Pairing: Quinn/Rachel
Spoilers: Anything up to…Silly Love Songs I think.
Rated: R for language

A/N: Well…still Unbeta'd. Sorry for all mistakes, feel free to point them out. Reviews would still be very much appreciated, as we all know authors live off of them.

A/N: There will be more interaction between our intrepid heroines next chapter, I promise. :) Hope you enjoy!

The bedroom was quiet, but there were the usual sounds of Sunday afternoon at the Jones house. Mercedes pitched her voice low anyway. Calvin was only a few years older than she was, and was not above snooping.

"Okay Quinn. Putting the phone down now."

She put her cell phone like it was a loaded gun, and raised her hands. Quinn's slightly unfocused eyes jerked towards it, and Mercedes was reminded how feral the blonde could come across when she felt threatened. Now, the blonde wrapped her arms around herself and stared off at nothing out the window.

This went on for a full two minutes.

Finally, Mercedes reached for her milk. "I'm not trying to rush you, I'm just going to have some milk and pie here, 'kay?"

The blonde pulled her eyes back to her and nodded. She watched Mercedes nibble at the pie and sip her milk. Her stomach made an audible sound. Mercedes raised her eyebrow and handed her pie plate again. Quinn reached for it and her milk, happy to have something to do besides sit dumbly. This was silly. She wasn't going to tell the other girl everything, but since she'd opened her mouth about it, she was going to have explain at least some of it.

"Well."

Mercedes sipped her milk and looked at her over the top of her glass. "Well."

At last, the words started to flow and the Cheerio started to explain things, at least to a certain extent. "I mean, it's not a big deal. We just hung out the rest of the day. We watched some Caprica on SyFy."

Mercedes looked at her oddly. "Caprica?"

Quinn gave her disbelieving look. "What? So I like SyFy. This is a problem?"

I like SyFy and kissing girls, well a girl, and she focuses on Caprica?
Perhaps you should consider that a blessing Q, eh?

Mercedes shrugged. "No, no no problem here. Just checking?"

The blonde grunted and continued. "So yes. Caprica. She…Rachel likes it too. We watched TV. I fell asleep on the couch. She stayed and cleaned up while I slept. Which was…well, nice, right? And then it was almost dinnertime. Mom was having a social night out. You were…where were you? You left with Kurt. Anyway, B and S were having movie night or something." She stopped and giggled, remembering they'd sent that skinny kid Kenny Smithson from class to Santana's house on a suicide mission. Straightening her face, she continued rapid fire.

"Anyway, so…she invited me to her house for dinner. You know, with her dads. So…I went."

"And…?"

"And? It was fun. We just…hung out. We played poker. And watched The Princess Bride. And it got late."

"It got late…"

"Yes, it got late, so…"

"So?"

"So instead making one of them drive me home, I spent the night. That's all." She finished with her voice hard and her face impassive.

"Okay. First off, why didn't you drive? And two? You drop something like 'she enjoyed it as much as I did' on me, and that's all I get? Seriously? That you spent the night? I'm supposed to believe that is all? I mean, not that that isn't a little odd, but hardly fetal position worthy, know what I'm saying?"

Now Mercedes watched hazel eyes dart around the room, thinking to herself that Quinn used to be a much better liar. She sighed and spoke quietly and gently now.

"Q? I told you, I don't judge. I'm not gonna say anything. Not even to Kurt. Although, I have to warn you, Kurt thought something odd was going on yesterday afternoon. Was there?"

Quinn's eyes snapped up to her and her voice squeaked just a little. "No. Nothing." She took a deep breath and cleared her throat. "Not yet," she added as pulled her knees up even closer to her chest and locked her arms around them tightly, rocking slightly.

The diva raised her hand indicating Quinn and her state in general. "Then what is all this…about?"

"We kissed."

The words hissed out so quietly that Mercedes barely heard them. When she realized what she'd said, she took a huge breath. Even though she'd figured as much that something like that had happened, she still wasn't as prepared for it as she thought she was.

"You. And Rachel. You kissed."

"Yes."

"And you liked it." It was a statement and a question at the same time.

Quinn didn't say anything to the contrary, so Mercedes took the lack of denial as a yes. She frowned a bit. "Okay. Processing here. So…uh, how did that happen, and more importantly, how was it? Although somehow? I think I know the answer to that already."

The blonde grimaced. "I don't know how it happened. I mean I do, sort of? I don't know. Look. It was…by mutual consent. Although, I guess technically I kissed her."

