A/N: I think I should apologize that is has taken me so long to finish this chapter. I just didn't have any inspiration. Fortunately I have exams now and I'll do anything to avoid studying (it's one of my special talents). I hope you forgive me and read the chapter anyway :)

Spotted: Quinn Fabray sneaking off school property. And she is not alone! Accompanied by Mr. Noah Puckerman Q makes her way down town. Where are you going, Q? Trying to hide your secrets again? Please, you of all people should know by now that I have eyes everywhere.

"You'd think she'd leave me alone, since I'm such a loser now." Quinn sighed as she handed Santana her phone back, "But apparently even now I'm more interesting than Rachel Berry. Why are there no stories about her on Gossip Girl?"

"Maybe she is Gossip Girl." Brittany suggested. She took a bite of her sandwich. While chewing her eyes drifted away from Quinn to a place behind her, probably to the table where Mike Chang was seated. Quinn resisted the urge to turn around and gaze at that table too. She wanted to watch Finn for a while. Yesterday they had talked after class for a few minutes. It hadn't been long, because Quinn was still grounded. It hadn't been a very affectionate conversation either, because Finn just wanted to make arrangements in case the baby was his. It had been clear to her that the baby was the only reason he talked to her, not because he still liked her. She had seen the hurt in his eyes, which made her heart break a little too. What had she done to him? She could only imagine how he would feel after reading Gossip Girl's latest post.

"Maybe. Or maybe the world thinks it's very interesting that you and Noah Puckerman, possible father of your child, are sneaking off school property." Santana said. She tilted her head, curiously looking at Quinn, "Where were you going anyway?"

"Nowhere." Quinn said, purposely not looking at Santana or Brittany. Instead she stared at her hands, her nails covered in pink nail polish. Now that she was grounded she had time to do these kind of things, which was probably the only good thing that had come from this situation. If she was going to be a teen mom loser, at least she had perfect nails.

Santana raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything, though by peeking through her eyelashes Quinn could see she really wanted to ask. She focused on her pink nails again, trying not to feel guilty. She couldn't tell Brittany and Santana her last secret. She promised herself that she wouldn't get another person involved in this mess.

"When did this happen anyway?" Santana asked, "Won't your father find out if you skipped class?"

"He would." Quinn sighed. She really hoped her father wouldn't see this post. He would be furious and lock her up in her room forever, or worse, kick her out. That thought came more and more frequently to her. She tried not to think about that possibility, but she couldn't help it. Now she tried to push it away and elaborated on the trip that she had made with Puck, "Puck and I have a free period together, so that's when we sneaked off the school grounds. We took Puck's limo."

"And to where exactly?" Brittany asked curiously.

Quinn sighed again, because she didn't, couldn't answer that question. "Just...nowhere in particular. We drove around New York, watched the city. It was just nice being away from all the stares and whispers. They're everywhere I am and it was just a relief to escape them."

She glanced at Santana and Brittany. Santana's were fixed on the table, but she nodded. Brittany did look at her, with a compassionate glance in her eyes. Quinn breathed out slowly. They bought her lie. They even thought they understood how she felt. She just wanted to escape the hungry eyes of the St. Jude's and Constance students. A feeling of guilt stabbed her heart. She didn't want to lie to the friends she had just reconciled with, but she couldn't help it. She couldn't tell the truth.

"But why taking Puck with you? You could have asked one of us to go with you."

"I...he..." For a moment Quinn didn't know what to say. That was the problem with lies. You had to think of all the details to keep it up. One wrong answer could blow your cover. Fortunately she had had enough practice these last months. "He needed that escape too. It hasn't been easy for him either. He lost his best friend and his other friends barely talk to him. I think that Artie Abrahams is the only friend he has left."

"How ironic." Santana, "The guy he ignored all this time, is the only one who took his side."

Quinn didn't respond immediately. Santana's remark made her feel incredibly sad. Hadn't the same happened to her? She had underestimated people like Rachel Berry and Kurt Hummel. She had thought she was invincible, but life had caught up with her and so had her mistakes. "Lately my whole life seems ironic."

