Fic: A Christmas Miracle
Title: A Christmas Miracle
Pairing: Rachel/Quinn
Rating: G
Length: 1277
Spoilers: Nope
Summary: Future!fic. Welcome to the Fabray/Berry household. They are getting ready for the holidays, and Rachel is not very good at Christmas. Which is surprising, because she’s usually good at everything.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: It’s grdnofevrythng’s fault. Again. I also don’t come up with my own prompts anymore. I kind of like it. *grin* And I used the apparent go to for the name of Quinn’s daughter. I don’t like switching up what already works.
“Quinn, I just don’t understand why she needs so many presents when she’s getting eight nights of them.”
“Your holidays aren’t the only ones that matter, Rachel.”
“I’m not saying that.”
“That’s what you’re implying.”
Rachel sighed. They’d been having this argument for weeks now. They were trying so hard to keep their heads above water, but having a kid and paying off massive amounts of college loans made it difficult to put food on the table, let alone buy tons of gifts. “That’s not what I’m implying, babe.” She moved to take Quinn’s hands in her own. “I’m just worried about making our rent payment next month.”
“But it’s Christmas,” Quinn pulled away. “I’m getting approval to work some overtime, Rach. We’ll get by. We always do.” She looked at her girlfriend imploringly, “She deserves to open her presents from Santa.”
Rachel threw up her arms in frustration, “Except if he existed we wouldn’t have to worry about it!”
“Santa isn’t real?”
Quinn and Rachel turned their heads in surprise. Their six-year-old daughter stood in the doorway of their bedroom. Clearly not asleep as they had thought. Before they could say a word, Madison had run back to her room, slamming her door behind her. A second passed before they heard it creak open and a quiet “sorry,” before it clicked shut gently.
Quinn’s eyes dragged from the doorway, and she gaped at Rachel. She hissed, “What were you thinking?”
“That she was asleep!”
The blonde glared, “What are you going to do about it?”
“Me?” Rachel’s voice came out as a squeak. She cleared her throat before continuing, “Well, she’s six, Quinn. Maybe it’s time.”
“She’s six! Of course it’s not time,” Quinn whispered, though it came out more like a shout. “This is not okay, Rachel.”
“But, it’s not my fault! Judaism doesn’t encourage lying!”
“I don’t want to hear excuses. Just fix it.”
“But,” Rachel pouted, “how?”
“I don’t care how,” Quinn responded angrily. “Just do it. Dress up as Santa if you have to.”
Rachel’s jaw dropped and she stared at Quinn, stunned. “Have you seen me? I could maybe pass as an elf, but not the jolly fat man himself.”
Quinn almost laughed at that. Almost. “Rachel, I’m telling you you’d better fix this.”
Rachel headed toward Madison’s room as if she was marching to her executioner. She glanced back over her shoulder once and Quinn made a shooing motion, urging her on.
Rachel tapped on Madison’s door, but got no response. She opened the door slowly. “Maddy?”
“Go away.”
Rachel blinked. The image of the little girl curled up on her bed facing the wall gave her an odd sense of déjà vu. She knew there was no biological relationship, so it should have been impossible, but Madison reminded her so much of herself at that age. It was very upsetting for Rachel when her parents told her that The Little Mermaid was not a true story. She was traumatized. She suddenly understood Quinn’s point. She didn’t want Madison to have the ability to believe just taken away from her.
She frowned but crossed the distance to the bed, setting herself at the edge and running her fingers through soft blonde hair. Her heart broke a little when she heard a quiet sob. “Oh, sweetie.” She stretched out on her back and pulled the little girl to her. She started softly humming Dona Nobis Pacem. It was her comfort song for her daughter that she had started singing back when Quinn was still pregnant with her. Whenever Maddy was sick or sad, Rachel would crawl into bed with her, holding her while she sang gently. It never failed to calm the girl. Soon, Madison was silent, just listening. Rachel ended the song.
Madison broke the silence first. “What did you mean about Santa, Mommy?”
Rachel let out a breath slowly, still playing with the girl’s hair. “You know I don’t always make a lot of sense, little one.” She felt Madison nod against her. “It’s just that sometimes I forget. Because Santa didn’t come for me when I was little.”
Madison pulled back, wide eyed as she looked at Rachel. “Were you a bad girl?”
Rachel smiled reassuringly, “No. I was good.” Madison put her head back down on Rachel’s shoulder, and she continued. “You are extra special, Maddy, because you get to celebrate more holidays than most people do. I didn’t have Christmas, because I’m Jewish. You have two mommies who bring you different traditions. Santa doesn’t visit Jewish children, not because they are bad, but because they already celebrate Hanukkah.” Rachel paused, clearing her head. She never would have thought that at 23 years of age she would be laying in bed, consoling her daughter. She’d had moments like this before, but when she saw Quinn’s head peeking in the doorway, she gave her girlfriend a dazzling smile. There was nowhere she’d rather be.
