An authors note...Wow guys, you did it again...totally amazed me with such a wonderful response. Thank you all. A nice long chapter with a lot more Artie/Quinn interaction...but also a little unexpected drama to liven things up a bit. I will also be throwing in a few small references from the back nine episodes, but only if and as they pertain to this AU.
Warning for the use of some very strong language toward the end of this chapter. It is Puck after all.
Beauty and the Geek
Quinn waited impatiently for the garage door to lift up and welcome her into the much needed coolness of the shady haven. "Okay, this is just getting ridiculous now," she groaned when all she got was a rush of even hotter air. "It isn't even officially summer yet, and already we've had five days over ninety degrees." She glanced over her shoulder to look at Artie. "In a row."
A helpless shrug was all he could offer as he waited for Quinn to push Caroline, stroller and all, into the house, before silently following behind. Artie wasn't sure he could do much more than that, not with the way his parched tongue was currently sticking to the roof of his mouth. It was really freakin' hot out.
"It looks as though we're going to have to hold off on taking Caroline for her morning walk," Quinn griped as walked into the kitchen, wrapping a thin receiving blanket over the slightly sweaty baby, now that they were inside the air conditioned house. Artie looked up from his place in front of the ice dispenser and gave a frown of disappointment. Those early morning walks with the two of them were just about the best part of his day. Quinn returned with a sympathetic shrug, "At least for a little bit."
Artie wheeled over to the table. "Here," he said, offering her a refreshing glass of ice water.
"Thanks," Quinn smiled, taking a sip.
"Maybe not though." His slightly cryptic suggestion made Quinn's face wrinkle in confusion. Weren't they just in the middle of a casual exchange? Artie couldn't help but chuckle at the expression his girlfriend...it'll take some time getting used to saying that...was giving him. "I mean, we may not have to do away with them all together. We could just go earlier, or start walking at night instead."
It was barely eight-thirty when they left, how much earlier were they supposed to go? "But what about when I work? And I usually don't get home from my own classes until after nine," Quinn returned, referring to the summer job she picked up teaching dance classes at the studio Abbey goes to. And since she'd proved herself to be such an accomplished dancer, she was even given the opportunity to take some classes for herself...free of charge.
Quinn sat mulling over her options, or lack thereof, when an obscure idea suddenly popped into her head. "The mall. It's big, it's close, it's air conditioned and it's open early enough for us to go at our normally scheduled time."
"You wanna go crusin' the court with the old folks?" Artie quipped teasingly.
"Not exactly," she giggled and swatted him playfully on the arm. "There are plenty of moms with strollers walking at the same time. We'd fit right in."
"Sure. I can go rolling along with Grandpa and Grandma in their scooters, while you and the other hot mommies breeze past us," he countered, his tone falling flat.
It didn't happen very often, but on occasion, some of Artie's pent up frustrations would slip out in the form of a bitter retort or remark. And Quinn would usually try to be understanding and accepting and comfort him if he needed or just simply let it slide. But not today. Instead, she flashed him an innocent smirk and asked, "You think I'm hot?"
The new tactic worked, and within seconds, Artie's mood lightened considerably. He was adorably rendered speechless, unable to hide the widening grin or pink flush that was quickly tinging his cheeks.
Lucky for him, the awkwardness only lasted a brief moment, and Artie Abrams was never so happy to see the interruption that was his little sister...even if she was currently all mopey and sulky. "What's up Squirt?"
Abbey gave a nondescript shrug in response as she walked around the remaining four unoccupied chairs at the table for one seat in particular. Snapping off the brakes of her brothers chair, she moved him back just enough to allow herself access to his lap, which she promptly climbed into. Then, she leaned forward, elbows on the table top, and rested her head heavily in her hands. "Mom won't let me go swimming again today."
Artie began to run his fingertips up and down her back, just short of tickling...his secret weapon if his words weren't enough to snap her out of her funk. "It's too hot out there," he told her comfortingly.
