An authors note---I swear you guys have seriously made me the happiest person on the planet with the best, and largest response to a chapter yet. WOW. Thanks a million. This chapter is on the shorter side because the next one is pretty long and detailed. You'll see what I mean after you read it.

Disclaimer---Glee is the property of FOX, the creators and the writers.

Lean on Me

Artie glanced up at Quinn mid-spin. "Need a break?"

"No, I'm fine," she answered, completing that maneuver and immediately heading into the next one.

"You should really sit down Quinn," he reminded her as they swayed together in time to the music.

Quinn smiled at his concern. "Really Artie, I'm fine", she assured him and continued with their routine.

Artie wasn't all that convinced and took the slight break in both music and Quinn's attention to flash Mr. Schuester a discrete hand gesture. He nodded back to the boy and called out, "Okay, let's take five everybody."

While she took the time to fix her loose ponytail, Artie was thinking of ways to get Quinn to rest. "Here," he offered, patting his lap, "take a seat."

"You can't be serious Artie," Quinn stated, glaring at him incredulously. "If I sit down on your lap I might break your chair---or worse, your legs."

Artie let out a playfull chuckle. "I'm not that fragile Quinn."

"Maybe not," she conceded with a pointed shrug, "but I am definitely that heavy."

With a slight frown of disappointment, Artie scanned backstage for an alternative. He spotted a discarded chair behind a stack of ladders, retrieved it, and set it down next to Quinn. "There, now you can put your feet up here," he stated, patting his thigh again.

Quinn looked at him skeptically as she sat down. "But Artie, you hate feet."

"I hate bare feet," he corrected with a pointed smirk. "You still have your socks on."

Quinn glanced down at her feet clad in the white cotton ankle socks she'd taken to rehearsing in since barely any of her shoes fit anymore. With still some lingering reservation, Quinn gently placed them in his lap. She watched as he wrapped a warm hand protectively over her right ankle, and it left her wondering when he had time to pull off his gloves.

The weight of her legs on him was worrying her. She kept trying to shift and take some of the pressure off his lap. Artie felt Quinn tense again under his hand. "Relax," he told her as he rubbed his thumb over the soft skin on the base of her shin. They locked eyes, his conveying that he knew what she was concerned about, but there was no need to be, he was fine. Artie's thumb slipped under the elastic band of her sock. "Your ankles are a little swollen Quinn," he commented as he switched to check the other foot. "You should probably start limiting your sodium intake," he added, twisting around to fish in his backpack while he still held onto her feet with his left hand, "and drink more water." The bottle was produced and held out to her.

Quinn scowled in protest, "No Artie. I already have to pee like every half-hour as it is." Which reminded her, she should have gone before she sat down. Artie's grin just widened and he extended his hand further.

Mr. Schuester walked up to them while a glaring Quinn was reluctantly sipping from the bottle. "We need to block a few parts of the new choreography. Do you guys mind sitting out for a bit?" Quinn shrugged indifferently, and Artie gave an enthusiastic thumbs up that she found sneakingly suspicious.

After Will left the pair, Quinn took one last swig from the bottle then offered the rest to Artie, who shook his head no. "I don't have cooties Artie," she teased playfully, which rendered him speechless and made him redden like a beet. Quinn giggled. "I just don't want you to dehydrate or anything."

"I'm not gonna dehydrate Quinn," he chuckled dismissively. "I hardly even exerted myself."

"Oh no?" she quipped pointedly and slid her legs from his lap so she could sit up. Reaching her hand out, Quinn pushed his bangs from his forehead with her fingers, to reveal a considerable amount of moisture beading at the hairline.

Artie grinned sheepishly and tried to ignore the 'told you so' look Quinn was giving him. He twisted back around to find his own bottle from lunch, drained the rest in one gulp, then playfully tossed it at Quinn.

A squeal of surprise escaped her lips as the empty bottle bounced off her arm and onto the floor. Artie was able to thwart retaliation by leaning down to grab Quinn's legs and returning them to his lap. She could do nothing else but settle back into her seat and let Artie resume his previous task of rubbing comforting circles into her puffy ankles. Not that she was complaining.

Quinn let her mind drift off as she half watched Mr. Schue direct the rest of the class. A soft chuckle broke her concentration moments later. "What?" she asked, looking up to find Artie motion to her feet. She hadn't even realized she was wiggling her toes like that until he'd pointed it out. "Sorry," she whispered and immediately ceased the movement.

Artie wrinkled his face in confusion. "What'd you apologized for?" he asked curiously. But she didn't reply, just moved to pull her feet away again. Artie stopped her with his hand and scoffed, "Quinn, it shouldn't make you uncomfortable that you can move your toes and I can't move mine." He paused for a moment, then broke into a soft genuine smile. "I like watching you do it. I think it's cute." He gave a shy little shrug and blushed. "You do it all the time at home---it means you're relaxed."

