Take Me As I Am

Chapter 36

By JewWitch

…

The Monday after the star Cheerios defected from the squad was noticeably awkward. Not just for the three of them, but for the entire school—Santana made sure of that. She waltzed down the hall looking fiercer than ever in her rarely-seen street clothes, her expression so predatory that most underclassmen literally turned and ran when they saw her coming. She managed to corner and terrorize a few before they could get away, however; and rather than using physical violence, she just ordered them around like servants, anxious to ensure that she was still treated with the same respect and fear as when she was a star cheerleader.

Brittany weathered the transition with considerably more grace, bouncing through life with her usual zen-like state of cheerful confusion. The only real impact her new ex-Cheerio status seemed to have on her was that she actually noticed all the appreciative looks from her fellow students (boys and girls alike), which had become more pronounced now that she was out of her uniform, and wearing seriously adorable outfits than only enhanced her vibrant good looks. Santana noticed this, as well—and she noticed all the other people noticing. There seemed to be a direct correlation between Santana noticing Brittany's many admirers, and the level of wrath with which she treated the rest of the student body.

Quinn, of course, was handling the whole thing with her usual quiet dignity. She looked breathtakingly beautiful in her sweet little sundress and cardigan; though Rachel could see the anxiety clouding her hazel eyes as they swept down the hallway on that first morning out of her uniform. She wasn't going on the attack like Santana—she was too evolved for that now, Rachel thought proudly—but her anxiety was still palpable, at least to the dark-haired diva who held her clammy hand as they made their way down the hall.

"Quinn, are you all right?" Rachel asked quietly, squeezing her girlfriend's hand in her own. "You seem a little jumpy."

"Yeah, well, I'm just trying to stay on alert for that first slushie facial we both know is coming. If they want to hit me, they're gonna find out exactly what the consequences are. And if they want to hit you…well, then they'll really find out." Quinn's eyes narrowed and her lip curled, making her look a little Santana-ish for a second. Rachel balked.

"That's a very chivalrous sentiment; but let's not jump to conclusions, okay? I know you're stressing about the social ramifications of your decision to defect from the Cheerios, and you're probably having flashbacks to last year, which I know wasn't exactly a cake walk…but there are some crucial mitigating factors you're probably forgetting." Rachel's tummy did a little happy dance when she saw a reluctant smile break over Quinn's face.

"I love it when you talk like a NASA engineer," the blonde girl grinned, shaking her head.

"I love that you understand me when I talk like a NASA engineer," Rachel replied, leaning up to tuck a lock of wavy blonde hair back behind her girlfriend's ear. "And I love it when you wear your hair down…haven't seen much of that this year." Quinn's smile disappeared as quickly as it had arrived, and she began walking briskly down the hall again, tugging Rachel along slightly faster than necessary.

"Um, thanks I guess. So what are these crucial mitigating factors I'm forgetting, about how awful my life out of the Cheerios was?"

"Yes, well. I hate to even bring this up, because I know it's a sensitive subject, but…being off the Cheerios wasn't the only change in your life last year. Getting pregnant might have had a little something to do with it, too." Rachel stroked her thumb over the back of Quinn's hand, trying to show that it wasn't an accusation; just a simple truth. Quinn just shrugged, staying silent.

"And there's another importance difference between this year and last year that you may not be fully appreciating," Rachel went on, her stomach wriggling in anticipation as they approached Quinn's locker. "Last year, you were kicked off the team; this year, you quit on your own, over a very serious safety concern vis-à-vis the advisability of allowing your teammates to be fired out of a cannon. It's a totally different position, and frankly, I think you're going to find public opinion on your side now. You're the captain; you were the one protecting the rest of the squad from Sue's lunacy. And her gunpowder." Quinn snorted a little half-laugh, shaking her head as she popped her locker open. Rachel watched her face expectantly.

"Oh…" Quinn gave a soft gasp as her locker door swung open, revealing a fragrant bouquet of pink and lavender lilacs balancing on top of her textbooks. Then she turned and raised an eyebrow at Rachel, who was grinning and bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet. "You know it's not Valentine's Day for another week, right?"

