Chapter Text
Quinn almost regrets the whole thing the moment she steps into Shelby Corcoran’s house. The place is an explosion of holiday spirit, with people mostly dressed in ugly sweaters roaming around the small apartment complex. And the first person she sees, besides the man that opens the door and ushers her in, is Puck. He’s hard to miss because he’s always wearing that damn military uniform Quinn knows so well.
Now, she already knew that Puck was invited to this party, it only makes sense considering they’re both Beth’s biological parents, but things between them have been tense ever since the break-up. Puck had always harbored hope that they were meant for each other –he had said she was the only woman he could see a future with– but there’s not a lot to be done after Quinn blurted her coming-out in the most hurtful way possible.
Yeah, telling the guy she was with that it made her sick every time she tried to sleep with him was not her brightest idea. Santana had cackled her ass off when she heard about it, and said that Quinn had basically annihilated his soul.
She seriously doubts that’s the case, given that it took Puck a couple of months to find himself a new girlfriend. One that Quinn had to hear about during a phone call that Puck made while completely drunk.
Meanwhile, Quinn still struggles with her sexuality. Turns out, coming to terms with being gay doesn’t automatically mean she knows how to get a date with another woman, let alone maintain a relationship.
There’s something about Santana being the only person she’s ever slept with that made her feel comfortable, that doesn’t sit well with Quinn. It’s not as if she could pursue anything with Santana –who’s happily married to Brittany– and she’s not sure she would want to even if it were a possibility.
Clearly, loneliness is not a problem that Puck has, and she really resents him for it. Everything seems to come easy to him. Even the natural way in which he always interacts with Beth and Shelby, as if he belongs , effortlessly. Despite the fact that he has slept with Shelby years ago. God, the nerve of those two...
But she makes the effort to smile, because Beth is somewhere around this sea of people, and she’s the person Quinn came to see.
Even though it involves dealing with her ex-boyfriend or whatever, on top of having to meet with the woman Quinn once called a cash whore to her face.
The man who opened the door introduces himself, a friend of Shelby’s whose name Quinn doesn’t care enough to memorize. She presents herself as Shelby’s ex-student, as she always does when someone asks, even though technically that never happened.
Quinn had tried to be part of the Troubletones, so the explanation is almost true.
She doesn’t get any more follow-up questions because Beth shows up, her voice suddenly calling out Quinn’s name.
The man disappears, everything disappears, Quinn can’t be sure because something funny always happens when she sees Beth. Her heart jumps and seems to travel all the way to her throat and she gets nervous to the point of not knowing what to say, terrified that this seven-year-old that once took residence in her womb would think Quinn’s a pathetic idiot.
Beth makes a beeline towards her, a blue dress standing out amongst a world of green and red and big shiny brown eyes meeting hers. Quinn squats to be at eye level and she doesn’t have to fake a smile, because it overtakes her whole face.
“Hi, Beth, happy holidays.” Quinn speaks softly, yet loud enough to be heard over the incessant Christmas music.
Beth smiles shyly, “Hello, Quinn. I like your hair.” She says as she reaches to touch the tresses that fall on the woman’s shoulder.
Quinn laughs happily, she has been growing her hair out for some time, and most importantly, she has gone back to her natural auburn-ish color.
Beth grabs the side braid she’s sporting. “It’s just like mine!”
She could cry.
Because the thing is, Beth knows about the adoption and she knows who her biological parents are. Shelby had decided to be as transparent as she could be regarding everything, wanting Beth to have a relationship with both Quinn and Puck, and even though she came to regret it a few times during senior year, she stuck to her word.
And so Beth is aware of why exactly they share so many physical traits. Quinn revels in those similarities because personality wise, they don’t share too much. Beth can be shy, but all in all, she seems carefree in a way that Quinn can’t remember ever being. It’s moments when she sees the girl talk to Shelby without any sort of fear or hesitation that Quinn can overlook every single painful thing about this whole deal and breathe.
She made the right choice.
“Quinn, you made it.” Shelby’s voice comes from above and Quinn glances up. The woman looks a little out of breath, a tray of something in hand as if she had been caught doing rounds as a proper host.
“Shelby.” She greets politely, aiming for it to sound warm and barely achieving it. “Happy holidays, thank you for inviting me.”
“Of course!” Shelby waves her off, clearly a better performer than Quinn is. “Beth, show her where to put her coat and then bring her to the kitchen for a hot drink, okay?” She instructs with a soft squeeze on her daughter’s shoulder.
Beth takes a hold of her hand and pulls her further into the apartment, leading her all the way into what she assumes it’s Shelby’s bedroom, where there’s a hanger rack with wheels in action.
She takes her coat off, hangs it neatly along with her purse and decides there’s no better time for her to give Beth the present she brought.
“For me?”
“Yes, for you.” Quinn’s nerves kick in again, because gifts for kids can be a bit of a hit or miss situation, and you never want to see their disappointed expressions if it’s a miss.
Beth unwraps the present quickly and reveals the book Quinn had chosen. It’s the second installment of Good Night Stories for Rebel Girls and it causes Beth to squeal happily.
“I didn’t know there was a second one! Thanks Quinn!”
If the kid gets so excited by a book, then maybe they have more in common than she thought.
Beth goes to hug her and it melts every bit of ice that could still be chipping at Quinn’s heart.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” She whispers, forcing herself not to cry.
