Disclaimer: I, by no means, claim to own anything remotely related to the Glee Universe. No copyright infringement intended.

Part One

Feel Again

Rachel doesn't mind that Quinn very rarely mentions them, mainly because she doesn't either. Their lives are already so tightly entwined that it makes no actual sense to dredge up all the unpleasantness of their mutual past.

Them.

The unmentionables.

Beth and, invariably, Shelby are filed away so far, sometimes, that Quinn needs to be past-drunk, deeply-sad and on Beth's birthday for any feelings about the child she doesn't get to know to be revealed.

The first few years together, Rachel gave her space, but now she sits with her and they cry together. It's a joint pain now, because Quinn has become her heart, and if Quinn hurts, so does Rachel.

Still, they don't talk much about them.

True, Beth has been on the brain a little more lately, given their recent circumstances, but Quinn stays away from actually saying her name. As if putting it into the Universe hurts her in some way.

Rachel doesn't blame her, of course, but this moment almost seems inevitable. It was bound to happen at some point, which is really the only reason Rachel doesn't panic the way her head and heart are screaming for her to.

She thinks she has a right to, given the endless day in the studio she's just endured. Performing on stage is one thing, but the cast recordings are slated for rerelease when her run on the show comes to an end in two months' time, and they've been working overtime on their Dark Days to ensure it all gets done perfectly.

Rachel knows Quinn is supposed to be home early, so the two of them can actually spend the evening together, seeing as Rachel doesn't have a show, and this is why Rachel believes the Universe has made this happen on this very day.

Inevitable and all that.

Because, well, Rachel thinks she would know those cheekbones just about anywhere. She's spent years falling asleep to the sight of similar ones, their form pressed against her own warm skin.

So, when she arrives at the apartment she shares with Quinn to find a blonde girl leaning against the door, she already knows who it is.

For a terrifying moment, Rachel has the urge to turn right around and ignore everything about this current situation. Really, she probably could have gone her entire life without this particular brand of drama.

But, well, Quinn's daughter is standing at their door, and Rachel doesn't have the heart to turn her away, as much as she might want to protect herself - and Quinn. She also has no idea how this will affect her wife, given the way things were left with Shelby their senior year.

Badly.

Everything was just a mess, really.

All the work Rachel did to make sure Quinn didn't reveal Shelby and Noah's affair was all for naught in the end, because the truth ended up coming out, anyway, and the aftermath was horrific, to say the least.

Shelby lost her job, inevitably, and Rachel knows very little beyond the woman packing everything up once again and taking Beth and disappearing from all their lives, leaving them all in the dark about her whereabouts.

Quinn has never been able to forgive Noah, and Rachel tries not to think about any of it. She and Quinn have talked about it a handful of times, particularly when they're discussing their own potential children, and Rachel has always got the impression that Quinn is hesitant to carry another child, even if she'll never actually admit it.

She wants them, sure - dozens, she once joked - but maybe they'll all have to come from Rachel's body.

So, suffice to say, it's a shock to see Beth Corcoran standing at their door, looking all for the world like the young woman Quinn wished for her to become. She's beautiful, a perfect blend of Quinn and Noah's best physical features. Fourteen now, and she's grown so much from the toddler Rachel sometimes remembers.

Rachel slows her steps as she approaches, wondering if she should maybe wait to make contact until Quinn gets back. She considers it for just a moment before she realises she's not about to let a teenager dictate when she goes into her own home, her wife's daughter or not.

A home she and Quinn have built for themselves over the years, filling it with love and respect and a longing for a sense of family for which both of them have been searching for quite some time.

True, Rachel has her fathers, but Shelby did quite a number on her, and her years in therapy have managed to help only so much. Somehow, she gets the feeling this impromptu arrival of Beth Corcoran is going to result in yet another unwanted meeting with Shelby.

At least, she thinks it'll be unwanted. She can never quite tell with her own self.

Rachel just about manages to keep a lid on her thoughts as she approaches Beth, coming to a stop in front of the girl standing at their door.

Rachel clears her throat. "May I help you?" she asks, her voice steady. She expects that Beth wouldn't know of her existence and, even if she did, the last thing she would expect is for her biological mother to be married to the biological daughter of her adoptive mother.

If she even knows she's adopted.

Why else would she be here, really?

What a complex disaster.

Beth seems to start at the sound of Rachel's voice, and the brunette tries not to look amused. There's something so very Quinn about the way she gathers herself and straightens, looking as composed as a fourteen-year-old can manage.

"Hi," the girl says.

Rachel gives her an expectant look.

Beth blinks. "Oh, um, do you live here?"

Well, Rachel is definitely not going to answer that question.

"It's just, you know, I'm looking for Lucy Fabray, and this is supposed to be her place, so I - " she stops. "I'm Beth Corcoran. Not some crazy stalker or anything. I just - I kind of just need to talk to her, you know? Do you know her?"

Rachel shouldn't be charmed, but she is. "I do," she eventually says. "We live together."

"Oh, cool," Beth says, nodding in understanding. "Sorry to show up just like this," she adds a moment later. She bites her bottom lip, suddenly bashful. "Did - I mean, has she, um, ever mentioned me?"

For the first time, Beth looks so, so young, and Rachel feels a flash of... protectiveness and worry that's always been reserved for her gorgeous, stunning wife.

"She has," Rachel says, her voice warm.

Beth's eyes widen in surprise, and Rachel can only wonder what truths Beth has been told about her biological mother.

"Would you like to come inside?" Rachel asks. "Maybe you can tell me what you're doing here while we wait for Quinn - she goes by Quinn, not Lucy, by the way, it's her middle name - to get home from work." There's no real question in the offer, but Rachel still wants Beth to know she has the option to decline.

Beth hesitates. "Do - do you think she'll be mad I came to see her?"

"Not at all," Rachel says, almost too easily. "I'm sure she'll be very pleased to see you."

"Really?"

"Really," Rachel confirms, fishing in her bag for her apartment keys. "Surprised, obviously, but definitely pleased." Rachel's sure Quinn will end up in tears, if she's being honest.

They might all cry, actually.

She's five seconds away from crying herself, at this point.

Rachel opens the door when Beth steps aside, and it's the first time she notices the stuffed backpack on the floor at Beth's feet.

Well.

She steps through the front door, holding it open when Beth follows. She winces slightly, unsure of the state of their place, but she's quietly relieved when she sees Quinn managed to clean up before she left.

Rachel eventually closes the door, automatically locking it the way Quinn has drilled into her over the years. They didn't always live in such a secure building, and Quinn has been very concerned about their safety from the get-go. More-so now with all the fame.

She drops her keys in the bowl they keep near the coat closet, easily slipping out of her thin jacket as she sets her bag on the table beside the door. The apartment opens right into their main living space, wide and bright and open plan enough to battle Quinn's claustrophobia.

