My cell phone rang and cut me off mid sentence as I talked to Santana about the old Glee club. Most of the group was still in Lima, or in the nearby vicinity, and had settled into normal lives. Finn and Mercedes were both married already. Tina and Mike Chang had recently started dating again after running into one another at Walmart. Artie worked in computers but didn't expound on his love life when asked.

That's because he doesn't have one.

Puckerman was off being Puckerman, he left Lima after graduation and only returned sparingly to see his mother. Last I heard he was traveling the world. Lauren was a chef at a local Lima Bistro. She was doing surprisingly well for herself. According to Brittany she was even considering buying the place from it's current owners. Kurt had lost touch with the club. At least with me. He'd denied all my Facebook friend requests.

Screw him. I never much liked him anyway. Smug little punk.

I glanced at my phone, checked the caller ID then disregarded it. I shoved it back into my pocket quickly and turned my attention back to Santana. Cheryl was calling. This wasn't a surprise, we'd kept in contact after we'd broken up. She called every few weeks or so to say hello. Our conversations were familiar but usually lacking in depth. Despite that the calls were the most consistent thing in my life. I could always count on a call from Cheryl to check in on me. Our chats were superficial but familiar. Nice. I liked Cheryl, she was an important part of my past.

I met Cheryl in a support group. Well I was in the group and she was speaking to us about hate crimes on campus. She was the type of girl who figured things out quickly and painlessly. Her high school friends were accepting, her mother supportive and involved. Her father disinterested. She had the prototypical happy coming out. Everybody in her life was supportive. Her mother had even joined PFLAG.

Our father WAS interested. So interested he disowned us. For good this time. And our mother asked us if we were getting a sex change. Feel the love.

When I met her she was the big girl on campus. At least in the small lesbian community at our college. She was the girl everybody knew would do big things with herself. Law Student, student leader, cute as a button in a stiff and professional way, and easy to talk to. She asked me out for coffee the day we met. I was a lowly freshman girl, she an experienced law student. She taught me so much about setting and achieving goals, I felt as if I owed my current life and success to her. Together we mapped out my whole college career. At that point in my life she was exactly what I needed. A take charge type to help get me focused.

We dated for almost two years, until she graduated and moved to Chicago. She asked me if I'd be interested in coming with her. It was the type of conversation we didn't have. We never spoke about our feelings, or a future together. We simply enjoyed one another's company. Cheryl asking me if I was interested in coming with her was her way of extending me an olive branch. It wasn't romantic or emotional at all. We were in my dorm room studying in silence. Most of our time together was spent in silence. It was a comfortable silence but silence none the less. She leaned over to me and mentioned that she found an apartment in Chicago. Close to Northwestern University. Then without a hint of romance she asked me if I'd considered going to Northwestern business school. And if I did I could move with her.

Cheryl wasn't a romantic. On the other hand neither was I. We were two girls totally emotionally isolated who just so happened to find solace in one another. It was seemingly dysfunctional but it worked like a charm. We did what most couple's do, went out to movies and to dinner. Hung out and watched TV together. Took walks and had great sex. With all the things our relationship had we were missing key ingredients. Passion was the most important. We quickly settled into a routine and went from new couple to grandparents practically overnight. Despite this I didn't mind. That's why when she asked about me coming to Chicago I surprised myself when I said no, I'd prefer to keep to my schedule in New York, I told her. Cheryl didn't seem to blink, she nodded then went back to studying.

"Who is that Berry?" Santana asked.

"Cheryl." I answered back. Santana and Brittany had met Cheryl several times. They'd been polite to her and she to them but I could tell they didn't like her. Cheryl was always hard to read but she never said a bad word about them. She was accommodating and friendly but as usual there was something missing.

"You still talk to the Ice Queen?" Santana asked. She seemed genuinely surprised.

"She was my first girlfriend Santana. We're friends. We call each other and catch up. She's not that bad."

Brittany looked up from her toe nails, which were currently getting a fresh coat of pink polish and smiled. "That's nice that you guys stayed friends. I'm sure she doesn't have that many so it's good that you stay in contact with her."

Why would she think Cheryl doesn't have friends?

Uh, because she doesn't. She hardly had any friends when we were together.

That's not true she was always going out for drinks and stuff. She invited us every time.

Yeah, with her classmates. And every time we went it was always different people. She didn't have a core group of friends like we do. She doesn't have a Santana and Brittany. She just had us and friends from classes. Once the class ended she probably never saw the people again.

