Thank you everyone who reviewed the last chapter.

Chapter Eight:

Your Arms Around Me Should Make

Everything Feel Alright.

The locker room was alive with conversation as Rachel and Quinn walked in, one behind the other. It slowed to a curious murmur as they separated to go to their respective benches and then died out altogether when Rachel stripped off her polo shirt.

"I don't think so, Midget," Santana said, with automatic distaste. "You can stay out here until I'm done."

"Santana, you know that is completely unnecessary now."

"Do I?"

"Well, in light of Quinn's confession on Friday night…"

"Seriously? I have no idea how you orchestrated that piece of propaganda theatre, but I didn't buy it. There's no way Quinn could ever need anything from an oompa-loompa that badly."

Rachel didn't like the shrewd look in her eyes very much and she scrunched her gym shirt defensively over her chest with nervous hands.

Brittany – who was changing in between her two best friends just a bench away – nodded, "Yeah, you're like her least favorite little person, because she doesn't even like candy, do you Quinn?" Quinn was standing motionless, staring vacantly into her Cheerios issue locker like she'd forgotten why she came. Rachel saw the muscles in her neck and shoulders twitch at the sound of her name, but she was doing a pretty good job of pretending she hadn't heard any of it. Brittany continued regardless, "So, that can only mean one thing, right?"

"Like maybe that kiss was more about what she wanted than what she needed?" a voice goaded from somewhere deeper in the room, getting a few laughs from the girls who were still fired up from the volleyball match and the brutal show of Cheerio dominance that had cut it short.

"That's not what I was going to say," Brittany was shaking her head, ready to correct them, but the conversation had already moved beyond her and this one had more potential.

"What I wanted?" Rachel asked the anonymous heckler.

The following silence made the answer as obvious as if it had been shouted by every girl at once, but Rachel was still slow to understand the implications and wondered why she suddenly heard Santana mutter, "Shit!" before throwing a scared glance at Quinn.

Who understood everything just fine and slowly turned away from her locker, "No, what I wanted. Who said that?"

There was no answer and nearly every girl in the room was suddenly very interested in the tiled floor, the wall or – if they were lucky enough to have already opened it – the inside of their locker.

"I asked, who said that?" Quinn's voice was still cold and collected and showed no trace of the nerves that were currently bobbing in Rachel's throat.

There was nothing for a moment and then only a quiet, "She only said what we're all thinking."

Rachel's eyes darted around for the source of the voice, but she couldn't narrow it down beyond someone in that corner over there and, judging from her frustrated expression, Quinn seemed to be having the same problem.

"Is that true?"

Nobody said yes, but the more pertinent fact was that nobody said no!

Kassie stepped out of the mass of half-undressed girls that had been shielding her until that moment with her arms crossed and a twisted smile, "Maybe some of us are just beginning to think that we kept the wrong girl out of the showers last Friday."

That's what all of this was about? Rachel suddenly understood all too clearly the uneasy undercurrent she'd been picking up and watched aghast as Quinn's cheeks – previously very pale – flushed red, Rachel didn't know if it was because of embarrassment or anger, but she did know it was the first crack to appear in her calm façade.

Rachel was startled out of her horrified gaping when Kassie continued her quest for payback by addressing her directly, "You're unusually quiet on the subject, Manhands. But I suppose that's hardly surprising, considering you're the one Fabray wants to ogle naked."

Oh Barbra, this was slicing far too close to the bone and she was still too busy coming to terms with the way the conversation had turned to pull off a convincing tale that would save them both. If only she hadn't argued with Santana! If only she hadn't brought Quinn's name into it. If only she'd thought to prepare for a scenario such as this! No room full of teenage girls had ever been so quiet and Rachel was the center of attention. It was usually a place she thrived in, but not today.

"I, um…"

"I don't need you to validate my sexuality, Berry!" Oh, the irony! "I am not gay, but if it makes some of you uncomfortable to shower with me, fine. I won't force you to answer that nagging little voice inside of you asking you why you even care."

