Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

"Are you sure you don't want to go see a doctor?", Frannie, Quinn's big sister and cohabitant asked her before she walked to work that day.

"Fran, I am fine", Quinn reassured her when she looked in the mirror to check her makeup. The bruises had been covered up perfectly, people wouldn't see them anymore.

"But next time, please call me so that I pick you up from work, okay? They could have killed you!"

"Okay, now, you are exaggerating. You were at a party, I didn't want to disturb you", Quinn explained tiredly, took her purse and was about to leave. "Don't worry about me, okay?"

Frannie still looked after her in a worried way when she walked out of the house.

"Hello, there."

Quinn turned her head, not surprised to see none other than Puck walk next to her. "Hey, Robin."

"I did some research, and I realized that you were talking about one of Shakespeare's works." He grimaced. "I have never been a great fan of English literature. Or any literature."

"Too bad", Quinn answered, quickening her pace so that she got rid of him. "I only like guys that are intellectuals."

"But I am a cop", Puck pouted, showing her his mark. "Women usually do find that attractive."

"If you still think that women like scrawny men with no brains, you are wrong", Quinn said kind of huffishly. "That's so outdated."

"Ouch, that hurt" Puck feigned indignation, gasping for air.

"You are such a jerk." Even though Quinn wanted to keep a straight face, she couldn't help but smile faintly.

"You already like me, don't ya?", Puck asked her teasingly, nudging her. "You have the hots for badass cops like me?"

"Only in your dreams, Robin", Quinn said with gritted teeth. "If you excuse me, I have something called a job. A lot of paperwork is already awaiting me." In the meantime, they had arrived in front of the building where Quinn's office was.

Puck whistled impressedly. "Nice."

"Get out of my head, Noah", Quinn ordered, crossing her arms. "I don't want you at my workplace. Leave."

"Oh, come on, I got this day off and I am bored. Please?", Puck pleaded with puppy dog eyes. "What's the worst I could do? Hit on your sexy coworkers? As far as I know, you are the only one who can see me."

"I don't know yet how that whole thing works", Quinn admitted when she opened the door and entered. "Yesterday when you took over, I was only on the backseat in my own body and couldn't control anymore what I was doing. What if you hit on my coworkers while you are me?"

Puck frowned. "I don't think it works this way. And even if it would, I would never do that, okay? I'm a cop, I am one of the good ones. Or I am supposed to be."

Quinn quirked her eyebrows in disbelief when she entered her office. "Yeah, let's see about that."

She was lucky, Dalia, the workmate with whom she shared the office, called in sick, so Quinn (and Puck) had the room to theirselves.

When Quinn sat down at her desk, she threw Puck a stern glance. "Don't even think about talking, laughing or breathing audibly. I need to concentrate."

Puck slumped down onto the desk next to a stack of sheets, pouting. "Too bad. I could keep you company while you…" He stared onto the first sheet and its headline with a clueless frown. "What the hell is legal positivism?"

"You can do this, don't freak out", Quinn muttered to herself while she stared at her laptop's display.

"I guess you have been one of those boring nerds at school that turned into hot chicks after college", Puck commented, wiggling his eyebrows.

"I was a cheerleader", she deadpanned. "And boring wouldn't be the right expression. I got pregnant when I was sixteen."

Puck looked up, staring at her with an open mouth. "No effing way! You, stuck-up, high and mighty attorney chick are a teen mom?"

Quinn shrugged, trying to look annoyed even though she needed to smile. "It was a one-night stand with one of the jocks, his name was Matt. After I told him he was the father, he kind of left the city. I guess he was too ashamed.", she explained, still feeling bitter about it after all those years. "I have never seen him again."

"What a douchebag", Puck growled, eyes narrowed. "You are the coolest chick I know."

When Quinn looked up, she was surprised that he looked at her without any judgements. Other people around her had been reacting in a disgusted or irritated way, like the majority of the men on her blinddates so far.

"What happened to the baby?"

"I wasn't ready for taking care of a kid, I was still a kid myself. So after I gave birth to the baby, I gave it up to adoption. I heard that she was adopted by a nice woman only a few weeks later, and I am sure she will be a better mom than I could ever be."

Quinn realized that she had never talked about that touchy topic with someone before. She needed to blink back a few tears.

"Hey, I'm sure you would have been a great mom", Puck said in a soft way. "I mean you could take on two bad guys singlehandedly."

