This chapter is for YOU GUYS, FABERRY FANDOM! It was always meant as one last thank you for pulling through this story.

XO Dylan

A Year Later

Can we do this again sometime?

"Hey Bee?"


"It's your birthday."

"I know it's my birthday. I'm me."

"I have surprises for you today."

"Better than the surprise you gave me my seventeenth birthday?"

"Mmm, that was a good day, good yard… good tree."



"Is it better than that?"

"Is what?"


"Sorry, imagining myself between your legs."

"…I don't remember what we were talking about."

"Me neither."

"Come here."

"Short Sta-"

"Don't stop."

"I- I can't breathe."

"You're speaking; it means you're breathing."

"But- but-"

"Don't ever stop."

"I- I can't breathe."

"You're speaking; it means you're breathing."

"Stop repeating yourself."

"Then you stop repeating yourself."

"But- but- I can't-"

"Don't stop."

"You kill me."

"Then die with me."

"Rachel, seriously."

"Quinn, seriously. Turn around and bend over."

"I can't feel my legs."

"You're standing; you can feel your legs."

"I'm like Bambi right now, you don't understand."

"Hold the wall."

"I want to hold you."

"I'm too wobbly."

"Shit, we can't both be Bambi. We'll break another- Oh, god!"


"Yea- yea- oh, god. More fingers."

"Shhh, Bambi."


"Let me work it."

"Oh, you work it. Work it just like that."

"Let me do it."

"You're doing it."

"Mmm, I know I am."





"Bee? Did I kill you?"


Rachel rolled herself off the blonde, propped onto her elbow and smiled at the dead face to her right. Twenty-seven year old Quinn couldn't hack marathon sex anymore. She just couldn't. Poor girl: her jaw cracked open, face hung like it'd been beaten of energy, and her eyes sat half-lidded.


"I can't feel my ear lobes."

Rachel collapsed to the bed in a fit of giggles.

"Bee, you can't feel your earlobes normally."


"Like, you can't feel them unless you pinch them."

"Well I can't feel them."

"You're not listening to me."

"Whose fault is that?" Quinn groaned, craned herself to the side so she could flop all the way over to her stomach and then smashed head first into the bed. Rachel shook with chuckles.

"Mine, I suppose."

"Mhm," she grumbled into the mattress, bare ass shining in the sunlight that burst through the wall window. Rachel grinned, raking her eyes over her absolutely stunning wife, and then leaned forward to smack a kiss on the right cheek.

"Don't kiss my ass."

"Oh nooo… can we get a pen, please? I need to write this quote down and let you sign it. Quinn Fabray-Berry requests Rachel Fabray-Berry never to kiss her ass. It's just too good. It will be my weapon of mass destruction from here on out."

"Oh, shut up," she husked through a laugh.

"I have another surprise."

Quinn threw herself off the bed and crab crawled backwards to the window. She landed with a squeak, sweaty skin sliding over the glass, and glared at Rachel.

"My body can't take anymore of your surprises."

"You did not just lunge yourself out of our bed!"

"I did. Seriously, I hurt. I hurt so, so good, but I do hurt," Quinn laughed.

"But it's your birthday!"

"And if you keep fucking me like you are, we're going to run out of things to do to each other for the rest of our lives!"

"Oh, please. There are plenty of sexual positions and acts that we can perform. We can even get the-"


"Kama sutra."


"Whaaaat? It's perfectly natural!"

"No more sex," Quinn demanded and darted her eyes to the clock on their bedside table. "Oh, my god! It's only three in the afternoon!"

"We started early," Rachel winked.

"Yeah, you woke me up and then stuck your tongue between my legs."

"What? I felt like being seventeen again."

"That was ten years ago; we do not have seventeen year old bodies."

"I have a seventeen year old mind," Rachel grinned and skipped off the bed, prancing over to Quinn. The blonde shuddered as she got closer and Rachel plopped onto the floor between her clenched legs.

Clenched shut, that is.

Rachel cocked an eyebrow up and eyed them.

And then she reached her pointer fingers out and ran them down each kneecap, shin and around her ankles.


"Mhm," she murmured and circled around to slide up the back of her calves, over her kneecaps and down the sides of her thighs. Quinn's eyes fluttered shut and Rachel watched goose bumps light the wake behind her fingers. She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and brought her eyes back up to those anchors that set sail a year ago.

