Summary: Before Quinn sets off to New Haven, she contemplates whether or not she should tell Rachel how she really feels. At the last minute, there’s just no way Quinn can just leave without saying anything. Will Rachel finally open her eyes and see what’s been in front of her the whole time or will she continue to be blindsided by her big oaf of a fiance?
The note cards are ready to go in her pocket and as she crosses Rachel’s driveway she recites her speech to herself. Ideally she won’t have to read off of her carefully penned notes, but being prepared helps bolster the courage she needs to pull this off without a hitch.
She stands on the porch in the balmy, late summer air and wills herself not to sweat as her finger hovers over the doorbell. It’s not too late. She can still climb back into her car, drive back home, and go to bed early so she can be awake and alert for her 7 am flight to Connecticut tomorrow.
No. That’s not an option. If she leaves now without saying what’s been weighing on her heart for so long she won’t be able to sleep, let alone leave Ohio. She has to ring the bell.
Her finger rests lightly on the button and she can hear the chimes ringing through the Berry’s house. She can see one of Rachel’s dads through the window walking towards the door and her heart races.
“Quinn, what a surprise! We’re just sitting down to dessert. Leroy made his world famous blueberry crumble. Would you like to join us? ”
She shakes her head. “No, no thank you.” Her mouth is dry and her hands are shaking. Hearing Finn’s laugh echoing from inside doesn’t help. “But could I…I need to talk to Rachel, please.”
“Honey, are you all right? You look flushed.” Hiram looks genuinely concerned, and Quinn smiles to reassure him.
“I’m fine, thank you. I just have something for Rachel that I’d like to give her before I leave tomorrow.”
He nods and signals for her to wait a moment before disappearing inside the house. Within a minute Rachel is standing at the front door looking confused, but not unhappy.
“Quinn, come in! Dads and Finn and I are just having a little celebration before we leave for New York this weekend and—“
“I can’t stay,” she announces, “but I…I just have something to say.”
“You didn’t have to come all the way over here, silly. You have my phone number.” Rachel laughs at her own joke and Quinn feels the corners of her own mouth lifting, even as she curses herself for the awkward situation she’s about to create.
“It’s important, Rach.”
“Do you want me to…” she motions towards the door and Quinn nods. Rachel shuts it behind her and suddenly it’s just the two of them on the porch, alone among the humming of cicadas and the smell of freshly cut grass.
“I’m leaving for New Haven tomorrow,” she starts, looking at her shoes, “but before I go there are just a few things that I need you to know.”
“Oh—okay,” Rachel stammers, clearly unsure about where this is going, but Quinn continues.
“I know we’ve had our ups and downs and I know that it took me far too long to give you the respect that you deserve. I should never have been so awful to you and I…I think you understand now that so much of how I treated you had to do with how much I hated who I was.”
“Quinn, we’ve talked about this it’s—“
“Please, let me finish.” She has to start again. She lost her place. “How much I hated who I was…and part of it, Rachel, was because of how much I hated who I was afraid I might be. You…you have no idea the effect you have on people and…God.”
She should have just done this like in Love Actually with the posterboard and the pictures and the music. She had thought about it, but it didn’t seem as honest. She needs to say the words.
“You’ve seen me at my worst and have always, without reason, supported me. You were there every time I needed someone, and I should have let you in. You’ve always been truthful and honest, even if it occasionally gets you in trouble, but tonight I’ve decided to take a page out of your book.”
“I don’t think I understand…”
“Just…if I don’t ever see you again, I need you to know that I love you, Rachel. I love you like I’ve never loved anyone. If I could do it all over, every moment since the first time I heard you sing, I would have told you so much sooner so that maybe, I could have a chance.”
Rachel is silent, but her eyes are wide and her mouth has formed a small, perfectly round ‘o’. Quinn knows she should stop. This is where her planned speech ends, but the words keep coming.
