Rachel showers and dresses quickly, slipping on a pair of ripped, whitish blue skinny jeans, a grey pullover, and a pair of Jordan "Space Jams." She ran a brush through her silky brunette locks a few times before tying the damp bundle into a tight bun. She deposits the brush into her bag, retrieves her phone and personal belongings from her locker, and with a quick glance in the mirror behind her, she goes on her way.

She bids farewell to the many girls still hanging around in the locker room, playfully whipping each other with their towels or gossiping within the shower stalls. The entire locker room smells of perfume and scented body wash, lotion, and hairspray. Clothes were strewn all over the marble floors; bras hanging out of partially closed lockers, and Nicki Minaj's Anaconda blasted from a portable speaker settled on top of someone's locker.

The tiny brunette can't stop thinking about the kiss. Quinn's lips and hair were so soft, and she smelled amazing, like Suave body wash and a hint of Nautica Voyage. Unlike Finn's clumsy and uncoordinated hands, Quinn's were soft and nimble, caressing her flesh with such gentleness it made goose bumps erupt all over her skin.

She bites her lip as she exits the locker room, ignoring the weird look the janitor gives her as she leans against the lockers, waiting for the other cheerleaders to finish up. Her mind was consumed with thoughts of the blonde point-guard. She wasn't certain what the kiss meant or actually was. A long awaited action or something that happened in the heat of an intimate moment?

She sighs as she pushes open the red gym doors. Quinn's teammates are yelling at each-other, as usual. She couldn't understand how this constantly bickering and rambunctious group of girls could be so in synch with each other in actual games, but the total opposite outside of them. A tall brunette looks about ready to castrate Spencer, who's cowering behind a very exasperated looking Quinn.

"I don't understand what the problem is," Spencer says slowly, "You deserved it."

"You must not know the meaning of a neck because that didn't call for a neck." The brunette growls, an evil smirk conjuring on her lips as she drags her thumb horizontally along her throat in a, 'you're dead,' motion.

"Guys, calm down. Honestly, it's like dealing with the football players." Quinn says, flicking her hand in irritation.

"We have a football team?" The tallest girl asks, causing the others to chuckle.

Quinn sighs, grabbing her bag from in between the bleachers and slipped it onto her right shoulder. She also retrieves a worn Spalding basketball, tossing it to the tallest girl as the Varsity girls' second unit entered the gym, shrugging off their bags and lining up along the baseline in preparation to pick teams for the scrimmage. "Don't let Spencer play the point." Quinn advises as she steps over to Rachel as they take their leave.

Rachel giggles as a loud, "Yes, ma'am," echoed through the gym.

An irritated, "Fuck all of you," followed the two girls as they exit the gym through the back doors. The walk to Rachel's Mercedes was quiet and slightly awkward. The brunette could see the blonde nervously picking at a loose thread on her red Polo crewneck. Santana's black 64 Impala or Dallas's Charger weren't in the nearly abandoned lot, so the brunette assumed they were already at Quinn's or indulging in plans of their own.

"Look Rachel." Quinn says suddenly, and Rachel feels her heart skip several beats. Is this the part where Quinn told her she didn't mean anything by the kiss and she's sorry it happened? Rachel bites her lip; she honestly wanted it to happen. She wanted it to happen since the day they stayed up late playing videogames after Finn's oafish outburst almost a week ago.

"I don't want you to think I did what I did to just do it." Quinn says, despite the fact that she did in fact do what she did in honor of her motto. She genuinely wanted to kiss the brunette. Motto or no motto, she wouldn't have kissed her if she didn't want to. "I did it because I wanted too."

Rachel looks up at the blonde, who looks at her with sincerity in her pretty eyes. She steps a little closer to the blonde, their shoulders and forearms touching with every step they make.

"I did too. I've wanted to kiss you ever since we played that weird motorcycle game in your room a few days ago, you know." Rachel admits shyly, never once breaking eye contact.

"Really?"

"Really, you're the prettiest girl I've ever met, but you're so much more than that."

Quinn's chuckle is deep and honey rich, sending shivers of warmth through Rachel's stomach. Quinn bravely leans down to press the faintest of kisses to the top of Rachel's damp hair making the smaller girl smile warmly. "You're not so bad yourself."

"Charming."

The first thing Rachel notices about her father, Leroy, is that he's acting very peculiar. He's nervously fiddling with his fingers, his dark eyes darting back and forth rapidly as if he's expecting something to jump out and bite him. Sweat pours down his face as if he's ran a marathon, staining his white Polo beneath his neck and his armpits.

