Fic: Let's Take the Long Way Home 5/?
Title: Let's Take The Long Way Home
Author: hungrygirrl
Rating: G
Length: 2522 words
Spoilers: None.
Summary: Quinn and Rachel cross paths years later...with both of them much different from how they were in high school...and yet still much the same.
Author's note: Sorry this took quite a long time. Real life got a little too busy and motivation to write was running low. I'll try my best to chug out another chapter in less time than it took to get this one out. Again, I thank whomever has been kind enough to leave a review. :)
Chapter 5
Accepting Quinn's invitation to dinner at her place - with the blonde herself taking on culinary duties - didn't take much thought for Rachel. So far, she has found this 27 year old version of Quinn nothing but charming and infinitely interesting. As baffling as the blonde's flirtiness has been, she has been able to credit the blonde's natural charm for this. However much feared Quinn had been in high school, others had still gravitated toward her, owing to a certain allure and charisma she has always possessed, only layered underneath her tough head cheerio persona.
Rachel surmises that it's taken all these years for all the layers on top to peel off. The Quinn she has encountered today seems to be a Quinn stripped of her high school protective barriers.
And this Quinn, she has found inexplicably beguiling.
Which is why she had accepted the dinner offer without preamble, barely able to hold back an excited squeal.
Rachel finds herself standing at the door of the music room with Beth, watching Quinn approach. The previous three days, their interaction had been minimal with Rachel always rushing off to meetings and after-work appointments. Truth is, those appointments had been hastily arranged in order to clear Friday night which is when dinner at Quinn's will be at.
Tonight. Only a few hours away.
"Hi, Rach," Quinn calls out. It hadn't taken her long to totally get accustomed to calling her by her abbreviated name, the gesture further confirming in the brunette's head that friendship is the blonde's sincere intent.
"Hey, Quinn," she returns, waving back.
Quinn accepts Beth's hug, giving the smaller blonde a kiss on the side of her head. "Hey, kiddo. Ms. Berry treating you well?" she questions, nudging her daughter with her hip.
Beth rolls her eyes, still a little embarrassed by her mother's familiarity with her much admired music teacher.
"Much better than you used to treat me," Rachel answers for the bashful kid, eliciting laugher from Quinn.
"Touche, Rach. Touche," Quinn concedes, still chuckling. "That's why I'm paying up with dinner tonight. We are still on, are we?"
"On for what?" another voice interrupts behind Quinn. Santana appears, a curious eyebrow quirked.
Quinn instinctively turns to Rachel, hoping the brunette would take on answering the latina's question, wary of the teasing that's bound to follow. Rachel refuses to cooperate though, shrugging while throwing her a look that says the blonde gets to take this one.
"Wasn't my idea," Rachel mumbles under her breath before grinning at Quinn.
"So? Are you two going to stop making googly eyes at each other anytime now or would I have to ask Beth instead?" Santana presses impatiently.
"Mom, what's googly eyes?" Beth asks, curious.
Rachel laughs lightly while Santana manages a fond look of amusement. "I'll have Rachel explain it to you later, sweetie," Quinn informs her daughter, shooting Rachel a triumphant smirk.
Santana watches the exchange, pleased and yet a little apprehensive about the progress between her two friends. Over the recent years she's worked with Rachel, she has come to consider her fellow brunette a friend. And if she were to be completely truthful with herself, her current fears are mostly for the music teacher. Between the two, she considers her to be the more vulnerable. For as long as she's known Quinn, she's seldom had to worry about her, even when their contact had been minimal and the blonde had been away from family and friends, she had faith her strong-willed friend would be able to get through most anything.
"I invited Rachel over to dinner tonight," Quinn interrupts her internal musings, surprising the young principal with this bit of information.
"You move fast, Q," Santana remarks, slapping her glaring friend on the back.
After a disapproving head shake and a quick glance at Rachel who seems to now be sporting a faint tinge of pink on her cheeks, Quinn tries to set the grinning brunette straight. "Wasn't it you and Brit who kept reminding me I had a lot of making up to do to Rachel?" she reminds Santana. "Consider this a first step," she declares with a shrug, hoping to get off the topic.
