The Past is the Past (Until it Comes Back to You)
Title: The Past is the Past (Until it Comes Back to You)
Pairing/Character: Rachel/Quinn, Beth Corcoran
Rating: PG
Length: ~2,800
Summary: The past catches up with Quinn rather unexpectedly.
Author's Note: Something I've had in my queue for a while to fill the space while I work on other stuff.
Quinn Fabray sits at her desk, well after everyone else has gone home, and tries desperately to figure out exactly what Mr. Donaldson has done to his family’s taxes. She has a box full of receipts to her left, a notebook to her right, and her computer with tax software (that is practically worthless in this case) directly in front of her. She’s more than frustrated because she swore she’d be home by dinner but a glance at the clock reading 6:02pm tells her she wouldn’t be.
The sound of the front door of the tax office squeaks open and Quinn immediately drops her pencil and reaches for her desk phone. The two possibilities that run through her mind are that security is dead and she’s about to be or a co-worker has come back for a lost possession. Despite being on the 18th floor of a very, very nice building, she immediately assumes the worst. She’s ready to press the keys to call the police when the silhouette of a girl stops outside of her office and glances in the open door.
“Ms. Fabray?”
Quinn nods. “Can I help you?”
The girl steps into Quinn’s lit office from the dark hallway and it’s like looking in a mirror…if that mirror showed images from seventeen years in the past. The only thing off are the girl’s eyes. They’re brown, not hazel and her skin is a shade or two darker.
“Ms. Fabray…I’m your daughter.”
It’s like déjà vu. Only this time, Quinn is the one being spoken to instead of sitting in the balcony of Carmel High’s auditorium. She puts down her pencil and rotates her chair a little to the right to get a better look at the girl standing in front of her desk. She’s wearing a pale blue babydoll dress with a white cardigan over it and a matching blue headband. Her blonde hair falls over her shoulders and she offers a small smile.
“You can sit if you like,” Quinn finally says.
The girl nods and pulls one of Quinn’s chairs away from the wall to directly across the desk and takes her seat. She folds her hands and puts them up on the desk; Quinn notices the cuticles look as though they’ve been picked at. She glances to her own hands that mirror them.
“So…you’re her?” the girl speaks softly.
Quinn nods. “You’re…”
“Beth.”
Quinn’s heart catches in her throat upon hearing that name. It’s crossed her mind more times than she can count in the last seventeen years but it was an unspoken agreement that it wasn’t to be talked about.
“How did you find me?”
“The internet. Your name is on my birth certificate and I’m not exactly an idiot. Google isn’t hard to use.”
“Right.” Quinn rubs her temples. “Why are you in Los Angeles?”
“School trip.”
“Glee?”
“Nope.”
“Drama?”
“Wrong again.”
“Band?”
“Ew.”
“Cheerleading?”
“No way.”
“So…”
“Chemistry club.”
Quinn quirks an eyebrow, honestly surprised. A girl that had grown up with Shelby Corcoran as a mother and hers and Puck’s DNA…is in chemistry club.
“Chemistry club?”
Beth shrugs. “There’s a seminar at UCLA about genetics,” she says. “Since I’m no good at anything involving the fine arts Mom sends me to all of the science stuff I want. I was helping senior chem two students when I was a freshman. I’m pretty good at math, too. I take calc at OSU every week for dual credit. I guess I got it from you.”
“I was good at algebra, never really got calc. Accounting is more about just knowing the formulas and knowing the laws.”
“What was my dad good at?”
“Being a manwhore.”
It earns Quinn a giggle from Beth and she offers back a smile. The tension in the atmosphere lessens a bit and Quinn closes her notebook; work can wait. She clasps her hands on top of her desk and looks straight into the eyes of the young girl in front of her.
“Why did you give me up?”
Cautiously, Quinn reaches forward and hovers her hand over Beth’s. The contact of skin is a little eerie, considering she’s practically looking in a mirror. It’s the first time she’s touched her daughter since she held her immediately after she was born.
