Just a little fun peace while working on my more serious peace. There may be a rating change later, I'm not sure yet. Enjoy! And please review!

Chapter One: Realization

She was more than aware of the fact that the whole hallway seemingly going quiet was a little bizarre. For one thing, all the students of McKinley High were between classes, so there definitely wasn't a lack of teenage bodies making there way to wherever they were going. Then there was the fact that Finn was standing directly in front of her, going on and on about something she knew she should have been listening to, but she wasn't. She couldn't. Not two seconds before, her ears decided that working was no longer necessary.

Quinn Fabray had rounded the corner, tightening her ponytail before placing her hands on her hips, and swinging them with an attitude that had long been absent. Her cheerios skirt swayed, contrasting her steely gaze. Rachel didn't think she had ever looked at her like that before. In fact, she was sure she hadn't. For the first time, she feel like she was really seeing all that was one Miss Quinn Fabray.

"Rachel?" Finn said, tilting his head as he peered down at her, but she merely sidestepped to get a better look at the scene unfolding.

First, seeing Santana approach Quinn, she thought perhaps they were having some sort of Cheerios reunion of sorts. Brittany was standing off to the side, holding her binder, and as expressionless as ever. Yes, she was sure they were welcoming Quinn back with open arms. That was, until Santana shoved Quinn against the lockers, immediately cuing the return of Rachel's listening capabilities. Not quite the family reunion she was expecting to see.

"You told Coach about my summer surgery," Santana accused, and what was different about her finally clicked. Rachel had been trying to figure it out, as they casually passed each other in the hallways, seeing that Santana still refused to do anything other than insult her, outside of the choir room. And, in the choir room really.

"A boob job," Rachel thought, "Aha!"

The two Cheerios continued to yell and insult one another; Santana going so far as to slap Quinn, until Mr. Shue finally stepped in. When Quinn yelled for Santana to walk away and tighten her pony—her words, exactly—Rachel was surprised to see Santana actually do it, literally. If she was just going to bow down to the chain of command she worshiped so dearly anyways, why even have the encounter at all? Brittany was right, they needed to stop the violence.

"Whoa."

She jumped, having forgotten that Finn was with her. "Whoa, indeed. I really hope they can get along during rehearsal, I don't want their fighting to get in the way of me presenting my idea for my solo at sectionals. This time, I'm going with..." And like that they were on their way, moving on as if nothing ever happened. Of course, she couldn't get the image of Quinn rounding the corner the way she had out of her head for the rest of the day, but those weren't things one would typically discuss with their boyfriend. Especially not when their boyfriend used to date the girl one couldn't stop thinking about.

"Rachel," Ms. Pillsbury said, in surprise. "What can I help you with?"

It had been two days since the hallway incident had happened, and her every thought seemed to lead right back to Quinn Fabray. Not even a night of Barbra could get Quinn out of her head. "Ms. Pillsbury, let me say that I find this whole encounter to be completely uncomfortable. More uncomfortable than the time you caught me trying to throw up in the bathroom, and said that I'd one day appreciate my lack of a gag reflex."

The counselor laughed nervously. "You remember that."

"Of course." She began to play with the ends of her plaid skirt, her eyes going anywhere but in the direction of the redhead sitting behind the desk. "The other day while Finn and I were discussing my insecurities about him being on the football team, and how he obviously is in the line of sight of every cheerleader hoping to rise to the top, something very strange happened."

"You know, Finn may not realize it, but at his age premature-"

"Please don't finish that sentence," Rachel said, raising her hands, and closing her eyes tightly. "I should have made it clear that the location of this conversation was very much in public, and there was no touching at all, which perhaps wouldn't necessarily prevent what you are trying to-" She shook her head, letting her hands drop, and finally looked at the counselor again. "This is about me. We were standing in the hallway talking when all of a sudden Quinn Fabray came walking down the hall. Having just been reinstated as head Cheerio, I later found out. Now, it wasn't the first time I had seen her tighten her already seemingly agonizingly tight ponytail, and it definitely wasn't the first time I had seen that look of superiority, or the walk that goes with it, but...But this time, it was different."

Ms. Pillsbury frowned. "Different, how?"

She felt a little temperature rise in my cheeks, but was far from smiling. "It was like," surely she could come up with something better than an old cliché; time stopping, or whatever else that had been said in more than a handful of cheesy romance films. But only one really popped into her head. "Like there was only her...Like for a split second, I was completely consumed by her, and all she was doing was walking down the hall. I couldn't hear anything, or focus my attention on anyone, but her. I can't even remember what Finn and I were really talking about before I saw her. Is that...normal?"

"Well, how exactly did you feel when this happened? Sometimes the brain can be very tricky, I myself have some—issues, that sometimes surface at the most humiliating times. Not to say that you have any, but what I'm trying to say is that sometimes our brain can make us over do it when there are other things going on beneath the surface, that we ignore for a long period of time. Understand?"