"What does that mean?" Some girl at the back of the room asked.

Having had a few valuable seconds to gather her thoughts, Rachel was confident in handling this question, "As most of you well know, I have two gay fathers, so I believe I can answer your question satisfactorily. Quinn is referring to the phenomenon known as Internalized Homophobia where-by some homosexuals display homophobic behavior due to a lifetime of learning to hate a part of themselves and –"

"Actually," the same girl interrupted, "I meant where does that leave us on the shower situation."

"Oh, in that case I don't have an answer for you," Rachel said over a background of sniggering.

"It means I'll find somewhere else to shower," Quinn took her bag and a fresh uniform out of her locker, slammed it shut, turned on her heel and walked out of the room with her head held high.

Pin-dropping silence followed her departure, but it only lasted for ten seconds or so before it was filled with the chatter of the rumor mill starting up. Quinn Fabray was at the center of each buzzing conversation, as every girl wondered what her walking out like that actually meant.

Was it an admission of guilt? Was the most popular girl in school really a lesbian? Did that mean it was cool to be a lesbian now or did it mean that Quinn Fabray was no longer cool?

Other girls took a more practical stance and whispers rushed along the benches as they speculated on just how Quinn Fabray was going to retaliate. What would be the punishment for their crime against her? Because surely, there was no way the meanest girl in school was going to allow herself to be snubbed in such a way without exacting suitably horrific revenge.

But the loudest voices were the ones laughing over the humiliation the captain of the Cheerios had endured. They joked confidently about how having such a shameful rumor following her around – and, if Rachel understood correctly, Kassie especially would make sure that it did – would inevitably lead her to fall from Sue Sylvester's grace and, as a direct result, the top of the pyramid.

Rachel was sickened by the fact that those with the brashest opinions – the ones happily encouraging Quinn's disgrace – were her fellow Cheerios. Her teammates, for goodness sake, were the ones taking the greatest pleasure in Quinn's indignity! Personally, she felt Quinn was the only one of them who had actually retained any of her dignity. She'd certainly conducted herself with the most maturity.

She waited for Santana to speak up and defend her captain as she had done before, waited for all of the Cheerios to be told to get down on the floor! for their disrespect. But for once Santana held her tongue, her face tight with as unrecognizable emotion as she continued stripping off her gym clothes.

In fact, the only ones among them not taking part in the Quinn-bashing were the Glee girls. Who were all going about their business silently. Mercedes and Tina gave each other uncomfortable looks as they listened to the noise about them and Brittany sat staring into space as if she was trying to work out what had just happened until Santana nudged her to keep changing.

Rachel just stood there, her expression probably much like Brittany's, until she couldn't take it anymore. Pulling her polo shirt back over her head, she retrieved her book bag from her locker. It was over her shoulder and she was turning for the door, when she found her way blocked by a towel-clad Santana.

"Let me pass, please, I need to –"

"You need to take off your clothes and get in the shower," Santana said her voice low and rough, barely above a whisper, "Unless you want to make this even worse for her."

Rachel wanted to argue but she could see the sense in the advice. If she ran off now, everyone in the room would know she was going to find Quinn. Which would only strengthen the theory that there was something going on between them.

It was imagining how Quinn would react to that rather than Santana's insistence that made her nod her head and comply.

Quinn waited until she was at the end of the corridor and heading for the rear door of the school before she allowed her body to start shaking. And when she did, the shaking was so bad and her legs felt so wobbly, she thought at any second she was going to fall down and start sobbing on the floor.

She had a lot of past experience with being publicly humiliated, but it had all been firmly in the past until ten minutes ago. Andafter three years of being the center of attention for good reasons instead of bad, it was somehow even harder to take.

