Fic : Touch Me (Rachel/Quinn - Glee) 3/4
Title: Touch Me
Author: aroo4life
Rating: PG-13 until next chapter.
Length: 2275 words
Spoilers: Through 1.13, Sectionals
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. They belong to Ryan Murphy and I just borrowed them for a few pages.
Summary: AU Future Fic. Rachel/Quinn. Rachel lets Quinn in on a secret that affects them both in a way fitting of Rachel Berry.
Notes: Mistakes are mine. Thank you to bcharmer23 for the beta. This story started out as one thing and has ended up somewhere else completely. Comments are greatly appreciated. For a link to the video that inspired this fic - see note at end of Chapter 4.
Prologue, Chapter 1, and Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Now here they were, eight years later in New York on the precipice of a monumental shift in their relationship and only one-half of the duo knew anything about it.
Rachel paced nervously in the small space behind the stage blowing out a puff of air and inhaling deeply in an attempt to find even. She checked the clock for the twelfth time since 6:00 and it was only 6:15. The diva had graced stages from the time she was four years old and the only thing that had ever been close to making her this unsettled was taking the stage on opening night of her first show on Broadway. Scratch that. Even that did not seem as close to the butterflies tormenting her stomach right now. She startled each time she heard footsteps outside her dressing closet.
The show itself was not the issue. She was flattered to be included in a cabaret set featuring several young singers currently in Broadway shows. They had each been asked to play three or four show tunes or sweeping ballads in a mini-set. Even after years of performing, she still got a small case of nerves, but tonight’s full on attack had everything to do with the beautiful blonde who should be here any moment.
About a month ago, the diva had awakened alone, the remnants of the previous night’s tears still stinging her eyes. The two had had one of their knockdown drag out, passive aggressive arguments because Quinn had stayed out late and not called and dang it, Rachel had worried and waited and worried some more. A little courtesy, was that too much to ask? She knew it was stupid. She wasn’t Quinn’s mother or anything. Quinn had apologized, explaining that she had simply got caught up in sharing drinks and small talk with her new co-worker Elizabeth.
Elizabeth, Elizabeth, Elizabeth. Drinks, movies, dinners, the two were spending a lot of time together, and Rachel really did not want to examine why she was so bothered by this turn of events. She had exploded on Quinn the moment she walked in the door barely giving the blonde a moment to speak. Accusations, barbs, anger-tainted words poured from her until Quinn had pushed back, tears streaming down her face, and stomped to her room. Rachel had followed suit a few moments later going to her own room, hugging her pillow, and crying herself to sleep.
The light of the morning brought with it some tough questions. They could not keep doing this to each other. The fights were escalating, and the pain was more intense and so much closer to the surface than ever before.
Why did Quinn hanging out with a co-worker leave her so undone?
Over the years, they had both been in and out of relationships. When Jesse had called from LA to say that the distance was too much, it was Quinn who held her as she cried herself to sleep. It was Quinn who made sure she came out of her room, who endured the entire “Sondheim on Broadway” DVD box set multiple times. It was Rachel who held Quinn close when she broke up with Puck the final time and again when her college boyfriend Mark wanted more of Quinn than she could give to him.
The two were so close that they finished each other’s sentences, knew from looking at the menu what the other would order. They had awakened in each other’s arms more often than Rachel could count. Quinn was the first person she came to with good news and the only person she sought out for comfort with bad.
Quinn was the first person Rachel told when she came to the realization that her sexuality was a bit more fluid than she had thought and there just might be a girl at school that had caught her attention. Quinn accepted Rachel for who she was, and as her best friend, she loved her for all of the things that made Rachel, well Rachel. Nothing changed between them. They just grew closer.
When Quinn fell hard for her very female TA in political science class, Rachel was the one who helped her pick out the clothing for their first date and then wiped away the tears a few months later when things fell apart.
So why now? Why was this time so different?
Sure, things got tenser at home sometimes when one of them was dating someone else. Wasn’t that just a byproduct of losing hang out time with your best friend, of having your friend not there at that exact moment that you need them? And really, the toilet paper being on the roll backwards was reason enough for a hissy fit. It had nothing to do with not seeing Quinn for the fourth night in a row of that week because she was out with Andrea. Nothing at all.