The room, itself, is warm, with pale blues and wooden undertones. From the door, the dining room and kitchen are visible, if behind large pillars, offering Rachel a view of Quinn whenever she's cooking up a storm or typing away at the dining table when she needs a change of scenery.

This is their home. It never ever occurred to her that Beth would be standing in it.

"Make yourself comfortable," Rachel says, taking out her phone and contemplating whether it's a good idea to give Quinn a heads up about what's currently happening. "Do you want something to drink? Something to eat?"

Beth does a small turn, taking in the space with wide eyes. "Uh, do you have some juice?" she asks. "Please."

"We should," Rachel says. "Why don't you come with me to the kitchen and we'll find something?"

Beth sets her backpack beside one of the armchairs and dutifully follows as Rachel leads the way. She's trying to be calm - it's very difficult - about this entire situation, but the severity is bound to catch up to her.

Beth is here.

Why is Beth here?

Rachel steps into the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge. She's tempted to down a shot of something just to calm herself, but she discards that thought immediately.

"Hmm," she sounds. "We have some orange juice, some sweet tea... I think that's cranberry juice, but I can't be sure how old it is. There's almond milk. This coconut/rice milk blend that Quinn loves." She lifts her head. "Unless you want tea or something. You're probably too young for coffee, right?"

Beth looks a little amused. "Um, orange juice should be fine," she says.

Rachel blushes as she goes about pouring a glass for her, watching as she slips onto one of the stools at the breakfast nook. "Can I make you a sandwich?" she asks. "I'm not much of a cook - that's really Quinn's forte - but, well, I can heat up some leftovers, too."

Beth looks a little hopeful, and Rachel can only wonder when the last time she ate was. "I - "

Rachel just smiles. "It's pasta," she says, moving back to the fridge. "Quinn makes this amazing red sauce. I'm a vegetarian, but she adds these bacon bits to her own that she seems to enjoy, if you're interested."

It turns out, well, that Beth is very interested, and Rachel can only marvel at the deeply satisfied look the teenager gets on her face when she starts to eat. It reminds her of Quinn, and she feels her heart twist unpleasantly at the fact her wife has had to miss out on all of this for so long.

Rachel makes herself a cup of chamomile tea, just to settle her nerves and give herself something to do that doesn't involve staring at Beth while she eats.

She eventually sits opposite Beth, carefully sipping her tea while she checks her phone. She has many emails about work, and texts about works and missed calls about work.

Work and more work.

She can't wait until she gets to take a break.

Two months and counting.

"Are you telling her I'm here?" Beth suddenly asks, and Rachel's gaze snaps up.

"Oh, no," Rachel says, setting her phone on the counter. "Just some work stuff."

"What do you do?" she asks, sipping her juice.

"I perform," Rachel says. "On Broadway."

Beth nods, but she doesn't look particularly impressed. It's a little refreshing, if Rachel's being honest. Though, also a little alarming, because she has an actual album out, and it seems she's not reaching Beth's demographic. She'll have to talk to her manager about it for the second album.

Rachel drinks more of her tea, staving off her desire to fidget. "You're starting high school soon, right?"

Beth nods around a mouthful of pasta. "In September."

"How are you feeling about that?"

Beth shrugs. "It's... whatever."

Rachel resists the urge to laugh. Teenagers are so... teenager-ish. Still, she has so many questions she wants to ask, but she doesn't even know where to start or if she even should without having Quinn here.

She reaches for her phone again, to check the time. From what she remembers of Quinn's summer schedule, Rachel needs Quinn to hurry up. She should be home by now. Why isn't she home yet?

When the phone starts to ring, Rachel almost jumps out of her skin. She almost expects for it to be Quinn, but it's both a relief and anxiety-inducing seeing Kurt's name instead.

"Excuse me," Rachel says to Beth, and then slides off her stool as she answers the phone with a steady, "Hey."

"Are we still on for brunch tomorrow?"

"Hello to you, too, Kurt," Rachel says, letting some of the tension bleed out of her body. "Since when are we having brunch?"

"Quinn said the two of you have something to tell us."

Rachel's eyes widen and her free hand twitches at her side, feeling the need to touch. "Oh, yes, I remember," she says. "Um, I'll probably have to get back to you to confirm. Quinn and I might have something going on."

"Oh?"

"Yip."

"That's all you're going to tell me?"

"Yip."

"Cryptic," he comments. "Is everything okay?"

"It is," she says. "Just, you know, have everyone on standby, will you? Especially Santana."

"Okay...?"

"Thank you, Kurt," she says.

"I haven't even done anything yet."

"Yip."

"I hate you."

"Well, I hate you, too."

"No, you don't."

"You're right," Rachel sighs. "I love you."

"That's more like it."

"Yeah, yeah," she murmurs. "I'll call you later."

"Later, Berry-Fabray."

"Later, Anderson-Hummel."

Rachel spends a moment breathing steadily once she hangs up. She knows that Quinn sometimes talks to Santana about things she can't talk to her about. Her fears about marriage and parenthood, her worries about her career and her sexuality.

Things she feels she can't bring into their marriage, caught on the fact she'll somehow taint it with the darkness she's convinced she carries within; destroy this beautiful thing for which she's worked so hard.

God, she misses Quinn so much right now.

She takes another deep breath and then returns to the kitchen, where Beth is sitting obediently, her glass, plate and cutlery dutifully washed and dried, sitting piled on the counter near the sink.

"All good?" Rachel asks, moving towards her cooling tea.

Beth nods. "I - I guess I'm sorry if I'm interrupting any plans you might have," she says. "I mean, you don't have to babysit me or anything like that, especially if you have somewhere to be."

"I don't have anywhere else to be," Rachel finds herself saying.

"But, your phone call," Beth points out. "Is - is Kurt your boyfriend?"

Rachel lets out an unstoppable, uncontrollable laugh, because she can't help it. "Oh, wow," she says around a wheeze. "No, he's not. He's definitely, definitely not." She giggles now, shaking her head. "Kurt's my best friend, and very happily married to his husband."

"Oh."

Rachel smiles softly. "I've known him since high school, actually," she explains, more comfortable with talking about herself than asking questions of Beth without her blonde wife around. "So has Quinn. We were all in show choir together."

Beth raises her eyebrows. "She can sing?"

Rachel nods. "She's occasionally sharp when she's not concentrating, but she's very good. It irritates me sometimes that she's never done anything with her Minor in Drama."

Beth perks up at that. "She studied Drama?"

"And English," Rachel says. "Postgrad in Creative Writing."

"She's a writer?"

"She's a writer," Rachel confirms.

Quinn has used a pseudonym for some of her more-popular purely fictional published works, keeping her identity as secret as she can, given her already-famous wife and her career as a literary professor.

People know, of course. Quinn is famous in the academic world, publishing as herself, but her international success as a fiction author is under the name Lucy Quinn.

Rachel clears her throat. "Well, she's a PhD graduate and lecturer at Columbia, mainly," she says, allowing her pride in her wife to seep into her voice. She can't help it. "She's stupid smart and she knows it. She can be a bit of a smug idiot when she wants to be. It's really annoying."

