Sorry I've been gone so long; I've had a lot going on.

Chapter Ten – Sixteeen With An Attitude.

The first thing Rachel did on Wednesday morning was find Mr. Schuester. It wasn't too hard because – for once – he was in his choir room office, grading papers.

"Do you really think it's fair to expect us students to complete our homework in a timely fashion, when you teachers can't even do the same?"

He looked up, surprised by her voice; in fact, he appeared far from alert altogether. He looked even wearier when he realized it was her and he dropped tired eyes back to his desk, "Oh, hey, Rachel. You got an A+." He shuffled through his "marked" pile and then handed over her homework, "I'll see you later."

"That's not why I'm here," she took the seat on the other side of his desk without waiting to be asked – because all too often teachers didn't ask and she'd learned to work around it, "I want to speak about Glee club. More specifically, what we can do to counteract Coach Sylvester's efforts to create disharmony within the group."

Although annoyed when she had first sat down, he now sat up straighter, running a hand back through his hair, "Actually, I've been thinking the same thing. I spent most of last night thinking about it, it's why I'm so behind on these." He indicated the papers in front of him with his pen.

"We need to hit back, hit Coach Sylvester where it hurts, so hard that she knows she can't mess with us like this!"

Mr. Schuester gave a little chuckle, "I whole-heartedly agree, Rachel, but I don't think it's appropriate for me to be discussing my revenge tactics with you."

She could tell he was both joking and serious, but that wasn't good enough for her.

"Mr. Schue, I am every bit as committed to this club as you are, and therefore, in this instance while the very existence of Glee club hangs in the balance, I demand that you treat me as an equal."

"Okay, I'll try," he said slowly, and he looked too frightened by her assertiveness to just be humoring her, "I've managed to locate the piano. Sue sent it to be steam-cleaned." Rachel actually approved of that but she didn't say so. "It'll be back by lunchtime…"

"Good, then I propose we call an extra session during lunch hour to make up for the time we lost yesterday."

"If everyone's available, I'm okay with that. I'm still not sure how to "hit Coach Sylvester where it hurts" though. I mean she has the rules on her side and…"

Rachel's eyes had drifted down to the papers on his desk and she was an expert at reading upside. What she saw made her zone out on him, before interrupting, "Wait, are you giving Charity a C+?"

"Uh, yeah, why?"

"Because I can see from here that she's mixed up her tenses for every single answer and this one –" she stabbed her finger at question five "—isn't even written in Spanish! If I'd known we were allowed to answer the questions in English, I could have saved myself at least fifteen minutes of preparation time."

"You're not allowed to answer in English," he was back to being weary again, "But Charity is… well, she doesn't have as good of a grasp on the language as you do."

Rachel looked at the paper again, "Does she have any grasp of it?"

He gathered the binder sheets together and set them aside so that she couldn't see them anymore, "Rachel, be nice. Not everyone–"

"Applies themselves to their lessons with as much vigor as I do, which, if I understand the student/learning relationship at all, means that not everyone should be attaining passing grades. It's simple; if you don't put the work in, you shouldn't get the reward."

He was exasperated with her now, but that wasn't anything she wasn't used to, "Rachel, she pays attention in class, always turns in her homework on time. I'm not going to…"

"Flunk her because her work is subpar? How is she supposed to know she needs to improve? By allowing Charity to think she is doing better than she is, you are failing her as an educator, Mr. Schuester!"

He stared at her thoughtfully, "You're right."

"Of course I'm right. Do you think I would be half the singer I am now if my second grade music teacher hadn't pointed out that I was going flat on the second verse of Mary Had A Little Lamb?"

"I guess not," he blacked out the C+ at the top of Charity's paper and then after a moment of hesitation, scribbled in an F in red pen.

He looked upset, so she offered, "You're doing her a favor in the long-term by forcing her to study harder."

He stared down at the paper for a beat, "Hey, Charity is a cheerleader, right?"

"Yes."