"Come on, Quinny, don't look so sad." Brittany put her hands on Quinn's and gave her an encouraging smile. "You still have us. You're going to be fine."

With a lot of effort Quinn managed to smile at her friend. She appreciated that Brittany wanted to make her feel better, but she didn't really understand. She could handle a break up with Finn. She could handle being ripped of her popularity and followers. She could even handle Gossip Girl's rumors, but in a few months she would have a child and she wasn't ready for that. She didn't expect help from her parents, they were too busy saving their image of the perfect family. She didn't know who the father of the baby was, so she didn't know what to expect from them either. She felt like she was alone in this and in some ways she really was. Brittany and Santana were nice to her, but their problems were nothing compared to hers.

Santana put her hand over Brittany's and Quinn's. "You heard her. You've got us."

Quinn smiled again. She tried. She tried to believe them. She really did. But the only thing that the smile did, was hiding the tears that burned behind her eyes.

"Tell me again why we had to end our shopping spree to come here? You said you didn't like it here." Santana was sitting on a bar stool at the counter in the Pierce's kitchen. Fifteen minutes ago Brittany had suddenly dragged her to her apartment without giving her a good reason for it. Now she was making hot chocolate for the both of them.

"That's because he's here all the time. Now we're home alone. And we can't discuss this in public. I'm sure she has spies everywhere."

"Okay, who exactly are we talking about. Who's 'he'? And who's 'she'?"

Brittany glared at Santana as if she had just asked really the stupidest questions. Santana didn't feel intimidated by that. She just raised an eyebrow and glared back. "He is my father." Brittany explained. Her voice was drenched in bitterness as she said that. Santana wanted to ask about it, but she didn't dare to because Brittany had told her clear enough that she didn't want to speak more about the topic than necessary. "And she is Gossip Girl."

Brittany came over to the counter and put two mugs on it before sliding on the stool next to Santana. Santana covered the mug with her hands, but pulled them back almost immediately because it burned her hands. "And what do we need to discuss exactly?"

Brittany rolled her eyes. "Our plan to destroy Rachel Berry of course."

"Of course." Santana said with a sly smile appearing on her face. She was ready for this. She wanted to see that girl going flat on her face and be as humiliated as they had all been. "Do you have any plans?"

"No." Brittany shrugged, "But I thought you'd come up with something, since you're pretty much a scheming mastermind."

Santana chuckled and tried to hold her mug again, this time she succeeded. "I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not."

"It is." Brittany assured her smiling. After that her smile faded away. Glancing down she fumbled with the handle of her mug. "Do you think I should have invited Quinn to this meeting?"

Santana sighed. "I don't know. Lately she doesn't seem like herself. Not that I'm blaming her. She's expecting a baby and she isn't sure who the father is. She has a lot of stress, so I don't think she's really busy with taking revenge on Rachel." Santana looked at her best friend and added: "I think it's up to us to make a plan."

Brittany nodded and took a sip from her hot chocolate. "My thought exactly. So where do you want to start?"

Santana thought about that for a few moments. "Well, first of all we need to figure out what her weakness is, other than fashion of course. She probably has a few. No one is perfect. And hopefully we'll can also find some juicy gossip on her. But in order to do all of that, we need to think of everything we know about her. And everything we don't know. Do you have a piece of paper?"

Brittany nodded and got up. From a drawer in the living room she retrieved a writing pad and a pen and handed them to Santana. Santana turned to a new, blank page and wrote in an elegant handwriting Rachel Berry at the top of the page. "So what do we know about Rachel?"

"She dresses awful." Brittany immediately said. Santana smiled and wrote the words no sense of fashion beneath Berry's name. "What else?"

"She has two dads and they own that theater on Broadway. And they had that show with Cassandra July. She was in Vanity Fair because of that."

"Any idea what that theater is called?" Santana asked, as she wrote down a list of words that summarized what Brit had mentioned.

"Not a clue."