"Of course, silly. This is just day one of the countdown. I thought that since we didn't really get to do anything for Valentine's last year, between you being eight months pregnant and me having tonsillitis, we deserve to have twice as much fun this year." The dark-haired girl cocked her head, her grin faltering somewhat when she saw the small, sad smile on her girlfriend's face. It was her I'm really depressed right now, but you want me to be happy, so I'll pretend I am smile, one that Rachel knew well, but hadn't seen for quite a while. It made her heart drop like a dead weight into her stomach.

"That's really, really sweet, Rach. Thank you for the flowers—they're beautiful." Quinn reached out and cupped a hand to Rachel's cheek, giving her a quick, soft kiss on the lips. Then she scooped up a few books, closed her locker, and walked off to class with a quiet sigh. Rachel watched her go dejectedly; then her eye caught Brittany's across the hall. She had the same miserable expression on her face, watching Santana storm off to class in a cloud of gloom. When the tall blonde girl saw Rachel watching her, she pushed off the wall she'd been leaning up against, and crossed to meet the tiny starlet by Quinn's locker.

"What are we gonna do about them?" Rachel asked with a sigh, bumping her hip affectionately against Brittany's. The two of them had grown surprisingly close this year, often ending up passing the time together when Quinn and Santana stayed late at Cheerios practice to argue with Coach Sylvester over their routines, or tried to outdo each other at the gym for hours on end.

"We need to cheer them up," Brittany said firmly, in her most decisive, 2 + 2 = rainbows voice. "What do you think about planning a super-romantic-double-date for Valentine's Day? We could take them somewhere out of town, go dancing in Cincinnati or to a really fancy restaurant, or something."

"I think that's a great idea," Rachel agreed happily. Brittany beamed.

"We'll just have to make sure my cat doesn't follow us," the tall blonde added seriously.

"Oh yeah? How come?" Rachel asked, long over the impulse to question Brittany's insane non-sequiturs. In truth, she found her friend's ditzy-cheerleader-Zen rather adorable.

"She doesn't like being left behind when San and I go out. Last week she totaled my mom's SUV. I tried to get her driving lessons, but no one will teach a cat for some reason. It's probably better just to keep her from getting behind the wheel."

"I definitely agree," Rachel nodded, giggling happily as they walked to class together.

….

As the week went by, the scandal of the three top cheerleaders defecting died down, and Rachel was happy to see her predictions coming true—no slushies came their way, and after a post on Jacob Ben-Israel's blog confirmed to the world that their leaving the team was due to Sue trying to fire them out of a cannon without proper safety equipment, training, or consent, the whole student body seemed to have plenty of sympathy for the much-abused ex-cheerleaders.

The lack of backlash seemed to cheer Quinn up a bit; she was still moping around somewhat, but it was a little less each day, and Rachel knew she'd find her footing again soon enough. Santana, on the other hand, seemed in danger of going over the deep end. She didn't want sympathy—she wanted to be worshipped and feared, just like before. If being a star cheerleader wasn't going to provide that anymore, it seemed that brute intimidation was going to have to suffice. Rachel did her best to just stay out of the furious Latina's way, but that wasn't exactly a long-term solution—and Santana's wrath was even spilling into glee, where they really needed to be able to trust each other as they started preparing for Regionals.

"Mr. Schue? I have something I wanna say." Finn hopped enthusiastically out of his seat in the choir room as they were all settling in for rehearsal.

"Sure Finn," Mr. Schuester nodded absently. "What's on your mind?"

"Have you guys all noticed that this is the first time ever that a whole week has gone by, any not one of us has been slushied?" He grinned broadly, as if it were his sole accomplishment; but they all cheered anyway. It was true, after all—even in the wake of the Cheerios' scandal, they had obviously racked up some serious street cred with their halftime performance at the big game.

"Well, I think my leading the football team to our first championship win might have had a little something to do with that," Finn continued, making them all stop clapping and frown, miffed that he was taking all the credit. "Anyway, I'm the closest thing this school has to a celebrity right now, and I wanna use that celebrity to benefit glee club. What do you guys think about having a glee-sponsored kissing booth for Valentine's Day? We can all take shifts, so it'll be open all day long; we charge $5 a kiss, and all the money goes towards our trip to Nationals!" A collective groan filled the room.

"Oh, please," Mercedes rolled her eyes. "Don't be frontin' like you care about raising money for glee. You just wanna kiss a bunch of girls."

"Well, what's wrong with that?" Brittany shrugged. "We can do both."