“Wait!” Beth disengages herself from Quinn. “Mom says we always need to ask before hugging someone. Is it okay if I hug you?”
Quinn nods, opens her arms again for the child to step into the embrace again.
For all of Shelby’s faults, Quinn can agree with a lot of her parenting choices. “Your mom is right, it’s very important that we ask and nobody can force you to hug anyone you don’t want, okay?”
Beth squeezes her tighter and Quinn savors it, wishing she could capture the feeling and put it into a jar for whenever she needs a pick-me-up.
They exit the bedroom, Beth still holding her hand when out of the blue Puck swoops in and lifts the child into his arms.
“How’s my baby doll?”
Quinn wants to grab his head and shove it against the wall for interrupting. “Puckerman.”
“Oh, hey Quinn.” It’s dismissive as it can be, and she will not allow this to happen with Beth in the middle.
“Beth, why don’t you go show your mom what I’ve got you? Mhm? Puck, a word?”
He puts Beth down and crosses his arms until the little girl effectively leaves them on their own. They stand in front of the bedroom door where there’s some people around, but Quinn only cares that Beth is not there to witness what’s about to go down.
“Can you please not call her misogynistic crap like ‘baby doll’?” She hisses near his ear, catching a whiff of his cologne. It brings back memories of being with him and she needs to take a step back.
Quinn hates having to deal with Puck.
“Don’t start with your feminist college bullshit, jeez.” He rolls his eyes.
She sees red and it’s a miracle she doesn’t punch him. “She’s a little girl and it would be great if you could be a decent example for how men are supposed to behave with her.”
“Quinn, she’s seven and I’m her dad–”
“You’re not her dad .” Her voice goes dangerously low, almost threatening. “Just because you got me pregnant and slept with her adoptive mother, it doesn’t make you a father, okay?”
Puck straightens his back. “You’re lucky you don’t swing that way, because no dude could ever put up with you in the long run.”
Quinn is not sure how she will ever go back to have a decent and civil relationship with him. But she knows she has to, for Beth’s sake. It’s hard though, because this is what it always comes down to when they spend time together, things get ugly.
Although, for their standards, this has been tame. They had exchanged worse –much worse– words.
He will always resent the fact that Quinn doesn’t want him – can’t want him– and she will always resent the fact that he still doesn’t see a problem in the circumstances under which Beth was conceived.
Months of therapy have gone to discuss her feelings about Puck exclusively, and it’s still hard as hell. She did not only try to make it work with him once, but twice, and even thrice. All because she needed to make sense of him being her first.
“I’m going to get a drink, enjoy the rest of the party.” Quinn smiles tightly and gets away from him. She hopes he can read between the lines and not try to engage in further conversation.
Even though he is the only one in this apartment that she actually knows.
Or so she thinks.
As soon as she’s inside the kitchen she finds Beth and a short brunette trying to reach at a shelf from one of the cupboards.
She knows it’s Rachel Berry before she can even process how she realizes it’s Rachel Berry, but there’s something in the way she moves, the way she stretches upwards that stirs a familiar feeling for Quinn.
There are other people in the kitchen, but no one seems aware of their plight.
Quinn just takes a moment to observe, and most importantly, to come down from her fight with Puck.
“Beth, are you sure there are more mugs behind those bowls?” Rachel asks before dropping back to her heels and sighing “I think I’m going to need you to climb on top of the counter.”
“But mom doesn’t want me to do that.”
“Your mom should have known better than to assign this particular task to the shortest people in the house. So we will have to improvise!”
“You go on top of the counter.” Beth offers with a toothy grin.
“Nuh-uh, missy, not while I’m wearing a skirt around all these people.” Rachel looks scandalized, her eyes fleeting around the kitchen and suddenly landing on Quinn.
In many other circumstances, like most of them, the energy she needs to deal with anything Rachel-related is usually too much for her. The diva is always too intense, too intrusive, and for that Quinn tries to avoid being exposed to her for too long. But right now, Rachel Berry is a beacon of light she plans to attach herself to until this evening is over and she can head back to the crappy hotel room she rented for the night.
At least, she notices, New York Rachel’s style is incredibly more appealing to the eyes. There's still the mini skirts and the sweaters, but Rachel favors wearing a lot of black, apparently, like black over black over black. Quinn would wonder if the girl is still mourning Finn after all these years, but the kind of black dresses she has seen Rachel wear on social media screamed risqué, not grief.
“Quinn!” Rachel exclaims, sounding delighted. “Almost didn’t recognize you there. How have you been? I would offer you a mug of hot chocolate but…”
“But you can’t reach it.”
She doesn’t intend to sound mean, but she does sound teasing and Rachel huffs in annoyance.
“It’s a crime this woman doesn’t have a stool at hand. Care to help?”
Quinn nods, making her way around the kitchen aisle. Even though she's not that much taller than Rachel, the few extra inches help her reach high enough and she manages to bring down a mug. She feels a bit victorious when both of them praise Quinn for it.
“How many do you need?”
“Just one for you, actually.”
“Quinn, you gotta try the hot choco and stir it with a candy cane, it’s the best way to do it!” Beth leads her to the aisle where an assortment of drinks is available.
As instructed, she pours herself a hefty dose of chocolate from one of the thermos –she notices there's one labeled as vegan and goes for the other one– and puts a candy cane inside.
“This is really good, Beth, you were right.”
Beth grins proudly. “I helped make it.”