Of course it was! Before, she'd only been subjected to such degradation by those better than her; she'd deserved it then, at least she'd thought so for a long time. Now she was the one who was better, the best even. She had the status, the power, the respect of everyone else in her social sphere, and it hadn't even mattered!

Was this it? Was this how and when her high ended? Had she really thrown it all away so easily? For Rachel Berry, of all people?

Somehow, she made it into her car before the sobs came. She gripped the steering wheel tightly with both hands, hunched over as tears ran off her face causing small, darker red watermarks on her gym shorts.

It took five minutes and her forehead coming to rest on top of the steering wheel, for her to get it under control, because fucking ow she'd forgotten about her bump there! She rubbed at the swelling gingerly as she swiped her other wrist over her eyes – front for one, back for the other – and then sat back in the seat.

She had done the right thing by walking out. Some people would see it as giving ground, Santana would probably be one of those people, she thought with a bitter chuckle. But to stay and wait meekly on the bench as Rachel had done Friday would have been even worse. Her exit had allowed her to keep control of the situation. It might come to nothing, but it was better than the alternative.

If anyone six weeks ago had dared to suggest she might be a homosexual, she would have laughed in their face and the perpetrator would have been dodging slushie attacks for a month! She would have sneered at everyone in the room and then taken an extra long shower to remind them exactly who was on top around here.

But six weeks ago she hadn't been so worried about being naked in front of the other girls. Six weeks ago, she hadn't known she was pregnant and therefore hadn't been scared about showing her bloated stomach – even on the days she didn't feel bloated, which were pretty far between.

And six weeks ago, she'd never once believed she'd ever give into that tiny tempting voice daring her to check out the girls she was showering with. But now she always felt hyperaware of the female bodies all around her, especially if Rachel was among them.

Really, she should see this as a blessing; it was the perfect reason not to shower with anyone else ever again.

With another bitter laugh, she shook her head. No, there were no blessings here. Not when everyone thinking she was gay was the counter-argument. Pregnant was actually the lesser of two evils there, but only by a small margin.

She wanted to just go home and forget today had ever happened. And she wanted to speak to her dad about changing schools, preferably going to a new school far away. Boarding school had never held such appeal before. It was still early enough in the school year that her grades wouldn't suffer. She was smart, anyway, she could adjust to a change of syllabus easily. And at her new school she could be popular again – she knew how to do it now – but she wouldn't try out for cheerleading again to avoid being the focus of too much attention. At least not this year. Maybe after the baby was born.

It would be easier starting at a new school as the token pregnant teen than staying at McKinley, where everyone knew her as The Christ Crusader and the President of the Celibacy Club. And it would get her away from Puck and his mood swings between Considerate Wannabe Dad and Leering, Disgusting Pig Who Knows About Rachel. And it would give her a real reason to break up with Finn…

Did she really want to do that?

She wouldn't do it right away, but after a few weeks she could tell him the distance thing wasn't working for her and that he should find someone else he could actually spend time with –

He'd find Rachel, and who was she even kidding, he'd probably get to her before Quinn's seat in American Lit. was cold. And with Quinn gone, Rachel would probably find him just as quickly.

She brushed a few more loose tears from her cheeks.

So, she wasn't changing schools then. That sucked.

It was probably due to the volleyball concussion but even after everything… she wasn't giving up Rachel. Why should she when she'd already worked so hard to get her in the first place? Why would she when knowing she was seeing Rachel after Glee was the only thing making this awful day bearable?

Slowly, she felt her resolve strengthening again. It wasn't going to be easy but she was still Queen Bitch around here until someone actually took it away from her. And if any contenders thought she was going down without a fight to the freaking death, they were in for a shock. She could fight harder and longer and dirtier than any of them, and she would do it all with a smile on her face. And she'd keep Rachel as her secret… something at the same time. She was Quinn Fabray, and she could do anything.

It wasn't enough.

She tugged on her rear-view mirror until she was looking herself directly in her bloodshot eyes.