"You beat them up", Quinn pointed out, crossing her arms. "I was just standing next to you, doing nothing while you took them down."

"But that doesn't change the fact that you are awesome", Puck insisted. "You already brought so many douches to jail, more than I did as a cop."

"How do you…?"

Puck pointed at her head, smirking. "I just found out how to read your mind, attorney chick, don't ask me how. Point is that you need to start believing in yourself, and if you do, the world will realize what a brilliant star you actually are."

With a bewildered face expression, Quinn looked at him, tears were glittering in her eyes "That's the deepest sentence you have said so far. And the nicest."

For a while, they were just looking at each other, longingly staring at each other's lips.

Puck cleared his throat, feigning nonchalance. "Hey, what do you think? I am Robin Goodfellow."

Quinn facepalmed. There went that special moment between them. "Are you aware that Robin Goodfellow was one of the bad guys?"

With a wide grin, Puck answered: "Now, I am. I should have known that I should have read more than the first two sentences of A Midsummer Night's Dream."

"Santana? Oh, I can't believe it! What a surprise!" Brittany got up to hug her. Surprised, Santana hugged her back.

"What have you been doing in the past years?", Santana asked her after she had sat down next to the blonde.

Her eyes sparkled when she started talking, telling her how the new school for exceptionally gifted kids had done her good and made her get into MIT.

"And now, I am writing my dissertation about a topic of Further Mathematics", Brittany explained, smiling from ear to ear. "I can tell you the first hundred decimal places of Pi. The lecturers of MIT think I am one of the biggest geniuses since Einstein."

Oh, the irony.

"But I thought you wanted to become a dancer one day", Santana wondered. "Back then in school, you have been among the best of the best."

"I am still into dancing and I also took dance lessons as a minor at MIT", Brittany explained with a smile "But math is my real passion." She leaned forward to Santana, interested. "And what have you been doing in the past years? Did you also go to college?"

When Santana was about to tell her about that she dropped out, she said instead: "Oh, yes, I did. What a great time."

Dammit, normally, she was proud of what she was doing. But why was she so insecure around Britt all of a sudden? "I also took some math courses as a minor."

"And what was your major?", Brittany asked full of interest.

Sheesh, Santana dropped out before she could even choose a major. How embarrassing.

Exactly at that moment, she spotted a black woman sit on their opposite, watching their interaction with interest.

For some reason, Santana got the feeling that only she could see her, and Britt couldn't. She threw the woman a pleading glance who in turn winked at her.

"My major is veterinary medicine", Santana suddenly heard herself say, and she was sure that those words weren't hers. "I am a veterinary physician in training as I still write my doctoral thesis about zoonosis."

"That's sounds interesting", Brittany answered, clearly impressed. "I don't know much about animals, but I have a cat named Lord Tubbington. He is overweight. Maybe you can have a look at him one day."

"I would love to", Santana answered politely even though she doubted it was a good idea.

"So, what was your favorite math subject?", Brittany asked her, interested.

This time, the woman answered for Santana as well. "Oh, how I love Calculus, especially when I need to calculate the area under a curve. Integration is goals; did you know that the symbol of integration is an elongated S that stands for sum?"

Brittany grinned. "Now, I know. I guess not even geniuses know everything."

Santana had absolutely no clue about math, let alone calculus.
She had no idea how she even made it through highschool with her horrible grades in math.

In the next two hours, she (or rather that woman) and Brittany talked about bivariate distributions (?), Fermat's little theorem (What the hell is a theorem? And little was the biggest understatement of the history), and conic sections (for some reason, Santana needed to think about comics.)

After a while, the blonde got up, throwing Santana an apologetic glance. "I am so sorry, but I need to go now. But I would like to meet you again sometime." She scribbled something on a sheet of paper. "Here, take this and call me. We need to continue our conversation about Euclidean geometry soon", she winked.

"Yes, we definitely should", Santana said faintly.

Brittany leaned down and kissed her softly on her cheek. "See you around, Santana."

Unable to say anything, she just waved after the blonde who walked away gracefully.

"I was great, wasn't I?", the black woman on Santana's opposite spoke up, kind of smug. "During my studies, I took some courses in further mathematics as well."

"Who the hell are you?", Santana asked her.

"I'm Mercedes, a vet from San Diego. Okay, almost-vet. And according to that newspaper over there, we're are in Miami now, right?"

Santana nodded shortly. "Ermm…thanks you just helped me out, Aretha."

