Head Full of Doubt, Road Full of Promise (6/8)
Title: Head Full of Doubt, Road Full of Promise (6/8)
Fandom: Glee
Pairings: Rachel/Quinn; Rachel/Finn
Rating: Still NC-17.
Spoilers: Up through "Sectionals"
Word Count: 7,155
Description: Rachel's answer to Quinn's melancholia is to take her on a summer road trip with the gleeks.
Note: The characters are fake, but the places are real. All the attractions mentioned in this story are actual places, if you ever find yourself on a cross-country road trip.
Previous Parts:
[ Part 1] [ Part 2] [ Part 3] [ Part 4] [ Part 5]
Song Referenced in This Part:
The Watson Twins - "Just Like Heaven" ("Rachel's version")
After all this time on the road, nothing seemed real anymore.
The scenery outside the car transitioned from green forest to yellow desert to gray steel metropolis, but they eventually all started to look the same. The towns and cities became indistinguishable. The days bled together. They no longer traveled under the pretense of sightseeing; they were driving for the sake of driving. It didn't matter where they were or when they were there. The two of them drifted in a vacuum where time, places and faces meant nothing.
Sometimes it felt a lot like going mad.
At night, they regained their sanity by tearing at one another's clothes, trailing their mouths along hot skin, digging their finger into soft flesh, burying and losing themselves in each other. With oblivion all around them, they clung on to each other for hours for comfort and safety. Nothing seemed real anymore, but that was a good thing, because Quinn probably couldn't do this if it did. On the road, she was no longer Quinn Fabray, ex-Cheerio and daughter of dutiful Christians from a small podunk town in Ohio who got knocked up at sixteen by her boyfriend's best friend. On the road, she was just a nameless girl with someone she trusted by her side.
It was crazy like this, and it was easy. It was disorientating like this, and it was good.
Sometimes it felt a little like drowning.
But Quinn liked it that way.
***
Twin Falls, ID
She saw a voicemail message on her phone.
"Quinn." Her mother's voice on the line. It's been exactly 28 days since they left Lima. This is the first time she has called. "Your father wants to know-"
Quinn pressed a button, and her mother's voice is replaced by an automated and more human voice:
"Message deleted."
***
Weatherby, OR
A bright red plastic ball bounced off of the back of Rachel's head.
When she turned around, she found a pug-nosed boy, maybe seven or eight years old, standing in the middle of the ball pit in the play area of the McDonald's where she and Quinn were eating lunch. Rachel smiled graciously and decided to let it go. She turned her attention back to Quinn. Everything was okay until she felt herself being pelted with another plastic ball. She ignored that too. And the next one. And the one after that. Quinn was starting to giggle.
"Thanks a lot," Rachel said to her dryly.
"I think he just has a little crush," Quin replied lightly as another plastic ball bounced off of Rachel's shoulder. "He's only aiming for you."
Rachel craned her neck around to look for the hellion's parents. She spotted them in a corner, preoccupied with trying to fend off five even unrulier brats. Rachel looked for the manager next, but there was only a stoned-looking teenager behind the counter playing with his phone. He was the one who took their order. They repeated it three times and he still got it wrong. Rachel decided that he was going to be no help at all.
"Very well," she said evenly as yet another ball struck her. "I'll just have to take matters into my own hands." Quinn was nearly doubled over with laughter by this point until she heard what Rachel said. She straightened up quickly.
"No, wait. What? Rach, what are you going to do?"
But Rachel was already halfway there. The boy was clutching another ball in his hands. When she approached, he squealed, flung the ball at her, and retreated further into the ball pit. Quinn gaped as Rachel took off her shoes and climbed right into the pit. The boy threw another ball. This one Rachel caught.
"I know that your mental faculties are still at the prepubescent stage, but I'd like for you to try and follow along. People don't like it when you throw things at them, regardless of what your intentions are. Now, I see your parents over there with a number of children, whom I presume to be your siblings. That must be difficult for you. Perhaps you feel that you're constantly in competition with your siblings for your parents' affection and that's why you resort to such attention-seeking behavior. However, I'm afraid that this type of behavior will not earn you very many friends." She held the ball out to him. "Next time, perhaps you should try a simple hello."
The boy stared at her. Then he made a face.
"You're weird." He stuck his tongue at her and ran (well, waded) out of the ball pit to rejoin his family. Quinn stood by the entrance of the ball pit, having positioned herself there in case she needed to break up any acts of violence. Not from Rachel - who was really a pacifist - but from the boy. Kids could be little monsters and Rachel was, well, Rachel. Even perfectly rational adults got the urge to smack her from time to time. But don't get Quinn wrong. Regardless of whether Rachel deserved it, if that boy had laid a finger on her, Quinn would have no qualms giving a seven-or-eight year old child a thrashing. Or at least a good spanking.
"You really needed to do that?"
"Of course. He needed to understand that his behavior is not acceptable."
"His behavior?" Quinn gestured at her. "You're standing in the middle of a McDonald's play pen."
"So?"
"So it's meant for children."
"So?"
"You're not a child."
"So?"
"You're annoying."
In response, Rachel threw the ball that she still held in her hands. It bounced off Quinn's forehead, leaving Quinn looking surprised and indignant.
"Hey!" Okay, so that wasn't the best comeback she's ever had.
"What are you going to do about it?" Rachel was smirking. Smirking. The gauntlet had been thrown. Quinn slipped off her shoes and climbed in. She was barely in when Rachel threw another ball.
"Stop that!" Quinn commanded; it only elicited a giggle from Rachel, who then proceeded to toss two more balls her way. Quinn tried to retaliate, but her aim was horrid. She missed all three shots she took while plastic balls were bouncing off her body. She finally managed to chase Rachel down, grabbing on to her wrists so that the she couldn't pelt her with anymore with her freakishly good aim.
"You're going to get us kicked out!" Quinn's admonishment would carry a lot more weight if she wasn't breathless from laughing.
"So what? Nobody here knows us," Rachel said. "And nobody cares." That was true. The only other costumers were busy trying to restrain their hoard of children; the only employee who seemed to be there hadn't looked up from his phone once. Rachel's words were an epiphany to Quinn.
"Nobody here knows us." Awe was evident in Quinn's tone. She wrapped her arms around Rachel's waist, pulling the shorter girl close to her.
"Quinn?" Rachel asked nervously. "What are you doing?" It wasn't that she didn't like Quinn touching her - she very much did - but Quinn never touched her in public like this. No matter what they did the night before, in the morning they were always just friends again. Outside of their hotel room, Quinn never wanted to hold hands or kiss or touch in any way beyond the occasional friendly hug.
"Nobody here knows us," Quinn repeated, before she pressed her lips to Rachel's.
***
Kennewick, WA
She received a text from Finn that read, hey what u up 2?? It annoyed her that he couldn't type out full words.
She hadn't been taking any of his calls. It would have felt really wrong to carry on with him the way she did before. Although Rachel never talked about it with Quinn, she was relatively certain that the blonde didn't like the things that Rachel was doing with him. It was Rachel's natural instinct to call Finn and explain the situation to him in great detail, except that she was also relatively certain that Quinn didn't want their situation explained. So in the end, the only thing she could do was to ignore him. She felt guilty for doing it. But then she thought of Quinn. She chose her side.
She read the text again. Then, without replying, she hit delete.
It really annoyed her that he couldn't type out full words.
***
Seattle, WA
They had gotten into Seattle late last night, and they had a plan to spend the morning touring the city before they went off to their next destination.
This morning, Rachel stepped out from the shower, dressed herself in nothing but her underwear and a shirt, and went to wake Quinn so that they could start their day. But Quinn was already awake when she stepped out into the room, sitting upright in bed, her hair mussed and sticking out every which way. Rachel found it really damn sexy.
"Good morning," Rachel greeted happily. Quinn didn't return the greeting. She just sat there, gazing at Rachel with an intensity that Rachel had never seen before. The unfamiliarity made Rachel a little concerned. "Quinn? Are you okay?"
Quinn held her hand out. She crooked her index finger, beckoning Rachel forth. The brunette fidgeted uneasily, unsure of what was happening. Being with Quinn was not unlike being with a bipolar tiger on cocaine. You just never knew what she was going to do next. But sometimes that was part of the thrill. Rachel approached cautiously.
"Quinn?" she asked apprehensively. "Are you feeling-"
As soon as she was within reaching distance, Quinn reached out with both hands, seizing Rachel by the hips. She tugged hard, dragging Rachel down to the bed. Rachel squealed as she felt her back hit the mattress. She moaned as she felt Quinn pulling her underwear off. She gasped as she felt Quinn's tongue suddenly and insistently pushing its way inside her. She felt herself clench, and knew that she was already wet. It was almost embarrassing how eagerly and instantaneously aroused she was, but Rachel didn't give a damn about any of that now that Quinn was lapping against her clit.