Beth looks riveted, really, and Rachel knows she would probably feel the same way if someone offered her pieces of Shelby. She'll never ask, of course, because she's let go of that fantasy, but she's always wanted more for Quinn, who's only ever wanted to know Beth.

"I get called annoying all the time," Beth says.

"I do, too," Rachel says, rolling her eyes. "I wear it as a badge of honour these days, though. Makes life interesting."

Beth opens her mouth to respond, but they both startle at the sound of a key in the front door. Beth spins around at the same time Rachel tenses, not sure what to expect.

"Rach," Quinn's voice calls out as she tries to slip through the door, her laptop bag hanging off her one shoulder and a few packets of groceries in her left hand. "Rachel, I swear, if you're not here, I'm going to kill you."

Despite her nerves, Rachel lets out a laugh. "I'm here," she calls out.

"Come and help me," Quinn complains. "This shit is heavy. I mean, why the fuck do we need so many beans? Like, who made grains so fucking heavy?"

Rachel has to cover her mouth to stop her laughter. "Oh, my God," she whispers to Beth. "She's going to be so mortified when she realises you're here."

"Rachel!"

Rachel jumps in place, and then starts moving. "Quinn, we have a visitor," she says, leaving the kitchen and hurrying to where Quinn is struggling to get through the door.

"We have a what?"

"Visitor," Rachel says, stepping up to Quinn and relieving her of some of her possessions.

"Since when?"

"Uh, since I found her waiting in front of our door."

Quinn turns to her, frowning. "That sounds ominous," she says. "Crazy fan?"

Rachel swats her arm. "She can hear you."

Quinn's frown just deepens, and Rachel watches for the moment it happens. Quinn's eyes slip past her towards the kitchen where Beth has moved into view, standing like an awkward teenager, and it's as if the great big world comes to a halt.

It's a good thing Rachel is holding Quinn's bags, because her arms suddenly go limp as her jaw slackens.

"Beth," Quinn's mouth says, but no sound actually comes out.

Rachel feels tears spring to her eyes. "It's Beth," she confirms, mainly because she thinks Quinn needs to hear it.

Quinn keeps her eyes focused on the teenager, even as her right hand reaches out to touch Rachel. The moment seems to extend for hours, but it's just a few seconds before Beth gives this awkward, little wave and says, "Hi."

It takes Quinn another few moments to move, and Rachel is the one who closes and locks the door behind her.

"Beth," Quinn says, this time audible. "You're here. I can't believe you're actually here." She blinks. "Wait. What are you doing here? Are you okay? Where's Shelby? Does she know you're here?"

Beth's features seem to darken at the mention of Shelby, and Rachel just knows they're about to be dealing with something very serious when all is said and done.

Quinn sets her laptop bag on the ground and takes steady steps towards Beth. She still doesn't look as if she believes the girl is actually standing in front of her.

"You're here," Quinn says again. "God, you're even more beautiful than I imagined." She almost reaches out to touch her, but she restrains herself. "I've - I've been looking for you, but I - I didn't think I would ever see you again."

"Again?" Beth asks. Then: "How do you even know my adoptive mother's name?"

Rachel can't see it, but she's quite certain Quinn's face crumples, because she knows her own does. It's not as if she expected Shelby to tell Beth about her or them, but the confirmation stings in a way she wasn't expecting.

Quinn steps to the right and then drops onto the couch as if her legs can no longer support her. Rachel dumps the groceries on the ground as well, and then moves to sit beside Quinn, using her body as some kind of anchor for them both.

"Hey," Rachel murmurs, running a hand over Quinn's hair. "It's... well, it's not okay, but - " she stops, unsure what to say.

Quinn glances at her. "Am I dreaming?"

"Definitely not."

"Oh."

Rachel looks at Beth, who is staring at them in confusion. "Maybe you should sit," she says, and she waits for the teenager to do just that in one of the armchairs. Then, very carefully, she asks, "What exactly has Shelby told you?"

"Nothing," Beth mutters. "That's why I'm here."

Quinn shifts in her seat. "What?"

"I didn't even know I was adopted until I found the adoption papers in her drawer in May."

Quinn tenses. "What?"

"I had to do my own research to find out anything about you, because she wouldn't tell me anything," Beth bursts out. "She's the literal worst."

Realistically, Rachel knows that can't be true, but she can't bring herself to dispute Beth's statement, which makes her horrible, she knows, but she's still Rachel and Quinn still loves her.

Nothing else matters, really.

Beth leans forward, exasperated in that way that teenagers can get. "I had to do research at the library, and then I found you and it was... insane. You were real, and I - I had to come and see you, so I did."

Quinn stares at her for a long moment. "You came to New York," she says. "By yourself."

Beth shifts uncomfortably.

"Shelby doesn't know you're here, does she?"

Beth drops her gaze to her lap where she's wringing her fingers together.

"Beth," Rachel says. "Does she not know you're here?"

Beth doesn't respond.

"Where have you even come from?" Rachel asks.

This time, Beth scoots back in her seat. "You're going to be mad," she says.

"And, why would we be that?" Quinn asks and if a bit of the HBIC slips into her tone, Rachel doesn't mention it.

"We - we live in Chicago," Beth says. "I, um, caught the bus."

Still, Quinn stares. "You caught the bus," she repeats. "From Chicago."

Beth bites her bottom lip, nodding her head.

"If you'll excuse me a moment," Quinn says, and then abruptly gets to her feet. She turns sharply, and then leaves the room down a corridor, and the last thing they hear is the slamming of a door.

Beth looks nervously at Rachel. "She's mad, isn't she?"

"Perhaps," Rachel concedes. "I think she's just experiencing after-the-fact anxiety over the fact you were on a bus, alone, all the way from Chicago, just to see her, after Shelby didn't even tell you she existed."

"I was fine," Beth says, almost petulantly.

"Which is something you can say now, but the idea that anything could have happened to you is sobering," Rachel says, keeping her voice steady. "Does Shelby know you're safe, at least?"

Beth blinks. "You're not going to make me tell her where I am?"

Rachel sighs. "No," she says. "Just, if Quinn is feeling even half of what Shelby must be feeling, I think she deserves to know nothing horrific has happened to you, don't you think?" she points out. "She must be going out of her mind with worry, and I'd much rather we not get arrested for kidnapping a minor, if you don't mind."

Beth's eyes widen. "Okay, yeah, I should probably text her," she says, and then gets up to retrieve her phone from her backpack. It's been off since she got onto the bus, and she just knows she's in for it when she turns it on.

She's not wrong.

It's completely flooded with texts and missed calls from her mother and her friends, all clearly trying to get a hold of her.

Well.

It's almost uncanny that the phone starts to ring right in her hand, and she sucks in a breath when the word 'Mom' pops up. She wants to ignore it, but she's suddenly angrier with Shelby than she's ever been in her entire life.