It was Mercedes' turn to grimace now. "Okay, okay. That's enough info for me here. I…yeah, still processing! And by the looks of it, you are too, huh?"

"Really? How could you tell?"

"Well, you wigging out and the fact that you're practically in a fetal position? Yeah, that was my first clue."

The rocking stopped and Quinn rested her chin on her knees, and allowed her mouth to twitch into a rueful smile. "Please. This is not wigging out. I think I'm doing relatively well here, considering I'm going to hell, thank you very much."

Mercedes snorted. "I sure don't think you're going to hell, at least not for anything you've done so far, girl. So. What the heck are you gonna do now? I mean, just because you kissed...Rachel." She still couldn't wrap her head around it and stumbled over the name. "Well, that doesn't mean you're…you know." She trailed off, almost in a mumble.

There was a long silence, and the unspoken word hung there. And Mercedes felt like an ass. It was almost as if it was a betrayal of her best friend, Kurt, for her to be so circumspect. She gave herself a mental slap for it. Not only was it small of her, but it probably didn't help Quinn. She swallowed before she spoke again.

"So, can I ask? What does Rachel think or feel about…uh, this new twist on ya'll's crazy ass triangle. Or…quadrangle, or whatever it is."

Quinn shrugged. "I don't know. We haven't really…talked about it. At least not that much."

"Ooookay. Well it must have been an awkward morning huh? Well, I'd think you might want to put that pretty high on your list of shit that needs to happen. Like soon. And what about Sam?"

"Sam."

"Yes, Sam? Nice guy, blonde, looks eerily like you. Oddly feminine looking lips. Ringing any bells?"

"Everyone keeps saying those things. Do you really think so?"

Mercedes nodded. "It's a little weird Q. But, I have to say the 'lady lips' make a bit more sense now."

Quinn made a sour face and Mercedes laughed at her. "Too soon?"

"Wee bit. And well, regardless of…anything else. I think I just need to be friends with Sam. I started this year wanting to be on my own anyway. I mean, I wouldn't have said there was any real…I don't know, heat between us? I mean, at least as far as I'm concerned."

The other girl nodded sagely as she added her two cents worth. "And…maybe that was what made him so appealing? Nice to look at and be around, but…no danger of Babygate 2? Just boosting your collective popularity…no harm, no foul?"

The blonde looked thoughtful, and slightly ashamed as she nodded. "I think you may have nit the nail on the head there. I don't think I totally conscious of that though, I mean it wasn't like I thought that through. Forethought has not been my forte as of late, has it? I guess…he sorta pursued me, and it was nice. You know?"

Mercedes shook her head and made a 'tsking' sound, and her laugh was only slightly bitter. "I wish I did, Q, I wish I did. Puck is as close as I've come to around here." She giggled and drank some milk. "Speaking of Puckasaurus. He would probably die happy thinking of you and Rachel…er. You know."

Quinn's eyes narrowed and hardened, fear and anger coiling in her stomach. She sat up straight. "Hey, you said no one would know. I thought I could trust you."

"Hey now, chillax. I'm just kidding around. Just lightening things up here. I'm not going to tell Puck. Or anybody else as long as you don't want me too, 'kay?"

The stressed blonde allowed herself to relax back into her near fetal position. "Okay, I'm sorry. This is just…scary."

"I'm sure it is. You gotta promise to keep me in the loop here though, okay?"

"About?"

"What happens now."

Quinn smacked the bed with both hands. "What happens now? I have no clue what happens now. I mean, yeah, I'm going to have to end things with Sam. Or at least be honest…ish with him."

Mercedes whistled long and low. "Wow. I see. So it was that good a kiss then?"

The blonde covered her face, and blushed furiously.

"I'll take that as a yes. What about our Miss Berry?"

"I don't know. She and Finn, you know? I don't know. This time last year, we hated each other. I don't expect her to break up with Mr. Wonderass just because we…er, kissed. That's her business."

"Uh huh. Okay…so what would you want her to do if you had a choice."

"Don't ask me that. You can't ask me that. I don't know. And the answer keeps changing anyway."

Mercedes passed the last bit of pie towards the other girl, who reached out and picked at it. "Fair enough. But in my humble, inexperienced side-line opinion? I think you guys need to have a talk. Like soon. And you and Sam? When are you going to talk to Golden Boy?"

The blonde looked guilty and sad and a bit furtive. "I was going to watch a movie with him tonight. But I rescheduled to Tuesday. And it's not just me here. I can't go spilling my guts, even if I weren't scared shitless. Even if I knew exactly what it all meant. It's not just me here involved, and I can't just open my mouth to ease my own conscience."