That was the exact same answer, in the exact same tone their mother gave, and not at all what Abbey wanted to hear. "What's the fun of having a pool, if you can't swim in it?" she grumbled.
"I'll take you swimming," Artie promised. "Later this afternoon, when it cools down a little."
Abbey turned her head to look at her brother and let out another sigh of disappointment, "But that won't be 'til after dinner."
Even without approaching their mother on the subject, he knew, "Best I can do, Squirt."
Abbey knew it too, and it was better than nothing. She glanced at Quinn with a hopeful look on her face. "Will you come too?"
"I'd love to Abbey, but I have to work tonight," she regretfully informed the little girl, who's grin was immediately turned upside down. "But Artie and I were just talking about going to the mall..."
"We were?" he cut in, perplexed.
"Yes we were," Quinn playfully reminded him, then turned her attention back to the child on his lap. "Would you like to come with us?"
Abbey twisted her lips to the side in that contemplative way that made her look exactly like a honey-haired, feminine version of Artie. "Can I get a pretzel?" She was asking him of course, and big brother could never say no to baby sister. Artie let out a small chuckle and nodded. "And a lemonade?" Another nod and now she was grinning from ear to ear. "Then can we go to the food court for ice cream after lunch?"
"Don't press your luck," Quinn warned teasingly.
"What makes you think you're getting lunch?" Artie quipped, just as playfully.
Abbey shot a dramatic eye roll her brothers way, which made Quinn nearly double over with laughter, but enthusiastically agreed to go. "Good. Now you can help us pick your brother out some appropriate summer attire."
Looking down at himself, Artie demanded, "What's wrong with what I've got on?"
"Well first of all," Quinn started, eyeing him pointedly, "your shirt is drenched with sweat." Okay yeah, there was really no getting around that one. "And," she continued, her tone taking on a slightly sympathetic resonance, "I'm pretty sure you wear those pants every other day."
Abbey turned and wrinkled her nose in his face. "What? Mom washes them," he countered defensively.
"Artie, you need some shorts," Quinn stated imploringly.
"I have shorts," he shot back.
"Owning three pairs of swim trunks is not exactly what I was referring to," she joked lightheartedly. Only Artie didn't find it all that funny.
"I just don't like wearing them," he mumbled weakly.
"I know," Quinn let out with a small sigh and flashed him a smile of understanding. The only time she'd ever actually seen Artie in shorts were the handful of times they'd been swimming together. And even then, her view was obscured by the water. He tended to already be in the pool before she even came outside, and waited until she went inside or had her back turned, before getting out. The rest of the time, he made sure to have his towel wrapped securely around his lap.
In retrospect, the closest Quinn had come to viewing the outline of Artie's legs was when he was wearing those skin tight spandex pants during the Kiss number. She really didn't think they looked all that different from how she'd imagined limbs that hadn't been used in over eight years to look. In fact, she found them kind of cute...bony knees and all. "But maybe we can find something...anything you might feel comfortable enough to wear, that will prevent you from melting to the seat of your chair on days like today."
Abbey nodded in agreement with Quinn and Caroline let out a high pitched squawk. Artie was still hesitant, but how was he supposed to argue with that? It was two and a half against one.
"Fine," he finally acquiesced, albeit grumpily, "but I'm not trying anything on."
...
Distracting the girls and shifting their focus away from him was much easier than Artie had thought it would be. He made sure to only pass stores he knew would pique their interests. And when that technique began to wane, he'd simply wander into the infant section of the nearest department store, and buy himself another thirty or so minutes.
"Okay Artie, that's enough," Quinn warned after they suspiciously end up swathed in yet another sea of pink and ruffles.
"But they're just her size," he argued, reaching back into the car seat part of the stroller system and slipping the tiny pink crib shoes from Caroline's feet. Artie innocently batted his baby blues up at Quinn, much in the same way she'd witnessed Abbey do on more than one occasion, then dangled the shoes between his fingers. "They look like miniature ballet slippers." Damn him...they were ridiculously precious. "And besides," he continued by tossing them into his lap and taking off for nearest cashier, "in a few weeks I'll be her Godfather which gives me the authority, under some obscure holy law, to spoil her rotten."