And relaxed Quinn was. Just being in Artie's presence made her feel at ease. She couldn't help return the smile he was giving her as she quirked up a speculative brow and crossed her arms over her chest. "What else do you know about my feet?" she demanded lightheartedly.

Artie's boastful grin turned into a contemplative twist as he began to study Quinn's feet again. "Well, I know you're a trained dancer, so you have incredibly high arches." Stating the obvious, she'd let him have that one. "You wear the same size shoe as my mom---."

Quinn sighed and rolled her eyes, then cut in dramatically, "I used too."

"---because you guys swapped that one time," he finished his thought with a small chuckle of amusement. "You love to have your toe nails freshly painted, and pink is your favorite color. You like wearing sandals, but hate those cheep plastic flip-flop things. You have to wear socks to bed every night because your feet always get cold." Quinn was astonished by how precise his knowledge was---and a little freaked out. "And you have this little ticklish spot---," Artie ran a finger along the side of Quinn's foot, "right there."

Quinn squealed and pulled away. "How do you know that?" she gasped breathlessly.

Artie burst out laughing. "Everyone is ticklish there Quinn," he countered, flashing an innocent grin as he quipped, "Well, everyone except me."

"Oh Artie." Quinn groaned at his lame attempt at humor and rolled her eyes. With a mischievous smirk seconds later, she pressed her toes against the frame of his chair and sent him careening backwards.

Now it was Quinn's turn to double over with laughter.

"Hey, you could've knocked me off the stage doin' that," Artie scolded playfully as he pulled back up beside her.

"Well, somebody should learn how to apply his brake every once in a while," she countered pointedly, flicking the lever closest to her, down with her foot.

"You're pretty good at---."

"Hey kids, wassup?"

They both looked up at the same time to see Puck hovering over them with his hands stuffed low into his back pockets. "Artie's worshiping my feet," Quinn answered, smiling as she crossed them back atop their cushiony perch---this time without any prompting from Artie. He couldn't help but smile at that. "He seems to have a fetish of sorts," she added a moment later, shooting a teasing glance his way. He couldn't help but smile at that either.

"Yeah. Okay Man. Whatever." Puck may have sounded indifferent, but the wrinkled look of disgust on his face told a different story---and only added to Quinn and Artie's amusement. He avioded the boy all together and regarded her exclusively, "I was wondering if we could talk."

"Sure."

Puck waited expectantly for Quinn to tell Artie to leave and when she didn't, he cast a sideways glance in the other boys direction. But Quinn held her ground. "I um, wanted to ask you a question," he prompted, annoyed.

"Okay," she nodded casually. "Shoot."

Sounding more like a Abrams every day, Artie mused.

Puck must have been thinking the same exact thing, if the disgruntled expression he was wearing was any indication. "I know it's not for a few more weeks, but um, I was wondering if you were going to prom."

"I wasn't planning on it," Quinn replied saucily, "on account of being eight months pregnant and all."

Puck noted the tartness right away, and smirked at the brief return of Quinn's former attitude. Damn how he loved a feisty woman. And this one was pretty hot, even if she was currently as big as a house. "I know how important this kinda shit is to chicks---," he paused to glance over his shoulder, "---and Kurt. So I um, picked up one for you."

Quinn looked down at Puck's hand. "Noah, are you asking me to prom?," she gasped, hesitantly taking the ticket he was offering her.

He shifted to the other foot and threw his hands up in the air, "Well it's not like I just dropped a Benjamin for you to go by yourself."

"How thoughtful of you," her reply was seeping with sarcasm.

Puck's lips turned up into a sly smirk. "Yeah so I---."

"Oh hey Puck," Mr. Schuester called out, "we need you back over here."

He motioned back to Will, then turned and gave Quinn that smug look accompanied by a shifty wink that she thinks got her in this mess in the first place. Her stomach flipped suddenly, making her nauseous.

"Cool." Artie managed, trying to cover the slight crack in his voice with a cough. "You're going to prom."

Quinn regarded the ticket in her hand and forced a smile, but couldn't bare to look Artie in the eye. "I guess I am," she sighed.

"Hey Mom?" Artie called as he pulled up next to the kitchen sink. Alicia looked down at him, smiling. He scanned the room to make sure it was clear and stretched as tall as he could. "I'd like to do something nice for Quinn," he whispered secretively, "like a baby shower or something."

"That's so sweet Honey," she whispered back, leaning with her elbows on the counter to get a little closer to him. "What did you have in mind?"