Mercedes considered this. "Okay, you may be right, but still, didn't you learn your lesson about putting things off? Keeping secrets?"

"I know. I know." She sounded tired and exasperated now. "Can't I just take a bit of time, to say…I don't know, examine things? And I'm so tired. I mean, you saw me about wet my pants laughing, didn't you? I'm not exactly at the top of my game."

Dark eyes twinkled mischievously. "Well staying up all night kissing…and whatnot will make a body tired. Or at least that is what I hear."

Quinn sat up again. "Whatnot? What do you mean by ' whatnot'? There was no mention of any…whatnot. And I didn't say all night."

The blonde was frowning petulantly and Mercedes laughed at her, shaking her head. "I know, I know. I'm just teasing you. But with your reaction there, I'm gonna quit, because I sure as hella don't wanna know about any 'whatnot.' I'm having enough trouble processing you and Berry, kissing in a tree…K.I.S.S.I—"

"Oh my GOD shut it Mercedes! What are you? Like ten years old here?"

Mercedes howled at her and laughed even more despite the taunt and sang quietly. "You like her, you think she's preeetty, you want to kiissss her…"

"Tell me again why I thought I could trust you?" She curled into an angry looking ball again, and waited for the chuckling to subside. Which it finally did. Mercedes wiped tears of laughter from her eyes.

"Aw sweetie, I'm sorry. I'm just trying to get you to relax. Besides, since I can't talk to Kurt about this, I have to get my ya-yas out somehow, right?"

Quinn growled and picked up her pillow and made as if to throw it. "Hey now, mom's china!" The blonde growled again but dropped the pillow and crossed her arms again.

"Fine. Ya-yas all out?"

Mercedes shook tilted her head and looked at her at an angle. "Hardly. But for the moment, yes. Feel better?"

"I can't tell yet. Maybe. The pie was helpful."

Mercedes put her hand on her hip and looked at her with an attitude. "What am I? Chopped liver?"

The blonde rolled her eyes. "And so was the company. Thanks for listening. And more importantly. Not telling…?"

Mercedes nodded firmly. "Not telling. And hey, no problem. I got your back." She fell quiet and watched the Cheerio. "So…you really…kinda like her?"

Quinn ran nervous hands through her hair as she undid and readjusted her ponytail. She finally spoke, her voice almost a whisper. "God. I don't know. And God knows I'd rather not. But…maybe." Her eyes were shiny as she admitted it quietly. "I don't want to. Not because it's her. It's because I don't want to be…"

"Yeah, I know. I get it." Mercedes smiled softly. "Hey, soul sister, a suggestion? So maybe, like later? Maybe you wanna bend Kurt's ear about this too. Don't get me wrong, I'm here to listen. But…"

"You're not gay," she whispered and sniffed. "I know."

"Well, not as far as I know yet, right? And maybe you're not either. All kinds of in betweens out there, right? Maybe it's a Rachel Berry only thing?" Mercedes dipped her head and caught her eye and winked. "And I may not be gay, but well, I'd be blind and deaf if I didn't admit our Miss Berry has a fantastic voice, and legs to die for. I'm sure she has many other redeeming qualities. Somewhere. Deep down. But don't tell her I said that, 'kay?"

Quinn laughed a little. "I'll take it to the grave. You know, she's actually a very nice person, when she's not—"

"Talking a mile a minute. About herself. Or Broadway." Mercedes finished for her.

"Exactly. She's smart too. What a change for me, eh?"

"True dat. Well, you know Puck is smart in his own way. It's just street smarts. Or something. But yeah, smart is good. And yeah. It's the smarty pants part of her that usually gives me trouble. Hey, maybe she'll have a PowerPoint presentation for when you guys have your talk. Speaking of which, when are you going to schedule that?"

"Says another smarty pants. Sheesh. Anyway, good question." She took a noisy breath and blew it out. "Enough of this. You're right though. Hand me that. Please?" She pointed to her phone.

Mercedes leaned over and tossed her the phone. "Wow, look at you being proactive and shit."

"Yeah, yeah. And hey, I did learn a lesson or two last year. You can text Kurt. Just…"

"I won't tell him anything he doesn't already know. Cool?"

Quinn's face went a little grim again. "I hope that isn't much. At least not yet. Please, please. This does NOT need to get out, at least not the way things stand, okay?"

"I'm hearing you, don't worry. I'll try to corral Kurt too, if it's an issue."