Because Quinn is real. She's real and she's beautiful, and she's thought about her and she's been looking for her. How dare Shelby keep Quinn from her?

The rage is almost terrifying when she answers the phone and spits, "What!" into the phone.

Even Rachel flinches.

"Beth?" the voice in the phone says, sounding a lot in disbelief, as if she was just calling Beth's number and not expecting anything.

"Stop calling me," she says, unable to stop herself. "I'm fine."

"Sweetheart, where are you?" Shelby asks, and she sounds distraught.

"What do you care?" Beth asks, harshly.

"Beth," Shelby breathes. "Please, tell me where you are and I'll come and get you."

"Why?" she asks.

"Beth, please," she says. "This is getting ridiculous now. You can't just take off and not tell me where you're going. What if you'd been hurt?"

"I wasn't, and I'm fine, okay? I'm safe."

"Where?"

"With my real mom," Beth snaps.

Shelby sucks in a sharp breath, but all Beth feels is blind rage.

"She's been looking for me," Beth says, needing to hurt. "She - she's met me before, and she knows who you are, and I hate you. I hate you for lying to me, and she's been here all along, and you just kept her from me, and then you lied, and why - why would you - " she chokes on a sob, and she can't go on anymore.

Suddenly, there are arms around her, and Beth is burrowing into the embrace, her body shaking from the emotions threatening to collapse her.

"Beth? Beth, Honey, are you okay?" Shelby asks, frantic.

Beth just sobs harder, and someone takes the phone from her hand. She closes her eyes, her fists clenching around the fabric of the shirt... Quinn's wearing. She breathes in, smelling apples and cinnamon, comforted in a way she hasn't felt since she found those awful, life-changing adoption papers in her mother's home office.

"Shelby," Beth hears Rachel say. "Oh, um, yes, it's Rachel," she says, sounding very uncomfortable. "Beth's here, yes. She's safe. She's eaten and had something to drink. I suspect she'll crash at some point in the immediate future." There's a pause. "To be honest, I'm not entirely comfortable giving you this address. I'm well aware she's your daughter, and neither Quinn nor I would ever dream of keeping her from you. We're not monsters." There's a certain edge to her voice that makes both Beth and Quinn grow tense.

Quinn rubs circles on Beth's back, humming softly in her ear, and, yeah, Beth thinks she's definitely going to crash. Any second now.

"Look, maybe Beth just needs a few days away," Rachel is saying. "Forcing her to come back isn't going to fix anything. Hmm? Oh, yes, because you know for certain I'm not yet a mother, right? No, I know exactly what you meant, Shelby. So, maybe I'm not a mother, but I sure as hell know what it feels like to have a mother who's capable of disappointing you."

Beth feels as if she's missing something very important, but she's too exhausted to try to figure it out.

"Rach," Quinn murmurs, one of her hands reaching out for the brunette.

Rachel sighs heavily into the phone, and Beth can only wonder what's being said on the other end of the line. "We live in New York." She huffs. "Yes, we," she says. "Quinn and I live together."

There's something else there, Beth's sure, but Quinn is literally lulling her to sleep while she's standing, and she can't help thinking that Quinn is going to make a great mother.

"Well, be sure to get in touch when you get here," Rachel suddenly snaps into the phone. "Beth is fine. Maybe everyone needs this time to come to terms with the truth you've so conveniently kept from your daughter." Her voice sounds hard in a way Beth never suspected it ever could. "You want to talk to her?"

Beth shakes her head, burying her face even more in Quinn's chest. Even Quinn shakes her head, based on the movement Beth can feel.

"I don't think that's a good idea right now," Rachel says, back to sounding diplomatic. "I'll ask her if she's up to calling you later, but she's not up for it right now." The reprieve lasts only seconds. "Hell no," Rachel says, her voice harsh. "You don't get to talk to Quinn. Never again."

Quinn's arms tighten around Beth, and the teenager knows there's far too much history than she's prepared for. She's safe here, hidden against Quinn, and she wishes the world would just calm, just for a little while.

Rachel says a few more things, and then the call ends. Beth feels a warmth at her right side, and Quinn very carefully draws Rachel into a one-armed hug, because she's still holding onto Beth.

The three of them just stand there for a few long minutes before Quinn whispers, "I don't know about you lot but I could use a nap right about now."

Beth lets out a weak giggle, and Rachel chuckles softly.

"Come on," Quinn says. "I haven't met a problem a good nap can't fix."

"Lies," Rachel accuses, but she gets moving, and Beth is out of it just enough not to pay too much attention to the room Quinn leads her too. Rachel pulls back the covers, and then Quinn guides her into it, carefully removing her shoes.

Beth feels a gentle press of lips to her forehead, and then she slips into darkness, welcoming the peace and quiet.

Rachel wants to leave Quinn with Beth, but she just can't get a hold of her own shaking, and so Quinn follows her out of their first guest bedroom, making sure to leave the door open so Beth won't panic if she wakes in this foreign place.

She's shaking.

Trembling, really.

She just talked to Shelby.

God, she just talked to Shelby. That's not something she really prepared for with her therapist. It just wasn't ever in the realm of possibilities, and her breathing hasn't managed to steady since.

As soon as they're out of the room, Quinn draws her into a hug, and Rachel sinks into her wife's warmth. She imagines Quinn is going through her own litany of emotions at this point, but Rachel can't bring herself to talk about it yet.

They just stand there and hold each other for two full minutes, before Rachel shakes herself off and says, "I dumped your groceries."

"Mine?" Quinn scoffs, and, for a few minutes, they can pretend everything is okay, and that they don't have Quinn's teenage runaway daughter sleeping in their guest room. "I'm pretty sure that list was all you, baby."

Rachel sighs into her, and then steps back. "We should probably unpack them, shouldn't we?"

"Is that what you want to do?"

"We should, yeah."

Quinn kisses her forehead. "Okay, yeah, we can do that."

Rachel takes hold of her hand and leads her back to the common area. She's no longer shaking, but her head and heart are aching in ways that are foreign to her. She just needs Quinn close, and Quinn doesn't seem to want to drift too far, either.

They retrieve the groceries together, and Quinn grabs her phone from her bag to check her messages. It's easy to slip into domestic activities. They've lived together for years, and Rachel knows nearly everything there is to know about this woman.

Quinn kisses her temple, and then lets her do her thing. They move together, each one already knowing where everything goes. Rachel likes order in their rooms, and Quinn has obsessive compulsive tendencies when it comes to her kitchen.

It's really Quinn's kitchen.

"What do you want for dinner?" Quinn eventually asks, coming up behind Rachel and wrapping warm arms around her waist, resting her chin on the brunette's shoulder.

"Surprise me," Rachel murmurs.

"I figure you've had enough surprises for one day," Quinn says, absently kissing her neck.

Rachel lets out a snort. "It's been a day, hasn't it?"

