A Little Unbroken

by trifectaimperfecta

The story of how the misunderstood dreamer, the attention seeker with a secret, and the outcast-turned-social butterfly became what was known as the Unholy Trinity. It begins when Brittany and Santana are twelve and follows the journey all the way to senior year. Pairings: principally Brittana and Faberry.

14. Through the Dark

AN: The lyrics that appear in this chapter are from the Cherish/Cherish mash-up featured in "Heart," With or Without You by U2, and Maybe I'm Amazed by Paul McCartney.

---

"I said no."

Quinn's lips barely moved as she murmured in disbelief.

"You did?"

Rachel nodded.

"Well, technically, the words I used were: 'I can't,'" Rachel amended. "I knew there was a time when what he was doing would have been a dream come true, but everything felt all wrong."

"Why was that?" Quinn prompted.

"He'd just finished saying all these things that sounded so sweet on the surface," Rachel said. "But I couldn't stop thinking about what you and I talked about; you know, how he didn't naturally consider our relationship as something special in his life. Finn went from practically forgetting about what he shared with me to saying he wanted to keep me forever. So I pointed that out to him and asked what had changed."

"You really asked him, point-blank?" Quinn marveled.

"Yeah," Rachel confirmed sheepishly.

"Well, you always were one for the direct approach," Quinn remarked. "I'd wager he didn't like it very much this time."

"I worried that blurting it out that way would hurt him or make him angry. It turns out that he actually looked more like he was trying to backtrack," Rachel said. "He didn't have an answer for me and I could see him searching for the words to smooth it over. That told me all I needed to know."

Her shoulders drooped and she looked down at her knees.

"He was just clinging to me like a piece of driftwood after a shipwreck," she concluded. "Nothing else has worked out in his favor lately and this was like some last-ditch effort to have a post-graduation plan."

She blinked rapidly and lifted her gaze to the ceiling, fighting valiantly to stave off tears.

"It hurt," Rachel admitted. "But I couldn't leave well enough alone. I just had to keep going."

Quinn waited patiently, uncertain where the other girl's story was headed.

"I held his hands and I asked him to be completely honest with me," Rachel expounded. "I said, 'If you and I weren't us, and your future was entirely up to you, where would you go and what would you do?'"

She paused to sniffle and take a fortifying deep breath.

"He told me that he would probably just take over Burt's auto shop. Burt already told Finn the place is his, if he wants it," Rachel continued. "Then I asked, 'So New York would never even enter your mind as an option?' and he said, 'Not without you, no. I like singing and performing, but it's just not what I want to do with the rest of my life.'"

Rachel shook her head despondently and heaved a long, drawn-out sigh.

"Why have I been plugging my ears to this for so long?" she asked rhetorically. "I've just been plowing along like New York was our future together, and he would want the same bright lights and big city that have always called to me. That's how it's supposed to work, though, isn't it? You share the dream with the one you love. Or, at the very least, their dream runs parallel with yours so that you're moving in the same direction."

Quinn rubbed Rachel's knee consolingly, opting to remain silent while she listened to whatever else remained to be said.

"I've been so stupid," Rachel muttered. "I just decided the way that I thought my life was supposed to be and ignored it when reality deviated from the script."

"Not stupid," Quinn kindly corrected. "Optimistic, yes. Fixated? A little. Still, when it comes to either facing the truth or having our hearts broken, wouldn't we all rather delay the inevitable for as long as possible?"

"I'm just so scared now," Rachel confessed wretchedly. "You spend years working toward obtaining something and following a certain trajectory and then... nothing. The complete unknown. I feel like bits of who I was are eroding away with each passing week. I don't even know who's looking back at me in the mirror anymore."

Quinn traced the veins in Rachel's hands while she spoke.

"Maybe that's why everyone talks about college students as if they undergo some sort of identity crisis," Quinn suggested. "Because they've all had to cut the tethers to what they built over the past twelve years. Being thrust into the adult world forces them to redefine everything, so they have to start from scratch."

"Not to cast an over-hasty judgment, but adulthood sucks," Rachel said gloomily.

Quinn couldn't help but laugh.

"That's what I hear."

Rachel slumped back in her seat and shut her eyes.

"Do you think the rest of the world would object if I took a rain check and waited another five years to grow older?"

"I think we'd be crossing into J.M. Barrie territory there," Quinn told her.

"Damn."

Quinn traced the toe of her tennis shoe along the edge of Rachel's flats.

"So, you and Finn..."

"Are no longer an 'and,' from the looks of things," Rachel bleakly confirmed. "Now I'm just me."

Quinn nodded, leaned back against the bed, and folded her hands over her stomach.

"What are you thinking?" Rachel asked softly.

"That I hate knowing you're in so much pain," Quinn answered. "And I hate myself even more for being happy. All that matters is for you to be okay again. It's selfish to think of anything else at this point."

Rachel vacated the chair and joined Quinn on the bed, mirroring her state of physical repose. They both gazed up at the stomp patterns on the ceiling and got lost in their thoughts for a time.

"Would it be wrong if I asked you to hold me?" Rachel queried. "Everything is just scattered to the wind right now and I need something to keep me in place. I understand if it would be too uncomfortable, but I just thought it might make me feel safe."

Quinn turned onto her side and trailed her fingertips over the design on the blankets.

"I don't mind."

She extended her arms. Rachel scooted into the embrace and turned away from her. Quinn curled against Rachel's body and held her tightly.

"I really don't deserve to have you be so good to me," Rachel admitted. "After dragging you along through everything with Finn. You must think I don't care about you much at all, making you suffer like that."

Quinn shook her head.

"You needed to work through this your own way," she said. "You and Finn have a history. Goading you into tearing it apart before you were ready only would have put me in the position to be a rebound. That's not what I wanted."

Rachel wove their fingers together and bit her lip.

"What is it that you want?" she inquired in a voice barely above a whisper.

Quinn considered this a moment.

"I want you to have time to mourn the end of your relationship with Finn, time to just be on your own for a bit. Not alone," she hastened to add. "I'll be right there anytime you need me, but I want you to have space to just be Rachel for a while - no pressure, no rush, no demands."

"That's probably a wise idea," Rachel agreed reluctantly. "But, while that's going on, can I maybe still ask to be held like this sometimes?"

Quinn chuckled and nuzzled Rachel's hair.

"Of course. All you'll have to do is say the word."

... ... ...

"Can I see it?"

Brittany cast a wary glance around the hallway and nodded curtly. Puck followed her lead as she walked briskly into a vacant classroom, out of view of the passing students. Santana caught sight of their departure and bounded after them.

"I'm not really supposed to remove the bandages," Brittany said once they were alone. "But, um, here..."

She pulled up the zipper on the side of her uniform top and showed Puck her heavily wrapped ribcage.

"Shit," he swore quietly. "How bad is it underneath?"

"It's getting better slowly," Santana answered. "But she's still not supposed to overexert herself while it finishes healing."

"Yeah, so no practicing with the Cheerios," Brittany said.

"But you're still in the uniform," Puck countered.

"Coach Sylvester still expects me to attend so I can see the routines and commit them to memory," Brittany explained. "That way, I won't fall too far behind to compete, when the time comes."

Puck reached out tentatively and ran his fingertips over her bandages.

"Does it still hurt?"

"Twinges, sometimes," Brittany admitted. "But I feel a little better every day. The painkillers help."

Puck's features hardened and he glared out the open doorway.

"That Coleman guy is lucky they expelled him or I would've buried his scrawny white ass."

"You and me both," Santana grumbled.

"It's complete bullshit that the rest of the team is still here, though," Puck ranted. "They're the reason you're like this. He gave them the idea, but they didn't have to carry it out."

"They're banned from the rest of the matches this year," Brittany said. "That's something, I guess."

"It's not enough!" Puck fumed. "If Figgins won't put things right, then I will."

He slammed a fist into his open palm. Brittany put a hand on his shoulder.

"Please don't," she begged. "Now that Josh is gone, they've avoided me ever since."

"Oh, come on," Puck insisted. "I made you a promise, you and Santana. I said I was going to look out for you guys. Now I finally have a chance to do that and you're telling me to let it slide?"

"I don't want there to be any more violence," Brittany declared. "Even from a friend who means well."

Puck turned to Santana.

"What about you?"

Santana looked from him to Brittany and back again.

"Britt-Britt's right," she reluctantly agreed. "We're better than them, and we're not going to stoop to their level. Causing them pain isn't going to take Brittany's away."

Puck jammed his hands into the pockets of his jacket and mulled this over for a few moments.

"All right," he said at last. "But, if I promise not to touch a hair on their heads, will you let me have my payback?"

Santana crossed her arms and lifted her eyebrows.

"How exactly are you going to do that?"

"The locker rooms don't have security cameras and I am a genius lock picker," Puck replied. "After a few turns in my mom's washer and dryer, I'll have their uniforms looking like they were made for JV. Those guys better get real secure with their manhood, 'cause those things will show off every nook and cranny."

... ... ...

Quinn and Rachel sat on opposite sides of a table in the library and stared at the thin white envelope between them.

"You should probably open it," Quinn coaxed gently. "We've only got about ten minutes left before the bell rings."

Rachel nodded but made no move to examine the letter's contents.

"Do you want me to open it and tell you what it says?" Quinn offered.

"No, I want to read the words," Rachel said. "It's just... what if they aren't the words I want it to say?"

"There's only one way you'll be able to find out."

Rachel's hand shot across the table. She extended it, palm up, and waited for Quinn to cover it with her own. Quinn complied and gave the other girl a reassuring smile. Rachel's free hand at last lifted the envelope and eased it open with one sliding finger. She pulled the folded paper from within and spread it out atop the table.

Quinn watched her eyes move rapidly back and forth. She studied Rachel's features for any indication of whether the news was bad or good.

"Well?" she prompted quietly. "What did they tell you?"

"I'm a finalist," Rachel mumbled in amazement. "It says I'm a finalist."

She covered her mouth with both hands as tears sprang to her eyes. Rachel rose from her chair and circled to where Quinn was seated. She threw her arms around Quinn's neck and wept onto her shoulder.

"I've almost made it," Rachel whispered.

Quinn cupped Rachel's head and rubbed the girl's back with her other hand.

"I told you so," Quinn teased affectionately. "They'd have to be out of their minds to let you go."

... ... ...

It was an oddly sunny afternoon for early February, and the students of McKinley were milling around the courtyard enjoying the unseasonable weather while they ate their lunch. Brittany and Santana, in an effort to have a little privacy so that they could converse freely, sat atop the flight of steps leading down to the tables. They shivered a little from the chill of the cement, but it gave them an excuse to huddle closer to one another.

"How does it feel?" Santana asked. "Being all healed up finally after three weeks?"

"So good," Brittany said as she ran her hands over her ribcage. "No more itchiness or pain or medicine. Just me, back to normal."

Santana leaned her head against Brittany's shoulder.

"I really am glad you're better, baby," she told her. "And even more relieved that asshole is far away and can't touch us anymore."

Brittany nodded her agreement. She checked her watch.

"Darn," she muttered. "It's almost time to go back to class."

Brittany grabbed their paper bags and carried them to the trash can at the top of the stairs. She turned to find that Santana had followed and was gazing at her with a soft smile.

"What?" Brittany asked shyly.

"I really want to kiss you," Santana murmured.

Brittany glanced down at the courtyard full of other students.

"Here?" she clarified. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," Santana declared. "It's not a secret anymore, and I'm so tired of hiding in plain sight. It's like I'm censoring myself or something, and that isn't fair. If they've got a problem with it, then to hell with 'em. I love you, Brittany, and I'm sick of letting them make me feel like I have to conceal that."

Brittany smiled and stepped a little closer. She held out her hands and Santana clasped them in her own. Santana drew in a shaky breath. Then she tugged Brittany in until their torsos touched and cupped the sides of her face.

"Come here," Santana urged in a breathy whisper.

She pulled Brittany's face to hers and warmly pressed their lips together. Brittany wrapped her arms around Santana's body and smiled. Then she kissed her back with equal fervor, wreathed in sunlight for all the school to see.

... ... ...

Quinn walked into the flower shop and breathed in the pleasant aroma. The interior of the store was a visual explosion of color. There were pre-made bouquets and beautiful blooms of every shape and size. She glanced around at her options, casually noting the price of each choice as she passed.

"Is there anything I can help you find?" the girl behind the counter offered.

Quinn looked up and did a double-take.

"Harmony?" she blurted out. "What are you doing here?"

"You're one of the New Directions," Harmony correctly identified once she could see her face. "I'm glad I made an impression. I've just been putting in some hours here whenever I can to save up for a workshop I'll be attending in New York this summer."

Quinn nodded vaguely. Even off the stage, the girl still had the same glint in her shining blue eyes.

"So, who are you here for today?" Harmony prompted. "Your mother? A sibling? Someone special? A treat for yourself?"

"A friend," Quinn replied as casually as she could manage. "Although I wasn't planning on committing to anything today. I just wanted an idea of what there was to choose from in here."

Harmony circled the counter and walked among the arrangements, gesturing to various flowers around the room as she spoke.

"Well, we have sweet brier, morning glories, stargazer lilies, and primroses that just came in this morning-"

Her recitation was interrupted when the bell over the door rang a second time as a new customer came into the shop.

"We're having quite the Sectionals Reunion," Harmony commented archly as Finn came into view. "What can I get for you?"

Finn drew up short when he saw that Quinn was there as well, but he quickly recovered himself and responded to Harmony's question.

"I'm here to look for some flowers for Valentine's Day," Finn said. "At first I was thinking roses, but those can be kinda expensive and they might come on a little too strong. Maybe something smaller... Would carnations work, do you think?"

"They could," Harmony confirmed as she walked toward where the store's carnations were kept. "Which ones do you have in mind?"

"Pink, I guess," Finn answered uncertainly. "It's her favorite color."

Quinn ran her tongue over her teeth and tried to keep her temper in check.

"Pink is traditionally given to mothers," she piped up from where she still stood a short distance away next to the checkout counter.

Harmony lifted an eyebrow and turned to Quinn with mixed surprise and respect.

"Don't let my boss hear you spouting off flower meanings, or I'll be out of a job," she joked. "Your classmate's right, though. One meaning connected to pink carnations is 'a mother's love.' We see a lot of sales for that one on Mother's Day. Not that it doesn't have other meanings too but, if you're going for a more romantic gesture, the red carnation would be the stronger bet."

Finn trailed his fingertip along the stems of the red carnations.

"What do they say?"

Harmony's eyes looked up to the ceiling as she tried to recall.

"If memory serves, the exact phrase is 'my heart aches for you,'" she said after a moment. "Not sure if that's what you're after, given that you didn't want to come on too strong..."

"I'll take them," Finn said hastily. "A dozen."

Harmony shrugged disinterestedly and gathered twelve of the red carnations. She took them up to the counter, wrapped and fastened them, and then rang them up on the register. Finn fished into his back pocket for his wallet and paid for his purchase.

"You know, it's weird having you help me pick out flowers for Rachel," Finn remarked to Quinn as he handed the bills over to Harmony. "'Cause Rachel was the one who told me which corsage to get you for prom last year. Funny how things come full circle, huh?"

He took the flowers from Harmony and then squared his shoulders.

"Wish me luck," he said nervously.

"Good luck," Harmony said with a practiced grin she had clearly learned through show choir.

Quinn forced an encouraging expression as well and watched Finn depart from the store. Then the information he had shared began to dominate her thoughts. Quinn turned to Harmony with her mouth slightly agape and her brow furrowed as she tried to process the fact that the corsage she kept pressed in a book at home had come from Rachel, not Finn.

"Thinking about buying a bouquet today after all?" Harmony guessed. "What have you decided?"

"Phlox," Quinn determined while her mind still reeled. "Do you have any?"

Harmony gave her a genuine smile and nodded.

"Coming right up."

... ... ...

"Okay, okay, just one more time," Brittany said. "I'll go first."

"My stomach is starting to hurt," Santana mumbled.

"Probably from being the one who can't stop giggling every time we've played so far," Quinn remarked.

The girls were forming a triangle with their bodies on the floor in Brittany's room, with their heads on one another's torsos, attempting to play their third round of a game they remembered from childhood.

"Here goes," Brittany prefaced. "Ha!"

"Ha, ha!" Santana seconded, deliberately forcing each syllable out hard enough to make her friend's head loll back and forth across her abdomen.

"Ha, ha, ha!" Quinn followed.

"Ha, ha, ha, ha!"

"Ha, ha, ha, ha h- oh, fuck!" Santana began cackling hysterically.

"Please tell me what I just heard came from a creaky floorboard!" Quinn cried as she sat bolt upright and pushed herself hastily across the carpet away from Santana.

Santana's continued fit of laughter gave all the answer that they needed.

"Damn it!" Quinn groused as she held an arm over her nose. "Brittany, your girlfriend is a flatulent asshole!"

"Quite literally, at the moment," Santana quipped with a decidedly smug smirk on her face.

"At least I talked her out of the peppers at dinner," Brittany said and moved to perch on the edge of her desk.

Quinn walked over to the window and opened it a little.

"All right," Santana said from her place on the floor. "While you're airing me out, I have a question for you, Fabray."

"What's your question?"

"You and the flowers for Berry - how did that go?" Santana inquired.

"I sort of chickened out," Quinn confessed. "Well, partially."

Santana turned onto her stomach and propped her chin up on her hands.

"Explain," she coaxed dryly.

"Finn was there, and he was getting flowers for her, too," Quinn replied. "I didn't want it to turn into some my-bouquet's-bigger-than-yours contest. So I had mine delivered to her door with a note saying they were congratulations for being a NYADA finalist."

"That's precious, but down to business," Santana said briskly. "How did Hose Nose feel about Finn's offering?"

Quinn gave Santana a reproving look before she allowed herself a small smile.

"She accepted them, but she told him that was all they could be: a one time gift. Rachel said, even though it was sweet, the two of them trying to be together again would only make it all hurt even more," Quinn answered.

"Request for admittance denied!" Santana cawed. "I never thought I'd see the day! Rachel Berry refused an advance from Finn Hudson. Hallelujah! Praise Jesus!"

Quinn pulled one of Brittany's pillows onto her lap and hugged it against her chest. Santana rose from the carpet and sat next to her on the mattress.

"You've got to make your move now. You know that, right?" Santana asked. "Valentine's Day is Friday. Invite her to that dance Sugar is throwing at Breadstix."

"I couldn't do that," Quinn said as she blushed deeply. "This soon after she turned down Finn's proposal, the shit would really hit the fan."

Santana groaned.

"But you've got to do something!" she protested.

"There was one thing I decided to try," Quinn admitted. "You know how Mercedes, Sam, and I are singing songs this week to raise money for the God Squad's charity work?"

Brittany and Santana nodded.

"I gave Mercedes ten dollars yesterday and put in a request to have a song sung for Rachel," Quinn confided. "Rachel's still trying to be considerate and not broadcast the news about the proposal, so Mercedes assumed the request came from Finn. Still, they agreed to do the performance."

Brittany hopped up and down and grinned excitedly.

"What did you request?"

"Stereo Hearts," Quinn replied bashfully.

"Aww," Santana teased and crawled across the bed to hug Quinn's head to her chest. "Isn't she adorable, Britt? Our Q's the most pitifully smitten kitten since..."

"...you?" Quinn finished.

Santana shoved her playfully and laughed.

"Fair enough," she conceded. "Now, letting your Bible hugging peeps think this is a heterosexual declaration is fine and dandy, sunshine, but you had better make sure Gonzo knows who really requested it. If I find out you're pulling any Cyrano de Bergerac crap, I'm gonna kick your ass."

"I'll tell her, whenever I get the chance," Quinn assured.

Santana narrowed her eyes suspiciously but allowed the matter to drop.

"What about you guys?" Quinn redirected the subject. "Are either of you planning on buying a song?"

"I might have certain plans to that end," Santana responded casually as she pretended to examine her cuticles.

"You do?" Brittany queried.

Santana shot her a flirtatious wink.

"You'll just have to wait and see, beautiful," she said. "I can't let you be the one who has all the good surprises."

... ... ...

Friday night arrived and, true to Sugar's word, Breadstix was utterly transformed. There were hearts everywhere, including the ice sculpture, and a stage had been set up near the center of the restaurant.

Brittany and Santana found an empty table to share and watched as Sugar bustled to and fro, making sure everything was in place for the beginning of the party.

"I'm so excited," Brittany told Santana as she watched a few people set up microphones along the stage. "I finally get to hear the song you picked for me."

Santana nodded and smiled. Her heart was drumming inside her chest and she felt nervous butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Brittany had given her the most thoughtful and adorable mix CD earlier that day, and Santana only hoped this song dedication could mean half as much to her girlfriend as that gift had to her.

The rest of the guests arrived gradually over the next fifteen minutes. Santana fed Brittany some of the complementary chocolates on the table while they waited. When the restaurant was full, Sugar took her place center stage and snatched up a microphone.

"What up, McKinley?" she shouted excitedly. "Welcome to the Sugar Shack!"

Everyone whooped and hollered jovially. When Sugar announced that there were gift cards under their chairs, she was met with an even more enthusiastic response. Beaming happily at this warm reception, Sugar introduced that evening's entertainment.

"Next up, straight from Heaven above, give it up for the God Squad!"

Quinn, Sam, and Mercedes took their place onstage to deafening applause from their friends. Quinn plucked a microphone off one of the stands and moved to occupy the space where Sugar had been standing.

"This past Tuesday, my best friend Santana Lopez asked us if we could perform a song for her girlfriend, Brittany Pierce," Quinn announced. "Unlike the other numbers we've done over the course of this week, Santana had imagined a very specific arrangement: a mash-up of Cherish by The Association and Cherish by Madonna. It took us a few days to get the sound just right, but I hope this is something like what you had in mind, Santana."

As their friends began to sing, Santana grasped both of Brittany's hands in hers and pressed a soft kiss to her ring finger. Brittany watched her girlfriend's lips with an irrepressible smile.

"Cherish is the word I use to describe

All the feeling that I have hiding here for you inside

You don't know how many times I wish that I had told you

You don't know how many times I wish that I could hold you

You don't know how many times I wished that I could mold you into someone

Who would cherish the thought of always having you here by my side..."

Brittany and Santana danced in their seats for the first part of the song but, after the God Squad stopped by the table to sing to them face-to-face, Santana took Brittany by the hand and led her out onto the floor.

Santana grinned so broadly that she suspected her cheeks would soon be sore, but she didn't care. When Brittany pulled her nearer and enfolded Santana in her arms, all that mattered was the closeness of their bodies while they swayed to the music Santana had chosen specially for her. Santana let her cheek touch Brittany's as they danced to the last lines of the song. Brittany leaned back to murmur a quiet thank you for her beautiful gift.

Then Santana tilted her head to the side and lightly pursed her lips, waiting patiently for Brittany to close the gap between them and give her a kiss so sweet and affectionate that it made her heart skip a beat on contact. Brittany threw both arms around her and hugged her even tighter, smiling against her mouth. Everyone clapped and cheered, and Santana was certain that this Valentine's Day could not possibly be more perfect.

"Jesus, holla!" Sugar called happily as she resumed her place on stage.

While Sugar was introducing Blaine as the next singer, Quinn went back to the table she shared with the rest of the God Squad and noticed that Rachel had just arrived. She tried to make her way through the crowd to speak to her, but at that moment Rachel, along with Mercedes and Brittany, joined Blaine on the stage to be his back-up singers. Quinn sighed but fell in good-naturedly when everyone in the restaurant began to dance. Balloons were released from the ceiling to rain down on the guests and everyone began to bat them around playfully.

Quinn spotted Santana and Brittany pretending to hide behind an inflated Mylar heart they held between them and stealing quick kisses every time one of them moved the balloon aside. Santana met her eyes and gave a meaningful nod in Rachel's direction. Quinn held both hands aloft with the index and middle fingers crossed for luck. She strode over to the edge of the stage and held out a hand to help Rachel descend to floor-level.

"May I have this next dance?" she asked nervously.

Rachel glanced around the room and sucked on her lower lip. She nodded her consent and placed her free hand on Quinn's shoulder.

"Finn didn't come tonight," Rachel said. "I think our talk when he gave me that bouquet left him feeling less than positive about this holiday."

Quinn nodded understandingly.

"But how do you feel?" she asked.

"Kind of... happy," Rachel confessed. "Is that bad?"

"Not at all," Quinn assured. "It means you know that you made the right decision, even if the aftermath is a little messy."

Rachel rubbed her thumb over Quinn's shoulder blade.

"I just realized we've been swaying without any music," she remarked. "There's no one behind the mics."

Quinn laughed and blushed a little.

"Yeah, that's true."

"I like it, though," Rachel hastened to add. "You know, you're the first girl I've ever slow danced with this way."

"It's an honor to be your first," Quinn said sincerely.

Now Rachel's cheeks were tinged pink as well.

They both turned as Sugar returned to the stage with her white microphone in one hand. She held a tambourine in her other fist, clutching it close to the hip where it was less likely to be noticed.

