Chapter 4~Pigtails

Disclaimer: I own nothing...not the Glee characters/ideas or any other product/song mentioned here.

The parking lot at Pritchett's was deserted on a Thursday night, for which Quinn was eternally thankful, or so she thought. She had run out of her house in gray shorts, an old red t-shirt from her high school, her hair in two pigtails, and no makeup. She entered the well-lit store and grabbed a cart.

She moved up and down the aisles quickly, trying to remember everything she'd need. The store seemed mostly empty, except for employees. The soft music was again playing, though Quinn was a bit frazzled. She went to the baking needs aisle first and started pulling things off shelves for the cookies. In her haste, she knocked a box of baking powder on the floor. She bent over to pick it up and then about died from embarrassment.

"Tryin' to tear up the merchandise?" the deep voice asked from behind her, a hint of a chuckle underlying.

She stood up quickly, eye to eye with Sam, the blonde-haired guy. She was speechless; he was so hot he took her breath away...or maybe that was from bending over.

He laughed a bit, then looked her up and down quickly, his eyes landing on her pigtails. "Like the piggies..." He tugged on one and walked away, still chuckling.

What the hell just happened? she thought, watching his perfect ass walk away from her. Then, she realized he had come up behind her, while she was bent over at the waist. She took a few deep breaths before continuing her shopping. She now was on high alert for the blonde guy, who, for some reason, looked more like a guy than a boy to her now. Maybe the slacks, dress shirt, and tie?

She made sure to pick up a T-bone for Brittany and boneless skinless chicken breasts for her and Santana, baking potatoes, salad fixings, breakfast foods, and wine, lots of wine. She also needed salty snacks...chips and Cheetos and pretzels...to go along with the cookies. She hoped the girls stayed longer than the weekend.

She turned down the aisle for chocolate chips (she nearly forgot the damn things), and there he was…stocking items…standing right in front of the chocolate chips.

He saw her making her way toward him and smiled the lopsided grin.

"We meet again," she said, smiling at him.

"Small world…"

"At least I'm not tossing food all over your store," she blurted out, causing him to laugh loudly.

"Thanks for keeping it together! Whatcha lookin' for?"

"Um, chocolate chips…for cookies," she replied, not knowing why she gave him more information than he needed to know.

"From scratch? I bet your husband likes that," he said, handing her a package of Nestle's chips.

"Well, there is no husband, just some old friends…better grab me another one," she said. He did so, then stood there with his hands on his hips.

"So, ya liking the Whitaker place?" he asked.

"Very much so…it's a lovely home."

"Cool…glad ya like it here," he said, going back to putting stuff on the shelf. "Oh, just hit the bell when you're ready to check out…the other person here tonight doesn't do checkout."

"Sure…" she said, moving on down the aisle. At the end of the aisle, turning her cart toward the alcohol, she glanced back at him and found him staring at her. He quickly went back to his work and she moved on to find some wine.

He's a sweet kid, Quinn, get your mind off him…you need a man, not a boy…wait, you don't need either one! You're perfectly fine without all that drama! she thought picking a couple bottles of wine from the shelves, plus margarita ingredients. I need to try out that blender, just sitting there at home, doing nothing.

Finally satisfied that she had everything she needed after checking, double-checking, and even triple-checking her cart, she made her way to the checkout lanes. There was a bell sitting there, so she dinged it once and started unloading her cart.

Sam came jogging up to the front from the baking aisle, smiled at Quinn, and began running her stuff over the scanner.

"So, you're doing it all tonight?" she asked, making conversation.

"Yep, I'm in charge on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights to give Mr. Pritch a break," he said. She noticed his name tag read Sam E, Asst Mgr.

"He seems like a nice man to work for…"

"Oh yeah, he is…he's taught me a lot," Sam told her, laughing a bit. She had to admit, watching him laugh and smile and the way his bluish-green eyes (tonight they looked more blue to her) would crinkle up at the corners was melting her inside.

The bottles of wine and tequila made their way to the scanner.

