Pairing: Quinn/Rachel

Synopsis: (4 of 5) Rachel realizes it's time to confront Finn and tell him the truth, but she's realistically apprehensive. Quinn is nervous as well, because it means finally getting what she's always wanted.

Author's Note: Lyrics from Rae Spoon's "If You Lose Your Horses." I wanted to thank everyone for the really kind words they've been sending and letting me know what you think of this story. I know it took me a bit to get back to it so I'm glad some of you have stuck around to finish it out. One more chapter to go after this! Hard to believe, I guess, but it always is when I'm finishing up a story. Again, thank you!

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4. Wherever You Are

If you've got the blues, I'll stand by you,
If I lose my horses because they ran off when lightning struck,
Will you come home from wherever you are?

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Rachel listened to Quinn's easy breath, traced the line of her throat with her fingers, comparing their skin tones, a whisper of a smile on her lips. One glance at the messy blonde hair and the pouted pink lips made Rachel swoon all over again. She was in bed with Quinn Fabray, felt herself pulled to Quinn even now, after the act of making love and falling asleep together. A longing deep in her heart caused emotion to surge to the surface and Rachel buried herself against Quinn's naked form. It felt natural, perfect, and it was this moment that told her she needed to end it with Finn, because she couldn't spend another night or day without Quinn.

She was working out how to get a hold of Finn, when to go back to the apartment, any of the details that gave her anxiety, when she heard a heavy slamming fist against Quinn's front door. The way her stomach dropped was enough to indicate that it was Finn.

The knocking even woke Quinn – and Rachel avoided making comparison to a sleeping bear. Both women pulled some semblance of clothing on, and instinctively Rachel grasped Quinn's hand as she unlocked the front door and saw Finn standing there. The man took one look at their clasped fingers and disheveled appearances and burst into the apartment.

Rachel fell back against Quinn and was caught in the blonde's arms, then just as Quinn was about to open her mouth and potentially yell something bruising at the tall man, Rachel stopped her. Finn's eyes were welling up with tears.

"Did I do something, Rach? I always tried to be the best man I could for you," his voice cracked only a little.

Quinn and Rachel flushed with guilt, sharing a glance that allowed Quinn to excuse herself. Even the blonde, it seemed, knew that some conversations didn't need a third-party. Quinn retreated into her bedroom and closed the door as quietly as possible.

Rachel's arms folded over her midriff, and her eyebrows knitted together in a concerned way. "I'm sorry. It was never you, Finn. I mean, it was never your fault. You're a good man. You're just not a good man for me."

There it was - the bold and honest truth. Finn looked angry for a moment, confused the next, and then sat down on the low-built couch. He looked overly tall on the piece of furniture. Rachel sat next to him and touched his hand cautiously as if she were afraid he would strike out at her. "So all this time –"

"I wanted it to work with you. It's not like all those years with you were a lie. I never lied to you. And as … terrible as this sounds right now, I do love you. I guess I was just trying to force something that was never meant to be."

"But why Quinn? You guys really hated each other," Finn asked, perplexed, wiping the ghosts of tears away from his eyes. He was composed now, no tear in sight, the only indication of his sadness was the slump of his shoulders and the way his eyebrows sloped.

"I can't explain it. I mean…maybe I shouldn't try. I don't know if it will help you."

Finn nodded. He seemed to debate it. "Maybe it wouldn't."

Rachel took a quiet breath, wrapped her arms around Finn's back and stomach, hugged him close.

"You're like my family."

"And you're like mine."

"Will things be weird now?"

Rachel laughed a little, relieved. It seemed that for all of Finn's hot temper, he was just as calm now. Maybe it had come from knowing underneath the surface of it all that eventually he would lose Rachel as a lover. "I hope they won't be."

Finn nodded. They shared a mutual silence for a little bit, Rachel's hand rubbing Finn's shoulder. "I don't really like New York that much. I mean my job is here now but … I think maybe I'll see if I can get some time off. Go visit my family."