He flicked back through the papers, "And so are Amber and Kassie and Sarah and Jonah and Ricky?"

She had to think for a second, putting the names to the Cheerios uniforms, but… "Yes, I believe so. Why?"

"I may have up-graded them all."

She liked where he was going with this, but she couldn't condone grade-related deceit, not even for the sake of Glee club, "Really, you're sure?"

"Ricky's answer to question three –"

"When should I be expected for dinner?" Rachel quoted from memory.

He read from the paper, "Is: Time when want food?"

She grinned, "Oh dear."

"Exactly. And Brittany's response was…"

"No! You can't flunk Brittany! Principal Figgins might say she's not eligible for Glee club either and we're already down to five people!"

"Rachel, if I have to do this I will, but I'm not happy about applying double standards."

"Do you honestly think Coach Sylvester isn't playing dirty?"

Mr. Schuester sighed but left Brittany's grade as a C, "Okay, you better get going, classes start in a few minutes. And not a word about this to anyone, Rachel."

Like she was going to tell anyone she'd just contributed to flunking half of the Cheerios! Quinn was going to be beside herself with fury. So it was just as well they'd already agreed to not let the war between Glee and the Cheerios affect them.

She just had to hope that was still the same now that they weren't together anymore.

There had been no Facebook contact from Rachel the night before. For which Quinn had told herself she was grateful. She'd had to tell herself a lot, but not being bombarded by messages was a good thing; it gave her a brief break from dealing that she'd sorely needed.

She didn't think the silence would last long though, surely Rachel would make another attempt to talk her around. She had faith in herself that she could stand her ground under pressure and stay firmly opposed to anything Rachel might do to change her mind. Because it was in her best interests and Quinn could overcome anything if it was in her own best interests – she just had to look in the mirror for her proof. Talking her father and the doctors into giving her a nose-job at thirteen should have been the one insurmountable obstacle in her quest to become a different person, and yet she had accomplished it. And if she could do that, she could do anything.

She imagined Rachel going to her dads at thirteen and telling them she wanted cosmetic surgery on her nose… they never would have allowed it. They wouldn't even let her give up dairy until she was eighteen.

She shouldn't be thinking about Rachel! She should only be thinking about taking her books out of her locker and heading to class. Rachel was bad news; she was kryptonite; she was…

…walking down the crowded hall to her own locker!

'Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop… Why didn't she stop?'

Quinn subtly shifted on her toes so that her body was slightly facing the other way and she could see Rachel's locker out of the corner of her eye.

Rachel opened the metal door and placed a couple of books inside, took one out, and then pushed in a white plastic bag. A spare outfit? Or another spare outfit, because she always brought fresh spare clothes at the start of the school week and it was only Wednesday. Quinn knew she hadn't been slushied in the last two days. She was obviously preparing for an all-out attack today.

Quinn didn't feel guilty, because she knew she wouldn't be the one throwing the slushies at her – she didn't want revenge, she just wanted to move on – and it wasn't her problem anymore if Santana or anyone else took it upon themselves to "ice" the girl.

Rachel appeared completely oblivious to the fact that she was being watched as she tidied things in her locker, pulled out a pink folder to look through the contents before putting it back in, and then bent just a little at the waist to check her reflection in the mirror on the inside of the door.

Quinn's gaze dropped to the hem of her skirt as she did so, wondering if there was any more clothing under there today. As her thoughts caught up with her, she felt color rise in her cheeks and then she jumped with a squeak when a shoulder connected with the lockers on her other side.

She turned her head reluctantly fearing Santana, only it was worse.

"Finn said you went to the obstetrician yesterday?" Puck knew the word obstetrician? He read her mind and rolled his eyes, "My mom's a ped's nurse. Just 'cause Finn can't even pronounce the word doesn't mean I don't know shit, okay?"

She smiled, "He thought the OB/GYN was a kind of Storm Trooper."

He chuckled for a moment, before looking serious again, "So, how was it? I mean, everything's okay, right?"