There was an ocean of emotion there now and Rachel loved swimming in it. Everything she did, touched, and said caused a different jolt of color or heat or jerk. She controlled them, for once; she was the anchor.

"Do you want your surprise?" she drawled, leaning down to press a kiss to Quinn's bare knee, one on the left and then one on the right.

"I'm scared of it," Quinn quivered.

"Don't be scared of me."

The blonde grinned.

And not just any grin, she beamed like sunshine and Rachel jolted back.

"What are you smiling at?"

"Oh, nothing," she sing-songed and that twinkle in her eye danced through the air and sparked Rachel's heart. God, she couldn't love her enough.

"Speak, woman."

"You said that to me before."


"You told me not to be scared of you when we first said, 'I love you.' In my driveway, you remember?" Quinn snickered.

Rachel thought back.

"I wore the Chinchillin' shirt you thought was so cute."

"My sleep shirt!"


"Yeah, I remember! You got nervous that I read your third note. And then I called you on it."

"And then you told me not be scared of you because you weren't going to hurt me. You weren't going to leave me. You would never judge me. And you would always, always be by my side."

"I'm kind of romantic like that."

"You realize you kept your promise?"

"Huh?" Rachel smiled.

"You kept that promise."

Rachel thought back over their relationship, finger tapping her chin and eyes dramatically staring off into… into… the file cabinet? Quinn didn't know.

"I broke up with you in college. And I said horrible things at my wedding."

"Which wedding?" Quinn smirked.

"The wrong one."

"Yeah, but you were fighting me because I hurt you. You kept your promise, Rach," she grinned. "And I love you so much for it."

Quinn shook her head lightly with a humble smile. She couldn't believe how lucky she was. She couldn't. Rachel was… Rachel was… perfect. Quinn put her through the ringer, life put her through the ringer and yet she just kept clawing, even to the very end.

"I love you so much for it."

"It was easy," Rachel sighed. "It was easy because it was you."

Their eyes met and the moment simmered between them. Was it normal to find love like they did? Quinn wondered that. She wondered on a daily basis if people woke up next to their own Rachel Fabray-Berry. She wondered if people woke up to a grinning piece of sunshine next to them. She wondered if they woke up to a generous, curious and delving tongue.

Or did she somehow, miraculously, get lucky after everything she did?

"Baby, what are you thinking?"

"Do you regret anything that happened with us?" Quinn murmured.

Rachel's shoulders slumped under the question and her eyes frowned.

"Why you asking me that?"

"I was just thinking how amazing you are to wake up to, like every day I wake up and you're beaming. You're bouncing out of bed. You're singing in the shower. You're kissing me. You're dancing. You're… you know," she smirked and Rachel's finger took flight again. "And I just wonder if other people out there, if they have a Rachel or if I somehow- I don't know- like-"

"Like what?"

"Like you were brought for me."


"By god or heaven or something."

"Also, angels. They brought me."

"I just feel really, really," she stuttered, trying to find the right freaking word and it just wasn't out there.

"Really what?"

"I can't find the right word."

"Try," Rachel whispered and slid closer, her finger hitting kneecap and falling back down to shin.

"I said a prayer for you in New York on our first visit. That first night when I lay in bed and you weren't home."

"What did you pray for?"

"For you to love me like I love you. For our love to be enough. For us to be rare. For us to make it," she smiled.

"He listened."

"He did," Quinn giggled with a nod. "He definitely did."

"Because I love you more than anything."

"I know."

"And yet I still have one last surprise for you," she smirked, finger trailing over a kneecap and down her inner thigh. Quinn pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and shook her head.

"I'm serious, I'm like… chafing."

Rachel groaned.

"Don't say chafing when referring to our sex life ever again."

"Don't make me chaff then!"

"Oh my god, you complainer, come here," Rachel growled, stood and pulled her to her feet. "Come with me. I won't make you chaff," she said. And then under her breath: "Much."

Sweatpants adorned and topless Rachel dragged her into their living, hauled her to the couch and sat her down. The soft material felt like heaven under Quinn's bare body.

