Nationals.

(Part 1 of 2)

Days like today don't happen very often; especially to New Directions.

To begin with, only fifty show choirs out of all the show choirs in the country make it to Nationals.

Is that impressive?

Well, it really all depends on your definition of impressive.

The number of choirs in the country changes depending on who you happen to be asking, so I can't really give you a remarkable statistic on that.

For example, if you're asking Quinn Fabray she'll answer "too many".

If you're asking Brittany Pierce her eyebrows will scrunch up and she'll ask you, "I thought we were a Glee club?'

If you ask Santana Lopez she'll most likely inform you to "shut up".

If you're asking William Schuester he'll tell you "636", a number he most definitely made up.

And, if you're asking Rachel Berry she'll tell you "countless".

Since I can't use any of the other responses, and countless comes up with an imaginary number, which happen to be highly unimpressive like most imaginary things, I'll use 636.

So, that means only 7.8% of kids who, at the very least pretended to want to be here, are here.

Impressive enough.

No, days like today don't happen very often at all.

It's definitely not every day that a choir from a Podunk town in Ohio wins third place at a nationally ranked, globally watched, competition.

Okay, globally watched might be stretching it, but it is one of the nationally ranked competitions for show choirs in the US.

So, all in all, New Directions, at this very moment, are pretty impressive.

Today is a very rare day indeed.

Days don't often end in lock downs in a hotel in the middle of New York City. Well, days of Ohio school students don't often.

Okay, so it's not a real lock down. It's more like a Mr. Schue-instigated lock down.

But he has a really good reason.

Well, at least, he thinks he thinks he does:

"Are you serious right now, Man Hands?"

"All I am saying, Santana, is that if we start a tradition of summer practices maybe next year we won't fail."

Mercedes grits her teeth and counts to five before she attempts to step into the ring. It's a technique Kurt showed her only recently. "Rach, we got third."

"Yes, Mercedes. Third. Next year we could be first."

"Finnessa, fix your girlfriend before I fix her with my fists."

"Santana, are Rachel's pipes leaking?"

Finn sticks his hands into his jean pocket and looks away from the group, "She's not my girlfriend anymore."

"Yeah, for today," Puck mumbles loud enough for the group to hear.

Finn turns immediately towards Puck, "Do you have something to say to me?"

Never one to turn down a challenge, especially when Lauren is watching, Puck walks forward into Finn's space, "Yeah. If you weren't busy moping around maybe you could have actually sang and we wouldn't have lost to thosepompous asshats again."

"Asshats?" Quinn mutters to herself from her seat away from the group.

"Like you could do any better."

"Like hell I couldn't. Listen here, Hudson, any guy here could have done better than what you did out there," Puck pauses for a second, "Even Chang could have sung circles around you."

"Don't talk about Mike like that!" Tina counters out of nowhere, causing an array of surprised expressions to be aimed at her.

"I don't need you to defend me."

"Don't talk to Tina that way!" Artie attempts to roll up to Mike but is cut off by Tina's foot.

"Maybe we should all just call it a night," Sam attempts but is cut off by Puck's body hitting him hard in the shoulder.

"Oh no, you did not just push my man, Hudson."

Finn's face pales as Lauren begins a slow walk towards him.

"See what you started, Berry."

"I started! I was merely pointing out that summer vacation is full of opportunities for…"

William Schuester walks into a room of screaming teenagers.

You'd think he'd be used to it by now.

"Guys! Guys! This is not how a team should behave!"

At the sound of their teacher's voice, Lauren drops Finn, who stops his girlish screams. Puck stops his manic laughter. Rachel stops talking, which is a feat in itself and Santana internally curses Schue because once again she's lost a good opportunity to hit Berry.

Oh, and Mike and Artie also stop doing something, whatever it might be.

"I was going to take the club out to celebrate, but I see that none of you really want to celebrate." Will runs a hand through his hair, forgetting the product he put in it earlier. He really has to stop doing that. "We just placed at Nationals, guys! We should be congratulating each other, not fighting."

"Look, Schuester, I really thing we earned the ability to say this," Santana takes a deep breath, "Seriously, shut up."

