Author's Note: Apparently, being asked about Faberry's first Halloween as a family of four inspired me to write their almost first Halloween as a family of four. Ficlet set after A Love That's Divine. Currently the last entry on the chronological timeline...for now.

All mistakes are my own.

Beneath An Autumn Sky

The wind blows a little bit colder
And you all look a little bit older
It's time to count our blessings
Beneath an autumn sky.
~Some Things Never Change, Frozen II

"I look ridiculous."

Quinn doesn't even try to hide her grin, but she does refrain from giggling. Laughing at her wife in this moment would be very, very bad for a number of reasons, not the least of which being the disruption of their evening plans with their daughter, who is currently out in the living room, vibrating with unchecked energy and very impatient to get out the door and off to raid every neighbor in the building (and then the block) of their candy.

"You're adorable," Quinn assures her, grin widening as she fully takes in Rachel's outfit.

Rachel's pout intensifies as she looks down at herself, tugging irritably at the material around her middle. "I look like a stack of lumpy marshmallows."

Quinn sinks her teeth into her lower lip, really struggling to contain the laughter now, but then her eyes land on Rachel's belly and it's suddenly very easy to be serious. She can almost feel her expression turn soft, and she closes the distance to her wife, letting her hands find their favorite place on the pronounced curve of her stomach. Beneath her palms, their unborn daughter dances with the same energy as her big sister.

"You look like the lovable snowman you're supposed to be," she assures her wife.

The white adult onesie molds itself to Rachel's body, the flannel material soft and fuzzy and decorated with black patches that look like large coal buttons. The sleeves are brown, and the white hood is topped with the familiar coal eyes and carrot nose of Olaf. Her pregnant belly only adds to the overall effect of the costume.

"Very huggable too," Quinn adds, sliding her hands away from the baby bump and around her wife until Rachel is warmly engulfed in her arms, her hooded head tucked under Quinn's chin. The rough yarn hair on top of the hood only scratches a little, but Quinn would happily stay like this forever, feeling their baby bunny hop around inside Rachel and kick against Quinn's belly.

"I should stay home," Rachel mumbles into Quinn's shoulder.

"And disrupt the family costume?" Quinn exclaims, drawing back to level Rachel with a reproachful look. "You wouldn't dare." Except—her playfulness instantly turns to concern, and she draws back further, examining her wife with worried eyes. "Unless you're not feeling up to it. Is your blood pressure okay?"

Rachel huffs and lifts a hand to give Quinn a weak shove. "My blood pressure is fine, except for being forced into this costume. You checked it yourself an hour ago." Quinn had, and it was acceptably normal for Rachel. The unpleasant bloom of anxiety in her chest dissipates as quickly as it had appeared, but Rachel's frown remains. "I just feel stupid," she whines miserably. Her gaze roams wistfully over Quinn. "You, on the other hand, look perfect."

Quinn reaches up to tug self-consciously at the unfamiliar length of the braid woven into her hair. "I still think I should have been Kristoff." Pants and a leather jacket would be a hell of a lot more comfortable to traipse around in than the flowing blue dress she's currently wearing. At least she gets to wear leggings underneath the skirt. Thank God Frozen II had been at least a little more practical with the character costume designs.

"Stop playing with that," Rachel warns, batting Quinn's hand away from the hair extension that she's currently sporting. "You'll pull it out, and Elsa doesn't have short hair no matter how gay we think she is."

Quinn hums in reluctant agreement, dropping her hand. "Speaking of that, I could do with a trim before Bunny gets here." She's been so busy finishing up her latest book and getting ready for the baby that she'd allowed her hair to grow out to her shoulders again. The top half of her braid is actually hers.

"I kind of like it longer," Rachel murmurs, one corner of her mouth finally turning up into a crooked smile.

Quinn is aware of this—the hands that have been enthusiastically tugging at her hair in their more intimate moments these past weeks are hard to ignore. "I could be persuaded to wait another month," she concedes with a smirk, "but babies have grabby hands, and I'd rather devote my energy to diapers and feedings than doing my hair." She lovingly cups her wife's belly once again. "And I think Bunny would agree."

Rachel covers Quinn's hands with her own and sighs "I concede your point." Her lips twist into a rueful smile. "The one good thing about this horrible costume is that I didn't have to do my hair today."

"You're the one that suggested a family costume," Quinn reminds her.

"That was before Calliope decided she had to be Anna." She glances down at her belly with a frown. "And before I got this big."