Rachel watched the ceiling fan send flutters of air directly over her, triggering a nice little effect over Quinn's breasts.

She licked her lips and halted.

Mm, they were beautiful.

Focus, Rachel. Focus!

"Can I have a blanket?" Quinn shivered.

"Sure, Bee," she smiled, grabbed the throw and tossed it to her.

"You don't want a shirt?"


"Oh. Okay. So what's the surprise?" she murmured, snuggled the blanket up to her chin and watched topless Rachel Fabray-Berry wonder into the kitchen, disappear behind the tall bar- she snickered at the Short Stack- and then reappear with a tray of things.

She walked it into the open living room full of black and white photos of their friends and family- their Team Faberry- and placed it on the coffee table to Quinn's right. And then, she sat down on her knees at Quinn's feet.

"Rach, whatcha doing?"

"Well, I have a few things I wanted to talk about. And then I will give you your surprise," she said, turning to wink at Quinn before blissfully turning back to her tray.

"Go ahead… crazy."

"Shut it."


"Okay," she started. "When you asked me to marry you, I had already said yes like years before, but that's besides the point."

"No, you almost got married to another girl years before," Quinn laughed and Rachel shot her a glare. "What? I thought we could joke about it."

"Not at my expense. It was stressful!"

"I know! Two women! Rachel Berry!"

"Stop! You're ruining this."

"Sorry. G'head," Quinn laughed.

Rachel reached over to the tray and grabbed a bag of popcorn before turning back to Quinn.

"First, this is very important," she said, face falling serious. "I need you to teach me how to make popcorn. I can't do without you and I don't like that. It makes me feel insufficient and like, like you wear the pants or something. And if when we're old and, heaven forbid, you leave me first, every time I want to make popcorn I will break down and cry. So let's remedy that."

Quinn grinned.

"Okay, baby. I can teach you how to make popcorn."

"Thank you," she sighed dramatically, as if she'd just lifted a huge weight off her shoulders. She turned back to her tray and smiled… and then did nothing.

"Rach, but what's with the rest of the tray?"

"They're just snacks," she said. "Why?"

"I'm- oh- but-"


"Was that your surprise?"

"God no! I just was making us snacks and was going to burn the popcorn and so I realized I should ask you to teach me," she laughed. "What did you think I was about to do?"

"I had no idea," Quinn laughed.

Rachel smacked her knee, but yet did nothing.

"Rach, is the surprise showing up or appearing out of thin air or?"

"No," Rachel crooned, eyes darting to the clock. She had to spare two more minutes, dammit.


Rachel smiled.

And Quinn smiled back.

And Rachel looked to her nails.

And Quinn rolled her eyes.

And then Rachel picked up the popcorn.

And then Quinn groaned.


"What? What?"

"What in the hell is going on?"

Rachel looked at the clock and watched it click over to 4:03pm.

And then she lit up, spun back to Quinn and sat up on her knees, hands falling to Quinn's legs and eyes beaming.

"You're frightening me, like Daddy used to."

"Daddy was never mean to you."

"Oh! Oh no!" Quinn gasped. "Oh how the glasses go rose colored after death! You are crazy! He was-"

"Shut up!"

Quinn shot back into the couch and froze.


"Good girl," Rachel smirked. "Now. I made a promise to you when we were kids."

"We just went over this. You kept it."

"No, no. Diff promise," she smiled.
Quinn narrowed her eyes, her head mulling over their past and she came up blank, completely blank.

"Give me your hands."

"They're cold."

"Give them."

Quinn huffed, pulled her arms free of the blanket and dropped them to Rachel's. And Rachel, Rachel got distracted. Her eyes fell to Quinn's breasts and her mouth lulled open.



She snapped back up, slid between Quinn's knees with a smirk and clenched her hands tight around the blonde's. And then, then the nerves hit her. She spent nearly every waking hour on the stage, but this was making her nervous. God, why was this making her nervous?


"Sorry, I'm a little, little nervous."

Quinn grinned because shit, Rachel nervous was the cutest thing ever.

"Baby, it's okay. Just say or do or transform into whatever you're about to say or do or transform into. Serial killer."