Quinn peeks out of the room to the back of Emma's head. Stupid Schue has a chaperone stationed outside every room. What could he possibly be trying to accomplish with this stupid stunt?

Classic Schue. Doing things that make absolutely no sense, making other people suffer.

"Berry, I swear to God if you open your mouth."

"I find it quite hypocritical, Quinn, that you find it okay to admonish other sins and yet take the Lord's name in vain. You do know that that is way above…"

"Berry, I don't think you really want to hear the 'then' to my sentence."

"Though, I admit your use of grammar is really quite…"

Quinn looks at Rachel incredulously before sitting heavily on the bed, "Seriously, this can't be happening."

"Fabray, your hyperventilating is really cramping my style." Lauren flips a page in her magazine from her spot on the other bed.

"What exactly are you reading anyways?"

"Do you really want to know?"

Quinn shakes her head quickly. Living with Puck for any amount of time teaches one that magazines of a certain thickness and shape should never be questioned.

"Well, I for one would like to engage you in conversation, Lauren. What is your magazine about?"

Lauren sits up in the bed, grinning, "Here, why don't you take a look."

Horrified, Quinn watches in slow motion as Lauren starts to hand Rachel the magazine, images of the hours of horrific lectures and all the power points that could possibly be made flashing before her eyes.

Before she knows what she's doing, she's up out of the bed tackling the magazine away from Rachel. Perhaps using a little more force than completely necessary.

Wait, this isn't right. Quinn stares down at the magazine.

"What the hell is Dragon Age?" She shakes her head; she doesn't really want to know.

Smirking, Lauren pulls the magazine out of Quinn's hands, plopping herself back onto the bed. "You've got a little kink in you, don't you, Fabray?"

Quinn grunts a negative, unable to form any words that wouldn't be taken the wrong way.

"Puckerman must have grabbed my 'Nudies with Booties' so, I'm stuck with whatever this crap is."

"Quinn!" Finally recovering from the shock, Rachel smooths any wrinkles that may have accumulated on her sweater, "That was very rude."

"Last time I do you a favour," Quinn mutters as she brushes off all the germs she probably caught from that tackle.

"A favour!" Rachel huffs, "Really, Quinn, if you have so much pent up aggression, may I suggest talking it out instead of letting in manifest into physical violence."

"I wasn't trying to hurt you," Quinn replies, slightly offended. "If I was trying to hurt you, you'd know it." She knows for a fact that she has a mean right hook.

"See, kink, Fabray, you know you like it."

Quinn bites her tongue. While she may be able to take Santana and definitely Berry, Lauren is a completely different story.

"What are we going to do?" Quinn looks down at her watch, "It's only 7 o'clock."

"While I find your voice quite nasally, Blondie, you have a point. The Zizes hates to be caged." Lauren pauses, "At least clothed."

"Oh my God. I am going to die from…"

Lauren stands, "From what, Fabray?"

"We can always continue our conversation from early today, Quinn."

"Oh God, no."

"Quinn! Quinn!" Rachel scurries on the bus after the blonde, "Quinn!"

Quinn sits herself down in the first bus seat as impossibly close to the aisle as she can get.

"Quinn, do you mind scooting into the seat? It is proper bus riding etiquette."

"Come on, Man Hands, your argyle is blinding me from here. Can you please sit the fuck down?"

"Well, Santana, I am simply waiting for Quinn to…"

"Fabray, honestly. For the good of everyone's sanity."

Throwing her hands in the air, Quinn begins to move over, "What about my sanity? What about that, Lopez?"

"Ten versus one, suck it up." Santana pushes past Rachel as Rachel slips in the seat next to Quinn.

Obviously, the love of Brittany has really improved the Latina's disposition.

"If you need any tips, Quinn, I'm very good at it."

Quinn doesn't know exactly what Brittany is referring to but she knows enough to blush as the other blonde walks by and sits herself next to Santana.

Rachel looks at Quinn questioningly, "Tips on what?"

"Neither of us really wants to know." Quinn moves as close to the window as she can. "And why are you sitting here?"