Rachel leans against the countertop. “I gotta say though, you’re missing out because the vegan one is much tastier.”
“I helped make that too!”
“Did you actually try the normal one?” She baits. Quinn can’t help it.
“I actually did! By accident, but still.”
Beth giggles and Rachel laughs, Quinn thinks this evening might not be so terrible.
She does end up attaching herself to Rachel. Beth seems to gravitate towards them, which Quinn loves, but unfortunately it also means that Puck orbits around them from time to time, that is when he’s not talking to random women. Quinn tries to ignore him as best she can, which seems to catch Rachel’s attention. She’s pretty sure no one from high school, except Santana, knows about their nasty break-up. After all, they all liked to believe that singing a duet in Glee Club solved all interpersonal issues, and Quinn has wanted to believe that too. But sitting on Puck’s lap and kissing him for an audience was way easier than laying in bed and trying to enjoy having sex with him.
But that’s not something she wants to dwell on, not when she’s sitting on the carpet next to Beth, with Rachel on the couch that Quinn is also using to rest her back from time to time.
“So when’s Hanukkah?” Quinn asks –hates the fact that it doesn’t have a set date in the calendar.
“It just ended earlier this week.” Rachel leans over to get a cookie from the table, a faint lavender smell reaching Quinn’s nose whenever she does so.
“Oh.” Was she supposed to do anything for Beth? Say anything? Send a card?
Rachel seems to read her like an open book. “It’s not a big holiday, don’t worry. Not like Christmas.”
She knows that Beth is being raised Jewish, but she’s not sure about how much Shelby actually practices, considering the amount of Christmas decorations in the house.
Quinn remembers how the season used to mean a lot for her growing up, all the way up until she was kicked out of her house and then kicked out of Finn’s house a few weeks before Christmas.
The details of having spent Hanukkah at Puck’s that year are hazy at best, since she was mostly depressed out of her mind.
“We don’t do Christmas here, but I think it’s fun!” Beth smiles up to them. “Christmas songs are the best.”
It’s like a trigger for Rachel, who springs from her seat and lands on the floor next to them. “I know, right? We celebrated everything at my house, because dad’s jewish and daddy’s christian, but we all loved Christmas so much, and it doesn’t get better than Mariah Carey’s classic ‘All I Want for Christmas’, but also—”
Ah, there she is. Quinn was wondering when Rachel’s unhinged enthusiasm was going to show up.
Puck wanders near them and she tries not to tense her body in response.
Beth seems to be paying attention to Rachel, who is going on and on about holidays at her house in the early 2000. Quinn notices that Rachel’s voice wavers from time to time, as if there’s something painful lodged in between those happy memories.
“My favorite thing, though,” she intones softly, “is mistletoe.”
“Is that when people have to kiss?” Beth questions, curiosity written all over her face.
“Oh, yeah.” Puck adds. “I have lots to thank to mistletoe.”
Quinn wants to admonish him somehow, he really has no filter –which was charming in high school but not when a seven-year-old is attentively listening.
Thankfully, it’s Rachel who swats at his leg from her position on the floor. “Noah!”
He laughs, seemingly enjoying the banter.
“People don’t have to kiss, Beth.” Quinn states, needing to make the point clear, but not sure how to continue.
Rachel doesn’t bat an eye before she comes to her aid. “Oh, no, no. Kissing is what sometimes two grown-ups want to do and they stand underneath a mistletoe to make it more romantic. But when I was little, and I happened to stand there, my daddy used to give me a big kiss on the top of my head, or my forehead. My dad used to give me a strong hug and, when I was very little, he tossed me up in the air. But no one had to do anything they didn’t want to.”
Puck makes an off comment about Rachel still being little, but Quinn doesn’t pay attention, since all of it is solely directed at Rachel’s ability to know exactly what to say.
“Oh, okay, I think I get it.”
“Here, we can put it to practice.” Puck has suddenly produced mistletoe from who knows where and he’s dangling it on top of them, the little green leaf over Rachel’s and Quinn’s heads.
What the hell is he playing at?
Beth seems to get excited and stands up. “It’s you two, what happens when it’s two girls?”
Quinn feels the walls closing in. She knows, God, she knows that Shelby is okay about this, considering she gave her firstborn to a gay couple, the very same one Rachel kept going on about and Beth seems fine, but– She doesn’t want Beth to think Quinn is disgusting or anything like that. She can’t bear the thought.
And so, she doesn’t know what to say.
But of course, Rachel does. “Sometimes two grown-up girls can kiss, but Quinn is not going to appreciate that, will she?” She bumps her shoulder against hers. “So I’m going to ask for a hug, and she’ll decide if she’s comfortable with that or not.”
Puck scoffs, and Quinn is ready to inflict pain on him for ever putting her in this position.
Beth stares at her expectantly. So does Rachel, a timid smile on her face.
But she looks at the little girl when she replies. “I’m comfortable with a hug, so I’m going to agree to that.”
Rachel grins happily, twisting her body towards Quinn and extending her arms. She can’t tell how much it’s Rachel being her usual theatrical self and how much she amps it up in front of Beth. There was a time when Quinn could tell, but she realizes she doesn’t know Rachel that well anymore.
It makes her a little sad, and it’s with that feeling that she leans in, letting herself be wrapped into the lavender scent and the girl’s embrace.
Quinn thinks the hug could have gone for longer if it wasn’t by the way Puck coughed under his breath, breaking the moment for Quinn. She disengages and focuses on Beth, anchoring herself back to her. “See? It’s very important to talk to people beforehand, so you know what they’re okay with.”
