Oh Little Readers, you make me smile when a whole bunch of you give me ideas all at once, and now I'm trying to span it all out, to make sure everyone's ideas get included!

I will do my absolute best okay!

Quick shout out to elitemassacre6 for the Florence and the Machine song reference… I included that just for you!

Sorry for being MIA guys; to make up for it, I made this chapter extra long :)

Court

CHAPTER 24

High School, Junior Year

To apologise is to offer your greatest courage. To accept is to offer your greatest gift

For Frannie's senior major, before she had started College, she had been studying the art and philosophy of Buddhism. Quinn had never really been all that interested, she hadn't been old enough to grasp the ideas behind the teachings. Now however she understood what some of the stories meant. There was one that had been playing on her mind the entire week.

Once upon a time there had been a little boy with a bad temper. To correct his bad temper, his father gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he became angry, he should hammer a nail in the fence, in their back garden.

By the first day the boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. Gradually however, the number of daily nails dwindled down. The little boy eventually discovered that it was easier to hold his temper rather than to drive those nails into the fence. Eventually the day came when the little boy did not lose his temper once.

He ran straight to his father and proudly told him that he had overcome his temper. The father smiled at him, but suggested that the boy now pull out one nail for each day that he was able to hold his temper.

As the days went on, the little boy was finally able to tell his father that all the nails were gone, and he had pulled each one out. The father stopped his work and took his son by the hand; he led him to the fence in their back garden.

"Son," he said smiling, "you have done well, but now look at these holes in the fence. This fence will never ever be the same. When you say things in anger, they leave scars just like the ones you can see caused by the nails. You can lash out in anger at the people around you, and then you can apologise as many times as you want, but the scars are still there, and they remain there,"

Quinn wondered if all the anger in Glee Club right now would leave permanent scars, or whether they would all find bandages big enough to wrap them all together again.

Can you ever really call someone your own?

Like the way you would when you were little?

'No, that's my red pen'

'No, that's my barbie doll'

'No, that's my guitar'

Can you ever possess something to the point it magnifies itself into your own?

Can you ever own a human being?

Maybe it had never been about making Rachel her whole world, maybe all Quinn wanted to be was her favourite part in it. The more she tried to reason this whole mess in her own mind, the more she realised that each human being eventually becomes a character of their own, to be what others cannot and to say what everyone else can't.

There's a song by Florence and the Machine, called 'Cosmic Love'. Quinn had never listened to the lyrics as much as what she had today.

I took the stars from our eyes, and then I made a map

And knew that somehow I could find my way back

Things were fragile right now, as fragile as the small grass blades recovering from the winter, as the snow had started to melt away. Spring was on its way, a season that was meant for change, for renewal, a fresh start. Quinn wanted a fresh new start, she had hated this entire week. Rachel had avoided her so consistently, she may as well have been a professional, and Glee Club was a mess. Mr Schuester had consistently tried to remind them, that it was still a class they needed to be attending, but so far everyone was diverting the lessons.

Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too

So I stayed in the darkness with you

She felt darkness all around now.

Like something had killed the light in her eyes.

Sometimes it just takes one moment in your life, to come to a realisation that you should have made long before. Thinking about Rachel this week, only made Quinn want her even more; she just wanted to be with her. Thinking about her, Quinn's heart still beats slow and fast all at once.

God, how was she going to get her back when she couldn't think of the words to write?

And Quinn missed Kurt.

She missed him so much; and she didn't know how to get his trust back again.

There was gentle breeze about today; it was pleasant for a mid-afternoon Sunday, as Quinn rode her bike south along the town square. Picking up speed and then slowing down again, as though she was playing with the air around her. She could have driven, in fact she didn't understand why her grandfather had specifically asked her to meet her at the Pawn Shop this afternoon, usually she would just swing past his and they would walk together. Quinn rode past the library and peddled through the back of the car park, once she reached the great dip, the hill beared down on her like the road was falling over itself, but the sun was out, and it was tanning her thighs as she pushed her bike to go faster.

Quinn trailed one leg over the seat as she came to a stop beside the pawn shop; she leant the bike against the wall and smirked at how much it fit in with all the other piles of people's bits and pieces littering the junk yard adjacent to the building. She pulled her wallet and her phone from the small basket on the front of her handlebars and walked towards the entrance of the building.

"Quinnie!" her grandfather had shouted into the phone at 8:00am this morning, "I think I need hearing aids"

"Pop," she had muttered trying to wake up from the night before, "You get hearing aids from a doctor not a pawn shop,"

He hadn't listened.