"I'm Quinn-fucking-Fabray and I can do anything!"

There it was.

Pulling a tissue from her glove compartment, she wiped her cheeks completely dry, thanking Jesus at the same time that her water-proof mascara actually worked, and then poked her car key into the ignition.

She had an errand to run and by the time she was back, the showers would be empty. It would mean being a little late to Glee but it wasn't like Coach Sylvester had demanded her presence and – with any luck – she'd still be there to look innocent when the fireworks went off.

Rachel was going to be mad about the fireworks, maybe almost as mad as Quinn was about her entire day.

She smiled as she pulled out of the parking lot, confident that they'd get through it one way or another, and then put her foot down as she headed for the closest gas station.

Quinn wasn't in Glee.

Why wasn't Quinn in Glee?

What if she was devastated and humiliated and never wanted to set foot in school again? Rachel was having horrible thoughts about Quinn transferring without a word and never seeing her again.

Rachel didn't even know where she lived!

She tried to concentrate, tried to focus on the joint speech Mr. Schuester and Coach Sylvester were giving about how happy they were to be working together, but she just couldn't. Although, she was still aware enough to register how fake the speech felt, and to hope that everyone else could see through it, too. But where was Quinn?

So, she breathed a giant sigh of relief when Quinn finally came through the door, politely apologizing to the two educators for her tardiness before taking a seat on the other side of the risers on the second row. Rachel allowed herself a quick glance in her direction before finally being able to focus her full attention on the matter at hand.

And it was just as well that she did!

Not that she could really do anything to stop Coach Sylvester from leading half of the Glee club out of the room like a tracksuit-clad Pied Piper.

Now what were they supposed to do?

Quinn was pissed to discover that it was raining when she left Glee. It had been overcast but dry when she'd driven to the gas station, and why couldn't the rain have just held off for a few more hours? Now Cheerios practice was going to be wet and miserable and, more importantly, so was her time with Rachel.

Well, it would be wet, but it would take a lot more than a light drizzle to make it miserable.

She hadn't brought an umbrella with her so she leaned back as much as possible against the side of the unused workshop, using it as a makeshift shelter. It would have worked better if the wind had been blowing in the opposite direction but whatever.

Rachel appeared two minutes after her – with an umbrella! – and seemed surprised to see that Quinn had arrived first. What, so she was a little eager okay? She'd been craving this since Saturday night so was it any wonder?

Rachel opened with, "Are you okay? After what happened earlier?"

"Yes, no, I don't know. I don't want to talk about it. Come here."

Rachel obliged and Quinn stepped away from the wall so that the umbrella wouldn't be squashed against it when she wrapped her arms around Rachel's waist and buried her face in her neck.

"Are you feeling nauseous?"

"No," she admitted, "I just had a crappy day and need to breathe you in for a second. Is that okay?"

The hand not holding the umbrella slid over Quinn's upper back before cupping her opposite shoulder, "Yes. I had a crappy day too," was murmured against her collarbone.

They held each other in silence for a few minutes, the sound of the rain drumming against the fabric above them oddly soothing, before Quinn chuckled and pulled back.

"Hi," she said, before giving Rachel a kiss hello, "Sorry, probably should have done that first."

Rachel just smiled, shaking her head slightly and their lips met softly a few more times before she dropped her head to Quinn's shoulder, "Did you know what Coach Sylvester was going to do?" she asked quietly.

Quinn sighed against her hair, "I knew she was going to split the group. I didn't know how until it happened."

"You could have told me," her voice was softly reproachful.

"What difference would it have made, honestly? There was nothing you could have done to stop it, anyway."

"You still should have told me. You know how important Glee club is to me, and how worried I've been about her involvement."

"If I had told you, you would have told everyone else. You would have made a PowerPoint presentation on counter-measures to use at lunch! And it would have gotten back to Coach that I'd told. I couldn't risk that, Rachel. She needs to think I'm on her side one hundred percent."