She writhed and squirmed with intense pleasure, trying to restrain herself so that she didn't thrust her hips in Quinn's face. It felt good, excruciatingly good. Rachel had no idea that anything in the world could feel like this. It didn't seem like it could get any better than this. Until Quinn managed to get her lips around the clit and sucked. Rachel emitted a throaty moan so loud that it must have woken up the people next door. She flung out one arm above her head, groping blindly under she found a pillow, and dragged it over, covering her face with it. She couldn't rely on sheer self-control to stop herself from making another noise like that.
She pressed the pillow against her face to muffle her screams while Quinn experimentally burrowed her tongue in, deep as she can, before pulling out and turning her attention back to Rachel's clit. It was as if Quinn couldn't make up her mind on what she wanted to do. She alternated between both while she decided. She took her sweet time in doing so, all the while Rachel was grunting and wailing desperately for release. Rachel no longer cared about taking care not to thrust her hips in Quinn's face; she was bucking every which way, just dying for the climax.
Quinn was, of course, perfectly aware of this. It made her feel powerful. More powerful than when she commanded a squad of Cheerios, more powerful when she snapped at the social losers in the McKinley corridors, more powerful than when she had Finn or Puck wrapped around her little finger. She took her time because she wanted this moment to last forever. She relished the feel of Rachel's folds against her tongue, the musk of Rachel's scent, the taste of her. Quinn finally decided on a course of action: she pushed her tongue up against the sensitive nub while her fingers prowled, two of them easing their way into Rachel's depth. As soon as her fingers slipped in, Rachel came, her cries only subdued by the fact that she was biting hard down on the pillow. Quinn continued the torturing strokes, each lap matching the shuddering waves passing through Rachel.
When Quinn finally stopped, she trailed kisses up along Rachel's body, against the swell of her hips, against her heaving breasts underneath the t-shirt she still wore, until she reached the collarbone. She pulled the pillow away, and kissed Rachel's neck gently before settling in, resting her head against Rachel's shoulders. She waited for Rachel to regain her senses. At last, Rachel calmed her gasping breaths, and asked,
"Did you just kiss my neck?"
Quinn chuckled, the hot air from her breath tickling Rachel's skin.
"I think I just did a lot more than that."
"Uh-huh," Rachel said numbly. "And where did that come from?"
"I don't know. I woke up with the strangest urge to do it." Quinn's hand caressed the length of Rachel's body soothingly. "Are you okay with it?"
"Oh, now you ask me."
"I guess I should have checked with you first."
"That's all right." Rachel placed a kiss against the blonde's forehead. "I wasn't exactly complaining."
"Yeah, I got that much."
"So..." Rachel started slowly. "When do I get to try it?"
Later, they both agreed that they wanted to spend an extra night in Seattle.
Interestingly enough, they never got around to seeing any part of Seattle besides the four walls of the hotel room.
***
Bellingham, WA
While Quinn was in the shower, Rachel spoke to both of her fathers on the phone. They were very upset, but she already knew that they would be. Tina had called her earlier that day. She was at the supermarket with her mom when they ran into Mr. Schue, and Mrs. Cohen-Chang discovered that Mr. Schue was in fact not Southern. The scheme unraveled. Mrs. Cohen-Chang subsequently called the Berrys because everyone knew that the trip was Rachel's idea.
"We raised you better than this," Rachel's Daddy admonished. Hearing the disappointment in her fathers' voices hurt worse than anything else she's ever experienced.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she repeated again and again. "I'm so sorry, but I had to-"
"No more excuses," her Dad said sternly. "You're coming home. Right now."
"Dad, I can't do that. I promise, just little bit more time."
"Young lady, you have lost your mind. School is starting soon! I will get on a plane and drag you back home if I have to."
Rachel pleaded and begged. In the end, she simply outright refused.
"Rachel." Her Dad sounded so calm that it was scary. "If you don't come back right now, we will cancel your credit card. And then when you get home, we will forbid you from seeing Quinn ever again because this girl is obviously a terrible influence on you."
Rachel was silent. She could hear the shower being turned off, and knew that she couldn't carry on this conversation for much longer. She took a deep breath, and said,
"Do what you have to do."
And for the first time in her life, Rachel hung up on her fathers.
They called back later that night. Quinn had already fallen asleep, and Rachel stepped into the hallway to take the call.
"Your Dad has something to say to you," her Daddy said frostily, although Rachel knew that this time it wasn't her that he was angry with.
"Bubbala, I'm sorry," her Dad said gently. "I was wrong to speak to you like that. A family doesn't use threats. A family communicates with one another. Your Daddy and I are trying very hard to understand your motivations, but you have to help us out here. Can you do that?"
Already tearing up, Rachel couldn't help the sobs that broke out now. Almost against her will, the words spilled out amidst choked tears,
"I love her." Her throat burned as she gasped for air. "I'm in love with her. I love her."
***
"Canada's half an hour away," Quinn remarked the next morning at breakfast. Her unfolded map took up half of the table.
"Yes," Rachel answered idly. She had yet to tell Quinn about the conversation she had with her dads last night. She had told her dads everything, but their sympathies only went as far as letting her take Quinn to Bakersfield. She had to stop roaming, stop making random detours. Vacation was over.
"We can be in Vancouver in an hour."
"We don't have our passports."
"Maybe we can charm the mounties into letting us in." Quinn grinned mischievously.
"My parents called last night," Rachel blurted out.
Quinn was quiet for a moment.
"They want you back?"
"Yes," Rachel replied faintly. "I think it's time."
"Okay," Quinn said. After another beat of silence, she added, "Canada would've been nice."
"I hear nice things about it."
"We could've stayed there."
"You and me?" Rachel's heart skipped a beat.
"Why not?" Quinn shrugged casually.
"Live in Vancouver?"
"Or Montreal. I've always wanted to learn French."
"Or camp out in the mountains."
"Is that just because you want to be able to wake up every morning and sing 'the hills are alive with the sound of music'?"
"Maybe," Rachel grinned slyly.
"Even your fantasies are nerdy," Quinn teased. "Okay, what else?"
"You can be a lumberjack."
"A lumberjack?"
"Well, we're in the mountains. It would only be fitting."
"Okay, I can be a lumberjack," Quinn agreed. "We can live in a cabin. And raise chickens."
"Are we supposed to eat the chickens?" Rachel looked dismayed.
"Not these ones. They're our friends."
"That'd be fine."
"And we'll go snowshoeing in the winter."
"Road trip to Alaska in the summer."
"And no one would know us," Quinn finished quietly.
They fell silent, smiling at each other. It was all very silly, but it made them feel better for a little while.
"We have to go." Rachel's voice was soft and wistful. Quinn nodded.
"Okay."
***
Salem, OR
Rachel had her fingers buried deep within Quinn's heat, slowly pumping in and out while she kissed Quinn, their tongues leisurely overlapping in delicate, sensuous strokes. She twisted her hand to brush her thumb against Quinn's clit, and elicited a soft, mewling cry from Quinn's throat. Her curiosity piqued, Rachel pulled away from Quinn's lips and kissed along the blonde's cheek and jawline until she reached the neck. She gently sucked at Quinn's throat and once again pressed her thumb against that little bundle of nerves. Quinn moaned again, and Rachel felt the vibrations against her lips.
"Rach," Quinn gasped, the sound reverberating within Rachel like a ringing bell. The word resonated from Quinn's throat against Rachel's mouth, its fading tone tickling her and leaving a sense of deep satisfaction in its wake.
"Rachel," Quinn said. It's all she ever said, but as the word rippled through Rachel's body, she heard want in its tone and need in its pitch. As she did, Rachel felt a heavy weight on her chest, crawling up to her throat. She tried to push it back down. She wouldn't - couldn't - let Quinn see her like that. In general, Rachel felt things intensely, so much so that it tended to scare other people, and she knew it. She couldn't let Quinn see how much all of this meant to her, for fear that Quinn would grow frightened and then cold.
Quinn's hand found its way down to Rachel's entrance, and she gingerly slipped her digits inside. Then the two of them were joined together in a rapturous push-and-pull, buried deep within each other. It was too much for Rachel, the sensation of being inside Quinn and Quinn inside her. Her heart swelled painfully with love and the heavy sensation in her breast bubbled violently in an uncontrollable wave of emotions. She bit down hard on her bottom lip to stop those three, little poisonous words from rushing out. But as her orgasm took her over and her body spasmed with pleasure, she couldn't help the tears that spilled out.
"I'm sorry," she said through stifled sobs. Sorry for the crying. Sorry for concocting a crazy trip for Quinn to make her feel better only to drag her back home again. Sorry for being hopelessly, stupidly in love with her. Sorry for not being able to say any of it out loud.
