All That I'm Asking For

Author: Brittany

Tagline: "All that I'm asking for is that you need nothing more."

Summary: It is Mia's first Christmas and Rachel wants every little detail to be painfully perfect. Future fic.

Pairing: Quinn/Rachel featuring Faberry offspring

Rated: PG-13

Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings and events thereof, are properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

Author's Note: Hiya! A little late Christmas ficlet but better late than never, I always say! I was half way through this fic when I realized that Rachel was Jewish, so, there's probably some minor mistakes involving that, hopefully every one can overlook them and enjoy this story for the fact of just being that. A story. Anyways, I hope every one had a very merry holiday and I now introduce you to the family life of the Fabray-Berry's. :)

Quinn rustles sleepily in their large, empty Queen sized bed, turning over as her hazel eyes slowly begin to drift open from her seemingly short night of dreaming of silly but simplistic things. She rubs her eyes with the back of her fist, grumbling incoherently with a displeasing moan before she stretches, every joint her body popping at the brisk, cold winter air. She is mid stretch when she notices that she is alone in their bed, the opposite side only a half of an attempt of being made, the wrinkling sheets still molded to fit her wife's delicate body. Normally, she would almost panic upon realizing that her wife has somehow magically disappeared from their bed without so much as a sound, except for today.

Because today is Christmas.

Because, Quinn Fabray knows that not even Jesus Christ himself coming back to celebrate his own birth, would stop Rachel Berry's obsessive compulsive disorder to make this the best Christmas in the history of Fabray-Berry holidays.

She yawns as she forces herself from their comfortable bed in which she has grown such a loving, nurturing relationship with over the years and instantly her heart sinks when the warm blankets slide off of her twenty five year old body. Her bare feet meet the cold ice known as hard wood flooring and the shivers ripple up her spine as she grumbles in protest to the movement of her body. Her pajama bottoms of Reindeer hang loosely around her waist, the white v-neck hugging just perfectly to her slender body as she moves across their warmly painted yellow room. Pushing the blinds to the side, she glances outward to their front lawn that is full of winter time decorations such as Frosty, angels and other holiday memorabilia and she can not stop the smile from playing upon her lips when she sees the white substance falling from the sky.

Looks like it is going to be a white Christmas after all. Quinn loves snow. She loves the way that with a little bit of snow, magic will fill the air and add even more excitement to the holidays. She loves driving down their neighborhood to find disproportionate snowmen greeting her in every driveway, she loves the smell of hot cocoa that dances through their two story home. She loves the clothes, the gloves, the coats, the scarves, the way that she can see her breath when she steps outside. There is, however, one thing that Quinn absolutely hates about the snow.

The way that Rachel is going to freak out when she sees it. The way that she is going to rant and rave about how dangerous the roads are and how her fathers, whom mind you have been planning this exact dinner since May, will be too afraid to drive forty five minutes to visit them. The way that she will fret and worry and almost be on the verge of tears until their Nissan car pulls into their drive way and they are standing on their doorway.

She smiles, shutting the blinds as she twists her fingers through her golden mane, a Christmas tune humming in a rumble in the back of her throat. She bounces down their winding stairwell, a little extra skip in her step this morning, feeling the magic of Christmas pulsing through her veins. She loves this time of the year, the way that it makes her a little kid inside, even if Rachel secretly is annoyed by the fact.

The smell of a roast hits her almost immediately as she enters the living room and her stomach flips in excitement. If there is one thing she loves most about the holidays, it is neither the presents nor the classics that always are on every channel, it is the way their entire family fits together around a table and eats delicious, calorie loaded food and no one seems to care.

She finds herself watching as her wife moves busily in the kitchen, singing quietly under her breath a song that she can not quite name the title of. Her hair is in a tight mess, the brunette curls falling aimlessly down her shoulders, framing her delicate face just perfectly. She notices that she is wearing her clothes and she smiles at how they nearly fall of her; she is perfect in every way possible.

Rachel Berry always has been and always will be the star of Quinn's life.

"Someone was super sneaky this morning," Quinn states,leaning against their white door frame. Rachel jumps, startled by her wife's presence and mumbles a curse under her breath that Quinn knows she isn't meant to hear. The shorter brunette turns to face her, lines of exhaustion written upon her face and for a moment, Quinn's heart melts. She hates to see her like this, all worked up and worn out; but she wants this Christmas to be perfect, no matter what the costs or causalities may be. Perhaps, a little, too perfect.

"Unlike you, some of us had to get an early start or else the entire dinner would have been late. Putting both my dads and us behind our Christmas schedule. Some of us can not stay in bed all day and still expect everything to be done correctly and proficiently when the time arrives," Rachel snaps in a huff and Quinn only smiles with a quiet laugh. If there is one thing she loves most about Rachel, it is her need for perfection.