"Are you?"

"What do you think?"

"I don't know; that's why I'm asking."

Tugging on Rachel's arm, she pulled it from around her neck. Rachel stepped back as if chastised but Quinn slid her hand down and into hers, ducking her head to meet her eyes.

"I'm on your side, but when it comes down to a choice between Cheerios and Glee, I have to pick Cheerios."

"Why?"

"I just do. Glee is your thing, it's where you shine. I enjoy singing and I admit that the club can be kind of fun, but I'm a cheerleader. When I'm on top of that pyramid…"

"You shine, amazingly so," Rachel murmured, with such intense sincerity that Quinn blushed. "I understand that, and I would never begrudge you it, but how can we be together – and before you cut in, I know we're not actually together, but how can we be like this, how we are right now – if you put your allegiance to Coach Sylvester before the well-being of Glee club?"

Quinn squeezed her hand reassuringly because she didn't know how to answer. She knew she was going to say the wrong thing because other than feed Rachel BS, there were only wrong things to say.

"How about I put you first and you put me first, and we both put Cheerios and Glee second?"

"You're suggesting I sit back and let you help destroy everything I've worked so hard for? You want me to turn a blind eye to that, so that we can continue as we are?"

"Maybe I'm suggesting you have a little more faith in your hard work, actually all of our hard work, and not let this destroy us."

She waited for the fallout, but Rachel just stared at her like she was trying to figure something out.

"Can you do that? Or is Glee more important than me?"

She shouldn't have asked that, because it probably was.

Again though, Rachel just stared at her and it felt like full minutes were ticking by rather than seconds. She resisted the urge to check her watch because she couldn't ask a question like that and then complain that Rachel was going to make her late for Cheerios practice.

Thankfully, Rachel spoke before the urge became overwhelming, "You're equally important. I don't want to lose either of you."

"Then can we go with my compromise, for now at least? I don't think Coach will be a threat for long anyway; we have our own competition season starting and there's no way she's going to allow herself to be distracted from that. As soon as she gets bored, the club can reband as one group and everything will be okay."

"Do you really think so?"

She didn't know how Sue Sylvester's mind worked – paid professionals probably wouldn't even be able to figure that out – but Quinn was confident enough in the woman's obsessive desire to win another Nationals trophy that it was plausible.

"Sure."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes, I will make an effort to put us first and turn the aforementioned blind eye to whatever part you may play in Coach Sylvester's scheming."

Quinn beamed, happy they'd avoided the massive argument she'd been expecting. Who knew Rachel Berry could actually be reasonable on occasion? She wisely kept the question to herself and squeezed her hand again.

"But you're going to have to make it worth my while."

"Happy to."

Quinn pulled their joined hands to the side, lacing their fingers together as she did, and leaned in to kiss her. Sweetly at first but then with a slow passion as she let her lips slide open, pulling Rachel's with them. Rachel hummed into the kiss, pushing up on her toes to increase the pressure, stabilizing the position by gripping the open collar of Quinn's Cheerios jacket with her free hand.

Except her free hand wasn't free and the cold underside of the umbrella pulling down against the crown of her head made Quinn recoil in surprise.

"Sorry!"

"It's okay, no permanent brain damage, I think," she chuckled as she covered Rachel's hand on the handle to push it up more, "Although this is clearly why we never see garden gnomes holding umbrellas. Let me take it."

Rachel smiled but refused to relinquish her grip, "Actually, while that was very nice, when I mentioned making it up to me I was thinking about something more substantial than a kiss."

Quinn glared at her playfully, "Then I guess I won't be making it up to you for another nine weeks. Well eight and three-quarters, now."

"Not like that!" Rachel gently but deliberately bounced the umbrella off of her head again. "And you think I'm the one with my mind constantly in the gutter? Shame on you, Quinn Fabray."

She laughed, "Then how?"