She didn't want to talk to him about this, especially not in the hall when so many people were around, but he looked so concerned.

So she whispered, "Everything's fine. She's healthy and everything."

There was nothing for a moment and then his face was overtaken by a smile. Not a leer or a grin or a smirk, but a real smile, "She?"

She felt a twinge of something in her chest as she smiled back and nodded. It hadn't been there in the doctor's office with Finn and, sure, it was only half the twinge she'd experienced when she'd been telling Rachel, but it was still something she both wasn't expecting and wasn't ready for.

"Uh, yeah, it's a girl," she muttered, "I have to get to class."

It was only when she was seated and pulling her books out of her bag – or trying to pull out her books anyway – that she realized she'd never actually gotten around to taking them out of her locker.

It was going to be another long day, but at least Rachel seemed to be heeding her request and staying out of her way.

"Are you going to cry? I have some tissues if you need them."

"I'm not going to cry!" She shot a terse glance at Brittany and pulled her friend's textbook into the middle of the desk, "We're sharing."

In the brief break between morning classes, Rachel watched Quinn go straight from her classroom to the bathroom across the hall. Good. If her morning sickness was bad today it made this the perfect opportunity to approach her. She came with a two-sided attack, after all. Herself and what she was about to take out of her locker.

She didn't rush in like a fool though, she waited until she saw Santana and Brittany walk out of the main doors to enjoy the bright sunshine outside for a few minutes, and then she rushed in, charging through the bathroom door and halfway to the stalls before she realized that Quinn was standing at the sinks.

"Oh, hi."

Quinn actually groaned out loud when she saw her in the mirror, and it wasn't a happy groan, "If you take your underwear off, I will flush your head in one of these toilets!"

"That won't be necessary," she walked the line of stalls, making doubly sure they were alone. "I thought you might have been feeling sick so I came to…"

"Do what, Berry? The exact thing I asked you not to?"

"To make you feel better," she finished quietly.

Quinn glared at her in the mirror, but then she turned and her expression was much gentler once they were facing each other, "Don't do that anymore. Please?"

"I'm not going to stop caring for your well-being just because we're not together, Quinn."

"I'd prefer it if you did."

Rachel hesitated before striding forward, "Well, you don't get to decide that any more than I do. Are you feeling unwell? You're looking a little pale."

"I'm fine," Quinn turned back to the mirrors, "I just had another sleepless night in a long line of sleepless nights."

"So you're not…"

"About to throw up on your shoes? No." Quinn glanced down, "Which I'm sorry about, because it could only improve those penny loafers."

Rachel sighed but didn't rise to the bait, "I have something for you."

"I don't want it."

"You don't even know what it is."

"The last time you opened with that line you gave me a towel that completely skewed my entire life. I can't handle you doing that again."

Rachel smiled, because Quinn couldn't have made a better comparison, "Stop being such a drama queen!"

That earned her the reflection of a raised eyebrow and Rachel chuckled as she pulled the white plastic carrier from her book bag. Quinn's other eyebrow rose to join its partner and she turned away from the mirror again, "Don't even think about getting changed in front of me!"

"I wasn't! Why would I be getting changed, anyway?"

"I… don't know. What's in the bag?"

"I'm glad you asked," she smiled tentatively, "It's a token of my affection. I'm not trying to change your mind," she added quickly. "I know it's over, you don't have to worry about that, it's just something I wanted you to have, regardless of everything else."

She pulled the cashmere scarf from the bag and pushed it into Quinn's hands.

"Rachel…"

"I washed it this morning and, well, I'll wash it again as often as you want me to. We can work out a system so that the exchange is never detected –"

"Rachel, I can't take this."