“I wasn’t ready. I was sixteen.”
“Lots of moms keep their kids and do fine. Why didn’t you try?”
“Would you have kept a baby last year?”
“No…Mom probably would’ve killed me.”
“She loves you.”
“Don’t you?”
Before Quinn can answer her desk phone rings, startling both blondes who jump away from the desk. Quinn takes a quick glance at the caller ID and chews on her lower lip.
“One minute,” Quinn says, picking up the receiver. “Hey Rach. I’m really trying to get aw-”
“Crayons are non-toxic, right?! Oh God, Quinn, please tell me they’re non-toxic!”
“Did you read the label on the crayon box? Does it say non-toxic?”
“Th-the label! Right! Yes! Yes, the label says they’re non-toxic.”
“Babe, is everything okay?”
“Jordan got into the craft cabinet without my knowledge and consumed no less than six crayons. Is it possible they’ll have some adverse effect on his health?”
“Probably some colorful diapers tomorrow. Rachel…I’m kind of busy right now. I promise I’ll be home as soon as I can, okay?”
“Yes, well, please hurry. Ella finger painted on her bedroom wall and Christopher is being no help at all…”
“He’s five.”
“He can at least not climb up the pantry shelves to hide when it’s bath time.”
“I’ll be home soon, I promise.”
“Okay, okay…Christopher! Get out of the pantry or I’m getting the garden hose!...I don’t care if we don’t have a garden hose, I will find one and use it! I love you, gotta go, bye!”
Quinn smiles and glances back up to Beth as she drops the receiver onto its base. The girl is a little wide eyed, a little hurt looking.
“Rachel?”
Quinn nods. “Eight years. We met in high school, though…It wasn’t until college that we started getting along and…it just happened.” Quinn watches Beth’s eyes dart to the 8x10 photo framed on her wall and the young girl furrows her eyebrows.
“Rachel Berry? As in the actress and…Mom’s-”
“I know. It took a while to not feel a little weird about that.”
“Yeah since she’s like…my sister or something. So you guys have kids?”
Quinn nods again, this time not being able to suppress her grin. “Three and uh…” Quinn looks down at the noticeable baby bump pushing out her shirt, “one on the way. A girl.”
“Wow. You guys have your hands full.”
“A little bit. Beth, I’m sorry, but I really have to go.” Quinn shuts off her monitor and clears her desk into the locked cabinet above her head. She grabs her purse and checks to make sure the cabinet is locked. Beth stands and follows Quinn out of the office.
“I…I was looking at maybe picking up some applications for the biological chemistry department,” Beth says quickly. “I’m thinking of doing pre-med.”
“That’s…that’s great.”
“I was wondering if maybe like, I could come see you sometimes? If I get in?”
And there it is. The bomb. Quinn stops in front of the elevator and shakes her head. She knew that someday she’d probably confront the girl but she didn’t expect to be cornered like this. Completely unexpected.
“Beth…”
“L-look, I know this is totally random and I’m totally a stalker for this but I really want to know you. I want to know who I am. I know who my mom is and she’s great and I love her but…genetically speaking, I don’t know who I am. I want to know. My DNA…”
“Sweetie, DNA doesn’t mean everything. Trust me.” Quinn pushes the button on the elevator and stares up at the lights, avoiding the girl’s gaze. This was rapidly bringing up things Quinn desperately wanted to avoid. Her parents, mainly. Like her own failed relationship with her mother. Her father’s look as he threw her out for carrying the girl now standing next to her.
“The chemical composition of my body begs to differ. I do things I don’t get…things Mom doesn’t do. L-like picking my nails. You do it, I saw it. Mom always yells at me for it but I can’t stop.”
“Beth, listen,” Quinn takes a deep breath and finally turns to meet the girl’s gaze, cursing the fact that this elevator is extremely slow, “have you ever done anything illegal?”
Beth’s mouth opens and closes. “I…I might have accidentally been experimenting with some um, highly explosive chemicals in a…well there’s this abandoned warehouse…”
“You set it on fire?”