So now Quinn was going to attempt to convince him that buying pre used hearing aids was both highly unhygienic and probably not legal. This had been the plan circulating in her head the whole way here.

Now, as she rounded the corner, she froze when she saw Kurt leaning against the small signpost outside.

She hadn't even had the chance to disappear behind the brick wall again, because he'd seen her too and their eyes had locked.

Quinn inhaled briefly, before taking tentative steps towards him, she had to do this.

"Hearing aids?" he asked as she approached him, and suddenly Quinn knew what her grandfather had intended.

Quinn nodded sheepishly, "I thought it sounded odd,"

Kurt threw his hands up in the air, and marched directly to her, "This is stupid," he said, "I'm being stupid,"

Quinn bit her lip, "I should have told you…"

Kurt looked at her, "Did you even know what you were doing?"

Quinn felt the lump grow in the back of her throat, as the tears welled and she had to stop herself from releasing them, "No," she whimpered, "I still don't…"

"Oh Little B, what am I going to do with you…" he whispered and he slipped his arms around her, bringing Quinn into a hug.

Quinn held onto him as tightly as she possibly could.

"I don't ever want to fight again…" she murmured.

"Well," he quipped, "at least we know your grandfather still has it,"

Quinn rested her head on his shoulder, "What am I going to do with my life…"

"As in one Miss Berry?"

Quinn nodded.

"Oh Quinn," Kurt sighed, "She's a diva and half, she probably wants to just come straight back to you, only she's being stubborn,"

Quinn shrugged, "She keeps avoiding me,"

"We've all avoided each other, you should have seen Finn in biology the other day; he needs to join that Rage against the Machine band,"

Quinn felt her stomach roll over, she'd forgotten about that.

There was a clap of hands and suddenly her grandfather had waltz out of the Pawn store holding an overstuffed brown bear.

"Excellent," he mused, "The plan succeeded!"

"Snips," Kurt said folding his arms, "That was extremely sneaky,"

Quinn watched her grandfather's face break out into a wide spread grin, "Boy I was in the army for years, you don't think I know a thing or two about tactic?"

"Pop," Quinn said frowning, "How'd you know,"

Her grandfather tucked the ginormous bear under his arm, "Late Thursday afternoon, Querida and her little blonde bomb shell came tearing up my driveway dragging your lovely Miss Berry friend,"

Quinn stilled.

"Next thing I know there are all these tears and a commotion about Glee Club being doomed because of star crossed lovers…"

Quinn opened her mouth.

"Quinnie I did not come down in the last shower," he mused, "I knew you had a little spark for Miss Berry the first time you brought her over,"

God she loved her grandfather.

"But what's all this drama about Glee Club not accepting you?"

"They were a little shocked," Kurt reasoned.

"But it's a club about show choir?"

"Grandad," Quinn reasoned, "Rachel and I haven't exactly seen eye to eye…"

"Quinn use to bully the absolute pants off her," Kurt said and Quinn felt her grandads eyes fixate on her, she instantly shrivelled in guilt.

"Quinn Lucy Fabray," he demanded, "my granddaughter does no such thing,"

"Not anymore!" Kurt corrected, "Quinn turned humble, she realised that being an egocentric maniac wasn't the best thing to be, so she joined Glee Club and met me,"

Quinn's grandfather was smirking at Kurt, "She annoy you did she?"

Kurt bit his lip, "Sorry," he whispered and Quinn hugged him, she figured she deserved his little verbal outburst.

"You're going to take this to Miss Berry," Arthur said thrusting it in Quinn's face.

"Pop," she moaned, "Who knows how old this teddy bear is, it looks mangled, its arms are nearly falling off,"

He shook his head and threw his hands in the air, "Quinnie, by coming here every second week have you not heard a thing about what I've been trying to teach you?"

Quinn flushed slightly, as she took the bear from her grandfather.

"It is never about the way someone dresses, or looks, or how they talk or if their interests are different to yours Quinnie, it's about the story that comes along with them. This great big broken, ugly looking bear belonged to one Miss Glynis Johns whom starred in the 1973 original production of A Little Night Music, as Desiree. Correct me if I'm wrong Quinnie, but is that not Miss Berry's favourite musical?"

Quinn was literally speechless.