"Yes you can," Rachel skipped back to the bathroom door before Quinn had a chance to hand it back. "Cashmere is kind of a gray area for me, anyway. I find it hard to reconcile my need for warmth with that of the goat's, who to the best of my goat knowledge, probably lives on the side of mountain somewhere and therefore would surely have more need of his coat than I do," she forced herself to pause when she realized she was rambling, "But if you'll feel more comfortable seeing this as a business transaction, then I'll gladly accept Grumpy Bear back. I would like him back, for sentimental reasons, as something to remember our wonderful – if brief – time together, but that's completely up to you. I won't bother you again… although Mr. Schuester has requested we have a Glee club meeting at lunch in the Choir room and it would be helpful if you were there."

"I don't know. Coach is on one of her rampages this morning. I might have to be on the field at lunch."

"Please, Quinn, we need you. We're already down to five people."

"And my squad is down to three! I mean, yeah, it makes for a much nicer team environment for me right now, but our competition season starts next week and you can't form a pyramid with only three people! At least, not a good one."

Rachel bit her bottom lip and ducked her head to hide her smile from the ranting Head Cheerio. Mr. Schuester had certainly moved fast – which was impressive, really – she hadn't expected to see any results until at least the following day.

"Rachel?" Quinn's stern tone pulled her head up automatically, "What did you do?"

Damn it, she'd given herself away somehow! There was no proof of her involvement, though, and so no reason she should let Quinn's inquisitor eyes crack her open and make her spill any confessions.

"I did nothing at all, Quinn. I cannot be held accountable for the combination of low IQ's and air-headedness, seemingly inherent to the common McKinley cheerleader, which has led to the unfortunate consequences the Cheerios are facing at this time."

"So, you know nothing about academic ineligibility?"

"I can honestly say that I don't. I am a model student and thoroughly apply myself to all areas of learning, and my grades reflect as much."

Quinn's eyes narrowed further, "Rachel!"

She grinned nervously and pulled the door open; Quinn was less likely to attack her if there was a view to the outside world.

"Anyway, I've taken up enough of your time. If I don't see you in the Choir room at lunch I hope you have a pleasant rest of the day."

Deciding to quit while she had the last word, she gave Quinn one last nod and then fled the room.

Quinn watched the door close slowly behind Rachel's hasty departure, wondering whether or not to go after her and demand to know what she knew. She was almost angry enough to do it, but that voice inside her head – the only one keeping her sane – pointed out that a confrontation with Rachel Berry in the school halls was really not in her best interest.

It would be misconstrued, intentionally by some and accidentally by others, and before lunch period even began, everyone would be talking about their "lover's tiff." She didn't need that right now; actually, she didn't need that ever, but especially not when just hearing her name in the same sentence as Rachel's made her feel like crying. It was crazy but – fear of being caught not-withstanding – it was easier to hear the rumors about the two of them together when there was some basis of truth in it. At least then the looks, the whispers, the sneers, all of the bad stuff, was a little bit worth it. Now she was just suffering for a crime she wasn't even committing.

She looked down at the scarf; the one calling her a liar.

It wasn't as if she'd asked for it though, and she didn't even want it! It was just a reminder of what she didn't have. And like she wanted to be surrounded by the smell of Rachel now, anyway. It would be pure freaking torture.

The cream cashmere was so soft beneath her fingers as she gripped it, squeezing it in frustration. How dare Rachel force something like this on her? Grumpy Bear was a meaningless cheap toy, but this scarf was expensive and it was important to Rachel and it was significant to them, having played its part in bringing them together. It was a low blow and she had no doubt that Rachel had known exactly what she was doing.

Even if she hadn't analyzed her own motives as much as Quinn was – which she would have done, for sure – she still would know the impact that this particular token of affection would have. She was giving Quinn the one thing she'd needed, craved even, that Rachel had been holding back before. This scarf wasn't just an olive branch; it was a pledge of faith, in her, in them. It was forgiveness and trust and a promise. It was like… it was like she was holding Rachel's symbolic virginity in her hands or something!

'Gross!'

She turned to the trash can against the tiled wall and prepared to shoot the scarf towards it. Wait, what was she doing? She couldn't just throw Rachel's scarf away, that would be senseless and petty.

She should put it on EBay!