“And I don’t think I’m the only one on this porch with feelings she can’t explain, because I’ve seen the way you look at me, Rachel, and I know you feel it, too. You feel something for me, or at least you did. I understand that you’re engaged to Finn, and while I think it’s ludicrous that you would commit yourself so young to someone who is just so…who just doesn’t…who has no idea what you’re worth, I want you to be happy. If that really means marrying Finn Hudson, then I wish you the best and I truly hope he loves you as well as you deserve, but if it doesn’t, I want you to know that there is someone only 80 miles up the east coast who would kill for the chance to make you happy.”
“You…you don’t have to say anything. I know it’s a lot to hear.” The truth is that she’s dying for a response and if Rachel doesn’t say anything, then this whole effort has been fruitless. “I’m so sorry—-“
But Rachel has already passed back through the door and Quinn is on the porch, alone and dejected and so, so stupid. She turns and walks across the lawn and feels the cool, damp grass against her ankles. Of everything she’s done over the course of the last four years, this is the most selfish, the most self-serving, and the least considerate. What did she expect? That Rachel would end her engagement on the spot and run away with Quinn on a whim?
She’s almost to her car when she hears Rachel call her name and it’s instinct, rather than desire, that forces her to turn on her heel and catch sight of Rachel on the steps. She’s running towards Quinn with a box and an envelope in her hand. As she gets closer Quinn can see the tracks that tears have left on her cheeks.
“Take these,” Rachel demands. “And read the letter.”
“Now. Right now.”
She rips open the envelope and pages and pages of Rachel’s surprisingly messy handwriting are stuffed in tight.
“Rach, it’s dark out here. Can you give me the Cliffnotes?”
“It’s just…it says that…it says that I love you, too. And that I’ve felt something for you, deep and terrifying, for the last three years, and that I’ve ended my relationship with Finn—-of course, I was going to send this after I actually had and the plan is to do so tonight, but you’re here now and with everything you’ve said it felt like the right moment and—“ and she’s crying, really crying. It’s contagious and the impenetrable Quinn Fabray feels tears pricking the corners of her own eyes. “It’s you, Quinn. It’s always been you.”
“Come here,” she murmurs as she wraps her arms around Rachel’s small shoulders. Rachel looks up at her, her dark eyes shining in the moonlight under the blanket of stars overhead.
Tomorrow she’ll be on a plane reading and rereading Rachel’s letter and wondering how they’re going to make this work while Rachel gently breaks the news to Finn that they’re relationship has come to and end. But now, in the simple, soft darkness of this warm night, there is only this closeness of her hands on Rachel’s waist and the quiet wonder of this new beginning.
Emma: You have really pretty eyes, do you know that?
Regina: Shut up. And hold still.
Emma: I mean, I know you adopted him, but sometimes Henry is so like you that I expect him to look like you too, you know?
Regina: Probably because you’re an idiot. Who picks fights with creatures she can’t possibly defeat.
Emma: Hey, your stupid monster is dead now.
Regina: Do you know how many men Grendel has killed? Probably even more than you slept with skanking around Florida for two years.
Emma: Hey! And who taught you the word ‘skank’?
Regina: Your colorful vocabulary is rubbing off on me. Along with your blood and what I hope is just water.
Emma: Might be monster spit, sorry.
Regina: (closing her eyes and taking a deep breath) Impossible. Truly, truly impossible.
Emma: Ow! Careful.
Regina: You’re lucky those claws didn’t take your eye out. Or sever your head, more to the point.
Emma: It was easy when you showed up to tell me what to do.
Regina: I can’t always do that.
Emma: I don’t know, saving each other is totally our embarrassing hobby.
Regina: I don’t think it’ll need stitches. I would use magic, but Henry—
Emma: Show me how. We’ll use mine.
Regina: Very well. (lays Emma’s own hand over her torn skin) Now think about two hands coming together: clapping, or praying, maybe.
Emma: Okay. (beat) Hey, it worked!
Regina: Well, no doubt you’ll be using that skill again before long. You idiot.
Emma: You could just tell me you were worried, you know.
