fic: best I ever had.
title: best I ever had.
author: lucklessforhim
pairing: Rachel/Quinn
word count: ~1200
rating: PG-13-ish?
summary: Quinn is nervous about meeting Rachel's dads.
notes: My first time ever writing faberry. Please, please leave me a comment to let me know how I did! (also for people that know the Vertical Horizon song of the same name, this is not a breakup fic.)
“Here we are!” Rachel chirps, pulling into the driveway and parking behind her Daddy’s Volvo.
“Goody.” Coming from someone that’s so often described as lovely, the sarcasm is jarring. It would be out of place if Rachel didn’t know her so well.
Quinn fidgets, looking down at her perfect, pale pink fingernails as Rachel slides as close as the center console will allow.
“They’re going to love you.”
Her honey-blonde locks are swept back in an elegant chignon today, for the special occasion, but Rachel can see phantoms of the wavy tips brushing her love’s shoulders as she shakes her head. She leans forward, kissing her cheek softly, taking care not to mess up Quinn’s makeup.
“How do you know?”
Rachel doesn’t even blink.
“Because I love you.”
Quinn looks up, dabbing at the corner of her eyes with her ring finger, desperately trying to dry her watering eyes while avoiding smudging her mascara.
“But…I made your life miserable. I said awful things to you.” She looks over at Rachel, the thought of what she’d done being far more devastating than the possibility of Rachel’s parents rejecting her.
Rachel clears her throat slightly. “That…wasn’t fun. But it’s history now. They’re going to love you.”
Quinn closes her eyes, recalling a breathing technique that she learned more than a decade ago.
“I’ve never done this before.”
It’s so quiet that Rachel’s sure she didn’t hear her correctly, and she frowns, shifting in her seat.
“But…you’ve met parents before. You lived with Puck and Finn.” She shakes her head just slightly, bringing a hand up to shield the rearview mirror from the setting sun. They were never supposed to be in the car this long.
Quinn makes a delicate noise of frustration in the back of her throat. “Yes, but. I’ve never met my girlfriend’s parents before.”
Rachel tries to stifle a smile because she knows that Quinn is genuinely distressed about this.
“It’s not…so different from meeting a boy’s parents.” She pauses, wondering what might make her feel better about this, before very seriously whispering, “Actually, you’re right. This is different because you’re going to be meeting my dads. You-- You really don’t have to worry about them accepting this part of you.”
Unlike your family. That goes unsaid because it’s just better that way. She doesn’t need to be reminded of that night a couple of months ago. It’s part of why it’s taken so long to get her to agree to meet Rachel’s parents.
They were all set. They would do Quinn’s parents on Saturday evening, then Rachel’s on Sunday. But when they walked into the house holding hands, everything went to hell. Rachel stood in the corner as Quinn sat on the ottoman in front of the fireplace, her pretty yellow dress spread out neatly, taking fire from all sides. Rachel had been warned, ‘It’s going to get ugly, but just stay out of it.’ It seemed like everyone but Quinn’s mother had something to say, but Judy was just mumbling ‘she had a baby’ in between gulps of vodka tonic, so that wasn’t much better.
Finally, Quinn sent her a pleading look with tear-filled green eyes, and it was time to go. That was also the moment that Quinn’s sister chose to throw her Bible.
Later that night, as Rachel peeled Quinn’s panties off her hips, frowning down at the bruise marring her milky-white hip, Quinn would insist with a wavering voice that her sister didn’t mean it. ‘She was just frustrated.’ But Rachel’s heart broke at the way their hatred had literally injured her love, and she shook her head, cutting off any further defense. This was inexcusable.
And if pressed now for an answer as to why she bothered defending Frannie in the first place, Quinn would be unable to find one.
So, meeting the fathers Berry had to be put off…until tonight.
Their arrival has been eagerly prepared for. Rachel knows that the special roasted potatoes she requested for tonight are in the oven. There are freshly cut roses at the center of the table, lavender and white. And, most importantly to her dads, Rachel’s photo albums (birth to age 10) are meticulously laid across the coffee table in a way that’s meant to seem casual.
They can’t back out. They just can’t.
“Do they know? How awful I was to you?” It’s quiet, remorseful, sullen, and Quinn is back to staring at her perfect, pale pink fingernails.
Rachel falters. “Th-they know…some stuff. But it was so long ago. I’m sure they don’t care about it anymore.”
