Chapter 3: Sidekicked

A.N. The scene about to take place is brutal, vulgar, and fucking hilarious.

Disclaimer : I don't own glee. This kick ass story is mine though.

-Jessica

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"Aye, Quinn, are you allergic to nuts?" Mercedes asked eerily calm. Utterly confused, Quinn answered.

"No. Why?" She had now made the mistake of uncovering herself. If eyes could shoot lasers, Britt would have completely melted off Quinn's whole pelvis.

"Because I'm about to kick yours into your throat!" Mercedes all but growled. She lunged at Quinn, who scampered away. Brittany grabbed Mercedes, she wanted to torture Quinn some more.

"Now . Now. Let's not be brash."

"Can I at least say goodbye to them. You know, sense I'm not going to have kids now I figured it be okay." Quinn asked dumbly. That reminder set Mercedes off.

She walked over to the girl. Promptly lifted her foot. And swung. Hard.

Quinn's eyes rolled to the back of her head. She fell to the ground whimpering in immense pain. It felt like someone started a forest fire on her lap. It hurt so much she couldn't even say 'ow'. Then she realized she didn't have any idea what this was about.

"It's okay you already have one." Brittany told her.

"Have one what?"

"You got a chick pregnant, buddy. Remember Santana?"

Quinn's eyes shot open. Oops.

This action gave her Déjà vu.

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"Okay. So you're telling me, I got Santana pregnant?" Quinn asked. They all nodded for the nth time. "How?" Quinn was experiencing a major brain fart. She couldn't wrap her head around how she got the girl in front her pregnant.

"How did you graduate at the top of our class?" Kurt asked astonished.

"Told you we would need the pamphlets from ." Brittany mumbled into Mercedes ear.

"Is she always like this?" Santana asked, still nobody acknowledging Quinn's stupidity. Everyone nodded.

"OK. We're going to go through this one more time." Sam stood up gesturing for Quinn to listen. "Quinn you have what we liked to call a di-" Quinn interrupted. Her brain fart seemingly over.

She looked at the group in front of her. Mike, Sam, Kurt, Britt, Mercedes. And Santana. Santana. She had this weird pregnancy glow to her but Quinn thought she looked like an angel. This being the first time she saw her without a drunken daze. It was pleasant.

"Okay, if you're going to keep the baby, how do I know you can support 'my child'?" They looked at the blonde like she had grown two heads. The group then heard a sadistic laugh. They turned to the steaming Latina in unison. She stood up and stalked to the visibly pale blonde. Maybe she shouldn't have said that.

"First of all, what do you mean 'your child'? You're the only person with a dick I've slept with in a long time. You're the 'father'." She poked her finger into the blonde's chest with each passing word. "Second, I'm pretty sure I make more than you."

"How?" Quinn asked, surprised by this new piece of information.

Santana walked over to Quinn's flat screen. Turning to some channel Quinn had know Idea existed.

Then something unexpected happened.

There Santana Lopez was looking seductively at a camera in sexy lingerie. Strutting down a runway. With black wings on her back. And for some reason, that Quinn's not questioning she had a black and red tail. The blonde felt something stir within her. And under her belt. Still staring at the T.V. she excused herself from the room and headed towards the bathroom.

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Quinn walked back into the room to find that everyone had left except Mike. He looked at her expectantly.

"What?"

He shook his head in answer.

"Are you mad at me?" She asked annoyed.

"No. I'm just disappointed. I mean come on, this isn't funny Quinn."

Quinn visibly disagreed.

"Aww, come on Mike. Lighten up, have a sense of humor. This is pretty funny." She gave him a lopsided smile.

"Really, Quinn? You got a girl pregnant!" She had never seen him this serious before. She didn't like it.

"I understand that-"

"No you don't! Don't even try an act like you find this comprehensible!"

"Mike."

"Quinn." She sighed. He headed towards the door.

"I have a dance class to teach. Call me when you figure...whatever out." With that he left. The blonde fell into the couch in a messy heap.

She knew it was serious. She really did. But it was too serious for her. And when things get too serious for Lucy Quinn Fabray, She does one of two things. One, run and hide. Two, pretend they aren't as serious as everyone is making them out to be. For this she was choosing the latter. But, then again, it's never too late to change her mind.