"It's okay. It's okay." Quinn hushed her as she wiped away the tears with her thumbs. She was just grateful for the darkness and Rachel's tears masking her own.
***
Willows, CA
"Sing me a song," Quinn said. She was lying in bed, curled up against Rachel, sated and happy after Rachel demonstrated for her how years of tongue-twisting diction training has helped her to develop a forceful tongue. It was, in Quinn's humble opinion, a lovely way to end a long day of driving.
"You don't think what we just did was a sufficient exercise for my mouth?"
Quinn laughed, and kissed Rachel's bare shoulder.
"I know you're not tired from that. Come on, sing me a song. I can't sleep." Bakersfield was less than a day's drive away. They could be there tomorrow. Of course she couldn't sleep.
"What do you want to hear?"
"I don't care. Sing me anything."
Rachel thought for a moment. She decided upon a song. Cradling Quinn in her arms, she began to sing softly.
"Show me, show me, how you do that trick. The one that makes me scream, she said. The one that makes me laugh, she said."
"Hey," Quinn protested. "That's Artie's song for Tina."
"Puck and I collaborated with Artie to come up with an arrangement for the song," Rachel explained. "We came up with different styles. They went with Puck's version even though mine was obviously superior."
"So you're only singing it now because you want someone to hear your version."
Which, of course, was entirely true. Rachel's massive ego couldn't bear the thought of her hard-labored arrangement never seeing the light of day. It was brilliant, damn it. People needed to hear it.
"Does it matter?" asked Rachel.
"I want a song that means something to you." To us, she really meant.
"You said you didn't care."
"I know what I said." Quinn sounded very irritated. "But don't sing it if you don't mean it."
Rachel was beginning to understand why Finn used to walk around with a perpetually petrified look on his face. One needed a secret decoder ring to figure out the difference between what Quinn said and what she really meant. Rachel should have known that when Quinn said sing me anything, she really meant sing me something special that lets me know how you feel about me so we don't have to have an actual conversation about it. But luckily for the both of them, Rachel wasn't Finn, and she knew how to appease Quinn. She pulled back just enough so she could look into Quinn's eyes.
"I mean it," Rachel said. "Just because Artie used it first doesn't mean that he's the only one who has those kinds of feelings." Quinn now looked a little embarrassed.
"Okay," she said, trying to be casual. "You can sing it." Rachel smiled, kissed Quinn's lips, then resumed singing.
"Why are you so far away, she said. Why won't you ever know that I'm in love with you."
Quinn closed her eyes and listened to the rest of the song in silence as she allowed herself to relax. The last thing she heard before she fell asleep was Rachel's voice in her ear, softly crooning,
"Alone above a raging sea that stole the only girl I loved, and drowned her deep inside of me."
***
Fresno, CA
They were less than two hours away from Bakersfield. But Quinn grew paler the closer they got, and so Rachel finally suggested that they spend the night in Fresno and started fresh tomorrow. After all, they'd had a long day.
"I spoke to the Baums," Rachel told her. Quinn had asked her to call. "They're expecting us tomorrow." When Quinn didn't respond, Rachel sighed and said, "If you-"
"I want to go," Quinn said curtly. "So stop asking." She was lying on the bed, staring up blankly at the ceiling above. Rachel sat down on the edge. By now she's figured out that whenever Quinn took to staring at empty spaces, it was a bad sign.
"Did I make everything worse?" Her voice was small and tight with worry. Quinn looked over with confusion, so Rachel proceeded to explain. "I was only trying to help, but now I think I've just made everything worse for you. They all said that this was a bad idea."
"Who's they?"
"Puck and Finn."
"Well, that's your problem right there. They're morons."
"So I didn't make everything worse for you?"
"No," Quinn said. Then she thought about it, and she momentarily struggled with whether to tell the whole truth. In the end, she thought that Rachel would appreciate the honesty. "But I don't know if you really made it better."
"Oh." Rachel did appreciate the honesty. It didn't mean that she liked it. Quinn read the expression on her face, and hated herself a little for being the cause of it.
"Come here," she instructed with no force. Rachel heeded her call; she crawled over, settled down and nestled against her. They lay together quietly. The silence of the room and the warmth of each other's bodies helped to calm their chaotic minds.
"He said I was like driftwood."
"What?"
"Finn. When I asked him to come on the trip. He said that I'm just a dead, rotten piece of wood for you to grab on to as you were drowning."
Quinn exhaled sharply. She made a note to give Finn a stern talking-to when she got the chance... but on the other hand, maybe he had a point.
"You're not driftwood," Quinn murmured. "You're more like a life ring."
"What's the difference?"
"Well..." Quinn stalled for an answer. "Orange is a prettier color."
Rachel thought that there wasn't much of a difference at all. She thought that both items served the same function. It was something to grab on to and it temporarily saved you from a watery grave. Everything's okay for a little while. But eventually you realize that you're still cold and drifting in the middle of the ocean with no land in sight and that there are probably sharks in the water waiting to eat you. Then everything's not okay after all. So that was her role. She was the driftwood life ring that only made everything okay for a little while. She could keep Quinn from drowning but she couldn't save Quinn. And Rachel was finally starting to see it.
"You know he didn't mean anything by it," Quinn now said. "He wasn't trying to be hurtful."
"I know that." Rachel gave Quinn an odd look as she wondered where the hell that came from.
"Because I know that his opinion matters to you."
"Of course it does. He's my friend." Rachel couldn't emphasize that word enough. Quinn responded with a thin smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"I think his opinion means more to you than Artie's or Kurt's," she said. "And that's okay. His opinion means a lot to me too, even if he won't talk to me anymore."
"Why do we always end up talking about him?" Rachel was always good humored when Quinn was temperamental or moody or just downright nasty. But now, her voice carried an undisguised undercurrent of irritation. "He's not here. It doesn't matter."
"I'm only saying," Quinn replied gently. "Finn's a great guy. He would never try to hurt either of us."
Rachel couldn't grasp what Quinn was trying to say.
Or maybe she just didn't want to.
***
Bakersfield, CA
Quinn raked her nails over the leather of the armrest, over and over again until she made marks in them. Puck was probably going to yell at her for that when he found out, but neither girl could be bothered to think of that now. Quinn had been like this all day: jittery, cagey, going off the walls. She was practically hyperventilating when they passed the sign that read "Bakersfield - 30 miles". Several times, Rachel wanted to ask her if she was sure that she wanted to go, but Quinn had already made it clear that she didn't want to be asked anymore. So Rachel just drove on.
Their phones buzzed at the same time just as they drove past the city limits. Quinn checked hers first.
"It's from Puck. He says he's at the airport." She checked Rachel's next. "He sent it to you too. Did you know about this?"
"No," Rachel answered, sounding just as shocked as Quinn. "But I suppose this explains why he called me last night wanting to know what time we'd get into Bakersfield today."
"You didn't tell me that he called."
"You were asleep. Besides, I thought he was just making conversation."
"About our schedule?"
"Yes, why not?"
"You thought that Puck was making small talk with you about our itinerary."
"Well, Noah and I are friends."
Quinn only shook her head. The task of lecturing Rachel on social norms would have to wait for another day.
"I wonder what he's doing here," Quinn mused.
"We'd better go pick him up and find out."
That turned out to be easier said than done, since neither of them knew where the airport was. They got there eventually, albeit after two hours, one screaming match, countless consultations of the map and three stops to ask for directions. But since it was a small airport, once they arrived they had no problems finding Puck, who was by now nodding off in the waiting area. Quinn woke him with by nudging his foot. When he opened his eyes and saw the girls, a lazy smile stretched across his face.
"Sup, ladies?"
"What are you doing here?" were the first words out of Quinn's mouth. There was no menace to her tone; she was simply too curious to hold back.
"Good to see you too, Quinn." Puck stood up and stretched. "Rachel." He gave Rachel a hug; he hesitated when he turned to Quinn. Quinn rolled her eyes with feigned exasperation, and hugged him.
"Okay. Now what are you doing here?"
"I came to see my kid. You didn't think I'd miss that, did you?"
"But what about your mom?" Quinn asked with worry. "What about the pool cleaning business? How did you pay for the plane ticket?"
Quinn was glad to see Puck. However, she had some valid concerns to address before she could allow herself to relax and celebrate his presence. She wasn't prone to paranoia, but she knew him well. She wouldn't put it past him to deal drugs, rob a bank or kidnap people and harvest their kidneys to sell on the black market in order to pay for a plane ticket to get here. It was sweet, in Puck's own way. Sweet and highly illegal.
Puck grinned. "I had some help."