The price it could fetch might even cover five minutes of the twenty she'd spent having her ultrasound.

She gathered it back in her hands, enjoying the luxurious feel of the wool. Closing her eyes, she brought it up to her face, rubbing her cheeks with it as she breathed in Rachel's scent. It could only have been better if Rachel had worn it for a while after washing it. It was almost enough to make her wish her morning sickness was active so that she had an excuse to give in and wear it, but it wasn't and she couldn't.

Instead, she folded it back up and put it in her bag. She'd give it back to Rachel later, as soon as she got the chance.

Her confrontation with Finn after third period had her wanting to throw the scarf in the trash again!

"I just wish sometimes you could be more like Rachel! Like, she cares about my feelings and stuff!"

Quinn scoffed at the boy, "Oh really?"

Right, Rachel cared about him so much she'd tried seducing his girlfriend yesterday!

"Yeah," he returned forcefully, "Do you know she actually gave that Jacob kid a pair of her underpants yesterday just so he wouldn't tell the whole school you were pregnant?"

"Oh, and do you honestly think there wasn't something in it for her?"

"What could she have…?"

Something important cut through her anger, "Wait, what did you just say?"

"That Rachel is a good person and she–"

"No! About her underwear?"

He explained and her face drained of all color, and then it came back, turning her cheeks bright pink.

'Oh, shit.'

Rachel had actually done that… for her? And then she'd jumped to the wrong conclusion and been a total bitch.

"Look, Finn, I know some guys cheat on their pregnant wives or girlfriends, but just don't do it with her!" she warned strongly before whirling away.

There, the frightened look in his guilty eyes should keep him in check for a while longer. She just had to hope it was long enough for her to make things up to Rachel, again.

No one was more surprised than Rachel was when she was made a volleyball captain again – except for maybe everyone else, too.

She'd been thrilled with the power on Monday but today she didn't want it. She actually wanted to be one of those girls standing anxiously in a line waiting for their name to be called. Because this pressure was just too much.

The other captain today was, of all people, Kassie and that was making life really difficult. The flunked Cheerio had already picked Santana, Brittany, Reena, and Charity. Lining up beside Rachel were Mercedes, Tina, Jennifer, and Bernadette. They each had one more pick out of the four or five remaining girls and Kassie was gleefully taking her time in deliberating over her final choice of teammate, running her finger up the line, pausing thoughtfully when she got to a certain blonde cheerleading captain before hmming and slowly running her finger the other way.

"Why ain't you picking your girl today?" Mercedes muttered in her ear, "She's the only reason we won on Monday."

Rachel stiffened but tried to keep her voice calm and quiet, "She's not my girl, Mercedes."

"So pick her because she's in Glee. Either way pick her so we have some chance against team-Cheerio over there."

Mercedes had a point about the unequal prowess between the teams so far, and even if she didn't, of course Rachel wanted to pick Quinn. She'd wanted to pick her first! It was killing her not to, and if Quinn had only looked at her once – given any sign that she would be happy to hear Rachel call her name – then she would have done it.

But Quinn was just standing there with her arms crossed, looking bored and not making eye-contact with anyone. Yes, it was obviously an act, but…

"She won't thank me for it. She doesn't want to be on my team. She doesn't want anything to do with me."

"You think she cares about that right now when she's stuck there feeling like a pork sausage at a vegetarian barbeque?"

"After the unpleasant treatment she received the last time I picked her for my team, yes, I think she would prefer this alternative."

Mercedes shrugged as she remembered the grief Quinn had been given on Monday and reluctantly said, "I guess maybe you're right," before stepping back to gossip quietly with Tina about it.

"Andrea!" Kassie finally decided, her voice unnecessarily loud but not as unnecessary as the spiteful look she shot Quinn at the same time.

Andrea looked shell-shocked as she warily made her way over. With acne, braces, and the unfortunate tale of how she'd wet herself at freshman homecoming because a boy asked her to dance still following her around, she was the only girl in their gym class – in their year, actually – who was ever picked after Rachel. It was a statement, and not a subtle one.