Quinn bit back her laughter, because really, he was being totally infuriating...and utterly adorable. "Whatever," she returned with an indifferent shrug, then broke out into a wide grin, "because as soon as you're done paying for those, Mister, we are so going upstairs to the young men's department."
Artie knew his time was up. Between Caroline and Abbey, he'd already blown through almost forty dollars. It was bad enough that date night on Friday was probably going to consist of whatever his mom was making for dinner, followed by popcorn and a movie in all the splendor of the family room couch, but now, he was still expected to go shop for himself.
"Hold up...they make capris for dudes?"
Quinn was vaguely curious about how her boyfriend...wow, that was going to take some getting used to...became familiar enough with the term 'capri' to actually use it correctly, but quickly shrugged that thought away.
"I think they're technically called three-quarter pants, but yeah, it's pretty much the same concept," she replied, carefully gauging his response. When he didn't give one, Quinn motioned to the mannequin behind her, adorned in denim Bermudas, t-shirt, and a plaid top, "Or you could go with this style."
Artie frowned and grumbled, "Looks like something right out of Finn's closet."
Quinn glanced over her shoulder again. Shit, it really did. "They come in khaki too," she suggested apologetically and grabbed for the nearest pair of Bermuda's she could find.
Artie compared the two items Quinn was holding. Sure, he was a tiny dude, but the Bermuda's were shorts and would probably only hit him right at the knee. The cropped pair would definitely go past, yet still qualify as 'proper summer attire'. They were a bit more 'cargo' than he would have liked, but he picked them anyway. "I'll get those."
Quinn smiled triumphantly and dropped the item into Artie's lap, then took off through the maze of racks in search of something to wear them with. "I know you already have an impressive collection of t-shirts, especially for someone who wears dress shirts nearly every single day of his life," she intoned, pulling a snug fitting, short sleeved, v-neck Henley, out from behind her back, "But I think this would look really nice on you."
The way she emphasized her words caught Artie's attention, and he looked up to find her staring. Whether she was just pleased with her amazing fashion choice or truly liked what she saw when she imagined him in this outfit, wasn't entirely clear, but Artie decided right then and there that he'd wear just about anything if it got Quinn to keep looking at him like that.
Leaning forward, she held the shirt up against his chest. Their eyes locked and for a split second Artie suddenly forgot how to breathe. "This deep shade of gray has a lot of blue in it that will totally accentuate your eyes."
It sounded like something that would come out of Kurt's mouth, but Artie was only able to focus on the sultry whisper that came from Quinn and the way her warm breath tickled his ear. "I like it," he managed to gasp out.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Her smile widened and she continued to move forward until their lips were only inches apart...
"Can we go get a pretzel now?"
Quinn's forehead dropped onto Artie's shoulder and they both started to giggle. "In a few minutes," she announced as she straightened up and turned toward Abbey, "we just need to hit the shoe section first."
And before he knew it, Quinn was behind his chair. "I have plenty of shoes Quinn," he balked in protest, but kept his hands clasped securely in his lap. She was kind of pushing him at breakneck speed.
It was obvious to anyone who had seen Artie Abrams on a daily basis, that he seemed to have amassed quite an array of pairs over the past few years, though not nearly as big as his vintage rock tee collection, but far more than he actually needed...especially for someone in his particular situation.
"Yeah, but nothing that will go with this outfit," she argued, pulling him to a stop in front of the men's tennis shoes. Quinn placed her hands on her hips and gave him a pointed glare. "This look isn't exactly orthopedic loafer chic."
Artie couldn't help but agree, especially after glancing down at the dark colored runners he was currently wearing. Then he remembered what was hidden away in the back of his closet. "Would the white Converse we wear for Glee club performances work?"