He proceeded to detail the situation for them. Mike and Matt volunteered to take over the pool cleaning. Brittany and Santana were going to help his mom get around. Artie and Tina were going to keep an eye on his sister. As for the plane tickets, everyone chipped in a couple of bucks which of course wasn't nearly enough, but it had been a good starting point. Puck worked extra hours. Kurt sold one of his form-fitting knee-length sweaters. Mercedes baked cookies and sold them at her church.
"...But in the end, we were still a little short," Puck told them. Quinn felt her chest seize with anxiety. Here it comes. He was going to tell her that he'd been reduced to selling black tar heroin to elementary school children or something equally outlandish. "But there's this guy who spent all summer working as a lifeguard. He had a lot saved up because all his friends were on a trip that he was too much of a loser to go on. He lent me the rest, but there was just one catch."
"Which is?" Quinn asked.
"He wanted to come." Puck watched Quinn's face closely, vaguely concerned about how she would react.
"He's here?" Quinn's pitch raised two octaves. As if on cue, a familiar voice rang out,
"Hey, guys!" And there, in all his tall, doofy glory, was Finn Hudson, with an easy grin stretched from ear to ear.
***
On the way to the car, Finn and Quinn walked ahead while Rachel and Puck trailed behind.
"I wish you would have warned me," Rachel repeated.
"He didn't want me to."
"You should have warned me anyway."
Puck only shrugged. He would never admit it out loud, but now that Finn was speaking to him again, Puck wasn't about to do anything to lose his trust again. Besides, he really, really didn't want to get dragged into this bizarre love triangle.
Fifteen feet ahead of them, the former golden couple were struggling to find something to say to each other.
"So..." Finn started awkwardly. "You look nice."
Finn was even taller than Quinn remembered him. They hadn't seen each other in months, and Quinn wondered if it was possible that he was still growing. She was suddenly thankful that the baby wasn't Finn's. Just trying to imagine pushing a Finn-sized baby out of her vagina made her shiver in fear and pain.
"Thank you," she answered politely. "You too." Finn nodded.
"I got tan."
"I can see that."
"Because I spent a lot of time by the pool."
"So I heard."
"You look tan too."
"I spent a lot of time on the road."
"Yeah, that makes sense."
This wasn't one of their more exciting exchanges. They were both aware of how painfully, awkwardly polite they were with each other, delicately tiptoeing around the big issue at the tip of their tongues. Each waited for the other to go first. As usual, it was Finn who caved first.
"Look, I know that you've been having a hard time and all with giving up the baby for adoption and everything and I know that I haven't been around for any of it, but it was just... you know..." He shrugged heavily. "I'm sorry I didn't help."
"Finn, believe me, you don't have to apologize for that." In fact, it only made her feel guiltier. After all these months, she still had trouble looking him in the eyes.
"Because it's like..." Finn faltered slightly as his teenaged brain tried to verbalize these all-too-grown-up emotional complexities. "One day, you were the most important person in my life. And then suddenly you weren't. You can't just go from being everything to nothing. That's not right, is it?"
"It doesn't seem like it."
"I want us to be friends again," he said earnestly.
"You would have to forgive me." Quinn's voice was small and uncertain.
"I can do that." He paused, then amended his answer. "Well, I can work on it."
"That's a start," Quinn said with a soft smile. Finn grinned back. For a split second, it almost felt like old times again.
"Just friends though," Finn added quickly. "Quinn, I'm sorry, but I don't know if I can have us be us again. I just can't do it."
"That's, um, that's all right," she replied, trying not to sound too casual about it. "Really. I'm good with friends." Relief flooded Finn's features as a smile started to spread across his face.
"Good. Because I, um, I might... I might... be ready to start something new." He hurriedly continued with, "If that's okay with you." Quinn felt her heart seize with such a terrible pain that, for a moment, she thought that her heart must have stopped. But her luck wasn't that good. She was still breathing, her heart kept pumping, and she continued to feel the ugly, bitter writhing of jealousy in the pit of her stomach. She continued smiling as she made herself say,
"Finn, you don't have to ask for my permission. You're a great guy. You deserve to be with someone wonderful." At least that much wasn't a lie. "I'm happy for you." But that was.
***
"I didn't ask him here."
On the way to the Baums' house, Rachel convinced everyone that it would be impolite to show up empty-handed, so they stopped at a supermarket for flowers and pie. She persuaded Puck to take Finn next door to the toy store to look for a present for the baby so that she could have some time alone with Quinn.
"I don't care," Quinn said flatly. She seemed more interested in the flower petals than in what Rachel had to say.
"Quinn, please, you have to believe me," Rachel pleaded desperately in a low voice. "I swear, I haven't spoken to him since the night we first made love."
Quinn flinched. "Don't call it that."
"What should I call it then?"
"I don't care. Just don't call it that."
Rachel relented. It didn't seem like an important point right now. "Fine. I haven't spoken to him since the night we were together. I didn't ask him to come."
"I believe you," Quinn replied coolly. "But I don't care."
"Don't do this. Please don't shut me-"
"God damn it, Rachel! Not everything is about you!" Spinning around to face the shorter girl, Quinn's eyes blazed with intense resentment. That look alone was enough to make Rachel cower. "I'm about to see my daughter again. The child that I carried for nine months and then gave up. Can you understand that? Right now, I don't care about you or Finn or Puck any of these stupid petty melodramas, okay? I. Don't. Care."
Rachel shrunk back at the outburst, the fear and shame starkly evident in her eyes. She now saw how terribly selfish it was of her to make this situation about her, but Quinn's words stung nonetheless. Quinn, for her part, instantly regretted her harsh words, but she didn't know how to take them back.
"You're right. I'm sorry." Rachel turned to the display of flowers before them. She picked up a bouquet. "I think the lilies would be nice."
***
The four of them had been sitting in the parked car for twenty minutes.
"Are we going to do this or not? Puck finally asked.
Next to him in the front passenger seat, Quinn gazed gloomily at the idyllic suburban home before them. There was a light on inside and, against the dark backdrop of night, made the house look warm and inviting. She knew that they were all waiting for her, including the couple inside. They had looked out the window once or twice. If they had seen the car full of teenagers parked across the street and figured out that these were their guests, they were kind enough not to let it show. Quinn had only met them twice. Once before the baby was born, and once after. She wanted to keep the familiarity between them to a minimum. They seemed like nice people, but Quinn hadn't planned on seeing them again. She never expected to end up here, all the way across the country and at their front door.
"We're going to wait," Rachel said serenely to Puck. She was so eerily calm that he wisely decided not to push the issue.
"It's okay," Quinn said. "I'm ready." She gathered her courage with a sharp inhale of breath, then opened the car door, climbing out into the humid California night. Puck, Rachel and Finn followed her. But when they started for the house, Rachel stopped Finn by placing her hand on his arm.
"I think it should just be them tonight," she said, nodding at Quinn and Puck. "If that's what everyone wants." And by 'everyone', she really meant the girl she was staring at. Puck understood. He didn't bother replying because he knew that his opinion didn't count right now.
"It's okay with me," Finn said.
"Thank you, Rachel," said Quinn quietly.
"We'll pick you up when you're ready," Rachel told her. "Just give us a call." Quinn nodded. Finn and Rachel watched as Puck and Quinn walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. The door was opened almost instantly, and the embarrassed, frightened teenagers were ushered inside with excited chattering from their hosts. Finn looked over at Rachel.
"So, um, what do you want to do now?" His smile was shy and nervous. There was a time, not too long ago, when Rachel would have been taken in by that. She would have melted into a puddle at his feet, flung her arms around his neck and cried out, "Whatever you want to do with me!" But that was then.
"I have to ask you a question." Her no-nonsense and focused demeanor visibly unnerved Finn.
"Um, alright."
"Did you come here for me?" Her tone was accusing, which puzzled Finn a great deal. He knew something was wrong because she had been ignoring his calls and texts; he just didn't know what. He thought that things had been going well between them. Then one day, she simply stopped responding to him. He was in a panic and about to call the police when Puck told him that she and Quinn were both fine. To prove it, Finn watched as Puck texted them both an off-color joke. They both responded within five minutes with appropriate disgust. So that was how Finn found out that Rachel was ignoring him. It hurt more than he thought it would have.
"I came here for Quinn," he replied honestly. "I saw how everyone was pitching in to help and there I was, sitting on my ass all summer. I wanted to be here for her. Besides... I spent a long time thinking that Drizzle was mine. I kinda want to see how she turned out." He added an awkward shrug. "But... yeah, it crossed my mind that you'd be here and I can ask you why you haven't been responding to any of my calls or texts. What the hell, Rachel? I thought you were dead!"
For the second time in one night, Rachel felt the overwhelming burden of guilt.