"Oh…hang on a sec…" He pulled the microphone to his mouth. "Bonnie, register 2 please…Bonnie."

Looking at Quinn, he said, "We have to be at least 18 to scan liquor…"

She must've been staring at him blankly because he then said, "I'm still 17."

Quinn felt her jaw drop.

xxxxx

He bagged up all her stuff and pushed the cart to her Beetle for her. He even told her if he didn't have to run the store he would've followed her to her house and helped her take them in.

She laughed politely and told him thanks but no thanks, I can handle it fine. She then drove herself home, cracking up.

"Seventeen, Quinn!" she said out loud. "Oh my god, girl, you flirted with a seventeen-year-old!"

And, if she wasn't mistaken, he had flirted a little with her too.

xxxxx

The next day, Quinn met her friends Santana and Brittany at the airport and drove them to Sullivan's Island. She had, of course, sent them before and after pictures of her home, but they were anxious to see it in person.

"That flight was horrific!" Santana said as soon as they pulled away from the airport. "Crying babies, rude men, ugh, just rude stinky everyone!"

"I could've sworn I saw a blacksmith fixing a horseshoe on the wing, too," Brittany said with total seriousness.

Santana glanced at Quinn. "She had a calming pill before we left."

Quinn giggled, happy to see her friends. "I'm just glad you two could fly down on such short notice. I've missed you both! We have a lot of work to do though…I moved my pregnancy story to our junior year…Signa thought me getting pregnant in tenth grade would not be wise for young girls to read…"

Santana rolled her eyes.

"So anyway, we need to think up some stuff for our junior year…"

"Definitely prom…will they let your write about Blaine and Kurt and that whole thing?"

"I think so…that's a great idea…a lot of readers have asked for more back story about them," Quinn told them. "I'll have to check with them to make sure they're okay with their story being told."

She pulled up to the gates and entered her code.

"Wow, Q, it's just beautiful here…perfect for you," Santana said, taking in the surroundings. "It's nothing like Folly's!"

"No squids have washed up, have they, Quinn? Squidward freaks me the hell out," Brittany said from the backseat.

"Nope, no squids, Britt…I did see a sponge once though!"

"No way…did he have little brown pants on?"

Quinn laughed. "Britt, you're funny! No, no pants…a pantless sponge!"

xxxxx

Santana and Brittany loved Quinn's house. They told her they wanted to move there. She said they were welcome to visit whenever but she was living alone for now.

"I wish you had the pool open, Q," Santana said as they stood on the deck looking out at it.

"Hmm…me too…" Quinn replied, suddenly wondering if Sam from the market did pool work. She sipped on her margarita.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Q, but you live out in the boonies. How're you gonna find a man in the boonies?" Brittany asked her.

"It's not the boonies!" Quinn said, laughing, feeling a tad tipsy. "Okay, maybe a little boonie, but not much! And, I don't need no man!"

"Quinn, you need someone, your lobster…and not one that might crawl up on your beach…"

"Oh, Britt, she'll find her lobster…" Santana said, slipping her arm around Brittany's shoulders. "And she'll let him crawl up all over her beach!"

They all laughed uncontrollably.

"What if I said I have found a potential lobster?" Quinn offered, the tequila going to her head.

Santana and Brittany stared at her.

"Spill!"

Quinn told them about the blonde boy at the market and had them both laughing so hard they were all crying by the end of her story.

"Just let that one go, Q, baby, and find yourself a man!" Brittany told her.

"Oh, but Britt, he looks like a man!"

"But, Quinn, he's not…don't get yourself into some sort of sordid trouble," Santana said, suddenly speaking in her attorney tone of voice.

"You're right girls…let's make some cookies!"

xxxxx

Her weekend spent with her two closest friends did wonders for her soul, Quinn felt. It allowed her to re-focus on her writing, show off her house, get her mind off men, and laugh. Santana and Brittany extended their stay until Tuesday. With their help, Quinn had the outline ready to go for her new story and even the first few chapters written. They gave her decorating ideas for the last two bedrooms upstairs and the other full bath...since she had actually been stumped. They decided the bathroom should be done in browns and pinks.