"She has friends." I lied for her. Cheryl was a sweetheart, I didn't want them thinking badly of her.

"I doubt it." Santana said. She looked up from the magazine she was reading at Brittany. "What did we used to call her Brittany?"

"Vicki." Brittany said without looking up from her toes.

Santana laughed. "Yeah, Vicki."

"Vicki?" I asked. I didn't get it. "Why Vicki?"

"Because she's a robot." Brittany answered as casually as if she were talking about what she wanted to have for dinner.

"And all robots are named Vicki?" I asked her. It didn't make sense.

Of course it doesn't make sense. She's Brittany, she doesn't think like us. You have to read between the lines. Somebody had a robot named Vicki.

"Not all robots, some of them have to be named Vicki I guess. The robot on the Jetson's was named Rosie. That's almost like Vicki but not quite."

"So who's robot was named Vicki?"

"Jamie Lawson."

Santana laughed. "I hated that kid. He was such a dork." She looked over at me realizing that I was still totally lost and shook her head. "It's some lame TV show from the 80's Brittany and I used to watch on Nick at Nite back in high school. Small Wonder. The girl on the show is a robot and her name is Vicki. Cheryl reminds us of her."

I never seen that show. Is it on the internet?

Seriously how would I know that?

"Oh okay." Was all I could say.

"I know she's not really a robot. Robot people aren't real." Brittany said, looking up from her toes again towards Santana who was shaking her head no and looking in Brittany's direction.

I could tell by the reaction that this was a discussion they'd had before. They were so cute together. Rachel was right. They belonged together. I couldn't imagine a circumstance where they didn't fit together like the perfect puzzle. They complimented each other so well. Where Brittany was flighty and free, Santana was focused and controlled.

Speaking of Rachel we should call her. Send her some flowers or something. She loves flowers.

But she's with Luke.

So. He's gay. He won't mind. He's probably taking a bubble bath or something anyway.

~Sunday afternoon~

I was alone again after Santana and Brittany left to catch the train back to Boston. Despite them showing up uninvited I loved having them here. I hated being here alone all the time. Sitting around Saturday with them and Rachel was like being in Heaven. It was just like old times in the Glee club. I pretended to hate it but it was the most fun I've ever had.

Are we sure he's gay? Aren't gay guys supposed to be strange? He doesn't sound gay, and he isn't that good of a dresser. I think Santana is wrong. She didn't even give us any proof, we're just supposed to take her word for it. Santana lies. Remember when she tried to convince us not to wear spankies that day during Cheerios. She said the whole squad was going commando.

She just wanted to see us naked. I was flattered. And it almost worked. You wanted to do it. Remember you said we had to fit in and be a team player?

That's because you made everybody hate us.

I don't remember you complaining back then you ungrateful bitch. High school was fun.

Not all of it. Sophomore year.

Don't blame that on me, I told you drinking with Puckerman was a bad idea. I knew that guy wanted to get into our pants. I told you a hundred times that's all boys want from us. Sex. Oh come on Quinn, nobody will know. Oh come on Quinn, it won't hurt at all. Oh come on Quinn, you can't get pregnant your first time. Moron.

How long are you going to hold that over my head?

Forever. You got us knocked up.

Puckerman got us knocked up. I just laid there.

I remember. Then we had to give up our baby.

Now that was YOUR idea.

Somebody had to do the thinking. You were all hormonal and crying all the time. Wanting to keep her. We were only fifteen.

Sixteen.

Fifteen and a half. And look at us now, it was the right decision.

I still miss her. Our baby.

And I don't? I miss her too but Shelby's taking good care of her and we sent her money for college.

I'm sure she'll like that.

Of course she will. She'll understand.

Okay so what do you want to do about Rachel? I want to be her girlfriend. I'm ready. I want to come home to her and cuddle at night and listen to her loud snoring. I want to order her vegan food and send her roses on opening night for the rest of our life.

Jesus obsess much.

Stop acting like you don't want those things too. I know you love her. You're not fooling anybody.

Maybe we should just go to her house and ruin their night.

She'll never forgive us if we do that. If Luke is gay it may ruin his career and she obviously cares about him and his career. We need to pretend like he doesn't bother us.

Why?

Because we don't want to be needy and clingy. You said that. You said we shouldn't come on too strong.