"I don't have to kiss girls, do I?" Kurt asked warily.

"It is kind of a good idea," Artie agreed, pushing his glasses up his nose and grinning sheepishly. "We've never been collectively cooler than we are right now—why not cash in while we can? Trips to New York City aren't cheap." As they all fell into discussion on the merits of holding a glee kissing booth, Rachel slipped out of her seat and circled around to Brittany, and the two began whispering in the corner about how this plan might affect their Valentine's Day surprise plans for their girlfriends.

Quinn, busy talking to Kurt and Mercedes about what kind of lip balm would best prepare them all for a full day of puckering up, didn't notice her girlfriend slip away; but Santana did. She narrowed her eyes furiously at the tall blonde and the tiny brunette, watching their eager expressions as they whispered to each other, sitting very close with their knees touching, and occasionally grabbing each other's hands. Seeing red, the furious girl jumped out of her seat and stormed from the room without saying a word.

They spent the rest of rehearsal that day preparing the kissing booth, and the next morning, Rachel and Mike Chang were standing behind it, minty fresh and ready to take the first shift. They were both more than a little surprised to see how long the lines were already—the schedule of when each glee member would be working had been posted the day before, and Mike and Rachel had both volunteered for the first shift specifically because they didn't think anyone (besides their girlfriends, of course) would want to kiss them anyway, and they might as well just get it over with quickly.

"I didn't realize how kissable we were," Rachel joked to Mike, applying an extra coat of lip balm as the first football stud approached her, grinning from ear to ear.

"For real," Mike agreed, spraying an extra squirt of Binaca into his mouth and waggling his eyebrows at the shyly smiling Cheerio who was at the front of his line. "Who'd have thought that the quiet, skinny Asian kid and the pint-sized, loud-mouthed glee diva would end up dating two of the coolest girls in school?"

"We are living large, I believe is the term," Rachel nodded cheerfully, leaning across the table to take the $5 bill from her first customer, and give him his kiss—just a quick peck on the lips. She figured that $5 deserved more than a kiss on the cheek; that is unless Jacob Ben-Israel showed up, in which case she had specifically prepared a sign stating that the management reserved the right to refuse service for any reason.

A little more than halfway through their slot, Rachel and Mike were having a pretty good time. Rachel was surprised to find more than a few girls mixed into her line along with the boys; and it made her happy to think that maybe she and Quinn, along with Kurt, Brittany and Santana, had inadvertently helped the (very small, mostly closeted) LGBT population of McKinley, by showing them that being out at school wasn't necessarily a social death sentence. She'd have to remember to tell her dads about this later.

While she was pondering this, Santana marched up to her, pushing her way past everyone else in line. Rachel assumed she'd come to yell at her about something—the girl had that tell-tale predatory look in her eyes—but to her surprise, Santana merely slapped down a $5 bill on the table, grabbed Rachel by the back of her neck, and proceeded to kiss her deeply and thoroughly.

"Santana!" Rachel balked, jumping back from the kiss as soon as she regained her bearings from the shock of being kissed (rather well, if she had to admit it) by her girlfriend's best friend. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Sorry, chica. Just couldn't help myself. I wanted to see what Q's always going on about." Smirking devilishly, Santana brushed one finger across her bottom lip. "Gotta say, Berry—you're a damn good kisser." And with a little wink, she waltzed away, leaving a very confused, deeply blushing Rachel in her wake.

"What was that about?" Quinn asked bemusedly, raising one eyebrow as she approached the booth from behind, ready to take her turn and relieve Rachel from her kissing duties.

"Santana kissed me," Rachel said dazedly, still looking slightly shell-shocked. "Like, really kissed me. Like her tongue was in my mouth." Quinn's eyebrow shot up considerably higher.

"And what did you do?" the blonde girl asked, folding her arms across her chest.

"I pushed her away, of course," Rachel replied with a roll of her eyes, slightly offended that Quinn had to ask.

"Was it good?" Quinn asked, looking slightly more intrigued now.

"Dude, do not answer that," Mike whispered harshly, shaking his head at her seriously. Quinn smirked and rolled her eyes.