Quinn hums, her hands sliding over Rachel's stomach, almost caressing over the fabric of her clothing. "Not what you were expecting for today, huh?"

"Were you?"

Quinn sighs. "I'll admit I've had many, many dreams about Beth just showing up at our doorstep, but I never quite thought it would actually happen."

"Is it a dream come true?"

"I'm terrified," Quinn confesses, quiet and childlike. "What if it really is all a dream?"

Rachel pinches her arm, and Quinn squeaks in surprise.

"Jesus," Quinn says. "Baby, what are you doing?"

"Showing you it's real," Rachel says, a little too innocently.

"Asshole."

Rachel spins in her arms, rises onto her toes and kisses her on the lips. Once, twice, and then says, "How about some soup?"

Quinn nods, kisses her again, and then gets to work. She's relieved to have something to do, and she very casually gets Rachel started on chopping vegetables.

"Vegetable and barley okay?" Quinn asks. "Somebody needs to use those ridiculous grains I lugged all the way from the grocery store."

"That's just downstairs," Rachel quips.

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Remind me again why we don't make better use of our PAs."

"You're too kind and you keep me in check?"

Quinn laughs softly. "Something like that, yeah."

They fall into silence, each of them working quietly. Rachel can practically feel the events of the last few hours settling like a heavy weight on her shoulders. It slows her movements considerably, and her facial expression drops to nothing.

"I love you," Quinn suddenly says, as if she can just feel it, because she's not even looking at Rachel.

Rachel glances over her shoulder at her wife. "I never thought I would ever talk to her again," she says. "In fact, I don't think I ever wanted to again, and I really don't know how to feel about it."

"I think you did well," Quinn says, her voice warm.

"She probably got the shock of her life when I got on the phone," Rachel says, almost amused. "The disbelief in her voice was obvious."

"With Beth gone, having come to me, I'm pretty sure the last thing she expected was to hear your voice, particularly in conjunction with me."

"She'd probably keel over and die if she knew we're actually married."

Quinn steps towards her, kisses her firmly, and then heads back to the stove. "Can you imagine?" she laughs. "I still don't believe it, sometimes. Berry, what were you thinking agreeing to spend the rest of your life with me?"

Rachel smiles at her. "I was thinking that I have loved you for nearly half of my life, and I was probably stuck feeling that way, so I may as well make it official."

"Wow," Quinn says. "What a ringing endorsement."

Rachel abandons her chopping board and closes the space between them, needing to be close to her. "I love you," she says. "Like, I love you in the way that's gross. I mean, I literally want to have your babies, Quinn. I think that pretty much seals it."

Quinn just smiles, her arms winding around Rachel's waist. "You're stuck with me."

"Oh, the horrors."

Quinn kisses her softly. "Are you okay?"

"Not right now," Rachel confesses. "But, I think I will be." She pauses. "After I have some of your soup, of course."

"I should get back to that," she says.

Rachel kisses the corner of her mouth. "You do that."

"Get me those veggies then, Berry."

Rachel just smiles at her, and then moves back to her assigned job. They fall into silence again, coming together at times, and just trying to establish some kind of normalcy when the next few hours and days are going to be anything but.

It's how Beth finds them, nearly fifty minutes later. Rachel is setting the kitchen table while Quinn tastes the soup, checking the seasoning.

Their silence is oddly comforting, and Beth kind of hovers out of sight as she watches them.

"Lara thinks the show has at least another year," Rachel says. "Possibly more."

"How are you feeling about that, by the way?" Quinn asks. "I can't imagine the show going on without you at the helm."

"It'll be weird," Rachel says. "I think I'll steer clear of Broadway for the next two years or something."

Quinn grins at her. "My my, what ever shall you do in that time?"

Rachel laughs. "I'm sure I'll think of something."

Quinn rolls her eyes, and Beth thinks she looks so young like this. Young and untouched and happy, with a twinge of sadness just hovering behind her eyes. Beth thinks she's stunning.

So is Rachel, really. There's something familiar about the brunette in a way that just escapes Beth, but she can't quite focus on that.

"Is it ready?" Rachel asks. "I'm starving."

Quinn hums. "Have you made the toast?"

"Do I have to?"

"I'm not putting bread on the grill, Rachel," Quinn says. "I'm the one who has to do the dishes."

"But, you do it because you love me."

"Not so much right now," Quinn quips. "Make the toast."

"So demanding."

"Make the damn toast."

Rachel sticks out her tongue at her, and Beth can't help her own chuckle, which draws their collective attention. Rachel's smile flickers, and Quinn's features soften.

"Beth," Quinn says, looking a little surprised at the fact she gets to say her name out loud. "Tell Rachel we need toast."

Beth feels a smile spread across her face. "I don't mind doing the dishes," she says.

Rachel laughs as Quinn groans.

"Already ganging up on me, huh?" Quinn says. "I see how it is."

Rachel waves Beth further into the kitchen space. "Did you sleep okay?" she asks. "That bed's not the comfiest, but the other guest room is filled with Quinn's art things she's never got around to unpacking in her office."

"Hush, you," Quinn says over her shoulder.

"We've lived here for almost four years already," Rachel tells Beth. "She hasn't used any of it, but she still won't get rid of it."

"I can still hear you talking about it," Quinn says, and Beth can't help her smile.

Beth moves closer. "So, you've lived together for four years?"

Rachel blinks. "Officially, yes," she says; "but Quinn pretty much moved into my place a few years before that, even if she kept up the pretence she was still living with Santana, even after she and Britt got married."

Quinn groans. "They could have moved," she complains.

Rachel shakes her head, and then says, "Denial is like her forte."

Quinn gasps. "Rachel Berry, how dare you?"

Beth suspects there's an inside joke there, but she's not going to ask. It's really quite lovely to see them together, even though she's still confused as to why her thirty year old biological mother still lives with a roommate.

At least, that's what she thinks they are.

The various pictures she's seen around the place consist of mainly the two of them. There are other people, as well, most of them young and paired up, and Beth can only wonder who they are and what is all means.

She has questions. She wants to know everything.

"Why don't you take a seat?" Rachel offers. "Do you want more juice?"

Beth smiles, almost embarrassed. "Um, can I actually try some of that coconut/rice milk thing you mentioned earlier?"

"Yes, please," Quinn whoops. "You're going to love it," she tells Beth, before turning to Rachel and saying, "Some for me too, please."

Beth takes a seat while Quinn and Rachel move around the kitchen, looking like a well-oiled machine. She's torn between observing in silence and learning more about them. Or just Quinn.

She just wants to know.

And, before her brain can stop her, she asks, "Did you not want me?"

Both women freeze, and Beth regrets her question immediately. She wants to take it back, but her mouth won't comply. It's something she's wondered ever since she found the adoption papers.

She needs to know.

Quinn doesn't say anything as she forces herself to finish up with their bread, and then she dishes three bowls of soup that make Beth's mouth water. She didn't even realise how hungry she was until the bowl is placed in front of her.