"Okay! Okay. Okay," she mumbled, shook out her hands and grabbed Quinn's back again. And then, her heart stilled and her anchor eyes found Quinn's. "I'm an Emmy award winning actress, a Tony award winning Broadway star, and soon-to-be Oscar and Grammy winner. Someday. I hope. Really hope."

"Is the surprise that I'm married to a celebrity? Because I knew that."


"Is the surprise that you know how to toot your own horn?"



"And you, you pain in the ass, you own a booksto- shop. You own a book shop. You have a list full of bestselling authors. Your name across the binding of a book means something. Your shop is visited daily. You're sought after."

"This is all correct."

"I would say your career has flourished," she smiled.

"This is correct."

Rachel sighed, Quinn just not quite getting it.

"And when I was seventeen, I think, on New Year's Eve, I made a promise to you. I was drunk, for the very first time ever, but I made a promise."

Quinn smiled, the surprise making it to her head and lighting her up.

"And since I apparently keep all my promises, I'm keeping this one."

"You are not," Quinn grinned, flabbergasted.

"I am."

"We're already married."

"I don't care. I used to steal things from you and lately, you just get all the big things. You got to stop a wedding. You got to punch a girl. You got to sleep with a bride the night before her wedding. You got to bust into a ballroom and scream don't do it. And then you got to propose and so now, now it's my turn… to propose to you."

Quinn knew.

"Because I'm twenty seven and our careers have flourished."

"Because you're twenty seven and our careers have flourished," she smiled, nodding with sweetness.

"I love you."

"I love you, too. But let me do this."

"Okay," she giggled and settled back into the couch.

Rachel reached forward, gripped the blanket and slowly, ever so slowly, pulled it down Quinn and let it flutter to the floor.

"What are you doing?"

"Whatever I want."


"I'm on my knees in front of you, proposing, and I want you naked."

"That's not really fa-"

Her mouth snapped shut as Rachel's lips hit her right knee.


"I knew a girl once who said fair wasn't in an adult's vocabulary," she murmured, flattening her tongue and licking her way up Quinn's thigh.

Her eyes rolled back, her head hit the couch and her insides burned yet again… for like the eightieth time that day. Oh, but god, she didn't care. She didn't care at all. Tonight, she was seventeen.

She slumped down the couch and let her legs fall apart.

She felt the grin against her thigh. She felt it good.

"I'm only conceding because you're proposing, even though I've yet to hear a word."

"Maybe I'm not using my words. Maybe I'm tired of being chatty. Maybe, I've learned how to make love to my wife."

Quinn's eyes rolled back and shivers shot through her. Rachel hooked her fingers under her knees and pulled, dragging Quinn all the way to edge of the couch and then, then, god then she crawled forward, kissed her way up the left leg, skipped the spot Quinn wanted her the most, and planted kisses over her hips, abs, chest, breasts and then connected their lips.

She should be required to take that path every time she wanted a kiss. Every single fucking time she wanted a kiss, she should have to take that. God, she should. She groaned and wrapped her arms around Rachel's dainty neck and breathed a hot flash of air into her mouth as their lips pulled and pushed against each other.

Her body was on fire. And her legs kept spreading against her- well, not against her will, but not in her control either. She was falling completely open and surrendering to this girl for the umpteenth time and it felt delicious.

Rachel gave her every emotion under the sun with those lips. She nibbled on her to flirt. She ran her tongue seductively, and god with such raunchy moans, over Quinn's to display her level of un-fucking-believable want. And then she flipped the coin and peppered pecks over her chin, puckered lips and teeth just to show her happiness. She showed Quinn everything.

And the blonde slowly felt herself falling apart underneath her.

Her heart battled its natural beat and tried to kill her.

All she could do was breathe and hope Rachel parted for air sooner rather than later, but it was always later rather than sooner because she could never get enough. It was never enough just to kiss Quinn. She wanted to be inside, she wanted it engrained in her memory, and she wanted the blonde squirming and tossing and aching for her touch.

So she kissed her. She kissed her like the fifteen year old Rachel Berry wanted to be able to kiss her. She snaked her hand around her neck, gripped her tight and drove her lips over Quinn's, controlling every motion, movement, feeling, gasp, and moan.

She was hers, fully.

And Rachel didn't plan to stop there.