“Oh my heavens.” Realization crept its way into the recess of her mind. Rachel Berry did not just love her best friend and her roommate. She was in love with her - mind-blowing, all encompassing, story book love. The weight on her chest from last night’s argument lifted. A grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. She felt light and free and thrilled beyond belief. For a few moments she didn’t think about anything else, just rolling around in her bed exhilarated by the feelings coursing through her. She leapt from the bed, her hair flying everywhere, and went in search of Quinn, not a clue of what to say, but knowing she needed to spill all of this as soon as possible before she burst.
When she rounded the corner, her heart clenched at the sight of Quinn’s precisely made bed. She took the next few steps with more caution hoping to find her best friend reading in the living room, but the apartment was so quiet, she knew that Quinn had gone out. There on the dining room table was a short note stating succinctly that once again Quinn was sorry and that she had gone out for the day, but that they could talk when she got home that evening. Tears welled in her eyes because she had a show that night and would probably not see her best friend and make this right until the next day at the least. Rachel swallowed hard. This wasn’t the end of the world, right?
The next week flew by with them passing like two ships in the night, and rather than rehash the argument and try to explain her newly recognized feelings, Rachel decided on a gesture of the grand variety. In true Rachel Berry “Gold Star” fashion, she would express herself via song and then make sure the love of her life understood it was the forever kind of love that could bind them together as one.
A soft knock on the door shook Rachel from her internal reflection and looked up to see her own face reflected back in the dressing room mirror.
“Hey, you.” Quinn grinned at her from the doorway before walking over to the brunette and handing her the sheet music.
Rachel turned and her breath caught in her throat. The blonde was stunning in a black dress that accentuated her long legs. She might have appreciated them for a moment too long because when her gaze met Quinn’s, she caught a flicker of amusement reflected in those hazel eyes.
“Thank you. I really appreciate you taking the time to bring me this. How was dinner with Britt and Santana? Wait, there’s only 20 minutes until showtime. You should probably go get your seat and we can talk after.” Rachel’s mouth seemed to be working ninety miles a minute and luckily, Quinn had plenty of practice processing at the speed of light.
“Ok. Let me go get my seat and I’ll see you after the show.” Quinn stated as she pressed a small kiss to the diva’s cheek.
Rachel’s hand traveled to touch the spot on her cheek where the skin tingled from the pressure of Quinn’s soft lips. The sensation stunned the brunette into slow motion, her brain taking just a moment to make her mouth open and for more words to come.
“Wait, here this is for you. Read it before my set. Just please wait until you are seated. And, well, …” the brunette shook her head and finished with “uhm, uh, just … you’ll see” as she pressed the folded paper into the blonde’s hand.
Quinn furrowed her brow in curiosity. The brunette was acting so strange. She knew Rachel better than she knew herself, and this was definitely strange even for the diva. Rachel would have known her set list without having to have it written down and the musicians more than likely could have performed without the sheet music, but she knew better than to argue when Rachel wanted her to bring it.
“Alright, Streisand. I’ll read it before your set. Break a leg.” And with a small grin and a light brush of her hand over Rachel’s she turned and left to find her table.
Rachel took a final deep breath and took the stage. She knew exactly where to find the blonde as she had been watching her from the wings for the last twenty-five minutes. Curiosity was still etched in Quinn’s brow, but she looked positively radiant even in the low light. Rachel sought her out as the crowd applauded expectantly. Reflective deep brown eyes met sparkling hazel ones and the brunette mouthed “This is for you” before addressing the crowd and beginning her set with a nod to the band leader.
The opening strains of Don’t Rain on My Parade and the diva took her cue. Her voice vibrated in perfect pitch and filled the room, reaching everyone in it. Quinn smiled from the front row. This was the song that was played whenever either of them needed to be reminded of where things started for them and just how far they had come together. Sometimes Quinn would join in at the chorus but many times she would just let Rachel shine as she did at sectionals. At the end of the song, much the same as in 2010, Rachel stood there in the spot light soaking up the applause and feeding off the energy thrown her way.
“This next song is from Mamma Mia.” She pointed to Quinn imploring her to listen to this one carefully. Deep breath. “Take a Chance on Me.” It was an odd choice of song for the diva, but the lyrics spoke to exactly what she wanted Quinn to do. As the music coursed through her as it was wont to do, she lost herself for a moment. When the chorus came however, she stole a glance to Quinn and noticed her staring back, her face a mixture of awe and perhaps a hint of recognition of what Rachel was trying to impart.