“Only a little one.”
“How much trouble were you in?”
“I…kind of got out of it. I’m good with that.”
“You got that from Puck.”
“Puck is…”
“Noah Puckerman, your father.”
“Okay.”
“You pick your fingernails and you don’t give up on what you want. That’s from me.”
The elevator finally opens and Quinn steps in after Beth and pushes the down button. She fidgets with the hem of her shirt and runs her hand over the baby bump and smiles a little at the flutters from within. She knows the first thing that will happen when she gets home is Rachel pressing her hands firmly against the growing bump to try to feel the flutters that Quinn has been feeling for a few weeks now.
“Can I feel?”
“You probably won’t feel anything.”
Beth nods. “Can I try?”
Quinn shrugs. She’s used to it. Strangers were all over her when she was pregnant with Ella. She turns and Beth cautiously reaches out to press her hands against the baby bump. She moves them around a little and furrows her eyebrows. When the elevator stops in the parking garage she heaves a heavy sigh and pulls back.
“I didn’t feel anything.”
“It’s early. Rachel’s been trying for weeks.”
“Yeah…I should probably get back. My friends are covering for me.”
“You really are Puck’s kid.”
“I told you, genetic composition is important. You’re my mom-“
“No,” Quinn shakes her head. “I’m just…I let you live in me for a while, that’s all. Shelby is your mom.”
“You…you don’t want anything to do with me? You really don’t? All I’m asking for is like…maybe dinner or something every now and then. I want a relationship with you.”
It’s the question that Quinn thinks about every holiday, Beth’s birthday, and anytime her fingers brush against the piece of paper she keeps in her sock drawer with Beth’s footprint on it from the day she was born. The answer…
“This won’t work, Beth. I have a family, I have almost four kids and a wife and I can’t do this. You’re a great kid but you’re not mine. You’re Shelby’s.”
“What the hell?”
“Beth…”
“I'm risking expulsion by being here and you're rejecting me again?!”
“I’m sorry.”
“Is this some kind of revenge thing? Are you still pissed at Shelby for giving up Rachel so now you’re like taking it out on me?”
Quinn’s shoulders slump and she looks at her shoes and shakes her head. “That has absolutely nothing to do with it.”
“Look, I’ll talk to Mom. I’ll tell her I came here and I want-“
“Beth,” Quinn looks up and straight into her daughter’s eyes, “I have a lot of people to think about in my life. My kids aren’t old enough to understand how it works and Rachel…It would hurt her, Beth. It would hurt her because every time she saw you she would be reminded of what she lost. It’s not revenge. It’s protecting my family.”
“Rachel’s still upset about it?”
Quinn sighs. “She hasn’t talked about it in a long time but I know that she doesn’t need a reminder.”
“This whole trip was a waste,” Beth mumbles. She shoves the front door of the building open and begins to briskly walk away but Quinn stops her with a hand on her elbow. She’s not about to let this girl start wandering around Los Angeles by herself.
“Listen,” Quinn says as she pulls a $20 out of her wallet and tugs Beth to the curb. Quinn signals a taxi to pull over and presses the money into the girl’s hand. “Take this and get back to your group, okay?”
“I don’t want-“
“Just take it.”
“Why do you hate me?” The question is a whisper but Quinn hears it loud and clear.
“I don’t hate you.”
“Just talk to Rachel. Talk to her and tell her-“
“Don’t do this, please,” Quinn begs. “The only way this can end is me hurting you and I’d rather do it now than later. You’re a good kid and you’re going to do a lot of amazing things, Beth, but you can do them without complicating things. Keep life simple, alright? Don’t complicate things; that’s the best advice I can offer you.”
Beth wraps her fist tight around the money in her hand and nods before flinging her arms around Quinn’s back and pulling her in. Quinn returns the embrace quickly but pulls away just as fast and opens the cab door. She shuts it when Beth is safely inside and has given the driver directions to the hotel and he speeds off. Quinn makes her way to the parking garage and her black sedan to head home. When she steps in the door she’s greeted with three little bodies colliding with her and Rachel coming out of the kitchen with a look that can only be described as pure relief.