"I've been trying to get your attention for the last hour. I felt this would be the most effective means to that end. I, however, had hoped to accomplish this goal prior to now. I had promised Tina previously that I would sit with her seeing as she is having the trying issue of choosing between two different men, a feat I feel I must become familiar with for practice later in my life. But now that the bus is about to begin moving, we are stuck together for the remainder of the trip."

"Are you still talking?"

"No, I finished."

"There is a reason I have been avoiding you for the last hour."

"Yes. I am aware. But I do think it'll be beneficial to us both if we talk."

Quinn raises an eyebrow, "Us both? Or just you?"

"Us both," Rachel reaffirms with a plastered grin.

"Right."

"I just think that we should talk about the happenings of last weekend."

"I don't."

"I do."

"Well," Quinn sighs, "I don't care."

"Quinn Fabray, I would like to inform you that my own personal research into the field of psychology gives me the near professional ability, and perhaps duty, to tell you that its always good to talk about…"

Quinn quickly reaches into her bag praying that she didn't forget the only thing that might be able to save her.

"What is that?"

"An iPod."

"But, we are talking, Quinn."

Placing the headphones into her ear, Quinn lays her head against the window, "Not anymore."

"Yeah, that sounds about as fun as listening to Berry recite the first act of Wicked, again." Lucky for Quinn, Lauren sits herself back down onto the bed.

"When did she do that?"

"When you put your headphones in on the bus, Quinn. I needed to express myself in some way."

Quinn shakes her head into her hands, "I'm so sorry."

"Well, it is quite okay, Quinn. I do think that we really should talk about…"

"Not to you Berry. I was apologising to Lauren."

"Oh." Rachel's smile falters, "I see."

"What is so important that you need to talk to Fabray about anyways?"

Quinn feels the heat rising in her cheeks. "She doesn't."

Lauren rolls her eyes, "Even Brittany noticed."

"It's true, Quinn. I do not do subtle well."

"Quinn! Quinn!"

Rachel rushes over to Quinn's side as they line up behind the curtain.

"Berry, what the hell are you doing?" Quinn mouths as quietly as she can, "We're almost on."

"Quinn, I fear I will not be able to truly perform to my fullest potential if we…"

"What the hell, Sasquatch, you're in my spot."

"Santana, I will move in just a minute."

"Or now." Santana pushes Rachel enough so that she falls into Finn who is quick to steady her on her feet.

"Thank you, Finn," Rachel beams up at him.

Quinn scoffs, "Yes, because I really want to listen to what you have to say now."

Rachel turns quickly to Quinn, "What do you mean?"

"Suffocate my boyfriend much, Berry?"

"I was pushed!"

"Whatever, I think your spot is over there, Man Hands."

Rachel is taken aback by Quinn's sudden outburst but recovers quickly, stomping her way back to the other side of the stage.

"Thinking about that, Fabray, maybe it's your fault we only got third."

"Mine?"

"Yeah, Berry warned you."

"Rachel did the best out of everyone out there," Quinn responds before she can stop herself.

"Why thank you, Quinn, I really do appreciate…"

"I think I need a drink," Quinn mutters.

"I think you're in luck, Blondie," Lauren stands, grinning, "There's always the minibar."

"No, no, no, we cannot touch that." Rachel places herself between the two girls and the mini fridge. It just wouldn't be right. "Do not touch the mini bar. It was number seven on Mr Schue's list of things not to do."

Not to mention drinking was number one.

"If we wanted your opinion, we'd squeeze you."

Quinn can't control her laughter at this. The image of Lauren Zizes holding Rachel upside down and squashing her will forever be one of her favourites.

"Fabray, are you going to continue to giggle like a virgin school girl or are you going to move our dwarfish obstruction?"

"She's not dwarfish." Quickly realizing what she said Quinn backtracks, "More …..impish."

"Quinn Fabray! I have absolutely nothing in common with an imp. Do you even know what an imp is?"

"Excuse me, Berry, but I'm not an idiot." Quinn grins, "Is that you admitting you have things in common with a dwarf?"

"What!" Rachel huffs, "Not even remotely…"

"This is getting tired," Lauren sighs. She grabs Rachel in a bear hug, ignoring the shrill shrieks coming from the light girl. "Really, Berry, you'll scream out those vocal cords of yours."