"Hey." Quinn gently urges Rachel to look at her again. "I love you like this." She rubs a hand over Rachel's belly. "You've never been more beautiful."

"You're required to say that," Rachel mutters, gaze darting away.

Quinn tries to not let that sting just a little. "You think I'm lying?"

"Embellishing," Rachel corrects with a shrug.

Quinn purses her lips unhappily. "Were you embellishing when I was carrying Calliope?"

Rachel's eyes widen, and she shakes her head emphatically. "Of course not. You were the most beautiful pregnant woman I've ever seen."

She hadn't really expected any other anwer. "I feel the same way about you," she promises tenderly. There's nothing more stunningly beautiful than Rachel Berry Fabray carrying her baby. Her teenage self—well, the one that wasn't a closeted bitch—would have been fucking preening. Oh, who is she kidding? Her current self is preening. Quinn is so proud; so in love; so fucking turned on by Rachel with her body blooming with life. (And her perfect fucking tits are even more perfect right now.) "And you know that," she challenges, arching an eyebrow.

They've had variations of this conversation before. Usually, Rachel is fairly easy to reassure. Quinn imagines it's because she really did find Quinn's pregnancy a turn on and knows how beautiful it can be, and maybe also because this pregnancy is so very precious and wanted. But sometimes, Rachel holds onto the worry that she's somehow less attractive this way; that Quinn somehow desires her less. Quinn understands those worries because she'd experienced them firsthand, and Rachel had always, always eased them with her unwavering devotion. Quinn can only hope that she's doing the same.

"I think I've more than proven how gorgeous and sexy I find you in the last seven months."

Rachel's face turns a lovely shade of pink, and she smiles. "You have," she admits, reaching up to cup Quinn's cheek. Quinn leans in, fully intending to kiss her wife, but the moment is broken by a loud, demanding shout.

"Mommy! Mama! Hurry up," sounds from the hallway, and Quinn jerks away at the unexpected interruption. "We're missing all the candy."

Chuckling, she tips her head towards the door. "Even with multiple interruptions from that one."

Rachel laughs too, her mood seeming to lift. "You have proven very creative in that regard." She sighs again, lovingly stroking Quinn's cheek before she drops her hand to her belly. "I'm just having a moment." She pulls a face, rolling her eyes. "And this outfit isn't helping." Her expression turns appreciative as her eyes roam over Quinn. "Not when you look absolutely gorgeous."

"I'd have looked better as Kristoff," Quinn insists, still pining for those warm pants and comfy boots.

"Quinn," Rachel says sternly, "let it go."

"Funny." Unwilling to be completely twatswatted by their daughter, Quinn steals a fast kiss from her wife. "Come on. Princess Anna is getting impatient." She reaches for Rachel's hand and tangles their fingers together, tugging her towards the (mercifully still closed) bedroom door. "Time to open up the gates and let her out."

"Technically, those are not the proper lyrics," Rachel chides teasingly, "and it's Queen Anna now."

Quinn puffs out an exasperated breath, shooting her wife a pointed look. "Either way, she's a high energy kid who's about to get even higher on sugar. And you're the one who encouraged all of this." She waves her hand back and forth between them, indicating their costumes.

"I thought she'd want to be Rey," Rachel defends haughtily. "She's been on that lightsaber kick since July."

It was true. Their daughter's love of Disney heroines with swords and bows had rapidly progressed to lightsabers when Teresa had introduced her to the Star Wars universe over the summer. They'd been forced to buy her a toy lightsaber with the caveat that she not actually hit anyone or anything with it. Like Rachel, Quinn had figured that would be her costume choice this year, but then Callie had spent an afternoon with Nanna Shelby three weeks ago while Quinn and Rachel had gone to their prenatal checkup. Apparently, there'd been a Frozen movie marathon that involved Shelby singing along with all of the songs (as the women in Rachel's family are wont to do), and that had been that. Callie's previous obsession with Anna and Elsa had been reawakened, much to her mothers' dismay, just in time for Halloween.

Quinn frowns thoughtfully. "Out of curiosity, exactly how was a Star Wars theme going to be better for you in terms of costumes?" Rachel had never said exactly what she was planning when she'd insisted on a family costume, but as with most things Rachel wanted, Quinn had agreed to it anyway.

Rachel glares at her. "I will have you know, Quinn Fabray, that I had a very cute BB-8 mini-dress already picked out. The skirt would have just flowed over all this," he gestures to her belly, "in a very flattering way."