"I'm not mad, Rach. I actually saw the whole thing—she grabbed you, she kissed you, and you pushed her away. You didn't do anything wrong. I just wondered whether you'd be honest with me about it…and you were. That's very, very noble. I think you deserve a reward…" Wiggling her eyebrows, Quinn wrapped both arms around her girlfriend's hips and leaned in to kiss her, even more deeply and more thoroughly than Santana had. Rachel sighed happily, relaxing into her first purely recreational kiss of the day. Only the enthusiastic hooting and hollering of the people on line broke them apart, smiling shyly as their audience clapped and called for an encore.

"Rachel Barbara Berry, you are turning me into an exhibitionist," Quinn smirked, shaking her head.

"I prefer to think that I'm providing you room to grow," Rachel winked, reaching out and fixing Quinn's smudged lipstick with her thumb. "If you grow into being an exhibitionist, well…I can live with that." Quinn giggled, and watched the girl she loved walk away before turning back to her customers, ready to make some money for glee.

…..

Eight hours later, they gathered back in the choir room for their usual glee rehearsal, all looking extremely pleased with themselves. All told, they'd raised over fifteen hundred dollars for Nationals, and they'd all gotten to feel pretty studly in the process, reinforcing the victorious feeling they'd had as a club since their triumphant halftime performance. Santana, however, was not interested in any of this. She was watching her girlfriend like a hawk, looking for any telltale sign of illness or fatigue. But Brittany was her usual bouncy self; she babbled unselfconsciously about how much fun it had been to get paid for kisses, wondering whether she should do it again sometime to raise money for her cat to get a new BMX bike.

Santana glanced in confusion from Brittany over to Rachel, who was sitting behind them with her head in her hand. She certainly looked sick; her face glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, her eyes were barely open, and she kept wincing and feeling her glands. Santana frowned in confusion—she had been sure this plan would work. How had Brittany outsmarted her? Seriously, it just didn't make sense.

Then Santana saw Quinn trudge into the choir room, looking like she barely had the energy to lift her feet. She was so pale, her skin had an almost ashen tinge to it; and she kept blinking and rubbing her eyes, like it was the only way she could keep them open. "Aw, crap," Santana muttered under her breath.

"Okay guys, I have to say, I am really impressed with the way you all banded together on this kissing booth fundraiser," Mr. Schue said approvingly, waving the huge stack of cash in front of them. Everyone cheered loudly (except for Rachel and Quinn, who winced at the noise, both rubbing their foreheads). "Now, let's get back to business—Regionals are right around the corner. Rachel, I believe you had something prepared for today?"

"I don't think I can sing today, Mr. Schue," Rachel shook her head weakly. "I don't feel so good."

"Me either," Quinn agreed miserably, still rubbing one side of her head. "I feel sick. I think we need to go to the nurse."

"Shit," Santana hissed under her breath again; but this time, Brittany heard her.

"What's the matter?" The tall blonde girl asked sweetly, stroking back a lock of Santana's hair.

"I, uh…fuck…I'm sorry, Q." All eyes were on the stammering Latina now, totally confused and intrigued by her uncharacteristic expression of worry and regret.

"What do you mean? Did you make me sick?" Quinn joked weakly, coughing into her elbow.

"Well…" Santana's voice wavered, and she held Quinn's gaze, biting her lip anxiously. Quinn frowned in confusion.

"Is that why you kissed me?" Rachel asked, blinking slowly as she wiped her sweaty forehead on the back of her arm. "To give me sick cooties?" Santana's mortified expression was answer enough.

"What on earth would possess you to do something like that, Santana? Let alone to your friends," Kurt exclaimed shrilly, crossing both arms and legs as he glared at her. "And in the midst of a kissing booth? You could've diseased half the school in one day!"

"Oh please, like these two are giving anyone else tongue," Santana snorted dismissively. When the entire room continued to glare at her, she scowled and rolled her eyes. "Look, I'm sorry okay! I just thought—fuck"— she shook her head, obviously reticent to admit her reason for "borrowing" the germs from the nurse's office and passing them along to her friends. "I thought B and Thumbelina were messing around behind our backs, okay? I just wanted to call them out. So I kissed a kid in the nurse's office with mono, and…"

"You gave us mono? On purpose?" Quinn asked dazedly, sharing an utterly bewildered glance with her girlfriend.