"Finn," she said, as gently as possible. "We need to talk."
Next Part
Fandom: Glee
Pairings: Rachel/Quinn; Rachel/Finn
Rating: Still NC-17.
Spoilers: Up through "Sectionals"
Word Count: 7,155
Description: Rachel's answer to Quinn's melancholia is to take her on a summer road trip with the gleeks.
Note: The characters are fake, but the places are real. All the attractions mentioned in this story are actual places, if you ever find yourself on a cross-country road trip.
Previous Parts:
[ Part 1] [ Part 2] [ Part 3] [ Part 4] [ Part 5]
Song Referenced in This Part:
The Watson Twins - "Just Like Heaven" ("Rachel's version")
After all this time on the road, nothing seemed real anymore.
The scenery outside the car transitioned from green forest to yellow desert to gray steel metropolis, but they eventually all started to look the same. The towns and cities became indistinguishable. The days bled together. They no longer traveled under the pretense of sightseeing; they were driving for the sake of driving. It didn't matter where they were or when they were there. The two of them drifted in a vacuum where time, places and faces meant nothing.
Sometimes it felt a lot like going mad.
At night, they regained their sanity by tearing at one another's clothes, trailing their mouths along hot skin, digging their finger into soft flesh, burying and losing themselves in each other. With oblivion all around them, they clung on to each other for hours for comfort and safety. Nothing seemed real anymore, but that was a good thing, because Quinn probably couldn't do this if it did. On the road, she was no longer Quinn Fabray, ex-Cheerio and daughter of dutiful Christians from a small podunk town in Ohio who got knocked up at sixteen by her boyfriend's best friend. On the road, she was just a nameless girl with someone she trusted by her side.
It was crazy like this, and it was easy. It was disorientating like this, and it was good.
Sometimes it felt a little like drowning.
But Quinn liked it that way.
***
Twin Falls, ID
She saw a voicemail message on her phone.
"Quinn." Her mother's voice on the line. It's been exactly 28 days since they left Lima. This is the first time she has called. "Your father wants to know-"
Quinn pressed a button, and her mother's voice is replaced by an automated and more human voice:
"Message deleted."
***
Weatherby, OR
A bright red plastic ball bounced off of the back of Rachel's head.
When she turned around, she found a pug-nosed boy, maybe seven or eight years old, standing in the middle of the ball pit in the play area of the McDonald's where she and Quinn were eating lunch. Rachel smiled graciously and decided to let it go. She turned her attention back to Quinn. Everything was okay until she felt herself being pelted with another plastic ball. She ignored that too. And the next one. And the one after that. Quinn was starting to giggle.
"Thanks a lot," Rachel said to her dryly.
"I think he just has a little crush," Quin replied lightly as another plastic ball bounced off of Rachel's shoulder. "He's only aiming for you."
Rachel craned her neck around to look for the hellion's parents. She spotted them in a corner, preoccupied with trying to fend off five even unrulier brats. Rachel looked for the manager next, but there was only a stoned-looking teenager behind the counter playing with his phone. He was the one who took their order. They repeated it three times and he still got it wrong. Rachel decided that he was going to be no help at all.
"Very well," she said evenly as yet another ball struck her. "I'll just have to take matters into my own hands." Quinn was nearly doubled over with laughter by this point until she heard what Rachel said. She straightened up quickly.
"No, wait. What? Rach, what are you going to do?"
But Rachel was already halfway there. The boy was clutching another ball in his hands. When she approached, he squealed, flung the ball at her, and retreated further into the ball pit. Quinn gaped as Rachel took off her shoes and climbed right into the pit. The boy threw another ball. This one Rachel caught.
"I know that your mental faculties are still at the prepubescent stage, but I'd like for you to try and follow along. People don't like it when you throw things at them, regardless of what your intentions are. Now, I see your parents over there with a number of children, whom I presume to be your siblings. That must be difficult for you. Perhaps you feel that you're constantly in competition with your siblings for your parents' affection and that's why you resort to such attention-seeking behavior. However, I'm afraid that this type of behavior will not earn you very many friends." She held the ball out to him. "Next time, perhaps you should try a simple hello."
The boy stared at her. Then he made a face.
"You're weird." He stuck his tongue at her and ran (well, waded) out of the ball pit to rejoin his family. Quinn stood by the entrance of the ball pit, having positioned herself there in case she needed to break up any acts of violence. Not from Rachel - who was really a pacifist - but from the boy. Kids could be little monsters and Rachel was, well, Rachel. Even perfectly rational adults got the urge to smack her from time to time. But don't get Quinn wrong. Regardless of whether Rachel deserved it, if that boy had laid a finger on her, Quinn would have no qualms giving a seven-or-eight year old child a thrashing. Or at least a good spanking.
"You really needed to do that?"
"Of course. He needed to understand that his behavior is not acceptable."
"His behavior?" Quinn gestured at her. "You're standing in the middle of a McDonald's play pen."
"So?"
"So it's meant for children."
"So?"
"You're not a child."
"So?"
"You're annoying."
In response, Rachel threw the ball that she still held in her hands. It bounced off Quinn's forehead, leaving Quinn looking surprised and indignant.
"Hey!" Okay, so that wasn't the best comeback she's ever had.
"What are you going to do about it?" Rachel was smirking. Smirking. The gauntlet had been thrown. Quinn slipped off her shoes and climbed in. She was barely in when Rachel threw another ball.
"Stop that!" Quinn commanded; it only elicited a giggle from Rachel, who then proceeded to toss two more balls her way. Quinn tried to retaliate, but her aim was horrid. She missed all three shots she took while plastic balls were bouncing off her body. She finally managed to chase Rachel down, grabbing on to her wrists so that the she couldn't pelt her with anymore with her freakishly good aim.
"You're going to get us kicked out!" Quinn's admonishment would carry a lot more weight if she wasn't breathless from laughing.
"So what? Nobody here knows us," Rachel said. "And nobody cares." That was true. The only other costumers were busy trying to restrain their hoard of children; the only employee who seemed to be there hadn't looked up from his phone once. Rachel's words were an epiphany to Quinn.
"Nobody here knows us." Awe was evident in Quinn's tone. She wrapped her arms around Rachel's waist, pulling the shorter girl close to her.
"Quinn?" Rachel asked nervously. "What are you doing?" It wasn't that she didn't like Quinn touching her - she very much did - but Quinn never touched her in public like this. No matter what they did the night before, in the morning they were always just friends again. Outside of their hotel room, Quinn never wanted to hold hands or kiss or touch in any way beyond the occasional friendly hug.
"Nobody here knows us," Quinn repeated, before she pressed her lips to Rachel's.
***
Kennewick, WA
She received a text from Finn that read, hey what u up 2?? It annoyed her that he couldn't type out full words.
She hadn't been taking any of his calls. It would have felt really wrong to carry on with him the way she did before. Although Rachel never talked about it with Quinn, she was relatively certain that the blonde didn't like the things that Rachel was doing with him. It was Rachel's natural instinct to call Finn and explain the situation to him in great detail, except that she was also relatively certain that Quinn didn't want their situation explained. So in the end, the only thing she could do was to ignore him. She felt guilty for doing it. But then she thought of Quinn. She chose her side.
She read the text again. Then, without replying, she hit delete.
It really annoyed her that he couldn't type out full words.
***
Seattle, WA
They had gotten into Seattle late last night, and they had a plan to spend the morning touring the city before they went off to their next destination.
This morning, Rachel stepped out from the shower, dressed herself in nothing but her underwear and a shirt, and went to wake Quinn so that they could start their day. But Quinn was already awake when she stepped out into the room, sitting upright in bed, her hair mussed and sticking out every which way. Rachel found it really damn sexy.
"Good morning," Rachel greeted happily. Quinn didn't return the greeting. She just sat there, gazing at Rachel with an intensity that Rachel had never seen before. The unfamiliarity made Rachel a little concerned. "Quinn? Are you okay?"
Quinn held her hand out. She crooked her index finger, beckoning Rachel forth. The brunette fidgeted uneasily, unsure of what was happening. Being with Quinn was not unlike being with a bipolar tiger on cocaine. You just never knew what she was going to do next. But sometimes that was part of the thrill. Rachel approached cautiously.
"Quinn?" she asked apprehensively. "Are you feeling-"
As soon as she was within reaching distance, Quinn reached out with both hands, seizing Rachel by the hips. She tugged hard, dragging Rachel down to the bed. Rachel squealed as she felt her back hit the mattress. She moaned as she felt Quinn pulling her underwear off. She gasped as she felt Quinn's tongue suddenly and insistently pushing its way inside her. She felt herself clench, and knew that she was already wet. It was almost embarrassing how eagerly and instantaneously aroused she was, but Rachel didn't give a damn about any of that now that Quinn was lapping against her clit.