"Like cherry blossoms," Brittany suggested, wrapping her arm around Quinn's shoulders. Quinn thought that was perfect.

They decided one of the bedrooms should be done in greens and the other in pale yellow. Quinn was thankful for their advice and ideas because for as many plans as she had had for so long she still never dreamed she'd have four bedrooms to decorate. So, after the girls left, Quinn spent her time when not writing, in Charleston shopping for unique items for the last three rooms.

She also finally stopped in at Pritchett's Market with the goal of setting up her grocery delivery. She figured the less she was actually in the store, the less the blonde guy would cross her thoughts. And dreams. One morning, she had woke up sweating and in a tizzy over the images still swirling in her head, of her and that guy and the things he had done to her. For some reason, her bed had been located on the pool deck, and she was waiting on the bed for him, in only her black bikini, her skin tanned and glistening in the sun. He walked out of the pool, coming toward her, in a pair of soaking wet blue trunks, water dripping off every part of him, muscles bulging everywhere. Just as he crawled upon the bed, slowly to her...she woke up, gasping. She then realized that lying in her own bed, her legs were spread wide open, her t-shirt soaked to her body, her nipples hard. In a way, she wanted to fall back asleep and let the dream continue but no time for that...there was work to be done.

The day she had gone to Pritchett's to set up her grocery delivery service, Sam had not been there to her great relief. Or was it disappointment? She still wasn't sure. She filled out the application, giving her address and gate code, and the day of the week and approximate time she wanted the stuff to be delivered. They copied her credit card and gave her a barcode scanner. She wandered about the store slowly, taking her time, choosing things she thought she'd need weekly. She was over in the fruits and vegetable area, thinking how nice it'd be to have this stuff just delivered to her, when she heard the raised angry voices.

"I said shut up, Betsy." Quinn looked over her shoulder and saw Sam practically stomping into the store wearing a blue letterman's jacket with a yellow JI over a white t-shirt and black shorts and high-top sneakers. He headed off behind where Quinn stood to the customer service area.

"You're always at this damn store, Sam Evans, and I'm sick and tired of it!" Betsy, following him, screeched loudly, pouting.

"God, Betsy, I need to pick up my paycheck…you could've waited in the car!"

"I'm tired of waiting, Sam…I'm always waiting on you!" Betsy stopped behind him, crossed her arms in front of her, huffing and puffing.

Quinn watched Sam turn to face Betsy. "Well, maybe you should stop waiting then…"

They stared at each other silently for what seemed like hours, then Betsy turned on her heel and stomped back out of the market. Sam exhaled and turned to go into the customer service area. Quinn turned back to the grapes she was examining, then scanned them in.

Sam jogged back out from the customer service desk and glanced over, noticing Quinn. He walked up to her.

"Hi there…uh, girls, you know…" he said, smiling at her.

"Yeah, I know," she replied, thinking I am a girl!

"You finding everything okay?"

"Yep, just fine, thanks…you better hurry back to your car," Quinn said, laughing.

"Oh, she'll survive…so how was your visit? With your old friends?" he asked her.

She was more than surprised that he had remembered.

"Fantastic, thanks for asking," she said, glancing up into his eyes that made her heart flutter.

"Cool…well, see ya 'round," he said, waving as he wandered off.

"Bye Sam…" she whispered, watching him go, then turning back to the fruit.

xxxxx

A week later, Quinn was at home upstairs, attempting to write, when she heard the front door knocker. She wasn't expecting anyone, so she was a bit curious. She went to her bedroom to check the driveway and saw an old box truck that said "Pritchett's Grocery Delivery!" on the side.

"Shit!" she hissed, forgetting about her delivery. She ran downstairs and whipped open the front door.

Sam smiled at her. "I have a delivery for you, ma'am."

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and hanging in there while I get the background set up. :)) My apologies for any blunders...hopefully I do Charleston justice! I'm from Indiana and who wants a story set in Indiana? Blech! Not me! LOL Thanks again! :))