Kurt hummed, "So her favourite isn't My Fair Lady, I always knew she was hiding something,"

"Pop," Quinn spluttered, "That's perfect,"

Arthur looked at her, "Quinnie, just because you think something will ruin another thing, doesn't necessarily mean it will. I can very much assure you that Rachel is nothing short of a little broken glass slipper that needs something to fill her again,"

Kurt hugged her grandfather for her.

"Marry me Snips," he shouted.

Quinn could easily distract herself. Keep her head buried in her books, focus in maths class for once, instead of just copying the answers off Mike. But there was a flaw in her great plan to avoid thinking about what was going on.

The great flaw; was that every time she paused, she would think of Rachel.

Quinn felt Mike slide a piece of paper across the table, he'd created this paper crane, with the word Open, written on its neck.

Glancing slightly to the front of the room to make sure her teacher wasn't looking, Quinn opened the crane.

I'm really sorry Q!

I am the biggest douche known to mankind, you and Rachel are my friends and I should support you.

I do…. . (my Asian sorry face).

Quinn had to hold the laughter in; she leant across the desk with her pen and scribbled on Mike's notebook.

Sorry+Mike = forgiven

He grinned at her, "Do you understand what the lessons about?" he whispered.

Quinn raised her eyebrows, "Geometry could apologise one hundred times and I would still not forgive it…"

"Wanna play angry birds instead?"

Quinn rolled her eyes, "Game on Mikey,"

It's funny to think that when you walk down the hallways or corridors of your school, one day you won't be there anymore. You won't stand at your locker struggling to stuff some unnecessary textbook back inside; you won't be shouting to your lab partner if the assignment was due this week or next, you won't be lounging around on the bleachers in the morning sun, and you won't be laughing at the CPR practice dummy in health class because some joker decided to dress it up.

High School is different for everyone isn't it.

Some enjoy it, other's despise it, some are just waiting for it to end, other's could stay there forever.

If you could pick one thing about High School that you thought everyone wanted what would you say?

Quinn had always thought it was to be noticed.

Now?

Now, she thinks that maybe all anyone ever wants in high school is to have people be nice to you, be kind, be considerate, treat people the way you would want to be treated.

Santana pushed Quinn backwards into the lockers, "Jesus San," Quinn cried.

"Sorry," Santana muttered, "But you've been so hard to get a hold of all day, where's your phone, why aren't you answering my messages?"

Quinn sighed slightly, "I meant to," she muttered.

Santana rolled her eyes, "God you are more mopey than my mother after watching the Season Finale of Grey's Anatomy…"

Quinn snapped her eyes at her, "Look I'm pretty sure I've been more than sympathetic when you and Britts have fought, now it's your turn to…."

Santana held up her hand, "Be calm Amigo," she said, "Did you write it?"

Instantly Quinn knew what Santana was referring to, "Well yes, sort of, it's more a song if anything,"

"Great," Santana said, "Give it to me; I will drop it to her after school,"

"You're going to go over to the Berry's household and hand deliver a love letter?"

Santana shrugged, "Quinn sometimes you do things that shock the living core out of me, like that time in middle school when you showed up to school with a pogo stick and demanded I bounce around chanting Dr Seuss quotes all lunch,"

Quinn slumped slightly; she'd gone through a really weird stage before Finn, and popularity, and whatever other confusion decided to engulf her.

"But I've never stopped supporting you have I?"

Quinn shook her head, "Santana I just…"

"I get it Q," she replied in the simplest tone, "Just let Britts and me be what we have all along,"

"What?"

Santana grinned as Quinn dragged out the letter from her backpack, "Number two and three in the unholy trinity, we got you Quinn, now let me go get Rachel,"

It's not often that you can look at something in three's and think it's a good thing. There's that saying three's a crowd or those three little blind mice.

But maybe once in a while something good does come in threes.

Santana, Brittany and Quinn; now that was something in threes that Quinn liked.

All day Quinn had tried to think of the most poetic piece of writing that she could ever conjure to insist Rachel not be so scared about them. In the end, she had come across a song that she had never heard before. Even though it was by a band she would never have normally listened to, Quinn felt the lyrics. She felt the lyrics so much, she needed to tell Rachel. So she had, in the letter that Santana was going to deliver to her after school.

You seem quite nice for a girl with good looks

And I'm the kinda person that'll make you feel better when your life gets shook

So give it a chance according to your plans

I bet I'm not number one on your list to kiss, but please understand

You seem quite shy, but you're oh so cute

And I'm the kind of girl that would love to be yours if you asked me to

So just take a chance, try to hold my hand

I swear I'd never let go

I really want to come out and tell you

Oh darling, I love you so

If you'd ask me for my heart, there's no way that I'll say no

Oh darling, just take a chance please

So we can stay together till hell starts freeze

And yet the whole way to her history class, Quinn couldn't help but think, that Rachel had been so quick to surrender what that had only just begun.