"Come on, Rach. It's Christmas. Our first Christmas as a family," Quinn sighs as she enters the kitchen, lacing her arms around her petite waist, burying her face in the crook of her neck where she places a delicate, discreet kiss. Rachel sighs at the notion, dropping the cooking utensil back onto the table as she runs her fingers up Quinn's arms, shivering at the contact of skin upon skin.

"Exactly. That's why this dinner has to be perfect!" Rachel wails, turning around her wife's arms as her auburn eyes stare passionately into the most lovely pair of hazel. Sometimes, she wonders how it happened. How the head cheerleader of the Cheerios, whose mission in high school was to make her life a living hell, is the person that she stood in front of friends and family and promised to spend the rest of her life with.

"As long as you and our daughter are going to be there, it's already perfect," Quinn responds with a small smile, reaching forward as she brushes one of Rachel's stray brunette curls away from her face. Gently, her thumb brushes over her ivory skin, the passionate fire catching within both of the women and sending a riptide of shivers up their spine. Biting her bottom lip in protest, Rachel lets out a heavy sigh, shaking her head.

"Now is certainly not the time for charms. No, no. My dads are going to coming in less than an hour and I am in the least bit prepared. I am in the process of cooking a roast that probably weighs more that you and I combined because apparently that is what people eat on this holiday and I am not sure that I am even doing it correctly. I have yet to place the presents accordingly under the tree nor have I decided which dress I am going to wear nor have I even attempted to dress Mia. She is sitting in her play pin in a onesie right now because I am struggling to make this the best dinner ever. Because w e are going to remember this moment for the rest of our lives. The rest of our lives, Quinn!" Rachel exclaims in a snap, twisting her fingers in her curls, tugging just slightly as she lets out a shaky breath of despair. Quinn only smiles dotingly at the beautiful mess bestowed in front of her, wondering what any one could see in any one else except her.

"This dinner doesn't have to be about tradition. You and Mia and I... Hiram and Leroy.. we are not exactly a traditional family. Your Dads won't care if their presents are not wrapped with the precise paper that is color coded to the gifts they are receiving, they will not care if the roast is a little burned or if we even have roast at all. You do not have to be dressed in the finest cocktail dress and Mia doesn't have to be in something frilly and cute for them to love her or you or us for that matter. This is going to be a holiday worth remembering but not because of what you cooked or what you bought, but for me, it is going to be worth remembering because you are here and you already gave me the greatest gift of all. You gave me our daughter," Quinn explains and Rachel's eyes fill with watery tears, almost at the point of breaking before she scoffs in annoyance.

"I knew you would do this. I knew it. You know, I'm Jewish. Which means, growing up, I didn't exactly count down the days till a fat man came down my chimney, I didn't listen for the sound of little hooves on my rooftop or eat a clearly calorie loaded roast for dinner. Personally, I do not see the thrill in all of this but the point is, I am doing this for you. I am doing this for Mia. And you do not even take me seriously! You do not appreciate this!" Rachel huffs, rolling her eyes as she grumbles a curse that is just low enough to miss Quinn's ears. She pulls herself out of her arms and returns to cutting the carrots that lay idly upon the white cutting board.

Quinn hates arguments like this. Arguments about religion or tradition or celebrations for that matter. She hates these arguments because she knows that she can never win them. Not when Rachel pulls out all the stops, the Jewish thing and the 'You don't appreciate me' card.

Especially when she is making that face, like right now. The face that resembles that of a puppy after you swat it on the nose with a newspaper.

Sighing in frustration, Quinn steps toward her wife, wrapping her arms around her waist as she pulls her tiny petite body into hers, burying her face in the crook of her neck. Rachel shivers at the sensation of Quinn's delicate lips against her skin as she places a tender, chaste kiss upon the heated area.

"You're right. You don't have to do this for me or for Mia but you are. You're busting your cute little ass to make sure that we have some sort of holiday tradition and I am not even taking you seriously. Although, I really can't help it because you look so damn sexy in my clothes that the only thing that I can think of is taking you to bed," Quinn allows a throaty laugh to escape her as she places another strategical kiss upon Rachel's pulse point, listening as the brunette lets out a shaky breath, "so, thank you. Thank you for being the most perfect wife." Rachel nods, slicing another piece of the carrot, fighting the smile on her face.

"You are welcome. Now, could you please get Mia ready for my dads? She needs a bath and I have already laid out her outfit on the dresser, you just need to put her in it. Also, if you could run a brush through those curls, I am sure that it would not be a total loss. She has to be looking her best so that my dads can coo over her, over how beautiful she is and how much she resembles both you and I," Rachel says and Quinn laughs with a smile, her hands moving southward down her wife's flawless body, breathing in the moment of their love.