Santana gave a nod and wrote name? in large letters behind the word theater. They'd have to find out later what the theater of Rachel's parents was called. It didn't seem like relevant information, but Santana thought any information could be useful. She had done some scheming before, but not like this. It had always been about small things: a dress, a role in the school play or a favor she needed from a teacher. Not a plan to destroy someone's life. It was both terrifying and exciting. She needed to prepare this in the best way possible, which meant gathering every little piece of information there was to find about Rachel Berry.

"Didn't they live in Brooklyn?" Santana asked Brittany, her pen hovering above the paper.

Brittany shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I never really took interest in her."

Santana gave her a reassuring smile and pulled out her phone. "Fortunately there's Facebook and Google."

As Brittany got her laptop, Santana already searched Rachel's name on Facebook. They weren't friends on social media and Santana hoped she could keep it that way. However she suspected that their revenge would involve playing nice to the girl that ruined their lives. Her suspicion was confirmed by the fact that you couldn't see everything on Berry's profile if you weren't friends with her. Santana could see her profile picture and some posts she was tagged in. However she couldn't see any other photos or things Rachel had put on Facebook herself. She sighed, her thumb hovering over the 'Befriend' button. Would it be a good idea to add Rachel as a friend? Wouldn't that just make her suspicious? She decided to ask Brit. "Do you think adding Berry on Facebook would be a good idea?"

Brittany put her laptop on the counter next to her empty mug. "Why on earth would you want to be friends on Facebook with Berry?"

"Because she's not stupid." Santana explained, "Only her friends can see certain things she posts on Facebook. And I'm guessing that will apply to more stuff. It would be easier if we befriended her. You know, a "Keep your friends close, keep your enemies closer" sort of thing."

Brit bit her lip as she opened her laptop. She seemed to be thinking about what her friend just had said and Santana could see she had hadn't realized before that they would have to pretend to be friends with Rachel Berry. Even if it was just on Facebook. "Listen," She said in an attempt to comfort her best friend, "this could also work if only one of us would pretend to like her. If you don't want to, I could.."

"No." Brittany said firmly. She had torn away her eyes from her laptop and was now looking straight at Santana, her eyes full of determination. "If you're going to pretend to be friends with Berry, then I'm in too. We're going to do this together. I mean, I don't think asking Quinn for such thing would be a good idea, but I can do this. So if you think this will make getting our revenge easier, then I'm in."

A smile spread across Santana's face, lighting up her whole face. There was this warm fuzzy feeling in her heart that made her feel so happy, like she could burst out in tears of joy any minute. She didn't mind doing it alone, but it was so much better when Brit was by her side. It would make things so much easier. So she held up her pinkie and glanced at Brittany. "I think it will."

How on earth did she get this information? Kurt wondered. It was a Sunday morning. The sun was shining, but it hadn't been able to expel the cold of January yet. Kurt was was wearing at least three layers of clothes and a warm winter coat and it was still cold. He had put his hands in the pockets of his coat in an attempt to warm them. It didn't work. His eyes were on the coffee shop across the street. It was called the Black Bean according to the faded black letters on the window, and it was the shabbiest cafe that Kurt had ever seen. But what did he expect from Queens anyway?

He sighed and crossed the street. Rachel had send him here. "Quinn Fabray is hiding something. I want to know what." She had said to him and she had texted him an address that he needed to check out. It seemed crazy. Quinn Fabray was a seven months pregnant loser. How could she possibly be a threat to Rachel's reputation? Kurt wondered if there was something else to Rachel endless obsession with Quinn Fabray. That was something he needed to find out later. Now he had to focus on this task.

He hesitated before pushing the door of the coffee shop open. He had never been in a place like this in a neighborhood like this. Now he really wished he had actually told Rachel that it was a ridiculous idea instead agreeing with in for the sake of their friendship, or rather alliance.

It wasn't as bad as he'd expected. It looked like one of the cafes Kurt had been in Brooklyn, but shabbier of course. Groups of tables and chairs were spread across the room. The furniture was mixed. Some chairs were new, some old, some were made of wood, some of plastic. The colors of the posters on the walls had faded and looked like they came from the 90s, and so did the music that was quietly playing in the background.