“Hey baby,” Quinn says with a soft smile. She kisses Rachel’s forehead and lets her lips linger for a bit longer than usual before pulling away to kneel and hug each of her children.
“How was your day?” Rachel asks, taking Quinn’s briefcase and leading her to the kitchen.
Quinn keeps quiet until she sits at the kitchen table and pulls Jordan up onto her lap. The boy smiles and snuggles into Quinn’s chest and Quinn smiles before looking up at Rachel to give her response.
“Just fine. Same as usual. How were things here?” Quinn looks at the other two children that have joined them in the kitchen and laughs. “Were my little monsters good today?”
Quinn gets three responses all at once, telling her of their adventures with Mama and she listens as best she can. She helps get her kids set up for dinner and bathes them afterward. She and Rachel together sit and read a bedtime story on the couch before tucking the kids into bed and retreating back downstairs to clean up the day’s events. When the kitchen is thoroughly cleaned they forgo the evening news to get to bed and Rachel pushes up Quinn’s pajama shirt to press her hands to the baby bump. Quinn feels the baby move and Rachel jumps.
“I felt her!”
“I told you to be patient.”
Rachel presses a kiss to the bump and keeps her hands moving to each flutter. She whispers a lullaby and the flutters settle down. Quinn runs her fingers through Rachel’s hair and tugs her up to eye level to get a kiss from her wife before settling down next to her and cuddling close.
“I can’t wait to meet her,” Rachel whispers, her hands going right back to Quinn’s stomach.
“Me either, Rach.”
“She’ll be perfect, I’m sure.”
“Of course.”
Quinn drifts to sleep with the sensation of Rachel’s hand rubbing her stomach and the flutters of their baby girl. She gives one final thought to the seventeen-year-old in a hotel not far from her and then back to her family at home and she knows she did the right thing and that hopefully, one day, she’ll be forgiven.
Pairing/Character: Rachel/Quinn, Beth Corcoran
Rating: PG
Length: ~2,800
Summary: The past catches up with Quinn rather unexpectedly.
Author's Note: Something I've had in my queue for a while to fill the space while I work on other stuff.
Quinn Fabray sits at her desk, well after everyone else has gone home, and tries desperately to figure out exactly what Mr. Donaldson has done to his family’s taxes. She has a box full of receipts to her left, a notebook to her right, and her computer with tax software (that is practically worthless in this case) directly in front of her. She’s more than frustrated because she swore she’d be home by dinner but a glance at the clock reading 6:02pm tells her she wouldn’t be.
The sound of the front door of the tax office squeaks open and Quinn immediately drops her pencil and reaches for her desk phone. The two possibilities that run through her mind are that security is dead and she’s about to be or a co-worker has come back for a lost possession. Despite being on the 18th floor of a very, very nice building, she immediately assumes the worst. She’s ready to press the keys to call the police when the silhouette of a girl stops outside of her office and glances in the open door.
“Ms. Fabray?”
Quinn nods. “Can I help you?”
The girl steps into Quinn’s lit office from the dark hallway and it’s like looking in a mirror…if that mirror showed images from seventeen years in the past. The only thing off are the girl’s eyes. They’re brown, not hazel and her skin is a shade or two darker.
“Ms. Fabray…I’m your daughter.”
It’s like déjà vu. Only this time, Quinn is the one being spoken to instead of sitting in the balcony of Carmel High’s auditorium. She puts down her pencil and rotates her chair a little to the right to get a better look at the girl standing in front of her desk. She’s wearing a pale blue babydoll dress with a white cardigan over it and a matching blue headband. Her blonde hair falls over her shoulders and she offers a small smile.
“You can sit if you like,” Quinn finally says.