In silence, Lauren carries Rachel to the other side of the room, placing her down on the one awkward chair sitting in the corner, "Now, sit tight, Berry, while the adults make good with what God gave us."

Rachel crosses her arms across her chest making a huffing noise, "I would just like to say I am opposed to your actions."

"Wasn't it you making us terrible cocktails at an anti-drinking assembly?" Quinn asks as she opens the door to the fridge.

"I feel I have grown since then."

"Berry, it's only been three months or something."

Quinn looks around for the glasses but Lauren beats her to it, opening a cupboard above the fridge, "It's like you've never been to a hotel before, Fabray."

"Just so you know, Quinn, a lot can change in a few months," Rachel stands and walks closer to the pair, "And it's been four months."

"Excuse me, four months." Quinn quickly twists open the small bottle of Smirnoff.

"Yes, Quinn, a lot can change. For example, you learn how ambitious certain teammates of yours are. Or how conniving the human spirit…"

"Shut up and drink this," Quinn thrusts the bottle into Rachel's hand.

"I did not say that I was partaking in this behaviour, Quinn."

Lauren sighs heavily, "Honestly, Berry, next time I carry you, it won't be to the other side of the room."

Rachel glances nervously to the much too open window and then to the balcony, "I require a glass."

Quinn shakes her head, "No. No you don't. Just drink."

"But, I fear this is a slippery slope. All this alcohol is missing is a paper bag."

Quinn can't control her eye roll, "And cough syrup and crunched up Oreos, right Berry?"

"I resent your resentment, Quinn."

Quinn reaches back into the fridge and pulls out an identical bottle, handing it to Lauren and then grabs a small Captain bottle for herself.

"I have a coke in my bag," Lauren walks to the other side of the room.

"I hope it's the liquid kind," Quinn mutters as she pours more and more into her glass.

"Quinn, can you please hand me a glass I will not be barbaric."

"Sorry, Midget, I only got enough coke for two; you're going to have to go all natural."

Lauren throws the coke bottle to Quinn who hungrily fills her glass the rest of the way.

"But, this is much too strong."

"Stop your whining and drink," Lauren demands mid drink.

"Can't we play a drinking game or something? I have heard this facilitates the camaraderie of drinking and loosens…"

"We can play the game 'Midget Throw'."

"Oh." Rachel's face pales, "No that's okay."

"But, you didn't even let me explain the rules."

Quinn shakes her head, "That's enough." Lauren shrugs and takes another drink.

"Rachel, if you don't breathe through your nose it's not so bad."

"Thank you, Quinn."

Sitting down on the floor, Rachel holds her nose and pours the liquid down her throat.

"All gone!." Rachel casually stands, or, at least, her attempt at casual.

It only took an impressive fifteen minutes for all three girls to finish their drinks.

"Good job, Berry." Lauren slaps Rachel on the back causing the smaller girl to stumble forward.

"Lauren, stop abusing Rachel."

"Right, forgot that was your job, Blondie."

Quinn opens her mouth for a retort but she can't seem to find any in her repertoire.

"Can't we all just get along?" Rachel throws her empty bottle towards the waste can, hitting the wall first before it falls down into the bin.

"No!" Quinn watches as the bottle cracks just a little from the force of the throw. "Damnit Berry, we needed to fill that back up with water."

"Quinn! That's so deceitful."

"Do you have extra money to buy all this alcohol? That was probably twelve dollars."

"But, it was so tiny."

Lauren laughs manically, "That was five shots of vodka, Berry. You're going to be a drunken mess."

"I am highly offended by that allegation." Rachel makes a grab for Quinn's drink but stumbles when Quinn moves her hand, "I am, and will remain, perfectly sober."

"Why is she hugging me?" Quinn looks between a snickering Lauren and a very grabby Rachel.

"She's one of those drunks."

"You can have her." Quinn tries to push Rachel off of her onto Lauren, but the girl refuses to budge.

Lauren's laughter increases, "She's drunk. Not suicidal, Fabray."

"Don't push anymore, Quinn." Quinn looks down to the girl who has somehow pushed herself entirely too close for comfort. "Pull."

"Maybe Berry is the kinky one."