"I was thinking something less physical, and more…" Rachel paused as she searched for the word she wanted while Quinn waited with an eyebrow raised. "… more romantic."

"Romantic?" she repeated, thinking of candlelit dinners and walks through the park at sunset – neither of which they could really do together. She didn't want candle wax dripping all over her car, plus she didn't know of any parks outside of Lima.

"A testimony of your affection," Rachel said, suddenly looking nervous.

"Huh? Oh!" Grinning, she let go of Rachel's hand to unzip her bag and pulled out what she'd bought at the gas station, "One step ahead of you."

She held it out on the palm of her hand, which it just about fit on, and waited for Rachel's reaction.

It wasn't quite what she'd been hoping for.

"You bought me Grumpy Bear?"

Quinn's grin fell as she muttered, "It was the only one they had."

Rachel regarded the blue Carebear on her outstretched palm with an interest bordering on scientific observation.

She was just about to stuff it back in her bag and lash out self-consciously about ungrateful midgets, when Rachel's hand snaked out with viper strike speed and grasped Grumpy Bear around his fuzzy middle, pulling him up to within an inch of her face – to study him even more closely perhaps? Who knew?

"If you don't like it…"

"When I was upset when I was little, my Dads used to sit me on the couch, give me a glass of water, and put on The Care Bears Movie. My dad believed the individual sense of self each bear possessed was an important morale boosting lesson and my daddy, I think, just liked the excuse to watch his favourite cartoon." She smiled a little, "I must have watched it a thousand times throughout elementary school."

Quinn actually shuffled her feet in the grass, which it was more like mud now, with a bit of green poking through, "I didn't mean to bring back bad memories. It's just that I said I was going to buy you a teddy bear and I wanted to keep the promise, but –"

"Bad memories? No, Quinn. It always made me feel better. And while I admit Wish Bear was always my favorite when I was younger… I definitely think I could fall in love with Grumpy Bear now."

As Rachel gave her a shy smile, Quinn's grin returned, only to falter a second later when a surge of anxious – terrified actually – excitement coursed through her, "Wait, am I Grumpy –"

Rachel's lips cut her off and she was actually okay with being interrupted for once. She would have been even more okay with it if the kiss had lasted longer.

"Thank you, Quinn."

"You're welcome."

"But…"

"You're seriously never satisfied, are you?" Quinn groaned, but gave her lips a peck afterwards to prove she was joking, "You want me to get you Wish Bear as well, don't you? I'll look online tonight but I don't have long left before practice so can we please…"

"No, not that. And my bear is a wonderful surprise but I actually had something specific in mind about how you can make things up to me."

Rachel was nervous again and Quinn's eyes narrowed suspiciously, "Okay, like what? And when did thing become things?"

Rachel straightened her shoulders, preparing for something big, and she pushed the umbrella into Quinn's hand so that she could rummage around in the front pocket of her bag.

"We have rather a checkered past, but lately our feelings towards each other have started to change…"

"I'm aware of this."

"I am eager to move forward and put our past behind us…"

"Me too."

"But I am finding it difficult. I believe this is partly because you refuse to define us sufficiently, and partly because your actions towards me now can sometimes be reminiscent of your previous behavior, unfortunately leaving me open to doubt."

Quinn stiffened, and for the first time since arriving behind the workshop she realized how chilly it was, "I defined us: We're dating. And I told you I couldn't change my behavior towards you in public. And personally, I think I'm doing a pretty good job of making up for it right now."

"You are," Rachel reassured her, smiling and hugging Grumpy Bear to her chest.

"Okay then."

"But it's not enough."

"Rachel!"

"I've had a really bad day, Quinn!"

"You've had a bad day? Have you forgotten what I went through in gym? My entire day has been like that! My whole weekend was like that!"

Rachel paused and Quinn waited for the sympathy to start pouring out, except it didn't.

"Yes, well, I think I have a solution. A plan to right all of our wrongs."

