Little Runaway
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">Little Runaway
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">Dedicated to: Yeahlegendary; because we are awesome.
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">Summary: A curly haired tot watches from behind the curtain in the utmost awe of her Mama. She just might perhaps give Quinn a run for her money as Rachel Berry’s biggest fan.
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">Warning: Contains a Fababy
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"">Pairing: Faberry
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Originally, this had begun as a game; a way to avoid the restlessness of sitting in those highly uncomfortable chairs and a way of exploration that does not get you in trouble. It had begun as a game, a quick way to annoy and frustrate Mommy until she is at the point of bursting into tears. A game that allows her to hustle and bustle quickly about, exploring, climbing, hiding behind and overtop of things while still patiently waiting for the end of the day to arrive. It began as a game to entertain the three and a half year old little girl, much to her Mommy’s disapproval; except now it is certainly not a game anymore.
Instead of climbing over boxes, furniture, people, pets and anything else that may break her neck or any other vital bone in her body, the three and a half year old is nestled quietly behind the red curtain in hushed silence. She dares not speak or move an inch; instead she only stands as still as the air around her, her tiny lips slightly ajar as she watches with wide eyes the stage before her.
The stage is nothing that she hasn’t seen before; it is an understatement to think that most of her infancy and toddler years were not spent here, between rehearsals and shows and other various activities that managed to keep her Mama’s attention during the spring and summer. Yet, it is something now that fascinates her with so much wonder and excitement as the bright, fluorescent lights cascade across the figures and shadows before her. There is something about the elegance of it all, something that in her child eyes seems all too enthralling and addictive.
She lulls herself in silence, quiet and careful not to draw too much attention to herself from the shuffling people who are in a hustle all of their own backstage. They pay her no mind and of which, she is grateful. The three and a half year old buries her fingers deep within the red satin curtain, tugging it closer to her in comfort and as a shield from the world around her. She is so much like her mother that it is uncanny, especially now when she wants something that she knows other people don’t want her to have. There is determination and passion, even if she is only three years old.
The Broadway production is West Side Story; nothing too remarkable for a three year old. However, the brunette star that is now serenading the audience through an armament of notes is. They all say that she is a mini her and in all honesty, they couldn’t be closer to the truth if they tried. People always joke that she was made straight from her with no help from her Mommy or anyone, and perhaps if she was a little older to understand what they were saying, she just might believe them. Tiny, with messy brunette curls that frame her face and those big, deep brown eyes, she is more like Rachel than Rachel could have ever been.
“Mia Berry-Fabray!” The voice of Quinn Fabray echoes from the side entrance and instantly the little girl gasps, recoiling in fear of being trouble. The blond stands only like a mother would, her hands squared on her hips and her brow drawn together in a tight line. Mia, however, does not mock the scowl like she normally would, but instead pouts slightly.
“You almost gave me a heart attack, do you know that? You can’t just run off like that! I know that you think that you were playing but that wasn’t funny; everyone is so worried about you!” Quinn exclaims and the toddler hangs her head in pouting, scuffing her tiny but all so professional shoe against the flooring.
“I sorry, Mommy,” pouts Mia, not even lifting her head to make eye contact with the blond. Instead she stands with her hands behind her back, her head hanging in the most glorified pout as she attempts to fake a sniffle. What if, if anything, is Rachel Berry’s offspring except the perfect stage performer? However, instead of being tough or harsh or anything that so much suggests putting her foot down, Quinn’s face alters as the hardness of anger and disappointment falls away. Instead of the hard lined formed upon her lips, a small smile attempts to curl upon the edges and her brow relaxes as she studies the young girl before her.
“Everyone is looking for you: your grandpas and Uncle Puck and Aunt Santana and Aunt Brittany. We were worried something bad happened to you. You can’t just run off like that, sweetie,” states Quinn, shaking her head as her loose blond hair falls from her up-done hair and falls absently by her face. She takes a few steps toward her daughter whom only continues to stare down at the floor, deep within a pout. Quinn rolls her eyes with a quiet laugh and a soft shake of her head, how is it possible that someone can be so much like their mother? As if one Rachel Berry isn’t enough, she teases with a grin inwardly.
“I… I was j-just pwaying and then… then I saw Mama and.... she’s so pretty, Mommy,” Mia looks up from the floor in a sniffle, her brown eyes glistening wide with wonderment and awe. Her lips are puckering as she studies Quinn’s face and the blond smiles softly with a quaint nod. She is in love with Rachel; how could she not be? The blond walks to her daughter, slowly bending down on her knees to be eye level with the toddler.