She writhed and squirmed with intense pleasure, trying to restrain herself so that she didn't thrust her hips in Quinn's face. It felt good, excruciatingly good. Rachel had no idea that anything in the world could feel like this. It didn't seem like it could get any better than this. Until Quinn managed to get her lips around the clit and sucked. Rachel emitted a throaty moan so loud that it must have woken up the people next door. She flung out one arm above her head, groping blindly under she found a pillow, and dragged it over, covering her face with it. She couldn't rely on sheer self-control to stop herself from making another noise like that.
She pressed the pillow against her face to muffle her screams while Quinn experimentally burrowed her tongue in, deep as she can, before pulling out and turning her attention back to Rachel's clit. It was as if Quinn couldn't make up her mind on what she wanted to do. She alternated between both while she decided. She took her sweet time in doing so, all the while Rachel was grunting and wailing desperately for release. Rachel no longer cared about taking care not to thrust her hips in Quinn's face; she was bucking every which way, just dying for the climax.
Quinn was, of course, perfectly aware of this. It made her feel powerful. More powerful than when she commanded a squad of Cheerios, more powerful when she snapped at the social losers in the McKinley corridors, more powerful than when she had Finn or Puck wrapped around her little finger. She took her time because she wanted this moment to last forever. She relished the feel of Rachel's folds against her tongue, the musk of Rachel's scent, the taste of her. Quinn finally decided on a course of action: she pushed her tongue up against the sensitive nub while her fingers prowled, two of them easing their way into Rachel's depth. As soon as her fingers slipped in, Rachel came, her cries only subdued by the fact that she was biting hard down on the pillow. Quinn continued the torturing strokes, each lap matching the shuddering waves passing through Rachel.
When Quinn finally stopped, she trailed kisses up along Rachel's body, against the swell of her hips, against her heaving breasts underneath the t-shirt she still wore, until she reached the collarbone. She pulled the pillow away, and kissed Rachel's neck gently before settling in, resting her head against Rachel's shoulders. She waited for Rachel to regain her senses. At last, Rachel calmed her gasping breaths, and asked,
"Did you just kiss my neck?"
Quinn chuckled, the hot air from her breath tickling Rachel's skin.
"I think I just did a lot more than that."
"Uh-huh," Rachel said numbly. "And where did that come from?"
"I don't know. I woke up with the strangest urge to do it." Quinn's hand caressed the length of Rachel's body soothingly. "Are you okay with it?"
"Oh, now you ask me."
"I guess I should have checked with you first."
"That's all right." Rachel placed a kiss against the blonde's forehead. "I wasn't exactly complaining."
"Yeah, I got that much."
"So..." Rachel started slowly. "When do I get to try it?"
Later, they both agreed that they wanted to spend an extra night in Seattle.
Interestingly enough, they never got around to seeing any part of Seattle besides the four walls of the hotel room.
***
Bellingham, WA
While Quinn was in the shower, Rachel spoke to both of her fathers on the phone. They were very upset, but she already knew that they would be. Tina had called her earlier that day. She was at the supermarket with her mom when they ran into Mr. Schue, and Mrs. Cohen-Chang discovered that Mr. Schue was in fact not Southern. The scheme unraveled. Mrs. Cohen-Chang subsequently called the Berrys because everyone knew that the trip was Rachel's idea.
"We raised you better than this," Rachel's Daddy admonished. Hearing the disappointment in her fathers' voices hurt worse than anything else she's ever experienced.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she repeated again and again. "I'm so sorry, but I had to-"
"No more excuses," her Dad said sternly. "You're coming home. Right now."
"Dad, I can't do that. I promise, just little bit more time."
"Young lady, you have lost your mind. School is starting soon! I will get on a plane and drag you back home if I have to."
Rachel pleaded and begged. In the end, she simply outright refused.
"Rachel." Her Dad sounded so calm that it was scary. "If you don't come back right now, we will cancel your credit card. And then when you get home, we will forbid you from seeing Quinn ever again because this girl is obviously a terrible influence on you."
Rachel was silent. She could hear the shower being turned off, and knew that she couldn't carry on this conversation for much longer. She took a deep breath, and said,
"Do what you have to do."
And for the first time in her life, Rachel hung up on her fathers.
They called back later that night. Quinn had already fallen asleep, and Rachel stepped into the hallway to take the call.
"Your Dad has something to say to you," her Daddy said frostily, although Rachel knew that this time it wasn't her that he was angry with.
"Bubbala, I'm sorry," her Dad said gently. "I was wrong to speak to you like that. A family doesn't use threats. A family communicates with one another. Your Daddy and I are trying very hard to understand your motivations, but you have to help us out here. Can you do that?"
Already tearing up, Rachel couldn't help the sobs that broke out now. Almost against her will, the words spilled out amidst choked tears,
"I love her." Her throat burned as she gasped for air. "I'm in love with her. I love her."
***
"Canada's half an hour away," Quinn remarked the next morning at breakfast. Her unfolded map took up half of the table.
"Yes," Rachel answered idly. She had yet to tell Quinn about the conversation she had with her dads last night. She had told her dads everything, but their sympathies only went as far as letting her take Quinn to Bakersfield. She had to stop roaming, stop making random detours. Vacation was over.
"We can be in Vancouver in an hour."
"We don't have our passports."
"Maybe we can charm the mounties into letting us in." Quinn grinned mischievously.
"My parents called last night," Rachel blurted out.
Quinn was quiet for a moment.
"They want you back?"
"Yes," Rachel replied faintly. "I think it's time."
"Okay," Quinn said. After another beat of silence, she added, "Canada would've been nice."
"I hear nice things about it."
"We could've stayed there."
"You and me?" Rachel's heart skipped a beat.
"Why not?" Quinn shrugged casually.
"Live in Vancouver?"
"Or Montreal. I've always wanted to learn French."
"Or camp out in the mountains."
"Is that just because you want to be able to wake up every morning and sing 'the hills are alive with the sound of music'?"
"Maybe," Rachel grinned slyly.
"Even your fantasies are nerdy," Quinn teased. "Okay, what else?"
"You can be a lumberjack."
"A lumberjack?"
"Well, we're in the mountains. It would only be fitting."
"Okay, I can be a lumberjack," Quinn agreed. "We can live in a cabin. And raise chickens."
"Are we supposed to eat the chickens?" Rachel looked dismayed.
"Not these ones. They're our friends."
"That'd be fine."
"And we'll go snowshoeing in the winter."
"Road trip to Alaska in the summer."
"And no one would know us," Quinn finished quietly.
They fell silent, smiling at each other. It was all very silly, but it made them feel better for a little while.
"We have to go." Rachel's voice was soft and wistful. Quinn nodded.
"Okay."
***
Salem, OR
Rachel had her fingers buried deep within Quinn's heat, slowly pumping in and out while she kissed Quinn, their tongues leisurely overlapping in delicate, sensuous strokes. She twisted her hand to brush her thumb against Quinn's clit, and elicited a soft, mewling cry from Quinn's throat. Her curiosity piqued, Rachel pulled away from Quinn's lips and kissed along the blonde's cheek and jawline until she reached the neck. She gently sucked at Quinn's throat and once again pressed her thumb against that little bundle of nerves. Quinn moaned again, and Rachel felt the vibrations against her lips.
"Rach," Quinn gasped, the sound reverberating within Rachel like a ringing bell. The word resonated from Quinn's throat against Rachel's mouth, its fading tone tickling her and leaving a sense of deep satisfaction in its wake.
"Rachel," Quinn said. It's all she ever said, but as the word rippled through Rachel's body, she heard want in its tone and need in its pitch. As she did, Rachel felt a heavy weight on her chest, crawling up to her throat. She tried to push it back down. She wouldn't - couldn't - let Quinn see her like that. In general, Rachel felt things intensely, so much so that it tended to scare other people, and she knew it. She couldn't let Quinn see how much all of this meant to her, for fear that Quinn would grow frightened and then cold.
Quinn's hand found its way down to Rachel's entrance, and she gingerly slipped her digits inside. Then the two of them were joined together in a rapturous push-and-pull, buried deep within each other. It was too much for Rachel, the sensation of being inside Quinn and Quinn inside her. Her heart swelled painfully with love and the heavy sensation in her breast bubbled violently in an uncontrollable wave of emotions. She bit down hard on her bottom lip to stop those three, little poisonous words from rushing out. But as her orgasm took her over and her body spasmed with pleasure, she couldn't help the tears that spilled out.
"I'm sorry," she said through stifled sobs. Sorry for the crying. Sorry for concocting a crazy trip for Quinn to make her feel better only to drag her back home again. Sorry for being hopelessly, stupidly in love with her. Sorry for not being able to say any of it out loud.