Mercedes frowned. "My name is not… nevermind. But is it a good idea to lie to her?"

"Technically, I wasn't lying", Santana smirked.

"Yes, you were.", Mercedes insisted. "She needs to like you for who you are, not for who you would like her to be. Who knows, maybe she is cool with you being a stripper with no college diploma. Cause you do have brains, bachelor's degree or not."

At that, Santana just snorted bitterly "Come on, Aretha. We both know this is a lie. I am a stupid slut. Why should someone as pure and intelligent as Brittany like me of all people?"

When she noticed that people around her were staring because she was allegedly talking to herself, she glared at all of them. "Why are you gaping?", she barked, and people quickly turned away. "Soliloquizing is a sign of intelligence. Only special people do that", she added, exchanging knowing glances with Mercedes.

Time passed, and the day of the wedding came closer and closer – until it was finally the day of the wedding.

"Are you nervous?", Burt asked his son carefully before he would lead him to the marriage registrar. Kurt couldn't help but nod. "Marrying isn't exactly something you do every day, dad", he pointed out. "Of course, I am nervous."

He nervously wanted to pick at his tie when Burt put away his hand. "Don't do that, okay? It took you hours to arrange your outfit and I don't want you to destroy it."

Kurt laughed. "Too late, dad. I don't think I chose the right suit and the color of the tie is just horrendous. It's…"

"Hey, hey, hey", Burt cut him off firmly. "Calm down, okay? You love this man; this is supposed to be your day, and nothing is going to destroy it. Nothing, okay?"

Kurt nodded slowly. "Yes, you are right. I shouldn't freak out; I don't know what has gotten into me."

At that moment, Carole entered the room, telling them that the marriage registrar was ready and that they could come out now.

"Well, bud, off we go", Burt said solemnly and linked arms with his son.

"Yay", Kurt answered, smiling with anticipation. His dad was right, this was his big day, and nothing would go wrong.

…

With a backflip, Blaine jumped into the indoor pool of a private gym. Said gym belonged to Wes' family, since he and his parents were on vacation over the weekend and David needed to work, he had it all to himself.

Right now, he was the only one at the pool so he could do whatever he wanted to.

Since his swimming trunks were dirty, he had to wear that embarrassing red and tight swimming slip Cooper had given to him on his last birthday.

Blaine had refused to wear it to that day because seriously, it was way too gay, even for him who wore bowties, gelled back hair and tight pants voluntarily.

Grinning naughtily, Blaine took off that embarrassing, heinous slip, laid it onto the edge of the pool, took a deep breath and submerged.

…

Kurt didn't even listen to what the marriage registrar had been saying in the past thirty minutes. Why was it so hot in there all of a sudden now that he was standing on Vince's opposite? Kurt had no idea. He resisted the urge to fan himself.

"Vincent Slatter, do you agree to marrying Kurt Hummel?"

"Oh, I do", Vincent said fervently.

The way Vincent looked at him now made Kurt even more nervous. As if he loved him more than he deserved - what he probably did.

What had he been thinking when he said yes at the proposal?

"And Kurt Hummel, do you want to marry Vincent Slatter?"

Suddenly, all the people sitting in the audience in front of Kurt vanished, so did Vince. Instead, he saw an attractive man with dark hair emerge from a pool.

And…holy moly.

He was … gosh, he was... he was ... he was... naked as a jaybird.

Like, stark naked.

Really, really naked.

Oh dear lord...

Kurt needed to gasp for air. Not only his abs made his mouth go dry. His eyes were glued to another certain body part of that stranger. Even though he tried, he just couldn't look away.

Dammit, what had gotten into him?! He was about to marry the love of his life and stared at another guy's thing his mind probably just made up. Something needed to be very, very, very wrong with him.

Said man just cocked his eyebrow unimpressedly when he looked back and forth between Kurt and Vince.

"Are you sure you want to marry that guy?", he asked, crossing his slightly muscular arms and looking at Kurt with his piercing brown-golden eyes. "You don't even love him."

Kurt couldn't explain what happened next, or why it happened. Whether it had been because of his nervousness? Whether all the planning had been too much for him? Whether the dripping wet and, most importantly, stark naked man in front of him overwhelmed him?

He would never know.

All he knew was that he passed out in front of the marriage registrar and his fiancé before he could even give an answer.

Yeah, I'm aware that I totally ripped off that scene from the series, but I just found it awesome xD