"Leroy and Hiram are silly. She doesn't look like both of us," Quinn states and Rachel agrees.

"I think my dads are just afraid of being offensive so they tend to ignore the obvious dominant features in our daughter and just brush it off as resembling both of us. Even though only one of us conceived her with the assistance of a sperm donor," Rachel replies. Quinn laughs with a nod, turning the brunette around in her arms as she places a loving kiss upon her lips; a kiss that nearly brings both of them to their knees, even after all this time.

"Or maybe, Berry.. maybe we are just that good," teases Quinn and Rachel laughs, tossing a sliced carrot at the blond. Quinn dodges the carrot, instead she grabs Rachel's waist, pushing her against the counter top as her taller body hovers above her own, her lips dangerously close to hers as her warm breath dances across her face. Rachel whimpers, her eyes staring heavily into Quinn's before the blond smiles with a wink, stepping away from the brunette and disappearing behind the door after their daughter, leaving Rachel struggling to breathe.

One bath. A bottle of bubbles. Two diaper changes and many tears later, Quinn has somehow managed to successfully bathe and dress six month old Mia Fabray in the baby Santa outfit that Rachel just had to buy that day. The red outfit is lined with white velvet on the cuffs of the arms and the cuffs of the legs, with a hat that now attempts to hide Mia's brunette curls and socks with miniature candy canes upon them. Her chubby little face is lit with a warm, glowing pink as she sits in Hiram's lap, her glistening auburn eyes darting around the room, enjoying the attention that is suddenly being placed upon her. It had been a hassle, Quinn sighs as she sits across the room from her daughter, plenty of times she had been very much reminded that she is the off spring of Rachel Berry, but looking at her now, she knows it was worth almost nearly selling her soul to the devil for.

Glancing to her left, she studies her beautiful wife whom is sitting on the sofa beside of her in her lovely vibrant red cocktail dress which she had purchased from Victoria's secret. The fabric hugs her curves in all the right places with a low cut, revealing the top of her firmly shaped breasts. Her tan skin glistens under the light as she laughs at an old family story Leroy has told and Quinn swallows hard, licking her lips, curious as to if she will be able to keep her hands off of her for the rest of the night. Rachel catches her wife's studying gaze with a flickering smile as the blush curls within her cheeks and she giggles lowly, only just enough to send Quinn's gears into overdrive.

"Quinn, I must applaud you. You have created a lovely home with our daughter and I have to say, you have given us the most beautiful granddaughter," Leroy smiles at the blond as he tickles Mia's feet. The infant scolds her Granddad, her brow wrinkled together in annoyance as the older man laughs, reaching for his granddaughter. Mia studies his action for a moment, her eyes darting to her Mommy and Mama whom only smile at her before she caves and reaches for him, switching laps from her Grandpa to her Granddad.

"Don't thank me, sir. It was all Rachel," Quinn exclaims, placing a hand upon her knee where she pats softly. Rachel smiles at her, watching as their daughter interacts with her Granddad, patting his cheek a little roughly as he asks her mindless questions to which she only gurgles a coo in response of.

"Yeah, but you were the one who held my hair back when I was throwing up and you were the one who told me that I was beautiful every single day, even when I couldn't see my feet anymore. You were the one who gave me back massages, even though you were clearly exhausted from work. And you were the one who stood there, holding my hand and continuing to tell me that you loved me, even though I was less than pleasant. There is a lot of you in Mia, as well, my lady," Rachel replies. Mia Ava Fabray came lovingly into their lives July 9h, weighing six pounds and seven ounces. Never in her life, did Rachel Berry think it was possible to love someone so much as she did the second they laid their daughter in her arms, the second that she looked up at her under those curly eyelashes like she had all the answers in the world.

"Nevertheless, she is perfect," Hiram coos.

"Just like her Mommy," Quinn states, sending a smile in Rachel's direction as the brunette giggles, nearly melting at the notion. The moment, however, is cut short when the sound of the smoker detector goes off, the blaring beeping sound echoing throughout the home. Mia winces, tears pricking her eyes as all of the adults share a confusing gaze with one another, before Rachel gasps, her mouth dropping open in a popping sound.

"The roast!" Rachel gasps before she makes a mad dash out of the living area and toward the kitchen., muffled curses falling from her lips every step of the way. Quinn watches her with a quiet, shaking her head slightly from side to side as the falling blond locks frame her face. She is brought from her thoughts, however, by Mia's wailing of a cry as Leroy struggles to sooth the child.