"And that is?" She was handed a piece of paper and knew what it was the moment she unfolded it. It did have PRO and CON written on it in big letters, after all. She scanned it briefly before looking up again, "The letter I gave you was much nicer than this."

"It was," Rachel smiled. "If you'll notice, it's in the PRO column."

It was. It didn't stop her from frowning, "What am I supposed to do with this?"

Rachel cleared her throat, "Nothing directly, if you don't want to. I just wanted you to have textual proof of the issues I'm dealing with over our… for lack of a better term, thing."

Quinn scanned it again, frown deepening.

"What I propose is that we take a step back from where we have found ourselves."

"You want us to stop doing what we're doing?"

"No, in fact the opposite, I want us to do it properly."

"I'm not following."

"I've examined my feelings extensively over the weekend and I believe my vulnerability is rooted in the fact that we went from you being horrible to me to us making out in your car with very little in-between."

"Very little! I stood up in front of half the school and –"

"I know, and I really appreciate that, but it's a separate issue from what I'm talking about. This isn't about what everyone else knows or doesn't know; it's about how we are together."

She didn't need this! She'd had the day from hell and Rachel was supposed to be making it better, not worse.

"Okay, we'll talk about it later."

"When later?"

"When we have more time."

"And when will that be?"

"I don't know, Rachel! Later! The weekend, maybe?"

"It's Monday, Quinn!"

"Yes, and?"

"This is my problem. You don't want to talk about us."

"You're right. I'm pretty sure we've already talked about how I don't want to talk about us, though."

"I do understand your reluctance and I'm prepared to work around it," Rachel said as if she hadn't spoken, "Actions speak louder than words, as they say, so I am prepared to forego words if your actions can at least give me some comfort."

Quinn replayed the sentence in her head a few times before saying, "I gave you a teddy bear."

"And it's a step in the right direction in your efforts to woo me."

She replayed that a few times too, face blank, before finally asking, "You want me to woo you? Aren't we passed that already?"

Rachel nodded, "Which is where the step back comes in. I think to make up for your past demeanors, you can woo me properly. It will give me closure and allow you the time to properly come to terms with your feelings for me." She beamed, "As you see, it's win-win."

"But I have woo'd you! I gave you flowers on Friday, and Grumpy Bear today, and I bought you dinner Saturday night! How much more wooing do you actually need, considering you already like me?"

"I propose two weeks and if we are both happy at the end of the fourteen days, then I will be honored to embark on a clandestine affair with you, Quinn."

Was this really happening? Hadn't she already done enough? And now Rachel was asking for more?

"And if you're not satisfied?"

"Oh. We'll, uh," Rachel hesitated, clearly not expecting that response, "We'll extend the courtship to twenty-eight days, allowing a further fourteen to…"

"So, I'm going to be juggling school, my home life, being pregnant, Cheerios, my boyfriend, and jumping through hoops for you for the foreseeable future, am I?" Quinn took a step back, breaking all contact between them, "I thought you were supposed to be the one good thing in my life right now?"

"And I want to be! But don't you want to be the one good thing in mine, too?"

"I thought I was!"

When Rachel didn't answer, she turned her attention to the dripping leaves of the trees beyond the chain-link fence and tried not to start crying again.

"It's just not as easy as that," Rachel finally said quietly.

"Of course it isn't. Because you're Rachel-freaking-Berry and you have to do everything the hard way, including us. Why can't you just let it be?"

"It's hardly like I'm asking you to perform circus tricks, Quinn. I simply need a reason to believe that despite the challenges that lay in our path, that you are as committed to us as I am. And, as you refuse to define us verbally as anything more than casually dating, I thought you could at least show it through your actions. Because I'm sure you'll agree, Quinn, that knowing I am no more than a casual-date-slash-secret-make-out-partner isn't much of an incentive!"