“Did they care when you got back together with Jesse? With Finn? With…any of the guys that treated you like less than you’re worth?”
Rachel hesitates. It’s barely longer than a heartbeat, but it tells Quinn everything she’s been convinced of.
“They won’t be mad at you,” Rachel insists, covering Quinn’s hands with one of hers. “They just want to meet this wonderful person that’s made me so happy.”
Quinn blushes adorably, shaking her head, and she starts to smile as Rachel leans forward to rest her forehead against her temple.
Quinn has secrets, and she whispers them in the middle of the night from across the bed. Sometimes when Rachel is awake, memorizing the way the moonlight flows over her bare curves, and sometimes when she thinks no one but the kitten is listening.
“You make me happier than I’ve ever been.”
This is one of those secrets. Even though it’s sunset, even though she’s told Rachel that before, even though she’ll say it a million times, and proclaim it to people that they love and people that they hate. It will never stop being one of those little secrets.
Rachel smiles, her chest warming and her stomach fluttering as she closes her eyes and kisses Quinn; soft, full lips covered in sweet mint lip balm moving with even fuller ones wearing lip stain the color of a soft merlot. It’s everything no one else has ever been for either of them; soft, gentle, patient and kind.
It’s the kind of kiss that Rachel wants for the rest of her life, which only makes tonight that much more important.
“I love you, Quinn.”
Quinn tears up a little, and Rachel reaches forward to stop the tears from wrecking the mascara that she so meticulously applied for this evening.
“I love you, too.” Quinn sniffles a little before taking a deep breath. “Okay. I can do this. If you don’t let go of my hand…I can do this.”
Rachel laughs, finally removing the key from the ignition. “They’re really not that scary.”
Throwing her a look, Quinn opens the door and climbs out of the car. Rachel’s eyes follow her every movement as she wiggles her foot in her pump, getting used to standing on the heel for a moment before she straightens the skirt of her dress, bending slightly to brush it smoothly over her knees.
“Come on,” Rachel beams, holding out her hand for Quinn to take.
Quinn reaches out with shy smile, immediately lacing her fingers with Rachel’s. As they walk up the path to her fathers’ front porch, Rachel can’t help but think that this might be the happiest she’s ever been…so far.
&.
the end.
author: lucklessforhim
pairing: Rachel/Quinn
word count: ~1200
rating: PG-13-ish?
summary: Quinn is nervous about meeting Rachel's dads.
notes: My first time ever writing faberry. Please, please leave me a comment to let me know how I did! (also for people that know the Vertical Horizon song of the same name, this is not a breakup fic.)
“Here we are!” Rachel chirps, pulling into the driveway and parking behind her Daddy’s Volvo.
“Goody.” Coming from someone that’s so often described as lovely, the sarcasm is jarring. It would be out of place if Rachel didn’t know her so well.
Quinn fidgets, looking down at her perfect, pale pink fingernails as Rachel slides as close as the center console will allow.
“They’re going to love you.”
Her honey-blonde locks are swept back in an elegant chignon today, for the special occasion, but Rachel can see phantoms of the wavy tips brushing her love’s shoulders as she shakes her head. She leans forward, kissing her cheek softly, taking care not to mess up Quinn’s makeup.
“How do you know?”
Rachel doesn’t even blink.
“Because I love you.”
Quinn looks up, dabbing at the corner of her eyes with her ring finger, desperately trying to dry her watering eyes while avoiding smudging her mascara.
“But…I made your life miserable. I said awful things to you.” She looks over at Rachel, the thought of what she’d done being far more devastating than the possibility of Rachel’s parents rejecting her.
Rachel clears her throat slightly. “That…wasn’t fun. But it’s history now. They’re going to love you.”
Quinn closes her eyes, recalling a breathing technique that she learned more than a decade ago.
“I’ve never done this before.”
It’s so quiet that Rachel’s sure she didn’t hear her correctly, and she frowns, shifting in her seat.
“But…you’ve met parents before. You lived with Puck and Finn.” She shakes her head just slightly, bringing a hand up to shield the rearview mirror from the setting sun. They were never supposed to be in the car this long.
Quinn makes a delicate noise of frustration in the back of her throat. “Yes, but. I’ve never met my girlfriend’s parents before.”
Rachel tries to stifle a smile because she knows that Quinn is genuinely distressed about this.