“Am I in twouble, Mommy?” pouts Mia, batting her eyelashes carefully and Quinn feels herself melting at the little girl. She has been wrapped around Amelia Grace Berry-Fabray’s finger from the very moment that she entered the world; all five pounds and seven ounces and screaming to the top of her lungs in annoyance with the world. From the moment that she held her in her arms as they sat with Rachel, from the moment that she opened those eyes that she found herself falling into, just like her Mama’s. It annoys Rachel how much of a push over she is for their daughter but she simply cannot help it, she loves watching that happiness echo all over her tiny face.
“No, but you can’t tell your Mama that I lost you or else she will be really mad at Mommy. And we remember how that was like last time, don’t we?” Quinn offers with an arch of her eyebrow and Mia nods her head enthusiastically, her brown curls bouncing with every bob of her head.
“You swept on the couch!” exclaims Mia with incorrect grammar and Quinn chuckles, refusing to correct her because it is entirely too cute. She reaches out, tapping the toddler upon the nose and she giggles in a bright, beaming grin and Quinn finds herself falling in love all over again.
“Right and do you remember how grumpy Mama is when she’s mad at me?” Again, a fervent nod from the toddler.
“She wouldn’t let me watch The Lion King. Mama loves watching The Lion King wif me and singing along to the songs. She didn’t wanna do it that day,” Mia offers a pout and Quinn smiles, tapping her nose again with a giggle. Sometimes she wonders how she could be so insanely perfect.
How she could love someone so much that wasn’t her wife.
“Right and that wasn’t very fun. So, this will just be a secret between me and you, okay?” Quinn states with a heartfelt smile, turning her head slightly to the side. Mia does not take a second to ponder the opposition but instead quickly nods her head with a bright grin, throwing herself into her Mommy’s arms. Quinn almost tumbles backward at the sudden action but she quickly catches herself with her palm outstretched on the floor beneath them. The toddler wraps her arms behind her neck as she buries her face into her shoulder, breathing her in deeply. Quinn sighs happily, slowly rubbing the little girl’s back in comfort as they stand from their squatting position, carefully balancing their weight.
“Is it almost over, Mommy? I miss Mama.” Mia mumbles sleepily into her shoulder. Quinn smiles all knowingly at the toddler who is desperately trying to bury herself deep within her arms. Rachel is the one who puts her to sleep every night, Rachel is the one who knows exactly how she likes to be held and what songs she likes to hear, Rachel is the one who always has a way with her and she knows that no matter how hard she tries now, it is simply no comparison to the brunette diva.
“Do you want to see Mama, baby?” asks Quinn and Mia nods her head, rubbing her eyes with her fists as she fights the yawn and captures Quinn’s heart in the process. “Okay, but we have to be really quiet. Deal?”
“Dweal.” Yawns Mia, “See Mama now?” Quinn winks at the toddler before stepping closer to the curtain. Watching her step carefully, she finds the corner of the stage that is opened for entrance of the performers which just happens to be a perfect angle to see Rachel and for Rachel to see them. Mia’s eyes widen in excitement when she sees the singing brunette who clutches to another man on stage, a coo and awe of amazement echoes from her pursed lips. In fascination, the brunette climbs down from her Mommy’s arms and stands quietly in front of her, clutching tightly to her hand, watching her Mama on the stage.
“Hold my hand we’re halfway there,” Rachel sings, twirling around the stage as she takes the hand of Blaine, who ironically, is playing the part of Tony.
“Hold my hand, I’ll take you there, somehow,” They sing together in a beaming grin. Rachel glances off stage at the two of them and her grin instantly widens upon her face. Quinn smiles, leaning down to the toddler as she wraps her arm around her shoulder, pulling them together. Her eyes never leave her Broadway star of a wife; instead she only smiles quietly and softly before whispering into the toddler’s ear.
“You are beautiful. Just like her.” Quinn whispers in a coo and Mia smiles brightly.
“Just like Mama,” She whispers.
“Someday!” Rachel belts out the finale note as the crowd erupts in applause and approval. However, she is not interested in the audience or their applause or even taking credit for the talent that she clearly possesses. Instead, her eyes remain focused on her two favorite girls, the same bright, delirious smile plastered upon her face. Mia softly lifts her hand as she waves at her Mama and Rachel beams even brighter than humanly possible; she mouths the words I love you to the two of them with a quiet wink before she takes her final bow.
This is the moment that she has been dreaming of her entire life.
This is her dreams coming true with the loves of her life by her side.