Sometimes she wondered why Ms. Pillsbury couldn't just outright say what she meant, instead of giving some kind of comparison to whatever scenario, usually one involving her own issues, that may have somehow resembled what students came to see her about. "I don't think that this exactly qualifies as one of those moments." Moments that Rachel thought much resembled a nervous breakdown. "There's nothing that I've been trying to ignore, if you're suggesting that perhaps I've had sexual thoughts about other girls before—Let me rephrase that—I've never thought about a girl in a way other than the simple admiration of her outfit, attitude, or talent. Which are all good reasons to appreciate someone, I might add."

"Yes." She smiled, and it was one of the ones Rachel knew meant the counselor was nervous. She was rethinking her counselor visit. "Okay, well then, in that moment were you possibly admiring Quinn's attitude?" she asked, sounding as if she were questioning her own question.

Rachel wanted to ask her about her credentials, but she remembered her fathers saying something about the importance of being polite in a delicate situation. "No. If anything, I'd want to glare at her because of her attitude. Quinn Fabray, though she has had her softer moments, is not exactly known for being the nicest Cheerio. We have had plenty encounters over the years involving grotesque name calling, pornographic drawings of me in inappropriate places-"

"I've seen those," she interjected, but Rachel chose to go on.

"There is no way that I would ever admire her attitude. She's a firm believer in the supposed chain of command around here, and she has reminded me of that repeatedly. With the exception of her months of pregnancy, of course. I suspect, however, that regaining her title may lead to a horrible regression, in which I will have to suffer and endure lots of torment."

"Okay..." Again, she laughs nervously. Rachel wondered if was hard for Ms. Pillsbury to keep her eyes from widening when she was nervous, the hugeness of them was often distracting. "How about her outfit? Have you ever perhaps wanted to be a Cheerio? Maybe a lot of feelings were brought back to the surface."

"I may not be the most popular girl in the school, but I'd rather be where I am on the social ladder, than become another Cheerio. I mean, I don't understand why they'd rather have reputations of being anorexic sluts, than a nice girl who just doesn't fit into the social norm." This was something she was sure Ms. Pillsbury could appreciate, she herself wasn't exactly the norm, in terms of the other faculty staff members. How people didn't see the lunacy that is Sue Sylvester, she would never understand.

"That leaves talent. We could both agree that Quinn is quite talented. She is not only a Cheerio, but a fellow Glee member." She smiled brightly, and Rachel couldn't help but wonder if she believed she had just discovered the truth that lay beneath all her problems.

"I don't think that's it. Sure, she's a great Cheerio, if you're impressed by yelling and twirling, and she can sing well, but I am a far more superior singer. And I have no desire to do flips, or to be tossed high into the air only to then rely on your teammates to catch you. Especially when these teammates are known for being alcoholic drug abusers, who don't eat sufficiently, and who have probably slept with the entire school. I don't think that shows how responsible they are, that's for sure."

They both stared at each other for a moment, as Ms. Pillsbury tried to find a way to get through to the teenager before her. It wasn't the first time a student had come to talk to her about their attraction to someone of the same sex—though she was surprised to be talking to Rachel Berry about same sex attraction-the only thing was, these other students had actually (basically) admitted their attraction. She wasn't sure what to say to someone who was entirely unsure of what they felt about someone, or in this case what they felt when they saw them. The possibility of it being something other than attraction, as Rachel was claiming, seemed slim.

"Well," Ms. Pillsbury began, breaking the silence. "Rachel, the thing is-" Before she counselor could finish her sentence, someone bumped into one of the glass walls of her office, drawing their attention.

Rachel turned in her chair, frowning when she saw Brittany beginning to walk away, rubbing her reddening forehead. Suddenly, she got an idea. "I'm sorry," she said, turning back to Ms. Pillsbury. "Perhaps we can revisit this conversation at a later date. Say tomorrow, during my lunch?"

Nodding, she cleared her throat. "Of course."

Rachel stood up quickly, as the woman tried to tell her to have a nice day. "You too," she yelled behind her, as she exited the office. If there was anyone who could possibly help her understand what was happening, it was Brittany. Sure, at first the logic may not have been so apparent, but if what Ms. Pillsbury had been insinuating was true, than there was no one better to ask than Brittany. "Brittany," she called, spotting the Cheerio around the corner. The blonde stopped, and looked around, obviously unable to spot who had called her even after she had looked directly at Rachel. "Brittany," she called again. "Wait."

Brittany stood still, holding her binder in front of her just as she had when Quinn and Santana were fighting. "Oh, hey. Is it time for Glee?"

"What? No, it's only first period, Brittany." She shook her head, not wanting to dwell on the odd question, that wasn't so odd coming from the blonde. "I was hoping that maybe we could have a quick chat."

"Well, I'm not sure what class I'm supposed to be going to, but I doubt there will be any computers in it. Last time I was in one of those classes, my computer exploded," she deadpanned.

