses and strawberries there too. Then she pulls something else off the counter to place on the tray—Quinn thinks maybe it's a napkin—and Quinn holds her breath as Callie picks up the tray, making sure she has it balanced with a determined expression, before she starts to turn.

And then Quinn is racing down the hallway again, careful to leave the bedroom door ajar just enough for their daughter to be able to push it open, before she practically leaps into bed next to Rachel, throwing her glasses on the nightstand.

"Quinn?"

"Pretend you're sleeping," Quinn hisses out, tugging the sheet up over them.

Rachel giggles a little, and Quinn shushes her again, closing her eyes and willing her body to relax. Thankfully, Rachel proves that she actually deserves every single one of her acting awards by immediately going still and quiet next to her. Quinn's heart continues to race, however, and she half expects to hear a crash before Callie will start sobbing, but to her relief, there's nothing but the sound of shuffling feet and the slight rattling of glassware before Callie is standing next to the mattress.

"Mommy. Mama. I made breakfast," she announces at a volume that she absolutely inherited from Rachel.

Quinn takes a deep breath, making a show of stretching as she opens her eyes and turns her head toward Callie. Rachel shifts on the mattress next to her, pulling off a very convincing (or quite possibly real) yawn. Quinn locks her eyes on her daughter, taking note of the fact that the tray has actually survived the journey relatively unscathed. There are a few drops of milk on it and a tiny puddle of orange juice, but it's otherwise intact. She has to admit—she's pretty impressed.

Quinn pushes herself up on the mattress, eyes wide as she reaches for her glasses. "Oh wow. You made breakfast?" she repeats, acting surprised.

"Uh huh," Callie answers proudly, nodding her head.

"Oh, how sweet," Rachel coos as she sits up next to Quinn, smiling tearfully at their daughter.

"Happy Mommies Day, Mommy. Happy Mommies Day, Mama."

Quinn feels her own eyes grow damp, and there's absolutely no acting involved. "Thank you so much, sunshine. Here," she holds out her hands as she leans toward her daughter. "Let me take that tray." Callie ever-so-carefully lifts it higher and moves it into Quinn's waiting hands with the widest, proudest smile, and Quinn nearly loses her breath at how much she looks like Rachel in that moment. She manages to transfer the tray onto her lap without incident, looking down at the already soggy cereal with a lump in her throat. "This looks so amazing," she gushes with a wide smile.

Next to her, Rachel echoes, "It does," despite the fact that she'd probably much rather have a piece of toast. She holds her own arms open for their daughter. "Get up here so I can hug you, little star," she urges, and Callie doesn't need any further invitation. She skips over to the end of the bed, knowing better than crawl over Quinn with the tray there, and scampers up onto the mattress between her mothers. Rachel instantly pulls Callie into her arms with happy tears streaming down over her cheeks. "I love you so much," she murmurs, kissing the top of Callie's head.

Callie giggles happily. "I love you, Mama," she echoes, giving Rachel a sloppy kiss on her cheek before turning to Quinn. "And I love you, Mommy," she says, squirming away from Rachel to give Quinn a sloppy kiss of her own that makes Quinn's heart soar with joy. "You're the bestest mommies ever," Callie declares, reaching over to pick up the piece of paper that's tucked onto the corner of the tray. "I even made a card that says so," she announces, holding it out for Quinn to take.

"You did?" Quinn asks in delight, taking the homemade card with an elated smile.

"I did," Callie confirms very seriously. "Read it, Mommy."

The card is made out of pink construction paper with a red, bedazzled heart right in the middle and glitter covered letters spelling out Happy Mommies Day, and Quinn chuckles as she holds it up for Rachel to see. Rachel's eyes sparkle with happy tears as she presses her fingers to her grinning lips, looking as tickled by it as Quinn feels. "Happy Mommies Day," Quinn recites, choosing not to mention the misspelling or the missing apostrophe. Even so, she knows Callie had probably needed some help with this and wonders which one of their friends or family members had manned the glue and the glitter.

"Open it," Callie demands, practically bouncing on the mattress between them.

Still smiling, Quinn opens the card obediently, and when her brain registers what she's reading in her daughter's shaky, crayon scripted handwriting, her words come out more than a little choked up. "I am so lucky I get to have two. I love you forever, mommy and mama. Love Callie."

Quinn sniffles, wiping away a stray tear as she hands the card to Rachel to read for herself. "We love you forever, too, honey," she promises, snaking an arm around Callie's shoulders to hug her close and brush a kiss to her sweet cheek—careful not to topple the tray she'd worked so hard to prepare.

Rachel sniffles too. "You're the best daughter in the world," she says through her tears, somehow managing to hug them both even while she reverently holds onto the card.

Quinn feels so incredibly blessed in this moment, wrapped up in the warmth of her family with the certainty that by next year her blessings will have doubled. Between them, Callie giggles happily, and it's best Mother's Day gift of all.