Regina: (starts to cry, looks horrified about it) It was just like… and at the stables of all places… Emma. Don’t do that again.
Emma: Hey, hey, it’s okay. I won’t, okay? Unless Henry is directly in danger, I won’t go ripping off anyone’s arm. Actually, I’ll do it if you’re in danger, too.
Regina: You don’t have to.
Emma: I do. (they kiss, quickly and softly, others could walk in at any moment) I’m sorry I scared you.
Regina: The Evil Queen doesn’t get scared, dear.
Emma: The Evil Queen might want to try telling that to her panda eyes.
Regina: Let’s get you home. You’re staying with me tonight.
Emma: You sure?
Regina: I can’t sleep if you don’t.
Emma: Then pack me some PJs, it’s sleepover time.
Quick fanart inspired by this wonderful fic. I just can’t with this withdrawal…
So over the week, Incoming Messages has reached over 1000 favourites, and that is absolutely astounding! Seriously, you guys are fantastic. So as a treat, here’s a ficlet. I still can’t promise a sequel, but I hope you enjoy this as a token of my appreciation.
It was today. Today that Emma and Regina had been waiting for for over a year.
Their wedding day.
The hall where the ceremony was held was decorated elegantly, Regina’s careful designer eye scrutinizing every detail from the picking of the white and red fabrics that draped the floor to ceiling windows to the white and red roses lining the arch at the head of the hall. The chairs were lined up, covered in white cloth as roses were scattered along the aisle where the brides would soon walk out from.
To keep up appearances as Mayor, Regina had invited almost all of Storybrooke, and the large room was filled with excited chatter at the prospect of watching their hard ass Mayor finally settle down and tie the knot.
The chatter died down as soon as the music began. Mary Margaret, dressed in a red knee length bridesmaid dress carrying a single white rose, glided down the aisle, her eyes watering in excitement for her friend. Kathryn followed soon after wearing an identical dress and a wide grin. Finally, Henry appeared at the back of the aisle dressed handsomely in his tuxedo. He looked to his right and then to his left, and right on cue, both his mothers appeared from opposite entrances, veils covering their faces, white silk gowns adorning their bodies and a red rose bouquet held firmly in their shaky grasps.
They approached their son at the same time, taking a moment to soak in the image of their soon-to-be wife.
Emma grinned through her veil, mouthing a faint ‘hi’ and was received with a wide smile from her brunette counterpart. Chancing one final glance at each other, both women weaved their arms through Henry’s as their son walked his mothers down the aisle.
Pictures were snapped, capturing the family make the short walk to the alter where a judge stood ready to officiate their marriage. When they reached the alter, Henry stood on his tippy toes giving both Emma and Regina a kiss on the cheek before he turned to sit beside David in the front row.
Emma handed her bouquet to Mary Margaret before turning to face Regina. The blonde took a step closer, and with nervous hands, she lifted the veil to reveal the woman she was moments away from spending her life with. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in Regina’s face. Gone was the dark make up that usually had grown men shaking in their boots. Instead, Regina glowed. The light gold of her eyeshadow brought out the deep chocolate of her eyes, but nothing shined brighter than the brunette’s smile.
Emma grinned, dropping her hands to allow Regina to do the same, pleased when the Mayor held a similar reaction at Emma’s perfectly made up face.
“Hi,” Regina recalled the blonde’s earlier words in a whisper.
Emma stepped forward, pressing a kiss to the corner of Regina’s mouth before taking her hand and facing the judge.
The ceremony went by in a quick blur, and only a couple of times did Emma forget the vows she was supposed to repeat causing a chuckle from the crowd and her future wife. Finally, the blonde slipped the gold band around Regina’s finger, relieved that the brunette was just as anxious as she. She grinned when Regina slipped the band on her finger, and all but tuned out the judge proclaiming them joined in matrimony when she became lost in a sea of deep brown eyes. The clap from their guests was the only signal she had that they were officially wed, and with little prompt, Emma closed the distance between them, a hand on Regina’s waist and one just under her chin as she whispered into the older woman’s mouth. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Regina replied breathily before connecting their lips in their first kiss as wives.