"Oh no," Rachel fretted. "She isn't about to sing, is she?"

"Since it's my party, I really wanted to treat you guys to my own musical talents," Sugar told her guests. "But it's been brought to my attention - in no uncertain terms - that those need a bit of work yet. So I invited a friend of mine to provide the vocals for this next one. Please put your hands together for the one and only Harmony Gold!"

Rachel tensed.

"I can't decide which would've been worse," she murmured. "Having Sugar damage our eardrums with her squawking or having to watch The Lady in Red steal the limelight. Why is she even here?"

"Sugar's like Brittany that way," Quinn shrugged and wrapped her arms around Rachel's waist. "She's friends with everyone, even show choir enemies. Besides, does it really matter? We beat The Unitards already. She's no longer a threat."

"A girl like Harmony is always a threat," Rachel cautioned. "But I guess her presence is harmless enough for tonight."

Sugar allowed Harmony to use her own microphone while she grabbed a stool from the back of the stage and dragged it into place. Then Sugar popped onto the seat as John, the drummer, began to play. Sugar hit her tambourine against her thigh and beamed, unable to hide her excitement. Her tapping was initially a little too eager and Harmony turned to place a hand on her knee until she softened the sound. Once Sugar had achieved a more moderate volume, Harmony focused her attention on the audience and sang.

Quinn rested her cheek against Rachel's hair and shut her eyes, scarcely able to breathe as they were finally given music to which they could dance. She could practically feel her friends watching from across the room, and it did nothing for her thudding pulse.

"Slight of hand and twist of fate

on a bed of nails, she makes me wait.

And I wait without you..."

"Hey, Rachel?" Quinn said softly.

"Mmm?"

"I have something to tell you," Quinn confessed.

"What is it?" Rachel asked.

"That song we sang to you in the courtyard on Tuesday?"

"Yeah?"

"Finn didn't request that. I did."

Rachel draped her arms around Quinn's neck.

"You bought a song for me?"

Quinn nodded.

Rachel bit her lip and averted her eyes.

"I really liked having you sing to me," she admitted. "Even if Mercedes and Sam were singing at the same time, and that choir from Mercedes's church."

"Yeah," Quinn chuckled softly. "I told the others I thought it should be big..."

"I do love being the center of attention," Rachel acknowledged.

"I know," Quinn laughed and leaned their foreheads together.

She studied Rachel's eyes, although they were slightly blurry from this close vantage point.

"Can I ask you about something else?"

"Of course," Rachel permitted.

"Finn says you told him what kind of corsage to get me last year," Quinn said. "Is that true?"

Rachel nodded.

"Yes, I did."

"Did you pick the ribbon, too?"

"Green, to match your eyes," Rachel confirmed. "The gardenia because it means 'you're lovely.' It seemed fitting."

"It also means secret love," Quinn blurted a little sooner than she'd intended.

Rachel's eyes widened and she blinked rapidly.

"Does it?"

Quinn bobbed her head in affirmation.

"My hands are tied;

My body bruised.

She's got me with nothing to win

And nothing left to lose..."

"Rachel," Quinn said again.

"Yes, Quinn?" she murmured.

"I know that I said I wanted you to have time and space," Quinn prefaced. "I said I didn't want to rush you, and I don't, but... this is killing me."

Rachel took a few strands of Quinn's short hair between her fingertips and rubbed them pensively.

"Me, too," she admitted.

"So what should we do?" Quinn asked desperately.

"We should get out of here," Rachel determined.

"Now?" Quinn verified. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Rachel took Quinn's hand tightly in hers and led the way out the back of the restaurant. They had to pass through the kitchens to reach that exit, and Quinn found herself waving apologetically to the staff as they sped toward the alley. Once they were outside, Rachel released her hand. Quinn's brow furrowed.

"Where exactly are we g-"

Rachel pulled her in by the straps of her dress and kissed her fiercely. Quinn's hands lifted in surprise, but then they settled at the small of the other girl's back and pressed her closer.

"Sorry," Rachel mumbled when they separated once more. "Too abrupt?"

Quinn shook her head adamantly. She tangled her fingers in Rachel's hair and kissed her again, causing them both to stagger sideways and slam into the brick wall. Quinn turned and used the wall for additional support as she lifted Rachel off her feet. The other girl's shoes slid off and fell onto the pavement.

Rachel whimpered into her mouth and Quinn couldn't tell if it was from pleasure or the scrape of the roughly-hewn brick against the backs of her bare calves. She gently eased Rachel down to the ground and broke away from the kiss.

They both panted for a moment as they recovered, although the flush in their cheeks did not altogether fade. Quinn reached for Rachel and held onto her waist with both hands.

"Where does this put us now?" she asked quietly.

Rachel rested her hands against Quinn's shoulders.

"I want to be with you," Rachel replied. "I don't know when the right time will be to tell everyone else, but I don't want to put it off any longer. I can't waste time I could be sharing with you just because not everyone will approve."

"We can wait for that," Quinn offered. "At least until we know for sure how we want to approach that announcement... especially with Finn."

Rachel grimaced.

"Exactly," Quinn agreed. "That will be the hardest, but being without you just to avoid that conversation is even harder."

Rachel wrapped her arms around Quinn and leaned her head against the other girl's chest. Quinn rubbed her back with one hand and stroked her hair with the other.

"How did you get here tonight?" she inquired.

"My dads dropped me off at the front door," Rachel responded.

"Can I drive you home?"

Rachel snuggled a little nearer.

"I'd like that very much."

They circled the building and Rachel waited on the sidewalk while Quinn darted back inside to grab her purse and their coats. Then they walked to the parking lot and found Quinn's car. As they climbed in on either side, Quinn leaned across the center console and stole a quick kiss on Rachel's cheek.

They buckled themselves in and left the Breadstix lot, driving along I-75 as they headed back toward Lima Heights Proper and Rachel's house on Birch Hill Road. Quinn turned on the radio to fill the silence, hoping - though it was highly unlikely - that what the station was airing could somehow distract her from the way Rachel's skin looked in the moonlight.

The pressure building inside of Quinn seemed to lend itself to giving her a lead foot, and they reached their destination in half the time. She walked around the car to let Rachel out of the passenger side and then escorted her to the front door of her two-story home.

"Thank you for driving me back," Rachel murmured as they stood under the porch light.

"My pleasure," Quinn said.

They shuffled their feet for a moment, neither quite meeting the other's gaze, until Quinn caught Rachel's arm and gently coaxed her closer for one last kiss.

"Goodnight, Quinn," Rachel whispered as she looked up at her.

"Goodnight, Rachel," Quinn murmured in return.

Then she walked back to her car, climbed in, and began to drive away. Her eyes watched Rachel in the rearview mirror until the night closed in and she faded from sight.

... ... ...

"I've got to hand it to Sugar," Santana said as she shut the door to her room. "That was a really great party."

Brittany hummed in agreement and sat down at her girlfriend's vanity so she could use the mirror on the back to help her take down her hair.

"It seemed like Quinn and Rachel enjoyed it, too," she commented while she untied her red bandana.

"Although I think they had even more fun outside of the Sugar Shack," Santana said. "They left in a pretty big hurry."

Brittany chuckled as she remembered the expression on Quinn's face when she came back for her belongings before departing for the night.

"Looks like Quinn's luck might finally turn around," Santana conjectured. "About time, really."

She stood behind Brittany and helped reach some of the bobby pins to speed up the process.

"You really liked the song?" she inquired after a moment, trying to keep her voice casual, although it came out much more uncertain.

"It was even better than I'd imagined," Brittany answered honestly. "But you wanna know something?"

"What?" Santana asked softly.

"I loved that kiss even more."

Santana bent down and nuzzled her girlfriend's neck.

"Me, too."

Brittany's hair tumbled loosely onto her shoulders as she bent over to remove her red boots. Santana sat on the edge of her bed to remove her own shoes and studied her girlfriend from afar, unable to stop herself from staring. Brittany felt Santana's gaze and looked up from what she was doing. She smiled sweetly and removed her earrings. Santana took out her own and walked over to place them on the dresser.

When she turned back around, Santana found Brittany hitching her dress up her body. She unintentionally emitted a sound of muffled surprise, which drew Brittany's attention back to her once more.

"It is Valentine's Day," Brittany pointed out bashfully. "I thought maybe you'd want to..."

"Oh, I want to," Santana blurted out unabashedly. "Give me just a sec to - oh, damn - Britt, baby, can you help me with my zipper?"

Brittany giggled at how frantically Santana was reaching behind herself, scrambling to free her body from the strapless black dress.

"C'mere," Brittany urged.

She pulled down the stubborn zipper and hungrily drank in the sight of her girlfriend's bare back before Santana turned around and straddled her.

"Tonight has been so amazing," Santana said as she brushed some of Brittany's hair away from her face. "They even cheered when you and I kissed at the restaurant. Did you hear them?"

Brittany nodded emphatically.

"See? Little by little, guys like Josh are becoming the minority," Brittany happily declared. "It might not totally turn around before we get married and stuff but I bet that, if one of our kids turns out to be gay, it won't even be a big deal by then. It's gonna keep getting better, and we're going to see it happen."

"'One of our kids?'" Santana repeated with a chuckle. "How many do you plan on us having?"

"We've gotta have at least two," Brittany said. "Otherwise the other one would get lonely."

"Two it is, then," Santana agreed and draped her arms around the other girl's neck. "I love when you talk about our wedding like it's just a natural part of our future."

"That's because it is," Brittany beamed. "I like it, and I'm gonna put a ring on it."

Santana threw her head back and laughed.

"But what if I want to get one for you?" she inquired.

"We'll go halvsies," Brittany determined. "One of us gets to buy the promise ring; the other gets to buy the engagement ring. Deal?"

She held her pinkie aloft. Santana smiled at the old, familiar gesture and wrapped her own pinkie around it.

"Deal," she concurred.

Then Santana gently eased her weight forward until Brittany dropped back onto the mattress. Brittany wriggled her fingers beneath Santana's underwear and pushed them off gradually. Santana kicked her last stitch of clothing to the floor and immediately began rolling her hips.

Brittany groaned quietly and ran her short nails along Santana's thighs. They broke apart just long enough to discard Brittany's undergarments before they wound their bodies around each other. Brittany enfolded Santana in her arms and turned them both over until she was above her girlfriend.

She grabbed Santana's left kneecap and lifted the leg until it was resting against her shoulder. Brittany pressed a series of gentle kisses to her calf and thigh. Santana shivered and bit her lip. Brittany's free hand ran up Santana's body until she was able to squeeze her breast and circle the nipple with her thumb. When her girlfriend whimpered and wriggled significantly, Brittany coaxed Santana's resting leg between both of hers She clung tightly to the skin beneath her fingertips and began to thrust, resting her cheek against Santana's leg and shutting her eyes.

Santana raked her nails along her scalp and moaned before she remembered that she needed to modify her volume since the rest of the family were in their respective rooms. They both giggled and Brittany decided to use that opportunity to switch to a different position.

She fanned Santana's legs out into a V and popped up onto her knees. Brittany eased her body down gently and began to move again. She stole occasional kisses on the upward thrusts, trying to keep Santana's mouth busy enough that any moans would be muffled and prevented from carrying through the house.

When Santana's climax arrived, it was with a sharp gasp and quavering sigh. Brittany smiled and lowered Santana's legs onto the rumpled sheets. She stretched her body languidly atop her girlfriend's and slid her tongue into Santana's mouth as they kissed.

Santana pulled back and traced her index finger along the underside of her own lower lip. She glanced down meaningfully and raised her eyebrows. Brittany knew the expression in her eyes well enough to interpret what it was that she had in mind. She climbed to the top of the bed and carefully put one leg on either side of Santana's head. Her girlfriend's hands lightly curled around the tops of her thighs as Brittany gripped the headboard in anticipation.

The first deliberate drags of Santana's tongue made Brittany lean her head against the bedroom wall and bite down on her lip. She had already been fairly close to going over, but this pace was teasing her to edge of endurance.

Santana could hear the stifled whimpers and began to lap in earnest, with her fingers pressing hard into Brittany's flesh and her full lips occasionally sucking on her girlfriend's clit. Brittany's legs clamped hard against Santana's ears repeatedly before the latter patiently eased her back down from orgasm. She licked her clean while Brittany's shaking slowly subsided.

Brittany sprawled out on the vacant side of the bed and extended her arm so that Santana could curl up beside her. While they were both still catching their breath, she trailed one fingertip lightly across Santana's back. Santana had to stifle her laughter at the tickling caress, but soon she noticed that the strokes of her girlfriend's fingers seemed to follow a pattern.

"Are you spelling on me in Spanish, Britt-Britt?" she murmured.

Brittany smiled proudly and nodded. Santana's brow furrowed as she tried to focus on the letters.

Mi futura esposa.

Santana beamed and kissed the skin over Brittany's heart. Then she whispered her reply into Brittany's ear.

"No puedo esperar a casarme contigo, mi vida."

... ... ...

Quinn and Rachel sat cross-legged on the bed in Rachel's room. Occasionally, Quinn reached out to touch the other girl's knee with one crooked finger, but that was all the contact that seemed appropriate given the heavy news that was weighing upon them.

"I'll be the first to admit that I wasn't Karofsky's biggest fan when he was at McKinley," Quinn said. "But, in all the times that I saw him bullying kids in the hallway, I never thought he would turn that hurt around on himself."

"Neither did I," Rachel agreed. "He always seemed so bull-headed. Like nothing could ever get through to him, at least not for long before he closed himself off again."

She wrapped her arms around herself.

"I can't believe that his teammates turned on him like that," Rachel mumbled. "If they've spent all this time playing football by his side and sharing a locker room, they should know by now that he isn't going to do anything to them. Just because he's gay doesn't mean that he's automatically interested in every guy that crosses his path."

"I think, ultimately, they just saw it as a weakness," Quinn concluded. "A chink in the armor that they could exploit. It's the same thing that Santana was always afraid would happen to her. If you give enough people a reason to resent you, then, the minute you stumble, they will tear you apart."

Rachel pulled her knees up close to her body and rested her chin on them.

"Do you think people would do that to me, if they knew?"

"I can't be sure," Quinn confessed. "I want to think, after Kurt and Santana, any homosexual revelations would seem like old hack to them. I want to believe that, this close to graduation, no one would give a damn. But I know I can't make that promise."

Rachel nodded and fell silent.

"I acted on impulse today," Quinn told her. "After the news that we'd heard, it just made me think, you know? It made me realize that I actually miss being a Cheerio. It isn't for the popularity or anything like that. I'd just like to see us enjoy one last victory. Even though we've been on and off that squad more times than we'd like to count, I think it'd feel good for Santana, Brittany, and me to have this closure with it. So I asked Sue to take me back, just until the end of the school year."

"What did she say?" Rachel inquired.

"She told me no," Quinn answered. "Coach says it wouldn't be fair to the girls who have had to practice all year."

She shrugged and forced a laugh.

"Maybe it was a silly idea in the first place," Quinn said. "After all, do I really want to spend my last months of high school with her yelling at me through a megaphone?"

"Ms. Sylvester might change her mind," Rachel offered, seeing in the other girl's expression that she was genuinely disappointed. "Everyone knows how good you were. If she really wants that championship, you certainly wouldn't hurt their odds."

"We'll see, I guess," Quinn told her with feeble optimism. "Did I tell you that Kurt turned up at the God Squad meeting this morning?"

"But Kurt's an atheist," Rachel protested immediately.

"Yeah." Quinn nodded. "But he was glad we were doing something to show our support for Karofsky."

She opted not to mention how Kurt had given her a very hard time for calling Karofsky's actions selfish. Kurt had bluntly told Quinn that she had no idea what it was like to be in Dave's position. It was only by reminding herself that Kurt was Rachel's best friend that Quinn was able to curb her temper and keep from shouting at him.

"Quinn?" Rachel voiced tentatively.

Quinn shook herself from her thoughts and returned her attention to Rachel.

"Yeah?"

"Would it be all right if you held me again? I've needed a hug all day."

"Same here," Quinn concurred.

She scooted closer to the other girl and held out her arms.

"You know," Quinn suggested. "Now that you and I are... are the way that we are now, you could put my arms around you when you feel like being held."

"Really?"

Quinn nodded.

Rachel took her gently by the wrists and wrapped both of Quinn's arms around her shoulders. Then she hugged Quinn in return and rested her cheek on her shoulder.

"I'm so glad that you're here with me," she mumbled.

"So am I," Quinn said. "You have no idea how much."

... ... ...

The following afternoon, Mr. Schue decided to have a sharing circle on the stage in the auditorium, with all the New Directions seated on the floor as he spoke to them. He reminded them that they were all young and had so much left to experience in life. Mr. Schuester then said he wanted them to promise that, no matter how depressed they got or how alone they felt, they would think of all the things they still hadn't had the chance to do.

"Mr. Schue, look," Mercedes said. "I know we're a little dramatic sometimes, but I don't think anyone will ever consider taking their own life."

"I did," Santana confessed.

The group turned to her in unison. Brittany reached out and held her hand.

"The night my abuelita said she never wanted to see me again," Santana explained. "There she was, the woman who had practically raised me for the first decade of my life, and she looked at me like I was a complete stranger. All I could hear in my mind was how unfeeling her voice had sounded. Then this other voice was there, you know, that one that talks inside your head. It got me thinking that maybe she was right. Maybe I was a disgrace, and nothing about me was really worth holding onto any longer. After that, I followed the way I was feeling and tried to throw myself out of the car. All I wanted was oblivion. I wanted to not have to exist, not have to deal with the emotions that felt like they might tear a hole in me from the inside out."

"What was it that stopped you?" Sugar asked timidly.

"Brittany," Santana answered and looked at her girlfriend. "She caught my hand and pulled me to safety. When I saw her face, saw how angry and afraid I had made her, it helped bring me back. I love Brittany more than anyone else on this earth and I asked myself, if the one who means the most to me sees all that worth inside, why can't I? So I've been trying really hard to do that, to see myself through her eyes so I don't lose sight of the fact that I matter. It helps make me strong."

She gave Brittany a quick kiss and rested her head on the other girl's shoulder.

Quinn's throat began to burn as she watched them. Then she clasped her hands together in her lap, took a deep breath, and spoke.

"My sister tried," Quinn told them all. "She probably would have succeeded, too, if my mom hadn't found her. I was so young back then; I didn't even know what was going on. I remember my mother saying, 'We've got to go to the hospital, Lucy. Your sister isn't feeling well. Don't tell Daddy. We wouldn't want him to worry.' She had my sister over her shoulder. Frannie's hair was covering her face, so I couldn't see. I looked back through my sister's doorway and I thought, 'Wow, she must be really sick if she had to take all those pills.'"

Quinn buried her face in her hands for a moment. When she lifted her head again, her eyes were rimmed in red.

"They must have pumped her stomach. Mom brought her back home afterward and she was completely out of it. Frannie just slept for days. Then, about a week later, she was back to normal, at least physically. I didn't know any better and figured it was a really bad virus or something and now she'd be fine. After a while, I forgot about it altogether. It wasn't until this week, seeing the fear in people's eyes when they heard about Dave, that I saw my mother's face in my mind again and I finally understood."

Rachel's lower lip trembled and she blinked rapidly. She scooted nearer to Quinn, just enough for their kneecaps to touch while the other girl finished her story.

"Once I pieced it all together, honestly, I was pissed. I know I shouldn't be thinking of myself in a situation like that but, seriously, what would that have done to my nine-year-old mind? I'm already pretty screwed up as it is. If she had left me, if she weren't alive through everything that's happened over these past three years... my parents might've had to bury two daughters."

She turned to Kurt and tried not to sound too venomous as she explained.

"So, if I seemed harsh or judgmental when I first found out, I was only speaking as someone who almost suffered that loss firsthand."

Kurt's cheeks flushed pink. He fished into the inner pocket of his black jacket and withdrew a handkerchief. Kurt got up and handed this to Quinn to dry her eyes.

"Anyway," Quinn continued shakily. "I Skyped her and we talked about it. She calmed me down. I know it's not a point she would ever reach now. Frannie's in a very different place emotionally than she was at the time. There wasn't anybody in our family who could be her rock, but now she's mine. I'm thankful for that."

"Quinn brings us to a very good point," Mr. Schuester segued. "When you're in such a dark place, it can feel like what you're going through is the end of the world. But you know what? I promise you that it isn't. I also know that, while some of you may not be in a place like that right now, there's something... everyone has something that might take them up to that edge. I want you to think instead of all the reasons you have to take a step back from that drop and keep moving forward in your lives."

He turned his head to meet each of their gazes in turn.

"I mean, just look at Santana. Look at Quinn's sister. They nearly left this world for good, but see how strong they've become? Now Quinn's sister is the one who is able to provide her with strength and wisdom when she's feeling lost. Santana is about to experience her first big audition outside of high school and, if all goes well, get herself into a really good college."

Santana's eyes widened. She hadn't realized Mr. Schue was aware of her approaching trip to Chicago.

"If they had gone through with it, if they'd succeeded, they would've missed out on everything," Mr. Schuester continued. "So right now I want you all to think of something that you're looking forward to. Big things."

Sam went first and said he wanted to buy his parents a new house so they'd never have to experience losing their home again. Artie wanted to see his kid's first steps.

"I'm sorta embarrassed to admit it," Puck told them. "But I really do wanna graduate high school."

"I'm looking forward to graduating from Columbia at the top of my class," Quinn said. "That is, if they accept me. Fingers crossed."

"I'm looking forward to the day when my grandmother loves me again," Santana divulged truthfully.

"I'd like to see my aunt kick her Ecstasy addiction," Brittany added.

Blaine, Mike, Tina, Finn, and Kurt all took their turns, and then Rachel had the floor.

"I'm looking forward to being friends with all of you for the rest of my life," she said.

Her eyes found Quinn's as she voiced the last six words and they both smiled.

"Do you know what I'm looking forward to?" Sugar asked as she bounced excitedly where she sat. "Winning at Regionals."

Everyone laughed and clapped their agreement.

... ... ...

The night of Regionals saw another full house turnout. The New Directions' competitors had a new lead this year: a student named Sebastian Smythe. The Glee kids had encountered him on more than one occasion and were familiar with his usual cut-throat tactics, but tonight saw a much more contrite and supportive side of the young man. Given that he had once bullied Karofsky himself, Sebastian felt partly responsible for how far the other boy was pushed. In an effort to make some form of apology, the Warblers took donations for Lady Gaga's Born This Way Foundation and dedicated that night's performance to Dave. Next up were the Golden Goblets, a group of madrigal singers from a Catholic high school. The talents of these two groups left the New Directions decidedly on edge, as they often were before a performance, but they still walked out into the light determined to give it their all.

They performed a number with the club as a whole first, and then it was time for the Troubletones to have their moment to shine. Puck brushed Mackenzie's hand with his fingertips as they passed each other behind the curtain in a silent wish for good luck. Quinn gave Brittany, Santana, and Mercedes a double thumbs up and winked.

The group had selected Stronger by Kelly Clarkson, and Brittany was to have her own solo section of the song. When Brittany moved to the forefront, Santana listened and could not contain her pride. Whether her girlfriend realized it or not, the Troubletones had benefitted her, too. They had helped her stop being afraid to make her voice heard, to stand out and take charge. The applause that the girls were met with at the end of their number confirmed that the Troubletones had in no way lost their edge since the last time they had been together onstage.

Following another number with all the New Directions, the performances were over and it was time for the judges to decide. Svengoobles, a late-night horror movie host, made the announcement. The Golden Goblets came in third place. Then, after a brief pause for dramatic effect, he declared the New Directions the winners.

The students all hugged each other and rejoiced as they were presented with their large, golden trophy. They were just heading back to the green room when Quinn saw Becky Jackson standing to one side backstage.

"Coach would like to speak to you," she said.

Quinn's post-win exuberance immediately diminished a little, but she tried not to let the dread sink in too deeply as she walked to Sue Sylvester's office. Much to Quinn's surprise, this impromptu visit was not to criticize the Glee Club or make jokes at a student's expense. Instead, Sue confessed that she actually admired Quinn and her tenacity, the way that she had pulled herself together again and gotten her life back. In a surprise change of heart, she presented Quinn with a Cheerios uniform in a box labeled with her name.

"You're not gonna regret this," Quinn promised. "I'm gonna win us a national championship in this uniform."

"That's what I'm counting on," Sue returned with a rare, affectionate smile.

Quinn left the office holding the box tightly against her chest. Part of her was tempted to return to the green room to find Santana and Brittany and tell them the good news, but there was one person with whom she really wanted to share this latest development.

She couldn't wait to show Rachel.

... ... ...

"I got your text," Rachel said when she arrived at the front door. "What is it that you wanted me to see?"

"Come with me," Quinn suggested cryptically.

She took Rachel by the hand and led her upstairs. Rachel looked expectantly around the room, but Quinn gently pressed down on her shoulders until the other girl sat on her bed.

