Fic: Parachute
Title: Parachute
Fandom: Glee
Rating: Teen for non-explicit mentions of sex.
Length: 1400
Summary: Song-fic for Ingrid Michaelson's "Parachute."
Do we think my law school professors would accept fan fic instead of exams? No?
I own nothing except the mistakes.
I don't tell anyone about the way you hold my hand
I don't tell anyone about the things that we have planned
I won't tell anybody, won't tell anybody
They wanna push me down, they wanna see you fall down
It’s the very first song on the very first CD that Rachel made after the very first time she slept with Quinn. (Not that she hadn’t slept with Quinn before, of course, because friends sleep together, but she hadn’t slept slept with Quinn until the end of summer, two days before the beginning of senior year.) She made the CD because she needed Quinn to know that she wouldn’t tell anyone, because if Quinn knew - really, really knew - that she wouldn’t tell anyone - even her diary, even her parents, even her childhood best friend Kate who lives in Strongsville, two hours away from Lima - then maybe, just maybe Quinn would be willing to sleep with her again. Or maybe even, and Rachel doesn’t even like to think this part too loudly, date her. So until Quinn is ready, Rachel won’t tell a soul. Even though she’s bursting at the seams. Somehow, and she’s not sure how, the beautiful, popular blonde that she’s had a crush on for what seems like ever was willing to sleep with her, and she won’t do anything to screw that up.
I won't tell anybody that you turn the world around
I won't tell anybody that your voice is my favorite sound
I won't tell anybody, won't tell anybody
They wanna see us fall, they wanna see us fall down
Quinn doesn’t exactly know how she and Rachel went from enemies to frenemies to acquaintances to friends to best friends to best friends who sometimes make out to best friends who sometimes sleep together. She knows that, after Bet - after the baby - and everything settled down, she gave Rachel a chance and discovered that she really wasn’t that bad. Sure, she talked like an elf on speed if given half the chance, but she genuinely cared about other people, and that made her fairly unique among high school students. When Sam dumped Quinn (turns out he wasn’t just lying about his hair, after all) to date Karofsky, of all people, Rachel was there within fifteen minutes with four flavors of ice cream just because she didn’t know Quinn’s favorite. Since then, things had progressed, and, although Quinn wasn’t sure she deserved it, Rachel was the best friend she’d ever had. Their first kiss took place in the auditorium when Rachel was in the middle of singing “Maybe This Time” and Quinn just couldn’t resist her for another minute. She knows Rachel won’t tell, and she is grateful. She knows that someday they’ll have to have “the talk,” but she’s glad Rachel’s not pushing her. She’s glad just to have this time when she can keep Rachel to herself, safe from the prying eyes of McKinley and Lima.
I don't need a parachute, baby, if I've got you
Baby, if I've got you, I don't need a parachute
You're gonna catch me, You're gonna catch if I fall (Down, down, down)
Since Rachel gave Quinn the CD, they’d slept together somewhere between twelve and fifteen times, depending on whether Rachel or Quinn was counting. They’re not dating, and that’s okay with Rachel in the exact same way that an A- is okay with Rachel - it’s totally not okay at all, but she feels bad for complaining because an A- and sleeping with Quinn are both better than what most people have. Ever since she realized she was gayish (in eighth grade, even though she didn’t admit it until junior year) she’s had this dream of walking through Central Park in the late fall with her significant other and their golden retriever - named Brooklyn or Wellesley or maybe something masculine like Gillette - and of course she and her faceless partner are wearing matching cable-knit sweaters and carrying soy lattes and a folded copy of the Sunday Times Art Section with a review of Rachel’s latest phenomenal performance - and all of a sudden, in October of her senior year, the faceless woman is Quinn. She wants to say something, to ask Quinn on a proper, official date, but she resists. She thinks, during moments like this when it’s two minutes before her alarm rings and she’s watching Quinn sleep, her face peaceful, that maybe this is enough. Maybe she doesn’t need her dream. Maybe just having Quinn like this is enough for her. She still hasn’t told anyone, but it’s getting harder.