One day, when Beth is older, she will make sure the girl knows everything about consent and boundaries, and hopes with all her heart that the girl has enough self-love to put those in practice.
Rachel nods. “Exactly! And you don’t have to hug anyone you don’t want to, mistletoe or not. A fist bump will suffice, or even a curtsy.”
Quinn bites her lip, trying not to laugh at the examples. “Or a wave.”
“Or just a nod.” Puck adds, seeming to finally understand what Rachel and Quinn are aiming for.
“Cool.” Beth says, sounding older than she actually is. And then she goes back to sounding like she’s seven. “So what else do you like about Christmas?”
“Oh, the cookies, definitely!”
Quinn can agree with that. “Definitely.”
—
The evening ends up going by in a blur. Beth doesn’t spend the whole time with them, considering there are other guests and Beth really is the star of the whole thing, but she does spend plenty. Quinn is grateful, she doesn’t get to see Beth often, despite the fact that she’s not that far away. She always feels as if she’s interrupting the Corcorans routine when it’s just her . And even though she was initially hesitant about coming to this party, she feels better when she’s invited to these things.
Despite having to deal with Puck for so long, she has a nice time.
When the party starts winding down, the tension between Quinn and Puck goes up. It’s a bit of a competition to see who leaves first, who spends more time with Beth.
It’s not fair, he got to the house first, he should leave first.
But the one to announce her exit is Rachel. Quinn doesn’t waste time, mentioning how it’s time for her to leave too.
Puck pretends to be a gentleman or whatever and says he’s leaving with them too. Quinn refrains from groaning out loud.
Beth is a few minutes away from her bed time, and she looks tired when she says goodbye.
Quinn asks for a hug, because they did not spend so long hammering the concept only to not follow through. Her heart shrinks and expands and does all sorts of weird things –like it does every single time she says goodbye to Beth.
When the three of them hit the streets, there’s a bit of a lull.
Quinn knows that Puck doesn’t want to spend any more time with her than she wants to spend with him.
And once more, she’s reminded of why she really regrets having tried again with Puck, it was definitely not worth any of what followed after.
But there’s Rachel, and she has the feeling that Puck would like to reminisce with her and he’s silently urging Quinn to go away.
But Quinn doesn’t give a damn about what he wants. Not anymore.
So she’s quick. “Rachel? Do you have anywhere else to be right now?”
It’s late, but it’s a Saturday night and they are still young and in New York.
She seems surprised. “Not really, I was just going to head home and digest the massive amounts of food I had today.”
“There’s something I would like to talk about with you, if that’s okay?” Quinn knows she’s being cryptic, but God! She just wants for Puck to get the hint and leave .
“Of course.”
“Great, I’ll walk you home, we can chat on the way.” Quinn remarks, not casual at all, and smiles tightly at Puck. “Good night, Puckerman.”
He shakes his head in amusement, or frustration, maybe both. “Yeah, sure.”
He bids Rachel goodbye with a hug, a promise to stay in touch and then barely a glance at Quinn before he’s walking down the street and away from them.
Rachel stares at the direction he eventually disappears into. “Well, I’m gonna go on a limb and guess things are not great between you two.”
Quinn sighs. “We ended things about a year ago. This is the second time we’ve seen each other after that.”
There are times when she really needs to let it out. Quinn has spoken about this to two people only, Santana and her therapist.
“That’s a shame–”
“If you say we made a great couple or something like that I’m going to walk away.” There’s a bit of a bite in her words. She wants to talk with Rachel but she has her limits.
“No! I just meant, it’s a shame that you have to see him because of Beth.”
Quinn purses her lips. “Oh. Okay.”
Rachel bumps her shoulder against hers –a thing New York Rachel seems to do often. “To be honest, I never saw it with you two. You deserve a lot better.”
She chuckles. God, she doesn’t know what she deserves, but she definitely wants better. An entire different gender at least. “You never said anything.”
“Um, it’s not something that you just say to people.” Rachel begins to walk. “That’s more your thing, anyway. Come on, it’s freezing, I know a place where we can get warm.”
Quinn knows it’s not a double entendre, but she finds herself wanting it to be from Rachel.
She has also discussed Rachel with her therapist at length, and yeah, her repressed attraction towards the girl too. But Quinn wasn’t expecting to simply bump into Rachel and have every feeling resurface as if no time has ever happened. Except, well, now she can admit to herself the fact that Rachel ignites something inside of her.
And it’s very clear to Quinn it’s not hate.
She follows Rachel all the way into a small cafe. She notices they serve alcohol, and for a long moment she considers it, but then Rachel orders a tea and Quinn throws the idea away. She’s sure she’ll regret the caffeinated drink she gets when she’s tossing and turning in the unfamiliar bed later.
“So, I wasn’t expecting you there. I thought you and Shelby—“
Rachel shrugs, drums her fingers on the table. “We’re trying . I mean, we don’t have a mother-daughter relationship or anything, but more of a mentor-mentee one.”
Quinn hums her response, trying to sound supportive and not judgemental. She knows Rachel has been burned by Shelby’s comings and goings.
“She’s also trying with you, for the record, she worries a lot about keeping you in Beth’s life in the healthiest way possible.” Rachel’s smiles ruefully. “In fact I know that part of me being in Shelby’s life is so Beth can take that example and translate it into her own experience with you. Normalize it, so to speak.”