"Wait here," she instructed.

Rachel nodded agreeably and clicked her heels while she clasped her hands together. Quinn departed for the bathroom and returned a few minutes later to find Rachel getting acquainted with her stuffed animal collection.

"Ahem," Quinn cleared her throat to get the other girl's attention.

"Wow," Rachel murmured as she turned and saw the uniform. "Wait, does that mean she let you back in?"

Quinn grinned and nodded.

"I'm back on the squad!" she announced happily. "How do I look?"

"Perfect," Rachel replied. "Even better than the last time you had one."

Quinn smoothed the skirt and shifted her weight from one leg to the other.

"Really? You think so?"

Rachel nodded affirmatively.

"I think it's this part swept off to the side," she decided, reaching out to touch the hair over Quinn's forehead. "It softens the look, and it suits you."

The brush of Rachel's fingertips made Quinn shiver. Rachel saw the penetrating intensity behind the other girl's eyes and it made her face grow warm.

"Kiss me," she whispered.

Quinn didn't need to be told twice. She held the back of Rachel's neck and kissed her over and over while slowly climbing onto the bed. Rachel pushed against the mattress with both arms to inch her body closer to the pillows. Quinn followed without breaking away from her lips, already breathing heavily as she swung one leg over Rachel's thighs.

Rachel adapted to this new level of intimacy without the slightest hint of hesitation. She ran her hand up Quinn's thigh until it disappeared beneath her skirt. Quinn felt that same hand squeeze her rump through the fabric and she moaned.

Unexpectedly, Rachel thrust her tongue into Quinn's mouth. Quinn's eyebrows lifted close to her hairline but she did not protest. She reciprocated this advance a little more gradually, starting by tracing just the tip of her own tongue along the inside of Rachel's upper lip.

Rachel's fingers clasped Quinn's zipper and began easing it down her body. Quinn panted and groaned but managed to convince herself to pull away.

"Rachel," she cautioned huskily. "If you take this uniform off me right now, it won't stop at just the uniform."

Rachel ran her hand along Quinn's exposed back while she considered this.

"Trust me, glad as I am to have it again, all I want is for you to rip the damn thing off my skin and throw the pieces to the floor," Quinn admitted. "But what's left of the logical portion of my brain reminds me that I want my first time with you to be special."

"I want that, too," Rachel agreed and traced one fingertip along Quinn's jawline.

"So, even though I know I'm going to hate myself for this - I already do - I think we should just enjoy kissing for a little longer before we dive straight into more than that," Quinn determined. "Is that okay?"

"It's very okay," Rachel assured.

She zipped Quinn's uniform back up and rubbed her hand along the other girl's spine.

"Would it be all right if I went back to touching your leg, though?" Rachel checked. "It's so smooth and it just feels really nice."

Quinn bit her lip and tried unsuccessfully to conceal the blush in her cheeks.

"It's all yours."

... ... ...

"It's okay to be nervous," Brittany said kindly. "Just know that this isn't the only option out there for us. I don't want you to feel more pressure than you already do."

Santana nodded and tried to breathe slowly through her nose. They were standing outside of the theatre in the building where Santana would be studying, if she earned an acceptance with that day's audition.

"It's gonna be okay," Brittany assured. "You're going to be amazing, just like always."

She gave her girlfriend a small kiss on her nose.

"Good or bad, I'll be right here waiting to give you the biggest hug ever."

Santana threw her arms around Brittany and burrowed her face in the crook of the other girl's neck.

"Thank you so much, baby," she murmured. "For helping search for monologues and songs, for driving me here. You're the best."

"Hey, you say the dream and I help build your dream, and that's what a partnership is about, right?" Brittany said.

Santana kissed Brittany's shoulder gratefully.

"I still can't get over the Wabash building," she marveled. "It's huge!"

"I know," Brittany grinned. "And so blue! It's super pretty. Speaking of pretty places, are you ready to see your stage?"

She opened the door a crack and jerked her head in the direction of the theatre's interior. Santana held her breath and approached the doorway.

"Well, it's not going to be just mine but, sure, I guess we can - Oh, my God!"

Santana stared open-mouthed at the enormous performing space with its high, arced ceiling and the warm, golden glow of the lights.

"It's beautiful," she whispered. "I could spend four years standing there?"

"Yeah," Brittany confirmed softly.

"I have to get this," Santana determined and squared her shoulders. "I've got to go in and knock this whole thing out of the park."

Her hand fluttered to her chest as the tips of her fingers touched something hidden beneath the fabric of her dress. Brittany followed the chain down and gently tugged the necklace into view.

"My brother's dog tags," Santana explained quietly. "I thought it might help to have something of his near me."

Brittany nodded.

"He'd be so proud of you, Santana," Brittany said. "Being so brave and chasing your dreams. It'd make him smile."

Santana traced Tony's name and smiled a little.

"I hope I make good on all the faith that he put in me."

"You will," Brittany told her confidently. "And, after that, we'll take our scheduled tour and get a look at those awesome dorm rooms with the giant windows."

She cupped her girlfriend's face and kissed her for luck. Then she playfully swatted Santana's backside and winked at her.

"Break a leg."

... ... ...

"So, how's your little starlet?" Alisha prompted. "How are things going with the two of you?"

"It's been so good between us," Quinn replied while she stretched out on her stomach atop the bed. "We've been spending so much time together and getting closer all the time. I'm careful not to go too far, though. I don't want to take things too fast and ruin everything."

"You're totally right to take it slow," Frannie concurred as she returned onscreen with a mug of tea in-hand. "You've been working toward this relationship for a long time, in a roundabout way. Might as well take time to appreciate the little things."

"Not that we were particularly good at following our current advice when we were your age," Alisha added. "We were one layer of clothing short of a pay-per-view when Judy walked in on us back in high school."

Frannie turned an even darker shade of red than her fiancée's hair.

"Oh, wow!" Quinn laughed as she tried to imagine that scenario. "I'm amazed that Mom didn't faint on the spot."

"She did clutch the door knob pretty tightly," Alisha remarked.

"Speaking of our mother," Frannie interjected in a strained voice. "Have you had The Big Talk with her yet?"

"Not yet," Quinn admitted reluctantly. "I know that I need to do it; I'm just nervous. Although, I don't think it'll be too bad now that she's had practice."

"We wore her down for you." Alisha winked.

"Thanks," Quinn chuckled. "I will get around to it, I promise. I just need to find the right time."

... ... ...

"Okay, guys," Brittany said at the start of the student council meeting. "As everybody heard, when we got back from Christmas Break, the guys on the rugby team... um... They tried to hurt Santana and, when I got in the way, they hurt me."

The council nodded.

"You probably also noticed that Josh Coleman is gone now," Brittany added. "They expelled him."

Brittany twiddled her thumbs when she noticed that the rest of the students were staring at her intently, no doubt hearing the slight catch in her voice as she remembered the incident.

"The thing that upsets me," Brittany told them. "Is that I kinda think, if I hadn't had those cracked ribs and bruises where everyone could see I'd been kicked, the administration would've just tried to keep it all quiet and let the whole team go right on playing for the school."

"There's always room to bend the rules when an athlete is involved," the treasurer grumbled.

"Exactly," Brittany agreed sadly. "When Finn and Puck were rolling on the floor and punching each other back when we were sophomores, no action was ever taken. They were both football players; nothing was going to happen. Then Finn starting beating Puck up in the choir room later that same school year. Puck didn't have any marks on him. As far as everyone else was concerned, it was like it had never taken place."

She picked up her favorite pen and moved it back and forth, watching the spiky ball on the top sway to and fro. Brittany sighed and pressed the pen against her chin.

"Then there was Kurt. How many times did you guys see him get tossed into a dumpster or shoved against a locker? But back then, to McKinley, he was just a scrawny gay boy who was making everybody mad by being different. Just one voice, and one that they were already used to ignoring. They didn't say a word to any of the jocks, ever. They brushed it all aside and let him keep getting pushed around until he left. It wasn't right."

The council looked somewhat guilty that they had seen all the things she described and not been equally indignant when witnessing those incidents firsthand.

"Not to mention all of the slushies," Brittany continued. "But look who was throwing them and who was getting hit. The football team versus the Glee Club that everybody wished would disband anyway. Maybe the other students didn't toss the drinks themselves but, with their silence, they were saying that they thought the club deserved it. No one was coming to help. Nobody was going to lift a finger. We were just going to have to accept it."

By now, the rest of the student council had begun to avoid eye contact. They shifted in their seats and busied themselves with their notebooks.

"I don't want anybody to have to feel uncomfortable or afraid just from having to come to school every day," Brittany said. "We're all here just trying to finish our four years, just trying to get to graduation and get that diploma. Why do we have to make it so hard for each other?"

She looked at each of them, but none of her classmates had an answer.

"So, I propose that we start talking to people," Brittany announced. "I want us all to go ask the student body about bullying they've seen, or times that they got bullied themselves. I want everybody to have a chance to share what they've been going through. Then we'll take what we've learned and write up, like, three to five new rules that we think could make a difference. After that, we start passing around petitions where the students can sign if they agree that what we came up with could help make their lives here better. If we get enough people behind us, we can present it to Principal Figgins and the rest of the adults who can make our ideas a reality."

Brittany tried to smile enthusiastically as she waited for their response. Her index finger traced the silver bracelet around her wrist to calm her nerves.

"How do we know that the administration will even listen to us?" the secretary asked as he set his notebook down on the table. "They haven't exactly shown any real concern for our welfare thus far, unless our complaints get enough attention to tarnish their image."

"They might not listen," Brittany admitted. "That's something we'll have to deal with when it comes, but we've gotta at least try. Trying is more than anyone else has done for us. I, for one, don't want to leave here feeling like I left everything exactly as it was. I wanna make sure this place is never quite the same again, that it starts to finally change for the better. Are you guys with me? All council members in favor, raise your hands."

Hesitantly, the other students began to raise their hands. As they realized that they would not be shouted down for concurring, the others added their hands as well. Brittany took in the unanimous vote and grinned.

"That settles it," Brittany declared with a single rap of her gavel. "We'll start next week."

... ... ...

"I don't feel well," Rachel groaned while they were studying in Quinn's bedroom.

She reclined on the carpet and held one hand over her stomach. Her head came to rest on Quinn's thigh as she shut her eyes. Quinn played with her hair and smiled softly.

"It's nerves," she determined. "That audition is getting closer and closer every day."

"I know that I've chosen the song I sing best," Rachel said. "Don't Rain On My Parade is my song. I also have some experience playing Sally Bowles, however briefly, before Ms. Sylvester and Sandy Ryerson cancelled the production. So I should be okay in my monologue as well... I hope."

"All you need to do is remember that you're a leading lady," Quinn told her. "A leading lady who is also learning how to be a better team player. If you go out there with all the confidence and poise you've always shown in competitions along with the gratitude and humility you've been trying to practice during our weekly meetings, you'll have the perfect blend of qualities and they're bound to love you."

Rachel's lower lip protruded as she toyed with the bottom button on her blouse.

"Hey," Quinn said in a commanding voice. "The Rachel Berry who was giving me premature gray hairs back when we were sixteen wouldn't let Hell or high water block her path to stardom. Find her back. She's still in there somewhere. Don't let that woman who'll be watching get the better of you, okay?"

Rachel reached for Quinn's hand and held onto it tightly.

"This is the beginning of the journey, not the end of the line, you understand?" Quinn asserted.

Rachel sniffled and nodded. She sat up, turned around, and pulled Quinn in for a grateful kiss.

"How did Santana's audition go?" Rachel asked, trying to change the subject. "What did she do?"

"The on-site auditions for that program are more intensive than ones with a recruiter," Quinn explained. "They had to have two songs and two monologues prepared, and they also had to participate in a dance call. Santana did Velma Kelly's monologue about the crime that character committed and then one from Gypsy, the scene where Louise finally gets to stand up to her mother. She sang I Want to Go to Hollywood from Grand Hotel and finished with Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again from The Phantom of the Opera."

Rachel's eyebrows lifted.

"Ambitious," she remarked. "Santana's voice doesn't sound like the women who are usually cast in the role of Christine."

"That's true," Quinn acknowledged. "She doesn't have that operatic quality, but Brittany overheard them talking about Santana afterward. They said they were surprised by her choice of closing number and ready to write it off at first, but then she made them believe so much in her mourning and struggle to move on from the grief that they couldn't look away."

"Wow," Rachel whispered. "That's a really big deal."

"Yeah," Quinn nodded and beamed. "She won't find out for sure until next month, but I kind of have a good feeling about it."

Rachel sucked on her lower lip and mulled this news over for a few moments.

"Well, if Santana can take such a big step out of her comfort zone and make an impression, then surely I can make myself stand out with things I already know that I do well... right?" Rachel asked.

Quinn groaned and rolled her eyes. She cupped the sides of Rachel's face and looked her directly in the eye.

"That's what I'm telling you!" she cried. "Rachel, if you believed in yourself right now even half as much as I do, you'd know that you've got this in the bag. All you have to do is put your heart and soul into it, just like you do with everything else, and it will be a performance that recruiter will never forget."

Rachel smiled tearfully and rested her forehead against Quinn's.

"You know, you make a really good girlfriend," she praised.

Quinn felt her heart skip a beat and tried to keep her voice calm.

"Is that what I am now?" Quinn inquired tentatively. "To you, I mean?"

"I guess so," Rachel realized, blinking rapidly. "We're kind of dating, huh?"

Quinn laughed and gave her a soft kiss.

"Kind of."

... ... ...

"Finally, a little bit of heat around here!" Santana rejoiced as she shed her jacket and tied it around her waist.

"Don't get too attached," Brittany cautioned and stretched out atop the picnic table behind her house. "It's only late March. We're probably not totally finished with the cold just yet."

"All I know is that it's Friday and I've got the sunshine, I've got my girlfriend, and I've got my iPod," Santana said. "So today is a good day, even if the weather gets sucky again after this."

Brittany smiled and held out her arm as she scooted over to make room for Santana beside her. They curled up next to one another and shared earbuds to listen to the music.

"I actually came across a song the other day that I had kind of forgotten about," Santana told her.

"What was it?" Brittany inquired.

Santana traced the WMHS on the front of her girlfriend's uniform. Brittany shivered with pleasure.

"Do you remember back when we were paired off to sing ballads to each other back in our first year in Glee Club?"

"Yeah," Brittany confirmed. "I sang that song to you in my bedroom and you got scared. You ran out of the house."

Santana felt her face grow warm as she nodded. Her thumb scrolled through the song selections, seeking out the one she had in mind.

"Right," she murmured. "Well, when I went home, all I really wanted was to drown out my thoughts. I was still trying to get away, even with the miles I had put between us. So I grabbed my iPod, put it on shuffle, and jammed the buds into my ears. It figures; the first song that it played reminded me of you. If I had been brave enough to sing a song back to you then, I think it would've been this one. Do you want to hear it?"

Brittany wrapped her arm around Santana's abdomen. She bobbed her head in enthusiastic confirmation.

"Will you sing with it?" she asked quietly. "For me?"

Santana met Brittany's gaze and licked her lips.

"Okay," she whispered.

She pressed play. Brittany recognized the song as a cover version of Paul McCartney's Maybe I'm Amazed. The version they were listening to now, by a singer called Jem, had been featured on a show she and Santana used to watch together called The O.C. Santana rested her head on Brittany's shoulder as she joined in with the artist and sang.

"Maybe I'm amazed at the way you love me all the time.

Maybe I'm afraid of the way I love you.

Maybe I'm amazed at the way you pulled me out of time,

And hung me on a line.

Maybe I'm amazed at the way I really need you.

Maybe I'm a girl, maybe I'm a lonely girl

Who's in the middle of something

That she doesn't really understand..."

Brittany listened contentedly while her girlfriend's voice filled the open air. She gave Santana a series of light, affectionate kisses on her exposed skin as the song continued.

"Maybe I'm amazed at the way you're with me all the time.

Maybe I'm afraid of the way I leave you.

Maybe I'm amazed at the way you help me sing my song,

Right me when I'm wrong.

Maybe I'm amazed at the way I really need you..."

Eventually, the lyrics concluded and a guitar and piano were the last things to be heard on the track. Santana closed her eyes and let the instrumental portion fill her. When the music fell silent, she heard a faint sniffling sound to her left.

"Baby, are you crying?" she asked in dismay.

"Just a little," Brittany admitted as she rubbed at the corners of her eyes with her knuckles. "I'm just really glad we made it past that time, you know? Sometimes it kinda felt like we'd be stuck that way forever, always next to each other but never actually together."

She held onto Santana's shoulder as she kissed her. Santana caressed the other girl's arm and ran the backs of her fingers along Brittany's cheekbone.

"If there's anybody that ought to be thankful, it's me," she said. "You never gave up on us, even when I gave you every reason to wash your hands of me."

Brittany rubbed their noses together and smiled.

"That's because I knew you were worth keeping," she murmured. "And pretty soon that university is going to say so, too."

"I really hope so," Santana said. "Especially now that you're already in but, then again, how could you not be? Cheerios, show choir, newspaper staff, a brief stint on the academic team, twelve years as a dancer, Motocross, your own web show, senior class president, and a history of charity work - they must've heard a chorus of angels when they read your résumé."

Brittany's cheeks flushed pink and she buried her face in the crook of Santana's neck.

"You make me sound like a superhero," she said in a muffled voice.

"Mm-hmm," Santana confirmed and tugged playfully on Brittany's earlobe with her teeth. "For graduation, I should make you a cape."

... ... ...

"Mom?" Quinn called at the top of her voice. "Mom, I'm home from school!"

She checked in their party room and the living room where the mini bar was located.

"The house is all ours," Quinn concluded.

Her eyebrow arched as she turned back to Rachel.

"Care to join me on the couch?" she suggested.

Rachel grinned and walked Quinn backward in that direction. As Quinn fell onto the cushions, Rachel climbed on top of her. Quinn parted her lips and allowed Rachel to immediately slip her tongue inside. She pressed both hands against the small of Rachel's back and sighed.

The tie on the front of Rachel's white blouse had come loose and the view it afforded kept drawing Quinn's gaze. Tentatively, Quinn slid her fingers under the material. The warm, smooth skin beneath her touch shivered upon contact. Rachel grabbed Quinn's hand through her shirt and guided it to her breast. Quinn moaned when she could feel the other girl's nipple hardening through the fabric, and she fought against the urge to roll her hips.

"You can touch me under the bra, if you want to," Rachel murmured into her mouth.

Quinn gazed at her through heavily lidded eyes until she finally shook herself and withdrew her hand.

"I'd better not, or I'll end up breaking my promise about waiting for the right time."

Rachel held onto one side of Quinn's neck and began to suck on the other.

"What if I told you that I've been thinking I don't want to wait?"

Quinn bit her lip and tilted her head back.

"You're killing me, Rachel," she groaned.

"It's getting to me, too," Rachel confided.

She spread her legs and sat atop Quinn's thigh. Quinn could feel the heat coming through Rachel's underwear and it chipped away at her resolve even more.

They heard the front door open and Quinn's heart leapt into her throat.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Quinn hissed as she disentangled her limbs from Rachel's.

They sat upright and folded their hands in their laps. Judy Fabray appeared in the doorway with an envelope in-hand. She took in the girls' mussed hair, the open front of Rachel's shirt, and the flush in her daughter's complexion. Judy's jaw dropped for a moment, but she closed it again and cleared her throat.

"Sorry, girls, I didn't mean to startle you," she apologized. "But this came in the mail for you, Quinnie."

Judy handed over the envelope. Quinn looked at Rachel and then back at the return address. It was from Columbia. Her hand trembled as she opened it and read the letter. Rachel strode over to stand beside her and held onto her shoulders.

"What did they say?" Rachel inquired quietly.

"I'm accepted," Quinn told them. "They want me."

She continued to stare at the words on the paper as Rachel shrieked excitedly and hugged her. Judy did the same and embraced them both.

"Ivy League!" Judy exclaimed.

"Ivy League!" Rachel echoed.

Quinn patted their arms and tried to process the fact that what the letter contained was real.

"It's everything you wanted, sweetie," Judy enthused.

"Almost everything," Quinn said as she slowly recovered from her shock.

Judy's brow furrowed and Rachel turned to Quinn in confusion.

"Mom," Quinn prefaced. "There's something I want to tell you."

Judy looked from one girl to the other.

"You don't have to," she offered. "I think I already-"

"No, Mom, please," Quinn protested. "I need to say it."

She reached for Rachel's hand and wove their fingers together.

"Okay," Judy consented. "Go ahead, honey."

"Rachel and I are together," Quinn said simply. "It's still pretty new, but I wanted to tell you the truth. She's so important to me, so are you, and I wanted you to be aware that she's a big part of my life now."

Judy stepped forward, held both of her daughter's shoulders, and kissed her forehead.

"I thought that might be what you were going to say," Judy told her. "Given how much time you've been spending together lately and seeing you two sitting together just now... the expressions on your faces... I knew those looks."

She gently touched Quinn's cheek.

"Don't be afraid, Quinnie," Judy said kindly. "Your sister taught me a lot about acceptance and I like to think that I've learned to roll with the punches. At the end of the day, all I want to know is that my girls have found a place for themselves in this world where they can be safe and happy. If her reaction to your good news just now is any indication, Rachel appears to have your best interests at heart. It also seems to me that this young lady standing beside you is much more capable of keeping up with you than some of the others you've brought home along the way. I'm glad to see you sharing your time with someone who has equal ambition and gumption."

"She does have that," Quinn acknowledged.

"I'll make sure that your daughter keeps chasing her dreams, Mrs. Fabray," Rachel promised. "I, of all people, understand how important it is to go after what means most to you."

Judy nodded and patted Rachel's shoulder appreciatively.

"Well, I'll let you two have your privacy back," Judy declared and began to walk through the open doorway. "Congratulations again, Quinnie, on your acceptance. You deserve it."

"Mom, wait," Quinn urged.

She darted forward and threw her arms around her mother's shoulders.

"Thank you for being so good about this," Quinn murmured.

Judy rubbed her child's back and smiled.

"I know I make more than my fair share of mistakes," she acknowledged. "But it's nice to know I have 'cool' moments from time to time."

... ... ...

The subsequent Monday brought the beginning of what Mr. Schuester decided would be Disco Week. The New Directions were far from enthusiastic about this assignment, but it grew on them a little with each performance. It helped that Coach Sylvester lended them her Plexiglas dance floor for the week to help get them in the spirit. Amazingly, she even danced to Night Fever with Will. The students attributed her inexplicable helpfulness and improved mood to her recently announced pregnancy - which, admittedly, was equally shocking.

Mercedes, Brittany, and Santana sang Disco Inferno that Tuesday. Unbeknownst to Mercedes, Sam recorded her powerful leading performance. Then, on Wednesday, Santana took the floor alone and sang If I Can't Have You to Brittany. Her girlfriend cheered her on throughout the number and dabbed at her eyes upon its conclusion. Thursday, the entire club sang More Than A Woman. It was after this that Mercedes learned of what Sam had done and rushed to tell Brittany and Santana.

"You won't believe this, you guys," she said when she found them swapping out books at their lockers. "We're on YouTube."

"What? How?" Santana asked.

"Sam recorded us in Glee Club two days ago and uploaded it to see what kind of response it would get," Mercedes explained. "It already has four hundred and eighty-five views and every single one of them commented! There was only one negative review, and that was only because the video was called Mercedes Inferno and they thought it would be a burning car."

"Four hundred and eighty-four people liked the way we sang?" Brittany clarified. "In only forty-eight hours?"

Mercedes nodded with wide eyes.

"Holy shit!" Santana marveled. "We're Internet famous! Okay, not full-blown Internet famous, but still... We're a hit!"

"A smash hit!" Mercedes agreed as a little of her diva-like confidence came shining through again for the first time that week. "The world better prepare for Mercedes Jones and her Troubletones!"

She paused and held out her hand. Brittany and Santana covered it with their own.

"Fierce, femme, and phenomenal!"

... ... ...

The sky was overcast as Santana drove by the pink and purple flowers at the entrance to Gethsemani Cemetery. She glanced at Brittany with some trepidation and found herself holding her breath as they passed between the black gates. The threatening clouds were obscured from view as they continued on beneath the verdant trees in search of her brother's gravesite. This was the first time Santana had ever driven there herself. Every visit previously had been made with her abuelita or her mother behind the wheel.

When they reached the correct section of the cemetery, Santana pulled off to the side. She and Brittany exited the car and walked hand-in-hand across the freshly-cut grass. Santana's free hand held an envelope from the Chicago College of Performing Arts.

The girls reached the crest of the hill and Santana immediately stopped walking. She stared at the headstone as though she had never seen it before that day. Somehow the reality of it always struck a fresh wound in her heart. Brittany tightened her grip on her girlfriend's palm. The inscription on the stone read:

Antonio Hernando Lopez

June 25th, 1982 - December 11th, 2005

Beloved Son and Brother

"Hi, Tony," Santana greeted softly. "Looks like you called it, didn't you?"