Now you want to listen to me?

We have to show her we've changed. if you were in charge we'd key his car, or post nasty rumors about him on TMZ.

It would work too. It would ruin him and she wouldn't want him anymore.

Says you. She'd hate us.

We wouldn't tell her we did it stupid.

No. We aren't doing anything to Luke. He hasn't done anything to us. If anything we're the bad guy here because we slept with his girlfriend.

Fuck that guy. She's ours.

Now who's being obsessive?

Don't judge me.

~Sunday night~

"Thank you for the flowers. They were beautiful. I'm just curious why you sent them." Rachel said as she slipped into the room and pulled off her coat.

"To make your boyfriend jealous. Maybe he'll do something nice for you like buy you a fur coat or something."

"I'd be appalled. I'd never condone the killing of a defenseless animal for fashion." She said sternly. She seemed genuinely turned off by the idea.

Note to self, no fur coats.

"Well he's not doing something right. I wouldn't have let you out of my sight."

"It's okay. He's with a friend."

He's with some guy I bet. Doing gay stuff.

Shut up.

"So you can spend the night with me?"

She arched an eyebrow at me. "Do you want me to?"

"I wouldn't be opposed to it. I like having you close to me. I'd prefer it if you stay here most of the time."

She leaned back on the sofa and let her eyes wash over me. "So you like me?"

Okay, say yes. Just one word.

"Sure. I like you."

Damnit Quinn just do what I say!

Do you want to take over?

Definitely.

"Well great," she said. There was something about the way she said it that was off. Was she angry with me?

"Rachel I like you. I like having you close to me. I want you to stay with me tonight. I want us to get to know each other better."

"Quinn you know I have a boyfriend." She cut in. It was half hearted.

"I don't care about him."

"Clearly." She said. The tone was back. The angry tone.

She was off the sofa and pulling her jacket back on. She WAS angry with me and I had no idea why.

"Why are you mad? What did I do? I said I liked spending time with you. I want us to get to know one another better."

"I thought you were different Quinn but you haven't changed much. Not where it counts. You call me over for sex and you make me feel like I'm fifteen all over again. I'm nervous and giddy. Then you ask me to spend more time with you but you don't care that I have a boyfriend."

What are we supposed to say?

I don't know. She's mad at us. I don't know what we did.

She walked towards the door and grabbed the knob.

"Rachel don't leave. Talk to me. Tell me what I did. I'm sorry."

She looked back at me and shook her head. "You didn't do anything Quinn, that's the point." Then she walked out the door to leave.

Go after her. You have to go after her. They always chase the girl in the movies.

Really, in the movies?

Do you have a better idea? If she leaves she'll never come back.

I snatched the door open and ran into the hallway. Rachel was standing at the elevator and when I called her name she didn't turn to look at me.

"Rachel come back inside. It's late. You can sleep in the bed, I'll sleep in the guest room. We can talk some more."

"There isn't much to say Quinn." She told me. I could hear the shaky pain in her voice.

Is she crying? Did we make her cry?

"Rachel tell me what's wrong." I pleaded.

"Quinn when I came to New York I had three major goals. Get into Julliard, make it to Broadway, and headline my own Broadway show. I didn't plan past that because truthfully those are all nearly impossible tasks to accomplish. To accomplish even one is something to be proud of. I accomplished all three, in nearly record time. I'm not even thirty years old yet and I feel like I've peaked." She finally turned to look at me revealing beautiful brown eyes full of pain, hurt, and tears. "I needed more than just my career but I was confident I wouldn't have it. It wasn't until I ran into you that I felt something that I've been missing in my life. Passion. The time I've spent with you has been the most alive I've felt in years. I hoped, no prayed, that you felt the same way."

"I do." I threw out quickly. "I feel the same way. I like being with you."

"Prove it." She told me.

How? Tell me what to say. What does she want?

I don't know. Tell her the truth.

"Rachel I'm in love with you. I always have been."

The words hit a brick wall, Rachel didn't budge. "Prove it."

"Prove it how? I told you I'm in love with you. I don't know what else to say."

She simply began to shake her head. I could see the disappointment in her face. "I don't doubt it Quinn but you aren't ready for a relationship and I swore to myself that I wasn't going to let you hurt me. I have to leave before I cause you to break that promise."

Don't let her do this. Say something.

…..

Hello? Help me?

…..