"Don't talk about her like that," sighing, Quinn shakes her, "I mean, she probably doesn't even know what kinky means."

"I am highly offended," Rachel pulls away from Quinn slightly, "again."

"Seriously, Berry, is there a time when you aren't offended?"

"I am highly…" Rachel glares at Quinn's smirk, "I find it atrocious that you would assume such things when I have not gotten offended at some of your more heinous…"

"Okay, I am beginning to feel much too crowded with all this repression filling the room."

Quinn glares at the girl, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You want to bring it right here, Goldilocks, because I know exactly what…"

"Shut up, shut up." Quinn stands, pushing Rachel completely away from her. "Just shut up."

"Glad you're on the same page with me now, Fabray."

"I am?"

"Yeah, you are." Quin highly doubts this. "Now let's go find a party."

"A party?"

"Have you become that much of a square, Fabray?" Laurent shakes her head, "A party is a get together where…"

"Shut up."

"I think you are both forgetting a critical obstacle in our way. Ms Pillsbury is still stationed outside our door."

"Doesn't that woman have a life?" Lauren paces in front of the door.

"I'm pretty sure it solely entails irrationally following Schue around."

"We can just put her in a sleeper hold. She'll wake up good as new." Lauren stretches her arms above her head, limbering herself up for the fight, "Or, at least she should."

"Lauren, may I inquire where you learned such a dangerous move?"

"It's part of my Ultimate Fighter training."

"Ultimate Fighting!" Rachel stomps her foot just a little, "Lauren that is a very dangerous sport, do you even know the statistics…"

"Berry." Quinn grabs Rachel arm, "Honestly. Just let it go."

"We could always just send Berry in and have her talk her to sleep."

Quinn rolls her eyes, "I thought we were laying off Rachel?"

"Laying off or laying on?"

"Why don't you…"

Rachel interrupts the obvious pointless argument that is about to erupt, "There's always the fire escape."

Quinn's face pales as Rachel and Lauren walk closer to the balcony.

Why does New York City have to be littered with hotels that were once apartments? Why couldn't they just leave well enough alone?

"We're on the tenth floor."

"I'm glad you can count, Fabray."

"I just don't think it's a good idea."

Rachel grabs Quinn's hand, "Are you scared?"

"Scared?" Quinn tries to scoff but fails; especially when she notices her hands happen to be shaking. "I don't get scared."

"Yeah right." Lauren approaches the balcony. "What happened to being on top of the pyramid and all that other mindless dribble?"

"The pyramid isn't ten stories high."

"It'll be okay, Quinn!" Rachel pulls Quinn by the hand towards where Lauren already started her descent. "We'll just go slow."

Quinn shakes her head manically.

"Here, go first. That way if you fall Lauren will… um… catch you."

"I hate you right now, Berry."

Rachel shakes her head sloppily, "No you don't."

"Whatever, if I die, I just want you to remember that."

Quinn grips the side of the fire escape tightly as she begins her own descent, feeling the vibrations on the ladder as Rachel follows after her.

And then it happens. The railing shakes. The ground falls from beneath their feet.

And they fall.

Okay, so they were on the last flight of stairs and it wasn't really the ground but a rusty spot on the stair, but it's all the same when you're falling onto concrete.

Good thing Quinn has had extensive falling training.

Rachel. Not so much.

"I swear to God, Berry, get off of me!"

"I'm so sorry, Quinn, I hope in my clumsiness I didn't break any of your bones." Rachel breathes out onto Quinn's face.

Seriously. This is not happening.

"Well, it would help if you got off of me so I could check."

"Again, with the kink, Fabray." Lauren ambles over to the other two.

"You think you can get her off of me?"

"I could, she weighs about the same as my protein bars."

"Well?"

Lauren looks down at Quinn, "Well, what?"

"Are you going to move her?"

"She looks pretty comfortable."

Quinn rolls her eyes and attempts to sit herself up. "Berry, get the hell off of me."

"But, Quinn, you make a lovely body pillow. I myself sleep with one nightly; however, I think I'd much prefer you…"

Quinn quickly pulls herself to her feet, watching as Rachel falls/rolls onto the ground.

