A Normal Family
Title: A Normal Family
Fandom: Glee
Characters: Quinn, The Berrys
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Length: 844
Spoilers: Preggers.
Summary: Quinn had thanked them a lot in the past two months-whether it was when she’d whisper the words to them each night before she went upstairs to bed or just the way that her eyes had recently seemed to sparkle a bit more when she smiled…
AN: Upon writing this, I didn't feel like there was enough of any pairing implied to cross post this anywhere, but it was an idea that would not leave my head. Also, I've never tried to write any sort of father-figure before, so please let me know if something here seems off. :P
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It was a typical weekend morning in the Berry household. William Berry and his daughter were sleeping away, doing their best impressions of a rock and a log respectively (Rachel snored). James Berry and Quinn Fabray, however, were scurrying about the kitchen-cooking, talking, bonding.
At first, James would always try to offer her an easy out (“You don’t have to do this, Quinn. I promise. You don’t owe us anything.”), but Quinn had always been an early riser anyways, and it was nice to have something else to fill her Sunday mornings (not that Rachel’s dads hadn’t offered to take her to church; Quinn just was a little confused about where she stood with God as of late), and eventually it just became an accepted fact that the ex-cheerleader and ex-Queen B would be serving the Diva Gleek a ham and cheese omelette for breakfast over the weekend.
This morning was quieter than normal. The two silently worked (navigating around Quinn’s ever growing stomach) on making blueberry pancakes and French toast. They usually got along famously: Quinn regaling James horror stories from the modern high-school and James countering with tales of the odd traits of his patients and of Will’s students. This morning, however, the silence was growing awkward and Quinn was biting at her lower lip, deflecting all of James’s questions with one word answers and occasionally casting a shy glance in the other man’s direction.
Breakfast was finished. It sat, still steaming, on the kitchen table, but the other members of the Berry family would probably not wake up for a while unless disturbed (loudly), and James had no intent of calling the animals (referring to his husband and daughter, of course) quite yet.
“Hey, Kiddo,” he rested his hand on the blonde’s shoulder, turning her to face him, noticing how she didn’t quite meet his eyes. “You feeling all right? Any regrets?” He used to ask her that every morning-right after she’d run away from a somewhat less-than-accepting home. She’d respected that he was truly taking her interests to heart; he’d respected that she’d genuinely thought before answering (the first day, she’d just looked at him with lost and childlike eyes and breathed, “I don’t know.”).
But now, she just let a smile reach her eyes for the first time this morning and said, “No, none” (that had been her answer lately). “But,” she hesitated, and then stepped closer to him when he held out his other arm for a hug. “I mean-thank you so much.” Quinn’s voice cracked and James sighed and pulled her even closer, because after all this she was just a kid and she’d really been through too much.
Quinn had thanked them a lot in the past two months-whether it was when she’d whisper the words to them each night before she went upstairs to bed or just the way that her eyes had recently seemed to sparkle a bit more when she smiled-and James had always thought her silly for it. “You’re practically one of us now, Honey, for good and for bad,” he said with a small smile. “You know we’d do anything for you.”
“Yeah-um-about that,” Quinn pulled back just enough to watch the older man’s face. Finally she spoke again, stumbling over her words, “It’s just that, you’ve all been so…yeah…to me since I got here, and I was wondering-uh-can I call you Dad?”
There was a slight pause, where millions of thoughts rushed through James’s head in less than a second. His mouth instantly turned upwards (which Quinn really hoped was a good sign), but he had this small crease in his forehead and this look in his eye and Quinn pulled herself away (because she’d been completely rejected so many times that she kind of thought she would just drop dead if this didn’t work out). “Never mind,” she said roughly. ‘Forget it, it’s stupid,’ was on the tip of her tongue (because it really had been stupid and she was stupid, too, and when did everything get so stupid?) but it never escaped her lips because James had wrapped her arms around her even tighter (she worried briefly about the baby) and was rubber her hair and comforting her.
“Shh, Sweatheart, I didn’t mean it like that at all. You hear me? I would love for you to call me Dad. He pulled her back, a hand at each of her shoulders to stop her from running away again, looked her in the eyes, and smiled brightly. “I was just thinking about everything. You know, Rachel usually calls Will ‘Dad’ and me ‘Daddy.’ I was thinking that things would probably get a little confusing around here for a while. But I love you, Quinn. We all do. Especially Rachel.” His smile grew when Quinn’s lips curved up as well. “And I’d be honored to be your daddy. Erm, dad. Here we go,” he laughed.
Quinn laughed too and (not) subtly wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “I love you, too, Daddy.”