She hates being compared to Shelby. The circumstances of how they gave their newborn away were completely different. And Quinn knows she made so many mistakes when it came to Beth, stuff that she still agonizes over, but she was too young to know better and every single adult in her life failed her. Including Shelby. Especially Shelby.
But Quinn can accept that it’s not the most terrible idea, and yeah, she doesn’t want Beth to feel like an anomaly, or like she wasn't wanted, or like how Rachel seems to feel right now.
“Are you okay with that?” She prods, gently. “I'm sure Shelby cares for you beyond Beth’s sake, how could she not?”
Rachel lets out a laugh, small and sardonic. “Yeah, I’m okay.” She pauses to take a sip from her still smoking tea. “Sometimes it’s hard, but I'm older and wiser and we all carry whatever weight we can so a child doesn’t have to.”
“You shouldn’t have to,” Quinn whispers before thinking. “You didn’t do anything wrong you have to atone for.”
Rachel regards her so softly that Quinn almost thinks it’s with pity. “That doesn’t matter, we know it doesn’t work that way. Besides, I love that kid, and she looks so much like you it’s insane. She didn’t get your eyes, though, or your nose.”
Oh, Beth did get her nose. But the brown eyes have to be all Puck’s.
She’s a couple of seconds away from saying that, but her hesitance makes her lose momentum.
“You don’t have to atone for anything, Quinn. You did the best you could.” Rachel goes to hold her hand, her fingers brushing against Quinn’s in silent permission.
“What about getting pregnant and then lying about who the father was. Or when I wanted to take Beth away from Shelby—“
Rachel holds her hand firmly. “No, no. That was ages ago, you were sixteen and you had to handle a lot more than you were ready for.”
Quinn knows, it’s not as if she hasn’t gone over this in therapy, as if she hasn’t heard variations of that same speech over and over again until it stuck in her head. But there’s something about Rachel saying it that actually helps, because she was there with a front row seat to everything that went down.
“Besides! You’re doing great now. Shelby thinks so too, and she trusts you with Beth.” She gives Quinn a meaningful stare.
There’s something about being told she’s trustworthy that gets to her. She has worked hard to become the best she could be, and after being given a second chance to be a part of Beth’s life, she didn’t hesitate to make it work, no matter the cost. Quinn had to be a good role model, even if she was still trying to fix a million things about herself.
“Yeah…” she concedes, at least to acknowledge what the other girl says.
Rachel squeezes her hand and releases, going back for her mug to take a sip. Quinn is reminded of her own drink and focuses on that, adamant of making eye contact with Rachel for long.
“So, by the way, did you actually want to talk to me about something or was it just to get Noah off your back?”
Quinn chuckles at being called out like that. “Actually, yeah, there’s something I could use your help with.”
Rachel leans forward, her face showing every bit of interest she has in what Quinn has to say.
“I’m finishing my masters degree next semester and I’ve been thinking about relocating.” She blows on her coffee, she has the feeling she won’t be able to back down once she involves Rachel. “To New York.”
Rachel squeals. “Quinn, you’re going to love living here, I promise!”
“I think so too.” Quinn chuckles. “It’s the money I’m worried about.”
“There are a lot of options, there are cheaper neighborhoods, or you could get a roommate.” Rachel waves her off. “We’ll figure it out.”
She tries not to be affected by how easy Rachel throws the word ‘we’.
“Do you think Shelby will–? I don’t want her to think that I’m trying to force myself into their lives.”
Rachel shakes her head. “No, but I can talk to her if you want?”
“Don’t offer me that twice, the idea of a middleman is really tempting.”
She doesn’t mean it as a joke, but Rachel laughs loudly.
“It’s going to be just fine.”
“Always so confident.”
“Oh yeah?” Rachel challenges. “You should have seen me right before I went back to Lima.”
Ah, the epic downfall of Rachel Berry, that really only ended up being a hiccup in the way of what Quinn always knew Rachel would have. An amazing career at Broadway.
“Please, you bounced back like that.” Quinn snaps her fingers.
“That’s the mark of a great performer, it looks easy on the outside, but you never know the grueling work that goes behind it.”
She can relate to that, putting up an act, so Quinn lets it sink in for a bit.
Rachel changes the subject, though. “So, where are you staying? You’re not going back at this hour, are you? You can always stay at my place if you don’t mind the fact that it’s a hundred square feet apartment.”
“I appreciate the offer.” And really, she does. “But I booked a hotel room not far away from here. I was thinking of doing some walking around tomorrow and then catching an afternoon train.”
“I know a place that’s great for lunch, if you’re interested. And before you ask, yes, it has non-vegan options.”
Quinn pauses. Is Rachel offering to have lunch together or is she just recommending a restaurant?
“Um, yeah, I mean… sure.” She has no idea what she’s agreeing to.
If this wasn’t Rachel, Quinn would be wondering if she’s being asked on a date, which is what usually happens to her when she talks to women, she just can’t read the signs. But this is Rachel, and she doesn’t like girls, right? So at the very best, this would be two friends from high school catching up in lunch, nothing to fret about.
Rachel smiles and goes for her phone. “I’ll send you the info right now.”
She bites the bullet. It’s just Rachel Berry, after all. The girl who was always desperate to become friends with her. “I’ll meet you there?”
“You want to have lunch with me?”
Oh. Did she read this wrong? “I’m guessing you don’t.”