The girl nods and pulls one of Quinn’s chairs away from the wall to directly across the desk and takes her seat. She folds her hands and puts them up on the desk; Quinn notices the cuticles look as though they’ve been picked at. She glances to her own hands that mirror them.
“So…you’re her?” the girl speaks softly.
Quinn nods. “You’re…”
“Beth.”
Quinn’s heart catches in her throat upon hearing that name. It’s crossed her mind more times than she can count in the last seventeen years but it was an unspoken agreement that it wasn’t to be talked about.
“How did you find me?”
“The internet. Your name is on my birth certificate and I’m not exactly an idiot. Google isn’t hard to use.”
“Right.” Quinn rubs her temples. “Why are you in Los Angeles?”
“School trip.”
“Glee?”
“Nope.”
“Drama?”
“Wrong again.”
“Band?”
“Ew.”
“Cheerleading?”
“No way.”
“So…”
“Chemistry club.”
Quinn quirks an eyebrow, honestly surprised. A girl that had grown up with Shelby Corcoran as a mother and hers and Puck’s DNA…is in chemistry club.
“Chemistry club?”
Beth shrugs. “There’s a seminar at UCLA about genetics,” she says. “Since I’m no good at anything involving the fine arts Mom sends me to all of the science stuff I want. I was helping senior chem two students when I was a freshman. I’m pretty good at math, too. I take calc at OSU every week for dual credit. I guess I got it from you.”
“I was good at algebra, never really got calc. Accounting is more about just knowing the formulas and knowing the laws.”
“What was my dad good at?”
“Being a manwhore.”
It earns Quinn a giggle from Beth and she offers back a smile. The tension in the atmosphere lessens a bit and Quinn closes her notebook; work can wait. She clasps her hands on top of her desk and looks straight into the eyes of the young girl in front of her.
“Why did you give me up?”
Cautiously, Quinn reaches forward and hovers her hand over Beth’s. The contact of skin is a little eerie, considering she’s practically looking in a mirror. It’s the first time she’s touched her daughter since she held her immediately after she was born.
“I wasn’t ready. I was sixteen.”
“Lots of moms keep their kids and do fine. Why didn’t you try?”
“Would you have kept a baby last year?”
“No…Mom probably would’ve killed me.”
“She loves you.”
“Don’t you?”
Before Quinn can answer her desk phone rings, startling both blondes who jump away from the desk. Quinn takes a quick glance at the caller ID and chews on her lower lip.
“One minute,” Quinn says, picking up the receiver. “Hey Rach. I’m really trying to get aw-”
“Crayons are non-toxic, right?! Oh God, Quinn, please tell me they’re non-toxic!”
“Did you read the label on the crayon box? Does it say non-toxic?”
“Th-the label! Right! Yes! Yes, the label says they’re non-toxic.”
“Babe, is everything okay?”
“Jordan got into the craft cabinet without my knowledge and consumed no less than six crayons. Is it possible they’ll have some adverse effect on his health?”
“Probably some colorful diapers tomorrow. Rachel…I’m kind of busy right now. I promise I’ll be home as soon as I can, okay?”
“Yes, well, please hurry. Ella finger painted on her bedroom wall and Christopher is being no help at all…”
“He’s five.”
“He can at least not climb up the pantry shelves to hide when it’s bath time.”
“I’ll be home soon, I promise.”
“Okay, okay…Christopher! Get out of the pantry or I’m getting the garden hose!...I don’t care if we don’t have a garden hose, I will find one and use it! I love you, gotta go, bye!”
Quinn smiles and glances back up to Beth as she drops the receiver onto its base. The girl is a little wide eyed, a little hurt looking.
“Rachel?”
Quinn nods. “Eight years. We met in high school, though…It wasn’t until college that we started getting along and…it just happened.” Quinn watches Beth’s eyes dart to the 8x10 photo framed on her wall and the young girl furrows her eyebrows.
“Rachel Berry? As in the actress and…Mom’s-”
“I know. It took a while to not feel a little weird about that.”
“Yeah since she’s like…my sister or something. So you guys have kids?”