Their lips touched, and like always, sparks exploded behind their eyelids as they moved together in sync. With their eyes shut, they weren’t aware of the blast of magic emitting from them and the dazed and confused looks of their guests. It was only when they broke apart and realized that the crowd was eerily quiet for a wedding did Emma begin to look around in confusion.
“You.” Mary Margaret pointed a threatening finger at Regina.
Rachel wakes up, and the first thing she notices is that she’s alone in the bed. The second thing she notices is that her throat still hurts. Neither of these things are conducive to starting her day off right.
She’ll have to go to the doctor today. With her starring role on Broadway, she can’t take any chances. She’s confident that it’s nothing serious, but one can never be too careful.
It’s the fact that she’s alone that makes her want to curl up with her pillow for awhile longer. Unfortunately, even hugging her pillow doesn’t keep the memories of their fight last night at bay. It was stupid really. She had been grumpy because of her sore throat, and she felt she hadn’t performed up to par at the show. And Quinn was stressed. She had a huge presentation at work this morning. Rachel hadn’t exactly been supportive, but Quinn had been cold and snappish.
It was their first real fight since exchanging their “I dos” a month ago, and Rachel regrets it entirely. And what if…
What if this would become the norm with them? What if they become one of those couples that fight all the time and never seem happy with each other? What if Quinn thinks that getting married was a huge mistake?
Rachel can feel her throat closing up at the thought, and she forces herself to get up and get moving in order to stop thinking about it. The problem is that even while getting ready for the day and calling her doctor to schedule a quick check up in a couple of hours (and thankfully her doctor is willing to give up her lunch hour for her), she can’t stop thinking about it.
She does her best to keep herself busy over the next couple of hours. But between her thoughts and her sore throat, she’s miserable. As the clock slowly ticks toward when she needs to leave, she debates calling Quinn just to let her know she’s going to the doctor’s office. She stares at her phone, and then finally decides just to do it. It goes to voicemail.
Rachel breathes unsteadily as she hears Quinn’s familiar voicemail.
“Hey… I’m going to my doctor at 12:30 to get a checkup on my throat. I just… I just wanted you to know. Hope your presentation went well.”
She sighs as she hangs up, but it’s time to go so she throws her phone in her purse and heads out the door. She gets to the doctor’s office with about ten minutes to spare. Unfortunately that means she spends those ten minutes staring at her phone. There’s no response from Quinn.
She fidgets as she waits. The TV in the waiting room is on CNN, and the magazines on the coffee table are outdated. Nothing keeps her attention. Her fidgeting is only briefly interrupted by a nurse who pokes her head out to tell her that “Dr. Sharpe wanted me to tell you that she’ll be with you in just a second Ms. Berry.” Rachel nodded her head in acknowledgement, and went back to fidgeting.
She hears the door to the office open over to her right, and casually looks over to see who the new patient might be. Her heart jumps into her throat when she’s met with familiar blonde hair and hazel eyes.
“Quinn!” she says, practically jumping to her feet.
“Rachel,” Quinn says. Rachel fights to keep the smile off her face at hearing Quinn say her name with so much concern. ”I came as soon as I could.”
“No! Thank you!” Rachel says hurriedly. ”What about your presentation?”
“I wrapped it up early,” Quinn says. “I told them I had to meet my wife at the doctor’s office.”
A thrill shoots down Rachel’s spine at hearing Quinn refer to her as her wife. ”You didn’t have to.”
“It’s your throat. I know how nervous you get with anything that could effect your singing,” Quinn says.
Rachel nods her head, and then three things happen at once.
She opens her mouth, an apology getting ready to fall from her lips just as Quinn takes a couple of steps forward, saying “I’m so sor—”
Simultaneously, the door leading back to the checkup rooms opens, and Dr. Sharpe appears. ”Ms. Berry, I am so sorry to keep you waiting.”