Artie shrugged. "Something small, maybe with just the kids from glee club," he suggested. "An afternoon or early evening with some snacks and a cake. Nothing too extravagant," he smiled and rolled his eyes, "none of have a lot of money."

Alicia chuckled as she lovingly caressed Artie shoulder. "That sounds nice," she agreed, but her smile began to fade when she glanced over at the calendar hanging on the wall. "It's too late to do anything this weekend, next weekend is crazy, the weekend after that is prom and Abbey's dance recital, then Mother's day, then Nationals, then---Artie, the baby's due two weeks after that. That doesn't really give us any time."

He sighed heavily. "I know it's short notice, but I was kinda hoping we could have it here next Saturday."

"The day before your sisters First Holy Communion/8th Birthday combo party?" Alicia asked incredulously. But one look at those big blue pleading eyes and she nearly caved. "Artie?"

"I just figured the house would already be on party alert," he proposed excitedly, "with extra food and drinks---."

"And your friends will decorate for me?" she cut in with her own suggestion. Artie nodded and grinned from ear to ear. "And they'll help clean up the mess afterwards?"

"Absolutely."

"Deal." Alicia stuck out her hand to shake on it, but instead, pulled her son into a hug.

"Thanks Mom," Artie said when the finally broke apart. "I really appreciated this."

"I know you do," she smiled at him, "and you're welcome." Alicia watched as he turned away, then remembered something. "Sweetie, I forgot to ask---." Artie spun to face her. "How'd it go?"

Artie pursed his lips together. "It didn't," he answered timidly. "I chickened out."

"Oh Honey, what happened?"

"I tried to find the courage all week, even got as far as the ticket line at lunch yesterday." There was a slight pause as Artie began chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully. "I thought I'd have another chance, but somebody else asked her first." He gave a little shrug. "She's going with Noah."

"Artie, I'm so sorry." Alicia's heart twisted painfully. She'd seen that look so many times before. He wasn't sad or angry, just disappointed---and that hurt her even more. "What about Tina?" she asked in the next breath. Talking was about the only thing keeping her emotions in check. "I know she's only a Sophomore, but she can go if she's your date."

"Today was the last day to buy tickets," he replied simply.

"The school must have extras," she reasoned. "I'm sure if you go down to the office Monday morning---."

"Mom. Stop, please," Artie cut her off, flashing that confident smile that brightened up every single one of her days. "It's just a dance. I can go next year." But it wasn't just a dance to her, it was a rite of passage. Another in the long line of experiences that have passed him by throughout the years. "Which reminds me," he added, digging into his side pants pocket, "I have your money."

Alicia could barely hold back the anguish she felt for him. "Keep it," she managed to croak out around all of the emotion bubbling up in her throat. "You can use it to buy something special to give Quinn for the baby shower."

Artie smiled appreciatively, but shook his head no. "Then it wouldn't be from me though. I'd rather just use my own money."

It amazed her more every time, just how selfless her son could be. "Then use it for the party," Alicia insisted. "You can buy streamers and balloons---even little yellow duckies. Whatever you want."

"Okay," Artie conceded, grinning as he looked down at the crumpled pair of fifty dollar bills in his hand, "Thanks Mom."

Alicia nodded and waited until he turned and left the room before wiping away the tears that began pooling in her eyes.

An entire week of secret preparation taking place right under her nose and Quinn Fabray never had a clue.

"Dude, there's something wrong with this thing," Finn grumbled as he fought with the cardboard centerpiece he was trying to assemble, "it doesn't fit right."

Artie looked from the simple instructions to the work his friend had completed and chuckled. "That's because you put it together up-side down Finn."

"How did we get stuck doing all the manual labor?" Mike asked as he lugged another giant bag of ice to the cooler.

"Because we are men," Matt replied pointedly, and dumped the two liters of soda he was carrying, in with the ice.

"At least we're not with the girls right now---getting all pretty and pampered," Finn chimed in casually.

The gasp that escaped Kurt startled everyone. "Excuse me?" he demanded.

"The girls," Matt started to explain, "they took Quinn to the spa today."

"Tina told me they were taking her baby---stuff shopping," Kurt replied incredulously.

"But isn't that kinda the point of a baby shower---," Mike went on to say, "---to get all the stuff as gifts so you don't have to go out and buy it yourself?"

Kurt's eyes narrowed with envy. "Bitches."

Artie tried to suppress the laugh that was building inside of him as he reached for the ringing phone. "Hey Mom, what's up?" he greeted after looking at the number on the caller ID. He didn't give a chance to answer and followed with, "Where are you guys at? It's almost time to be back."

"Artie, we're on our way to the hospital," Alicia managed as calmly as she could in her present situation. "Quinn's water just broke."