"Perfectly," Quinn returned enthusiastically. Artie smiled back at her, not only had he avoided busting the bank, but he also saved himself the humiliation of having a salesperson fumble to make his unresponsive feet fit into shoes he wouldn't be able to feel anyway. "Now you just need some new socks that aren't calf length, or argyle," she added, and a minute later, tossed a pack of low-cut anklets to the pile on his lap. "Now we're done."
"I um, can't wear these," Artie stated, looking down at the package.
"Why not?" she asked, more than just a little curious.
"They're too short, and tight," he answered, fingering the trim for emphasis. Even if his ankles were probably not much larger than her wrists, any type of elastic digging into his skin was a definite no-no.
"So? Just wear the shoes without socks" Quinn suggested casually as she placed the package back on the peg.
"Can't do that either," Artie intoned, almost apologetically. He could almost hear his mothers voice filtering through his head, lecturing about rough canvas and stitching and seams that cause blisters and pressure sores that lead to infection and...
She'd never thought that picking out socks would be such an issue for him. Maybe that was why he was so reluctant to buy summer clothes in the first place. "It's okay," Quinn's soft voice rang out, "we'll figure something out." Even if that meant popping into Target on their way home to pick up a package of those basic white quarter socks with the soft cotton band around the ankle instead of elastic.
Artie flashed Quinn an appreciative smile, which quickly turned into a chuckle when Caroline began to fuss. "But right now I think we all need to get out of this store."
...
After Artie made his, hopefully last, major purchase of the day, the quartet strolled back out into the mall in search of their snack...which if judging by their noses, was just around the next corner.
There was much debate about who should pay. Artie argued that his mother gave him money for this very situation, but little did he know that she also slipped Quinn a twenty as well. Quinn won out in the end and payed for their treat, consisting of five pretzels, two drinks, one for Abbey and one for her and Artie to share, as well as an assortment of dipping sauces.
"Do you mind if I go in there?" Quinn asked, pointing to the store on her left as they were just about to pass it.
Artie looked up at the sign. Sure, he was comfortable enough with his masculinity to escort Quinn inside, but he really didn't need his little sister tattling to their mother that 'Artie went into the bra store'. "Sure, I'll stay out here with the girls." He spied a seating area a little farther down and motioned over to it. "We'll be right over there."
As soon as they got settled, Abbey dug into her treat while Artie carefully scooped Caroline out of her car seat and into his lap. "Aren't you gonna eat yours?" Abbey was able to ask amidst all of her chewing.
"In a bit," Artie chuckled in reply, then glanced down at the bottle he was holding, "just as soon as Caroline is done with this."'
Though logical, Abbey wasn't all that satisfied with her brothers reasoning. She took pity on him moments later and broke off a piece of her own pretzel to share with him. "Thanks."
"Your welcome," Abbey beamed, turning on her heel to return to her seat. But as she did, she misjudged it's stability and ended up with lemonade all over her lap.
"I'm sorry Artie."
"That's okay Squirt," he assured her as he gently pulled the bottle from Caroline's mouth and shifted her onto his shoulder so he'd have at least one hand free. "Just use the napkins that came with the pretzels."
Abbey looked inside the bag next to her. "There aren't any."
Artie began to search through the diaper bag, but couldn't find an extra burp cloth either. "I'll go get some napkins," he offered before snapping Caroline back into her seat. "Here," he added, handing her the small pink towel that was draped across his shoulder, "use this in the meantime."
"But it smells like baby spit," she returned with a wrinkle of her nose.
"Fine," Artie sighed, "just keep an eye on Caroline. I'll be right back."
He was only gone a minute, and only took his eyes off the pair for a second while he was forced to ask the kid behind the smoothie counter for the napkins because they were out of his reach. So when he turned back to see a familiar form walking up to Caroline's stroller, he wasn't surprised.
But maybe he should have been.
"Hey Noah, what's up?"
"What's up?," Puck shouted back, causing Artie to flinch. "What's up is that I come to mall on my fucking break to...that's none of your business...to find your kid sister sitting alone with my daughter."
"I was right over there," Artie pointed behind his shoulder, "getting some napkins."