"That'd be a good idea."

"I love you, Rach."

"Love you, tall guy," Rachel brushed her fingers through his hair for a moment as she stood, pressed her lips to his forehead.

After that, Finn saw himself out and Rachel locked the door behind him. She'd figure out when to get her stuff later. The brunette padded up the stairs and found Quinn in her bedroom, sprawled on the bed with a book in her hands. At the sound of the door closing, Quinn rolled over and turned her sleepy gaze on Rachel.

"How'd it go?" It was her way of seeing if Rachel was okay. Maybe it was also her way of confirming that this is what Rachel wanted.

By way of answer, Rachel crawled into bed, pulled the book from Quinn's hands, and straddled her lap. Their bare thighs met as Rachel rested her weight on Quinn, and guided her lover's hands beneath her shirt. Quinn's fingers made the brunette's skin ignite with electricity, especially when they found a nipple. Rachel rocked into the slow caresses beneath her t-shirt, groaned a little. She met hazel eyes with her own hooded brown eyes.

Quinn groaned deep in her throat. It was enough to set a mutual fire between them, and Rachel thought certainly Quinn would go further but she continued the manipulation of Rachel's eager flesh for a few moments longer, until Rachel's hips rocked forward. Quinn's deft fingers slipped down Rachel's stomach, left a trail of goosebumps, and as they distracted themselves at her hips, Rachel slipped her shirt over her head. The brunette ducked her head forward as she felt Quinn's mouth enclose her nipple, sucking delicately at first and then more insistently, drawn between teeth.

When Quinn's fingers slipped inside her, Rachel knew it was a wrap. She only hoped that no one else decided to knock at the door for the rest of the day.

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Everyone knew now, weeks later, that Rachel and Quinn were an item and that their presumably straight brunette was decidedly not. This meant that Rachel's boss had insisted Quinn stop coming in to distract Rachel. Although both women had balked about it, neither fought it much. It did distract Rachel from work because Quinn was like a magnet, both emotionally and physically. The sight of her drew a craving from deep inside Rachel; if it was not lust, it was a deeply emotionally yearning.

Finn had dropped off the map for that first few weeks after the break-up. Kurt had called Rachel asking what had really happened, and Rachel only hoped that the family didn't think badly of her. Somehow, when Rachel had called to tell her own parents of all that had transpired, they didn't sound all that surprised. Leroy had even said something under his breath that sounded vaguely like, "Finally."

Quinn, it seemed, wasn't much in contact with her family. Not like it made a very large difference – the pair filled their hours with one another when they weren't working.

On the eve of their one-month anniversary, Rachel had come home to a candlelit dinner and a home-made dinner. Although Quinn wasn't an amazing chef, she could still put together a nice dinner. She'd plated finely seared chicken breasts, seasoned just right, and some potatoes and vegetables on the side. When Rachel had begun to speak, she was silenced with a gentle (and somehow lust-inducing) kiss, fingers on either side of her neck.

Rachel breathed in the taste of Quinn's lips before breaking away.

"It's only been a month, but I just wanted you to know that … I'm in love with you." Quinn breathed in the tense air between them. Candle-light played in those hazel eyes. "Every day with you feels like this … gift. It's profound and crazy and I don't know if I'll ever feel settled or normal. I feel on fire, and I'm not as good at words as you are but – Jesus, Rachel, you're everything to me."

Rachel's fingers tangled in blonde hair as she tugged the taller girl into a consuming kiss. There were tears, tongues, teeth, small whimpers. It wasn't until Rachel pulled away moments later, breathing heavily, that she realized they had a dinner to eat before anything else could happen. She didn't want Quinn's cooking to go to waste. She felt the blonde's fingers grasping her hips and drew in a deep, calming breath. "I'm so in love with you."

Quinn's smile was a quiet one, the grateful smile of someone who'd gotten far too little in life, and she pressed her lips to Rachel's cheek before pulling her into an embrace. She whispered "I love you" over and over until she felt satisfied that she'd expressed the depth of her feeling.