She looked at her friend, who had helped her through so much the year before. She nodded and smiled as sincerely as she could. "Thank you."

"Told you. I got your back."

########

Kurt stood in the kitchen with his cuffs rolled neatly up, as he finished straightening the kitchen. He glanced over at her. "Well that was muy rapido. Que pasa?"

Rachel looked at Kurt and shook her head. "Please. We haven't even started."

Oh, he made his mouth into an 'o' and cocked his head. "Okay then. I see. Everything okay down there?"

"I came up here to cool off a bit. I'm a little tired, as you noticed. Would it be alright if I made some more tea?"

"Help yourself my dear." He opened the cabinets and waved his hand indicating several types to choose from. "Perhaps some Tension Tamer? Or some kava tea, good for stress?"

Rachel gave him a hard look, but snorted in amusement. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt would it?"

He smiled at her. "Now, if I could just get Finn to actually drink some too, then we'd be all set, right?"

"From your mouth to…Finn's ears?"

"But of course. And I must say it's so nice to hear you finally recognize my deity-like qualities." He smirked at her as she turned the kettle on again. "Speaking of ears. Despite being forced to listen to Mike sing a solo last week, I do still have two good ones. If you care to bend them."

The brunette furrowed her brow as she tried to reach for the Tension Tamer box of tea on the second shelf, swiping at it ineffectively. Finn was good for reaching things she'd give him that. Kurt noticed and laughed at her. "Here, let me."

"Why thank you, Kurt. You're always such a gentleman."

"I am, aren't I?" He smiled graciously and with humor at her. "So, Finn is down there conjugating…something then? I think I see Mr. Schue enough as it is. I am so very glad I am taking the Language of Love."

She scrunched up her face. "I thought that was Italian."

He waved his hand dismissively. "Please. You say patata, I say pomme de terre. Which one sounds more appealing, I ask you?"

She bobbed her head and nodded as she weighed, finally ceding him the point. "Fair enough."

She looked around the small but pleasant kitchen for a moment, trying to decide if it would be prudent to say anything to Kurt. Perhaps she could be circumspect enough to satisfy his curiosity without actually giving too much away. She crossed her ankles and studied the pattern on the kitchen floor. "So…I've been thinking."

It took every ounce of his will power for Kurt to not turn instantly and jump all over the opening, but he didn't. He simply echoed her phrase, "So you've been thinking."

"Yes…and I was just downstairs thinking…that Finn is really not living up to my vision of Glee Co-Captain just at the moment. If someone who spends more time than a supportive captain should talking badly about other members of the club, then what the hell? Let's elect Santana for crying out loud."

Kurt almost guffawed at that, as he considered it. "Well, we wouldn't be hurting for members. I'm pretty sure she would just shanghai or conscript anybody she wanted to, regardless of talent, or lack thereof. We'd have a bevy of THE most attractive, sadly off-key males and females at our fair institution of learning."

Rachel giggled at the thought and had to agree.

Kurt stopped giggling and considered the scenario. "Well, it wouldn't hurt to have some more male eye-candy to look at, am I right?"

"Ew. I didn't know you could channel a gay Noah, Kurt."

"Ew. Point taken."

They fell silent as their giggles subsided, and Kurt looked at her with more seriousness. "So…you're not currently particularly happy with your counterpart. Is that what I'm hearing here?"

She shrugged and said nothing.

"Okay. So this is about your unhappiness with your 'Co-Captain.' I see. Then may I ask if this limited in scope to things relating to Glee?"

She cut her eyes sharply to him. Damn him.

He saw it and stopped. "I take it back, forget I asked. Just…argh."

"Just what?" Her eyes pinned him in place.

Kurt clapped his mouth shut. "Nothing."

"Kurt, just tell me. What?"

"Rachel, I'm not saying a thing against Finn. I'm really not. He's a goober. A big tall, sometimes vacuous, but generally very nice goober. With a disarming smile, I'll grant." She opened her mouth to speak but he cut in. Again.

"Pssshhht. Wait." He made a gesture with his hands to indicate she should close her mouth. She eyed him sulkily, but held her tongue. "I'll say this, and then? I am finis. I say good day."

Rachel opened her hand and waved it expansively. "I give. The floor, briefly, is yours."

Kurt dipped his head in acknowledgment. "Thank you." He took breath and weighed his words. "In a nutshell; two people can both be very good people and not be the right people at the right time. Together I mean."

She dropped her head to the side and looked at him. "And?"