Maybe New York Rachel Berry is not desperate for Quinn Fabray’s approval.
“No!” She manages to startle Quinn. “I would love to, I just didn’t want to assume that you would want to willingly spend more time with me.”
She chuckles. The mix between eagerness and caution that Rachel manages is so much akin to high school that she can’t help her amusement. “Do I need to remind you that I’m willingly here right now with you?”
Rachel narrows her eyes, looking smug as if she just knows she’s right. “Because you needed a good excuse to get rid of Noah.”
Quinn bites her bottom lip. “Partly,” she concedes. “But definitely not the only reason, I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“Careful there, I’m going to start believing that you actually like me.”
God, she doesn’t have a response for that, and the pause interrupts the banter abruptly.
Quinn knows this has the potential of turning really awkward, because she should just wave Rachel off. She should either deflect, make a joke about it, or simply acknowledge the fact that yeah, she likes Rachel. Even though like is not the right word, it’s too simple to encapsulate the complexity of how she feels for the girl. Sometimes Quinn used to like her, others she couldn’t stand her, mostly she’s been drawn to Rachel, as if there’s always been something unresolved between them, and then… there’s that . That thing that makes her have dreams about Rachel, dreams that reaffirm Quinn is very gay and very into petite brunettes with big full lips.
Quinn scoffs, but it’s so poorly performed that it only raises the tension in the air.
She wills herself to just do something, anything. But nothing comes out. It doesn’t help that she made the mistake of making eye contact and now she’s trapped.
The weight of Rachel’s statement is taking Quinn’s breath away, but it doesn’t seem to affect Rachel that way, given how easily she continues.
“Don’t worry, the secret is safe with me.” She actually winks and laughs. “I mean, I was planning on taking a selfie to post on instagram, hashtag look who I ran into, hashtag glee club, hashtag enemies to friends finally! But I can keep it to myself.”
“We were friends in high school,” Quinn argues, almost indignantly.
“Kind of .”
Oh, she knows a challenge when she sees one, but Quinn can amp it up . “Fine, we can be definitely friends from now on, okay? And since you’re going to be my only friend living in the city when I move here, you will have to make room in your schedule for me. Still interested?”
Rachel does a little squeal. “I’ll become your best friend before you even have time to unpack.”
She shakes her head in amusement. “Yeah, okay, Rachel. We’ll see about that.”
Quinn is trying to be dismissive, but she actually believes Rachel is capable of doing exactly that, and she’s not sure if it makes her thrilled or terrified.
Because the more time she spends with the girl, the more likely she is to develop feelings. Can she afford to make that gamble?
In no time, Rachel’s tea is gone. Quinn stares at the bit of liquid still in her cup, the last sip she took was lukewarm and a little gross, so she pushes it away so the waiter can take it.
They agree it’s late, and so they decide to call it a night and brave the cold weather once more.
Quinn’s hotel is close by and Rachel offers to walk her.
“It’s really cold, you don’t have to.”
“Nonsense, I love New York weather during the Christmas season!”
Quinn laughs, notices the way the puff of warm air makes a misty cloud in front of her. Rachel’s brand of crazy will always be the same, and she has to wonder when it stopped being annoying and started being endearing.
But Quinn is still quite cold, and maybe it’s the fact she was too cozy at the café, or that her body needs some sleep, but she begins to shiver.
Rachel notices and attaches herself to Quinn’s arm.
“I thought you loved the cold?”
“Oh,” she giggles. “This is for your sake, Quinn, unless you’d rather go without.” Rachel attempts to move away, and Quinn’s first instinct is to tighten her hold on the warm body next to her.
“Shut up.” Quinn grumbles.
Rachel laughs at her embarrassment. Even though Quinn will swear that if her face is pink, it is because of the freezing temperature.
She tries to think of a topic to talk about for the few blocks they have, anything to distract her from the cold. “So, you and Jesse? Are you guys…?” Quinn leaves the question hanging, because from social media she could gather that Rachel and Jesse were together, but for a while the mentions have been slimming down.
Rachel replies quickly and casually. “We broke up a while back.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to–”
“No, it’s totally fine. We’re on good terms, actually. It was a mutual decision, very…” she waves her gloved hand in the air, trying to find a word. “Drama-free.”
“Wow, never had one of those.”
“We even considered maintaining a PR relationship, but we noticed that our photos together didn’t have as many likes as the others, so we gathered our audience didn’t even care that much.”
Quinn is sure that she misheard the whole sentence. “Sorry? What?”
Rachel simply shrugs, glancing towards her. “Clearly the relationship lacked some passion, we were comfortable together but not… in love.”
She can’t help but compare it to her final break up with Puck, which was incredibly drama-filled. “I had a semi-drunk shout match for like, seven blocks in a residential area in New Haven, and I think we’re lucky no one called the cops on us.”
Rachel falters in her step. “With Noah?”
“Yup.” She makes a popping sound at the end, trying to add levity to the moment.
“I can’t believe it, I mean, I don’t know what to say.”
Quinn wonders if she said too much, because that whole night is not something she particularly likes to remember. Even though, yes, her therapist got the full version, Santana only got the cliff’s notes edition. It was too embarrassing to share all the details.
And yet, there’s something about walking with Rachel in the chill of a mid-December night that makes her want to open up, just a little.
“We were both stretched to our limit and it all exploded.”