She held the hand that clasped Brittany's aloft. A small smile touched her lips, though it did not reach her eyes.

"We've come a long way from the gangly middle schoolers you would remember," Santana told him. "And we finally found the courage to admit what we really mean to each other. I have your letter to thank for nudging me in the right direction. Britt and I actually sang a song together for the Whitney Houston tribute in Glee Club this week. It's our second time performing a duet like that."

She sat down cross-legged on the ground and Brittany followed suit.

"I dedicated one of my audition songs to you," Santana continued. "I really want to believe that, wherever you are, you were able to hear it. I really needed you to hear it."

She sniffled and rested her head against the stone for a moment. Her eyes closed as she tried to hold back her emotion. When Santana thought she had regained sufficient control over her feelings, she sat up and cleared her throat.

"That's actually why we came to visit you," she explained. "I got this letter in the mail and I wanted to be with the two people who have loved me the most when I opened it."

Santana sighed and fidgeted a little before she held up the envelope.

"Here goes...," she muttered.

Then she eased it open and pulled out the folded paper, scanning the contents carefully. Her breath escaped her lungs in a shaky whoosh and she had to swipe at both eyes with the tip of her index finger.

"They wanna have me, Tony," Santana announced and then turned to Brittany. "They said yes, baby!"

Brittany grabbed both sides of Santana's face and kissed her passionately.

"Congratulations," Brittany said sincerely. "You made it!"

Santana nodded tearfully and turned the paper toward the stone as though to let her brother have the chance to read it for himself.

"How about that, huh?" she mused with a tiny, still-shocked chuckle. "Your tiger is going to college."

... ... ...

As her own contribution to the tribute week, Quinn decided to sing Saving All My Love. Though she did her best to keep her eyes from settling on any one person for too long, her gaze was drawn repeatedly to Rachel. It was only when she remembered that Finn was also among her audience that Quinn was able to tear herself away and turn to someone else.

When her performance was finished and class was dismissed, Santana and Brittany followed Quinn out into the hall.

"Could you be any more obvious?" Santana teased.

"What do you mean?" Quinn asked innocently.

"I've been rehearsing with Rachel to sing So Emotional later this week and even I haven't looked at her as often as you did in that number," Santana commented. "Not to mention the completely blatant eye fucking between the two of you when you got to the part about 'making love the whole night through.'"

Quinn blushed and glanced at her other friend. Brittany nodded subtly to confirm that this exchange had been pretty clear to see.

"So have you?" Santana inquired.

"Have I what?"

"Gone bumper-to-bumper," Santana clarified with a roll of her eyes. "There's literally no obstacle in your way now. Hulking caveman boyfriend gone? Check. Parental approval of the relationship? Check. Well, half-check until Beaky breaks the news to Daddy Squared. Obvious returned interest from your sweater-loving sweetheart? Frickin' check with a shining star on top. So what exactly is the goddamn hold up?"

"Santana, look," Quinn explained. "Every other time I've had sex, it was spurt of the moment and I regretted it. Some on a grander scale than others, obviously, but that's the common thread. I've never had sex that I just enjoyed and could look back on and be happy with the way that it went. Hell, I can't even completely remember the night that I was with you."

"Good thing, for Berry's sake," Santana joked. "She'd never compare."

Brittany guffawed at her girlfriend's smug expression while Quinn shook her head.

"When you're quite through trumpeting about your sexual prowess," Quinn grumbled. "A little understanding would be appreciated. I'm just trying to make sure this time with Rachel is when I finally get it right. Is that so terrible?"

"No, it isn't," Brittany said while she put a hand on Santana's arm to quiet her. "You really care about her, don't you?"

"Yeah," Quinn admitted softly. "More than I ever have for anyone."

... ... ...

Shannon Beiste was known around McKinley for being a good-hearted but tough woman, and an even more fearsome coach. So, when she arrived at school with a particularly dark bruise under her left eye, it was generally assumed that whoever had given it to her must be much worse for wear. Quinn had heard brief mentions of this injury in conversation, but it wasn't until the transition between third and fourth period that she finally saw it in person. What troubled her more was the flicker of hurt in Coach Beiste's eyes as she avoided looking directly at any of the passing students.

Quinn detached herself from the crowd and turned around to walk back the other way, following the coach until she took a left turn heading for the teachers' lounge.

"Coach Beiste, er, uh, Mrs. Menkins?" Quinn called out hesitantly. "Could I speak to you?"

"Sure thing, pumpkin," Shannon permitted. "What is it?"

"Not here," Quinn said. "Maybe in there?"

She nodded toward the teachers' lounge. Shannon stepped through the doorway and stood near the coffee machine while Quinn followed. Quinn cast a sideways glance at the other teachers eating their lunches before she spoke in an undertone.

"Are you in trouble?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing," Coach Beiste joked. "What's got you so antsy?"

"Your eye," Quinn told her. "How did you get that bruise?"

"I was hitting a speed bag, but my timing was off and it came back and clocked me," Shannon said simply. "What, you think I got hit?"

"Yeah, I do," Quinn said with more certainty than she had been feeling a moment ago. "And by someone you should be able to trust."

"I don't know where you got such a notion in your head," Coach Beiste laughed. "But nobody's to blame for this shiner, 'cept maybe me for gettin' a little too excited while I exercised."

"You don't have to feel ashamed," Quinn murmured. "You've done nothing wrong."

"Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do here, but it's not really any of your business," Coach Beiste said. "Don't let it worry you. I'm fine, really."

"I'm sorry," Quinn responded contritely. "I know I'm way out of bounds with all of this. It's just that I've seen the look on your face before. My mom would try to hold her head high at those neighborhood parties she hosted and turn the furniture so they couldn't see the chunk missing from when my father flipped over the table. She had to find a photograph to hang in the front foyer to cover the hole Dad hit in the wall, but what she really wanted to hide from those work wives was what he had almost done to her. That punch was only three inches from her face. He was just sober enough to redirect it at the last moment, but the end result was essentially the same even without a bruise to prove it. Mom jumped at every noise for a week and wouldn't look at anyone directly."

Shannon stood blinking for a moment with her mouth slightly agape and her eyes full of sympathy.

"I had no idea," she muttered softly.

"Exactly," Quinn replied. "Most times, nobody does except for the ones who experience it personally. If I'm wrong about your case, I apologize, I really do. I just wanted to let you know there are people who understand. That's more than my mom had."

Then Quinn departed from the teachers' lounge and left Coach Beiste to consider what she'd said.

... ... ...

"Puck?" Santana marveled when she opened the door to a foreign knock. "What are you doing here?"

"Hey," Puck greeted embarrassedly and crammed his hands into his pockets. "Sorry for showing up like this, I just... Can we talk?"

"Um, sure," Santana said. "Here, come in."

She gestured to the sitting room and Puck walked inside to sit on the couch. Santana sat on the opposite end and angled her body toward him.

"What happened?" she asked. "You haven't come around since before Britt and I became official, so I know something's gotta be wrong now."

"Sort of," Puck admitted. "I don't know. Maybe not wrong so much as just crappy. A new level of crappy compared to Lima's usual standards."

"Spill it, Puckerman," Santana commanded. "You're doing that thing where you rub your Mohawk so many times that hairs start to fall out."

Puck glanced at the small hairs now stuck to his palm and wiped them off on his jeans.

"My dad turned up at one of my pool cleaning jobs."

Santana's eyes widened.

"So Deadbeat Douchebag returns," she remarked. "What did he want from you?"

"What else?" Puck grumbled bitterly. "Money."

"That rat bastard," Santana fumed. "He's got some nerve, after how hard your mom has worked to support you and Sarah."

"No kidding," Puck laughed humorlessly.

"You didn't give it to him, did you?" Santana demanded.

"Five hundred bucks."

"Why did you do that, dumb shit?" Santana cried and hit the boy's kneecap with the back of her hand. "He doesn't deserve a dime from any of you!"

"I know but, now that I gave it to him, I'll never have to see him again," Puck explained. "I just wanted him gone."

Santana sighed and reluctantly nodded.

"All right. That I get."

"There's just one problem," Puck added.

"Only one?" Santana joked dryly.

"That was most of my California fund to take my pool cleaning business out west."

Santana's expression softened.

"I'm sorry, Noah," she said sincerely. "I know you really wanted out of here."

Puck rested his forehead on his hands.

"Now the only hope I've got is to at least earn my diploma so I can get some kind of job after this is over," he lamented. "Which we both know means I'm screwed, and not in the way I like to be."

"Do you want my help?" Santana offered. "I mean, I can't dig into the money I've got set aside for after graduation 'cause Britt-Britt and I need it, but I'm sure I've got some account somewhere I could tap."

"No, no," Puck protested and held up a hand. "I can't take your money, Santana. I've gotta fix this on my own. I just needed to talk."

"Why me?" Santana asked quietly.

Puck shrugged.

"I was gonna tell Finn first, but he didn't answer his phone. Then I thought about you and how you've known me through pretty much the whole saga of that jerk-off's epic failure. I figured you'd get it and be just as pissed as I was. Is it weird for me to be here?"

"Kinda," Santana answered honestly. "But I'm glad you are. You offered to be my friend and look out for me. It's only fair that I return the favor when you need it."

"Thanks," Puck murmured. "I think maybe I've kinda missed being able to talk to you. Y'know, the kind that didn't end in you yelling at me for getting with another girl or telling me I was an asshole."

Santana chuckled.

"Yeah, the talks were good. It was the fidelity that was somewhat lacking."

Puck laughed and nodded. He rose from his seat and walked toward the door. Santana followed and stepped closer, hugging him around the middle.

"Hang in there, okay?" she urged. "You may be a world class screw-up, but you are a thousand times better than the guy that contributed half of your DNA, understand? Don't let that mooch ruin your dream. If you don't want to be a Lima Loser, then you won't be."

Puck sniffled and rubbed the back of his neck.

"I'll try to keep that in mind."

He put his hands into his pockets again and shuffled along the front walkway to his truck.

"Puck!" Santana called as the boy climbed back into the driver's side.

He turned and shielded his eyes against the sun.

"I believe in you," Santana told him.

He smiled genuinely. Puck covered his eyes with his sunglasses and made a double-click sound through his teeth as he pointed in her direction.

"Right back at ya."

... ... ...

Quinn was about to get in line for lunch when she heard someone call her name. She looked over her shoulder and found Coach Beiste standing in the doorway to the cafeteria. Without hesitation, Quinn walked into the hallway to hear what she had to say.

"I'd like to speak to you in my office," Coach Beiste said in the most formal voice she could muster, hoping any possible eavesdroppers would dismiss this as a disciplinary matter.

"Okay," Quinn consented.

She followed the coach to a cramped place adjacent to the locker rooms. There was only space enough for a desk, two chairs, and a few plaques on the wall. Quinn settled onto the slightly uncomfortable chair nearest to the door and waited for Coach Beiste to take her place in the one behind the desk.

Shannon shut the door and sat down in the vacant seat. She pressed her palms flat against the desk and took a deep breath.

"I gave a lot of thought to what you said," Shannon admitted. "In the teachers' lounge the other day. I think maybe you hit the nail right on the head, hon. I was embarrassed. I didn't think anybody would get what I was going through."

The rims of her eyelids turned bright pink as she fought off tears.

"My husband hit me," Coach Beiste confessed defeatedly. "When you said that thing about your daddy getting mad when he drank, it hit me right here 'cause that's the same thing that happened with Cooter."

She rubbed impatiently at her eyes with the backs of her palms before searching the desk for tissues. Quinn reached into her purse and pulled out a small pack of them. She passed the whole thing across the desk to Coach Beiste, who nodded her thanks.

"All over a sink full of dirty dishes," Coach Beiste explained. "When he was so sorry afterward and he cried and begged me to forgive him, I told myself it was a one-time thing and that I shouldn't make a big deal out of it. The thing is, it ain't a fluke, and a part of me knows it. He hasn't hit me again since, but that anger is still there, just waiting."

Shannon paused to blow her nose.

"My mind kept going back to your poor mama, afraid to say boo to anybody and not bein' able to keep still 'cause she was so afraid of every little thing. I started to see that I was getting the same way, too. Always apologizing for myself and making a fuss any time I thought he was about to go off on me again."

Quinn nodded and listened intently.

"Your little talk the other day gave me the courage to tell someone else about what was going on," Coach Beiste said. "I went and talked to your cheerleading coach. She told me I should get out of there right away, even said I could stay at her place, but I've just been so scared."

"For once, Ms. Sylvester is actually right," Quinn replied. "Why have you been afraid? Do you think he'll come after you if you try to leave?"

"It's not that," Shannon wept miserably. "I don't think anybody else is ever gonna love me."

"That's the thing," Quinn told her. "If he's treating you the way that you've told me, he doesn't really love you. At least, not in the way that you deserve. It's a half-love, something to cling to so he feels like there's someone to drag through this with him. That's no way for anyone to live, especially not a woman with a heart as big as yours. You need to separate yourself from him."

Coach Beiste wiped her eyes again and crumpled the tissue in her trembling fist.

"I know it," she confessed. "But I'm just not sure I've got that kind of strength."

Quinn thought it over for a moment.

"I have an idea," she declared at last. "Would you be willing to do something for me?"

"I could try." Shannon shrugged.

"Come to the choir room after school," Quinn said. "The Glee girls and I will have something for you."

... ... ...

"Santana!" Brittany shouted from the other end of the hall.

Santana looked up from where she had been stuffing a few loose papers back into one of her folders and smiled. Brittany jogged through the passing students and came to a halt in front of her.

"Guess what? Guess what? Guess what?" Brittany chirped eagerly while she bounced up and down where she stood.

"You got back into that stash of Pixy Stix left over from your campaign?" Santana jested.

"No, silly, I traded those with Becky Jackson weeks ago for one of those cute Easter chicks that peeps when it sits on your hand," Brittany said. "This is better."

"What is it?" Santana asked, getting caught up in her girlfriend's enthusiasm.

"The board approved the student council's new anti-bullying rules!" Brittany cried happily.

"You're kidding!" Santana gaped. "The signatures worked? When will they start using them?"

"They go into effect at the start of the 2012-2013 school year," Brittany boasted proudly. "I know we won't be here to see it, but this is going to make things so much better for the new kids coming in!"

"It's exactly the kind of legacy you wanted to leave behind," Santana said with a broad grin.

"Exactly!" Brittany agreed.

Santana held both sides of her shining, smiling face and kissed her tenderly.

"I am so, so proud of you, baby," she said earnestly. "McKinley is notorious for its bad judgment, but it made its first good decision making you the president. If they learn even an ounce of all the goodness you have inside of you, this school will be a much better place for it."

... ... ...

That afternoon, Coach Beiste came to the choir room as Quinn requested. Rachel had last minute audition preparations to make and Sugar had an appointment right after dismissal, but the rest of the Glee girls were all in attendance. They lined up their stools in the middle of the room and provided a chair on which the coach could sit while they performed. Then Mercedes, Santana, and Tina alternated lead vocals and harmonized with Brittany and Quinn for each chorus of Shake It Out by Florence + The Machine. Shannon listened with tears glistening in her eyes and thanked them all very sincerely when the song was finished. Then she left the room before any of the girls could see how overcome she was by the unexpected gesture.

The following morning, Quinn and the rest of the female New Directions members were summoned back to the choir room. Coach Beiste was waiting for them there and asked that they all sit along the risers while she spoke to them. Once they were settled, Shannon went back to the chair she had occupied the day before and clasped her hands in front of her. Everyone else in the room remained utterly silent and waited for what she needed to impart.

"Nobody tells you what you're supposed to do when something like this happens," Shannon said. "I was shocked; I was ashamed. So I made excuses for myself, to make it okay. I genuinely believed that my husband would never do a thing to hurt me, but I was wrong. Most of the time, he's a fun-loving and lovable guy, a big teddy bear, but nobody knows what goes on behind closed doors."

"Are you considering pressing charges?" Tina asked softly.

"Yeah," Shannon admitted. "And more than that, I got out of there, and I moved in with my sister, and that feels really good. But you girls? You not only opened my eyes to this... you maybe even saved my life."

Her eyes found Quinn in particular.

"Thank you," Shannon said quietly.

Without a word, the Glee girls rose and walked to where the coach sat. They gathered around her chair and gave her a supportive group hug. It was a confusing tangle of arms and a couple of them accidentally bumped their heads as they closed in, but it was worth it to see the first real smile that had been on Coach Beiste's face in days.
... ... ...

Friday marked the arrival of the NYADA recruiter and the official day for Kurt's and Rachel's big auditions. Kurt turned in an impressive rendition of Not the Boy Next Door from The Boy From Oz. While he was delivering his monologue, Rachel went to the green room to prepare herself. Quinn was already there waiting.

"You've got this," Quinn assured positively as she held her girlfriend's hands.

"I know," Rachel said with a small glimmer of confidence.

"Any pre-audition jitters?" Quinn inquired.

"I'm strangely calm," Rachel realized.

"That's good," Quinn beamed. "Let's get you out there. She'll be calling you any minute."

Quinn waited in the shadows behind the curtain while Rachel walked out to center stage. If she stood at just the right spot, Quinn could faintly discern where Carmen Tibideaux was watching from the house. The woman had a very severe reputation, and her bearing and demeanor backed up the claims before she had even spoken a word. She had recently been named Dean of Vocal Performance and Song Interpretation at the university and was now hand-picking her inaugural class. Even if Rachel claimed to feel no fear anymore, the pressure was most certainly on today.

Rachel began her audition flawlessly. Quinn was listening to every word with one fist closed over her heart, trying her best to contain the overflow of immense pride. Then something terrible happened. Rachel accidentally repeated a line of the song where it did not belong, and suddenly her unshakable onstage security was shattered. She tried to make a recovery by asking the band to play her in a second time and start from the beginning, but the damage had been done. This time she didn't even make it to the second line without flubbing up once more. Rachel begged for a third chance, but Carmen Tibideaux refused.

"You get eight bars," she said. "I gave you sixteen. Do you know what happens when you forget the words on Broadway? They give the job to your understudy. I'm very sorry, but this audition is over."

Rachel begged and pleaded, clutching the sides of her own face and sobbing openly. Still, Madam Tibideaux rose without any indication that she heard, shutting off the lights as she departed. Quinn went from crestfallen on Rachel's behalf to instantly furious. She ran out from behind the curtains, jumped over all the steps to land heavily on the ground, and ran out of the auditorium.

"Madam Tibideaux!" Quinn called. "Ms. Tibideaux, please wait!"

The woman turned around slowly and arched her eyebrows expectantly.

"I was only summoned for two auditions today," she said. "If you're after your own chance to win a spot, it will have to wait until a later date."

"It's not about me," Quinn panted. "It's about that beautiful and talented girl that you just left behind in the dark."

"The one who botched the lyrics to a famous song from what she claimed was her favorite musical," Madam Tibideaux drawled.

"It is," Quinn asserted. "Rachel loves musicals the way that Billy Elliot loved to dance, okay? This is her life. It is her reason for existing; it is why she gets up in the morning. I have never met anyone with the kind of passion and drive that she displays every single day. If she threw her chances back there, it is only because she holds you in such very high esteem and knew of the critical ear that you possess. The minute she heard that hiccup, knew that she hadn't presented you with the absolute perfection she knew you would expect, she lost her nerve. Believe me, that is really saying something because ordinarily Rachel would steamroller that song and eat it for breakfast."

"Broadway does not suffer nervous would-be starlets who lose their minds upon hearing who will be in their audience," Madam Tibideaux said. "If every diva succumbed to stage fright, this art form would have died out decades ago."

"Well then, it's a good thing this isn't Broadway," Quinn fired back heatedly. "This is the auditorium of a middle-of-nowhere Ohio high school. It is not the place you would ordinarily expect to find a once-in-a-generation voice like that, but I know that you must have heard it. Even before the mistake, you'd have heard the power her voice holds. I know for a fact that the next direct flight back to New York doesn't leave until seven-thirty this evening. What would it hurt for you to use a few minutes of that time to give her another chance, just to find out for yourself what she's really capable of, when she has her composure?"

"You will find, young lady, that real life does not afford those kinds of second chances," Madam Tibideaux declared coldly. "Let this be a lesson to your friend. Maybe, in the future, if she is ever given another opportunity of this magnitude, she won't allow it to slip through her fingers."

Quinn's jaw clenched and she nodded.

"It's so easy to lose sight of what it was like to be on the bottom when you've risen all the way to the top," she said sadly. "If that's the way you've chosen to handle this, then all I have left to say is that I feel sorry for you. Someday she will see her dream realized, and maybe then you'll rue the fact that you didn't take the chance and discover her first. Have a good flight, Ms. Tibideaux."

She turned on her heel and went back into the auditorium. Rachel was gone. It was only after speaking with Blaine and Kurt that Quinn was able to learn the other girl had locked herself in the green room. Quinn went to the door and rapped on it with her knuckles.

"Go away," Rachel sobbed.

"It's Quinn."

"I don't think I can face anyone right now," Rachel called back. "I can't even look at myself in the mirror which is really hard because I'm quite literally surrounded by reflections in here."

"Please let me in," Quinn supplicated. "I'll wait outside this door all night if I have to. I'm not leaving you alone with this."

There was a faint, shuffling sound behind the door before the lock turned and it opened just a crack. Quinn came in to find Rachel sitting on the floor with her arms wrapped around her legs.

"I tried to get her to come back for you," Quinn said apologetically.

"I know," Rachel acknowledged. "But she was right not to. Her inaugural class deserves better than a failure like me."

Quinn dropped to her knees and tilted Rachel's chin up so they were eye-to-eye.

"Don't talk like that," she told her. "Not ever. This could have happened to anyone. It does not make you any less talented or any less deserving of the life you've dreamed."

"Having the lights turned out on you would suggest otherwise."

"Maybe it won't be NYADA," Quinn conceded reluctantly. "But it will be somewhere. There are other schools; there are other chances. We could get you in for the spring semester at a university, or try again the next autumn. I could ask them to defer my place at Columbia and we can start together..."

"No," Rachel urgently protested. "Don't you dare put your own dream at risk for my sake."

"Rachel," Quinn said. "The biggest part of that dream was to be near you. Why do you think, out of all the Ivy League schools, that one was the most preferable? I don't want to set one foot on that journey until you're walking beside me."

"But we weren't dating when you applied to that university," Rachel pointed out feebly. "Why make such a major life decision based on how close it would keep you to me? Why take that kind of gamble?"

"Because I love you!" Quinn cried exasperatedly.

Rachel blinked rapidly while the rest of her body froze. Then her brow furrowed and she licked her lips as she tried to form a response.

"You do?" she whispered.

"Yes, damn it."

Quinn sat down on the carpet and propped her chin on her palms. Rachel leaned forward onto her knees and crawled nearer. She eased Quinn's legs apart and lowered the other girl's hands from her face.

"I love you, too."

Then she scooted her body between Quinn's calves, holding onto her girlfriend's kneecaps for leverage, and kissed her softly. Quinn returned the kiss and wove her fingers into Rachel's hair.

"Promise me that you won't give up on yourself," Quinn pleaded. "Promise that you'll let me help you find a back-up plan. Just give me the chance to put you back on track. I will get you to New York if I have to carry you there myself."

"I promise," Rachel agreed and kissed her again. "After all, what kind of star would I be if I let down my biggest fan?"

... ... ...

Brittany sat on the end of her bed, stroking Lord Tubbington's back pensively while she studied the bed's other occupant. Santana was still sound asleep, taking advantage of an uneventful Saturday to catch up on some much-needed rest. The early afternoon sunlight fell softly on her bare back and painted it in hues of orange and golden yellow. The warmth from this light made Santana stretch languidly beneath the sheets and moan faintly. Brittany bit her lip and resisted the urge to touch her girlfriend's exposed leg, lest she wake her and spoil a good dream.

However, the temptation to be closer to her proved too great. Since Santana had rolled over onto her side of the bed, Brittany occupied Santana's usual space and wrapped her arm around the other girl's abdomen. She buried her face in Santana's hair and ran one palm along her hip and thigh.

"Mmm," Santana murmured. "I'd wake up a lot faster on weekdays if I had your fingers instead of an alarm."

"I thought about it," Brittany said. "But then I realized we'd be late every day 'cause of what we'd want to do once you were awake."

"You do have a point there," Santana admitted.

She turned over and pulled Brittany closer, smiling as she stole a quick kiss.

"So what have you been doing while I slept the morning away, Miss Early Bird?" Santana inquired.

"Applying for scholarships," Brittany answered. "I'm gonna need lots of money for Roosevelt."

"Hopefully all the relatives are feeling especially giving at your graduation party," Santana said. "We could use all the help we can get. I've been sorting through all of my old stuff, finding what isn't coming with me to Chicago, and putting it up for sale on Amazon and Ebay."

"Any takers?" Brittany asked optimistically.

"A few," Santana confirmed. "Mostly for the jewelry."