Quinn hadn't stepped back that far in the first place because she'd had to keep them both covered by the umbrella, but now she stepped closer, close enough to brush Rachel's cheek with the back of her fingers, "You know you're more than that. Do you really think I would have done what I did Friday night for someone I just had casual feelings about?"

Rachel leaned into her touch before hastily straightening her posture, "Then you should have no trouble further convincing me of that over the next two weeks."

"No."

Rachel beamed, "See, I knew you'd come around, now first of all I…"

"I mean: no I'm not doing it!"

The smile dropped and Rachel grew impatient, "Quinn, this really isn't up for discussion."

"You're right, it isn't. You told me what I had to do to be with you, and I did it. If that's not enough for you… actually, there is no if; it will be enough for you because I didn't put myself through that just so you could do this. So, stop being such a diva and kiss me before I have to go to practice."

With the matter dealt with, Quinn cupped her cheek and leaned in to capture her lips, only to let out a frustrated rush of breath when Rachel turned her face away.

"It's not like I didn't expect you would need some time to jump on board, but I should warn you that all you're doing right now is adding to the con list."

"I don't care about your stupid list, Rachel!"

"Of course you don't care about the list! I haven't been bullying you for the last three miserable years. I'm not the one who is pregnant with a steady boyfriend! In fact, other than your ridiculousdesperation to retain your Barbie-girlpopularity, there is absolutely no reason why you shouldn't fall in lovewith me!"

It stung like a slap to the face, except a slap probably would have hurt less. Oddly, she didn't feel like bursting into tears or punching Rachel in the face. She just felt blank, numb, vacant, much like after the first little stick had turned pink.

The anger drained from Rachel's face as soon as she'd spoken, "Quinn, I'm…"

She had cheerleading practice to get to. God, it was going to be hell. She should have quizzed Rachel on what had happened in the locker room after she'd left – knowing what Santana and the other Cheerios had said about her before walking into the den of lions would have been useful. Instead, she'd wasted it on trying to make Rachel feel better about Glee. Stupid. Still, at least it wouldn't be a mistake she'd get a chance to repeat.

"… really sorry. I shouldn't have said all of that. I just…"

She might as well get it over with. Besides, she was still Captain. They could whisper about her as much as they liked behind her back and she could make them do suicides in front of her face for the whole freaking practice. Not Santana and Brittany though. No, she needed to get them back on her side, and fast. If she was going to put all of the silly lesbian rumors to bed once and for all, she would need their help.

"… wanted you to understand how much this means to me…"

It was getting cold just standing here for no reason. Turning on her heel she walked away from the back of the workshop.

"Quinn, please, don't go!" Berry's voice was shrill and annoying behind her, "Stay and talk to me, please! Quinn, come back!"

Quinn almost laughed, why would she stay? There was nothing to come back for. Everything she'd given Rachel had just been destroyed and forgive her if she didn't want to gaze at the destruction for any longer than she had to. Nothing here mattered to her now.

She stopped in her tracks at the corner. Actually, something did. She couldn't take back her words, or her kisses, or the foolish mistakes she'd made. They might be crushed under Berry's heels now but the girl would still have them forever. But there was one small part of Quinn's affection that she could take back.

When she walked back, Berry gave her a tentative smile and stepped to meet her, "I'm so sorry, Quinn, my words were completely out of line. You have to understand that none of the things I said, while true, mean I don't want to be with you."

Whatever.

Quinn snatched the teddy bear out of Berry's unsuspecting hand and sharply turned to walk away again.

"Hey! Quinn, you gave that to me!" There was a wet slap as a foot stamped the soggy grass. She smiled to think of the mud that must have splashed up onto Berry's ludicrous white knee socks, "Fine! Be immature about this. But at least give me back the umbrella, it is mine after all."

Oh yeah, she'd forgotten that. She threw it over the chain-link fence without slowing down and, clutching Grumpy Bear so tight in her hand she was surprised the head didn't pop off, went to cheerleading practice.