For a full thirty seconds her eyes pleaded with Quinn to look at her, to give her the sign that she needed, but Quinn was keeping her expression so carefully vacant that she could have been in a drug-induced trance, completely unaware of her surroundings.

"L…" Rachel had to clear her throat but it was still shaky when she announced, "Lara, please."

And just like that, Quinn Fabray was benched for the first time in McKinley High history.

It hadn't hurt. Yes it had been humiliating, but it hadn't hurt because she knew Rachel would have picked her if things were different between them.

Actually, you know what? Screw that, it had hurt! It still did. Rachel had just left her standing there and now not only did everyone think she was a lesbian, they thought she was a lesbian not good enough for Rachel-freaking-Berry!

Which apparently she wasn't, because Rachel had already told her as much.

Her life seriously couldn't get any worse at this point unless she, like, lost a limb or her parents found out about the baby, but naturally, as it happened, the embarrassment of not being picked was going to be the highpoint of this particular gym class.

Standing in front of her gym locker, she argued with herself. Should she leave before anyone could say anything and then come back midway through lunch to shower? Or strip off and act as if she wasn't expecting anything to be said? Leaving would suggest an admission of guilt. Staying could invite more ridicule. Staying gave her an air of authority and would prove that she wouldn't be cowed by them… but that would only last until she inevitably let them run her out of there again when it got to be too much.

It would have been easier to decide if she couldn't feel all of the sly glances coming her way. It was like they knew the battle going on inside of her and were eagerly – for some – and anxiously – for others – waiting to see which side won.

A part of her refused to give in to them a second time, but a larger part of her was a scared, bullied little girl who wanted to be gone before the taunts could begin.

She had pretty much made up her mind to just go when she heard Rachel say to someone, "Yes, for a school with such a diverse mix of students, you'd think bullying would be a thing of the past. I can only assume that our particular class has more than its fair share of bigoted, immature sheep than usual. Of course, letting them know they're getting to you only makes them stronger, which is why I never do."

Quinn didn't know what or who had prompted the remark, and maybe Santana's sneer of "What the fuck are you talking about, Treasure Trail?" meant that nobody else did either. It made her think, though, of what Rachel had gone through so often; of how she'd never backed down or given in, and… okay, she was still a loser and someone Quinn shouldn't model herself after, but, dammit, she wasn't going to let herself look weaker bytucking her tail between her legs and leaving the locker room without a fight.

After taking out her towel, she slammed her locker shut so hard the clang of it cut off every conversation in the room. Good! For the best effect she should have undressed unhurriedly, but she was having a slightly bloated day and exchanged effect for stripping-quickly-and-wrapping-her-towel-around-herself.

She'd only taken one step when Kassie's voice rang out, "Maybe we didn't make ourselves clear on Monday: we're not comfortable showering with you leering at us, Fabray."

Quinn turned to her as coolly as she could considering how hard her heart was beating, "Then don't shower with me."

"What?"

"You can wait until I'm done this time," and then, without hesitation, she strode towards the shower block at the end of the room, turning around at the entrance. "Any of you who do want to shower with me, feel free." She saw Rachel grin before ducking her head to hide it and it took all of her will-power not to blush, "The rest of you will just have to put up with being late for lunch."

"You can't do that!" Charity said, although it came out as more of a question as she glanced at Kassie.

"I can do what I want. And you can deal with it."

She thought she saw Santana smirk, which gave her a little more confidence. Having her best friend step up and stand by her side would have been even better obviously, but she knew well enough just to be happy that she wasn't taking the other side.

"You don't get to call the shots anymore, Quinn," Kassie sneered. "You're not our cheerleading captain now."

Had Kassie actually said that like she was the one in disgrace? The girl was a total moron! How hadn't she been flunked from the team months ago?

"No," she agreed slowly, "but I am still the cheerleading captain. And what are you, Kassie? Oh, right, nothing. Just like I predicted." Kassie just seethed at her. "Any more objections or can I take my shower now? And remember, the longer you drag this on, the later you will be for lunch."