It's only once they're seated - Quinn says Grace - and they've managed to eat a considerable amount of food in silence that Quinn addresses Beth's question.

"Of course, I wanted you," she says.

Beth holds her breath.

"You're a smart girl, so you have to know you weren't planned," Quinn says, which is a kind way of calling her a mistake. "It was, well, it was a trying time in my life, which will never be an excuse, but perhaps an explanation." She glances at Rachel, who smiles in reassurance.

Beth wonders how much of it all Rachel was there for.

Quinn clears her throat. "I was fifteen when I found out about you," she says. "I don't know how much Shelby has told you."

"Nothing," Beth immediately says, sounding bitter. "Let's just go with that."

Quinn nods. "Okay, well, I was young, and your biological father, well, he wasn't exactly my boyfriend at the time." She winces, her cheeks flushing. "It was bad, to say the least. I came from a very religious family, and teenage pregnancies are not things to be tolerated."

Rachel's fists clench on the table.

"When my parents found out, they kicked me out, and I went to stay with my boyfriend at the time, whose best friend was actually the father," Quinn says, almost conversationally.

Beth gasps.

"When the truth came out, it was even worse," Quinn says, and she tries to smile at Rachel, but it comes out a little pained.

Rachel says nothing, but her fists tighten that bit more.

"Even if I wanted to keep you, there was no way for me to be able to," Quinn says. "A teenager, still in school, homeless and family-less, I could never do that to you. I would never forgive myself for bringing you into something like that, and I won't and haven't ever regretted trying to give you a better life."

"The day you were born was a very stressful day," Quinn says, smiling a little sadly, as if she can't decide if it's a good or a bad memory. "Thank you for that, by the way."

Beth would smile if she weren't already so emotional.

"Shelby was there," Quinn says. "She was the director of one of our rival show choirs." She glances at Rachel again, as if prompting her to continue.

"I'm the one who informed her you were being born," Rachel says. "We talked about it, I guess, and I remember her mentioning how much she wanted to start a family of her own. She wanted a child to love and cherish, and I suppose she came to the conclusion that she could give that love to you."

Beth almost scoffs.

"Shelby was safe," Quinn says. "We sort of knew her, and she had to be kind." She winces. "I mean, of what I knew of her at the time, of course. It was just more comforting to know you were with someone I'd actually met rather than a complete stranger. Does that make sense?"

Beth nods, just once.

"Afterwards was difficult," Quinn says. "I still don't think I've ever fully recovered from it." She licks her lips. "It was a closed adoption, in the sense that Shelby had no obligation to allow me in your life in any way, but she told me she wouldn't keep me from you once the papers were signed."

Rachel tightens her jaw, and there's definitely a story there.

"I suppose I made the mistake of believing her," Quinn murmurs. "In the beginning, I'll admit that I didn't want to see you."

Beth flinches at that, but Quinn powers on.

"I wasn't ready, I don't think," she says. "It was too hard, and then Shelby moved with you, and things kind of, definitely, fell apart for me."

Rachel makes a sound for the first time, and it's a snort of laughter. "Don't you undersell it," she says. "Beth, she dyed her hair pink and got a Ryan Seacrest tattoo on her ass."

"It was on my lower back," Quinn immediately argues, and then rolls her eyes. "We're not debating this again." She looks at Beth. "The tattoo's gone, by the way."

"She has others now," Rachel says, winking at Beth.

Quinn shakes her head, flushing slightly. "Anyway, in the middle of my crazy, Shelby came back, with you, and she told me I had to get my life back together if I wanted to see you or be any part of your life." Her brow furrows. "Which, wow, that was a total dick move."

"Quinn," Rachel says, a little sharply.

Quinn sighs. "Well, anyway, I don't think I really pulled myself together in the sense she wanted, but I've always been good at pretending."

"You pretended to hate me for years," Rachel says; "there you go underselling yourself again."

Beth's eyebrows rise. "You hated each other?"

"Never," Quinn says. "I was just too emotionally crippled and a downright coward to admit I've been in love with her since forever."

"What?"

Quinn flinches at the volume of Beth's question. She blinks once, twice, and then her eyes widen in realisation. "Oh."

Beth stares between them, her heart beating way too fast as she searches their fingers for non-existent wedding bands.

Quinn looks at Rachel. "You didn't tell her?"

Rachel tries to look innocent. "I was waiting for you."

"Rachel."

"She thought Kurt was my boyfriend," Rachel says. "I'm sorry if I don't know how to segue way into telling her I'm actually married to you."

"You're married?" Beth asks, her voice pitched high.

Quinn gives her look. "Going on four years, yes," she says, her tone steady. "You don't have a problem with that, do you?"

"Of course not," Beth hurries to say. "Just... surprised me, I guess. I thought you were roommates."

"Well, technically - " Rachel starts.

"Rachel."

The brunette blushes, and then clears her throat. "We're married, yes," she confirms. "August twenty-four is our anniversary."

It's just around the corner.

"Why don't you wear wedding rings?" Beth asks, very curious.

They both look down at their hands, as if they're just remembering their rings are missing.

"Oh, we're getting them all polished for our anniversary," Rachel explains. "Weird, isn't it? I completely forgot."

Beth just nods.

"Anyway," Quinn says. "I guess a bad situation just became worse, as far as our whole relationship with Shelby went, and then she left again, and I haven't seen or heard from either of you until today."

Beth really doesn't know what to feel about what she's just been told. She wanted to know things, obviously, but she can't shake the feeling Quinn and Rachel are leaving some pretty big chunks out of the story.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

Beth sits straighter. "Why did you have a falling out, I guess?"

Quinn breathes out. "I suppose you want truths here, so I'm going to be honest with you, okay?"

"It's all I want."

Quinn drops her gaze. "I tried to prove Shelby was a bad mother, so she would be deemed unfit, and you would be returned to me."

Beth's mouth drops open.

Quinn continues. "Puck stopped me, of course, and I had to re-evaluate my entire life, again. Rachel helped, too, like she always has, and I had to take a good hard look at what I was willing to do to make myself feel better, which is never the hallmark of what makes a good mother."

Wow, okay, so not what Beth expected to hear.

"You wanted me?" Beth asks, her voice barely a whisper.

"Selfishly, yes," Quinn says, and she looks slightly embarrassed. "But, I wasn't ready for parenthood at sixteen, and I sure as hell wasn't when I was eighteen, either."

"But, you wanted me," Beth says.

Quinn frowns. "Of course," she says. Then: "Wait, Beth, did Shelby tell you I never wanted you?"

Beth feels tears spring to her eyes, which is just so embarrassing.

"Oh, Sweetheart," Quinn says, and her hand reaches out to cover one of Beth's. "I'm sorry you ever had to believe that. I've never not wanted you. I just - I was never good for you, and I've always wanted better for you. Someone to feed and clothe you; love you and make sure you were happy."