Santana Lopez not slushy-ing her was one thing, Santana Lopez smiling at Rachel as she walked down the corridor was the another thing, but Santana Lopez showing up on her front doorstep was just about the icing on the cake.

Rachel had opened the door, frowned, and then literally asked if Santana had been lost.

"No," she had quipped, "Where's your room?"

Short of wanting to use her father's asthma inhaler, Rachel had led Santana up the stairs and watched as she made herself comfortable amongst her pillows.

"Your room's not half bad Berry," she mused looking around, "I was expecting Barbie dolls,"

Rachel pouted, "Santana, short of your pre opinion, I believe in the arts, my room sparkles with glitter,"

"Oh god," Santana made a face, "No speaking about glitter, Britts is too obsessed with Ke$ha right now, and I'm mildly jealous,"

Rachel folded her arms, why was she so nervous in her own room? This was her room, Santana was the one intruding, this was her castle, and she needed to take charge.

"Santana, why are you here?"

Santana stopped staring at the small Patti Lupone shrine on Rachel's desk to look at her, "I have something from Quinn," she said.

Rachel stilled.

"You have what?"

"A letter," Santana shrugged.

How was this possible? Why did Santana have a letter? Why hadn't Quinn left it in the library or on her car windshield?

"Quinn wanted to store it away somewhere that you'd find it, but I figured I'd hand deliver it and give you a little piece of my mind too,"

Question answered, nerves now present.

"How'd you feel when you dated Finn, Rachel?"

This was not the question she had been expecting.

"Good," she muttered, "I guess,"

Santana rolled her eyes, "Oh for Christ sake" she cursed.

"Santana, I really did care about Finn, he just didn't understand me the way Quinn does," and she closed her mouth realising she'd just answered the question she had been asking herself all week.

"When did you realise that?"

Rachel fiddled with the bottom of her sweater, "She took me to the space museum,"

Santana had one of her, 'I'm going to tell you how it is' looks on her face, "Quinn surprises you like that," she responded.

Rachel frowned, "I don't understand,"

"Rachel, I've known Quinn a long time, a lot longer than Britts, a lot longer than anyone in Glee Club, god even Finn," she paused slightly, "She's been this shell for so long you know, and very rarely she has shown these small bits of what's on the inside of that shell, but it doesn't mean she hasn't been listening the whole time,"

Rachel still grappled with what she meant by this.

"Listen Berry," Santana said eyeing her, "Chances are Quinn knows you a hell of a lot better than you think she does. She's like a pineapple; she's all hard and tough on the outside, but on the inside she's romantic and sweet and gentle, and she loves you, she loves you so much I will literally impound you if you break her heart,"

Rachel gulped, "Santana I don't want to hurt Quinn, I just want her…"

"So what's stopping you?"

"What if my own wants destroy what the Glee Club wants? I'd never live with myself,"

"For the love of seeing Brittany sunbaking, you two have made each other backward," Santana groaned, "Quinn's being all emotionally out of control and you're putting other peoples performance needs in front of your own,"

"Santana," Rachel replied defensively, "I want the absolute best for Glee Club, you guys are my…."

"Family," Santana finished for her, "and as a family, we accept whatever happens. Don't worry about everyone Rachel, I spoke to them, four way conversation between Mike, Artz, Tina and Cedes, they were just disappointed you guys didn't come to us…"

"Santana we were scare…"

"Me and Britts were the same," she said interrupting, "They just needed a wakeup call, from someone whose been there done that, they get it okay, with the exception of Pastry bag and Pucky Puck," she narrowed her eyes slightly, "Which will be seen to… but for now you just need to stop being such a nuisance…"

"How do I get Quinn…?"

Santana rolled her eyes, "Like normal people Rachel, call her…"

"But I want to see her…"

Santana huffed, "Seriously Berry, this is the last favour I do for you today, I will go and tell Quinn to get her ass over here because you're car-less tonight… where are your Dads?"

"It's Gaga appreciation night at their best man's house, they've done it for years, but look Santana, I can ride my bike…"

Santana glared at her, "Its dark now Rachel, you'll be like one those small little bunnies hoping along the highway just waiting to be road kill,"

Rachel seemed aghast for a moment, imagining herself with fluffy white ears and a tail, absolutely not the look that would get Quinn back.