Quinn nods again, this time not being able to suppress her grin. “Three and uh…” Quinn looks down at the noticeable baby bump pushing out her shirt, “one on the way. A girl.”
“Wow. You guys have your hands full.”
“A little bit. Beth, I’m sorry, but I really have to go.” Quinn shuts off her monitor and clears her desk into the locked cabinet above her head. She grabs her purse and checks to make sure the cabinet is locked. Beth stands and follows Quinn out of the office.
“I…I was looking at maybe picking up some applications for the biological chemistry department,” Beth says quickly. “I’m thinking of doing pre-med.”
“That’s…that’s great.”
“I was wondering if maybe like, I could come see you sometimes? If I get in?”
And there it is. The bomb. Quinn stops in front of the elevator and shakes her head. She knew that someday she’d probably confront the girl but she didn’t expect to be cornered like this. Completely unexpected.
“Beth…”
“L-look, I know this is totally random and I’m totally a stalker for this but I really want to know you. I want to know who I am. I know who my mom is and she’s great and I love her but…genetically speaking, I don’t know who I am. I want to know. My DNA…”
“Sweetie, DNA doesn’t mean everything. Trust me.” Quinn pushes the button on the elevator and stares up at the lights, avoiding the girl’s gaze. This was rapidly bringing up things Quinn desperately wanted to avoid. Her parents, mainly. Like her own failed relationship with her mother. Her father’s look as he threw her out for carrying the girl now standing next to her.
“The chemical composition of my body begs to differ. I do things I don’t get…things Mom doesn’t do. L-like picking my nails. You do it, I saw it. Mom always yells at me for it but I can’t stop.”
“Beth, listen,” Quinn takes a deep breath and finally turns to meet the girl’s gaze, cursing the fact that this elevator is extremely slow, “have you ever done anything illegal?”
Beth’s mouth opens and closes. “I…I might have accidentally been experimenting with some um, highly explosive chemicals in a…well there’s this abandoned warehouse…”
“You set it on fire?”
“Only a little one.”
“How much trouble were you in?”
“I…kind of got out of it. I’m good with that.”
“You got that from Puck.”
“Puck is…”
“Noah Puckerman, your father.”
“Okay.”
“You pick your fingernails and you don’t give up on what you want. That’s from me.”
The elevator finally opens and Quinn steps in after Beth and pushes the down button. She fidgets with the hem of her shirt and runs her hand over the baby bump and smiles a little at the flutters from within. She knows the first thing that will happen when she gets home is Rachel pressing her hands firmly against the growing bump to try to feel the flutters that Quinn has been feeling for a few weeks now.
“Can I feel?”
“You probably won’t feel anything.”
Beth nods. “Can I try?”
Quinn shrugs. She’s used to it. Strangers were all over her when she was pregnant with Ella. She turns and Beth cautiously reaches out to press her hands against the baby bump. She moves them around a little and furrows her eyebrows. When the elevator stops in the parking garage she heaves a heavy sigh and pulls back.
“I didn’t feel anything.”
“It’s early. Rachel’s been trying for weeks.”
“Yeah…I should probably get back. My friends are covering for me.”
“You really are Puck’s kid.”
“I told you, genetic composition is important. You’re my mom-“
“No,” Quinn shakes her head. “I’m just…I let you live in me for a while, that’s all. Shelby is your mom.”
“You…you don’t want anything to do with me? You really don’t? All I’m asking for is like…maybe dinner or something every now and then. I want a relationship with you.”
It’s the question that Quinn thinks about every holiday, Beth’s birthday, and anytime her fingers brush against the piece of paper she keeps in her sock drawer with Beth’s footprint on it from the day she was born. The answer…
“This won’t work, Beth. I have a family, I have almost four kids and a wife and I can’t do this. You’re a great kid but you’re not mine. You’re Shelby’s.”
“What the hell?”
“Beth…”
“I'm risking expulsion by being here and you're rejecting me again?!”
“I’m sorry.”