"What are we going to do now?" Quinn looks around the alleyway. Not exactly a place she'd choose to hang out.

Lauren shrugs, "I'm sneaking into Puckerman's room. I don't care what you losers do."

"But, Lauren. There will surely be a guard at his door as well, and we have thoroughly destroyed the way back up the fire escape." Rachel stands, trying to balance herself, "Which means that we are surely going to be caught as well!"

"There's always the sleeper hold."

"No, no. I cannot stand idly by while you use force to…"

"Why couldn't you be a quiet drunk?" Lauren shakes her head as she starts towards the end of the alley.

"Why didn't you just jump into his window on our way down?" Quinn follows after the girl.

"He's on the other side of the building and I for one do not want to know what's going down in Hummel's room."

Good point.

"Not the point, Zizes, you said party."

"Puckerman is my party. I don't care what you two losers do."

"I hate you," Quinn mutters as she marches after the larger girl.

"I heard that," but she doesn't turn towards Quinn, "When are you going to learn, Barbie, this is high school, none of it is supposed to make sense."

"What the hell does that mean?"

Lauren shrugs as she reaches the door back into the hotel. "Maybe you should stop taking it all so seriously. Unclench your fists, maybe some other body parts, and relax, because you're seriously cramping my style." Lauren glances behind them, "And you might want to take care of your pet midget."

Quinn turns around to see Rachel heaving what must be the entirety of her body weight onto the curb side.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Lauren shakes her head, "Girl's pathetic." They start towards the retching form. "She has the alcohol tolerance of a toddler."

"To match her clothing," Quinn mutters in agreeance.

The girls walk through the door of the lobby. Maybe Ms Pillsbury has fallen asleep, or scurried off with Schue somewhere seedy.

"Well, well, well. Look at who we've got here."

"Coach Sylvester?"

"Oh no." Rachel's gulp could be heard across the foyer.

Quinn tries to stand between Rachel and the towering woman. The last thing they need is Rachel to vomit on the Cheerio's coach. They wouldn't make it out alive.

"What are you doing here?"

" I heard that William had scrounged up the cash to bring your rag tag team all the way to the big city. I assume by offering favours of the unsavoury kind to older woman, but I digress. I am here to bask in your expected and very timely defeat."

Quinn rolls her eyes, "We got third."

"Which isn't first. And here I thought I taught you better, Q."

She had. But, really, Quinn, no, the whole of humankind, can not deal with another Rachel Berry rant over the matter.

"We really have to be going." Quinn tries to push Rachel towards the elevator, Lauren trailing behind her.

"Not so fast," Sue grabs Laurens arm.

Bad life decision.

Before either Quinn or Rachel could blink, Sue Slyvester was on her back with Lauren Zizes on top of her, in the middle of a hotel lobby, in the midst of New Year City.

Like I said early. Days like today don't happen very often.

Rachel's screams are immediately muffled by Quinn's hand, as Quinn stands dumbfounded.

"No one touches the Zizes."

"Get off of me you raging heifer! You smell of failure!"

"Oh no. You did not."

Quinn grabs Lauren's fist before it can meet Sue's face but the pure force of it flips her over the two wrestling woman.

"Fuck." Quinn lands on the floor, smacking her head on the way.

"Oh my God! Quinn!" Rachel rushes around the hazard zone as security finally begins to approach the group. "Quinn, please don't be dead."

"This has to be the most dangerous school trip ever recorded," Quinn mumbles as she begins to sit up.

"Oh, Quinn!" Rachel drops down to her knees and hugs Quinn close to her. "I am glad you did not perish."

By this time the security guards have already hoisted Lauren and Sue to their feet, attempting to keep them separated.

"Are you seriously crying?"

"I can't figure out if it's the alcohol or feelings."

Quinn pats the girl's back awkwardly, "Uh, it's definitely the alcohol."

"Disgusting, Q, you can do better.

Quinn pushes Rachel just a little bit and smooths out any imaginary wrinkles on her t-shirt. "Nothing is going on between Berry and me."

Rachel turns towards Quinn, "You, Quinn Fabray, are a jerk."

The door closes behind them after a few more apologies to Ms Pillsbury. Rachel races into the washroom, slamming the door in her wake.