"Santana, thank you" Rachel said softly.

Santana stopped in the doorway before leaving, "Do me a favour?" she asked.

Rachel nodded.

"Call me San, my friends do…"

People can say sorry as much as they want to. They can repeat it as many times as they want, over and over until the word becomes fixated permanently on their lips. But you'll never know how sorry a person is, until you look into their watery eyes, hear the sadness in their voice, and realise they've hurt themselves just as much, if not more, than they ever hurt you. Santana had called not even half an hour ago; told Quinn that she had left the letter with Rachel and now would be the best time to drive over there. It had taken another fifteen minutes for Quinn to pull courage out of thin air.

On the way over, she had realised she'd left the Savage Garden CD in the stereo player and Truly Madly Deeply had clicked over. Rachel's face may as well have been carved into the dashboard.

The front door had been opened by Hiram, dressed in a bright blue jumpsuit with stuffed animals hanging off him.

"Lady Gaga affair," he had shrugged as he let Quinn inside, "Rachel is in her room,"

Quinn had nodded and passed Leroy on the couch, "Forgot how to get here had you?" he had queried and she knew he had been talking about her absence this last week.

"A little," she had murmured under her breath and then she had taken the stairs and knocked on Rachel's bedroom door.

When Rachel had let her inside, Quinn had this unrelenting urge just to fuse their lips together, but then something inside her was ticking over, this small feeling of anger that Rachel hadn't fought for them as much as what she had.

After moments of staring at each other, some broken sentences thrown up in the air, Quinn was now irritated.

"You just gave up on us Rachel," she said, folding her arms, "You gave up on us before we'd even started, how am I supposed to believe you really want this?"

Rachel's eyes were fixated on the ground; she was completely still, as though she wasn't breathing.

"Look at me!" Quinn demanded, and she watched as Rachel drew her eyes upwards.

God that look, that longing intense look.

"You're better than me," she whispered.

"What?" Quinn frowned.

"You could have anyone on this planet Quinn, you're the prettiest girl I've ever met," Rachel let the tear fall from her eye, "But you're also much more than that,"

"Smalls," Quinn replied softly.

"I saw how everyone reacted, how the hell could someone like me have a girl like you,"

Quinn immediately dragged Rachel forwards, "Stop," she said firmly; she wanted to shake this stupid logic out of her.

"I don't deserve you," Rachel whimpered, "I'm such a loser,"

"You don't realise it do you?" Quinn said gently, brushing Rachel's hair behind her ear, god it felt so soft beneath her fingers.

"Realise what?"

"That you're beautiful,"

Rachel immediately flushed, "Fives…"

"Be quiet," Quinn muttered and she brought her lips to Rachel's. She would never forget the feel of her lips. How soft they were, how sweet they tasted, how they curved and fit with hers, and how Rachel would always part them straight away to allow Quinn inside.

Quinn pressed against her gently, pushing Rachel against the desk.

"You're mine," she whispered and she gripped Rachel's thighs.

Whimpering Rachel slid backwards on top of her oak desk, letting Quinn slip between her legs.

"God Quinn Fabray," she murmured and she dragged her nails down Quinn's back.

"Smalls," Quinn whispered, running her lips across Rachel's jawline, and down her neck, "Please be my girlfriend,"

Rachel seemed to immediately still, causing Quinn to look at her.

"Or not…" Quinn responded.

"No," Rachel stammered, "It's just…" she bit her lip, staring at her.

"It's just what…?"

"I want my Dads to know first…"

"Oh Rachel," Quinn groaned, "In the past week I've been outed to Glee Club and my grandfather, can we hold off on our parents?"

Rachel pouted, "Fives, if you want this to be right, then I want our parents to know,"

"Okay your Dads then…" Quinn responded shrugging.

"And your parents too,"

Quinn shook her head, "I think not, pregnant last year, a lesbian this year, they'll ship me somewhere…"

Rachel tightened her legs around Quinn, making her stomach flip slightly, just a little closer and she could be in the best position to start eliminating clothes.

"I thought we said no labels?"

Quinn bit her lip, how you define yourself these days, when labels are something that shouldn't matter and you're just trying to prove to the world that maybe life's about falling in love with another human being, falling in love with a person, regardless of their gender.

"Rach…"

"I want it to be right," she replied and she kissed the corner of Quinn's lips, "No more secrets,"

God how the hell was she supposed to refuse?

"When do we tell them?"

Rachel grinned, "Now!"