"Napkins? That's your excuse for leaving my kid with...how old is she anyway...seven...?"
"She's eight," Artie cut in, but his honesty only seemed to fuel Puck's rage, and he stiffened defensively. "But I was barely fifteen feet away, and could see them the entire time."
"That's great that your fucking eyes work, but what the hell were you gonna do if it was somebody else walking off with my kid?" he challenged loudly.
Artie's heart sank. Suddenly his mind drifted back to that time Abbey got separated from them at the grocery store, when she was three. That terrified him so much, he didn't let her out of his sight again until she six. Sure everything turned out okay then...but what if it hadn't? And what if it hadn't been Puck, this time?
"That's enough Noah."
Puck spun on his heel to face Quinn. Neither boy had heard her walk up to them, nor had they noticed how long she'd been standing there. "And where the hell were you all this time?"
"In there, trying to find a comfortable nursing bra that fits," she countered bitingly.
"Why didn't you just take her with you?" Noah snarled as he motioned to Caroline.
"Because I didn't need to," Quinn answered, glancing down and to her right. "I trust Artie."
"You trust a fucking cripple to take care of our daughter?"
"I said that was enough," Quinn managed to ground out under her breath, before her throat constricted.
"Why are you always defending him?" Puck demanded smugly. "You feel bad for the poor gimp nerd...or maybe..." he paused, watching as Quinn slowly lowered her eyes. "Wait...you like him?"
"Of course she likes him," Abbey blurted assertively, even though her eyes glistening with tears. "She's his girlfriend."
"You're dating him?"
Puck incredulous jab was followed by Artie's even more surprised, "You didn't tell him?"
Quinn took in a steadying breath and focused on her words. There was a small crowd of people starting to gather, but all she wanted to do was explain herself to Artie. "Everything happened kinda fast...I mean, we've been dating two weeks now..." It was clear that any attempt at an apology was futile. His expression turned pained and his eyes drifted down to the floor, bringing Quinn to kneel down beside him. "...and have yet to tell our other friends..."
"I did," he muttered in reply, eyes slowly lifting, but never meeting hers. "Tweeted about it as soon as we got home from our first date."
It was Quinn's turn to be shocked. How did she not know this? Oh yeah...she was having too much fun with Artie to be bothered with anything else.
"Real rich Fabray," Puck managed to snicker while thinking of a way to get current with the trends without laying his life story out for the whole world to see. Who the fuck would actually care if his dog has fleas?
"It's not like you've been around enough to notice anyway," Quinn shot back over her shoulder.
"Oh, is that how we're gonna play this little game?" he queried, not bothering to wait for a reply. "Fine. You want me around? I'll be around, tomorrow night 6pm. Have her bag packed."
"You can't," Quinn cried out as she stood up. "It's not your weekend."
"Maybe it should be," he challenged. "In fact maybe I should have every weekend from now on...ya know, so you two love birds can have some time alone."
Quinn glared at him, "That's not fair Noah, we have an agreement."
"Well I'm not happy with that agreement any more," he countered pointedly. "She's my kid too and I think I should have more say or whatever in how she's raised." Puck squared his shoulders and added, "Tomorrow, six sharp," before stalking off.
"Noah," Quinn called after him. "Noah!" With a heavy sigh she turned back to the traumatized pair, "Artie...I'm so sor..."
He cut her of with a tug of his chair, "Can we just get out of here, please."
Quinn couldn't even manage a nod, all she could do was follow silently behind.
ANx2...OMG, I must apologize first for this chapter. I never intended for it to get this out of hand. I have this tiny little idea in my head and suddenly my muse takes over and runs away with it. Which brings me to my second point, the lack of an update for last week. You see, said muse created such chaos, that I ended up having to rewrite much of what I had(they were only supposed to go shopping together, but then my muse decided to bring Puck along...well, you get the picture). And because of that, I now need to continue this into the next chapter. Sorry about that.
As a side though, I'd really love to rant about the last two episodes, but this AN is way too long as it is.
Enjoy!~