"And don't EVEN think that this has anything to do with…what…perhaps at one point might have been the teensiest, tiniest, perhaps, of crushes on that boy. Believe me. So over that. And you know what? Maybe that is part of why I have a clear view of this. Rachel Barbra Berry? We are going places, you and I. We are smart, driven, talented people. And I know I don't have not a lot, scratch that, okay, ANY practical experience in this department…dating I mean. But…but, well…at least you know what a Vietnamese Lettuce Wrap is!"

Despite her ingrained mild distrust of the usually inveterate gossipmonger, she chuckled.

She looked at him and waited for him to expound on his odd statement. "Well aren't we the match made in heaven then?"

Kurt put his hand on his hip and straightened himself to his full almost five foot ten inches and smiled. "We would be FABulous."

"We would."

He tilted his head back and forth, as he looked off to their pretend future. "Alas. It would end in an amicable divorce. We'd both star in a serious but charming Orlando Bloom vehicle and the rest would be history. We'd stay friends. You'd try to convert him back to vegetarianism, to no avail. In the end, we'd split custody of the cats. I'd get Orlando. You'd get the house in the Hamptons and the studio in Manhattan. I'd get the one in Castro, oh, and the townhouse in Vancouver. You'd go on and be happy…with your next co-star. Voila!"

She laughed at the scope of his tale. "Orlando Bloom? And we'd have cats? Really?"

"Tybalt and Mercutio."

"Tybalt and…? But of course." She laughed shook her head at her friend and occasional rival. He did have an imagination and vision to rival hers, clearly.

"Wait. The Hamptons. Yeah, I don't think so. I've got the apartment in Manhattan. I'll take the Castro or Vancouver."

"Oh whatever. We'd work it out. Finis." He turned to face her, crossing his arms. "My point is eyes on the prize, sistah. Don't sweat the here and now too much. And for the love of…Barbra, or whomever you happen light a candle to, don't let our resident Boy Wonder…hold you back. Or down. Or whatever. If he is what you want, have at it." He dropped her brow and looked at her seriously, as he dropped the teabag into the teapot. "Just remember; want and need are two different things. You don't 'need' anybody."

She studied him again, smiling slyly "You and I, Kurt? We would be quite the power couple, wouldn't we?"

"Devastating. We would rule." She almost believed him. She half-smiled. "Too bad I'm not entirely sold on the cats."

He quirked his brow and grinned cheekily. "Too bad indeed. Something to consider though? And because I almost actually like you now, and I can see you're clearly not quite up to snuff, I shall refrain from commenting on the obvious double-entendre there."

Rachel twitched her shoulders back and her eyes narrowed in confusion. Then they widened as she sputtered in surprise. But she said nothing. Her ears felt hot again.

"You can be alarmingly perceptive Hummel, has anyone ever told you that?"

"Well, some of us don't have the proverbial Sixth Sense, so we just have to watch closely."

Kurt sniffed and pretended he noticed nothing, as he handed her the tea. "Okay, class dismissed. Tea for one?"

She took the tea with a nod of her head, still a bit red. "Si, Senor Hummel. Muchas gracias, mi amigo."

"C'était mon plaisir, ma soeur."

She was surprisingly reluctant to leave the kitchen, but she turned to go.

She descended the stairs, mildly surprised to see Finn sitting at his desk, actually studying. His knee bouncing a staccato rhythm in time with the pencil he was drumming on the desk. He looked up and smiled, only a little.

"Hey, feeling better?"

She pressed her teeth hard against the inside of her cheek. She looked at his generally sweet face, realizing she was no longer mad just sad. So she lied. "Yes."

"Really?"

"Well, tea is a wondrous thing. You should try some." She tried to beam at him. If he thought it was a fake one, he didn't indicate so.

He took a deep breath and slapped both hands on his knees. "So. Uh, will it help me ace this test? Because I'll drink it if it will."

She exhaled slowly and lied again, cheery smile still on her face. "Well, it just might."

The goofy smile he gave her made her chest constrict now as he replied with enthusiasm. "Okay then. There's hope for me after all!"

Her stomach flipped and she sipped compulsively and gratefully at her tea. "Well they say that genius is one percent inspiration, ninety-nine percent perspiration."

The lanky boy chuckled self-deprecatingly. "Good thing I shower so often, right Rach?"

She slumped unceremoniously onto the small, uncomfortable couch next to him and tried to resist the urge cry. She had everything she thought she wanted. It was as if the curtain had been pulled back on the Great, Dear, Sweet and Powerful Finn. And it turned out he was just a very tall boy; a very tall, sweet, and as Kurt had pointed out, vacuous boy.

