My Internal Monologue Chapter 2, a glee fanfic

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.

"No."

"Just freaking roll the ball!"

"Okay, why don't you do it, smartass!"

"Wha-Why me? You have the ball, just do it!"

"This was your idea!"

"Yes, and I'm telling you it's perfect. You can do this!"

"Then you do it."

"It has to be you!"

"The freaking dog's freaking me out, you do it!"

"No, you – oh shit!"

"Pixie!"

There must be something wrong with me.

After the 'Lopez Phenomenon', as Mike so fondly calls it, Puck had been bugging me for weeks on end to go for the kill; starting with pulling the strings of fate to make our paths cross. Our being Santana's and mine.

"Listen to me babe," Puck grabbed my shoulders to make me face him. I can tell that his confidence with the way he just called me is this high because Kurt is eagerly supporting him. "With the way she's guarded by vicious brunettes here at school, it's just impossible for the two of you to meet naturally."

He was saying it with a serious look on his face that I couldn't help but tilt my head in amusement.

"Are you on drugs or something? It'll seriously cost you in the long run, you know. I bet it'll make you unable to do things… naturally." I ended with a wink.

He abruptly let go of my shoulders and mouthed a 'what' before Kurt replaced him in front of me.

"Quinn, stop messing with his head. He's right with the vicious brunettes, you absolutely have no chance of ever meeting Santana Lopez officially here at school."

"Kurt I don – "

"And it's been two weeks but she's not trying out for Cheerios, Q! This is serious!" Brittany shook my side and I was really glad they all managed to drag me in an empty classroom before they spewed all this unnecessary drama towards me.

I really don't get why they're fussing about me and Santana Lopez meeting. I mean, she can totally make me wait for her at the ends of the world and I'd be just squeaky fine.

"What is with you guys with me and her meeting?"

They all looked at me flabbergasted. Kurt took my hand and I knew all four of us will miss lunch because of this.

"You two are fated to be together." Kurt gave me the look he gives whenever he sees that Blaine person he's been crushing on and I wanted to puke right there and then. He must've mistaken my grimace to confusion because he continued unabashed.

"Do you know what fate means?"

"Uh, yeah. The development of events outside a person's control, regarded as determined by a supernatural power." I recited. Puck and Britt's faces were priceless.

"I – uh. Yes exactly. And we – " Kurt motioned to the three of them. " are that 'supernatural power'".

I'm getting dizzier by the minute at how this is turning out.

"Look, Q, I really think you two are like Romeo and Juliet. It'll be sad if you two don't even meet." I tried to not cry with frustration at what Brittany just said because this is really going on loops and twirls and… why are we here again?

When I saw that telltale sign that Puck's about to put his two cents in, I hurriedly muttered "Alright, let me hear what egghead has to say", which I immediately regretted the moment he opened his mouth again.

Summary, (as I munched happily on my sandwich 'cause I'd be damned if I missed my lunch and screw them if they want to, but I won't) they want me and Santana to become 'endgame', whatever that is.

I really didn't understand anything that spewed forth for the next ten minutes. But I did get some words here and there, 'cause hey, I'm involved.

So, not in school. Vicious brunettes. Mike agreed. Against Sam's will, but will be there. Cedes maybe coming. Depends on Kurt. Santana has a dog. Learn soccer. Two weeks time. Brittany can –

Whoah. Wait.

Santana has a dog?

"Santana has a dog?" I was careful not to drop the rest of my lunch.

".. and then, we can – Huh? Oh, yes. She has one dog." Puck was saying. I looked at Kurt which only nodded in affirmation.

"I think it's a Chihuahua. I overheard her talking about how cute her baby is and that it's one of her number one priorities in moving back; to secure her precious Pixie. Yep, definitely a Chihuahua, ain't that cute?" Kurt was all smiles.

"Charming." I muttered lowly and went back to munching.

Not that I hate dogs, I love them! I marvel at how much fun people have with them. I could watch them run and frolic for hours on end!

Just, from afar, you know?

And, the fun ends when they start approaching you and starts looking at you funny and lick you and start nibbling at you and gahhh!

I really think it's because Charity rubbed off some of her cat-survival-instincts on me. Or was it Lord Tubbington? I have to start avoiding going to Brittany's house every weekend.

"Well, anyway, that's not a problem, right?" Puck's worried look sent me out of my reverie.

"Oh, ofcourse!" Be convincing. Be terribly convincing! It's a Chihuahua, it's small, you can do this! For the sake of getting them off your back and meeting that wonderful specimen, you can do this! "I mean, psh, dog. Not a problem." I laughed a little for effect.