Don't believe the things you tell yourself so late at night
And, you are your own worst enemy, you'll never win the fight
Just hold onto me, I'll hold onto you
It's you and me up against the world, it's you and me
Quinn knows they’re dating; they spend every Friday and Saturday night together, Quinn spent all eight nights of Hanukkah with the Berry family, and Rachel is coming over in exactly six hours to spend Christmas with Quinn and her mother. Rachel’s parents know they’re dating, although they’ve been kind enough not to mention it, and Quinn suspects - based on a horribly awkward conversation about the merits of Saran Wrap - that even her mother knows. Oddly, however, Rachel doesn’t seem to know that they’re dating. Rachel still checks if Quinn is free every Friday and Saturday night, even though she doesn’t have to, and Quinn suspects that she wouldn’t object if Quinn spent an entire weekend with Santana and Brittany. In fact, Quinn suspects that Rachel wouldn’t object if Quinn slept with Santana and Brittany. She thinks Rachel wouldn’t feel entitled to object, even though, by Quinn’s calculations, they’ve been dating for over three months. Quinn knows she needs to say something. Quinn knows that Rachel is trying so hard not to cling that she’s driving herself into the ground, distracting herself with extra workouts and extra college applications and extra Glee rehearsals. Quinn knows that she could be the one to bring it up. She loves Rachel, after all. But now, at 2.37AM… 2.38AM… 2.39AM, it seems impossible. She still doesn’t feel worthy of the petite brunette who has stolen her heart. She knows she has to say something eventually. Maybe this morning, when Rachel opens her present, a Tiffany heart on a silver chain, Quinn will summon the courage to make things official. Maybe in the light of day she’ll feel like she deserves that bright smile, but at 2.40AM she doesn’t believe that she has earned Rachel’s love.
I don't believe anything, don't trust anyone but me
But I believe you when you say we’re never gonna fall
Hand behind my neck, arm around my waist
Never let me hit the ground, you'll never let me crash
Rachel is desperately looking for her sweater. Not just any sweater will do, because she saw Quinn put on her red cable-knit and so Rachel needs her red cable-knit and Monty - who is a chocolate lab, not a golden retriever - is sniffing intently at her left ankle and she’s falling over trying to get her sweater over her heard and then she hears Quinn laughing and she triumphantly grabs the paper on their way out the door. They’ve been together for almost half their lives and have done this walk hundreds of times in the fourteen years since they moved to New York. Today, though, they make a detour past the Ambassador Theater to see the signs that just went up that morning, signs for the revival of Evita in which Rachel plays the title role, opening the very next week. Rachel stops to look up at the signs, Monty pulling at his leash, and feels Quinn’s strong arm slip around her waist.
“You did it, baby!” Quinn whispers, holding her tight.
“We did it, Quinn,” says Rachel, turning and kissing her wife before they keep walking. The sweaters and Monty and the walk in the park and even Evita are all nice, but they’re all just icing on the cake; Rachel has never really needed anything but Quinn.
I don't need a parachute, baby, if I've got you
Baby, if I've got you, I don't need a parachute
You're gonna catch me, You're gonna catch if I fall
Fandom: Glee
Rating: Teen for non-explicit mentions of sex.
Length: 1400
Summary: Song-fic for Ingrid Michaelson's "Parachute."
Do we think my law school professors would accept fan fic instead of exams? No?
I own nothing except the mistakes.
I don't tell anyone about the way you hold my hand
I don't tell anyone about the things that we have planned
I won't tell anybody, won't tell anybody
They wanna push me down, they wanna see you fall down
It’s the very first song on the very first CD that Rachel made after the very first time she slept with Quinn. (Not that she hadn’t slept with Quinn before, of course, because friends sleep together, but she hadn’t slept slept with Quinn until the end of summer, two days before the beginning of senior year.) She made the CD because she needed Quinn to know that she wouldn’t tell anyone, because if Quinn knew - really, really knew - that she wouldn’t tell anyone - even her diary, even her parents, even her childhood best friend Kate who lives in Strongsville, two hours away from Lima - then maybe, just maybe Quinn would be willing to sleep with her again. Or maybe even, and Rachel doesn’t even like to think this part too loudly, date her. So until Quinn is ready, Rachel won’t tell a soul. Even though she’s bursting at the seams. Somehow, and she’s not sure how, the beautiful, popular blonde that she’s had a crush on for what seems like ever was willing to sleep with her, and she won’t do anything to screw that up.
I won't tell anybody that you turn the world around
I won't tell anybody that your voice is my favorite sound
I won't tell anybody, won't tell anybody
They wanna see us fall, they wanna see us fall down
Quinn doesn’t exactly know how she and Rachel went from enemies to frenemies to acquaintances to friends to best friends to best friends who sometimes make out to best friends who sometimes sleep together. She knows that, after Bet - after the baby - and everything settled down, she gave Rachel a chance and discovered that she really wasn’t that bad. Sure, she talked like an elf on speed if given half the chance, but she genuinely cared about other people, and that made her fairly unique among high school students. When Sam dumped Quinn (turns out he wasn’t just lying about his hair, after all) to date Karofsky, of all people, Rachel was there within fifteen minutes with four flavors of ice cream just because she didn’t know Quinn’s favorite. Since then, things had progressed, and, although Quinn wasn’t sure she deserved it, Rachel was the best friend she’d ever had. Their first kiss took place in the auditorium when Rachel was in the middle of singing “Maybe This Time” and Quinn just couldn’t resist her for another minute. She knows Rachel won’t tell, and she is grateful. She knows that someday they’ll have to have “the talk,” but she’s glad Rachel’s not pushing her. She’s glad just to have this time when she can keep Rachel to herself, safe from the prying eyes of McKinley and Lima.