“It’s not…so different from meeting a boy’s parents.” She pauses, wondering what might make her feel better about this, before very seriously whispering, “Actually, you’re right. This is different because you’re going to be meeting my dads. You-- You really don’t have to worry about them accepting this part of you.”
Unlike your family. That goes unsaid because it’s just better that way. She doesn’t need to be reminded of that night a couple of months ago. It’s part of why it’s taken so long to get her to agree to meet Rachel’s parents.
They were all set. They would do Quinn’s parents on Saturday evening, then Rachel’s on Sunday. But when they walked into the house holding hands, everything went to hell. Rachel stood in the corner as Quinn sat on the ottoman in front of the fireplace, her pretty yellow dress spread out neatly, taking fire from all sides. Rachel had been warned, ‘It’s going to get ugly, but just stay out of it.’ It seemed like everyone but Quinn’s mother had something to say, but Judy was just mumbling ‘she had a baby’ in between gulps of vodka tonic, so that wasn’t much better.
Finally, Quinn sent her a pleading look with tear-filled green eyes, and it was time to go. That was also the moment that Quinn’s sister chose to throw her Bible.
Later that night, as Rachel peeled Quinn’s panties off her hips, frowning down at the bruise marring her milky-white hip, Quinn would insist with a wavering voice that her sister didn’t mean it. ‘She was just frustrated.’ But Rachel’s heart broke at the way their hatred had literally injured her love, and she shook her head, cutting off any further defense. This was inexcusable.
And if pressed now for an answer as to why she bothered defending Frannie in the first place, Quinn would be unable to find one.
So, meeting the fathers Berry had to be put off…until tonight.
Their arrival has been eagerly prepared for. Rachel knows that the special roasted potatoes she requested for tonight are in the oven. There are freshly cut roses at the center of the table, lavender and white. And, most importantly to her dads, Rachel’s photo albums (birth to age 10) are meticulously laid across the coffee table in a way that’s meant to seem casual.
They can’t back out. They just can’t.
“Do they know? How awful I was to you?” It’s quiet, remorseful, sullen, and Quinn is back to staring at her perfect, pale pink fingernails.
Rachel falters. “Th-they know…some stuff. But it was so long ago. I’m sure they don’t care about it anymore.”
“Did they care when you got back together with Jesse? With Finn? With…any of the guys that treated you like less than you’re worth?”
Rachel hesitates. It’s barely longer than a heartbeat, but it tells Quinn everything she’s been convinced of.
“They won’t be mad at you,” Rachel insists, covering Quinn’s hands with one of hers. “They just want to meet this wonderful person that’s made me so happy.”
Quinn blushes adorably, shaking her head, and she starts to smile as Rachel leans forward to rest her forehead against her temple.
Quinn has secrets, and she whispers them in the middle of the night from across the bed. Sometimes when Rachel is awake, memorizing the way the moonlight flows over her bare curves, and sometimes when she thinks no one but the kitten is listening.
“You make me happier than I’ve ever been.”
This is one of those secrets. Even though it’s sunset, even though she’s told Rachel that before, even though she’ll say it a million times, and proclaim it to people that they love and people that they hate. It will never stop being one of those little secrets.
Rachel smiles, her chest warming and her stomach fluttering as she closes her eyes and kisses Quinn; soft, full lips covered in sweet mint lip balm moving with even fuller ones wearing lip stain the color of a soft merlot. It’s everything no one else has ever been for either of them; soft, gentle, patient and kind.
It’s the kind of kiss that Rachel wants for the rest of her life, which only makes tonight that much more important.
“I love you, Quinn.”
Quinn tears up a little, and Rachel reaches forward to stop the tears from wrecking the mascara that she so meticulously applied for this evening.
“I love you, too.” Quinn sniffles a little before taking a deep breath. “Okay. I can do this. If you don’t let go of my hand…I can do this.”
Rachel laughs, finally removing the key from the ignition. “They’re really not that scary.”
Throwing her a look, Quinn opens the door and climbs out of the car. Rachel’s eyes follow her every movement as she wiggles her foot in her pump, getting used to standing on the heel for a moment before she straightens the skirt of her dress, bending slightly to brush it smoothly over her knees.
“Come on,” Rachel beams, holding out her hand for Quinn to take.
Quinn reaches out with shy smile, immediately lacing her fingers with Rachel’s. As they walk up the path to her fathers’ front porch, Rachel can’t help but think that this might be the happiest she’s ever been…so far.
&.
the end.