[this might be my fav installment so far; you can message me on tumblr ( .com) if you want to see other POVs/have questions &/or suggestions]

when i hold you (you are rain in my hands)

.

you know i dreamed about you/ for twenty-nine years/ before i saw you

—the national, 'slow show'

/

You've been watching Nora part-time for about ten months, although you've known Rachel and Quinn for over a year: you'd been surprised at first when you'd gone to the interview and their child wasn't even born yet, but then you actually met Rachel, and then it wasn't surprising at all.

You've adored Nora since the beginning, and for a few weeks Rachel and Quinn intimidated the hell out of you, but you've grown to be comfortable around them, despite—okay, you'd snooped a little, but harmlessly, you swear—Quinn's terrifying office and their insanely expensive wardrobes.

It's a pretty awesome job, really—the pay is killer, and Nora really is adorable and it's amazed you to watch her grow up, and it gives you time to focus on your art too. Quinn and Rachel are pretty great too, all things considered—Rachel is constantly making sure the fridge and pantry are stocked with food she'd noticed you'd favored, and one day Quinn invited you to stay for the takeout she'd brought when she got home from a meeting and Rachel was at her show so she "wouldn't feel guilty for drinking wine alone," you'd mentioned that your boyfriend was having top surgery in a month, she'd smiled into her masala and then asked the loveliest questions—none of which had to do with gender, just with the two of you. But she'd made sure, in the following weeks, to ask thoughtful questions about your schedule, whether or not you needed more time off, even if there was anything she and Rachel could do to help out. Her kindness in those moments softened everything about her, and you can't imagine her grading your papers—that's a horrifying thought in itself—but when you watch her with her daughter and her wife, you're not so scared at all.

They're pretty cute, all things considered. Rachel is usually loud, and last February—a week after Valentine's, which was weird but whatever—you'd come over to a brownstone full of vases of gardenias and their unmade bed, Rachel blushing furiously and Quinn wrapping a huge scarf around her neck. Quinn focused completely on her boots while Rachel had mumbled something about yesterday being important, and you'd only let yourself be amazed by how in love they are once they'd left for their respective jobs and you'd sat in their open living room and taken it all in. You're pretty serious with Justin, and you are in love with him, but Quinn and Rachel still manage to take your breath away on occasion: they've known each other since they were fourteen, Rachel tells you one night, been in love since eighteen, maybe sooner. Quinn gets sick every few months—Rachel had called you to watch Nora in the middle of the night once when they went to the hospital because Quinn was having trouble breathing—and you don't ask why, and neither of them really say anything to you, but once you come over and Quinn is wearily finishing breakfast and Rachel is rubbing her back. Quinn leaves first, with a cough and then this sort of sad kiss, and Rachel sighs when she leaves and says, "I can't imagine the world without her in it," very softly before collecting herself and bustling around to gather everything she needs for the day.

For the most part, though, they're happy, profoundly and simply. They have their off-days, and they bicker from time to time, but once, when you'd commented on how they seem to have such a good life, Quinn shrugged with a smile and said, "I got lucky, that's all."

The past few months had been hard, though—not that they're fighting, and they'd taken a few days in Paris a month ago, even, but Rachel's newest film had been, from all you've gathered, terribly difficult to deal with. You knew a lot about it, even though you weren't allowed to really say anything to anyone. They set up this crazy schedule with you for three months—they gave you a raise and thanked you profusely, but really, it was fine—and for a week or so you didn't really notice anything different. But then there were none of Rachel's favorite vegan sweets in the pantry—so you really like the gingersnaps from Trader Joe's, whatever—and Rachel had started to look just a little thinner, and then one day she came home with all of her hair buzzed off; you didn't really know what to do other than make sure to hold her gaze and not stare the entire time you told her about Nora's day. A few days later Quinn was obviously sniffling when she came home first. You learned that it was a movie about a concentration camp, and as everything grew more subdued, you didn't have to wonder why. You tried your hardest to keep things light and normal for Nora, but even she seemed just a little less vivacious, even though she had started to talk a little and still squealed on the swings at the park.

But tonight Rachel and Quinn had gone to a wrap party. It's late and Nora had gone to bed hours ago, and you're trying to stay awake by watching your favorite standup comedy—Quinn is a huge fan, so they have an impressive collection of recordings—even though they never mind if you fall asleep. You hear them struggling to open the door for a few seconds and smile to yourself; they'd come home drunk a handful of times before, and they're always amusing. They finally get the front door open and you hear Quinn say, "Yes," while Rachel booms a laugh, which makes your smile bloom into a grin, because yeah, you've missed that too, and then you hear a thump. It's quiet for a few seconds after that and you're about to go check on them when you hear a moan from Rachel, and then Quinn mumble something about "it's getting long enough to pull," and then a low growl from Quinn.

You make a bunch of noise as you feel your cheeks heat up, clear your throat, and they're quiet for another minute before you hear Quinn say, "I love you," and Rachel return the sentiment tenderly. They walk into the living room hand in hand, glassy-eyed, with swollen lips, Rachel trying to straighten her dress, Quinn with tangled hair. You try not to laugh but then Quinn starts fishing around in her purse for some money—they pay you a salary but sometimes extra when they run late—and you say, "Really, it's okay," because they both kind of smell like tequila and Rachel's hand is drifting toward Quinn's ass with this little smirk on her face. Quinn emerges with a small, "Aha!" and a one-hundred euro bill, and hands them it to you, asks, "Is this okay? I don't know where the rest of my American cash is and the exchange rate is—"

You laugh and so does Rachel, and you say, "Really, you don't need to pay me anything extra for—"

Quinn practically shoves the bill into your hand and slurs, "You've just been so great."

Rachel kisses Quinn's shoulder and Quinn's eyes flutter for a moment, and you can't really see one of Rachel's hands somewhere behind Quinn's back, and really you need to leave as quickly as possible, so you move to gather your laptop, and then you turn toward them.

"We haven't—" Rachel's brow furrows— "this is our first time having sex since I finished filming."

Quinn blushes but she smiles, and for as mildly gross as this is, they're still stupidly adorable together.

"I'll leave you to it, then," you say, and Rachel launches herself forward to give you a slightly unsteady hug and a sloppy and very alcohol-saturated kiss on the cheek, and Quinn's hug is stiffer but kind. "Good night, guys," you say, and they wave with a few giggles.

You don't even make it out of the foyer before you hear a zipper and Quinn's "Oh god, baby," and you lock up faster than you ever had before.

You get there early the next morning—Rachel has press interviews and Quinn has a seminar—and both of them look exhausted, and, of course, they're wearing thick scarves. Quinn looks embarrassed but Rachel playfully hipchecks her while she's buttering toast, and they kiss gently before Quinn says, "Did I give you euro last night?"

You laugh with a nod, and she laughs too. "Do you want American cash?"

"It's fine," you say, and go to kiss the top of Nora's head while she sits in her high chair generally making a mess of her cheerios.

They both thank you again, slightly sheepishly, but then Rachel just ends up laughing and Quinn groans and says, "Quieter, honey, please."

Rachel smiles and Quinn rolls her eyes, ushers her wife out of their brownstone with a gentle hand to the small of her back.

Nora starts laughing and you pick her up. "Your moms are silly, aren't they, Nor?"

She moves to tug on your hair with a grin. Her eyes are almost Quinn's hazel, and her skin is darker like Rachel's, and she's beautiful, and you love her quite a lot. "Let's go to the park, yeah?" you ask.

She nods a little and you bundle her up and get her stroller ready, and yeah, it feels pretty good to be a part of all of the warmth here.