There's definitely something wrong with me.

So here we are after one week of faux playing soccer and one week of re-convincing me that this is a fool-proof plan and that it's a one-time big-time thing. The five-man team is settled in Mike's house.

It's a pleasant house. Wonderful garden. Fine taste in modern art. Amazing parents (Although Mrs. Julia Chang could use a mellowing down on the overzealousness).

Ah, just the place to be.

One thing's making this all sour and that's the incredible fool-proof plan Puck, and apparently Brittany, has in store for me.

"Alright, game time boys!" Puck looked at me and Brittany. " And wonderful girls,"

I rolled my eyes and just joined the mini huddle they're doing.

"We know where we all gotta be and what we all gotta do." We all nodded. This will be the longest fifteen minutes or so of my life.

Puck then placed his hand in front of us, and – oh great, a team prep. "Fabray for the win!"

Mike, Sam and Brittany placed their hands on his and repeated "Fabray for the win!" with a boom and strutted out to their places. I was left standing there. Horrified.

Puck smirked at me and decided to drag me since I seem to have forgotten why I'm friends with these bozos. I sighed in exasperation to let Puck know that I am still 100% against all this but for the benefit of not being bugged again, I will do this.

Better get this over with.

The plan is simple really. Pretend to play soccer in the vast lawn of the Chang's. Or atleast do some soccer thing with the soccer ball. I still don't get the game, but I learned a few ball handling techniques. Nothing fancy, but Cedes said I looked hot doing it so. Yeah.

Whenever Puck's phone vibrates it means Britt, who's manning the window up Mike's room, can see Santana in her massive house and we have to 'act rigorously' to catch her attention.

If Sam's phone vibrates it means Santana's approaching her front door and that means he has to signal Mike to 'over kick the ball at my direction', and I have to miss it, therefore sending the ball to the other lawn, which will prompt me to walk over and Santana to go out and meet me.

Yey.

So we formed the magic circle, with my back to Santana's house, Sam and Puck at my far sides and Mike directly opposite me.

Problem one happened two minutes after we started tossing the ball across each other.

"What if she's not home, man?" Sam chuckled at what he said. "That would suck."

Damn right it would and I would be sooo frustrated over the weekend, but they don't have to know that.

Puck froze and looked at Mike accusingly. Mike held his hand up while the ball rested under his foot.

"She just had her morning run, and she hasn't left their house since then and up to you guys arriving. And I haven't seen her lackeys' car so she's definitely home."

"Well, what if she left her house through some hidden passageway?" Puck's panic look brings entertainment to my bones. He turned to look at Sam. "You guys said she's like a yakuza daughter, and that house might as well be booby trapped or something. And they have to have exits incase a shootout happens. Like a maze or something. And – "

"Egghead, chill." I cut him off. It's really unfair of him to be acting up his nerves while I'm the one who should be rightfully nervous. Not that, again, they have to know.

He was about to open his mouth again, but Sam quickly ran to where Mike is, took the ball and aimed at me in blind panic.

I went from fake composed to purely alarmed.

"She's going out. Game time!"

I knew I squeaked. I heard myself. But the embarrassment can wait. I instinctively dodged the ball and as planned, it went pass me.

Problem two happened in the form of a fence.

The ball did go past me. But it wasn't high enough to go over the sad excuse of a fence the Chang's have. It's built low, like Santana's but Sam kicked the ball a little too short to make it. I can almost hear Mike scold Sam with "And that's why I was supposed to kick it!"

I sighed in both relief and disappointment. There goes fate.

As I approached the ball, I felt Puck quickly pull me down to a squat.

"What in the – "

"Shh! We can still do this!" He whispered as he reached for the ball and handed it to me.

I looked at him and the house and then I saw it.

Is that…Pixie?

Brown beady eyes gleamed at our direction. I can see the muscles on its feet rumbling as it stood up and wow, that is not a Chihuahua.

Puck seemed to not mind that there's a giant dog by Santana's porch. Better inform the idiot before I faint.

"There's a dog." I whispered and I sure hope Puck heard me over himself instructing me on what to do next, but hell no.

"Yea, and we talked about it and you – "

"That's not a Chihuahua."

"It's a bullmastiff, I think. So – "

"It's NOT a Chihuahua." I can feel my strained voice and my nerves and my lungs and my heart and oh goodness it's not a cute little Chihuahua! Kurt must die.

"Yes, and you only need to roll the ball so it wouldn't be suspicious. Now go on. Roll the ball."