"Rachel you're being unreasonable. Tell me what I have to do to make this right. If you know how I feel about you why won't you give me a chance?"

She didn't answer me. Couldn't. Her eyes were red and it looked as if any minute she'd start to cry.

"Please. Just give me a chance." I asked again.

"Just prove it to me. Prove to me that you love me."

"What does that mean? I don't know what it means Rachel. You have to tell me."

The elevator door opened. "If you don't understand you're not ready Quinn."

"Damnit Rachel. Why do you have to make things so damn hard all the time. Its just like back in Lima. All you care about is your damn self. If you want to leave, go. Get out of here, I'm not stopping you. Take your Man hands and hustle back down to Chelsea."

I wasn't sure where all the venom came from. One minute I was in pain and trying to win her heart and the next I was acting like a teenage mean girl. It had been years since I'd uttered those hurtful words. Man hands. She was going to hate me forever now. She would never forgive me for this.

Something flickered in Rachel's eyes. Recognition? Relief? "So you are still in there somewhere? I was waiting for you to show up." She leaned into me and gave me a final kiss before disappearing onto the elevator. "Goodbye Quinn."

The elevator doors closed before I got a chance to apologize. She was gone and all hope of a relationship with her went with her.

"I didn't mean that." I said too late.

~Monday~

I spent the morning working intensely at my station. When things got tough I focused on work. Focused on making money. Margo had taught me that making money helped. It was the mantra she repeated constantly when things got bad.

Things WERE bad. I didn't sleep at all last night. I kept myself busy so I wouldn't think about Rachel. I was afraid if I slept she'd haunt my dreams. Instead of resting I stayed up all night going over files, reviewing paperwork so I could come to work and make a killing. It didn't make me feel any better. I was making money, lots of money. I was making a killing today like I was taught and I still felt like crap.

Hey. Hey you're not still mad at me are you?

What do you think? You abandoned me last night. You abandoned me and I called her Man Hands.

I'm sorry. I freaked out.

No you're not.

I felt a slight brush of contact on my shoulder and a cold shiver ran down my spine. A finger ran slowly down my neck. The gesture was familiar. Extremely familiar. Only one person touched me that way.

"Hey there Cupcake."

NO. What is she doing here? Is she here to see us?

"Cheryl."

I hadn't seen Cheryl in years. The day she left New York we spent the morning in bed watching reruns of Will and Grace. She made me breakfast like she always did, coffee and an omelet, and brought me a copy of the Wall Street Journal. It was like any other day, except we both knew a part of our life was ending.

Cheryl was the type of girlfriend who wanted to handle all the details. When we dated she made all the plans. When we went out she always paid. She was polite, kind to me, and the best relationship I ever had. Her need to be in control of things didn't bother me. It was good to be in the passenger seat for once. I felt safe with her.

The sex was pretty good too.

I'm not speaking to you. Traitor.

It had been years since we'd last seen one another but she hadn't changed at all. She looked exactly like she had that day she kissed me goodbye in her apartment. Her hair was longer and she was dressed in a suit that I knew by sight cost more than mine. There was a pair of glasses on the tip of her nose but she still looked like the Cheryl I remembered.

"Sorry to sneak up on you Cupcake. But I had to come down to see you. I know you said you were in investing but I didn't know you were doing so well. Rumor has it you're up for some big promotion." She leaned into me and sat down on the edge of my desk, crossing her legs in front of me. "Between you and me, I think you're going to get it." Cheryl didn't speculate. If she said it out loud she probably had a reason.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. It was good to see her. We talked on the phone semi-regularly and talked on line occasionally but we never talked about visiting one another. She was a success back in Chicago. A partner at her law firm. I wasn't sure how much money that was but it was a lot. Knowing that, it hardly seemed like the king of job that allowed her to play hooky by visiting her ex college girlfriend in New York on a whim.

She smiled. "I'm working. We have a deal in the works. I'm in charge of making sure things get handled. I called you to let you know I was in town but I couldn't get a hold of you."

I nodded. "I'm sorry, Santana and Brittany were in town. Santana's just finishing up medical school and her and Brittany are going to get married."

She reached out and stroked my forearm. "You look great Cupcake."

Cheryl had always called me Cupcake. I wasn't sure why. It didn't hold any specific meaning, at least not to me. One day she'd just started doing it. I didn't protest. Nobody had ever given me a nickname before. At least not a good one. I liked the idea of being somebody's Cupcake.