"It's okay. It's okay." Quinn hushed her as she wiped away the tears with her thumbs. She was just grateful for the darkness and Rachel's tears masking her own.
***
Willows, CA
"Sing me a song," Quinn said. She was lying in bed, curled up against Rachel, sated and happy after Rachel demonstrated for her how years of tongue-twisting diction training has helped her to develop a forceful tongue. It was, in Quinn's humble opinion, a lovely way to end a long day of driving.
"You don't think what we just did was a sufficient exercise for my mouth?"
Quinn laughed, and kissed Rachel's bare shoulder.
"I know you're not tired from that. Come on, sing me a song. I can't sleep." Bakersfield was less than a day's drive away. They could be there tomorrow. Of course she couldn't sleep.
"What do you want to hear?"
"I don't care. Sing me anything."
Rachel thought for a moment. She decided upon a song. Cradling Quinn in her arms, she began to sing softly.
"Show me, show me, how you do that trick. The one that makes me scream, she said. The one that makes me laugh, she said."
"Hey," Quinn protested. "That's Artie's song for Tina."
"Puck and I collaborated with Artie to come up with an arrangement for the song," Rachel explained. "We came up with different styles. They went with Puck's version even though mine was obviously superior."
"So you're only singing it now because you want someone to hear your version."
Which, of course, was entirely true. Rachel's massive ego couldn't bear the thought of her hard-labored arrangement never seeing the light of day. It was brilliant, damn it. People needed to hear it.
"Does it matter?" asked Rachel.
"I want a song that means something to you." To us, she really meant.
"You said you didn't care."
"I know what I said." Quinn sounded very irritated. "But don't sing it if you don't mean it."
Rachel was beginning to understand why Finn used to walk around with a perpetually petrified look on his face. One needed a secret decoder ring to figure out the difference between what Quinn said and what she really meant. Rachel should have known that when Quinn said sing me anything, she really meant sing me something special that lets me know how you feel about me so we don't have to have an actual conversation about it. But luckily for the both of them, Rachel wasn't Finn, and she knew how to appease Quinn. She pulled back just enough so she could look into Quinn's eyes.
"I mean it," Rachel said. "Just because Artie used it first doesn't mean that he's the only one who has those kinds of feelings." Quinn now looked a little embarrassed.
"Okay," she said, trying to be casual. "You can sing it." Rachel smiled, kissed Quinn's lips, then resumed singing.
"Why are you so far away, she said. Why won't you ever know that I'm in love with you."
Quinn closed her eyes and listened to the rest of the song in silence as she allowed herself to relax. The last thing she heard before she fell asleep was Rachel's voice in her ear, softly crooning,
"Alone above a raging sea that stole the only girl I loved, and drowned her deep inside of me."
***
Fresno, CA
They were less than two hours away from Bakersfield. But Quinn grew paler the closer they got, and so Rachel finally suggested that they spend the night in Fresno and started fresh tomorrow. After all, they'd had a long day.
"I spoke to the Baums," Rachel told her. Quinn had asked her to call. "They're expecting us tomorrow." When Quinn didn't respond, Rachel sighed and said, "If you-"
"I want to go," Quinn said curtly. "So stop asking." She was lying on the bed, staring up blankly at the ceiling above. Rachel sat down on the edge. By now she's figured out that whenever Quinn took to staring at empty spaces, it was a bad sign.
"Did I make everything worse?" Her voice was small and tight with worry. Quinn looked over with confusion, so Rachel proceeded to explain. "I was only trying to help, but now I think I've just made everything worse for you. They all said that this was a bad idea."
"Who's they?"
"Puck and Finn."
"Well, that's your problem right there. They're morons."
"So I didn't make everything worse for you?"
"No," Quinn said. Then she thought about it, and she momentarily struggled with whether to tell the whole truth. In the end, she thought that Rachel would appreciate the honesty. "But I don't know if you really made it better."
"Oh." Rachel did appreciate the honesty. It didn't mean that she liked it. Quinn read the expression on her face, and hated herself a little for being the cause of it.
"Come here," she instructed with no force. Rachel heeded her call; she crawled over, settled down and nestled against her. They lay together quietly. The silence of the room and the warmth of each other's bodies helped to calm their chaotic minds.
"He said I was like driftwood."
"What?"
"Finn. When I asked him to come on the trip. He said that I'm just a dead, rotten piece of wood for you to grab on to as you were drowning."
Quinn exhaled sharply. She made a note to give Finn a stern talking-to when she got the chance... but on the other hand, maybe he had a point.
"You're not driftwood," Quinn murmured. "You're more like a life ring."
"What's the difference?"
"Well..." Quinn stalled for an answer. "Orange is a prettier color."
Rachel thought that there wasn't much of a difference at all. She thought that both items served the same function. It was something to grab on to and it temporarily saved you from a watery grave. Everything's okay for a little while. But eventually you realize that you're still cold and drifting in the middle of the ocean with no land in sight and that there are probably sharks in the water waiting to eat you. Then everything's not okay after all. So that was her role. She was the driftwood life ring that only made everything okay for a little while. She could keep Quinn from drowning but she couldn't save Quinn. And Rachel was finally starting to see it.
"You know he didn't mean anything by it," Quinn now said. "He wasn't trying to be hurtful."
"I know that." Rachel gave Quinn an odd look as she wondered where the hell that came from.
"Because I know that his opinion matters to you."
"Of course it does. He's my friend." Rachel couldn't emphasize that word enough. Quinn responded with a thin smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"I think his opinion means more to you than Artie's or Kurt's," she said. "And that's okay. His opinion means a lot to me too, even if he won't talk to me anymore."
"Why do we always end up talking about him?" Rachel was always good humored when Quinn was temperamental or moody or just downright nasty. But now, her voice carried an undisguised undercurrent of irritation. "He's not here. It doesn't matter."
"I'm only saying," Quinn replied gently. "Finn's a great guy. He would never try to hurt either of us."
Rachel couldn't grasp what Quinn was trying to say.
Or maybe she just didn't want to.
***
Bakersfield, CA
Quinn raked her nails over the leather of the armrest, over and over again until she made marks in them. Puck was probably going to yell at her for that when he found out, but neither girl could be bothered to think of that now. Quinn had been like this all day: jittery, cagey, going off the walls. She was practically hyperventilating when they passed the sign that read "Bakersfield - 30 miles". Several times, Rachel wanted to ask her if she was sure that she wanted to go, but Quinn had already made it clear that she didn't want to be asked anymore. So Rachel just drove on.
Their phones buzzed at the same time just as they drove past the city limits. Quinn checked hers first.
"It's from Puck. He says he's at the airport." She checked Rachel's next. "He sent it to you too. Did you know about this?"
"No," Rachel answered, sounding just as shocked as Quinn. "But I suppose this explains why he called me last night wanting to know what time we'd get into Bakersfield today."
"You didn't tell me that he called."
"You were asleep. Besides, I thought he was just making conversation."
"About our schedule?"
"Yes, why not?"
"You thought that Puck was making small talk with you about our itinerary."
"Well, Noah and I are friends."
Quinn only shook her head. The task of lecturing Rachel on social norms would have to wait for another day.
"I wonder what he's doing here," Quinn mused.
"We'd better go pick him up and find out."
That turned out to be easier said than done, since neither of them knew where the airport was. They got there eventually, albeit after two hours, one screaming match, countless consultations of the map and three stops to ask for directions. But since it was a small airport, once they arrived they had no problems finding Puck, who was by now nodding off in the waiting area. Quinn woke him with by nudging his foot. When he opened his eyes and saw the girls, a lazy smile stretched across his face.
"Sup, ladies?"
"What are you doing here?" were the first words out of Quinn's mouth. There was no menace to her tone; she was simply too curious to hold back.
"Good to see you too, Quinn." Puck stood up and stretched. "Rachel." He gave Rachel a hug; he hesitated when he turned to Quinn. Quinn rolled her eyes with feigned exasperation, and hugged him.
"Okay. Now what are you doing here?"
"I came to see my kid. You didn't think I'd miss that, did you?"
"But what about your mom?" Quinn asked with worry. "What about the pool cleaning business? How did you pay for the plane ticket?"
Quinn was glad to see Puck. However, she had some valid concerns to address before she could allow herself to relax and celebrate his presence. She wasn't prone to paranoia, but she knew him well. She wouldn't put it past him to deal drugs, rob a bank or kidnap people and harvest their kidneys to sell on the black market in order to pay for a plane ticket to get here. It was sweet, in Puck's own way. Sweet and highly illegal.
Puck grinned. "I had some help."