Quinn scrunches her face, the fights she had with Puck were some of the worst times she had to endure, and she had to deal with a lot of crap in her lifetime.
“That doesn’t justify him yelling at you in public.”
She blushes, hard. “It’s cute that you assume it wasn’t the other way around.”
Rachel clutches her arm in surprise. “Noooo, really?”
“I was really angry at him.”
“Why? Did he cheat on you?” She asks, immediately worrying if she crossed a line she shouldn’t have. “You don’t have to answer that, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
Quinn actually laughs at that, because whatever Puck did on his own time wasn’t something that ever worried her. “I have no idea. Probably.”
Rachel visibly frowns, as if she’s upset on her behalf.
And Quinn just lets it out. “There were some …intimacy issues. He called me frigid but it turns out I’m just not interested in sex with men.”
She is stopped by the sheer force of Rachel halting abruptly and turning to face her. “He said that? That is such a misogynistic, outdated and harmful term, I seriously cannot believe him!”
“I know.” Quinn semi-whispers, almost in shock at herself for all that she’s revealing. “I slapped him for that. Really hard.”
“You do have a mean right hook.”
She chuckles under her breath, the humor in Rachel’s statement catching her off guard.
Rachel smiles softly, holds Quinn’s arm once more and resumes their walking. “So, not interested in sex with men as in attracted to other genders, in the spectrum of asexuality, both, still figuring it out?” She asks carefully, but the way she rambles at the end makes it clear she's once more afraid of overstepping.
Quinn takes a moment to chew on her answer. “Still figuring some stuff out, but…”
Rachel waits for maybe a whole minute before prompting gently. “But?”
They are –more or less– a block away from Quinn’s hotel, and maybe she should just say she likes women, and leave it at that. But being this close to Rachel, she throws caution to the wind, and she decides to aim for gold.
“When we were under the mistletoe, you said I wouldn’t appreciate kissing you. There’s some stuff I’m still not sure about, but what I do know is that you were wrong, I would have really appreciated a kiss from you.”
There’s no answer or acknowledgement from Rachel, and Quinn panics for a second.
“I mean, probably not in front of Beth, but yeah.” When the tension doesn’t diffuse, she quickly adds, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t.” Rachel finally stops and looks at Quinn, she breathes deeply through her nostrils, nose already pink from the chill. “It takes a lot to make me uncomfortable, and this is not it. I’m– I wasn’t expecting that.”
She sighs nervously. “It wasn’t planned, I’m just so bad at this, I’m sorry.”
“Bad at what, exactly?”
Quinn glares a little, old habits die hard. “Opening up, dealing with feelings, talking to women.”
“Mhm,” Rachel hums, “you’re doing quite well.”
“Don’t mock me.” She mumbles and takes a step to the side, ready to bolt. She knew there was a reason she chose to do this so close to her hotel.
But Rachel reaches for her arm, gently, and gets in front of Quinn, dangerously close. “I’m not mocking you, but I need to ask.”
God, was Rachel’s gaze always this intense? Quinn has to swallow down her nerves, tries to, anyway.
“If I were to kiss you right now, without the pretense of mistletoe, would you appreciate that as well?” Rachel breathes out the question with confidence, the warm air from her mouth barely reaching Quinn’s lips
It’s single handedly the most appealing question Quinn has ever been asked. She stares at Rachel’s lips and holds her breath in waiting.
“We talked about verbal consent being important today.”
“Yes, Rachel. Yes.”
The gentle smile that Rachel gives her before leaning in gets seared in her memory and Quinn’s eyes flutter shut when warm lips press against hers softly. The air around them is crisp, almost biting, and kissing Rachel makes her feel like her stomach is suddenly on fire. A mixture of ‘what is happening’ and ‘this is it, this is what kills me’ and ‘more, God, more’ runs wild inside her mind.
Rachel breaks apart for just a second and Quinn finds herself chasing a kiss she’s not ready to see the end of.
She whines a little, not caring if she sounds desperate, but it doesn’t even matter, since Rachel goes back to kissing her, one ungloved hand caressing the side of her head, fingers tangling in her hair. Quinn would return the favor if it wasn’t for having both of her hands holding on for dear life, wrapped around the waist of Rachel’s jacket.
It goes on for a few minutes, Quinn can’t be sure, until she hears catcalling in the distance and Rachel disentangles herself from the embrace.
“Come on, this neighborhood is nice and all but I wouldn’t push it.” She says, breathlessly, while pulling her to keep walking.
When they reach the door to Quinn’s hotel, there’s a bit of movement in the sidewalk, some tourists coming in and out, a receptionist visible through the glass doors. The moment they shared is gone and Quinn misses it sorely.
Rachel leans against the wall and stares at her, still trying to regulate her breathing.
Quinn bites her lip, not being able to pinpoint when was the last time she was ever this nervous around someone, and stares back, albeit with difficulty.
“We have been definitely friends for less than an hour, which took eight years in the making, only to have that happen.” Rachel points out with evident amusement, but there’s something else behind her expression. “Did we just ruin it?”
Quinn crosses her arm, both in an attempt to keep warm and to protect herself from what the question is going to bring out. “Maybe?”
She wants to say no, that they did not ruin the chances of being good friends, but really, all Quinn can think about is how kissing Rachel has changed everything for her. It really is clear now, she has been searching for that feeling since forever, and she found it imploding inside her chest and spreading to every single cell in her body the second Rachel kissed her.