“But, I celebrate Hanukkah,” Madison’s small voice broke through Rachel’s thoughts. “Does that mean Santa won’t come for me?”
Rachel reasoned, “Has he ever skipped you before?”
“No,” the girl whispered.
“Then what makes you think he’d stop now?” She felt the small girl shrug, and she went on, “I’m sorry for what I said. I can sometimes get a little jealous. That’s why it’s good that I have you and your mom to remind me when I’m being silly.”
Quinn entered the room, crawling up the small twin-sized bed to snuggle Madison from the opposite side. She let one hand drape over Rachel, too. They smiled at each other over Madison’s head and Quinn mouthed the words, ‘I love you.’ “I have to remind her a lot,” Quinn whispered teasingly to her daughter.
“Hey,” Rachel replied, without much fight.
Madison giggled, conceding, “She is kind of silly.”
Rachel attempted to scowl, but the smile on her little girl’s face was too much for her. “Only sometimes.”
Quinn kissed Madison on the forehead. “Okay. It’s late, you. You should have been asleep.” She raised an eyebrow at her daughter.
“But I had a bad dream.”
“Well, I guess in that case we can lay here a little longer. Maybe Mommy will sing to us,” Quinn grinned at Rachel.
Rachel, never one to turn down a captive audience, agreed with a condition, “Only if you’ll sing with me,” she told Quinn.
They sang Imagine together for Madison, and by the time they reached the end, the tiny child had fallen back to sleep. They slid off the bed as carefully as possible, and Rachel dropped a kiss on Madison’s head, whispering, “G’night, little one.”
Quinn pulled her by the hand out of the room and back to their own. “You did that pretty well,” she admitted.
Rachel grinned, “You say that like you doubted me.” She placed her hands on Quinn’s hips, drawing her closer. “I’m talented, babe.”
“Oh, I know.”
The brunette tugged her, closing the remaining distance between them. Pressing their hips together, she placed a chaste kiss on Quinn’s lips, “You were right.”
“I know that, too.”
“I’m sorry,” Rachel looked down bashfully.
Quinn kissed her again tenderly. “It’s okay. You do have a point. We can’t afford to go overboard.” She smiled and pushed Rachel back to their bed. “I feel the need to reward you for your quick thinking. Plus you should show off those other talents.”
“You don’t think it was just a Christmas miracle?”
Quinn laughed. “It’ll be a Christmas miracle if you can stop talking long enough to not slip up again.”
Rachel’s brow furrowed, but she soon forgot what upset her. Quinn’s lips had that effect.
Pairing: Rachel/Quinn
Rating: G
Length: 1277
Spoilers: Nope
Summary: Future!fic. Welcome to the Fabray/Berry household. They are getting ready for the holidays, and Rachel is not very good at Christmas. Which is surprising, because she’s usually good at everything.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: It’s grdnofevrythng’s fault. Again. I also don’t come up with my own prompts anymore. I kind of like it. *grin* And I used the apparent go to for the name of Quinn’s daughter. I don’t like switching up what already works.
“Quinn, I just don’t understand why she needs so many presents when she’s getting eight nights of them.”
“Your holidays aren’t the only ones that matter, Rachel.”
“I’m not saying that.”
“That’s what you’re implying.”
Rachel sighed. They’d been having this argument for weeks now. They were trying so hard to keep their heads above water, but having a kid and paying off massive amounts of college loans made it difficult to put food on the table, let alone buy tons of gifts. “That’s not what I’m implying, babe.” She moved to take Quinn’s hands in her own. “I’m just worried about making our rent payment next month.”
“But it’s Christmas,” Quinn pulled away. “I’m getting approval to work some overtime, Rach. We’ll get by. We always do.” She looked at her girlfriend imploringly, “She deserves to open her presents from Santa.”
Rachel threw up her arms in frustration, “Except if he existed we wouldn’t have to worry about it!”
“Santa isn’t real?”
Quinn and Rachel turned their heads in surprise. Their six-year-old daughter stood in the doorway of their bedroom. Clearly not asleep as they had thought. Before they could say a word, Madison had run back to her room, slamming her door behind her. A second passed before they heard it creak open and a quiet “sorry,” before it clicked shut gently.
Quinn’s eyes dragged from the doorway, and she gaped at Rachel. She hissed, “What were you thinking?”
“That she was asleep!”
The blonde glared, “What are you going to do about it?”
“Me?” Rachel’s voice came out as a squeak. She cleared her throat before continuing, “Well, she’s six, Quinn. Maybe it’s time.”
“She’s six! Of course it’s not time,” Quinn whispered, though it came out more like a shout. “This is not okay, Rachel.”
“But, it’s not my fault! Judaism doesn’t encourage lying!”
“I don’t want to hear excuses. Just fix it.”
“But,” Rachel pouted, “how?”
“I don’t care how,” Quinn responded angrily. “Just do it. Dress up as Santa if you have to.”