Kurt couldn't imagine Quinn would come here. It was everything she was not. Still he walked in to the coffee shop and sat down at the bar. There were two other people in the room. One was a 40-year-old man who looked like he had been here all night, the other was the bartender. He was young, probably not in his twenties yet, and admittedly quite handsome. He looked up when Kurt sat down, putting the glasses he had been washing, down.

"What can I do for you?" He asked politely, but Kurt noticed that he was being observed closely. He suspected everything about him screamed that he didn't belong in this part of New York.

"A coffee, please. Black."

The bartender gave a nod and started to make a coffee. It was silent in the cafe expect for the moans from the man across the bar. Both the bartender and Kurt ignored him. Kurt studied the menu although he had no intention of ordering anything else than coffee. He thought drinking the coffee was already pretty risky, eating the food here would be one step too far.

The bartender put a cup of coffee in front of Kurt on the bar and continued with what he had been doing before, washing glasses. Kurt took a sip from his coffee and to his surprise it wasn't as bad as he expected. He had put down the menu and now studied the rest of the room. There was no trace that Quinn Fabray had been here and honestly he'd never expected to. The only way to discover, was asking. Kurt was hesitant to do that, since he suspected Quinn was careful. He didn't want her know that they were looking for her secrets. Again. And yet there was no other way to find out. So he approached the bartender again: "Can I ask you something?"

The bartender looked up, a surprised look on his face. He probably hadn't expected Kurt to talk to him. He put down the glass. "Of course."

"Are there others that ever come here?" Kurt asked, "I mean do other people from Manhattan, people like me, ever come here?"

A smile appeared on the bartender's face. It looked good on him, accentuating the pretty features of his face. "Why do you want to know?" The bartender asked in return.

Kurt wondered if he didn't answer his question on purpose. Or maybe it just had been a silly question, because Kurt couldn't believe himself that anyone from the Upper East Side would voluntarily go to this coffee shop. The bartender's question was probably not strange one, but it still took Kurt a few seconds to come up with a good answer. "Because I could use a place where I can escape to." He said with a sigh, "My family is going through some stuff and when I'm in Manhattan everyone knows that. I hate those stares and whispers, so I thought I'd come here, where nobody knows me."

The bartender nodded slowly. "Yeah, I've heard before how horrible that can be."

Kurt almost fell off his stool when he heard the bartender say that. Could Rachel's information be true after all? Of course there were more people than Quinn Fabray that had fled Manhattan because of their problems, but it made Rachel's statement a little more believable. Kurt hoped he hid his surprise well enough and asked as casual as possible: "Really?"

"Yup." The bartender said, "A friend of a friend of mine is in the same situation. She's done some stupid things and she says the people won't leave her alone."

Kurt nodded understandingly, but his heart was pounding. The bartender was speaking in present tense about this person and it was a woman. How much of a coincidence could it be? He wanted to ask if it was Quinn, but he didn't dare to. If Quinn was a friend of a friend of the bartender's, then there was a chance she would hear about his visit to this cafe. "That sucks. Does she come here often? Because you know, we might know each other and I'd rather have a place where really no one knows me. And from what you tell me, I think she'd prefer it that way too."

"I understand. She doesn't come very often, so I think you'd be safe here." The bartender smiled again and again Kurt noticed that it looked good on him. "And I won't tell her about you, if you don't want me to."

"That'd be nice." Kurt said and he smiled back at the bartender. "I'm Kurt, by the way."

"Is it smart to tell me that?" The bartender asked and he winked. Kurt's face turned red. Was this guy flirting with him? He didn't know what to think of it, especially because again, this guy was quite handsome.

The bartender didn't seem to notice Kurt's flushed face - or maybe he did and he chose not to say anything about it. Still smiling he held out his hand. "Just kidding. My name is Blaine."

A/N: I hope you liked that last bit. I did very much haha. A review would be very much appreciated!