Quinn didn't have the time to protest, because Rachel pushed off the desk, planted her feet on the ground and then proceeding to drag Quinn into the lounge room.

It had taken a lifetime for Quinn to recover from her elementary school incident. It had been her first presentation in front of her class about the importance of Native Americans. Everyone had been dressed in cultural outfits and face paint and she'd had more than a dozen eyes glaring at her. She opened her mouth to deliver her opening line, and instead she projectile vomited on an exchange student from Kenya.

Ever since, she had always hated public speaking. It wasn't a case that she couldn't fake the confidence, because she could, and she could do it damn well. It was more a case that she would get this nervous tick in her stomach and have to fight with her body not to pass out from the nerves.

That feeling, times ten million was how she felt in this particular moment. When Rachel had waltz them into the living room and promptly told her father's that Quinn had an announcement to make.

"Are you two going to be giving us a rendition of Proud Mary?" Leroy asked hopefully.

"No," Rachel quipped, "Although I do have to download the sheet music for that," she looked at Quinn, "Quinn wants to ask you something,"

Quinn's throat was dry; like she'd just stepped into some distant Arabian desert and the water supply chain had gone bust.

"Yes," Quinn stammered.

Leroy turned down the volume on the television; he was smirking, which was just making Quinn even more nervous.

"Well go on," Hiram urged, moving slightly on the couch.

"Can I be your girlfriend?" she blurted out; just like that time in elementary, only this was word vomit.

"Well," Leroy mused, "There's two issues with that, one being I'm married sweetheart and two, I don't exactly swing that way,"

Quinn flushed bright red, had she replaced your and Rachel she might have succeeded with the correct sentence.

Rachel rolled her eyes, "Daddy, Quinn's tongue tied, because she's nervous,"

Leroy looked at Quinn with his eyes raised, "Am I correct in thinking that you're the one who stole my baby girl's heart?"

Quinn gulped he was staring at her so intently she wasn't sure whether he was happy about it or not.

"What if I say yes?" she barely managed.

Leroy grinned, throwing his hands in the air, "Hiram," he said tapping his thigh, "Look what our girl snagged! She's got herself one of those hotties!"

Quinn flushed bright red.

"You two think we didn't have some idea of the relationship brewing?" Hiram asked, "Don't feel threatened Quinn, we liked you the moment you decided to watch Walking with Dinosaurs with us,"

"Which has another season coming soon," Leroy quipped.

Quinn let go of the breath she had been holding.

"Well Rachel," Leroy said impatiently, "Get your girlfriend a slice of my cheesecake would you?"

Rachel grinned; kissing her father's each on the cheek as Quinn still recovered from her parent public announcement.

In one swift motion, Rachel had caught hold of Quinn's arm and was pulling her into the kitchen.

The Berry's kitchen was one those quaint country styled interiors, with a hint of Jewish culture wrapped up in the utensils and coffee machine sitting on the bench.

"Smalls, that was not the way I had planned to ask…"

But Rachel had already slammed her against the fridge, causing it to rattle the containers sitting on top.

"mmmm Quinn Fabray, my girlfriend…" she whispered.

Quinn cupped her face, "Rachel Berry," she murmured, "Mine,"

Rachel's eyes lit up, "Can we get a joint name like Santana and Brittany?"

Quinn rolled her eyes, "Hold your horses baby," she muttered, "I still have to deal with my parents,"

"Quinn, parents love you no matter what,"

Quinn sighed, kissing the top of Rachel's forehead, she didn't want to admit that sometimes in certain circumstances, things were more complicated than that.

"Where's my cheese cake?" Quinn asked, changing the subject, and pressing harder against Rachel, just to watch her squirm.

She playfully bit Quinn's hand, before turning and reaching into the fridge.

Maybe this would be okay; maybe she would just sit her parents down and tell them the facts. She was in love with a girl and she had never felt more alive in her life.

God this sounded so much easier writing it in letters.

"Baby?" Rachel asked and Quinn looked up.

Her mouth was simultaneously met with a plate full of strawberry cheese cake, as Rachel squashed it into her chin.

"Smalls!" Quinn squealed and Rachel took off running around the bench to escape her.

Quinn wiped the cream from the side of her cheek and placed it in her mouth.

Definitely amazing cheese cake.

"You're in trouble," she teased, edging towards her.

"That's payback for asking my Dad out before me,"

Quinn folded her arms, her eye's glistening, "Well, with you being my girlfriend I was going to suggest you lick this off me, but I can play the game too Rachel Berry,"

"Wait!" Rachel protested, abandoning her wooden chair shield, "I'm starving,"

"For cheese cake?"