And, the funny thing is that Beth was all those things.

Before her fourteenth birthday, she didn't care about anything but her perfect life. She barely even wondered if there was something missing, because she had no frame of reference to think there even could be.

But, now she has this entire biological mother with all this history, and she no longer has to suffer through that niggling feeling of being unwanted.

Quinn wanted her.

So did Shelby.

Beth is wanted.

"Who's Puck?"

Beth realises, as she says the words, that it's the wrong thing to ask. Quinn's entire demeanour closes off, and Rachel immediately reaches for her, a hand on the back of her neck and another on her forearm.

Beth waits.

Quinn doesn't speak again, and Rachel is the one to say, "Your biological father."

Beth gets that he has to exist, but she's never really given him a lot of thought.

"Noah Puckerman," Rachel clarifies. "There's... a lot of bad blood there."

Beth thinks that might be an understatement, based on Quinn's reaction. She's actually gone pale, and Beth wishes she could take the question back.

Quinn is less talkative after that, just picking at her food, and Rachel asks Beth questions about school and her friends. She answers them as best she can, but she doesn't really want to be talking about herself.

Once dinner is finished, Quinn excuses herself and disappears into what Beth assumes is their bedroom, leaving her with Rachel to do the dishes.

"Sorry," Rachel says quietly, setting their bowls in the left sink. "Maybe she'll tell you the story one day, but I don't think today is that day."

Beth nods. "I didn't mean to upset her."

"She knows," Rachel says; "and you couldn't have known."

Beth licks her lips. "Can you - do you - " she stops, huffs out a breath, but can't seem to figure out how to phrase her question.

Rachel smiles, soft and sympathetic. "As far as I'm aware, he's in the Air Force," she says. "Unmarried, with no children."

"Oh."

"I haven't stayed in touch, for obvious reasons," she says. "But, remember Kurt? Well, his stepbrother is Noah's best friend, and that's where I get all my information."

Beth nods, trying to follow. "His best friend," she says. "As in, Quinn's ex-boyfriend."

And, Beth honestly doesn't expect Rachel to blush as hard as she does. It practically takes over her face.

"What?" Beth asks.

"He's also mine," she says.

It takes a moment, and then Beth actually giggles. "Wow," she says. "There must be a story there."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "There is," she agrees; "but you're far too young to hear it." She pauses. "Though, perhaps it'll help you to learn from our mistakes." She shakes her head. "No, but then, where's the fun in high school without fumbling about like a lost wannabe-adult?"

"That sounds horrible."

"Otherwise synonymous with high school."

Beth actually shudders.

Rachel waves her over. "Come dry these dishes," she says. "If I recall correctly, you said you'd do them."

"I'm a wonderful guest."

"I might even let you pick which movie we're going to watch."

Beth giggles. "Your kindness is astounding."

"So I've been told," she says. "Those words are going on my tombstone, definitely."

Beth just shakes her head, because Rachel is so weird, and she loves it. She's happy and bubbly and self-deprecating, and she has these eyes that shine with love and affection. She's kind of beautiful, really.

"Hey."

Rachel glances over her shoulder where Quinn has appeared, having changed her clothes. She's wearing sweatpants, a Yale sweatshirt, thick socks and a pair of glasses on her face. Her hair is in a messy bun, and she suddenly looks so young.

"I can finish up here if you two want to get into your pyjamas," Quinn says.

Rachel nods, immediately abandoning her task. "Come on, Beth, let's get comfortable before Quinn starts the movie without us."

"I wouldn't," Quinn says.

"You have before," Rachel accuses, and then squeals when Quinn suddenly lunges for her, wrapping an arm around her waist and planting a loud, sloppy kiss on her cheek.

"Gross," Rachel says, voicing Beth's thoughts.

Quinn just squeezes her once, and then releases her. "Go," she says, and then Rachel bounces out of the kitchen. Quinn looks at Beth. "Do you have pyjamas with you?"

Beth nods.

"Would you like a shower, maybe?"

"Do I smell?"

Quinn grins. "I wasn't actually going to say anything, but you have been on a bus for God knows how many hours, so..."

Beth rolls her eyes, but steps towards Quinn, planning on squeezing past her. She barely manages it before Quinn is touching her, a soft hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry about earlier," she says.

"Me too," Beth returns, almost automatically.

"We can talk more later, okay?"

"Okay."

"Shout if you need anything."

Beth nods, and then heads into the living room to retrieve her backpack. It's stuffed with the essentials she'll need, but she still registers relief that Rachel has left a towel for her on the bed she slept in earlier, coupled with a little note to find her if Beth needs anything.

Beth is warmed by it all, and she can't help wondering what it would be like to live here for real. With a sigh, she carefully unpacks what she needs, and then takes everything to the bathroom with her.

The shower is glorious, and she's able to wash off all the grime of public transport. She washes her hair with fancy products and emerges feeling and looking squeaky clean.

She gets dressed in the bathroom, and then goes back to the bedroom to deposit her things. She bites her lip in contemplation before she actually does go looking for Rachel, hearing her singing to herself from behind a slightly-ajar door that must be their bedroom.

Tentatively, Beth knocks on it, and Rachel immediately appears, a wide smile on her face.

"Well, look at you," she says. "Feeling better?"

"Much."

Rachel's smile grows. "Do you want to come in?" she asks, already turning away. "I'm just dealing with this pesky makeup. It's a nightmare to remove sometimes."

"I'm not really allowed to wear makeup, unless it's some kind of special occasion," Beth confesses as she follows.

"Smart choice," Rachel says, as she moves to sit at her vanity. "Once you begin, the pressure really starts."

"High school, huh?"

"The worst."

Beth stands awkwardly, taking in the room. It's tidy but very lived in. The bed is made, clothes put away and there are books and paper booklets on nearly all the furniture. It's a dark room, in the sense that the furniture is dark wood and the duvet set is black and white. The walls are a soft beige, which somehow makes the room heavier, in some way.

Beth catches sight of a few picture frames on the dresser, and she itches to move closer. So, she does. There are four pictures. One is of Quinn and Rachel on what must be their wedding day, both of them in gorgeous white dresses and wearing the biggest smiles imaginable.

The second picture is of the two of them with four other people all their own age. She recognises a few from the other pictures, and she knows she's going to have to ask about them at some point.

The third picture is of Quinn, Rachel and a pair of older men, each flanking the girls and smiling in a way that makes Beth wish she'd been there with them that day, just to experience that happiness they're projecting.

The fourth picture is, well, it's of Quinn. A young Quinn, sweaty and flushed, with a small bundle of baby in her arms.

Oh.

"I wasn't at the hospital when that picture was taken," Rachel suddenly says, looking over Beth's shoulder. "It was the day of our Regionals competition our sophomore year, and I opted to stay to hear the results while nearly everyone else went to the hospital with her."

Beth can't even look away from the picture. "Why?"