Rachel swallowed nervously before beginning the third and final song of her set. The air shifted as the soft sounds of the acoustic guitar reverberated through her. There would be no mistaking her intent now. She glanced to her right one final time before saying the words that she would not be able to take back.
“This last song is from Spring Awakening. Touch Me. Arrangement by Deborah Abramson.”
She turned slowly toward the guitar player, her back to the audience in an effort to compose herself.
Where I go, when I go there
No more memories anymore
Only drifting on some ship
The wind that whispers of the distance to shore.
Touch me, just like that
And that, oh oh yeah, now that’s heaven.
Now that I like,
God that’s so nice
Now lower down
Where the figs lie.
The words flowed from her lips and filled the room, her voice rising and falling like the tides of the ocean. By the time she repeated “where the wind sighs” for the final time, she found the courage to look down for Quinn. Beyond the tears shining in Quinn’s eyes, Rachel found the balance of emotion rendered unreadable in the less than perfect light. With a final glance, she thanked the audience and exited stage left.
She rushed to her dressing area, sat down hard on the chair, and placed her head on hers hands. She had absolutely no energy left. It was done. She had given all of herself to Quinn over the course of the three song set.
There was soft knock on the door and she heard the hinges squeak as it was pushed open. She slowly raised her head toward to door and looked expectantly to the blonde.
Quinn walked softly towards her, hands shaking as she reached for Rachel’s cheek. Tears had begun to fall the moment she sat down and Quinn wiped at them gently.
“You are so beautiful when you sing.”
Rachel struggled to lift her head to meet the hazel eyes. Her insecurities were so on the surface that it took everything she had, but she needed to know if she was the only one who was willing to risk their friendship to take a chance on something more.
Quinn pulled the shorter woman up from the chair, wrapped her strong arms around her, and placed a small kiss on the top of her head.
“Come on let’s go home. I think we have a lot to talk about.” Quinn said as she clasped the shorter girl’s hand and pulled her out of the pub.
Rachel was silent. A rare occasion indeed.
Chapter 4/4
Author: aroo4life
Rating: PG-13 until next chapter.
Length: 2275 words
Spoilers: Through 1.13, Sectionals
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. They belong to Ryan Murphy and I just borrowed them for a few pages.
Summary: AU Future Fic. Rachel/Quinn. Rachel lets Quinn in on a secret that affects them both in a way fitting of Rachel Berry.
Notes: Mistakes are mine. Thank you to bcharmer23 for the beta. This story started out as one thing and has ended up somewhere else completely. Comments are greatly appreciated. For a link to the video that inspired this fic - see note at end of Chapter 4.
Prologue, Chapter 1, and Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Now here they were, eight years later in New York on the precipice of a monumental shift in their relationship and only one-half of the duo knew anything about it.
Rachel paced nervously in the small space behind the stage blowing out a puff of air and inhaling deeply in an attempt to find even. She checked the clock for the twelfth time since 6:00 and it was only 6:15. The diva had graced stages from the time she was four years old and the only thing that had ever been close to making her this unsettled was taking the stage on opening night of her first show on Broadway. Scratch that. Even that did not seem as close to the butterflies tormenting her stomach right now. She startled each time she heard footsteps outside her dressing closet.
The show itself was not the issue. She was flattered to be included in a cabaret set featuring several young singers currently in Broadway shows. They had each been asked to play three or four show tunes or sweeping ballads in a mini-set. Even after years of performing, she still got a small case of nerves, but tonight’s full on attack had everything to do with the beautiful blonde who should be here any moment.
About a month ago, the diva had awakened alone, the remnants of the previous night’s tears still stinging her eyes. The two had had one of their knockdown drag out, passive aggressive arguments because Quinn had stayed out late and not called and dang it, Rachel had worried and waited and worried some more. A little courtesy, was that too much to ask? She knew it was stupid. She wasn’t Quinn’s mother or anything. Quinn had apologized, explaining that she had simply got caught up in sharing drinks and small talk with her new co-worker Elizabeth.