"No, for Quinn Fabray," Rachel grinned and Quinn laughed as she captured her lips, cheesecake and all.

Everything about this moment, reminded Quinn of something she had read once, stated by a man called Howard Thurman; that perhaps we shouldn't ask what the world needs. Perhaps we should ask what makes each of us come alive, and obtain it. Because what the world actually needs are people who have come alive.

Sue Sylvester had made is extraordinarily clear that if they failed her in the Cheerleading Nationals this year, she would create mini Cheerio's voodoo dolls and set about destroying their lives. Quinn absolutely whole heartedly did not for a moment think she was lying.

Right now though, Glee Club was only half mended, if they were still going to reach Nationals in New York, they needed their lead male vocal back, and as much as it pained her to say, they also needed their smooth criminal.

"I swear I'll go Lima Heights adjacent on your little ass Berrybox,"

Quinn frowned as Santana tore the piece of paper from Rachel's grip.

"San, paper cuts do happen!" Rachel replied sucking her thumb slightly.

"And why are you calling my girlfriend Berrybox?" Quinn queried, trying not to melt as Rachel beamed.

"She's my new juke box," Santana reasoned and Quinn saw the analogy.

"Santana you don't press buttons and she will just pop out tunes at random," she corrected.

"No she does," Brittany said crawling from the couch to lie beside Rachel. She playfully pressed her finger to Rachel's nose and simultaneously Rachel opened her mouth.

I don't need to try to control you

Look into my eyes and I'll own you

With the moves like Jagger

I've got the moves like Jagger

Quinn laughed and Brittany then pressed her finger to Rachel's cheeks,

You can be the sweet tooth I can be the dentist

You can be the shoes and I can be the laces

You can be the heart that I spill on the pages

"Point taken," Quinn responded.

"We need tactics," Santana complained, "Without Finn and Puck we don't have the numbers for nationals,"

"Which happens in three weeks!"

Quinn glanced up as Kurt waltz into her grandfather's lounge room, carrying an oversized manbag.

"I see Snips is working on his pre summer tan," he mused.

Quinn rolled her eyes, "He feels left out not coming to Greece,"

"Kurt," Santana remarked glaring at him, "Your manbags keep getting bigger,"

"Do you think we could fit Lord Tubbington in there?" Brittany asked, "My mum never let me take him to show and tell, and he's always wanted to just experience school,"

"Santana," Kurt responded, "Kiss your girlfriend before I put a sock in her mouth to stop her from speaking,"

Santana pecked Brittany's cheek, "I would carry Tubbs around all day baby," she whispered.

"Not in the best mood?" Quinn asked as Kurt flopped down on the empty armchair.

"Three weeks," he cried, "Three weeks and lurch and the jester are the reason we might be forfeiting New York,"

"It's not an option," Rachel replied defiantly, "I would rather eat caterpillars than have my rights to Broadway taken away,"

Kurt smirked at Quinn, "How do you feel about the taste of caterpillars Little B?" and Quinn grinned, watching Rachel turn bright red.

"We need a plan," she said matter-o-factly, retrieving the paper Santana had stripped from her.

Santana groaned, "If you draw one more diagram!"

"Girls!"

Arthur walked into the room, just as Rachel was struggling to pry the pen away from Santana's grip.

"And Kurtis," he corrected.

"Compliment taken," Kurt quipped.

"Aren't you kids hungry?"

"Pop, we ate not even an hour ago,"

He shrugged his shoulders, his face pinkish from sitting in the sun too long, "Well your generation has an extra stomach these days. How bout I just put the kettle on?"

"Oh and pop tarts Snips!" Kurt said jumping up.

"Boy, you will turn into a pop tart," Quinn heard her grandfather grumble as Kurt followed him from the room.

"Thank god for your grandfather Q," Brittany said smiling slightly, "This old house is like our safety zone,"

Quinn smiled to herself, she couldn't thank her grandad enough for just how openly well he had accepted things.

"Now if you need time Quinnie, you and your little Miss Berry just come here, you just make yourself some tea, play a game of chess with your Pop, and your secret is safe with me until you're ready to tell it," he had said the other day.

At least they were protected in this house. Just for a little bit longer.

Mr Schuester had his eyes raised, "Girls, Glee Club is about free will, you can't just bet Finn and Puck's place,"

"Yes we can," Santana responded.