"That's a start," Brittany smiled.

"A very little one," Santana fretted. "I mean, I know my parents said they'd cover whatever I can't and I can pay them back after I get out of college, but I don't want to start my adult life with all that debt."

"It kinda seems like that's how it ends up for everybody," Brittany pouted. "No career yet and they've already gotta pay people."

"Ugh," Santana groaned. "All this money talk is twisting my stomach in knots. Why don't we talk about something happier for a while? Something to look forward to."

"Well, there's Senior Skip Day next week," Brittany offered. "That should be pretty good."

"Yeah," Santana concurred, brightening a little. "I think I could use some mischief before I have to become a mature, functional adult."

"Hear, hear!" Brittany cheered and wrapped her body around her girlfriend while she nuzzled her neck. "How about we start with a little rule breaking right now?"

Santana's hips wriggled and she bit her lip.

"I like the way you think..."

... ... ...

Traditionally, at the beginning of May, those in their final year at McKinley observed Senior Skip Day. The New Directions decided that they wanted to share that experience with each other and that they would all vote on the destination for their day of playing hookie. Quinn suggested Kings Island. It would take around two hours to get there, depending on the traffic, but the amusement park had rides, games, and food. Everyone agreed and their schedule was set.

They got up bright and early on that Monday and met on the edge of Faurot Park. Everyone teamed up for carpool and followed one another on the long drive to Mason, Ohio. Much to Finn's obvious disappointment, Rachel invited Quinn, Santana, and Brittany to climb into the vacant seats of her car. Brittany and Santana politely tolerated the show tunes blaring into their ears in the backseat while Rachel chattered away to Quinn in the front of the car. Though their feelings toward their driver were lukewarm at best, they were glad to see their best friend so obviously and completely happy.

Kings Island was bordered by a remarkable number of newly green trees and had a large fountain within view of its entrance gate. Once they had paid, the club consulted a map and decided to meet outside the Skyline Chili in time for lunch. Then everyone disbanded and ran off in their own separate directions. Rachel took Quinn by the hand and made an immediate beeline for Delirium, which had a yellow star right at its center.

As was often the case at parks this popular, the lines took ages to move forward. However, Quinn hardly took notice since she talked to Rachel all the while. She learned over the next hour that Rachel had a habit of closing her eyes once a ride left the ground. It became Quinn's favorite pastime trying to goad Rachel into peeking at least once while they were mid-air, mostly just to hear her giddy babbling and giggles once her eyes clamped shut again.

"Why don't we take a break from rides for a while?" Rachel suggested after they got off the Vortex.

"Want to see the Eiffel Tower with me?" Quinn asked.

Rachel blinked confusedly until her girlfriend nodded toward the park's replica that could be seen in the distance. Then she put her hand in Quinn's and grinned.

"Mais oui, ma belle fille!" Rachel giggled.

They ran to the tower hand in hand and took the elevator to the top. When they walked to the railing and looked out over the park, Quinn wrapped her arm around Rachel's waist.

"Wow," Rachel breathed. "You can see everything from up here!"

"Mm-hmm," Quinn concurred. "And the even better thing is that the people down there can't see us."

"Why is that?" Rachel asked perplexedly.

Quinn grabbed Rachel's hips and tugged her closer. She cupped the back of Rachel's neck and kissed her. Rachel ignored the other park visitors who were milling about up on the tower and kissed Quinn back. Quinn's lips parted and Rachel slipped her tongue past them. Then she sensed that a few of the Kings Island patrons nearby were side-eyeing them and she withdrew.

"Do you know what I want to do next?" Rachel asked as she held Quinn's hands and swayed back and forth.

"What?" Quinn asked breathlessly.

"I want to play some carnival games," Rachel said with a broad grin. "Can we try to win some stuffed animals?"

Quinn laughed at how far this idea was from what she had been contemplating. Then she nodded and gave Rachel's hands an extra squeeze.

"I'll win you anything you want," she promised.

Rachel held Quinn to her word. In fact, before their game-playing excursion was over, they had to swing by the souvenir shop to buy a bag just to hold them all. Quinn's wallet was significantly lighter, but she didn't care in the slightest after all the hugs she had received for her efforts.

They ran into Santana and Brittany beside a water pistol competition booth. Santana and Quinn squared off for the prize. Brittany slapped Santana's butt encouragingly before the bell sounded, and Rachel hopped up and down excitedly when Quinn's marker was clearly gaining a good head start. Ultimately, they played two rounds of this particular game; one to win a tiger for Brittany and one get a lion for Rachel.

Soon lunchtime arrived and everyone made their way to the restaurant. Rachel got plain spaghetti with no chili or cheese and made up the difference by commandeering the complementary oyster crackers. Quinn was sitting with her cheek propped on her hand. Her eyes were trained on Rachel's pursed lips as she sucked in a particularly long spaghetti noodle. Then she looked beyond that and noticed that Finn was watching, too. Quinn couldn't decide if it was in her mind or not but, for a moment, she thought that there was a flicker of comprehension in the boy's eyes as he studied her and Rachel together. However, Puck let out a particularly magnificent belch and Finn's concentration was broken.

The Glee kids stayed at the park until the sun set and the bright, rainbow-colored lights came on inside the park's fountain. They walked slowly toward the exit with aching feet, although Brittany and Santana found enough energy inside themselves to dance in the multi-colored glow, stumbling and laughing in the gathering dark.

Their ride home was filled with a happy exchange of stories as the two couples shared their Senior Skip Day adventures. All of Rachel's stuffed animals had been crammed into the trunk, albeit with some difficulty - it had taken Santana hopping onto the lid to finally force it closed. Brittany was hugging her tiger in her lap and occasionally pretending that it was licking Santana's cheek.

"See you guys tomorrow!" Rachel called to Brittany and Santana when they arrived back at Faurot Park.

She turned in her seat and faced Quinn.

"This was really nice," Rachel sighed. "Getting away from everything for a day, especially since I got to share it with you."

"I had a really good time, too," Quinn agreed. "I guess the next time we'll all be together like that outside of class is prom, huh?"

Rachel smiled softly.

"I guess so," she murmured.

"Hey, Rachel?"

"Yes, Quinn?"

"I know that we haven't made ourselves public officially at school, and we don't have to make a big show of it or anything, but will you go to prom with me?" Quinn asked. "Please?"

Rachel unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned over to steal a quick kiss.

"It would be an honor."

... ... ...

"So, what exactly inspired your dinosaur prom theme?" Santana asked with a chuckle as she and Brittany paged through dress magazines on Brittany's bed.

"Artie and Mike, actually," Brittany smiled. "I overheard them geeking out about this Jurassic Park marathon that was on TV last weekend. They were both talking so fast and they got so excited just remembering. It was like watching two little kids. I really wanted our last prom to be like that, one last chance to just have fun and feel like a kid again before the world tells us we have to start being adults. What better way to do that than with dinosaurs?"

Santana dog-eared a few favorite options and moved on to the next magazine in the stack.

"How did the rest of the council take to the concept?" she inquired.

"I'm pretty sure they thought I was crazy at first," Brittany said. "I haven't seen that many people look at me like I hit my head since we were in Mrs. Hagberg's class before she retired. Once I explained why I wanted it, though, I won them over."

"My girlfriend, the genius politician," Santana beamed and kissed Brittany's shoulder. "Speaking of politics, I've been thinking about prom court a lot lately. I don't want to run for queen unless you're going on the ballot with me. I mean, you have every right to say it's a crazy idea and we're going to get our asses kicked, I'd totally understand that after everything that's happened. I just was wondering, if it wouldn't be too much of a risk, maybe-"

"Santana," Brittany interjected before her girlfriend could stammer any further. "I'd be happy to be your king."

Santana blinked slowly before a smile began to spread across her face.

"You would?"

Brittany nodded.

"I'll even get a dinner jacket and a bowtie," she said. "Maybe a tiny hat."

"You're going to look dapper as hell," Santana giggled.

She rested her head on Brittany's lap and pulled the other girl's arm over to drape across her abdomen.

"Don't forget," Brittany teased. "You still owe me that dance."

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that," Santana told her as she reached up to trail one fingertip along Brittany's jawline. "From now on, baby, all of the dances are yours."

... ... ...

Quinn climbed out of her car at seven-thirty on the dot. She felt a little strange walking in tennis shoes while wearing her prom dress, but it was necessary to wear practical shoes at least while behind the wheel. Quinn strode up to the Berrys' front door and rang the bell. She heard it echo through the house before Hiram invited her inside.

"You're looking stunning, my dear," he praised and offered a hand to help her over the threshold. "Very regal in that purple gown. It suits you since, from what our Rachelah tells us, you're running for Prom Queen."

"Yeah, I am," Quinn confirmed.

They entered the living room where LeRoy was lounging comfortably with a glass of wine. He tapped his wrist with his free hand in a form of applause for her wardrobe selection.

"Positively exquisite," LeRoy praised.

"Have a seat, Ms. Fabray," Hiram offered. "Rachel should be ready any minute now."

Quinn slowly lowered herself onto a vacant armchair and crossed her legs at the ankle.

"So, Rachel says you've been helping her explore other avenues to her dream ever since the terrible incident with the NYADA recruiter," LeRoy said. "Have you girls had any luck in your search?"

"We've sent out applications to every place we could find that might give her a leg up," Quinn replied. "Purchase College, a two-year musical theatre conservatory at the New York Film Academy, The New York Conservatory for Dramatic Arts, even summer workshops. If we can just find anything to get her foot in the door and give her a chance to start making connections, it'll be worth it."

"Wise words," LeRoy concurred.

"As always, in show biz, it's not only about what you know but also who you know," Hiram added. "One chance meeting can breathe life into a struggling career."

"That's what I've been telling her." Quinn nodded fervently. "She was so convinced that Madam Tibideaux's word was the final verdict. It's taken everything I have to try to bring Rachel's old determination back to life. I think that's what killed me the most, seeing that audition break her spirit."

"Lucky for her, she had a good friend like you around to build her back up again," LeRoy said.

Quinn gave them both a small smile, fighting against the urge to discuss the use of the word 'friend.' She smoothed the bottom of her dress and tried to keep her expression neutral.

"Rachel, sweetheart, your ride is here!" Hiram called up the staircase. "Are you almost ready?"

"I'm on my way down now!" Rachel replied. "Just a minute!"

They could hear her bustling about her room as she made last-minute touch-ups to her appearance. Next came the sound of the door opening. Quinn was not aware of rising to her feet but she found herself drawn to the foot of the staircase, straining for the first look at Rachel in her dress.

When the other girl came into view, Quinn was left breathless. Rachel was wearing a strapless, petal pink gown that hugged her torso and hips before fanning out just above the knee. As she descended one careful step at a time, they caught a glimpse of gold high heels.

"You look perfect," Quinn murmured.

Rachel blushed and grinned.

"Thank you," she said softly. "So do you."

Hiram looked from one girl to the other before turning to his husband.

"LeRoy, get the camera," he instructed.

Quinn took Rachel's hand when she reached the bottom of the stairs. They stood back-to-back, arm-in-arm, and then front-to-front with their hands on their hips for the photographs that LeRoy Berry took of them.

"I suppose we'd better let the two of you hit the road," LeRoy concluded once the photo session was over and he had turned off the camera.

Quinn trailed her fingers along the inside of Rachel's wrist and grazed her palm. She gave her girlfriend a pleading look and then nodded in the Berrys' direction. Rachel nodded subtly and squared her shoulders.

"Actually, before we go, there's something that we wanted to tell you."

LeRoy and Hiram moved to stand side by side as they listened to their daughter.

"As I'm sure you've probably noticed, Quinn and I have been spending a lot of time together," Rachel said.

Both of her dads nodded.

"Well, it started out as a friendship - albeit an initially rocky one when we were moving on from being rivals. The thing is, and this took both of us completely by surprise, our interest in each other went beyond that to something bigger."

Neither of Rachel's parents appeared shocked by this revelation, and so she plowed onward.

"So, after she was right by my side through the drama at the end of my relationship with Finn, and when she supported me through everything else that was going on in my life, Quinn and I decided that we wanted to be even closer."

She gave Quinn a brief smile before turning back to her dads.

"We started dating. Well, sort of. Not official dates, per se, but we agreed that it was the title we both wanted the other to have. That's what we've come to mean to each other."

Rachel shrugged somewhat self-consciously.

"I'm really sorry that I didn't tell you both much sooner. It's just that it's all taken some getting used to for me. But I look at Quinn right now, and I see the way she's looking back at me, and I know that we made the right decision. This is where I belong."

LeRoy hugged Hiram's arm and both men smiled genuinely.

"Sweetheart," Hiram addressed Rachel. "All we've ever wanted was for you to pursue your dreams and find someone who understands and supports how much those goals mean to you. The last thing in the world we were worried about was the gender of that person."

"There's nothing wrong with deviating from the original label you gave your sexuality," LeRoy said. "There's no guilt or shame in it, honey. Most especially not in this house. After speaking to this young woman on her visits here and getting to know her, you both absolutely have our blessing."

Rachel walked toward them both and hugged them tightly. They hugged her back and kissed her hair.

"Now, you'd better get going," Hiram urged. "The clock is ticking, my darlings. Get yourselves to that dance while the night is still young!"

Rachel laughed and reached for Quinn's hand.

"We will," she said. "I'll see you when I get back!"

"If we're already asleep, we'll expect full details in the morning," LeRoy said.

"Yes, every designer and decoration!" Hiram joked. "Have a good time, girls!"

Quinn led the way outside and helped Rachel climb into her car. Then she got in on the driver's side and buckled her seatbelt.

"That went well, right?" Quinn checked. "They weren't just reacting so calmly for my benefit, were they?"

"No, they really meant it," Rachel confirmed. "It's so strange; after all that Kurt faced at school and everything Santana went through when she came out, I think I was expecting the announcement to be a lot more tempestuous."

"I was afraid of that, too," Quinn admitted. "But I'm so glad that, with our parents at least, our preferences have been a complete non-issue. I wish it could be that way for everyone."

Rachel nodded.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Quinn exclaimed. "I brought you something for tonight."

"You didn't have to get me anything," Rachel protested.

Quinn reached for a plastic container on the back seat and brought it forward into the light from the Berrys' front porch. Inside was a corsage adorned with a pink aster flower.

"It's so beautiful," Rachel murmured appreciatively.

"It's a year late, but I thought I could return the favor after you picked out such a perfect one for me," Quinn said.

She opened the container and removed the decorative flower within. Rachel held out her wrist and shivered a little when Quinn's fingers gently helped tie the corsage in place.

"I wish you were running for court with me," Quinn confessed. "The way that Brittany and Santana campaigned together."

Rachel shook her head adamantly and patted Quinn's thigh.

"You were right to run as an independent candidate," Rachel insisted for what she estimated to be the dozenth time. "I would have spoiled your chances. I'm the annoying Jewish girl with the loud voice, remember? I couldn't even get us one vote."

"You'd have mine," Quinn said.

Rachel smiled patiently.

"That's sweet," she told her girlfriend. "But, seriously, I'm completely content to write your name on that ballot slip and watch you finally get the crown you've always deserved. This is your night, Quinn. I'm just your esteemed Plus One."

"You're a lot more than that to me, Rachel," Quinn argued. "I wish you didn't talk about yourself that way."

She was gazing at Rachel so intensely that it made the other girl blush. Rachel placed a hand on Quinn's cheek and teasingly turned her head away.

"Save some of your romance for the dance," she laughed. "If we keep having this heart-to-heart, we're going to be late."

... ... ...

McKinley's student council and prom committee had taken great pains to go all-out for that year's prom theme. The gymnasium was colorfully decorated with lights, giant fake trees and dinosaurs, and a painted backdrop behind the microphones to help set the scene. Everyone appeared to be warming up to the dinosaur theme idea, and all the students were grinning excitedly at the festive dance space.

The minute the clock struck eight, Brittany entered the gym in a cavewoman costume with a flock of Cheerios in tow, each wearing an oversized T-rex head over their own. Santana clapped her hands delightedly and cackled. She was certain Brittany was the only person in the whole school who could have convinced the girls to don those costumes as a favor. The song they were performing was a track called Dinosaur by Kesha. When Brittany turned her wrists out and shook her chest, Santana's eyebrows lifted and her smile became a noticeably more mischievous one.

She enjoyed the rest of the performance and then followed Brittany back out of the gym when the other girl went to the bathroom to change into her prom dress. Santana knocked lightly on the door of the stall.

"Madam President, the First Lady would like a word with you," she said in a deeper voice.

"Access granted. Send her in," Brittany called back in an equally formal tone.

Santana heard the lock slide over and quickly dashed into the stall before pushing it back into place.

"Everyone is already loving this prom," Santana enthused once she was inside. "See? I told you that you're a genius."

"I just hope there isn't any drama when the time comes to announce prom court," Brittany fretted. "Well, not any Finn drama, that is."

"Yeah, it was such a lame ass move for him to run as an independent candidate," Santana groused. "He totally stole the idea from Quinn, and we all know the only reason Finn wants on that ballot is to prove to himself that he's still a stallion so he can go out in a blaze of glory."

Brittany unceremoniously shed her costume and Santana momentarily forgot what they were discussing. She licked her lips and trailed her fingertips along her girlfriend's spine.

"Not yet," Brittany murmured. "Hold that thought until later."

Santana groaned and snaked her arms around Brittany's abdomen while she kissed her shoulders.

"We don't want to miss this night with our friends," Brittany reminded her, although the strain in her voice suggested that Santana was not the only one sorely tempted to stay where they were.

"All right," Santana reluctantly agreed. "But only because I know we have to sing later and someone might come looking for us."

She helped Brittany finish getting dressed and they left the stall together before returning to the gymnasium hand-in-hand.

"Ready to finally have that dance?" Santana purred into Brittany's ear.

Brittany nodded vigorously and led her girlfriend onto the floor as the next song began. Artie and Mercedes grabbed microphones and began their rendition of Take Care by Drake featuring Rihanna. Santana held onto Brittany's hips and danced unabashedly close. Brittany rested her palms below the bottom of Santana's spine and teased her pelvis against the smooth fabric of the other girl's dress. It was the first time they had ever moved that way together at a party that didn't revolve around alcohol, and the lack of attention it was earning them from the surrounding student body made it all the more exhilarating. As far as everyone else appeared to be concerned, Brittany and Santana were just one of many couples out on that dance floor.

Santana turned around and pulled Brittany's palms onto her waist. They continued to sway in time with the music. As Brittany stole a quick kiss on her neck, Santana's eyes fluttered closed.

"You're not making that Stall for Two seem any less appealing," Santana joked breathily.

Brittany struggled to focus through the haze that had settled over them both. She spun Santana back to face her again.

"You look really beautiful tonight," Brittany told her. "Even prettier than last year."

"And you're somewhere between adorable and downright studly," Santana praised. "A combination which only you could truly master."

Brittany tipped her little top hat and laughed.

"I try."

Santana tucked a loose strand of Brittany's hair behind her ear and gave her a quick peck on the tip of her nose.

"This is one of the best nights of my life," she confided.

"Mine, too," Brittany replied. "I take back what I said last year. This is the best prom ever."

Then she cradled Santana in her arms and kissed her as the song came to a close.

... ...

Two hours later, it was time for the prom court votes to be counted. Santana and Quinn were to tally the votes since they would "keep each other honest," and then report the results to Principal Figgins once the final line-up was complete. As Quinn stepped out into the hall to make her way in that direction, Rachel followed her and caught her arm.

"Good luck," Rachel said sweetly.

She held onto Quinn's shoulders and gave her a lingering kiss.

"Stop making out with Berry and get to the Spanish room, Quinn," Santana commanded as she waddled along with an armload of boxes topped with plastic dinosaurs. "It's time to count the votes and declare me the winner!"

Quinn and Rachel both jumped and broke apart.

"Right," Rachel murmured awkwardly. "Bye!"

She gave Quinn one last parting wave and a smile. Then Rachel disappeared back inside the gymnasium.

Quinn turned around and stalked into the unlocked classroom.

"Really?" she demanded archly.

"Hey, I can't help it if you and Pinocchio have been leaving room for Jesus between you on the dance floor all night," Santana replied. "Just 'cause you two haven't gotten your mack on out there doesn't mean I'm gonna wait to be Queen while you do it here."

"It's just difficult," Quinn sighed. "There's Finn to consider, not to mention everybody else here..."

"Nobody's bothered me and Brittany all night," Santana noted.

"They've had time to get used to you," Quinn retorted. "With us, it'd be brand new information. It'd spread through the crowd like wildfire."

Santana shrugged.

"Suit yourself," she said. "Now, let's start opening these boxes and get down to business."

They fanned all the ballots out on two separate tables and counted them carefully. The chalkboard beside them had two scoreboards drawn in white: one for Santana's use and one for Quinn's.

"My count for king is the same as yours. I don't get it," Santana said when they had finished. "How could Brittany have only gotten four votes? This Dino Prom theme was a smash."

"Maybe it has something to do with the fact that she's a girl," Quinn pointed out with a significant look. Perhaps the students of McKinley had not grown as passive as Santana thought they had.

"Screw this," Santana decided. "I don't want to be Queen if Britt isn't King."

"Well, good," Quinn responded slowly. "Because my count for queen was the same as yours. I won by one vote."

Santana grumpily went back to the chalkboard and wrote in Quinn's final count.

"I won," Quinn repeated to herself. "It's everything I've ever wanted and I don't feel any different."

"Super," Santana drawled. "Glad to know the view from the top is overrated."

"It's not that," Quinn amended apologetically. "It's just that I don't need those people in there to define me anymore. I don't need their approval rating to tell me that I'm on the right track in my life."

Santana folded her arms across her chest.

"Honestly, though," Quinn continued. "Do you still feel like you need them to give you a pat on the back, or a thumbs up, or some silly vote to feel validated about the woman you've become?"

Santana rubbed her neck over the place where Brittany had kissed her while they danced.

"No," she realized. "I honestly don't give a shit anymore about who they want me to be."

"Exactly," Quinn replied. "That crown wouldn't hold any power for either of us anymore. Come to think of it, after talking to Missy Gunderson about all her post-graduation plans, I don't think it would have quite the same magic for her, either."

"So what exactly are you saying?" Santana inquired. "Nobody should be Prom Queen?"

"I'm saying I think it should be someone who needs to see themselves through new eyes," Quinn explained. "Someone who's given up on themselves and needs to be reminded that they matter and people still care. Don't you want to leave this place having made a difference?"

"Oh no!" Santana cried and stomped to the other side of the room. "You wanna give it to Ziggy so she'll stop pouting about that freaking audition! Not gonna happen."

"Santana..."

"No!" Santana protested vehemently. "Just 'cause she's got you more whipped than a circus animal doesn't mean I'm gonna hand her this victory."

"Please," Quinn begged. "Not for me, or for how I feel about her. I swear to you, that isn't what this is about. This is about someone who watched their dream die in front of them and has been trying to paste the pieces of their life back together around that gaping hole. If she just had a reason to believe again that she isn't a failure, that she isn't somehow bringing everybody down, then maybe her life would turn back around for the better."

Santana scowled and crossed her arms again.

"You know giving her the title would mean she'd have a dance with Stomps Von Homophobe, right?"

Quinn sighed heavily.

"Yeah, I do. I'm not sure how that will go, but I can't shake the feeling that this is the right thing to do. C'mon, Santana," Quinn urged. "You and I both know what rock bottom looks like. Wouldn't it be nice, now that we're out of that dark place, to help someone else find that first glimmer of hope and try again?"

Santana considered this for a moment. She ran her tongue over her teeth and sighed heavily.

"Why not?" she decided at last with a shrug of her shoulders. "Looks like it's time for McKinley's tradition of write-in votes to make a comeback."

... ...

The minute that Principal Figgins spoke Rachel's name into the microphone, there was stunned silence. Then, amazingly, the crowd provided a smattering of genuinely supportive applause. Rachel took almost the entire walk toward her waiting crown to start believing that the result was real. Even so, as it fully sank in, she still appeared nervous.

In spite of herself, Santana beamed right along with everyone else when Kurt placed the crown atop Rachel's head. Quinn kept waiting for the moment, that first beautiful smile once Rachel could hear all the seniors and juniors cheering for her. However, it did not come yet.

Rachel walked briskly to her left, where the female candidates were standing, and whispered fearfully into Quinn's ear.

"Is this some kind of joke or something? I mean like Kurt last year. Is someone going to throw pig's blood on me next like in Carrie?"

"It's no joke," Quinn assured.

"Then I really got the most votes?" Rachel asked.

"Two hundred sheets of paper have your name on them," Quinn evasively replied.

She turned Rachel around and nudged her back in the opposite direction.

"Go," Quinn encouraged. "They're waiting for you."

As Principal Figgins announced that it was time for the first dance of the Prom King and Queen, Quinn signaled to Sam and Puck that they did not need to step forward to sing. Instead, she walked over to the band to tell them the change of plans.