"Q-Quinn, could you... um... could you just.." Leroy struggles to ask as he rocks the small infant back and forth in his lap. She smiles at him as she stands, reaching for the crying baby; to which he gratefully obliges as he places her in Quinn's arms.

"I'll be right back," Quinn sighs, forcing a smile and a wink in their general direction and her father-in-law's only nod their head, returning the same genuine smile to their daughter's wife. Bouncing Mia in her arms, Quinn softly tries to lull the wailing child, brushing her fingers through her brunette curls but Mia, not surprisingly, is having none of it. Groaning inwardly, she hates that this is one of the ways that Mia reminds her just how much she is like Rachel, the same diva, attention demanding characteristics.

Humming quietly in the back of her throat, Quinn pushes open the kitchen door to find Rachel staring blankly at a crispy black burned roast, the same tears prickling in her eyes as in Mia's. Oh no, she sighs, she can barely handle one crying girl, let alone two.

"I burned the roast. The roast. The main course of our dinner and I burned it! I prepared the potatoes, the stuffing, the carrots, the peas, the rolls, even made sure the pie stayed chilled. Everything was precise, according to O magazine, it even looked like the picture. And then, I forget about the roast. How could I forget about the roast? Now, the entire dinner is ruined!" Rachel wails, throwing the oven mittens down upon the counter top in a drastic sigh. Quinn nods her head understandingly, shifting Mia from one arm to the other, trying desperately to calm her down but it is to no avail as the child continues to cry.

"I'm sure it's okay, it's just..."

"It's just what, Quinn? Hmm? Tell me, who likes their roast burned black charcoal and I will gladly let them have dinner with me! That is right, no one likes their roast burned! It ruined it! The dinner! This Christmas! It's all just ruined!" Rachel cries, hiding her face in her hands as the tears soak down her face. Rolling her eyes inwardly, Quinn approaches her weeping wife, holding her arms out as she places the sobbing infant in them.

"And you're handing me a baby... I ruined our dinner and you are giving me Mia?" barks Rachel.

"None of us can get her to stop crying. None. Your dads, they panicked. Which is not unusual for Leroy and Hiram because they can't stand the sight of tears. I tried rocking her and petting her but she is having none of it. Now, I don't so much care that you burned our dinner or whatever else it is that makes this day 'ruined', what I care about is the fact that our daughter is crying and no one can seem to please her. That is, no one except for you. You are the only one who can get her to calm down. So, could you just.. could you please?" Quinn begs, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. Rachel huffs in annoyance before she runs her fingers through Mia's curls, slowly dancing with her in the kitchen as she begins to sing to her.

"Silent night, holy night. All is calm, all is bright. Round your Virgin Mother and Child, Holy Infant so tender and mild. Sleep in heavenly peace, sleep in heavenly peace," Rachel serenades, softly and slowly dancing the infant around in their kitchen, holding her tight in her arms. Mia stares into her Mommy's eyes, the tears ceasing to exist within her small, brown eyes.

"Silent night, holy night. Son of God, love's pure light. Radiant beams from Thy holy face. With dawn of redeeming grace. Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth. Jesus, Lord, at Thy Birth," It is Quinn now, whom sings warmingly to the small child. Mia's eyelids begin to droop, threatening to close, but she fights the sleep, just like always and clings to the fabric of Rachel's shirt.

"Silent night, holy night. Shepherds quake at the sight, Glories stream from heaven afar, Heavenly hosts sing Alleluia! Christ, the Savior is born. Christ, the Savior is born," Rachel hums, softly brushing Mia's chubby cheek whom has finally given into the sleep and is resting her head upon Rachel's chest. Quinn sighs happily at the sight, slowly draping her arms around Rachel's waist as she pulls her into her.

"Don't you see? It's not about the dinner. It's not about roast or tradition or having our presents appropriately wrapped and placed under the tree. It's not about any of those things. This right here? This. You and Mia... that's perfect to me. As long as I have you two, nothing else matters to me. Not even if you threw all of our food out and made me eat Tofurky for the rest of my life and you know how much I hate that stuff. You and Mia? You're all I need,"Quinn smiles, her fingertips against Rachel's face and the brunette sighs happily, resting her face in the cup of Quinn's small hand.

"Quinn, I..."

"Shh," Quinn places her lips against Rachel's and for a moment, the world seems to fall away around them. For a moment it is as if nothing else seems to matter. Softly, she brushes Mia's curls with her fingers, listening as the infant breathes softly in her sleep before she places another soft kiss upon the crown of her head.

"Best Christmas ever," The blond whispers, stealing another kiss from her beautiful wife.

Reviews are the best present. :)