"And what about safety girls? None of you play football?"

"Schuester that is sexism and I don't like it," Santana said defensively.

Mr Schuester groaned, "Santana how many times do I have to…"

"YOU'RE ON!"

Puck had burst into the room waving the purple flyer Quinn and Rachel had created last night.

"Puck," Mr Schuester tried reasoning, "You're here now, why don't you just stay for the lesson, play a few tunes, we can work this out,"

"No way,"

Quinn inhaled as Finn stepped into the room, "You girls are on, if you win we'll come back to Glee Club and go to nationals, but if we win…"

"We get your free tickets to New York and you stop asking us to come back!" Puck grinned.

Mr Schuester's face said everything, he was absolutely not happy about this.

"Can you guys actually hear yourselves?" he asked, "You're betting on the participation in this club, I do not condone this,"

"What's done is done Mr Schue," Mercedes reasoned, "This game is being played outside school hours, you don't have a say,"

"But it's absolutely ridiculous; you girls could get seriously injured,"

"Finn and Puck will be easy on them," Artie offered, glaring at them both as though he thought they were making just a big of mistake as the girls were.

"Hell no we won't," Puck responded folding his arms.

"They're not the only ones who can break stuff," Finn said and his eyes fell directly on Quinn.

. . .

You could almost say that football is a lot like chess. It's part war and part controlled mayhem. Every move a player makes is very specific, as the success or failure of any player can be the result of one misstep or one successful outlet.

The snow had melted away, and replaced the oval with fresh pockets of greenery to start another spring. Santana and Brittany had snuck into the boys locker rooms and found uniforms. After Rachel had doused them in Pine-O-fresh, they had managed to squeeze into the ones worn by the freshman's, who were still short and little.

Quinn now stood on the open field, with a helmet planted over her head watching and laughing as Rachel jumped up and down on the spot.

"Let's kick some ass!" she yelled.

Tina had her hands on her hips, "Santana this is the absolute worst plan you have ever had in your life,"

Santana flexed the ginormous shoulder pads, "Actually I think it's the best,"

"You want us to play a game of football against grown boys, who actually play football to win a bet?"

"And when we win, we will never let them forget it," Brittany quipped.

There was one simple rule.

First team to three touchdowns wins.

This was going to be short and simple, Mr Schuester had threatened to ring parents if they hadn't come to some sort of comprise. There was so much about standing here that reminded Quinn of courage. Reminded her that maybe courage doesn't need to be about who can roar the loudest, maybe courage is just about the person who says in the softest voice, 'I will try again tomorrow'.

Courage was definitely needed within the first ten minutes of the game when the boys had already scored a touchdown; twice.

But then, out of movements Quinn didn't even think she had, Tina had somehow captured the ball and taken off up the field.

Touchdown.

The whistle blew again, and this time Rachel caught hold of the ball, sprinted up the field and as Quinn swelled, the girls were rewarded with another touchdown.

Now they were even 2:2 the next touchdown made the bet.

Finn had called a huddle between Puck and a couple of the other football players. Quinn watched as they spoke in low voices.

"We should cuddle too," Rachel said.

"Huddle," Tina corrected.

"How exactly are we planning on winning now?" Mercedes asked, looking at Santana.

Brittany grinned, "We create the ultimate diversion,"

"I don't understand," Quinn replied frowning.

"Go set it up baby," Santana smiled and she kissed Brittany before she bounded out from the huddle.

"Santana I'm really rather nervous," Rachel responded honestly.

"Rachel trust Brittana, we got it,"

Mercedes rolled her eyes, "Oh please with your joined names,"

"Well at least I have a joint name, you would be Totcedes!"

Mercedes shrugged, "I like me some tots thanks,"

There was a clap and suddenly the game was back on again. Quinn stood legs apart, shoulders flexed, staring at the figure in front of her.

It was Finn.

He was running, he was running really, really fast; so fast Quinn really did not think that they were going to be able to stop him in a million years.

And then Brittany came out of nowhere with Kurt's oversized manbag, she opened it just to the side of the field.

BANG.

Lord Tubbington in all his glory shot out from the bag and tore directly towards the boys as they ran in line with Finn.

Shocked; Finn dropped the ball.

Quinn watched in nothing short of confusion, as Santana skipped passed Brittany and grabbed the ball, she took off down the field, running as the boys tripped over Lord Tubbington rolling between their legs.

And then,

TOUCHDOWN.

The girls had won.

There was nothing else to do.

Quinn burst out laughing.