"Thank you." It was all I could think to say.

"I know this is short notice but we should have dinner tonight. You know, catch up."

Say yes. Tell her yes. It's not like we have anything better to do. Besides we need to get our minds off Rachel.

I didn't have the strength to fight. "That sounds like fun."I told her.

She smiled. "I have to get back upstairs to my meeting but I want to see you tonight. Dinner. Seven thirty. I'll pick you up."

I knew better than to argue. Cheryl was a total control freak. "That sounds like fun. Dinner."

She looks hot.

Being hot was never the problem.

Well you see what feelings gets us. Rachel hates us and we're such losers we don't even know why.

Because we couldn't prove it.

Prove what?

I still have no idea. How much we love her. That we care about her. I don't know.

I don't think she meant anything by it. I think she was just looking for a way to dump us. With this Luke character back in town it was only a matter of time. If he isn't gay the last thing she wants is to ruin her meal ticket by getting naked with us.

She liked us. I could tell.

A fat load of good that did us.

~Dinner~

"So you're in town working. What kind of project?" I asked. I didn't really care, just making conversation. Cheryl's legal mumbo jumbo usually bored me silly.

"Yeah, just some boring stuff I know you don't care about. Tell me what's going on with you. Are you seeing anybody?"

There was the inevitable question. Are you seeing anybody? I didn't know how to answer. Technically I wasn't, Rachel had pretty much told me to pound sand. Even though I knew this to be the truth, my heart wouldn't let me give up so easily.

"Kind of. We're figuring some things out." I answered.

Cheryl simply nodded. "I was seeing somebody but things didn't work out. She wanted to know things. What I was thinking. Why I did things a certain way. It was very strange. I didn't enjoy it like I enjoyed us. You seemed to understand me."

Not really but the whole point of being with her was that she didn't mind that we didn't.

"You're a bit of an eccentric." I said teasing.

Her face came to life at the words though. "Right. I am. I like keeping things to myself. I need to be with somebody who understands that." She took a sip of her wine and looked around the restaurant. "Since we've separated have you had anybody in your life who has been as good for you as me?"

It was a strange question. "Not really. I've dated but everything ends either badly or in disappointment."

"Same here. I liked us. We worked very well together. You had your things and I had mine. We compromised on everything and we enjoyed one another's company. We didn't get bogged down in all the silly stuff."

I was curious to hear her definition of silly stuff but she didn't expand on the topic.

"Quinn we should really go out again. I mean like on a real date. Your friends at the office told me you like going to the Opera."

Hell no.

"Broadway shows actually."

She nodded, not deterred. "Even better. I'm going to be in town for a few weeks working on this deal. Let me take you to a show."

I don't know how comfortable I am with this. We need to be trying to win Rachel back not scamming on new women.

She doesn't want us. She broke up with us remember. We can't sit around and sulk. We need to get back out there. I'm tired of being alone. I want a girlfriend.

You're kidding. You're admitting to wanting to be in a relationship.

It's all your fault. I told you Rachel was going to ruin us.

You did not. You went on and on about how we needed to get her into bed. You were totally into it.

Fine. Whatever. I still want to go out with Cheryl. We tried things your way and things didn't work. We have to try them my way now.

"A show sounds great," I said. Just saying the words felt wrong. Rachel and I had only spoken last night. Wasn't there some kind of break-up grace period? Wasn't there a holding pattern you put yourself in just in case you decided to get back together? If not there should be.

Cheryl smiled and took another sip of her wine. "Wonderful. That's great news."

Where is she staying? Do you think she'll stay at our place if we asked?

No. Absolutely not. We are not having sex with two different people in the same week. It's slutty.

Oh come on you big prude. Who's going to know? It's not like we haven't slept with her before. It won't even count. It'll be like eating left-over's.

No. No. No. No. It's not happening you slut. Dirty sex with Cheryl won't help us get over Rachel. It's only going to make us feel cheap.

Admit it, it sounds like fun though right.

"I'll have to set things up with you soon so we can arrange your schedule. I don't want to encroach on your time with this other person," Cheryl said.

"Rachel." I confessed.

Cheryl simply nodded. "Right, Rachel." She took another sip. "Do you eat here a lot? How is the Spinach Ricotta?"

"Delicious." I lied. I thought it was disgusting.

Ha. Ten bucks she spits it up into her napkin.

You're on.