Elizabeth, Elizabeth, Elizabeth. Drinks, movies, dinners, the two were spending a lot of time together, and Rachel really did not want to examine why she was so bothered by this turn of events. She had exploded on Quinn the moment she walked in the door barely giving the blonde a moment to speak. Accusations, barbs, anger-tainted words poured from her until Quinn had pushed back, tears streaming down her face, and stomped to her room. Rachel had followed suit a few moments later going to her own room, hugging her pillow, and crying herself to sleep.
The light of the morning brought with it some tough questions. They could not keep doing this to each other. The fights were escalating, and the pain was more intense and so much closer to the surface than ever before.
Why did Quinn hanging out with a co-worker leave her so undone?
Over the years, they had both been in and out of relationships. When Jesse had called from LA to say that the distance was too much, it was Quinn who held her as she cried herself to sleep. It was Quinn who made sure she came out of her room, who endured the entire “Sondheim on Broadway” DVD box set multiple times. It was Rachel who held Quinn close when she broke up with Puck the final time and again when her college boyfriend Mark wanted more of Quinn than she could give to him.
The two were so close that they finished each other’s sentences, knew from looking at the menu what the other would order. They had awakened in each other’s arms more often than Rachel could count. Quinn was the first person she came to with good news and the only person she sought out for comfort with bad.
Quinn was the first person Rachel told when she came to the realization that her sexuality was a bit more fluid than she had thought and there just might be a girl at school that had caught her attention. Quinn accepted Rachel for who she was, and as her best friend, she loved her for all of the things that made Rachel, well Rachel. Nothing changed between them. They just grew closer.
When Quinn fell hard for her very female TA in political science class, Rachel was the one who helped her pick out the clothing for their first date and then wiped away the tears a few months later when things fell apart.
So why now? Why was this time so different?
Sure, things got tenser at home sometimes when one of them was dating someone else. Wasn’t that just a byproduct of losing hang out time with your best friend, of having your friend not there at that exact moment that you need them? And really, the toilet paper being on the roll backwards was reason enough for a hissy fit. It had nothing to do with not seeing Quinn for the fourth night in a row of that week because she was out with Andrea. Nothing at all.
“Oh my heavens.” Realization crept its way into the recess of her mind. Rachel Berry did not just love her best friend and her roommate. She was in love with her - mind-blowing, all encompassing, story book love. The weight on her chest from last night’s argument lifted. A grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. She felt light and free and thrilled beyond belief. For a few moments she didn’t think about anything else, just rolling around in her bed exhilarated by the feelings coursing through her. She leapt from the bed, her hair flying everywhere, and went in search of Quinn, not a clue of what to say, but knowing she needed to spill all of this as soon as possible before she burst.
When she rounded the corner, her heart clenched at the sight of Quinn’s precisely made bed. She took the next few steps with more caution hoping to find her best friend reading in the living room, but the apartment was so quiet, she knew that Quinn had gone out. There on the dining room table was a short note stating succinctly that once again Quinn was sorry and that she had gone out for the day, but that they could talk when she got home that evening. Tears welled in her eyes because she had a show that night and would probably not see her best friend and make this right until the next day at the least. Rachel swallowed hard. This wasn’t the end of the world, right?
The next week flew by with them passing like two ships in the night, and rather than rehash the argument and try to explain her newly recognized feelings, Rachel decided on a gesture of the grand variety. In true Rachel Berry “Gold Star” fashion, she would express herself via song and then make sure the love of her life understood it was the forever kind of love that could bind them together as one.
A soft knock on the door shook Rachel from her internal reflection and looked up to see her own face reflected back in the dressing room mirror.
“Hey, you.” Quinn grinned at her from the doorway before walking over to the brunette and handing her the sheet music.
Rachel turned and her breath caught in her throat. The blonde was stunning in a black dress that accentuated her long legs. She might have appreciated them for a moment too long because when her gaze met Quinn’s, she caught a flicker of amusement reflected in those hazel eyes.
“Thank you. I really appreciate you taking the time to bring me this. How was dinner with Britt and Santana? Wait, there’s only 20 minutes until showtime. You should probably go get your seat and we can talk after.” Rachel’s mouth seemed to be working ninety miles a minute and luckily, Quinn had plenty of practice processing at the speed of light.
“Ok. Let me go get my seat and I’ll see you after the show.” Quinn stated as she pressed a small kiss to the diva’s cheek.