It's not hard to picture what Rachel had intended, and Quinn runs her tongue across her lips at the mental image of her wife in a mini-dress. Rachel always looks really good in those. It's a damn shame that her plans had gotten iced—pun very much intended.

"What was I going to be?" Quinn can't help wondering.

Rachel leans into her, grinning wickedly. "You'd have made a very handsome Han Solo."

More pants and comfy boots—and the chance to show off her swagger. "Damn it." She frowns at Rachel. "I hate your mother."

Rachel laughs, shaking her head. "I'm not her biggest fan either right now."

"Mommy!" There's uneven pounding on the door. "Mama! It's been for-ehhhf-er," Callie whines, drawing out the word for maximum effect, "and we're missing the whoooole Halloween."

"So dramatic," Quinn whispers, grinning at her wife. "She gets that from you."

Rachel shrugs, unrepentant. "Yeah."

Chuckling, Quinn opens the door and is greeted by the sight of their daughter, dressed pristinely—despite all the pacing and jumping and pounding—in a perfect replica of Anna's black and yellow dress and purple cloak from Frozen II. Rachel really had gone above and beyond with the costumes, especially on such short notice. Even her own poor, maligned Olaf onesie is on point.

"Your highness," she greets with a radiant smile and an extravagant bow before rising and making a show of glancing down the hallway over Callie's head. "Have you seen my daughter?"

Callie giggles in delight, throwing herself at Quinn and hugging her around her waist. "I'm right here, Mommy." She gazes up at Quinn with a grin. "You look so pretty."

"Why thank you, Princess Anna."

"Ahem," Rachel grunts, nudging Quinn in the back.

Quinn takes the hint with grace. "Oh, forgive me. Queen Anna."

Callie shakes her head. "No. You can be queen, Mommy. Anna was better when she was a princess. She was the hero."

Grinning, Quinn glances at Rachel over her shoulder. "Well, we can't argue with that."

Rachel sighs, shaking her head before stepping to Quinn's side to smile down at their daughter. "Are you ready to go, little star?"

"I've been ready, Mama." She puts her hands on her hips and looks up at them with a serious expression. "I was waiting for you."

"I'm so sorry," Rachel apologizes with a grin. "It took a while for mama to fit into this costume." She gestures to her belly, not above using their unborn child to get herself out of trouble. The truth is that Rachel had gotten dressed quickly enough after getting Calliope into her costume. She just hadn't wanted to wear it once she'd seen it on.

Callie seems appeased, grinning as she reaches up a small hand to touch the underside of Rachel's belly. "Is Baby getting candy too?"

"She might get a piece or two if you don't mind." Which means that Rachel is probably going to indulge in some of their daughter's loot tonight. It's a good thing she gave up being vegan all those years ago with the way she's been craving chocolate and peanut butter. The only craving she still hasn't given into is meat, but Quinn won't be all that surprised if she sneaks some turkey next month.

"I can share," Callie promises, gently patting her mother's stomach. Then she turns her attention back to Quinn and tugs at her dress. "Mommy, make the magic snow so Mama and Baby don't melt."

Quinn furrows her brows. "Callie, sunshine, you know that's not really a thing."

Callie's hands go back to her hips again, and she stomps her foot. "Well, duh. You're 'posed to pretend. We're in character."

"Okay, one," Quinn says, turning to Rachel, "she is absolutely your daughter," to which Rachel only smiles proudly, "and two, she is spending way too much time with Santana." She's the only one they know (other than Brittany) that still occasionally uses 'duh' like they're all still in junior high.

"Mommy, play along," Callie demands, tugging her dress again.

"Yes, Quinn…or rather Elsa," Rachel teases, touching her shoulder lightly. "Work your ice queen magic."

Quinn frowns suspiciously, wondering if the ice queen thing is a playful dig at her long ago reputation, but she lets it go. "The things I do," she grumbles good-naturedly before waving her hands over Rachel's head. "There. You've been frozen."

Rachel winks. "The cold never bothered me anyway."

Quinn snorts out a laugh. "I think that's my line."

"Oh right." Rachel loops one arm around Quinn's biceps and reaches down with her free hand to stroke Callie's hair affectionately. "In any case, you're both worth melting for."

Calliope hugs Rachel's hip—one arm flung under her belly and the other on her butt. She'd given up trying to get her arms any further around Rachel over a month ago. "Warm hugs," she giggles.

Rachel laughs, giving their daughter a hug right back. "You're the best hug-giver in the world."