Rachel sighs dramatically. “For the record, I’m going to remember this night forever.”
Quinn chuckles against her better judgment. Because she knows she will too, even though the finality of Rachel’s sentence is filling her with dread.
“Maybe it’s a sign we’re just not meant to be friends.” She says, feeling stupid, regretting it the second it leaves her mouth.
What are they doing? What is she doing?
Rachel looks hurt, but she tries to hide it with a rueful grin.
Except it’s too late, Quinn already saw it.
“So what are we going to do? Do we go back to.…before?”
Quinn shuffles her feet. There really isn’t anywhere to go back to.
This isn’t like sleeping with Santana. Mostly because back then Quinn was still under the impression that she was straight and Santana would always find her way back to Brittany. Being together was fun, and exploratory, and Quinn realized she could have an orgasm with someone other than herself.
And yes, she loves Santana, they certainly have chemistry, but it wasn’t hard for them to move on from the whole thing. It’s something Santana likes to bring up to boast about how her sex appeal awoke Quinn’s Sapphic inclinations, and she lets her have it, wonders all the time how Brittany doesn’t really care.
Rachel is not like Santana at all.
With Rachel she can see herself falling, and falling hard. Quinn can’t really say why, exactly. Maybe it’s all the years of obsession over the girl piling up, or the kiss and the way she wanted it, needed it, to stretch into eternity.
She has the inkling that if she let her, Rachel would sneak into every single corner of her heart, every nook and cranny, and make herself at home in those. If Rachel wanted to, of course.
“Do you even like women or was that just like some sort of favor to me?”
There are things she’s tempted to say, but she’s not about to make a fool out of herself for absolutely no reason.
Rachel chuckles, obnoxiously so. A raucous laughter that gets the attention of a few bystanders that are trying to flag down a taxi. She tries to reply, but she can’t stop herself long enough to talk.
Quinn is feeling a little affronted, she’ll admit that much. “What the hell, Rachel?”
“No, sorry, sorry!” Rachel bites her lip in an attempt to prevent any more laughing. “It’s just that the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever met asked me if I kissed her as a favor . A kiss that, I have to confess, I’m still trying to recover from. So no, it was definitely not as a favor to you, it’s something that I’ve really wanted to do, since God knows how long.”
“Oh.”
“But I won’t tease you for the first part of the question, because not a lot of people are aware that I’m bisexual.”
“You are?”
Rachel grins, suddenly starts singing. “Ever since puberty… boys, girls, I can’t help it, baby.”
Quinn tries to process all the new information as fast as she can, but she fails and she has no idea what to say. Is Rachel implying she always knew she liked girls? Even back in high school?
“May I suggest something?” Rachel interrupts her thoughts, and Quinn gestures for her to go ahead. “Let’s put a pin on this. I don’t know how serious you were about moving to New York, but I’ll help you get settled, after all I’m a woman of my word. We’ll have time to figure out if we can be friends or…”
It’s hard to miss the emotions etched on Rachel’s face, there’s a bit of hope there, but also a lot of fear. The word ‘or’ holds too many possibilities to unpack right then and there, and Rachel seems to know that this is not something they should rush. Whatever this is, whatever this could be.
But Quinn needs to narrow it down, just a bit, enough so she doesn’t drive herself crazy in the middle of the night. “Or more?”
She could swear she sees relief flashing in Rachel's eyes as she nods. Like it was the right thing to ask.
They keep gazing at each other, until Rachel’s expression changes and she pushes herself off the wall. Quinn is not sure what’s happening when the other girl reaches to hold her hand and guides her a few steps away from the building.
Rachel glances up and Quinn follows.
It’s snowing.
It’s freaking snowing. Quinn can’t help but look at the sky dumbfounded for a second, before directing her eyes back to Rachel and the way she smiles delighted at the few snowflakes that fall on her hand.
“Don’t you just love December in New York?” Rachel asks wistfully, her head suddenly landing on Quinn’s shoulder. “And it feels like anything could happen?”
“Yeah,” she easily agrees. Even though she’s not the biggest fan of snow unless she’s warm and cozy, watching from a window.
Quinn’s teeth chatter loudly and Rachel giggles in response.
“Okay, I’m taking a taxi and you’re going to get warm in your room. Did they give you one of those trays with tea and an electric kettle?”
“Yes, Rachel.”
“Good.”
Then, Rachel stands on her toes to kiss Quinn’s cheek.
Rachel’s nose feels like an ice cube, but the lips are warm as she whispers near her skin. “Good night, Quinn.”
She can only smile in response, almost dreamily, as Rachel releases her hand and moves away from Quinn.
“Wait!” She basically yells, her brain working all of the sudden. “Lunch? Tomorrow?”
Rachel laughs at her. It’s starting to feel like a pattern. “Yeah, you’re not the smoothest talking to women.”
Quinn looks at her helplessly.
“But don’t worry,” Rachel walks backwards, eyes never leaving Quinn. “I happen to think it’s adorable.”
Adorable. Huh. She can work with adorable.
“I’ll text you tomorrow morning, okay?” she continues, this time louder, and then has the audacity of throwing a wink her way.
It’s actually really sexy.
Her eyes follow the girl all the way until the figure waves at her and disappears inside a car.
Quinn is freezing, and yet, she has trouble moving her feet, still rooted to the spot where Rachel kissed her cheek minutes ago.
Because she’s starting to love December in New York, and it does feel like anything could happen.