"Rachel!" Quinn bangs on the bathroom door. "Open up. Open the damn door"

"Go…away, Quinn."

"Damnit Rachel," more excessive knocking, "What if you die in there, how will we know?"

Okay, so maybe that was just a little bit overdramatic.

"Quinn," Rachel pauses for reasons Quinn doesn't really want to know, "you're beginning to sound like me."

"Shut up Berry and open the door."

"No!" Quinn smacks the door in aggravation. "You're mean, Quinn!"

"Fine." Quinn kicks the door and turns away from the door. "You just sit in there alone then!"

"I will!" Quinn hears Rachel shout as she sits herself on the side of the bed closest to the bathroom.

Why does Rachel Berry have to be so fucking difficult?

"Look, I know why you're crying, Fabray."

Quinn looks suspiciously at Lauren who sits next to her on the bed, "You do?"

"But you can't blame the man. I mean, look at me." Quinn's mouth hangs slightly open, "I'm sure he would have committed to you too. I mean, if he hadn't met the Zizes and if you had put a little bit more love on your bones."

"What?" is all Quinn is able to make out.

"Don't feel bad. I mean, I'm sure Finn has his finer points." Lauren bites at her lip, "Well, I mean, he's a little dull and the boy has some serious issues and stuff."

Clearing her throat, Quinn wills the silent tears to stop. "You can stop."

"I mean, at least you both can be in love with Rachel together."

Quinn jumps up from the bed, "Excuse me." Pointing a finger in Lauren's direction, Quinn backs up towards the wall, "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Please. Zizes knows all, Fabray."

Quinn sits on the other bed, facing Lauren. Rachel's dry heaving still making sporadic appearances.

Taking deep breaths, Quinn forces herself to look up at Lauren, "Finn isn't in love with Rachel."

"Excuse me, Zizes sees the love sparks when those two do their disgusting staring."

Quinn's eyes narrow, "No, excuse me. That's my boyfriend you're talking about."

"You're right," Lauren smirks, "You sure showed me how much Finn doesn't love Rachel."

Quinn sighs, running her hand through her hair, "I am not in love with Rachel." Quinn looks away from Lauren's smirking face, "Why don't you go to sleep?"

Lauren raises an eyebrow, "And why don't you, Fabray?"

"You're really going to make me say it, aren't you?"

Lauren shrugs.

"Okay, fine, one of us has to stay up and make sure Rachel is okay."

"I can do it."

Quinn waves her off, "No. I won't be able to sleep anyways."

"And why's that?"

"Seriously shut up."

Lauren rolls her eyes and climbs up the bed. "I could put you in a sleeper hold to help you with that, Blondie."

But nothing else is said between the two.

"Quinn."

"Rachel?"

"I think we need to talk. Now I believe you feel that your actions are justified and that you were just…"

"How did you get into my house?"

"That's not really imperative right now."

Quinn shuts her math book and sits up in her bed, "How did you find my room?"

"Quinn, I really need to get this monologue out the way I rehearsed it."

"Oh." Confused, but still a little intrigued, Quinn crosses her legs on her bed and nods, "Okay, continue."

"While it has been a few weeks since you so abruptly ended our tentative friendship."

"Wait," Quinn holds up her hand, "I did no such thing." Okay, so she kind of did. "I just told you the truth."

"Yes, and I fear that our definitions of the truth are not similar in the least."

Quinn crosses her arms in front of her, "If this is about Finn, you can leave right now."

"This isn't about Finn."

This really grabs Quinn's attention.

"It's not?"

Rachel shakes her head, "You, Quinn, are ambitious and resourceful and, well, frankly, quite a bit scary…"

"Is this going somewhere?"

"You're not going to be a real estate agent. You're going to be something great." Rachel pauses, "Well, if you do become a real estate agent, you'll be a great real estate agent. Not one here in Lima where the house prices are dismal. I imagine somewhere near…"

But Rachel doesn't get to finish her sentence and I guess Quinn will never know how the monologue did end, because Quinn moves in a way she can't remember ever moving before and presses her lips tenderly against Rachel's, cutting off all speech instantly.