Quinn bumps her shoulder into Rachel's. "I am too, right?"

"A close second," she declares, then drops her voice and leans a little closer, Callie still held against her side. "But you can try for first later."

There's nothing that Quinn would enjoy more. "Treats all around," she promises, wagging her eyebrows and making her wife giggle around her pretty blush.

"That's enough hugging," Callie decides then, slipping out of Rachel's loose hold and grabbing to pull at both of their hands. "Time to go get candy."

Laughing, Quinn bows to her daughter. "As her highness commands." She grips Callie's hand securely with one of her own while coaxing the girl's other hand to let go of Rachel. It's not that she'd be able to move her mother very far with the tugging, but Quinn would rather Calliope focus all of her rambunctious energy on her just to be extra safe. "Come on princess, let's get your treat bag and go collect your royal tributes."

Callie cheers, practically skipping ahead of Quinn as she leads her down the hall with Rachel following carefully behind. Her wife's little waddle has gotten increasingly more pronounced in the last several weeks and is even more adorable in the snowman suit, but Quinn keeps that opinion safely to herself. She's secretly glad that Rachel's costume is at least cozy and warm and that she gets to wear comfortable white sneakers while Quinn is stuck in heeled boots. Rachel really had gone all out with the costume details.

"Can Ollie come too?" Calliope asks excitedly when they reach the living room. "He can be Sven. He's got antlers."

Quinn glances at Oliver, stretched out lazily on the chair. "I don't think he'd enjoy that very much." She lets go of Callie's hand so her daughter can collect her bag. "You know he wouldn't keep those on for more than ten seconds last Christmas."

"Which is a shame, because he's adorable in them," Rachel laments, looking at Oliver sadly. "One of these years I will get that photograph."

"Hey, Rach." Quinn waits for her wife to look her way and smirks. "Let it go." She only sings it a little bit.

Rachel only grins. "At least you're finally getting in the spirit of your costume."

"I got my bag," Callie announces, holding up the brown cloth trick-or-treat bag that somehow resembles Anna's travel bag from the second movie. Quinn has no idea where Rachel even found it, though she strongly suspects that her wife convinced Kurt to make it for his honorary niece.

Quinn has to admit that they all look pretty good. "I guess we're ready to go then." She glances at Rachel, reaching one hand out to her. "Come on, Olaf. Time to go…into the unknown."

Rachel takes Quinn's hand with a laugh. "I can hear you, but I won't."

"Can you sing it, Mama?" Callie begs excitedly, jumping up and down.

With a smile, Rachel reaches down to smooth their daughter's bangs. "Well, maybe just the chorus as we make our dramatic exit into the hallway," she offers, letting go of Quinn's hand as she walks towards the door. "We don't want to disturb the neighbors too much before we go demanding candy from them, do we?"

Callie shakes her head rapidly. "No, we want the candy."

"She has her priorities in order," Quinn points out with a grin, taking Callie's hand again. They may only be hitting their own building first, but she doesn't want their daughter running off and pounding on doors before she and Rachel can catch up. There are certain neighbors they've learned to avoid. More importantly, Rachel is moving a little slower these days out of caution and to compensate for her new center of gravity. Quinn remembers the awkwardness of late pregnancy all too well.

"I suppose I can share the spotlight with candy for one day." Rachel curls her hand around the doorknob, looking at Calliope and Quinn in turn. "Are we ready?"

"Yes," Callie shouts, and Quinn laughingly nods in the affirmative.

"Well then," Rachel announces dramatically before she belts out, "Into the unknown. Into the unkno-own." She throws the door open and steps back, gesturing for Quinn and Callie to go ahead of her. "Into the unkno-oh-oh-own."

Laughing, they file out of their apartment on a quest for candy with Rachel still singing as she closes the door behind her. Not a single one of the neighbors on their floor seems surprised by the costume choice, but they all compliment them on nailing the theme. Quinn is delighted to be proven right when every single one of them tells Rachel that her costume is adorable and that she's glowing, "More than Olaf in summer," Mr. Ambrose from 2A jokes.

By the time they get home, weighed down with several pounds of candy and sweet treats, Rachel is a very happy snowman. She's even happier after they wrangle a sugared-up (but not too much) Calliope into bed and retire to their bedroom, where Quinn peels off Rachel's onesie and proceeds to thoroughly reclaim her top spot at hugging—and various other unmentionable things. There's a baby present, after all, which makes Quinn a very happy snowman too.