Both Rachel and Quinn fall silent, and Rachel reluctantly breaks her gaze away from Quinn’s to address her doctor. ”It’s no problem at all. Thank you for taking me on such short notice.”
“Any time,” Dr. Sharpe says congenially. Then she angles her head toward Quinn, “Is this your—”
“Yes,” Rachel says quickly. She flashes a quick smile toward Quinn before looking back at Dr. Sharpe. ”This is my wife, Quinn.”
She’s feels Quinn’s hand against her arm, and she can’t keep the smile off her face. Neither it seems can Quinn. It’s amazing how much happy referring to Quinn as her wife makes her.
“Pleasure to meet you Quinn,” Dr. Sharpe says, striding forward to offer her hand. She exchanges a handshake with Quinn, and says, “Rachel couldn’t stop talking about you last time she was here for a checkup. Or the time before that.”
“Oh?” Quinn says. She raises a singular eyebrow, a slight smirk appearing on her lips as she regards Rachel out of the corner of her eye.
Rachel fights to keep the blush off her cheeks, and is thankfully saved by Dr. Sharpe. ”Would you two like to follow me to the back?”
As Dr. Sharpe turns, leading them farther back into the office, Rachel reaches for Quinn’s hand. And when Quinn tangles their fingers together, giving her hand a light squeeze, Rachel knows that she and her wife are going to be perfectly okay.
Fanfiction favorites pt 2 (pt 1)
All cred goes to the fantastic writers! If you don’t want me posting your work just shoot me a message and I’ll remove it.
Fanfiction favorites pt 1 (pt 2)
All cred goes to the fantastic writers! If you don’t want me posting your work just shoot me a message and I’ll remove it.
Quinn: So Santana would be..
Quinn: That one was easy.
Rachel: What is the poi-
Mike: ..Gryffindor, but only because he’d ask to be.
Mike: Ravenclaw… but you’d opt for Slytherin because of pureblood family pressure.
Quinn: Nice to see you remember my headcanon.
Rachel: Your head wh-
Quinn: Okay, what about Rachel?
Quinn: Excuse me?
Rachel: Oh for the love of Ba-
Mike: S-she’s ambitious and will do what she has to to get what she wants.
Quinn: Are you calling my girlfriend ruthless?
Quinn: Are we just forgetting all the times she sacrificed things for other people, even if it gets in the way of her own dream?
Mike: But she is pretty shrewd.
Quinn: Oh you did not.
Mike: Should I run?
Quinn: I hope you’ve got a happy memory in mind.
Mike: I should run.
Quinn: Your skeleton will lie in the choir room forever, Mike Chang!
“Mommy! Mommy, why are you dressed like a cheerleader?” Quinn frowned, her head tilting as she looked to the little girl calling her name. This was the wrong school, clearly. Once again The Doctor had brought them to the wrong place. She shook her head slightly, silently praying this wouldn’t be like the last time, when they’d found themselves stuck in an air-raid shelter instead of at the concert she’d asked to go to.
“Mommy? Why are you here?”
“Quinn!” The Doctor skidded to a halt at her side, pointing frantically towards the doors he just burst through. “We have to go.”
“Now. We have to go now.”
“Mommy, who’s that?”
“Why does she keep calling me mommy?” Quinn asked. The Doctor’s eyebrows raised as he looked down at her, a look she’d seen before. It said ‘I know why, don’t ask questions, you know I can’t tell you.’
“Is she.. is she my daughter?”
“Quinn,” his voice held a warning now, and it was enough to confirm she was right.
“She is… isn’t she?”
“We’re leaving,” he said, grabbing her hand and tugging her away. The little girl called to her, sounding scared this time, and Quinn looked back over her shoulder for one last glance at her.
“It’s okay… sweetie,” she said, trying to sound reassuring.
Only when she was through the double doors and back outside did it hit her how much the girl looked like Rachel.