"We're going to skip forward to the Berlin number, okay? Santana and I have got this one," Quinn said.

John, the drummer, and Scott, the bassist, gave a thumbs up to confirm that they understood and were ready. Quinn held onto the microphone stand with a tense grip as she sang. Her eyes were locked solely on Rachel and the emotions that were flitting across the other girl's face while swaying in Finn's arms. The two were talking in hushed voices as they moved but they did not allow their bodies to touch. Quinn was unable to make out any of their conversation. She sincerely hoped that Finn wasn't ruining Rachel's big moment by trying to use this as a window of opportunity to start again but, knowing him as she did, Quinn had a sinking feeling.

When their slow-turning circles moved them around so that Finn's back was to the band, Quinn locked eyes with Rachel. She sang every word of the lyrics directly to her and did not bother to keep her sincerity in check for anyone else that might be watching. Rachel smiled for the first time since the winners of the vote had been announced, and Quinn's heart swelled as she smiled in return.

Brittany made her way to the front of the crowd, weaving between the press of other bodies, and caught Santana's attention. She mouthed 'I love you,' traced a heart around her face, and pointed to her girlfriend. Santana winked.

Once the song came to its conclusion, everyone stopped to applaud the King and Queen again. Finn moved to steal a kiss, but Rachel put a stilling hand against his chest. When he murmured an inquiry that only she could hear, Rachel gave a quiet reply and glanced at Quinn.

Finn's back stiffened. He looked over his shoulder at Quinn as his eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed. Then he slowly shook his head, disengaged from Rachel's hold, and left the gymnasium. Quinn handed the microphone off to Puck for the next song and darted out onto the dance floor.

"What happened? What did he say?"

"He tried to say that us both winning was fate, that it was a sign we were supposed to give us another chance," Rachel recounted. "I told him that he and I both know that would be a mistake, whether he chooses to admit it or not. He wanted to know why I'm so set against it, but he wouldn't take my answer at face value. So I blurted out that my heart is no longer free for the taking and, well, now he knows."

"Should we talk to him?" Quinn fretted.

"I will," Rachel said.

"But what if he has a violent reaction?"

"I can handle it," Rachel told her certainly. "Maybe you can listen somewhere out of sight, so that way he doesn't know you're close by."

Quinn nodded and gave Rachel's hands a quick squeeze. Rachel gulped.

"Well, here goes."

... ...

Finn was pacing along the stage in the auditorium when Rachel finally tracked him down. Quinn went in through the back set of doors and listened from behind the curtains.

"Finn?" Rachel voiced timidly.

"What now?" Finn demanded. "You gonna tell me that Quinn proposed to you too and that you accepted her?"

"No, of course not," Rachel replied. "You can't honestly think I'd be that cruel."

Finn laughed humorlessly.

"I don't know what to think, except that I must be the most repulsive guy on the planet because every girl I've ever slept with has decided they never wanted another dude again."

"It isn't like that," Rachel argued. "Here... Finn, please, stop pacing. Can't we just sit for a while and talk?"

Finn considered this for a moment and gave a hesitant nod. He sat down with his long legs dangling over the edge of the stage, and Rachel clumsily tried to follow suit despite the fact that her gown was not conducive to those efforts.

"All right," Finn challenged. "If it's not like that, then help me understand. What is it like?"

Rachel smoothed the fabric of her dress as she tried to find the right words to articulate what she had been feeling recently.

"It wasn't that you 'turned' me," Rachel told him. "It's not like vampirism or werewolves; people don't 'turn' gay. And, honestly, I don't think that I am gay. Not exclusively. It's not so black and white for me. Sexuality is more of a spectrum and I fall somewhere in the middle."

Finn glanced at her dubiously.

"You didn't turn any of us, Finn," Rachel continued. "Santana has been a lesbian her whole life, and no skill or lack thereof that you possessed could have changed that. Quinn is like me. Her attractions aren't polarized; she can be drawn to either."

Finn ran his hands through his hair.

"I just don't understand it," he said. "You guys hated each other and you fought all the time. It was weird enough to me that you two started hanging out and being friends but now this? How am I not supposed to take this personally?"

"Because it has nothing to do with you," Rachel answered. "Not to say that it doesn't affect you, because I know that it does, really I do. But this isn't some kind of commentary on what our relationships were like with you. It's about the pull that she and I feel toward each other."

Finn's jaw clenched and he swiped the side of his hand under his nose.

"Am I never going to be somebody's best choice?" Finn asked bleakly. "Is there ever gonna be a time when who I already am is enough for somebody and I give them exactly what they need?"

"Yes, of course you will!" Rachel asserted and rubbed his back. "Finn, you are a very special guy who is worthy of love."

"Just not yours," Finn bitterly concluded.

"The decision that I made was for both of us," Rachel responded. "It wasn't just that you didn't really want to come to New York with me. Please don't ever think that us breaking up was some kind of punishment for not wanting to go into show business."

She reached for his hand. Finn allowed her to hold his palm between both of her own.

"The fact of the matter was that I was holding onto a good guy, but neither of us were good for each other. I pushed you constantly, Finn, and what you've said tonight just makes me even more certain that I did what was best for us both. You want to be enough for someone the way that you are right now. That wasn't the way that I treated you, and we both know it. I was always asking for something more from you, telling you to be something different."

Finn thought back and nodded a little, albeit reluctantly.

"We both wanted to hold onto each other, but life was leading us in very different directions," Rachel said. "It doesn't mean it was anyone's fault, and it doesn't lessen the love we shared. It just means that we weren't meant to be the end of the line in each other's journey."

Finn was unable to hide the burning tears that slid down his cheeks. Rachel's own face was dampened by the emotions she had released.

"Please don't be angry, Finn," Rachel begged. "Not at me, not at Quinn, and most especially not at yourself. This is the way things were supposed to be. You did nothing wrong."

"Maybe not to lose you, but I have screwed up in a lot of other ways this year," Finn admitted ashamedly. "Being without you these past four months, I've kept thinking that maybe the universe is trying to send me a message. I think I've gotta work on myself before I find the girl that I tried to tell myself was you."

Rachel listened without comment and watched his face.

"You know, I saw Brittany after she got attacked by those guys. Saw her right after, when Santana was taking her to the nurse's office," Finn confided. "It scared me 'cause there was so much blood, but what really stuck with me was Santana's face. She was yelling at me again, but it was different from any of the other times. I looked into her eyes and there was so much fear. Fear that the damage was permanent, fear that she hadn't been able to stop it, fear that it'd happen again."

He scratched his neck and stifled a sob.

"I did that." Finn choked the words out with difficulty. "I made people feel that kind of fear, like they couldn't exist without making somebody hate them. I did it to Kurt, and then Santana, then Brittany... I don't wanna be that guy anymore."

Rachel caressed the back of Finn's palm with the edge of her thumb.

"So I've gotta change," Finn determined. "A lot. And I guess you can't be the one to fix me. That has to be me. I have to do it for myself. But the thing I need you to know is that... I'm really grateful. You gave me something to aspire to, Rachel. Someday I'm going to be the kind of guy you always told me I was, the kind of guy that would make you proud. I hope someday I can look in the mirror and see him looking back through my eyes."

Rachel cupped both sides of his face.

"I'm sure that you will be that man someday. I still believe in you, Finn. I always will."

Finn wrapped his hands around the backs of Rachel's. His throat was too constricted to form an audible thank you, but Rachel knew what he wanted to say regardless.

Rachel watched as Finn left the auditorium and returned to the dance. She felt Quinn's arms wrap around her from behind and her girlfriend's lips pressed gentle kisses to the back of her neck.

"You handled that really well," Quinn murmured. "I know it was hard."

Rachel draped her arms over Quinn's and bobbed her head in silent agreement.

"But you know what?" she said through her tears. "I think we needed it, the closure."

Quinn nodded understandingly.

"I know you and Santana rigged the vote, by the way," Rachel added.

Quinn jumped in surprise and her grip on Rachel tightened.

"How?" she inquired.

"I could see it in your eyes when I asked you about the ballots," Rachel said. "But it's okay. It means the world to me that you guys would do something like that, just because you know I've been doubting myself a lot lately."

"Did it make you feel any different?" Quinn asked hopefully.

"Yeah, it did," Rachel mused. "Knowing that my girlfriend got someone who has hated me from day one to fill out half of two hundred ballots with my name written over and over... and it must have been in different handwriting each time because otherwise I'm sure Figgins would have thought I stuffed the boxes again myself..."

Quinn nodded to confirm this suspicion.

"... not to mention how I saw each and every one of the New Directions cheering for me as if they had written those votes in themselves," Rachel continued. "They were really proud of me, actually happy to see me get that crown, and it made me start to feel like maybe I did deserve it a little. Never in a million years would I have thought that someone like me would win Prom Queen. But if my friends believe in me enough to see me this way, then... I don't know; maybe anything's possible."

Quinn turned Rachel around so they were face-to-face and kissed her.

"I'm so glad to hear you sounding like your old self again," she said sincerely. "All I've wanted was to see the light in your eyes, like you had some fight left in you. I knew it was in there somewhere, if I could just bring it back to the surface."

Rachel smiled. She held Quinn close and rested her head against the other girl's chest.

"Do you want to get back in there?" Quinn suggested. "We can probably catch the last few songs before it's over."

"Actually, I want us to go back to my house," Rachel decided. "Would that be all right?"

She pulled back a little to look up into Quinn's eyes. Quinn held that gaze and was barely able to recover herself enough to stammer an awkward reply.

"O-Okay."

... ... ...

When they got back to Rachel's house on Birch Hill Road, the lights were all out and the rooms were silent. Quinn and Rachel slipped off their shoes and left them beside the door.

"I guess they went to bed," Rachel concluded.

"I guess so," Quinn concurred feebly.

"We should head up to my room," Rachel said.

"Sure," Quinn agreed with a tiny shrug.

Rachel led the way up the stairs, across the hall into her bedroom, and then closed the door behind them. She locked it and flicked on the light at the same time.

"Home at last," Rachel announced and tapped her hands against her thighs.

Quinn shuffled her feet and nodded while she avoided direct eye contact.

"Come here," Rachel beckoned softly.

Quinn complied and was rewarded with a kiss so passionate that it nearly threw off her balance. Rachel's hand slid around her body and began tugging down the zipper on the back of Quinn's dress.

"Rachel," Quinn protested in a whisper. "I don't think we should -"

She stopped mid-sentence when Rachel pressed three fingers to her lips.

"I want us to have this," Rachel told her.

"So do I," Quinn concurred. "So badly that sometimes I feel like I might explode, but on prom night it just feels like it would make it cliché. I don't want to cheapen this memory."

"If we overthink it, there will always be an excuse," Rachel disputed. "We can't have our first time after Nationals because then it will be more about that event than about us; we can't have it after graduation because it will feel more like an end than a beginning; we shouldn't have it before we go to New York because we'll be stressed about all those changes we're about to face and we won't enjoy it. You see? The list would go on and on forever."

"I guess you're right," Quinn admitted. "There would always be something."

"Exactly," Rachel said. "And I don't want to miss all those chances when I could be sharing myself with you."

She stood on tiptoe and rested their foreheads together.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm a nervous wreck right now," Rachel whispered.

"You are?" Quinn asked quietly.

"I'm alone at night in my bedroom with Quinn Fabray," Rachel pointed out with a little laugh. "I think that'd make just about anybody with a pulse break out in a cold sweat."

"You don't have to prove anything to me," Quinn promised as she brushed back her girlfriend's hair. "This is still sort of foreign territory to me, too."

Rachel smiled and kissed her again, slipping her tongue into Quinn's mouth and grazing the inside of her lip.

"What's next?" Rachel asked tremulously.

Quinn could feel a deep blush creeping across her skin as she replied.

"Well, considering the restrictions of the dress fabric, we should probably..."

She trailed off and looked at the mermaid style of Rachel's gown. Rachel followed that thought process and her eyes widened.

"Oh! Right. Of course."

Rachel tried to find her own zipper, but her trembling fingers couldn't keep a firm hold on it. Quinn saw that she was struggling and reached around her girlfriend's back. They both held their breath while Quinn eased the zipper down along one tooth after the next. Rachel held onto the front of the dress as it loosened itself from her body.

Quinn bit her lip and placed her palms over Rachel's hands. She lifted her eyebrows in an unspoken question and her girlfriend nodded. Rachel draped her arms around Quinn's neck and kissed her again. The dress slid off her skin and pooled around her feet.

Rachel shivered as Quinn's hand pressed against her bare back. Quinn pulled away from their kiss and let her gaze to finally travel downward. Rachel's shoulders lifted self-consciously. Her expression looked almost apologetic. Quinn cupped the back of Rachel's head and leaned in closer.

"You are so beautiful," Quinn told her.

"You don't have to say that," Rachel murmured.

"Yes, I do."

Quinn guided Rachel's hand to her spine and permitted the other girl to unzip her dress. She shed the gown and kicked it aside before pulling Rachel in for another kiss. The minute that their torsos came into contact, they both shivered and allowed their hands to explore.

Rachel stumbled backward and fell onto her bed. Quinn paused, panting, and looked down at where her girlfriend was sprawled out and waiting for her. She climbed onto the mattress, straddling Rachel as she crawled, and trailed open-mouthed kisses along her neck. Rachel carefully plucked out Quinn's bobby pins until her hair came down in a tangle of short, golden curls. She wove her fingers through it and sighed when Quinn's tongue slid across her clavicle.

Quinn moved to tug on Rachel's earlobe with her teeth and realized that they hadn't removed their earrings. She reached up to take off her own and Rachel followed suit before they tossed the lot onto her nightstand. Rachel took advantage of that pause to prop herself up and enfold the other girl in her arms while she marked her neck. She sucked the flesh with such gusto that it made Quinn whimper and dig her nails into Rachel's shoulders.

"I love you," Quinn whispered.

Rachel kissed the fresh bruise she had left over her girlfriend's pulse point and nuzzled her jawline.

"I love you, too."

Quinn coaxed Rachel back against the pillows and kissed the skin directly over her heart. She dragged her tongue over the other girl's nipple before parting her lips and covering Rachel's breast with her mouth. Rachel groaned and wriggled her hands under Quinn's underwear, grazing the curves beneath with her nails and making her girlfriend gasp.

Rachel had only a moment to smirk before Quinn moved to the other side of her chest and made her quiver again. Quinn withdrew her mouth just as the other girl keened. She scooted back down the mattress and looped her fingers around the band of Rachel's underwear. As Quinn eased it down Rachel's legs, the other girl balled the sheets up in both fists in an effort to calm her quickened pulse. Quinn kissed the insides of Rachel's thighs to comfort her, but that touch only made goosebumps rise all over her girlfriend's body. Quinn took Rachel's hands in hers and put them on her hips before glancing up and nodding. Rachel followed this cue and tugged Quinn's underwear over her smooth, taut skin.

Once they were completely bare, Quinn took a deep breath and ran her open palms along Rachel's legs. She settled her body atop Rachel's and kissed her deeply as she began to thrust. Rachel lightly clawed Quinn's sides and sighed.

Quinn gained momentum and growled faintly when Rachel tugged on her hair. Rachel released that hold and gripped Quinn's rump again, leaving bright pink ovals on the flesh where her fingertips had been. Quinn bit her lip while her hips bucked involuntarily.

She slipped a hand between them and slowly eased one finger inside of Rachel. When she was sure that her girlfriend was comfortable with that, Quinn added a second. Her thumb circled Rachel's clit and she used the movement of her hips to thrust deeper. When Quinn's fingers curled in unison and found the other girl's G-spot, Rachel's whole body trembled.

Rachel closed her eyes as her muscles contracted and Quinn watched breathlessly. Quinn pressed gentle, lingering kisses to Rachel's skin as the latter gradually came back down and her body melted into a sweat-dampened heap atop the blankets.

"Did you get to...?" Rachel murmured.

"Not yet, but that's okay," Quinn dismissed quickly.

"Could I try?"

Quinn blushed and nodded. She took Rachel's hand in hers, kissed the other girl's fingertips, and then guided that palm between her thighs. Rachel's touch was more tentative than Quinn's had been. She took her time traveling along the folds and tracing from entrance to taint and back again before her first finger slipped inside. Rachel sat up and spread her legs wide so that Quinn could kneel between them. She inserted a second finger and tried to duplicate the circling motion Quinn had made with her thumb. Rachel's free palm pressed against the small of her girlfriend's back while Quinn rocked against her hand and began breathing heavily. Quinn held onto Rachel's shoulders for a moment before pulling her in roughly for another kiss.

When Quinn's head tilted back and her spine arched, Rachel lowered her mouth to the other girl's chest. She flicked her tongue across Quinn's nipple and repeated this teasing motion until it hardened before turning to the other. By the time she parted her lips and began to suck in earnest, Quinn had started to moan unreservedly. Rachel increased the strength behind the movements of her hand and listened for the hitch in Quinn's breathing.

"Fuck," Quinn whined as her eyes clamped shut and she gasped raggedly.

Rachel wrapped an arm around her and held on while she rode it out to the finish. She offered her shoulder as a place for Quinn to rest her head when at last her body stilled. Quinn pressed grateful kisses to Rachel's shoulder blade and neck before she finally returned to the vacant side of the bed.

Quinn let her arms fall limply against the mattress on either side of her. Rachel grabbed the arm nearest to her and draped it around her own shoulders before she snuggled against Quinn's side. Her fingertip trailed down Quinn's cleavage, along her abdomen, and circled her navel.

"You will stay the night, won't you?" Rachel murmured.

Quinn cupped the side of Rachel's face and kissed her softly.

"Of course," she whispered back. "I have no intention of going anywhere without you."

... ... ...

The following Monday morning, Quinn walked through McKinley's front doors and turned down the first hallway to deposit her books. When she drew nearer to her locker, Quinn saw that the lock was already popped open and turned to one side.

"What the hell?" she muttered.

She pulled open the locker door and found a tiny, decorated cake sitting on a plastic plate. The icing spelled out four words in red letters.

"You've gotta be kidding me." Quinn rolled her eyes.

"'Congrats on the sex,'" Santana read aloud as she and Brittany walked out of a nearby classroom. "I see you found my present. Well, I say 'my,' but Britt technically made it. I just provided the sentiment."

"I have half a mind to smack you in the face with this," Quinn joked.

"But you're much too happy for that kind of aggression," Santana concluded. "I see that nice, healthy glow you have about you on this fine morning. Prom was Friday night, Little Miss Sunshine. Just how many times did you two go at it?"

"Rachel would kill me if I told you," Quinn said as she handed the cake off to Brittany and began unloading the contents of her backpack.

Santana's eyes widened and a huge grin spread across her face.

"Ohohoho!" she cackled. "That means it was way more than once! I cannot wait to see Berry in the choir room."

"Don't," Quinn pleaded.

"Oh, calm down," Santana dismissed. "I won't tease her... too much. Maybe just a hand gesture or two when nobody's looking."

Quinn smacked a palm against her forehead and stowed her bag in the locker.

"The weekend with Rachel isn't your only exciting news today," Brittany informed her with a smile.

"What do you mean?" Quinn asked confusedly.

"Valedictorian and Salutatorian are going to be announced this morning," Brittany explained. "We heard a couple of teachers talking about it by the water fountain. They already know which students earned the titles."

Quinn looked from one friend to the other. Santana patted Quinn's shoulder and winked.

"Better start preparing your speech, Bookworm."

... ... ...

"Can't I have at least a little sneak peek?" Rachel wheedled.

Quinn held the notebook flat against her chest and shook her head adamantly.

"It isn't ready," she insisted.

Rachel pouted and batted her eyelashes. Quinn laughed and poked the other girl's lower lip back into place.

"You'll be the first one I read it to, when the time comes," Quinn promised. "Just be patient."

"You know that isn't one of my strong suits," Rachel said.

"I know, but it's gonna have to be this time," Quinn asserted. "This is a huge deal, one of the last speeches our graduating class will hear before they are sent out into the world. It has to be memorable; it needs to speak to people."

"Well, if anyone is fit to give them some wise insight into life before they leave school, it's you," Rachel determined. "You've had a lot more experience with growing up quickly than any of them could even begin to imagine."

"Yeah, I have," Quinn concurred. "Still, I don't want to scare the shit out of them. I need to shoot for something uplifting."

She closed the notebook and tossed it onto her nightstand. Quinn reached over Rachel to access her open backpack, which she had deposited on the floor beside her bed. Rachel walked her fingertips up Quinn's thigh until they disappeared beneath her Cheerio skirt. Quinn smirked and took her time finding the paper she needed.

"I think I'm going to take a break from writing my speech," Quinn determined as she sat back up again. "I'll know the right words when they come to me. Why don't we look at superlatives for a bit instead?"

"Okay," Rachel agreed readily and rose to fetch her own copy.

She walked back to the bed and flopped sideways across it. Rachel's head landed in her girlfriend's lap, and Quinn softly stroked her hair.

"Best Personality - Male," Rachel read aloud. "Probably Mike. Best Personality - Female -"

"Brittany," Quinn filled in automatically. "Most Humorous - Female. Santana, when she isn't trying to destroy anybody. Most Humorous - Male is Sam."

"Agreed," Rachel said as she wrote in their friend's name. "Most Likely to Succeed - Female..."

"Rachel Berry," Quinn stated matter-of-factly as she wrote on the line provided.

Rachel blushed and bit her lip.

"Now, if only Madam Tibideaux would agree with you," she sighed wistfully. "I know I've got my back-ups, but I just really wish she would at least consider coming to see me perform at Nationals."

"Maybe she will," Quinn consoled her sweetly. "I know the messages on her phone didn't go anywhere, and she wasn't exactly receptive when you and Tina drove out to see her earlier this week, but having multiple people defend your talent to her of their own free will could help speak volumes."

"I guess we'll find out in Chicago." Rachel shrugged. "In the meantime, at least I can rest easy knowing that those conservatories think I show promise."

"Now you're talking," Quinn winked. "Either way, the important thing is that you are going to New York, where you've always belonged, and you'll be doing what you love. You didn't let anything or anybody stand in your way. I'm so proud of you."

"I wouldn't have had that determination without you," Rachel told her sincerely. "You really saved me, you know."

Quinn made a dismissive sound and waved away her girlfriend's assertion.

"All I did was remind you of what you already knew," Quinn said humbly. "You're a star, Rachel."

Rachel sat up and wrapped her arm around Quinn's shoulders. She gave her a grateful kiss and held her close.

"Most Attractive - Female," Rachel recited with a grin. "Lucy Quinn Fabray. Is it too much if I write my answer in all caps?"

Quinn laughed and lovingly bit Rachel's shoulder.

"Shameless," Quinn teased. "Using superlative nominations to flirt and try to get into your girlfriend's pants."

She clicked her tongue and shook her head. Rachel giggled and sat atop Quinn's thighs.

"Well, is it working?" Rachel murmured in Quinn's ear.

Quinn toyed with the buttons on the front of Rachel's blouse and smiled.

"You certainly wouldn't have to twist my arm."

... ... ...

"I get the feeling I'm going to regret this," Santana lamented as she found a couple of vacant seats with a good view of the track.

Her little brother was following a short distance behind with a bag of popcorn and a Coke. Matyas was taking in all of the excitement and did not hear her grumbled remarks.

"This is so awesome!" the thirteen-year-old enthused. "How come you've never brought me to one of these before?"

"For the sake of my nerves," Santana responded testily. "And because I was pretty sure watching Britt go flying through the air with nothing but a bike to soften her landing would make me pass out."

"You worry too much," Matyas scoffed. "Brittany's been doing this for more than two years, right? She knows what she's doing."

"I'm glad the fate of the love of my life is of chief concern to you," Santana drawled.

"They're getting ready to start!" Matyas whooped and pointed to the track.

Santana gripped the seat in front of her and held her breath. She could just make out Brittany's neon green helmet among the cluster of racers. The other girl's determination was visible even from afar. Her shoulders were already set and her body was poised in starting position, just waiting for the go signal.

As the competitors crossed the starting line, Matyas cheered raucously and pumped his fist in the air.

"Go Number Seventeen!" he cried.

Santana had to fight hard to conceal her smile. Even if most of the time she wanted to deny sharing any genes with this prepubescent boy at her side, it did feel nice to hear him openly supporting her girlfriend in public.

"Hey, Ty?" Santana said tentatively.

"Yeah?" Matyas acknowledged as he loudly slurped his soft drink.

"Did anybody give you any crap about me at school? Y'know, after that commercial back in the fall?" Santana asked.

Matyas shrugged.

"A little, I guess," he admitted. "Mostly, the guys just wanted to know if I'd ever walked in on you."

Santana laughed.

"What did you say?" she inquired curiously.

"I told them not to be stupid," Matyas answered. "Because, if I had, you'd have killed me and I wouldn't be there to answer their question."

"You've got that right," Santana concurred and ruffled his hair.

She studied him for a moment.

"So you really don't care?" Santana marveled. "It doesn't bother you that they know we're related?"