"First step, huh," Santana replies, her ample lips pursed in exaggerated thought. "First step," she repeats while tapping a finger on her chin, winking at Rachel whose blush deepens.
"It was very nice of Quinn to offer to cook dinner, Santana. I believe it's customary for two people trying to build a friendship," she pauses to glance at Quinn, wordlessly asking for approval to use the "f" word. Quinn smiles in return, nodding in both agreement and appreciation as Rachel finishes, "to meet socially, get to know and be exposed to each other's lives."
"You mean date?" Santana clarifies, completely matter-of-fact. Quinn growls under her breath, secretly afraid the other brunette's teasing would scare Rachel off from even being ok with forming a friendship with her.
"She means as in two friends having dinner together to catch up," the blonde quickly replies before Rachel could even stutter a correction out, the usually loquacious brunette appearing tongue-tied.
"Yes, that's what I meant," Rachel agrees quickly.
"Which means me and this kiddo right here should get going so I can get cooking," Quinn gives a bored Beth a gentle nudge. "Say bye to Aunt S, Beth. Rachel, too, although you'll be seeing her again later," she prompts the kid already reaching up to hug Santana.
"Don't stay up too late, kiddo. Give your mom and Rachel a chance to catch up, alright?" Santana whispers - not too quietly - into the little blonde's ear as Quinn watches with resigned amusement.
"I'll see you later, Beth," Rachel gives the talented kid an affectionate pat on the back as both mother and daughter wave goodbye with Quinn mouthing a smiling "later" to her.
"Berry," the smaller brunette's head whips in attention, Santana's voice pulling her gaze away from the blonde duo. She quirks an eyebrow in question. "Berry..." Santana repeats, looking oddly pensive, a departure from her typical upfront, speak-before-thinking self.
"I am aware that is my last name, Santana. Although James is, technically, what my last name is currently but since we are in the mid-"
"Berry!" Santana cuts her off, appearing to have regained her usual impatience. "Just...tonight, with Quinn..." she hesitates, Rachel's furrowed brows tellign her she has the other brunette's full attention. "Just be ca-," again, she sputters, stopping mid-thought, not quite sure how much liberty she should take in meddling with whatever is happening - or about to happen - between her two high school classmates. Her protective instinct had kicked in, her impulse to tell the music teacher to be careful . "Just be candid," she finally blurts out, earning a confused look from Rachel. "Yeah, just be candid. Shouldn't be too hard for you."
Rachel's look of confusion persists. She gives Santana another questioning look.
"It's not rocket science, Berry. Be honest with Quinn. Ask her questions. Get to know her. And let her get to know you, too, before..."
"Before what?" Rachel prompts Santana, more curious than clueless now.
"Nothing," Santana dismisses her question with an eye roll.
"I think I know what you're trying to tell me, Santana. And yet I think I have absolutely no idea," Rachel remarks with a chuckle.
"Pft, Berry. Again, it's not rocket science. You two keep going on about trying to become friends. So go be friends. Just make sure everything's out in the open because that's how it is with friends, isn't it? Total honesty," the brunette principal finishes, ready to make her leave before the other brunette asks more questions. "Anyway, I have to go. Brit's making enchiladas tonight. I can't be a minute late for that," she informs Rachel, signalling her departure with a forced-looking wave. She softens the rash dismissal with a half-smile and a wink. Rachel watches her leave, digesting the brunette's mysterious directives.
"Honey, can you get the door please," Quinn calls out to Beth when she hears knocking at the same time her timer buzzes, unwilling to risk leaving the main course inside the oven a second longer. For some reason, she feels the pressure to make sure things go right tonight. "Ask who's at the door before you unlock it, honey," she reminds her daughter as she pulls the eggplant parmesan from the oven while keeping an ear on the conversation at her front door.
She smiles to herself when she hears Rachel's voice, crystal clear even from behind the wooden barrier. "It's Rachel, sweetie. And just so you know it's really me, you were wearing jeans, a light blue top, and blue chucks to school today." The blonde's smile turns to chuckles when she hears this, surprised when she hears the long-winded brunette's voice again. "And your mom was wearing khakis and a pale pink top when she picked you up." Quinn's ears perk at this, eyebrows elevating as her mouth curls into a smile.