Yet another thing she had to ignore. "Okay, well can we talk for a second?"

"Sure," she smiled. "Are you going to ask me to do another video with you? I really liked those wings we used."

"Unfortunately, not. But, I will consider asking on a later date. Perhaps my myspace page could benefit from-" Again, she shook her head. "I was wondering," she stepped closer, lowering her voice a little. "Have you ever suddenly gone deaf when you were looking at Santana?"

Brittany frowned. "Deaf like those kids from that one school?"

"Yes. Well, no not exactly." Rachel thought it was impossible for the crease between the blonde's brow to grow deeper, but she was wrong. "Yes, just like that," she said, figuring 'the simpler the better' was her best route while talking to Brittany.

"Hmm." Her head tilted as she slightly looked up, really thinking about the question. To Rachel, it seemed as if the other teen were actually going through every moment she had spent with her fellow Cheerio, and that was something she knew would take a while. However, Brittany quickly looked back to the short brunette. "I don't think so. Why? Do you?"

"Oh God no," she huffed. The situation with Quinn was bad enough, if it would have been Santana that had lead to her sudden loss of hearing, she really would have been a mess. There would have been a nervous breakdown, much resembling the one she thought about while talking to Ms. Pillsbury. "I was just wondering is all."

"Oh, okay. Well, bye," Brittany said, giving a small wave before turning to walk away.

Rachel was at a loss. There was no doubt in her mind that Brittany was head over heels for Santana, whether the girl was able to see it herself or not. Surely then, the blonde would have had such a moment. Then, she thought to herself, had she had that moment with Finn in the past? Certainly! Which only meant one thing—She was attracted to Quinn Fabray. Perhaps she hadn't thought to compare what had happened in the hallway to her moments with Finn, or seeing him from a distance, because she had deeply encased herself in a pool of denial. It didn't matter anymore though, because now she was flooded with realization.

Later that night, Brittany sat at the head of her bed drawing ducks on her homework assignment, while Santana was laying across the end of her bed actually doing her homework as she kicked her feet. "San?"

"Yeah, Britt?" she asked, looking up from her homework.

"Do you ever go deaf when you see yourself in the mirror?"

Squinting her eyes at the blonde, she slowly sat up. "What are you talking about?" Usually, she could understand Brittany's randomness, or at least knew when to brush it off all together, but this question seemed a little different. It was a little too bizarre, while also seeming to hold some kind of actual logic.

"Today, Rachel asked me if I ever go deaf when I see you, so I was wondering if you went deaf when you saw yourself." She wasn't sure why Rachel's question had been bothering her all day. Usually, she couldn't remember most things people said to her at all, let alone all day. Unless, it was Santana, of course.

"Berry asked you what?" At first, she thought the little weasel was indirectly making fun of Brittany, and her mind started to fill with thoughts of how many ways she was going to make the diva feel her wrath. However, after a moment, something else occurred to her. "She trying to say I'm loud, or something?" She scoffed, rolling her eyes, with the wave of her hand. "'Cause we already know that. But that doesn't mean she gets to go around talking shit. You got something to say to me, I say bring it."

"I don't think that's it San." If there was anyone to learn from about insulting people, it was Santana. The Latina girl didn't shy away from saying whatever she thought about anyone, and seeing that Brittany was around Santana a lot, she knew what an insult really sounded like. What Rachel had asked her didn't seem like an insult at all. "Anyway, she didn't even say it loud enough for other people to hear, like you always do."

"Damn straight," she proudly stated, with a stern nod. "Look, we both know Rachel Berry is a freak." Her lips curved into a sultry grin, and she pushed her books and spirals off the end of the bed before crawling towards Brittany, who looked confused by her actions at first but then began to smirk in understanding. "Why waste our time talking about Manhands," Santana said, pushing the blonde's spiral off of her lap and onto the floor. She acted as if she were going to kiss the other girl, but stopped, their lips almost touching. "When we could use our own hands for something...satisfying."

Just when Santana started to lean in again, Brittany put her hand on the brunette's chest to stop her. "Wait, my door's not locked."

She nearly fell into the headboard when Brittany suddenly got up, sliding out of the way as she tried to kiss her again, not caring about the door—Though she knew she should have. As she unzipped the side of her own Cheerio top, she turned to watch her best friend hurry to lock the door before turning around to face her, the smirk on her lips ever present. The blonde moved to let down her ponytail, and that's when it happened...

As long blonde locks came loose, Santana's world slowed. She could no longer hear the sound of whatever cartoon Brittany's little sister was watching next door, nor could she hear whatever Brittany had said to make herself giggle the way she was—not that she could hear that either. Her heart started pounding in her chest as she dumbly watched the blonde walk over to the side of the bed, but then something brought her out of her haze, and it wasn't the feel of Brittany's hand sliding from her shoulder to the back of her neck in attempt to pull her in for a kiss.

She too had a moment of realization. "Berry has a crush on me!"

TBC