"Nah," Matyas replied. "It isn't even a big secret. It's not like if you were an FBI agent or spy or something cool like that, you know? My sister dates a girl. Big whoop. Courtney Travers pretends she's dating Justin Timberlake and nobody made a commercial about it. Why do people care about all this dating stuff? Like, if they're not kissing you, then what does it matter?"

Santana sucked on her bottom lip and blinked rapidly.

"Somewhere along the way, you turned out to be a pretty cool kid," she remarked quietly.

Without warning, Santana hugged her brother tightly and kissed his cheek.

"Gah!" he groused and rubbed the lipstick off with the back of his palm. "Not now, Tana! They're on the last lap!"

Santana returned her focus to Brittany and felt her heart leap in her chest as she realized that her girlfriend was in the lead. She grabbed her brother's shoulder and shook it excitedly.

"She's in first place! She's first! She's going to win!" Santana babbled almost incoherently.

"I know, I know!" Matyas said as he tried to shake himself free from her grip.

The crowd gave a deafening cheer as the race came to an end when Brittany crossed the finish line, but none quite so shrilly as Santana.

"BRITTANY! NUMBER SEVENTEEN IS THE WINNER!" Santana shouted. "THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND! THAT IS MY MOTHERFUCKING CHAMPION, RIGHT THERE!"

Matyas tried to pretend he didn't know Santana as she stood on her seat and waved her arms in the air, but he couldn't help laughing at her wide-eyed exuberance. Brittany held her first place trophy aloft and Santana made a sound vaguely reminiscent of a fire engine. Soon the racers began to make their way off the track, and Santana signaled that her brother should wait in his seat while she went to see Brittany.

Santana clambered over the exiting patrons and did not lose stride as she swung herself over the low wall to reach where her girlfriend was standing. Brittany was just removing her helmet as Santana came crashing into her.

"You did it, baby!" Santana cried triumphantly. "It's your last Motocross race and you won!"

Brittany only had time to nod and smile before Santana jumped up and locked both legs on either side of her. Then Brittany supported her girlfriend's weight with both hands and closed her eyes as Santana kissed her deeply. Unseen by either of them, Matyas set down his popcorn and drink to free his hands. Amidst all the other post-game racket, he hollered his support for the winner and clapped loudly, without a care in the world for anyone who looked his way.

... ... ...

Quinn walked off the football field with her bag slung over one shoulder. As she approached the stands, Quinn spotted Puck and Mackenzie sitting under the bleachers together. They had dragged the old, battered sofa nearer to the light and were surrounded by crumpled pieces of notebook paper. Puck was leaning his head back against the cushion while Mackenzie held an ice pack against the side of his face.

"C'mon, baby," Mackenzie begged. "I know you're in pain, but you don't need to move to recite the names of the oceans."

"I can't concentrate when my jaw is throbbing," Puck complained.

"You stall more than my secondhand Chevy," Mackenzie goaded. "Stiff upper lip there, soldier. You've got a long way to go. We haven't even touched the mountain ranges yet."

"Speaking of touching mountain ranges..."

"Focus."

Quinn fought back a laugh and cleared her throat.

"Oh hey, Fabray," Mackenzie greeted. "I was just trying to talk some sense into the King of Procrastination here. He seems to think a couple of body aches are a perfectly viable reason to stop studying for his exam retake."

"How come you need an ice pack?" Quinn asked worriedly.

"Rick threw me in the dumpster," Puck confessed.

"That hockey prick decided it'd be fun to get under his skin about the fact that he might not graduate," Mackenzie elaborated. "So what does genius here do? Pulls a stage knife on him to shake him up, gets caught by a teacher, and then refuses to study when that teacher does him a solid and gets him a second chance to pass."

"Who was the teacher?" Quinn inquired.

"Coach Beiste," Puck responded. "She's really had my back on this one. I owe her."

"Exactly!" Mackenzie fumed. "So study the damn notes."

"Look, I didn't say I was gonna stop studying forever," Puck protested. "I just wanted a little break. There's so much information. It's making my head hurt."

"I'm gonna give you a matching pain in that finely toned ass of yours if you don't start learning some geography," Mackenzie threatened. "We don't have time, babe. You've gotta start getting it down pat if you're gonna make this thing count."

"Mind if I offer some studying advice?" Quinn asked tentatively.

"Please." Mackenzie nodded. "We're desperate."

"It looks to me like what you could use is organization," Quinn remarked. "There are dozens of papers here just sort of strewn all over the place. Maybe if there was a system, if the information felt like it flowed in any logical order, it would start to connect in your head the same way. "

"That sounds like a decent plan," Puck concurred. "But how am I supposed to organize it logically when I don't understand it in the first place?"

"I'll do it," Quinn shrugged.

Both Puck and Mackenzie sat up straighter to gawp at her.

"You're gonna sift through all of this?" Mackenzie verified with an encompassing gesture to all of the scraps. "For free?"

"Yeah," Quinn said. "I mean, the Cheerios have their final competition this Saturday, but I can bring these with me on the bus or something. Just let me take these home with me over the weekend and sort them, and I'll have them back by Monday morning. When's your test, Puck?"

"Thursday morning, right before we leave for Nationals," he replied.

"Perfect. That'll give you the majority of three days to get the information from there to there," Quinn beamed, pointing first to the sheets of paper and then to Puck's head.

"That would be fantastic," Mackenize enthused. "You're a lifesaver; you know that, right? But what are you going to get out of it?"

"I get to help the man who fathered my child see that he's not the Lima Loser I once told him he was," Quinn replied honestly. "And make sure that he doesn't get saddled with a lackluster future that would kill the spark inside that drew me to him in the first place."

Quinn knelt on the ground, careful to avoid getting her uniform skirt dusty, and gathered the notebook paper. Mackenzie poked Puck in the arm and smiled affectionately.

"See that, Puckerman?" she demanded. "You've got two gorgeous women right here telling you that you're worth more than you think. I don't know how much more of an ego boost you need. Now it's up to you to prove us right, capiche?"

"All right, all right," Puck chuckled and held his hands aloft. "But, you know, it wouldn't hurt my chances if I could get a little good luck kiss to seal the deal."

"Fabray, you wanna help me out on this one?" Mackenzie asked.

Quinn nodded agreeably and sat on the vacant cushion next to Puck. She stowed the papers in her duffel bag and then kissed the boy's cheek at the same time as Mackenzie mimicked this gesture on the opposite side.

"There," Mackenzie concluded and defiantly crossed her arms. "Twice the luck. Better pass it with flying colors, handsome, 'cause now you've got no excuse."

... ... ...

"Chicago," Santana said as she stood in front of the window and spread her arms wide. "Birthplace of softball, skyscrapers, and deep dish pizza, and soon to be home to the finest up-and-coming journalist and mezzo-soprano this state has ever seen."

Brittany looped both of her arms around one of Santana's and squeezed excitedly.

"It does feel really cool to be back here, now that we know this is where we're gonna be living together for four years," Brittany agreed.

"God bless roommate requests!" Santana shouted.

"And God save any students whose dorms share a wall with yours," Quinn quipped from behind them.

Santana winked roguishly and kissed Brittany's cheek.

"Now that we know that this city already belongs to us, taking it by storm at Nationals shouldn't be a problem," Santana declared. "We are gonna own that stage!"

"Don't get over-confident," Rachel cautioned. "We still have to contend with Vocal Adrenaline, and we know that they have Unique in their arsenal. Everyone loves a phenomenon, especially one that pushes the envelope."

"Rachel Berry giving advice on how to tone down arrogance," Mercedes mused. "Now I really have heard everything!"

"She does have a point, though," Tina defended. "Unique has been getting a lot of buzz in show choir circles. We're going to have to be at our best for the judges to remember us over her."

"Good thing The Troubletones are back and stronger than ever," Sugar said proudly. "Now that we have you and Quinn joining us and one of our lead vocalists is a UCLA-accepted singer with a record deal on an indie label."

"Just as a back-up singer," Mercedes protested humbly.

"And we've got our most talented dancer giving us our best choreography yet," Santana added with an affectionate peck on Brittany's shoulder.

They each stowed their carry-on bags under their beds and went downstairs to start rehearsing for the competition that would take place the following day. Tension was high among the club members, particularly once they learned that they had been given the first performance slot, but they banded together and worked straight through to dinner.

Mr. Schue called a one-hour break and they all dispersed to find nearby restaurants where they could eat. Then, right on the dot at seven o'clock, they filed back into their rehearsal space and began again from the top. It was not until after midnight that Mr. Schuester insisted they should call it quits and get some rest for their big day. He retired to the room he was sharing with Emma and Coach Beiste, who had tagged along for the journey, and bade the students goodnight. Coach Sylvester, who had been providing her own unique brand of support over the past few weeks to prove to Principal Figgins that she was still capable of helping students achieve greatness even during the trials of her pregnancy, insisted on having a suite all to herself.

Once the New Directions were alone, they all met up in the boys' room and sat on the floor to tell stories and share a little time together before everything was over and their show choir season was at an end. This lasted for another hour-and-a-half before exhaustion settled over them all and they finally gave into their need for sleep.

When the girls came back to their room and climbed into bed, Brittany left her own vacant in favor of sleeping beside Santana. She pulled the other girl nearer and spooned with her as they tucked the sheets in around them. Santana turned her torso and caught the side of Brittany's face with her hand before bringing their lips together for a gentle kiss.

"If you two try any hush-hush hanky panky, I will kill you," Mercedes declared. "Let the record show that you have been warned."

"Oh, cool it, Wheezy," Santana grumbled and rolled her eyes. "Britt and I have adopted a strict No Pre-Performance Policy."

Mercedes made a noncommittal sound of acknowledgement before she drifted off to sleep. Santana twisted all the way to her other side and whispered warmly into her girlfriend's ear.

"Now, after the show is a completely different story."

... ... ...

The Troubletones opened the competition on Friday afternoon, singing the first of three numbers the club had selected for their performance: Edge of Glory by Lady Gaga. It was a foreign feeling for Quinn to be standing among them, but she could sense the passion and determination of each person on that stage and it helped bring out her own competitive edge.

Everyone was at their most confident and commanding, and soon the audience was utterly enthralled. Among all of the girls putting their hearts and souls on the line and giving it everything they had, Santana shone the brightest. She was so confident standing at the forefront of the group that anyone not familiar with the New Directions' history would have believed she had been their star performer from the start.

The Troubletones filed off the stage and waited in the wings. Rachel was hovering just out of sight behind the curtain, peering anxiously at the seat that she was hoping Madam Tibideaux might occupy. She still wasn't there. Quinn saw the way Rachel was nervously twiddling the ends of her hair between her fingers and holding her breath.

"Hey," Quinn whispered urgently. "Don't worry about her."

"I'm not worried," Rachel insisted unconvincingly. "I was just sort of hoping."

Quinn rested her head against Rachel's and held the other girl's hands in hers.

"Just clear your mind," Quinn instructed. "Don't consider this performance the end of an era; look at it as the first song of the rest of your life. This is your chance to show off how much you've grown over the last four years and to announce your formidable talent to the world. Knock 'em dead."

She winked and gave Rachel a gentle push in the direction of the stage. Then Quinn circled around and stepped back into the audience's view herself, taking her position alongside a couple of the other supporting vocalists. Quinn, Tina, and Sugar stood tall in the shadows while a dramatic blue light was thrown down in a circle around Rachel's feet.

As Rachel began her rendition of Celine Dion's It's All Coming Back to Me Now, the power behind her voice was enough to make anyone shiver. It was the sort of performance that both inspired awe and touched a special place in each audience member's heart. Then Quinn noticed movement just outside the range of the stage lights and she nearly gasped. There, slowly shuffling toward one of the seats in the first few rows, was Carmen Tibideaux. Rachel noticed this too and, so unlike her anxiety on the day of her audition, she stared the woman right in the face and belted the lyrics as though they were springing to life from the very depths of her soul.

When Rachel received a standing ovation, it took all of Quinn's self control not to burst into proud tears right there in front of everyone. Thankfully, their next song began almost immediately after and the high energy of the number took her mind off the rush of emotion. Paradise By the Dashboard Light left them all sweating and panting for air, but it was met with a fresh wave of applause and cheers from their audience.

"Did you see her? Did you see?" Rachel asked excitedly once they had left the stage. "She came! Madame Tibideaux - she heard me really sing!"

Quinn nodded and brushed Rachel's hair back from her face.

"I knew you could do it," she declared with a broad grin.

Rachel threw her arms around Quinn's shoulders and buried her face in the crook of the other girl's neck.

"I wouldn't have gotten here without you," Rachel whispered into Quinn's ear.

"Yes, you would," Quinn argued positively. "But I'm glad I got to be here to see it happen for myself."

... ... ...

Finally winning Nationals was unlike anything Santana ever could have imagined. When they announced the New Directions' victory into the microphone and the confetti came raining down, it was as if they were outside of time and the rest of the world had collectively stopped to let them savor this moment so they could treasure it forever. The trophy was perfect, tall and glittering gold. Mr. Schuester held it high for the whole club to see while everyone exchanged hugs and smiles of tearful joy.

Special as that day was, what they enjoyed most of all was returning to the halls of McKinley the subsequent Monday afternoon. There were congratulatory banners and streamers, and the jocks threw 'slushies' of confetti over them as they entered the school.

The New Directions were absolutely beside themselves to be greeted so warmly. It made their triumph even sweeter. Intoxicated by the thrill of this reception, Mike stole a quick kiss from Tina and Puck disappeared to make out with Mackenzie. Surrounded as they were by smiling and clapping classmates, Santana found that she was also feeling exceptionally bold.

She caught Brittany in her arms, dipped her backward, and smiled.

"Hey," she murmured softly.

"Hi," Brittany giggled.

They closed their eyes as their lips met and momentarily forgot about everything else but the feeling of being enfolded in one another's arms.

The club took their trophy to the choir room and stowed it safely in the display case. Then they opened bottles of sparkling cider and passed the rest of the school day in each other's company. Quinn stood near the piano taking in the scene and breathed deeply as she tried to process the fact that their triumph in Chicago was real.

"This club sure has turned over a new leaf," Quinn remarked to Rachel as her girlfriend returned from the hallway. "We've been on a winning streak that none of us would have believed we could achieve back when we were sophomores. Britt won her last Motocross race, the Cheerios won their National championship, Puck passed his test retake, and now this. It's like we finally went through enough crap to have officially paid our dues, and now we get to enjoy the rewards."

"Exactly," Rachel concurred. "I just signed my first autograph in somebody's yearbook. The girl literally skipped away hugging it to her chest. I keep thinking that I must be dreaming. Oh! Speaking of the yearbook, have you seen page 106?"

Quinn shook her head. Rachel flipped to the aforementioned page and held it out for the other girl to see. There, at the center of the Cheerios, flanked by Brittany on her left and Santana on her right, was a smiling Quinn Fabray holding the squad's Nationals trophy. Quinn grinned at the photograph and traced her fingertip over the place where her name was typed in the image's caption.

"Will you sign it for me?" Rachel asked quietly.

Quinn nodded and accepted the permanent marker Rachel had produced from her purse. She tapped the marker against her chin while she thought it over, and then removed the cap to write in the margin.

"The only thing better than earning the right to hold this trophy was earning the chance to hold your hand. All my love, Quinn."

Quinn handed the yearbook back to her girlfriend. Rachel read over the sentiment with eager eyes and gripped the pages tightly. Her lips silently mouthed 'all my love' and Quinn heard her sniffle and draw a shuddering breath. As Rachel's eyes lifted to look into hers, Quinn shrugged self-consciously.

The yearbook was set aside on a stool and the pen was tossed on top of it. Then, without a word, Rachel grabbed Quinn's denim jacket and spun her around until they were facing each other. She kissed her so passionately that Quinn was thrown backward and accidentally sat on the piano keys. The clang of the ivories caused the rest of the club to turn and stare in their direction.

"S-sorry, guys," Quinn stammered with a blush. "That wasn't quite the way we planned on announcing this."

"Announcing what?" Mercedes demanded. "That you two are dating? Oh, please. We haven't seen two girls hanging all over each other that much since before Brittany and Santana went public. We put two and two together a while ago."

"She has a point, Q," Santana teased gently. "You guys were even more obvious than Blaine's love for hair gel."

"And this is okay with everyone?" Quinn asked incredulously.

"Of course," Tina said sincerely.

"Hell, yes," Artie seconded.

"Lesbians, holla!" Sugar piped up from where she was toweling sparkling cider out of her hair.

Everyone in the club laughed and the tension immediately diffused. Regardless, Quinn held her breath and waited until she could catch Finn's eye. His mouth appeared pinched at the corners and his shoulders were hunched, but the boy held her gaze. Finn looked from Rachel to Quinn and back again. Quinn could see him sigh as if finally allowing a heavy burden to lift off his chest, and he gave a single nod.

It was not a verbal approval of the match, and Quinn knew there must be plenty of hurt and confusion that Finn was still working through. However, she felt sure the response was Finn's acknowledgement that the two girls he had held closest to his heart during his high school career had found their happiness in each other.

... ... ...

Brittany entered the small office with baited breath. Her arms clung tightly to her green binder and folders as she settled into the vacant chair nearest to the door. The seat behind the wooden desk was empty, but she knew that its occupant would be back any minute.

"Brittany?" Ms. Pillsbury said as she stepped through the doorway. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Yeah," Brittany murmured quietly. "I haven't been back here since the thing with the baby bird, so..."

Emma sat down on her chair and readjusted her name plaque.

"I remember," she acknowledged. "I wanted to apologize to you for that. In hindsight, I drew my own conclusions and didn't let you get a word in edgewise. I'm really sorry that I ambushed you on such a painful subject. It wasn't fair to you."

"That's okay," Brittany forgave and hugged her binder a little tighter. "You were just trying to help."

"Which brings us to this morning," Emma concluded. "What kind of guidance do you need today?"

"It's not for me, actually," Brittany answered. "It's more for my girlfriend. There's something I really want to make happen for her, but I don't know how."

"Okay," Emma said readily and turned toward her shelf of pamphlets. "What sort of problem is it, exactly?"

"I don't think there's gonna be a pamphlet for this one," Brittany told her gently. "I want to get her abuela to love her again."

"Well, that depends," Emma replied. "What made her stop?"

"Finding out that Santana likes girls."

"Oh," Emma mumbled and allowed her hand to lower back to her lap again. "That does present a pretty big problem."

"I know," Brittany sighed dejectedly. "I mean, it doesn't have to happen all at once or anything. I know she's gonna need time but, if I could just get her to come to graduation, at least that'd be a start."

Ms. Pillsbury nodded and folded her hands atop the desk.

"Well, sweetie, I think the best thing you can do in a sensitive situation like this one is to speak to the other individual directly. Nothing makes quite as good an argument as being able to hear the sincerity behind a person's voice, especially when you're trying to make an argument on behalf of someone you love."

"That's it?" Brittany queried incredulously. "I just talk to her?"

"That's it," Emma confirmed. "It's the best you can do."

"What do I do if Alma Lopez shuts me out?" Brittany fretted. "She kicked Santana out when she told her."

"You know what they say," Emma told her. "If at first you don't succeed, try, try again."

Brittany nodded slowly.

"I've got to do my best," Brittany said to herself. "It's what Santana wants more than anything. Even if it's out of reach, it's one of her dreams. That means I've got to try to make it come true. If it takes every day from now until we get our diplomas, I'll do it."

"That's the spirit!" Emma cried enthusiastically and reached across the desk to pat Brittany's hand reassuringly.

"Thanks, Ms. Pillsbury." Brittany smiled a little. "I think maybe I just needed a pep talk before I drove over there. She can be kinda scary."

Brittany rose and walked toward the door. Just before she stepped out into the hall, she turned back to the guidance counselor.

"Oh! Congratulations on getting tenure," Brittany said. "You even beat out Mr. Schue. That's pretty cool."

"Thank you," Emma beamed. "He was very proud of me when he found out the news. Actually, truth be told, I was pretty proud of me, too."

"I hope I can make Santana proud that way, if I achieve something like this that we thought was impossible," Brittany admitted.

"I'm sure you already have," Emma told her. "And this last, big surprise will be the pièce de résistance. Santana is very lucky to have someone who would brave so much for her sake."

Brittany shrugged self-consciously as her cheeks turned pink.

"I love her," Brittany stated plainly. "My happiness doesn't count as much to me unless she's happy, too."

... ... ...

"I don't know if I can do it."

Rachel and Quinn were sitting cross-legged on the bed and both staring at the envelope in Rachel's hands.

"It's the only way we'll know," Quinn said softly. "Whatever that paper says, you and I will take it as it comes. No matter what, we know we have a plan. It can't stop you from getting out of this town and chasing after your dreams."

Rachel squared her shoulders and nodded. She pried the envelope open and drew the letter out with shaking hands. Quinn balled her hands into fists and pressed them both against her mouth while she held her breath. The silence in the room when the other girl read the message was stifling.

"Rachel?" Quinn voiced tentatively after a moment.

"I'm in," Rachel said.

She hastily read the acceptance again, afraid to let herself believe.

"They said yes," Rachel confirmed. "I'm going to NYADA!"

Quinn shrieked and threw her arms around her girlfriend's neck. Rachel accidentally dropped the letter and it drifted to the bedroom floor. She ran her fingers through Quinn's hair and kissed her again and again.

"You made it," Quinn said proudly.

"Thanks at least partially to you," Rachel beamed.

Quinn shook her head adamantly.

"I may have sung your praises, but it was listening to your voice that won over Madam Tibideaux. This victory is all yours, Rachel."

They kissed again and Rachel swiped her leg sideways to clear the stuffed animals off the mattress. Quinn's eyes followed her movement and she licked her lips.

"Did you want to call your dads to tell them the good news?" she asked feebly.

"It can wait," Rachel said. "I'll tell them in person when I get home."

Her mouth found Quinn's neck and she lightly nipped at the exposed skin. Quinn groaned and raked her nails under the back of Rachel's shirt. Rachel grabbed fistfuls of Quinn's blouse and tugged in opposite directions until the buttons popped out of their holes and the other girl's torso was exposed. They shed their clothes with clumsy haste and left them strewn around the bed.

Rachel fell onto Quinn and dragged her mouth over every inch of flesh that she could reach while her hips rolled between her girlfriend's thighs. Quinn caressed Rachel's arms and sides and nuzzled her cheek. They kissed again and Rachel tugged on Quinn's lower lip with her teeth. She grabbed both of Quinn's hands, wove their fingers together, and held her girlfriend's palms down as she thrust harder.

Quinn's hair matted against her damp forehead and her parted lips as she hungrily gulped in mouthfuls of air. Her legs wrapped around Rachel's back and locked at the ankle.

"If this is how we celebrate your acceptance into college,' Quinn panted. "I can't wait to see what happens when you win your first Tony."

Rachel laughed and released her hold on Quinn's hands. Instead, she gripped the other girl's shoulders and thrust so hard that both their heads smacked against Quinn's headboard. They winced and giggled, covering one another's mouths as they tried to stifle the sound.

"Sorry I kind of killed the mood," Rachel murmured apologetically.

"Not at all," Quinn assured. "Actually, I may have an idea."

She disentangled her limbs from Rachel's and swung her legs over the edge of the mattress. Quinn knelt on the carpet and beckoned with a crook of her finger. Rachel's brow furrowed, but she did as Quinn had silently commanded. She perched on the side of the bed and shivered when her girlfriend pushed her thighs apart. Quinn wrapped her arms around Rachel's legs and took a deep breath. Her tongue slid out of her mouth and flattened over Rachel's sensitive, private skin.

Rachel gasped and held Quinn's short blonde hair tightly in her fists. She rocked into the touch and tilted her head back. Her knees clamped and she let herself fall back onto the sheets. Rachel ran her hands up her own torso before reaching over her head to hold onto the far side of the mattress. Her knuckles turned white and her chest heaved. A scream was building inside her lungs, rising up her throat and threatening to echo through the quiet room. It was only by throwing her forearm across her mouth that Rachel was able to keep it from escaping. Quinn clung onto Rachel's thighs as the other girl's muscles contracted.

She waited until Rachel's body was still again, and then climbed back up onto the bed. Quinn straddled Rachel's waist and kissed her deeply.

"What did you think?" she purred into her girlfriend's ear.

"I think I wish I had another letter to open so we had an excuse to do that again," Rachel joked.

Quinn chuckled and rested their foreheads together. She kissed the end of Rachel's nose and grinned.

"We could reread the one on the floor and just pretend to be surprised," Quinn suggested with a waggle of her eyebrows as her fingertip trailed between Rachel's breasts.

Rachel teasingly pretended to consider the idea and nodded.

"I think I could pull that off."

... ... ...

Brittany pulled into the driveway of the humble two-story house on Superior Court. She took the key out of the ignition and exited the car. The place looked drastically altered in the light of day - much more cheerful and welcoming - so different from how she remembered it on the night that Santana crumpled in the yard. Brittany knew better now than to let appearances deceive her. She held her head high and clenched her jaw with determination as she knocked.