Next she hears Beth greeting Rachel while the latter compliments her on being well aware of safety protocols for answering the door.
"You missed my footwear when detailing my attire, Rach," Quinn remarks, grinning to herself when she hears footsteps approaching.
"White chucks," comes the quick reply, causing her to turn away from the current task of lining up garlic bread on a plate and toward their somewhat blushing guest.
"Good to know you pay attention." Surprisingly, Rachel does not reply, instead scrunching up her nose at the blonde for her teasing.
"Should I set the table, mom?" Beth breaks their grinning match with her question.
"Please, sweetie. Thank you," Quinn replies.
"I can help her with that," Rachel offers, ruffling the smaller blonde's hair lightly.
"No, no, no," Quinn quickly rejects the idea even as she resumes plating. "You're the guest and you're to do nothing tonight but, hopefully, enjoy the food," she declares firmly.
"And the company?" a voice asks from behind, closer than expected, eliciting a little shiver from the blonde.
Especially when she feels a fleeting tap on her lower back. She turns slightly toward Rachel - now standing behind her attempting to peek over her shoulder - smiling softly.
"Yeah. Hopefully, the company too."
"I would bet money on that," Rachel reassures. "I'd bet money on enjoying the food, too. Judging by how good it smells."
"Give me another minute and then you can judge by how it tastes." Quinn tries to sneak another glance at the brunette, surprised when she no longer finds the smaller woman behind her. She spots her at the end of the counter, her attention on something.
"I guess I'm not the only googler around here." Rachel looks up with a teasing smile, holding up her discovery - an eggplant parmesan recipe printout.
Quinn laughs, feeling the last bit of nerves evaporate. Teasing Rachel, she can now conclude, is real adorable Rachel.
"Guilty," she concedes, feigning regret at being caught red handed. "I'm more used to making chicken parmesan, which is Beth's favorite, by the way. She wasn't too happy when I announced chicken would be replaced by eggplant tonight but as soon as she realized it'd be for her beloved Ms. Berry, I didn't hear another peep out of her." Quinn tells her story while attempting to balance the eggplant parmesan dish on one arm while picking up a bowl of greens with the other.
Rachel scurries to her side to help, grabbing the bowl of sauteed spinach from Quinn. "Here, let me take that. It's the least I could do after all the trouble you went through and for forcing my dietary preferences on you guys."
"Oh, shush, Rachel," Quinn admonishes the brunette. "How much trouble could it be to google and substitute chicken with eggplant? And besides, it's high time Beth started broadening her gastronomical horizons outside of chicken this and chicken that."
"She doesn't like vegetables?" Rachel asks, leaning slightly against the counter as she looks up at the blonde.
"Oh, she eats her carrots and peas but outside of that, it takes a little bit of convincing. Maybe you can help me with that?" she quirks an eyebrow, her smile fading into a look of horror when she realizes what she may have implied with her words. "Not that I expect you to take on the responsibility of helping raise my child or to make it your business what she eats and d-"
"Shush, Quinn," Rachel interrupts, giggling at the blonde's rant.
The combination of her laughter and that warm hand on Quinn's forearm do nothing to ease the blonde's once again slightly frazzled nerves.
"I'll gladly educate Beth on the benefits of having vegetables in her diet," Rachel voices in reassurance, adding, "besides, that daughter of yours and I," she pauses, gesturing with a finger, "I think we're on the same wavelength," she finishes with a wink.
This time, it's Quinn's turn to giggle. Inwardly, she marvels at Rachel's calming effect on her. One teasing remark or the hint of a giggle and everything feels lighter instantly.
She makes the sound of an exaggerated groan, nudging Rachel's hip as she walks past the smaller woman. "That's not really very reassuring, babe," she whispers, bringing her face close to the brunette, grinning before resuming her walk toward the dining room.
Behind her, Rachel laughs quietly, suddenly more excited to have dinner with the Fabrays.