They sat down to dinner, chairs beside one another rather than across, and Rachel made sure that Quinn knew that this dinner was more than mediocre. The blonde had professed a while back that she wasn't a very good cook, but she must've been watching YouTube cooking videos while Rachel was at work because the meal turned out to be really damn good.

After dinner, they cleaned the kitchen together.

Surprisingly, they didn't celebrate their anniversary with sex. They lay in bed together, twined like shadows, and eventually fell asleep. Rachel mused, half-asleep, that in high school she would've done almost anything to be with Quinn like this.

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"You have too many things," Quinn grunted as she set an overlarge box in the living room.

"What do you mean? I threw out most of it when we were getting ready to move them in here."

"Exactly my point," Quinn panted, dabbing her forehead with a small hand-towel. "You had twice this amount of things and we still have – " She motioned to the space in front of them. The once-minimal living room was occupied by at least 20 boxes.

And there were still five suitcases upstairs in the bedroom that needed to be unpacked.

"I collect art. I'm not going to stop collecting art or give away my things. It's like an investment."

Quinn chuckled, reached forward just enough to grab Rachel by the hips. She leaned up, pressed her lips to Rachel's collarbone, and felt those hands grasp her shoulders. "I'm giving you shit. Don't be so serious."

Rachel gave a quiet laugh, "Sorry," she reflexively ran her hand through Quinn's messy and slightly sweat-dampened hair. "I guess I'm kind of used to people expecting me to change things."

"You're perfect. I don't want you to change."

Rachel rested her head on top of Quinn's, and they stood there for a few moments, resting from the heavy work of moving sculptures and boxed paintings. Quinn was actually looking forward to the loft-warehouse apartment having more of a creative flare. Since her roommates rarely returned to the building, they'd been able to spread out a little and start making the space their own.

A knock on the door interrupted them. When Quinn disengaged and opened the door, Rachel spotted Finn and Sam at the doorway. Sam lifted a tool-box.

"We ready to start decorating?"

Finn gave an answering smile and headed in the apartment, immediately plugging power-tools in and setting up a ladder or two.

"Thank you for doing this," Rachel thanked the pair of men, and hugged Sam as he stepped in the door. She saw Finn all the time, but Sam had only recently moved to New York. He and Finn were roommates. Or rather, he, Finn, and Kurt were roommates.

Since Kurt and Sam had started dating and fallen in love – totally in secret, imagine that.

"We'll have this place looking good in no time."

"You on the other hand," Kurt commented as he swung the door open, not bothering with pretenses. "You and your trendy lesbian partner need my help organizing that closet," the boy murmured, glancing over Quinn in a way that communicated that he definitely did not approve of Quinn's outfit.

He disappeared with Rachel, seemingly to organize the brunette's clothing. Quinn, however, began the work of helping the guys get Rachel's paintings and sculptures mounted and arranged.

The splinter-group of glee kids worked easily together. As Rachel listened to the work being done in the living space, and listened to Kurt murmur approval and disapproval at her clothing (along with a "Really, Rachel?" when he found an animal sweater from high school), she thought that some things took plenty of time to happen as they were supposed to. Waiting had been the hardest part, and now as all the pieces began to fit together, she could've taken the whole group in a giant bear-hug.

"Jesus!" Kurt all but threw another animal sweater at Rachel. "I don't know what you're thinking but I really hope this isn't a keepsake that you and Quinn use to role-play."

Rachel only smirked, eyes alight.

Kurt's eyes went wide and he looked as if he was going to wretch, covering his mouth with his hand. "I'm going to pretend I didn't just see that sly look on your face because that is disgusting."

Rachel grinned. When a sweaty Quinn popped in to check on them, she saw the animal sweater and Kurt's expression, she only laughed.

"I should've brought gloves."

"It's not as if there are any stains."

Kurt ran out of the room and slammed the bathroom door. It would be a half an hour before they could coax him out of there.