Her summons was answered a moment later and Brittany saw Abuela Alma through the screen door. Alma Lopez's eyes widened at first, but then her features set in a harsh scowl. She slammed the door shut before Brittany could say anything. Brittany breathed slowly through her nose and shook her head, but she did not allow this initial response to discourage her.

Brittany rang the doorbell and folded her arms across her chest. There was no answer at all this time.

"I'm not going away," Brittany declared loudly. "I'll wait out here all day to speak to you, if I have to."

She settled on the front stoop and took the purse off her shoulder. Brittany fished around for the pen and black notebook Santana had bought her for Christmas. She leafed through it to a page with several scribbled out lines and tried again to think how she would begin her speech as class president at their graduation.

"I could have you arrested, you know."

Brittany jumped so hard that her pen flew from her hand. She gathered her belongings and stuffed them back into her purse. When Brittany turned to face the older woman, Alma was standing behind the screen with her palms flat against the door frame.

"I know," Brittany admitted. "But all I want is to talk. Please, Mrs. Lopez, I promise not to take too much of your time."

Alma looked up and down the street. She sighed heavily and nodded.

"For the sake of avoiding another scene," Alma begrudgingly conceded. "You can come into the house."

"Thank you," Brittany said gratefully.

Once she was inside the living room, Brittany sat on a recliner and clasped her hands in her lap. Alma settled in her rocking chair and lifted her eyebrows expectantly. It was an expression so like Santana's that it made Brittany's heart ache.

"So?" Alma asked tersely. "How is she?"

"Better than she was that night," Brittany answered. "But she still misses you. Every day."

Alma ran her tongue over her teeth and glanced at her mantlepiece. Brittany noticed that at least half of the pictures had been placed face-down, photographs that she remembered for a fact had featured Santana. She frowned and readjusted her purse strap before addressing the woman again.

"I came here to ask you for a favor," Brittany said. "Not for me, but for the granddaughter that you used to love more than any of the rest of your family. She needs you."

Alma's lips pressed together in a thin line. Her head bobbed once to indicate that she was listening and that Brittany could proceed.

"Our graduation is at the end of this week," Brittany continued. "And, even though I get that you need time to adjust to everything she told you, I know that it would mean the world to Santana if you would come see her get her diploma."

"What Santana does or does not want from her life is no longer any of my concern," Alma stated coldly. "She made her choice and the tie between us has been severed."

"It isn't a matter of choice," Brittany argued. "Santana was being honest with one of the people she loves most on the planet. She was looking for comfort and understanding and she came to you, just like she did so many times when we were kids. The only choice was the one that you made to push her away when she needed you the most."

Alma's eyes blazed and she dug her fingers into the arms of her chair.

"And you say that how Santana feels doesn't matter to you, but I don't buy it," Brittany plowed on before her courage had the chance to slip away. "Otherwise, why not just throw those old pictures away, or burn them, or put them in a box? But you kept them out where you're reminded that they exist, that she exists. Only you couldn't handle having her eyes looking at you after the way you treated her that night, so you turned them over where it wouldn't feel like she was watching."

This presumption was too much for Alma to bear in silence. She rose to her feet and paced back and forth across the carpet, gesturing with her hands and ranting heatedly.

"¡La audacia de esta chica!" Alma fumed. "¡En mi casa, bajo mi techo! Ella cree que sabe mucho. ¿Quién es ella para hacerlo?"

"Quien ama Santana más que nadie," Brittany interjected.

Alma drew up short. She stared at the teenager who was looking back at her so defiantly.

"We've been in each other's lives since we were five going on six years old," Brittany said. "I understand Spanish, Mrs. Lopez. I'm not always the best speller because I forget accent marks, but I know what the words mean when I hear them."

Alma shook her head and sat back down in her chair. She rocked furiously and avoided eye contact.

"Please," Brittany begged. "From one person who loves her to another. I know that how much you cared for Santana hasn't just gone away. It's still in there. She meant too much to you for you to accept never seeing her again."

She strode over to the fireplace and plucked one of the framed photographs off the mantlepiece. It was a picture of Alma and Santana hugging one another on her fifteenth birthday. Brittany held it in front of Santana's grandmother.

"Look at her," Brittany commanded. "Look at both of you. See how she is hugging you in this picture? Santana doesn't let almost anyone that close to her, but you had her heart. You still do. She admires you so much, even after what happened. If you would just put your denial aside, I know she would want your relationship back. Santana would literally welcome you with open arms."

Alma glanced at the photograph and clamped her teeth together.

"All things pass, in time," she declared stubbornly. "Some sooner than we expected. I see a child who once meant a great deal to me, but that girl does not exist anymore."

"Yes, she does!" Brittany disputed passionately. "Santana is still out there and she will be in that auditorium on Friday night, looking for you. If you really treasured her as much as you say then, at least for the sake of what you used to share, come and support her. You don't even have to bring her a gift or say anything. Just let her see your face, let her hear you clap when she's coming back down off that stage. Give her that much. When your life is over, do you really think that this grudge is going to bring you peace? Or would you rather have your granddaughter at your side, holding your hand and looking back on all the years you shared together, years you would have missed if you'd let pride get in the way?"

Brittany's eyes shone brightly with unshed tears. Unbidden, her knees had bent and she was now kneeling before Santana's abuelita, pressing the photograph into her open hands.

"Just think about it," Brittany concluded softly.

Then she stood and walked out of the house, shutting the door behind her. Alma held the picture and traced Santana's face with her thumb. As she looked at the smiling girl in the dusty image, a tear rolled down her nose and splashed onto the glass.

... ... ...

"I'm so nervous," Quinn confessed as she looked at the exterior of the school.

"Don't be," Frannie comforted. "You're going to be great."

"Your speech is solid," Alisha added. "Heartfelt yet on-point."

Quinn's brow furrowed.

"I didn't show you -"

"The papers were set on the table in the foyer and I got curious," Alisha admitted. "They were right there! I couldn't resist."

Quinn chuckled and hugged Alisha to soothe her conscience.

"It's okay," Quinn forgave readily. "I'm glad to know I pulled that much off, at least. Now I just need to keep my nerves in check while I read it, and then it will be all right."

They walked under the front awning and entered the building. The halls were crowded with soon-to-be graduates and their families gradually making their way toward the auditorium.

"Your friends are here," Judy noted.

Quinn brightened when she caught sight of Brittany and Santana with their graduation gowns draped over their arms. She waved and they immediately walked over to join her.

"This is it, huh?" Quinn asked breathlessly.

"The Unholy Trinity," Santana said in a sing-song voice as she took first Quinn's hand and then Brittany's. "Starting together, ending together."

"Just the way it should be," Brittany beamed.

Quinn held out her arms and both of her best friends hugged her simultaneously, one on either side. They laughed as they nearly lost their balance in their high heels.

"Oh, before I forget," Quinn said. "There's a couple I'd like you guys to meet."

She led her friends to where her family was watching near the door. Quinn gestured first to her sister and then the woman at her side.

"Santana, Brittany, this is my sister, Frannie, and her fiancée, Alisha," Quinn introduced.

"We've heard so much about you," Santana told Frannie.

"Likewise," Frannie smiled.

"You're the one who offered to help get me an internship," Brittany said to Alisha.

"That I did," Alisha acknowledged. "I heard you both got into the programs you were after in Chicago. Congratulations!"

"We wouldn't have even heard of that place without you," Santana replied. "Seriously, thank you so much. We were afraid we'd end up so far away from each other and get stuck trying to coordinate weekend visits. You found a way we could live under the same roof, in the same dorm. We owe you big time."

Santana went to reach for Alisha's palm with her left hand but, realizing her mistake, switched to her right.

"Looks like your girlfriend isn't the only one I have something in common with," Alisha realized and extended her own left arm.

Santana switched back to her dominant hand and laughed.

"Lefties do it right," Alisha winked.

Santana's nose scrunched. She felt Brittany hug her free arm and leaned her head on her girlfriend's shoulder.

"Well, I guess we'd better get to the gymnasium," Quinn concluded. "That's where they've got us all putting on our gowns before the ceremony. Are you guys ready?"

Brittany and Santana nodded. They made their rounds hugging their families and then departed. The girls met up with the rest of the Glee Club and their fellow seniors in the gym. The low roar of voices filled the room all the way to the ceiling and reverberated off the walls. They were surrounded by a sea of red and black as the students began donning their gowns, caps, and sashes.

Rachel helped Quinn put on her gold sash for receiving a 4.0 GPA. Then Quinn carefully adjusted Rachel's red and gold cords for National Honor Society until they were perfectly even.

"I can't believe it's really happening," Rachel marveled. "No more classes, no more Glee Club. We're leaving McKinley."

Quinn held both of Rachel's hands in hers.

"One step closer to everything you've ever wanted," Quinn murmured.

Rachel stepped nearer to her girlfriend and gave her a playful smile.

"Yes, I am."

"Kiss for luck?" Quinn requested quietly.

"My pleasure."

Rachel held onto the other girl's shoulders and kissed her. Quinn wrapped her arms around Rachel's back and returned the kiss.

"Okay, everybody!" Ms. Pillsbury called as she entered the gym. "It's time to make our way to the auditorium, so if you could please form two lines just like we practiced earlier this week, we'll get started."

Coach Beiste whistled sharply to make sure they had everyone's attention.

"Okay, guys and gals, one line here alongside the bleachers, the other line midway across the court. Then we'll file out of here two-by-two, Noah's arc style, got it?"

The students followed her directions and divided in half. Their chatter died down as it slowly sank in that the moment had finally arrived. Soon the ceremony would commence and, within the next couple of hours, they would be leaving high school forever.

Quinn led the way with Missy Gunderson, the Salutatorian, at her side. They walked through the back entrance into the auditorium, breaking apart into two lines again to appear before the audience on house left and house right. As they came into view, two juniors were waiting beside the curtan with bundles of the class flower, a yellow zinnia, which they handed off to the graduates individually. Then the seniors took their seats in the folding chairs that had been erected for them on the stage. It was a bit of a tight fit, getting the entire class up there together, but the teachers were left with just enough room for their own chairs, the piano, and a podium.

Principal Figgins addressed the present family and friends before turning the microphone over to Missy for her Salutatory Address and Opening Reflection. Quinn tried her hardest to listen, but it was very difficult to concentrate on the words when her own heartbeat was nearly drowning them out altogether. All-too-soon, Missy returned to her seat and it was Quinn's turn to rise. She cast a glance down the line at Rachel, who leaned forward and crossed her fingers.

Quinn anxiously adjusted her cap and approached the podium. She took a deep breath and lowered the mic so that it was a few inches below her mouth.

"This is supposed to be the part of the proceedings where I impart some treacly, worn-out wisdom to my fellow graduates. I'm meant to bolster your confidence and make you smile with fluffy, filler sentiments. I don't want to do that today. We all know the underlying realities. College costs an arm, a leg, your two front teeth, and probably your first ten years' wages. The job market is discouraging at best, impossible to enter at worst. You know what, though? We've been here with each other for the past four years and, in that time, we have seen each other at our highest and lowest points. We have cheered for our winning teams until we lost our voices and cried on each other's shoulders until we had no more tears left to shed, and do you know what that's taught me? It's that all of us, each and every one, has the strength to face that big and unforgiving world.

Take it from me; you will stumble and there will be times that you fall. There is no shame in that. There will be other opportunities. Just because your life takes a detour does not mean that you have derailed and, even if you have, it does not mean that you can't get yourself back on track. The important thing to remember is that it truly is okay to ask for help. It is also okay to change your mind. Maybe you're starting out believing you're a certain person, or you have a very clear idea in your mind of who you want yourself to be, but that doesn't mean that at some point some other option won't start to sound better. Don't place restrictions on yourself. Never tell yourself that you have to stop dreaming. The dreams are what make it worth getting up in the morning, even on the darkest days.

Lastly, I know that a lot of these speeches usually feature a section where they tell you that we'll look back fondly on our times here. I suppose, for some of us, that will be true. There will also be times that we look back with regret, dwelling on all the woulda-shoulda-couldas. If there's one thing I would want to impart to you, my fellow seniors, it's not to listen to that voice that tells you that you missed your chance. With another tomorrow comes another try to claim those moments of happiness that the world has to offer you. Don't tell yourself that you wasted your life when you still have so much of it left to live. Because, if there is anything I have learned with absolute certainty in my years at McKinley, it's this: you can't change your past, but you can let go and start your future."

Quinn returned to her seat and sighed with relief that she had made it through the most nerve-wracking part of the ceremony. Rachel caught her eye and silently clapped and nodded. Her approval brought a faint blush to Quinn's cheeks.

Then all the New Directions stood and walked to the edge of the stage to sing McKinley's Alma Mater. When that was finished, one of the juniors brought Puck his guitar and he led the club in singing the class song chosen by their peers: Glory Days by Bruce Springsteen.

Santana grinned the whole time they performed their very last number as the New Directions. The entire auditorium was on its feet - an unusual sight given the pomp and circumstance of the day - and it was then that she realized, despite all the naysayers they had faced in the halls, that this club would be missed by the people they left behind in Lima.

They returned to their chairs and listened for their names. Coach Sylvester read the list of Outstanding Academic Achievers and Emma took over for the rest of the graduates. Santana tried her hardest not to look out into the sea of faces as she crossed the stage. Instead, she focused on accepting the diploma with her left and shaking hands with her right. Emma smiled and murmured congratulations. Santana thanked her and circled back around to her seat, fighting against the temptation to search for her abuelita in the audience. As she passed the piano, Brad reached out and brushed her arm. Santana blinked in surprise and waited to see why he had wanted her attention. The man licked his lips and shrugged a little, as if to play off any sentimentality in what he had to say.

"You did good, kid," Brad told her gruffly.

Santana felt her airway constrict and was only able to give a shaky smile of gratitude. It was what she had wanted so badly to hear, albeit not from him. Still, having someone like Brad who never spoke to anyone break his silence to bid her his own form of goodbye nearly made Santana lose her composure.

A handful of names after Santana was called, it was time for Brittany to receive her diploma. Given how many times she had been half-convinced this day would never come, crossing the stage felt strangely surreal to Brittany. She accepted the diploma from Emma, opted to forgo the shake in favor of a hug, and held the paper aloft over her head. Near the back of the auditorium, the Pierces cheered and Katy could be heard proudly claiming Brittany as her sibling.

"I love you, Sissy!" Katy shouted enthusiastically.

The audience chuckled and Brittany blew her little sister a kiss. Santana laughed and held her hands over her heart, struggling even more to hold back the tears burning her eyelids.

When all of the students were at last holding their diplomas, it was time for Brittany's presidential address. She approached the podium with a buzz in her ears and her pulse thudding in her head.

"I never thought that there would be a day when I could stand here and speak in front of a group this big all by myself. Honestly, I couldn't even imagine graduating, let alone going to college like I will be in the fall. My entire life, people told me that I was stupid and, after a while, I started to believe them. I think pretty much all of us have that one thing, you know? The part of ourselves that people give us grief about and make us want to hide. But what I figured out is that, a lot of the time, the thing that people pick on us about is the thing that scares them the most. People don't like different. 'Cause if there's somebody walking around being different and unafraid of what makes them stand out, how are they supposed to feel okay about settling for plain old ordinary? So, what I think we've all gotta do is think back for just a second about whatever it was we hated the most about ourselves over these last four years. Is it something we truly want to change, or is it something someone else made us feel like we had to? If it's the first one, then awesome, because we've got the next sixty years of our life to do things differently. But if it's the second, I think we should make a promise to ourselves, right here and right now, that it's the part of ourselves we're going to try the hardest to love. So, as lame as it sounds, don't let the haters get you down. There are always going to be people that want to mess you up, but the only one that can really stand in your way is you. If you don't let that happen, then you'll always find some way to get the life you wished for, even if the way that it plays out is unexpected. Like our class motto says, 'if we cannot find the road to success, we will make one.' So let's go out and make a mark because, even if it's just a tiny dent in reality as it was, it means that someone will know we were here. Ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to present to you the Class of 2012!"

Brittany switched her tassel from the right to the left. The rest of her classmates followed suit and then cheered raucously as they threw their caps into the air. Principal Figgins gave the closing reflection and then it was time for the procession back out of the auditorium while the band played.

When the ceremony was over, the students were allowed to double back and meet up with their families. Rachel ran into her dads' arms and accepted their countless kisses on her cheeks and hair. Brittany swung her sister in circles while Katy giggled. Quinn hugged Frannie tightly and shut her eyes, quietly grateful that her sister was there to share this day.

"I saw Dad," Frannie muttered into Quinn's ear. "He's over there in the back corner."

Quinn's eyes sought him out in the shadows. She saw that he was already watching her with the closest thing to pride she had seen in his features since before he found out that she was pregnant. Quinn hesitantly waved and Russell waved back, clearly grateful that she at least did not ignore him. Frannie eyed her father archly, but she gave him a curt nod of acknowledgement. Russell nodded back. His gaze briefly moved to Judy, but he could not quite meet her eye after the way they had last parted. Russell picked up his jacket, put it back on over his dress shirt, and left the auditorium.

"Well, it's better than nothing," Alisha remarked dryly and wrapped her arm around Frannie's waist.

Quinn nodded and cleared her throat. She reached for her mother's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

A short distance away, Santana was standing with her parents and her little brother. Maribel was trying to hand her daughter an envelope of money she'd been saving just for this occasion, but Santana kept refusing it.

"It's too much," Santana insisted. "What if you need it for something for Ty or you and Dad want to go on a nice trip?"

"We'll be fine," Maribel countered. "And, if you have this, then I'll rest easy knowing that you will be, too. Take it, Santana, and know that every cent was tucked away with love and hope for the future of our only daughter. Just humor your mother, hija. If you don't, you know I'll just tuck it into one of your suitcases when you leave."

Santana sighed, rolled her eyes, and accepted the gift. Then she felt someone tap her shoulder and whirled around to face them. When she saw who it was, Santana very nearly tripped on the back of her gown.

"I brought these for you," Alma Lopez said simply.

She held out a bouquet of purple hyacinths, which Santana immediately accepted to inhale their scent.

"They're beautiful, Abuelita," Santana murmured. "I... I wasn't expecting you to be here today."

"Neither was I," Alma said truthfully. "But your... friend, she makes a very good argument, when she wants to. I still don't think that telling everyone you know is the right idea but after all of your mother's angry messages over the past few months, hearing all that you've endured since the secret was told, it is hard not to admire your courage, nieta. Those trials would have broken a lesser woman, but here you stand tall."

Santana ran her fingertips under her eyelids.

"I got that from you," she choked out around the lump in her throat.

"Yes, I know," Alma said. "You have always listened to what I taught you and taken it to heart. So, I've come to see that, if you would deviate from my lessons to such a degree and risk parting ways for good, then it must be for a very strong reason. These things that you feel, they are permanent?"

Santana nodded.

"And this girl, you are certain that you love her in the way that you said?"

"More than anyone else, Abuelita," Santana wept.

Alma smiled a little to herself.

"That is how she described her feelings for you, although she spoke the words in Spanish."

She wrapped her hand around the cross necklace that hung from her neck and traced it with her thumb. Alma sighed and looked heavenward.

"I have done a great deal of praying over this, Santana. I have tried to keep my mind open to whatever He might tell me. Each time that I knelt and spoke to the Lord, I was waiting for a much more definitive answer than I ever received," Alma confided. "But there was one thing that always rose to the surface when I spoke your name, and that was the love that I have borne for you ever since the day that my son put you in my arms in the hospital. I do not believe that the Savior would want me to forsake that love and harden my heart to you. So I will try, Santana. I will try to put my pride behind me and mend what has been broken between us."

Santana's features contorted with a mixture of remembered grief and a rush of gratitude that the pain was finally at an end. She passed her bouquet to her mother and closed the distance between herself and her grandmother.

"I love you, Abuelita," Santana sobbed and threw her arms around Alma's shoulders.

Alma stiffened for a moment. Her eyes swam with tears before she lowered her lashes and pressed a quick kiss to her granddaughter's forehead.

"I love you, too."

She rubbed Santana's back and then disengaged from the hug. As she left, Alma touched Ernesto's arm and inclined her head in Maribel's direction. Then she waggled her fingers at Matyas and disappeared in the crowd.

Santana watched her go and then turned away. She shook her head in disbelief. Nearby, Brittany was watching with shining trails running down both cheeks and blotches around her mouth. Santana brightened and strode over to her.

"You did that for me?" she asked softly.

Brittany nodded. Santana wrapped an arm around the other girl and pulled her in close. She tugged off Brittany's graduation cap and kissed her.

"God, you're amazing," Santana whispered.

Brittany shrugged and jokingly batted her eyelashes.

"So my girlfriend keeps telling me."

... ... ...

Monday marked the morning when Rachel was scheduled to board a train and travel to New York in search of an apartment where she could live while she attended school there. Her dads had some last minute business to attend to, so they were sending her ahead and would meet up with their daughter late that afternoon. The New Directions knew of this plan and agreed to wait for her on the platform and make sure she boarded safely.

When her watch read 9:45, fifteen minutes before the train was due to depart, Santana fished out her cell phone and texted Quinn.

Where are you?

I'm stuck in traffic, Quinn replied. Promise her that I'm on my way.

Okay. Hurry, though. She won't want to leave without seeing you.

Santana closed her phone and stowed it back in her bag.

"What did she say?" Brittany asked.

"Traffic jam," Santana explained.

They turned as Rachel arrived and walked onto the platform. She hugged each of the club members in turn. Even Finn had shown up to wish her good luck. He whispered a few encouraging words in her ear and kissed her shoulder. Rachel caressed the side of his face and smiled. Kurt was the last to embrace her; he squeezed her tightly and teased that he was jealous. Then Rachel looked around for Quinn and her shoulders sagged when she saw that the other girl wasn't there.

"She'll get here as soon as she can," Santana assured. "She got bogged down by some slow drivers, but Quinn said she's coming."

Rachel nodded. She talked with the other club members for the next ten minutes and gave them her word that she'd send out her new address via mass text once she had chosen the best one. Repeatedly, Brittany saw her checking her watch and glancing hopefully at the nearby parking lot. There was still no sign of Quinn.

"You have to go," Mr. Schuester told her gently. "Can't miss your train."

"I guess so," Rachel conceded. "Just tell her I'll call her tonight, okay? I really wanted to say goodbye..."

"We'll tell her," Brittany offered kindly.

"Better get on or they'll leave you behind," Santana cautioned. "Only three minutes to go."

Rachel waved goodbye one last time and boarded the train.

Meanwhile, at the opposite end of the street, Quinn was finally rounding the corner that brought the station into view. There were still five cars puttering along and blocking her path to the parking lot. Quinn panicked when she saw the time on her dashboard. She hastily pulled over to the side of the road, grabbed the backpack on the passenger seat, and left her car there. Then she slung the pack onto her back and sprinted the rest of the distance between herself and the platform.

"There you are!" Santana exclaimed. "About damn time. Wai- why do you have a book bag? You do realize we graduated three days ago...?"

"I'm going with her!" Quinn panted. "Here, Sugar, quick! Help me get the ticket out of the back pocket!"

Sugar hastily did as she was told and handed the narrow slip of paper to Quinn.

"Thanks," Quinn beamed and raced toward the train. "Wait! Wait, please! I have a ticket."

The conductor hurried her along as he checked his watch. Quinn gave a parting wave to her friends and then moved to find her seat.

"What a popular train this has turned out to be!" someone's voice remarked.

Quinn turned and saw Harmony Gold near the back of the compartment. Her brow furrowed. The other girl opened her vest and pointed to the t-shirt she was wearing, which was emblazoned with large white letters.

"My workshop this summer, remember?" Harmony reminded her. "We aren't the only ones on here, either. I just saw Rachel Berry board a couple of minutes ago."

"You did?" Quinn inquired eagerly. "Where is she sitting?"

"Up near the front," Harmony answered and pointed in that direction. "I think she has a window seat."

Quinn whirled around and strode quickly in that direction. The train lurched beneath her feet and she held onto one of the nearby chairs to maintain her balance. Then she approached the place where a familiar red hat had caught her eye.

"Is this seat taken?"

"Not to my knowledge," Rachel replied as she turned. "It's only me here so far and - Quinn?"

"Surprise," Quinn grinned and took her seat.

"What are you doing here?" Rachel queried. "I thought I wasn't going to hear your voice until I talked to you on the phone tonight."

"It was all a little spurt-of-the-moment," Quinn said. "But this is a chance I had to take."

She reached for Rachel's hands and held them in her own.

"I've been thinking about it, and I don't just want us to be together in New York," Quinn elaborated. "I want us to live together in New York."

A slow smile spread across Rachel's face.

"You want to share an apartment with me, Quinn?"

Quinn nodded and studied her face carefully.

"If that's okay with you."

Rachel kissed the backs of Quinn's palms and then rested their foreheads together.

"Nothing would make me happier."