Faberry (We Might Fall Hard, We Might Fall Fast)

17

The blood curdling scream that filled the entire house made both Quinn, and Rachel shoot upright in bed. Quinn felt her heart pound with panic at hearing Santana's obvious terror and Rachel grabbed hold of her hand. However, it soon became apparent when she heard the very long stream of swear words directed towards the older Lopez sister that the doll heads had been found.

She relaxed, and collapsed back down on the bed.

"Shouldn't we go and see what's wrong?" Rachel asked; her eyes were wide with concern.

"Nothing's wrong." The blonde replied, and grabbed the back of the singers' top, pulling her back down. "Santana found the decapitated heads is all."

"Not real ones though? Right?" Sometimes the blonde wondered exactly what went on in her friends' head, for her to even need to ask the question.

She put her arm around the smaller girl, and brought her close. "No, not real ones, just doll heads."

"That's a relief." Rachel sighed, and squeezed the pregnant girl tightly. "I'm feeling slightly nauseous."

"Don't you dare be sick on me!" The blonde chided playfully.

"I never would." The Diva laughed, and nuzzled herself up against her friends' neck.

Quinn tensed for a moment before she became wholly relaxed with their position. This is definitely going to be a thing from now on. She thought. Having the sensation of Rachel's breath on her neck was so very... Intimate. She closed her eyes, and linked her fingers with the hand that was draped over her middle.

It was such a cliché, but Quinn never could've known happiness like this existed, and it made her want to shout it from the rooftop. She wasn't going to though. Well, probably not anyway.

There was the distinct sound of stomping from the next room that then led out into the hall, and with a heavy swing, the door crashed open. Quinn looked up to see Santana holding up a doll head ready to throw. "She's downstairs Lopez."

There were several angry grunts in reply, and the door was slammed shut.

"Uh-oh!" Rachel chuckled, "Somebody is a little bit annoyed."

"I think that sums it up pretty well. Just have to wait for the incoherent shouting start." The blonde started counting, and got up to six. "-And there it is!"

The brunette laughed again, causing yet another shiver to the pregnant girl. "I can't even tell what she's saying."

They both listened to the tirade of angry noises, only catching the word 'Bitch' before the hysterical laughter from the older sister started. "I really hope that neither one of them has some sort of underlying heart defect. The crap they pull on each other gets worse and worse."

"Why decapitated dolls heads?"

"Santana had a dream once about it, or something. I can't really remember." She felt Rachel shift slightly, and looked down to see her concentrating on a spot on the wall. "You alright? You know where the bathroom is if you're going to throw up."

"No, it's not that. I just remembered the dreams I had last night."

"Oh? Were they good?"

"One of them was very nice, but the other one involved Santana, Brittany and myself having a shoot out with the mafia in the choir room, which was actually a train car, and we were protecting you and Baby, and then Noah ducked under the bullets that were flying around, because it was time for him to go home."

"Huh. That was odd. I wonder what it could mean?"

"I shouldn't think there was any deeper meaning to it. Only that you have friends who want to protect you, and Noah likes to go home on time."