"We'll wait," Kassie said, apparently answering for everyone. "Hey, I said we're waiting," she snapped at two girls who were already walking towards the showers and they slunk back to their lockers nervously.

"Fine."

It was the loneliest shower she had ever taken, which was a kind of strange thing to think about considering how she always showered alone as much as possible, but it was enough to make hot tears mingle with the luke-warm water running down her face.

The covert jam session had loosened them all up.

It was times like this when Quinn actually enjoyed being in Glee and wasn't just there because she was keeping an eye on her boyfriend and Rachel, or keeping an eye on Rachel for completely different reasons, or spying for Coach Sylvester. It was okay then, she enjoyed singing and dancing, and while it did help round out her extra-curriculars, it was also the one place in school where she would never be on top.

Not only that, but she had to put up with Rachel Berry being on top – they all did – and while that didn't bother her so much anymore, it still pissed everyone else off and created a palpable tension in the room more times than not.

When it was like this though, all of them just singing and dancing and having fun together, with no one pushing to be the lead or get the solo, it was a pretty awesome club to be a member of. She even managed to keep her smile when Mike pulled Rachel out of her chair and danced around with her for a few bars halfway through 'Ride Wit' Me'. It was a shame when it was over and she felt an actual pang – a tiny one but still – when "Sue's Kids" said their goodbyes and left.

She nodded her agreement when Rachel told Mr. Schuester how they felt about the split, even if did make her a hypocrite for being Coach Sylvester's ally.

"I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do about it, guys, but I have been thinking about what this means for us regarding Sectionals. Now that all five of you have vocals in It Takes Two, I think we should make it our group number. Which means we need a new duet, and I have the perfect one right here!"

Quinn was as excited as Rachel was when she was handed her lyrics sheet. She knew the song, loved it even, and as far as capturing her mood lately, there couldn't be a better one. It had only been two days and she already felt like she couldn't breathe without Rachel.

She didn't know why she was even the slightly surprised when Mr. Schuester gave the second lead to Finn, because Finn and Rachel were the power couple on stage if not where it counted, and it wasn't like anyone here would expect her to want to sing with Rachel. But she still deflated forlornly. Which, when Finn and Rachel eagerly jumped up ready to sing with eyes only for each other, quickly turned to anger.

"Mr. Schue, why do they automatically get the leads? They're already singing more of It Takes Two than the rest of us. Wouldn't it be more team spirited to mix things up a little? After all, we are working just as hard as they are."

Rachel looked frightened, like she was about to have some of her spotlight taken away from her. Which wasn't what Quinn wanted, but she'd take it if it meant she didn't have to watch Rachel making googly eyes at Finn every time they practiced the number.

Mr. Schuester was looking at her almost as if he was giving her outburst some real thought, but he was just trying to find the best way to let her down.

"This song is really more suited to Rachel's voice, Quinn."

"So, that doesn't mean anyone else can't sing Finn's part just as well as he can."

"Hey!"

She patted her boyfriend's arm, shushing his hurt remark, "You're a good singer, Finn, but so is Puck. Doesn't he deserve a chance?"

"Me?" Behind her, Puck laughed, "I thought you were making a fuss 'cause you wanted to be Berry's leading man."

She would not blush! She would elbow the laughing boy behind her in the stomach, and did so – hard – causing his laughter to turn to coughing.

Rachel was looking thoughtful now, "While Noah does indeed have a nice voice, I'm not sure if he is disciplined enough yet to be my leading man. However, I would be happy to sing with Quinn, if she agreed to a few vocal lessons before the competition."

Quinn scowled but couldn't say much when she knew even Rachel still attended vocal training every Saturday.

"Why do you wanna sing a love duet with Rachel?" Finn asked, sounding hurt more than suspicious, though no doubt suspicion would catch up with him soon enough.

"I don't! Why do you?"