Because, you see, the day before Rachel had realized Quinn was the one who took a lot of risks in their relationship. She put her happiness at stake and she went for things. She fluttered off to Madrid. She opened up a shop. She kissed Rachel first. She broke Rachel's wedding up. She asked Rachel to marry her. She, she convinced Rachel to hand over her virginity even after Rachel begged for hers for months.

She did most everything.

And for Quinn's birthday, Rachel decided she would take it all back.

She would be in control. She would manhandle Quinn.

She would take Quinn exactly how she wanted her.

And how Rachel wanted her was on the couch, spread beneath her, and with Rachel inside, deep inside.

So she kissed Quinn. And she took her breath away. And she took her focus away. And she took her concentration away.

Because she needed it gone.

And as Quinn fell apart beneath her, spreading her legs unconsciously and beautifully, Rachel slipped a hand down to her sweats, dropped the front of them six inches, grabbed it in her hand and lined it up against Quinn.

And that was when the blonde froze.

Rachel waited; hovering above her, eyes too close to see, she hovered and she waited. She waited seconds and seconds more.

And then she placed a kiss on the side of Quinn's forehead.

And she waited more.

She waited for however long it took.

It took ninety seconds.

Quinn's breathing steadied, her heart relaxed, and her hands snaked down to Rachel's hips to grip her tight.

"Okay," she murmured. "Okay."

"You sure?" Rachel whispered, kissed her head again and waited. She'd never done this to her and it was something she always wanted. She knew Quinn wanted it, too. But some reason, she was always the one to wear it. This time, Rachel wanted it. She wanted the control. She wanted to watch Quinn's face contort. She wanted the power.

She wanted inside her.

"Yeah," breathed out of Quinn's mouth in the slowest, sultriest way ever, like it was falling free and painting Rachel with sweat.

"Anyone ever tell you that you're sexy?" Rachel panted and dragged it up Quinn's slit.

"Ugh, god. Yes."


"All the girls I date on the side."

"Mm, lucky girls," she grinned and pushed an inch into Quinn. The blonde's hips canted forward and Rachel blushed. Yeah, she wanted her.

"Not as lucky- lucky as you," Quinn gasped.

"How you figure?" she asked and pushed in further. Noises ripped into her ear and instantly, she soaked through her sweats. It should be illegal to make love to a woman as beautiful as Quinn Fabray- Berry.

God, it should be illegal.

She pushed in deeper and the blonde ripped another groan free.

"All the way and I'll tell you," she choked.

Rachel smiled into her neck and rocked her hips all the way forward, pushing far into and up against those sweaty, spread inner thighs. Ugh, it was her most favorite spot on her.

"You okay?"

"Hell yes," Quinn gasped.

"So tell me."

"You're lucky because look at you, you're all the way inside me, hovering over me, married to me, loving me, learning how to make popcorn by me."

Rachel laughed and her hips jerked, sending rockets through Quinn.

"Oh, god. Laugh. Laugh a lot and all the time."

Rachel giggled again and pulled out before pushing back in. Quinn arched beneath her, head pushing into the couch and jaw falling open. And Rachel just couldn't help herself. She leaned forward and bit her chin. She bit her jaw. She bit her collar, her chest and then landed over her nipple and bit it, too.

Quinn's hips rocked forward and her hands snapped tight to Rachel's ass, sweatpants half hanging down and as shining free.

"God, you're gorgeous," Quinn groaned as Rachel rolled back into her and sucked from one breast to the next, one and then the next, one and then the next.

Quinn dug her nails into Rachel's hips and focused on the shockwaves shooting from her breasts down her stomach and straight between her legs. With every pull Rachel took, they shot down her walls. And every push Rachel gave, they screamed with pleasure.

"You're crying."

What? Was she crying?
"It just feels, oh it feels amaaazing," Quinn hummed and Rachel's pride shot through the roof, right along with her confidence. She straightened up, hooked her hands around Quinn's knees, pulled her wider and watched it.

Oh, she should not have watched it.

In it went.

Out it pulled.

And oh, it glistened.

With Quinn.

She closed her eyes and imagined it.

She closed her eyes, stopped breathing and imagined what it felt like to be that sensitive and that deep inside Quinn, skin to skin and nerves to nerves.

Oh and she felt it.

Fuck, she felt it.