"No, not you! Just Rachel," Santana shrugged. In the back of her fever-fogged mind, Rachel noted that it was the first time ever that Santana had actually used her first name; it was a testament to how flustered the girl was. Not that that made Rachel want to forgive her anytime soon. "She was supposed to give it to Britt, and then we'd both know they were cheaters. I was kind of sort of trying to protect you, you know," Santana shrugged helplessly.

"You thought I was cheating? Why?" Brittany asked, her voice small and sad as she blinked her big blue eyes at Santana in confusion.

"Because you've been sneaking off with the Keebler Elf all week!" Santana exclaimed defensively. "All of a sudden you're whispering together, running off together, smiling at each other…what the hell was I supposed to think?" Brittany looked over at Rachel, who gave her a weary shrug.

"You may as well tell her, Britt," Rachel sighed, laying her head wearily on Quinn's shoulder. "It's ruined now, anyway." Brittany nodded, turning sadly back to her girlfriend.

"The two of us were planning a Valentine's Day surprise date for the two of you," she explained in a small, soft voice. "We wanted to cheer you up about not being Cheerios anymore. That's what we've been talking about all week." Santana's expression was horrified. For a moment, no one spoke.

"Okay, well…this has been fun…thanks a lot, San," Quinn sighed, standing shakily and offering her hand to her girlfriend. "C'mon Rach, we need to…*sniff!*…uhh, we need to go see the nurse."

"Q, I'm sorry," Santana said again, grabbing the blonde girl's hand to keep her where she was. "I really thought they were screwing around on us."

"And you thought that biological warfare was an appropriate response?" Kurt asked dryly. For once, Santana ignored the jab, keeping her eyes on her friends, begging their forgiveness.

"Jesus, Santana," Quinn sighed, closing her eyes. "Are you really this insecure?" With that, the blonde girl pulled her hand back, reaching out for her girlfriend, who was also getting woozily to her feet. They knew that the glee drama would continue without them; but they were hugely relieved not to have to sit through it anymore, dragging themselves sluggishly down the hall to the nurse's office.

…..

"Well it looks like mono to me," the nurse confirmed unnecessarily as she stepped through the curtain, to the back room where Quinn and Rachel were curled up together on one of the hard, uncomfortable cots, already half-asleep. "Your parents are on their way to"—the nurse stopped short when she saw them cuddling on a single cot. "Oh, no no, I'm sorry kids. Just because you're sick doesn't mean there are no rules. It's one student per cot in here; one of you needs to move." Quinn opened her eyes a crack, blinking up incredulously at the no-nonsense expression on the nurse's face; Rachel whined miserably.

"Oh, for the love of God," the dark-haired girl groaned, blinking up woozily at the nurse without lifting her head from Quinn's shoulder. "Does it look like…we have the energy to fool around? We just…*sniff!*…want to sleep. Please." Rachel's eyes filled with tears, and her voice cracked a little, making her look extra-pathetic without even trying. Though she could cry on command when called for, she wasn't acting now—she really was that miserable. The nurse sighed and pursed her lips.

"Well…just this once. No hanky-panky back here, or I will separate you. Your parents will be here soon."

"Thank you," Quinn murmured gratefully, letting her eyes fall shut again. She didn't see the nurse's reluctant smile as she shook her head and walked out of the room.

"Looks like we'll be…doing exactly what we did on Valentine's Day last year," Rachel yawned, rubbing her thumb over Quinn's bellybutton—she was too sick and exhausted to manage anything else.

"Lying on the couch all day…drinking miso soup…and watching movies? Doesn't sound…so bad." Quinn murmured sleepily, then cupped a hand to her mouth to cover a rattling cough. "Ughhh. Santana is such a bitch."

"She has…some serious issues," Rachel agreed, with another yawn. They were both so bleary, they could barely manage to get out full sentences. "I'm really sorry…your surprise was ruined, though."

"S'okay," Quinn sighed, her heavy eyes sliding shut as she nuzzled a little closer to Rachel, shivering slightly. "Don't care what we do…as long as I'm with you…" Rachel giggled woozily.

"You rhymed," the dark-haired girl murmured sleepily. "You're a poet, and you didn't know it."

"Mm-hmm," Quinn mumbled. The next time the nurse came back to check on them, they were both fast asleep, curled up with the casual intimacy of two people who are used to falling asleep together. The nurse rolled her eyes, but grinned a little, throwing a blanket over their feverish bodies and waiting for their parents to come take them home.