"H-hey baby," he starts nervously, "What are you doing here?"

"Um, I live here." Rachel says slowly, trying to step into the house, only to be blocked by the tall, dark-skinned man. Quinn chuckles quietly, amusement dancing in her bright hazel eyes.

"How was school?"

"Fine."

"How was practice?"

"Challenging."

"Did you do your homework?"

"If you'd kindly step out of the way, I can get started on that…"

"Who needs homework anyway?"

Rachel narrows her eyes. "What are you hiding?"

Leroy gulps. "Hiding? I'm not hiding anything. Halloween's not here yet. What can I possibly be hiding?"

"Um, okay. Can we see our daughter than?"

"…"

"Daddy?"

"…"

"Daddy!"

"Huh?"

"I said, where's Dylan?"

"She's here…"

"Okay, so can we come in?"

"Of course…"

"So can you move?"

"..."

"Ugh! Excuse me!"

With her tiny stature and quickness, Rachel's able to out maneuver her father. She snorts to herself. And He claimed have been a football player… A thousand watt smile immediately lights up her beautiful face when she spies her daughter sitting in front of the couch, fiddling with her toy war plane while sucking on her pacifier.

Dylan's big, glossy hazel eyes sparkle with utter joy as her parents come into view. She sticks out her tiny arms, demanding to be picked up and squeezed with love and affection. Rachel playfully runs over, scooping her baby girl up and peppering dozens of little kiss all over her face. She doesn't notice her father's sigh of relief.

Quinn's heart melts a little as she steps over to her child and her mother, ruffling her kid's hair as she always does when she sees her. Dylan's toothless, dimpled smile and chubby rosy cheeks has the older blonde swooning internally. She wishes her shoulder wasn't immobilized, otherwise Quinn would be prancing around the living room with Dylan clutched protectively in her hands, singing the Circle of Life from the Lion King.

She's Quinn's perfect little Simba.

Rachel's eyes are sparkling too as she stands close to Quinn, wearing her trade-mark award-winning smile. Quinn kisses her baby girl on her forehead and lets her right hand settle onto Rachel's hip, smiling as she treasures her little family.

Frannie tiredly rubs her eyes as she sits on Dallas's bed. The older girl briefly stepped out, not telling the blonde where she was going or how long she'd be gone. She originally offered to take Frannie home, but she declined, claiming her house was too loud.

Dallas's house is probably louder. She lives with her hippy father and equally hippy four older sisters. The house was always filled with the gentle rumble of heavy bass reggae and old school hip hop, marijuana wafted from every room in the house, often shrouding the halls in a thick cloud of haze.

She waits for about an hour before the girl finally steps into the room. Frannie's curled up on the bed facing the wall, so she doesn't see what the girl holds in her arms. Dallas smiles widely as she gently crosses the room, her red and white Nike slippers making no sound on the soft floor.

"Frannie, I got you something." Her soft accented voice coos gently in the blonde's ears as she leans over her, black hair that smelled of rain and shampoo mixing with her pale blonde strands. Frannie groans to herself, curling into a fetal position as she drifts in and out of consciousness.

She plans on ignoring the dark-haired girl for leaving her unattended for so long, but after she feels a sudden wetness on her cheek, she recoils in disgust. Did she just fucking lick me? She thought, ready to tear Dallas a new one.

But what she sees immediately melts all the anger and annoyance built up inside.

A small, yet long-limbed puppy stares back at her, its big brown eyes filled with curiosity. Its fur is very short, but silky soft and smooth, carrying a rich brown and tan color with it. Its got a red ribbon wrapped loosely around its neck, its bobbed tail wagging furiously in excitement. Its fat paws clumsily get caught in the dark-haired girl's sheets as it tries to make its way to Frannie. Frannie's speechless as the tiny puppy clambers onto her lap and falls in between her legs with a small yelp.

"She's a Doberman, but she's a total sweetheart. Her name's Chop, but you can change it if you want." Dallas said with a grin, watching the blonde carefully lift the puppy from in between her legs. She nuzzles Frannie's hands, licking her palms and nipping on her fingertips.

Dallas leans over and presses a gentle kiss to her friend's cheek, laughing when the puppy jumps up and tries to lick beneath her chin.

"Happy birthday, Fran."

Quinn and everyone else told Frannie Happy Birthday earlier in the chapter even though her birthday's not mentioned. Get ready for some intense, fluffy, disgustingly cute, but utterly adorable family time next chapter. Maybe it'll come out even faster with the right amount of motivation. *Cough* R&R *Cough*