“Is this some kind of revenge thing? Are you still pissed at Shelby for giving up Rachel so now you’re like taking it out on me?”
Quinn’s shoulders slump and she looks at her shoes and shakes her head. “That has absolutely nothing to do with it.”
“Look, I’ll talk to Mom. I’ll tell her I came here and I want-“
“Beth,” Quinn looks up and straight into her daughter’s eyes, “I have a lot of people to think about in my life. My kids aren’t old enough to understand how it works and Rachel…It would hurt her, Beth. It would hurt her because every time she saw you she would be reminded of what she lost. It’s not revenge. It’s protecting my family.”
“Rachel’s still upset about it?”
Quinn sighs. “She hasn’t talked about it in a long time but I know that she doesn’t need a reminder.”
“This whole trip was a waste,” Beth mumbles. She shoves the front door of the building open and begins to briskly walk away but Quinn stops her with a hand on her elbow. She’s not about to let this girl start wandering around Los Angeles by herself.
“Listen,” Quinn says as she pulls a $20 out of her wallet and tugs Beth to the curb. Quinn signals a taxi to pull over and presses the money into the girl’s hand. “Take this and get back to your group, okay?”
“I don’t want-“
“Just take it.”
“Why do you hate me?” The question is a whisper but Quinn hears it loud and clear.
“I don’t hate you.”
“Just talk to Rachel. Talk to her and tell her-“
“Don’t do this, please,” Quinn begs. “The only way this can end is me hurting you and I’d rather do it now than later. You’re a good kid and you’re going to do a lot of amazing things, Beth, but you can do them without complicating things. Keep life simple, alright? Don’t complicate things; that’s the best advice I can offer you.”
Beth wraps her fist tight around the money in her hand and nods before flinging her arms around Quinn’s back and pulling her in. Quinn returns the embrace quickly but pulls away just as fast and opens the cab door. She shuts it when Beth is safely inside and has given the driver directions to the hotel and he speeds off. Quinn makes her way to the parking garage and her black sedan to head home. When she steps in the door she’s greeted with three little bodies colliding with her and Rachel coming out of the kitchen with a look that can only be described as pure relief.
“Hey baby,” Quinn says with a soft smile. She kisses Rachel’s forehead and lets her lips linger for a bit longer than usual before pulling away to kneel and hug each of her children.
“How was your day?” Rachel asks, taking Quinn’s briefcase and leading her to the kitchen.
Quinn keeps quiet until she sits at the kitchen table and pulls Jordan up onto her lap. The boy smiles and snuggles into Quinn’s chest and Quinn smiles before looking up at Rachel to give her response.
“Just fine. Same as usual. How were things here?” Quinn looks at the other two children that have joined them in the kitchen and laughs. “Were my little monsters good today?”
Quinn gets three responses all at once, telling her of their adventures with Mama and she listens as best she can. She helps get her kids set up for dinner and bathes them afterward. She and Rachel together sit and read a bedtime story on the couch before tucking the kids into bed and retreating back downstairs to clean up the day’s events. When the kitchen is thoroughly cleaned they forgo the evening news to get to bed and Rachel pushes up Quinn’s pajama shirt to press her hands to the baby bump. Quinn feels the baby move and Rachel jumps.
“I felt her!”
“I told you to be patient.”
Rachel presses a kiss to the bump and keeps her hands moving to each flutter. She whispers a lullaby and the flutters settle down. Quinn runs her fingers through Rachel’s hair and tugs her up to eye level to get a kiss from her wife before settling down next to her and cuddling close.
“I can’t wait to meet her,” Rachel whispers, her hands going right back to Quinn’s stomach.
“Me either, Rach.”
“She’ll be perfect, I’m sure.”
“Of course.”
Quinn drifts to sleep with the sensation of Rachel’s hand rubbing her stomach and the flutters of their baby girl. She gives one final thought to the seventeen-year-old in a hotel not far from her and then back to her family at home and she knows she did the right thing and that hopefully, one day, she’ll be forgiven.