Thank you for reading.
Fandom: Glee
Characters: Quinn, The Berrys
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Length: 844
Spoilers: Preggers.
Summary: Quinn had thanked them a lot in the past two months-whether it was when she’d whisper the words to them each night before she went upstairs to bed or just the way that her eyes had recently seemed to sparkle a bit more when she smiled…
AN: Upon writing this, I didn't feel like there was enough of any pairing implied to cross post this anywhere, but it was an idea that would not leave my head. Also, I've never tried to write any sort of father-figure before, so please let me know if something here seems off. :P
---
It was a typical weekend morning in the Berry household. William Berry and his daughter were sleeping away, doing their best impressions of a rock and a log respectively (Rachel snored). James Berry and Quinn Fabray, however, were scurrying about the kitchen-cooking, talking, bonding.
At first, James would always try to offer her an easy out (“You don’t have to do this, Quinn. I promise. You don’t owe us anything.”), but Quinn had always been an early riser anyways, and it was nice to have something else to fill her Sunday mornings (not that Rachel’s dads hadn’t offered to take her to church; Quinn just was a little confused about where she stood with God as of late), and eventually it just became an accepted fact that the ex-cheerleader and ex-Queen B would be serving the Diva Gleek a ham and cheese omelette for breakfast over the weekend.
This morning was quieter than normal. The two silently worked (navigating around Quinn’s ever growing stomach) on making blueberry pancakes and French toast. They usually got along famously: Quinn regaling James horror stories from the modern high-school and James countering with tales of the odd traits of his patients and of Will’s students. This morning, however, the silence was growing awkward and Quinn was biting at her lower lip, deflecting all of James’s questions with one word answers and occasionally casting a shy glance in the other man’s direction.
Breakfast was finished. It sat, still steaming, on the kitchen table, but the other members of the Berry family would probably not wake up for a while unless disturbed (loudly), and James had no intent of calling the animals (referring to his husband and daughter, of course) quite yet.
“Hey, Kiddo,” he rested his hand on the blonde’s shoulder, turning her to face him, noticing how she didn’t quite meet his eyes. “You feeling all right? Any regrets?” He used to ask her that every morning-right after she’d run away from a somewhat less-than-accepting home. She’d respected that he was truly taking her interests to heart; he’d respected that she’d genuinely thought before answering (the first day, she’d just looked at him with lost and childlike eyes and breathed, “I don’t know.”).
But now, she just let a smile reach her eyes for the first time this morning and said, “No, none” (that had been her answer lately). “But,” she hesitated, and then stepped closer to him when he held out his other arm for a hug. “I mean-thank you so much.” Quinn’s voice cracked and James sighed and pulled her even closer, because after all this she was just a kid and she’d really been through too much.
Quinn had thanked them a lot in the past two months-whether it was when she’d whisper the words to them each night before she went upstairs to bed or just the way that her eyes had recently seemed to sparkle a bit more when she smiled-and James had always thought her silly for it. “You’re practically one of us now, Honey, for good and for bad,” he said with a small smile. “You know we’d do anything for you.”
“Yeah-um-about that,” Quinn pulled back just enough to watch the older man’s face. Finally she spoke again, stumbling over her words, “It’s just that, you’ve all been so…yeah…to me since I got here, and I was wondering-uh-can I call you Dad?”
There was a slight pause, where millions of thoughts rushed through James’s head in less than a second. His mouth instantly turned upwards (which Quinn really hoped was a good sign), but he had this small crease in his forehead and this look in his eye and Quinn pulled herself away (because she’d been completely rejected so many times that she kind of thought she would just drop dead if this didn’t work out). “Never mind,” she said roughly. ‘Forget it, it’s stupid,’ was on the tip of her tongue (because it really had been stupid and she was stupid, too, and when did everything get so stupid?) but it never escaped her lips because James had wrapped her arms around her even tighter (she worried briefly about the baby) and was rubber her hair and comforting her.
“Shh, Sweatheart, I didn’t mean it like that at all. You hear me? I would love for you to call me Dad. He pulled her back, a hand at each of her shoulders to stop her from running away again, looked her in the eyes, and smiled brightly. “I was just thinking about everything. You know, Rachel usually calls Will ‘Dad’ and me ‘Daddy.’ I was thinking that things would probably get a little confusing around here for a while. But I love you, Quinn. We all do. Especially Rachel.” His smile grew when Quinn’s lips curved up as well. “And I’d be honored to be your daddy. Erm, dad. Here we go,” he laughed.
Quinn laughed too and (not) subtly wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “I love you, too, Daddy.”
Thank you for reading.