He proceeded to detail the situation for them. Mike and Matt volunteered to take over the pool cleaning. Brittany and Santana were going to help his mom get around. Artie and Tina were going to keep an eye on his sister. As for the plane tickets, everyone chipped in a couple of bucks which of course wasn't nearly enough, but it had been a good starting point. Puck worked extra hours. Kurt sold one of his form-fitting knee-length sweaters. Mercedes baked cookies and sold them at her church.
"...But in the end, we were still a little short," Puck told them. Quinn felt her chest seize with anxiety. Here it comes. He was going to tell her that he'd been reduced to selling black tar heroin to elementary school children or something equally outlandish. "But there's this guy who spent all summer working as a lifeguard. He had a lot saved up because all his friends were on a trip that he was too much of a loser to go on. He lent me the rest, but there was just one catch."
"Which is?" Quinn asked.
"He wanted to come." Puck watched Quinn's face closely, vaguely concerned about how she would react.
"He's here?" Quinn's pitch raised two octaves. As if on cue, a familiar voice rang out,
"Hey, guys!" And there, in all his tall, doofy glory, was Finn Hudson, with an easy grin stretched from ear to ear.
***
On the way to the car, Finn and Quinn walked ahead while Rachel and Puck trailed behind.
"I wish you would have warned me," Rachel repeated.
"He didn't want me to."
"You should have warned me anyway."
Puck only shrugged. He would never admit it out loud, but now that Finn was speaking to him again, Puck wasn't about to do anything to lose his trust again. Besides, he really, really didn't want to get dragged into this bizarre love triangle.
Fifteen feet ahead of them, the former golden couple were struggling to find something to say to each other.
"So..." Finn started awkwardly. "You look nice."
Finn was even taller than Quinn remembered him. They hadn't seen each other in months, and Quinn wondered if it was possible that he was still growing. She was suddenly thankful that the baby wasn't Finn's. Just trying to imagine pushing a Finn-sized baby out of her vagina made her shiver in fear and pain.
"Thank you," she answered politely. "You too." Finn nodded.
"I got tan."
"I can see that."
"Because I spent a lot of time by the pool."
"So I heard."
"You look tan too."
"I spent a lot of time on the road."
"Yeah, that makes sense."
This wasn't one of their more exciting exchanges. They were both aware of how painfully, awkwardly polite they were with each other, delicately tiptoeing around the big issue at the tip of their tongues. Each waited for the other to go first. As usual, it was Finn who caved first.
"Look, I know that you've been having a hard time and all with giving up the baby for adoption and everything and I know that I haven't been around for any of it, but it was just... you know..." He shrugged heavily. "I'm sorry I didn't help."
"Finn, believe me, you don't have to apologize for that." In fact, it only made her feel guiltier. After all these months, she still had trouble looking him in the eyes.
"Because it's like..." Finn faltered slightly as his teenaged brain tried to verbalize these all-too-grown-up emotional complexities. "One day, you were the most important person in my life. And then suddenly you weren't. You can't just go from being everything to nothing. That's not right, is it?"
"It doesn't seem like it."
"I want us to be friends again," he said earnestly.
"You would have to forgive me." Quinn's voice was small and uncertain.
"I can do that." He paused, then amended his answer. "Well, I can work on it."
"That's a start," Quinn said with a soft smile. Finn grinned back. For a split second, it almost felt like old times again.
"Just friends though," Finn added quickly. "Quinn, I'm sorry, but I don't know if I can have us be us again. I just can't do it."
"That's, um, that's all right," she replied, trying not to sound too casual about it. "Really. I'm good with friends." Relief flooded Finn's features as a smile started to spread across his face.
"Good. Because I, um, I might... I might... be ready to start something new." He hurriedly continued with, "If that's okay with you." Quinn felt her heart seize with such a terrible pain that, for a moment, she thought that her heart must have stopped. But her luck wasn't that good. She was still breathing, her heart kept pumping, and she continued to feel the ugly, bitter writhing of jealousy in the pit of her stomach. She continued smiling as she made herself say,
"Finn, you don't have to ask for my permission. You're a great guy. You deserve to be with someone wonderful." At least that much wasn't a lie. "I'm happy for you." But that was.
***
"I didn't ask him here."
On the way to the Baums' house, Rachel convinced everyone that it would be impolite to show up empty-handed, so they stopped at a supermarket for flowers and pie. She persuaded Puck to take Finn next door to the toy store to look for a present for the baby so that she could have some time alone with Quinn.
"I don't care," Quinn said flatly. She seemed more interested in the flower petals than in what Rachel had to say.
"Quinn, please, you have to believe me," Rachel pleaded desperately in a low voice. "I swear, I haven't spoken to him since the night we first made love."
Quinn flinched. "Don't call it that."
"What should I call it then?"
"I don't care. Just don't call it that."
Rachel relented. It didn't seem like an important point right now. "Fine. I haven't spoken to him since the night we were together. I didn't ask him to come."
"I believe you," Quinn replied coolly. "But I don't care."
"Don't do this. Please don't shut me-"
"God damn it, Rachel! Not everything is about you!" Spinning around to face the shorter girl, Quinn's eyes blazed with intense resentment. That look alone was enough to make Rachel cower. "I'm about to see my daughter again. The child that I carried for nine months and then gave up. Can you understand that? Right now, I don't care about you or Finn or Puck any of these stupid petty melodramas, okay? I. Don't. Care."
Rachel shrunk back at the outburst, the fear and shame starkly evident in her eyes. She now saw how terribly selfish it was of her to make this situation about her, but Quinn's words stung nonetheless. Quinn, for her part, instantly regretted her harsh words, but she didn't know how to take them back.
"You're right. I'm sorry." Rachel turned to the display of flowers before them. She picked up a bouquet. "I think the lilies would be nice."
***
The four of them had been sitting in the parked car for twenty minutes.
"Are we going to do this or not? Puck finally asked.
Next to him in the front passenger seat, Quinn gazed gloomily at the idyllic suburban home before them. There was a light on inside and, against the dark backdrop of night, made the house look warm and inviting. She knew that they were all waiting for her, including the couple inside. They had looked out the window once or twice. If they had seen the car full of teenagers parked across the street and figured out that these were their guests, they were kind enough not to let it show. Quinn had only met them twice. Once before the baby was born, and once after. She wanted to keep the familiarity between them to a minimum. They seemed like nice people, but Quinn hadn't planned on seeing them again. She never expected to end up here, all the way across the country and at their front door.
"We're going to wait," Rachel said serenely to Puck. She was so eerily calm that he wisely decided not to push the issue.
"It's okay," Quinn said. "I'm ready." She gathered her courage with a sharp inhale of breath, then opened the car door, climbing out into the humid California night. Puck, Rachel and Finn followed her. But when they started for the house, Rachel stopped Finn by placing her hand on his arm.
"I think it should just be them tonight," she said, nodding at Quinn and Puck. "If that's what everyone wants." And by 'everyone', she really meant the girl she was staring at. Puck understood. He didn't bother replying because he knew that his opinion didn't count right now.
"It's okay with me," Finn said.
"Thank you, Rachel," said Quinn quietly.
"We'll pick you up when you're ready," Rachel told her. "Just give us a call." Quinn nodded. Finn and Rachel watched as Puck and Quinn walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. The door was opened almost instantly, and the embarrassed, frightened teenagers were ushered inside with excited chattering from their hosts. Finn looked over at Rachel.
"So, um, what do you want to do now?" His smile was shy and nervous. There was a time, not too long ago, when Rachel would have been taken in by that. She would have melted into a puddle at his feet, flung her arms around his neck and cried out, "Whatever you want to do with me!" But that was then.
"I have to ask you a question." Her no-nonsense and focused demeanor visibly unnerved Finn.
"Um, alright."
"Did you come here for me?" Her tone was accusing, which puzzled Finn a great deal. He knew something was wrong because she had been ignoring his calls and texts; he just didn't know what. He thought that things had been going well between them. Then one day, she simply stopped responding to him. He was in a panic and about to call the police when Puck told him that she and Quinn were both fine. To prove it, Finn watched as Puck texted them both an off-color joke. They both responded within five minutes with appropriate disgust. So that was how Finn found out that Rachel was ignoring him. It hurt more than he thought it would have.
"I came here for Quinn," he replied honestly. "I saw how everyone was pitching in to help and there I was, sitting on my ass all summer. I wanted to be here for her. Besides... I spent a long time thinking that Drizzle was mine. I kinda want to see how she turned out." He added an awkward shrug. "But... yeah, it crossed my mind that you'd be here and I can ask you why you haven't been responding to any of my calls or texts. What the hell, Rachel? I thought you were dead!"
For the second time in one night, Rachel felt the overwhelming burden of guilt.
"Finn," she said, as gently as possible. "We need to talk."
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