"I'm not sure," Rachel admits. "Guilt, maybe. I didn't want to get in the way. A little heartbreak, who knows? It was a very emotional day for us all."

"Did you eventually go, though?"

"After, yes," she says. "I saw you all wrapped up in the nursery. I think I spent an hour just standing there and looking at you through the glass, just so amazed that this tiny human being was made by Quinn. Looking at you right now still baffles me. Life, it's such a funny thing."

"Because babies grow?"

"It goes on, yeah," Rachel murmurs. "I hope you know the decision to let you go has never been easy for her," she says. "It's weighed on her for years, and it's got worse the years she hasn't known where to find you. Keeping living her life and trying to find a purpose and happiness in everyday things isn't easy for her. She's been through a lot, and I used to use you to keep her safe and present."

"Me?"

"I used to ask her what you would think if, one day, you showed up in our lives and saw her; saw what she was doing and how she was living? What would you think of her then?" Rachel hums. "You're very powerful, Beth. You've always been. Please, please be careful with how you use it."

Truthfully, Beth isn't sure how she feels about that particular confession. Objectively, she can see how that must be the case, but it makes her a little uncomfortable.

"Can I ask about how the two of you got together?" Beth asks.

Rachel smiles, a little knowing. "I think Quinn might like to tell you some of that story," she says.

Beth nods, and then asks, "Do you have a hairdryer I could use in the meantime?"

Quinn ends up picking Aladdin. It's the live action version, with Naomi Scott and Will Smith, and Quinn admits to having a bit of a crush on Naomi Scott when she was younger.

"Do crushes just go away when you get married?" Beth asks, being a bit of a little shit.

Quinn rolls her eyes, huffing. "I think they stop being crushes," she says. "Now, I guess I have an appreciation for other women, but the only one I have a crush on goes to sleep in my bed, so I can't quite complain."

Beth turns her body to face Quinn, ignoring the movie playing. They're all on the main couch together, Quinn sitting between Beth and Rachel, and the brunette is tucked into Quinn's side, her focus intent on the television screen.

"You said you weren't always friendly," Beth says, wanting to know more.

Quinn winces. "That's - that's definitely one way to put it." She shifts slightly. "I was a bully, Beth. Like, the worst kind, and I was awful to Rachel for some really long years."

Beth blinks. "Oh."

"There are reasons I've explored in therapy, but they're not important." She turns to press a kiss to the top of Rachel's head, and Rachel just hums in content. "When I fell pregnant with you, things changed. I changed. So, I suppose I have you to thank for reminding me I didn't have to cause pain to distract from my own."

Beth notes yet another allusion to the fact Quinn had a less than ideal childhood.

"We didn't really become friends until senior year," Quinn says. "Even then, it was tentative, but we tried. We were burned by common people, and she's the truest, purest person I've ever known."

Beth can definitely believe that.

"In college, well, I think we both went a little off script," Quinn says, chuckling slightly. "This one thought she had to change to fit in, and she got involved with her TA who was involved with their lecturer, and she was fending off an ex-boyfriend."

Rachel lifts her head. "And this one here got involved with a professor, and figured out she actually likes boobs."

Beth giggles.

Quinn shakes her head. "Like I said: off script." She smiles at Beth. "We visited each other a few times that first year. I was in New Haven and she was here, so it wasn't too far, which was nice. We spent parts of the summer back in Ohio building a friendship we never got the chance to before."

"She came out to me over Thanksgiving our sophomore year," Rachel says. "She was such a basket of nerves, as if I would think anything ill of her."

"It was doubly scary because, with the whole I-like-girls revelation came the very prominent I-like-Rachel one, as well," Quinn explains.

"Which didn't even get revealed until I freaked out about Quinn dating this really horrid girl from her Discussion group," Rachel says.

Quinn rolls her eyes. "She wasn't terrible," she says. "Rachel just blew it way out of proportion, which is kind of how she ended up telling me I deserved someone kind and respectful, who would understand me and treat me the right way and blah blah blah."

Rachel giggles. "It was in our junior year, during Winter Break in Lima, and we were having this ridiculous fight about Steph, and Quinn ended up screaming in my face, 'What? Someone like you?' and I said yes, and we've pretty much been together ever since."

Beth can't hold back her face-splitting grin.

"I moved to New York after graduation," Quinn says. "We didn't want to rush anything, so I moved into a place with Santana, our friend from high school. It was mainly because Santana's then girlfriend, now wife, still had a year left at Harvard before she moved to join her, but it all kind of worked itself out."

"She pretends she lived with Santana, but she really didn't," Rachel says. "I'd been living with Kurt for so long, but he got married and moved into a place with his husband, Blaine, while they both finished off at NYADA."

"NYADA?" Beth asks.

"The performing arts school we all went to," Rachel explains. "Expect for this kid over here. She's an Ivy League brat."

Quinn blushes.

"Still is," Rachel adds a beat later. "Santana started at NYU a year after high school graduation, floating around as she tried to figure out her life, and then went on to become a lawyer at Columbia Law. She's an ADA now."

"ADA?" Beth asks.

"Baby, ease up on all the abbreviations," Quinn says, shaking her head.

Rachel smiles. "Assistant District Attorney," she clarifies for Beth's benefit. "A prosecutor. Very important."

"She likes to think so," Quinn quips.

Rachel laughs softly. "Her wife, Brittany, works at Columbia with Quinn, in the Math Department, and she teaches dance classes in the evening."

"She puts us all to shame," Quinn says, fondly shaking her head.

Rachel nods in agreement. "Kurt performs when the roles are right, but he's more involved in fashion and costume design these days. Blaine is on Broadway permanently, and he's killing it."

"He's almost as good as you are," Quinn says, and receives a kiss to her cheek for her troubles.

Rachel looks at Beth. "We have other friends, obviously, but those four are the most important," she says. "Our little New York family."

Beth takes it all in. "And, they all know I exist?"

Quinn nods. "I think Blaine's the only one who's never actually seen you," she says. "Britt's held you, from my recollection. Santana might have, as well, from her Troubletones days."

Rachel groans.

Quinn rests her cheek on her head for a moment, but she makes no move to explain any of it to Beth. Instead, she continues on about their relationship timeline. "We got engaged about two years after I moved here, another two years to plan the perfect wedding, apparently, and then we moved into this place as soon as the honeymoon was over."

"We wanted to start our new married life in a place that was officially ours," Rachel says. "It was symbolic more than anything."

"It's also smack-damn in the middle of our respective workplaces."

"Baby, Columbia is practically on Broadway."

Quinn laughs. "I chose wisely, didn't I?"

Beth thinks she could listen to them talk for forever, which is really the moment they fall silent. Beth watches them for a few moments, the way they kind of just gaze at each other with all the affection in the world, before she reluctantly returns her attention to the movie.

They watch until the end, Rachel quietly singing along to the songs and Quinn's eyes bright in slight wonder.

Beth never wants to leave.

t.b.c.