I don't need a parachute, baby, if I've got you
Baby, if I've got you, I don't need a parachute
You're gonna catch me, You're gonna catch if I fall (Down, down, down)
Since Rachel gave Quinn the CD, they’d slept together somewhere between twelve and fifteen times, depending on whether Rachel or Quinn was counting. They’re not dating, and that’s okay with Rachel in the exact same way that an A- is okay with Rachel - it’s totally not okay at all, but she feels bad for complaining because an A- and sleeping with Quinn are both better than what most people have. Ever since she realized she was gayish (in eighth grade, even though she didn’t admit it until junior year) she’s had this dream of walking through Central Park in the late fall with her significant other and their golden retriever - named Brooklyn or Wellesley or maybe something masculine like Gillette - and of course she and her faceless partner are wearing matching cable-knit sweaters and carrying soy lattes and a folded copy of the Sunday Times Art Section with a review of Rachel’s latest phenomenal performance - and all of a sudden, in October of her senior year, the faceless woman is Quinn. She wants to say something, to ask Quinn on a proper, official date, but she resists. She thinks, during moments like this when it’s two minutes before her alarm rings and she’s watching Quinn sleep, her face peaceful, that maybe this is enough. Maybe she doesn’t need her dream. Maybe just having Quinn like this is enough for her. She still hasn’t told anyone, but it’s getting harder.
Don't believe the things you tell yourself so late at night
And, you are your own worst enemy, you'll never win the fight
Just hold onto me, I'll hold onto you
It's you and me up against the world, it's you and me
Quinn knows they’re dating; they spend every Friday and Saturday night together, Quinn spent all eight nights of Hanukkah with the Berry family, and Rachel is coming over in exactly six hours to spend Christmas with Quinn and her mother. Rachel’s parents know they’re dating, although they’ve been kind enough not to mention it, and Quinn suspects - based on a horribly awkward conversation about the merits of Saran Wrap - that even her mother knows. Oddly, however, Rachel doesn’t seem to know that they’re dating. Rachel still checks if Quinn is free every Friday and Saturday night, even though she doesn’t have to, and Quinn suspects that she wouldn’t object if Quinn spent an entire weekend with Santana and Brittany. In fact, Quinn suspects that Rachel wouldn’t object if Quinn slept with Santana and Brittany. She thinks Rachel wouldn’t feel entitled to object, even though, by Quinn’s calculations, they’ve been dating for over three months. Quinn knows she needs to say something. Quinn knows that Rachel is trying so hard not to cling that she’s driving herself into the ground, distracting herself with extra workouts and extra college applications and extra Glee rehearsals. Quinn knows that she could be the one to bring it up. She loves Rachel, after all. But now, at 2.37AM… 2.38AM… 2.39AM, it seems impossible. She still doesn’t feel worthy of the petite brunette who has stolen her heart. She knows she has to say something eventually. Maybe this morning, when Rachel opens her present, a Tiffany heart on a silver chain, Quinn will summon the courage to make things official. Maybe in the light of day she’ll feel like she deserves that bright smile, but at 2.40AM she doesn’t believe that she has earned Rachel’s love.
I don't believe anything, don't trust anyone but me
But I believe you when you say we’re never gonna fall
Hand behind my neck, arm around my waist
Never let me hit the ground, you'll never let me crash
Rachel is desperately looking for her sweater. Not just any sweater will do, because she saw Quinn put on her red cable-knit and so Rachel needs her red cable-knit and Monty - who is a chocolate lab, not a golden retriever - is sniffing intently at her left ankle and she’s falling over trying to get her sweater over her heard and then she hears Quinn laughing and she triumphantly grabs the paper on their way out the door. They’ve been together for almost half their lives and have done this walk hundreds of times in the fourteen years since they moved to New York. Today, though, they make a detour past the Ambassador Theater to see the signs that just went up that morning, signs for the revival of Evita in which Rachel plays the title role, opening the very next week. Rachel stops to look up at the signs, Monty pulling at his leash, and feels Quinn’s strong arm slip around her waist.
“You did it, baby!” Quinn whispers, holding her tight.
“We did it, Quinn,” says Rachel, turning and kissing her wife before they keep walking. The sweaters and Monty and the walk in the park and even Evita are all nice, but they’re all just icing on the cake; Rachel has never really needed anything but Quinn.
I don't need a parachute, baby, if I've got you
Baby, if I've got you, I don't need a parachute
You're gonna catch me, You're gonna catch if I fall