She felt it in her thighs, her lower back, the top of her neck and in her toes. Her toes! And, oh god, against her clit. She angled just, just right and it hit right against her. It pushed, rubbed, and burned against her.

All in the most fascinating ways.

She wanted to know more about those ways. She did. She wanted to know all about it, all the things, every all of it.

"Oh god," she moaned.

And Quinn's eyes snapped to hers. They snapped to her lids because they were clenched shut and her mouth was muttering stuff and her neck muscles were popping and her face was blood red and her hips, oh her hips just kept gyrating.

And every, ugh, every time she went in and then she went out and, oh god, it was-

What was she going to say?

Her eyes fell down Rachel's front. Those perfectly round, small breasts swayed with her grinding. They swished in captivating, mini circles and Quinn couldn't stop watching them.

Until she saw Rachel's stomach and her abs, her perfect abs from that one show where she had to be topless- praise Jesus for that show. They clenched and they released. They clenched and they released. And sweat, ohh not yet not yet, sweat dripped down them.

Oh, not yet. Not yet.

She reached forward and dragged her nails down those abs. Red scratches streaked behind them and she loved it. She reached out and did it again.

And then again.

"Oh god, that feels good," Rachel moaned. The scratches sent shivers and shocks and pulses straight down her abdomen and slamming onto her clit and it felt, shit it felt so good.

Quinn scratched her again, watching the muscles at that perfect vee at the peak of her legs clench and then shudder, clench and then shudder.

She needed more of it.

She reached up, grabbed both nipples and twisted.

Rachel flung forward with a ripped out moan and collapsed on top of her. Quinn wrapped her arms clear around her, hugged her tight and rolled her hips into her. Rachel rolled right back. Over and over, they rocked, until the fire they started churning when they were fifteen blazed out of control and took the whole fucking forest down.

"Your skin is burning," Rachel moaned, smothering Quinn's neck with hot, open mouthed kisses. She might as well have been eating her. She licked creases, sucked divots, bit bulges and kissed in between each.

"My insides are burning."

Rachel pulled her legs further apart and slowly slid herself deeper and deeper until she had nothing left to give.

And then she held it.

And she watched that face. Quinn's eyes clamped shut. Her lips quivered. Her ears twitched. And her stomach tightened, untightened, tightened, untightened. She was beautiful, perfect and astounding: Quinn Fabray-Berry.

Rachel slowly pulled back out, watched those eyes pull open with it, and then pushed back in, starting their rocking all over again. She quickened her pushes, slowed her pulls and drove the blonde absolutely freaking nuts.

Quinn pleaded beneath her. What she was pleading for, Quinn had no clue. But god, she begged. She begged and pleaded and just hoped the something glorious that was stacking bricks on itself inside her stomach and pushing towards her legs exploded and soon. She needed it.

She needed it so badly.

"Happy birthday," Rachel whispered into her ear, licked her way up it, placed another kiss to her forward and then dropped one of her hands between Quinn's legs.

"Oh my- my- my," Quinn tried as Rachel whipped circles around her clit. "You're everywhere. I feel you everywhere."

"Exactly as it should be," Rachel grinned, swooped her head down and captured her lips. She pulled them up, pushed against them until Quinn was disappearing into the cushion and took them home.

She swirled her fingers, rocked into the blonde and slipped in her tongue. It was like nothing she'd ever felt.

And as her thighs burned, her back ached and her heart overflowed with love, she knew it'd always be like; it would always be rare.

They would always be rare.

"Finish with me," she purred, pushed deeper and deeper to hit the spot she knew made Quinn shiver, the spot she'd accidentally found when she was sixteen, and threw Quinn over the edge.

Her hips shot forward, slammed into Rachel, and shot fire throughout her body. Everything clenched, everything shuddered, and everything felt like it was going to cave in on itself into one big combustible ball of energy.

And then it exploded like the stars and fluttered away.

She collapsed onto her wife, head to her heaving chest and ear to her heart. It pounded like it always had.

God, she loved her. She'd love her forever and then some.

"Yes," she heard uttered into her hair.

Rachel took control of her muscles for one more second and rolled her head to the right, eyes landing on sweat-stricken, exhausted, and blissful Quinn.



"Yes what?"

"Yes, I'll marry you."