"Okay, guys, that's enough. I'll take your considerations on board, Quinn, but we're going to stick with Finn and Rachel for now," Schue raised his hand when she was about to object. "While I appreciate you thinking outside the box, this is Ohio. I don't want to pander to the narrow-minded any more than you do, but we do have to remain accessible to the judges and I'm not sure they'll be ready for you two singing this song to each other, no matter how much you practice." His amiable chuckle masked the serious undertone when he checked, "Are you?"

Now she blushed, "That's not what… I didn't actually mean for me to sing!"

He knew though, didn't he? He was the only person she'd, you know, sort of come out to, albeit indirectly, and while he wasn't giving a lot away to anyone else, she knew he could see straight through her.

"If we make it to Nationals, though, I think your idea will really give us that extra edge against the tough competition."

As concessions went… it sucked.

"Okay, Rachel, Finn, get ready. We need to make this perfect, guys."

Quinn lined up alongside Brittany and Puck, ready to harmonize and sway in the background. Brittany gave her a sympathetic look that she returned with a frown. Puck gave her an amused look, while still rubbing his abused stomach, which she also returned with a frown.

And the next thirty minutes was total torture.

As the end-of-lunch bell rang, Rachel tried to catch Quinn's eye. Quinn caught hers easily and then dropped it as she walked over to tuck her hand under Finn's elbow, and they left together.

Puck didn't spare her a glance as he left, not that she expected him to, but Mr. Schuester – happy with how their first practice had gone – cheerily told her he'd see her after school.

Still distracted by thoughts of Quinn, she merely nodded in reply and slowly eased the No Air lyrics sheet into an empty plastic pocket in her Glee folder. Thinking she was alone, she jumped when she felt someone coming to stand right behind her. Spinning around, she jumped again, mentally at least, when she realized it was Brittany.

"Um, hi," she began warily, before guessing the problem. It wasn't hard, there were very few reasons why this girl ever spoke to her, "Did you forget where your next class is, Brittany? Because I would be more than happy to point you in the right direction if you tell me which lesson you have."

It was a perfectly valid question but Brittany still looked at her like she was stupid, "No, Rachel, I have a new system. I left a trail of Lucky Charms." She pulled a handful of the breakfast cereal out of the front pocket of her bag to show her.

"To a class you haven't been to yet today?"

"Oh. I didn't think of that," Brittany looked crestfallen for a second but then shook it off. "Anyway, that's not what I wanted to say. I wanted to ask why you didn't want to sing that song with Quinn."

"I…" did! was on the tip of her tongue but she couldn't say that, "I made it perfectly clear I wasn't opposed to the idea of singing the song with her."

"But you didn't fight for it, and you always fight to sing the song you want to sing. Trust me, I know, because it's so annoying. How do you think that made Quinn feel?"

"Brittany," she began slowly, because she was testing the words out before she said them. "Quinn didn't really want to sing with me, she just doesn't want me to sing with Finn."

"For someone who always knows the way to all her classes, you can be really dumb sometimes, Rachel," Brittany declared and walked away before Rachel could reply; stopping just outside the door, undecided, before she looked down at her handful of Lucky Charms and purposefully set off to the left.

Rachel watched her go, as bemused as most people were after being treated to a dose of Brittany's advice, and wondered if there was any wisdom in it.

Quinn was sent to the copy room halfway through fifth period to make duplicates of the homework worksheets and she used the escape to make a detour.

She rapped lightly on the office door, watching as Coach Sylvester's head shot up like a skittish chipmunk, and then went in without waiting for a formal invitation.

"To what do I owe this unexpected, and may I say unwelcome, interruption, Q?"

"We need to step up our game, Coach. Mr. Schuester is really…" she pulled a face, "…making the best of it."

"First of all, we? You clearly need to step up your game. Second of all, sit down and tell me everything."

She straightened her skirt demurely before taking a seat. If Mr. Schue thought he could get away with just dismissing her like that and throwing Finn and Rachel in her face, he had another think coming.