Rachel’s jaw dropped and she stared at Quinn, stunned. “Have you seen me? I could maybe pass as an elf, but not the jolly fat man himself.”
Quinn almost laughed at that. Almost. “Rachel, I’m telling you you’d better fix this.”
Rachel headed toward Madison’s room as if she was marching to her executioner. She glanced back over her shoulder once and Quinn made a shooing motion, urging her on.
Rachel tapped on Madison’s door, but got no response. She opened the door slowly. “Maddy?”
“Go away.”
Rachel blinked. The image of the little girl curled up on her bed facing the wall gave her an odd sense of déjà vu. She knew there was no biological relationship, so it should have been impossible, but Madison reminded her so much of herself at that age. It was very upsetting for Rachel when her parents told her that The Little Mermaid was not a true story. She was traumatized. She suddenly understood Quinn’s point. She didn’t want Madison to have the ability to believe just taken away from her.
She frowned but crossed the distance to the bed, setting herself at the edge and running her fingers through soft blonde hair. Her heart broke a little when she heard a quiet sob. “Oh, sweetie.” She stretched out on her back and pulled the little girl to her. She started softly humming Dona Nobis Pacem. It was her comfort song for her daughter that she had started singing back when Quinn was still pregnant with her. Whenever Maddy was sick or sad, Rachel would crawl into bed with her, holding her while she sang gently. It never failed to calm the girl. Soon, Madison was silent, just listening. Rachel ended the song.
Madison broke the silence first. “What did you mean about Santa, Mommy?”
Rachel let out a breath slowly, still playing with the girl’s hair. “You know I don’t always make a lot of sense, little one.” She felt Madison nod against her. “It’s just that sometimes I forget. Because Santa didn’t come for me when I was little.”
Madison pulled back, wide eyed as she looked at Rachel. “Were you a bad girl?”
Rachel smiled reassuringly, “No. I was good.” Madison put her head back down on Rachel’s shoulder, and she continued. “You are extra special, Maddy, because you get to celebrate more holidays than most people do. I didn’t have Christmas, because I’m Jewish. You have two mommies who bring you different traditions. Santa doesn’t visit Jewish children, not because they are bad, but because they already celebrate Hanukkah.” Rachel paused, clearing her head. She never would have thought that at 23 years of age she would be laying in bed, consoling her daughter. She’d had moments like this before, but when she saw Quinn’s head peeking in the doorway, she gave her girlfriend a dazzling smile. There was nowhere she’d rather be.
“But, I celebrate Hanukkah,” Madison’s small voice broke through Rachel’s thoughts. “Does that mean Santa won’t come for me?”
Rachel reasoned, “Has he ever skipped you before?”
“No,” the girl whispered.
“Then what makes you think he’d stop now?” She felt the small girl shrug, and she went on, “I’m sorry for what I said. I can sometimes get a little jealous. That’s why it’s good that I have you and your mom to remind me when I’m being silly.”
Quinn entered the room, crawling up the small twin-sized bed to snuggle Madison from the opposite side. She let one hand drape over Rachel, too. They smiled at each other over Madison’s head and Quinn mouthed the words, ‘I love you.’ “I have to remind her a lot,” Quinn whispered teasingly to her daughter.
“Hey,” Rachel replied, without much fight.
Madison giggled, conceding, “She is kind of silly.”
Rachel attempted to scowl, but the smile on her little girl’s face was too much for her. “Only sometimes.”
Quinn kissed Madison on the forehead. “Okay. It’s late, you. You should have been asleep.” She raised an eyebrow at her daughter.
“But I had a bad dream.”
“Well, I guess in that case we can lay here a little longer. Maybe Mommy will sing to us,” Quinn grinned at Rachel.
Rachel, never one to turn down a captive audience, agreed with a condition, “Only if you’ll sing with me,” she told Quinn.
They sang Imagine together for Madison, and by the time they reached the end, the tiny child had fallen back to sleep. They slid off the bed as carefully as possible, and Rachel dropped a kiss on Madison’s head, whispering, “G’night, little one.”
Quinn pulled her by the hand out of the room and back to their own. “You did that pretty well,” she admitted.
Rachel grinned, “You say that like you doubted me.” She placed her hands on Quinn’s hips, drawing her closer. “I’m talented, babe.”
“Oh, I know.”
The brunette tugged her, closing the remaining distance between them. Pressing their hips together, she placed a chaste kiss on Quinn’s lips, “You were right.”
“I know that, too.”
“I’m sorry,” Rachel looked down bashfully.
Quinn kissed her again tenderly. “It’s okay. You do have a point. We can’t afford to go overboard.” She smiled and pushed Rachel back to their bed. “I feel the need to reward you for your quick thinking. Plus you should show off those other talents.”
“You don’t think it was just a Christmas miracle?”
Quinn laughed. “It’ll be a Christmas miracle if you can stop talking long enough to not slip up again.”
Rachel’s brow furrowed, but she soon forgot what upset her. Quinn’s lips had that effect.