Rachel’s hand traveled to touch the spot on her cheek where the skin tingled from the pressure of Quinn’s soft lips. The sensation stunned the brunette into slow motion, her brain taking just a moment to make her mouth open and for more words to come.
“Wait, here this is for you. Read it before my set. Just please wait until you are seated. And, well, …” the brunette shook her head and finished with “uhm, uh, just … you’ll see” as she pressed the folded paper into the blonde’s hand.
Quinn furrowed her brow in curiosity. The brunette was acting so strange. She knew Rachel better than she knew herself, and this was definitely strange even for the diva. Rachel would have known her set list without having to have it written down and the musicians more than likely could have performed without the sheet music, but she knew better than to argue when Rachel wanted her to bring it.
“Alright, Streisand. I’ll read it before your set. Break a leg.” And with a small grin and a light brush of her hand over Rachel’s she turned and left to find her table.
Rachel took a final deep breath and took the stage. She knew exactly where to find the blonde as she had been watching her from the wings for the last twenty-five minutes. Curiosity was still etched in Quinn’s brow, but she looked positively radiant even in the low light. Rachel sought her out as the crowd applauded expectantly. Reflective deep brown eyes met sparkling hazel ones and the brunette mouthed “This is for you” before addressing the crowd and beginning her set with a nod to the band leader.
The opening strains of Don’t Rain on My Parade and the diva took her cue. Her voice vibrated in perfect pitch and filled the room, reaching everyone in it. Quinn smiled from the front row. This was the song that was played whenever either of them needed to be reminded of where things started for them and just how far they had come together. Sometimes Quinn would join in at the chorus but many times she would just let Rachel shine as she did at sectionals. At the end of the song, much the same as in 2010, Rachel stood there in the spot light soaking up the applause and feeding off the energy thrown her way.
“This next song is from Mamma Mia.” She pointed to Quinn imploring her to listen to this one carefully. Deep breath. “Take a Chance on Me.” It was an odd choice of song for the diva, but the lyrics spoke to exactly what she wanted Quinn to do. As the music coursed through her as it was wont to do, she lost herself for a moment. When the chorus came however, she stole a glance to Quinn and noticed her staring back, her face a mixture of awe and perhaps a hint of recognition of what Rachel was trying to impart.
Rachel swallowed nervously before beginning the third and final song of her set. The air shifted as the soft sounds of the acoustic guitar reverberated through her. There would be no mistaking her intent now. She glanced to her right one final time before saying the words that she would not be able to take back.
“This last song is from Spring Awakening. Touch Me. Arrangement by Deborah Abramson.”
She turned slowly toward the guitar player, her back to the audience in an effort to compose herself.
Where I go, when I go there
No more memories anymore
Only drifting on some ship
The wind that whispers of the distance to shore.
Touch me, just like that
And that, oh oh yeah, now that’s heaven.
Now that I like,
God that’s so nice
Now lower down
Where the figs lie.
The words flowed from her lips and filled the room, her voice rising and falling like the tides of the ocean. By the time she repeated “where the wind sighs” for the final time, she found the courage to look down for Quinn. Beyond the tears shining in Quinn’s eyes, Rachel found the balance of emotion rendered unreadable in the less than perfect light. With a final glance, she thanked the audience and exited stage left.
She rushed to her dressing area, sat down hard on the chair, and placed her head on hers hands. She had absolutely no energy left. It was done. She had given all of herself to Quinn over the course of the three song set.
There was soft knock on the door and she heard the hinges squeak as it was pushed open. She slowly raised her head toward to door and looked expectantly to the blonde.
Quinn walked softly towards her, hands shaking as she reached for Rachel’s cheek. Tears had begun to fall the moment she sat down and Quinn wiped at them gently.
“You are so beautiful when you sing.”
Rachel struggled to lift her head to meet the hazel eyes. Her insecurities were so on the surface that it took everything she had, but she needed to know if she was the only one who was willing to risk their friendship to take a chance on something more.
Quinn pulled the shorter woman up from the chair, wrapped her strong arms around her, and placed a small kiss on the top of her head.
“Come on let’s go home. I think we have a lot to talk about.” Quinn said as she clasped the shorter girl’s hand and pulled her out of the pub.
Rachel was silent. A rare occasion indeed.
Chapter 4/4