"Okay, let's go over those irregular verbs, shall we?"

"Okay. Thanks Rach. You're the best."

Her throat was tight. She felt for her phone.

"I'll be back in a jiffy Finn. All that tea, silly me! Keep studying."

She scurried up the stairs and past Finn who gave her a look. Then she passed Kurt as he checked on his dad. She raised her hand, indicating she did not want to hear anything from him. She ducked into the bathroom and shut the door, she checked her messages again.

Quinn: Hey. Having a talk with Mercedes. Can I call later? Much later.

Rachel wanted to smile and throw up at the same time. She was talking with Mercedes and Mercedes was the closest thing she could see Quinn had to a confidante. When it came to Cheerios, and plotting, it was probably Santana. She ran cold water on her hands and splashed her face. Then she answered the text.

Rachel: Certainly. Studying til 4. How are you? Are you okay?
Quinn: So far. How about you?

She thumbed out another quick text, in the interest of solidarity and support.

Rachel: Okay. Over here, Kurt is…needling me.

She smiled a little, despite the awkwardness of her entire day, and sent another follow up text.

Rachel: This is weird. Very weird. But I like it?

Her phone doinked almost immediately.

Quinn: You like Kurt needling you? That is a very strange statement.
Rachel: Texting you I meant. It's weird.
Quinn: Good to know. Good weird?
Rachel: Hm. I believe so.

Thirty seconds passed, and she flushed the toilet as a decoy.

Quinn: You're just saying that because you think I'm hot.

She was definitely glad she'd chosen to take this break. It didn't lessen the burden of guilt she was trying to deal with, but it was nice not to feel alone with it. She allowed herself a grin finally as she replied.

Rachel: Decidedly.

#### ######

Mercedes watched her as she smirked and grinned and texted. "Quinn Fabray. You're blushing over there. And you're ignoring me. Great. Just great. I'm starting to see this entire past year and a half as one big juvenile pull Rachel's pigtails in class because you like her scenario, just sayin'. And yeah, okay, this just answers my question about whether you like her or not. I'll just sit here and talk to myself. La la la. Hey, so what're you going to do at school tomorrow? How is this all going to go down?"

Quinn was only half listening of course, but that managed to make it through and put a damper on Quinn's mood again. What was school going to be like tomorrow?

Yeah, Q, what ARE you going to do at school tomorrow.
No fucking clue.
Great. Well as long as you have a plan and all.
Not helping.

She finally turned away from her phone after the last text and shrugged. "Huh, hang on, what was that about going down? Who said that—"

She squeezed her eyes shut briefly.

Don't say it. Don't say it.
That one spoke for itself think Q. Welcome to my little corner of the gutter.

The blonde covered her mouth and faked a yawn. When she cracked her eyes to check, Mercedes was just shaking her head at her. "Uh. Wow, you really are tired, aren't you? What's going to go down at school."

Quinn's mouth turned round as she spoke. "Oh. Yeah. That. Uh, believe me when I say I have no earthly idea what will happened tomorrow. But, I mean, nothing has to er, go down. At school. I'm going to get up, go to Cheerios, take a test, and then go to Glee. Everything else? Dunno yet."

Another shake of the head and the diva drawled. "Well, as long as you have a plan and all."

The fact that Mercedes echoed her snarky inner critic was not comforting. Not at all.

She turned back to her cell one more time.

Quinn: Maybe you could swing by my house after studying. We could maybe talk?
Quinn: If you're not too tired that is.

Oooh… nice job reminding her how and why she is so tired again. I'm almost impressed Grasshopper.
I'm not dignifying that with an answer. Which is probably progress. Less crazy is good.

A/N Please read and review and let me know if you liked. It was more fun to write as I wasn't multi-tasking so much, just enjoying the day! I think this one works better than last chapter. I hope! Hope this one flows a bit better at least. It's amazing how not trying to work at the same time as writing will help in that regard?

Let's see, this chapter brought you by…some IPA from the local microbrew that we brought home in a growler. And… some…Alana Davis, Modest Mouse, Matt Nathanson, Michael Franti & Spearhead, a little Gaga, some Gomez, and oddly enough Bare Naked Ladies. Not sure where the last one came from. I think that was the weather and not the fic.

A/N2 Also. I am bound and determined to one day finally name a pet Tybalt, dammit. Cat or dog, I don't care at this point. Next male pet? Tybalt.