I swear I'm trying not to upload chapters by twos, but that keeps happening! I get bursts of inspiration and boom. I hope it's not annoying. =P


Three weeks came and went, and soon Quinn and Artie had been "dating" for over almost two months. The two dressed their fake relationship to the nines. They delivered every promised romantic selfie, Skype call with Artie's parents, and even made it Facebook official. They had everyone fooled, and it was a nice little secret for their close-knit group of friends to keep. Mercedes was exhausted by the charade, but Sam found it hilarious. And, well, Quinn and Artie? They were taking their amusement in it, as well. Artie had cast his ex-girlfriend in his short film, hoping it'd gain publicity that way, since she was kind of a big deal in the heiress scene. The more Quinn saw the two together, the more she realized that Sugar was his Puck. He gave languid glances at her, trying to figure out what could have been, had she not broken his heart. Quinn wondered if that was what she looked like around Puck. It probably was. But she was having a good time with Artie, putting on a show for everyone, kissing him whenever Puck was around, rubbing their precious romance in everyone's face, when really, she went home to a pleasantly empty apartment and slept alone. It was kind of hilarious to her that everyone who seemed to care about her love life was now shut up, and she wasn't even in a relationship. The joke was truly on them.

Once a week, though, the two made it a point to not be around anyone and just chill. It got a little tiresome at times. Most days they chilled alone, but today they decided to hang out, just the two of them, in the coffee shop where they'd originally met. They couldn't enjoy their "date" (for lack of better term), though, because both of their phones were ringing off the hook.

"Well I'm going to need those lights by the nineteenth of August, or I'm going to have a live outdoor band performing in the dark, and no one will be able to see the glorious stage you guys have provided me as well. We wouldn't want that, now would we?" Quinn asserted into her phone. She tried not to sound like Charlotte Pickles, barking into a cell phone and manipulating those on the other end, but it was hard in the business she was in. Sometimes she had to be a bitch, and that was okay.

Across from her, Artie was having his own ordeal. "What do you mean you can't make Thursday? I cleared all day just to shoot your death scene, and you're bailing on the shoot. Okay, yeah, that makes total sense. Buddy, I hate to be that director, but if you don't make it on Thursday , I'ma have to recast you. This film is too important to me for anyone who doesn't take it seriously."

The two shared an exasperated glance, begging the other for savior. Suddenly, Quinn was reminded of the day they blew up the balloons, and formed an idea. She held her hand out for Artie's phone, and handed him her own.

She held it up to her ear and spoke to the furiously apologizing actor. "Hello, sir, this is Mr. Abrams' assistant and he is exhausted by you. You are free to call him back later, maybe he'll change his mind. Goodbye." Somewhere in there, Artie got the hint, and began his own conversation with the company she was renting the stage and lights from.

"Uh, yes, this is Ms. Fabray's assistant and she had to get called into a meeting. You may call back and negotiate later, but I highly recommend you get her those lights by the nineteenth, or she may have to buy them elsewhere. Goodbye." He hung her phone up, and finally, Quinn was able to breathe.

She chuckled at the guy and held a hand up for a high five. "Ugh, thank you." She groaned as he slapped her hand.

"No, thank you. It was your idea." Artie huffed back. "I never knew making a movie was such hard work. Actors are such brats."

At that, his cell phone vibrated in Quinn's hand. She raised a brow and handed it to him, but Artie scrunched his nose and refused, pushing it back to her. "Read it to me. If another thing goes wrong today, I'll scream." Quinn gave a small chuckle, for she definitely knew how he felt, and opened up the text message.

"It's Sugar." She warned him. She saw a glimmer of something in Artie's eye, but it was quickly gone as he signaled for her to go on. Quinn began reading it aloud.

Sugar: Gonna be late to rehearsal today, but that's totes okay cause I'm going on a Starbucks run to make it up to you. Vanilla latte, extra whip, just like old times, right? ;)

Quinn did her best Sugar Motta impression as she read it, to mask her feelings of exasperation. Sugar was possibly the most annoying girl she'd ever met. And, to be honest, she saw her as a bit of a threat. The girl didn't seem to care that Artie was taken, she flirted with him anyway. He'd gotten better with not letting her get away with it, but still, she persisted. If Sugar ended up winning him back, Quinn would be without her shield.

"That impression was spot-on." He chuckled at her, a bit uncomfortably. "Tell her that I'd love one, but I'm out on a coffee date with the gee eff and I don't wanna be too caffeinated."

The fact that he was trusting her with his text messages made Quinn smile. That was when you knew you were entering true friendship, and she was kind of honored. But, of course, she couldn't do it without having a little fun, first.

"I'd love to," she recited out loud, pretending to type into the touch screen of his phone, ",but looking at you hurts with the intensity of a thousand suns. I'm still in love with you, Sugar-" at that, Artie lunged to the best of his ability across the table, laughing.

"Alright, no more texting privileges for you." He chuckled, but Quinn held the phone out of his reach.

"You shouldn't have trusted me. Maybe I'm secretly in love with you and want to sabotage every relationship in the way." She teased through giggles.

Artie gave a mock-shocked expression, and took Quinn's phone into his own hands. "Okay, two can play at this game. Hmm…I wonder how Puck would react if you told him you were still madly in love with him and his mohawk."

Just thought put a red tinge in Quinn's cheeks. "That's not funny." She chuckled, reaching over at him, mentally cringing at the idea, but still able to laugh. Once upon a time, just the idea would probably make her start to cry, but…recently, she'd been able to laugh about the whole Puck ordeal. Did that mean she was completely over him?...Not necessarily, but she was getting there, and Quinn was sure she had Artie to thank. He leaned back as far as he could and continued to fake-scroll through her phone. Quinn stood from her seat and ran around the small table, attempting to pluck the phone from his hands, but he kept a firm grip.

"But I have to confess your undying love to Santana." Artie teased. At that, the two fell into a fit of hilarity, thanks to which Quinn got her phone back, but couldn't seem to stop laughing. Artie was as well, and it just felt nice to laugh off the troubles of their jobs and their exes and just…everything. Quinn nearly fell into his lap when a waitress came over and cleared her throat, trying to get their attention. The two quieted down, but were still repressing giggles –was she going to kick them out for being too loud? How embarrassing.

"Um…Fridays are Sweetheart days, and couples get a free cupcake." She placed a small, pink-frosted cupcake with two forks on the table and walked away.

Artie tossed his head back and raised his arms over his head in triumph. "Free cupcakes? People in relationships have it made." He commented, taking a fork and digging in. Quinn stood to return to her side of the table. She found it hilarious, but also kind of strange…they weren't even pretending to be a couple right now. They were just hanging out. Had they gotten that good? It was flattering, but…kind of scary.

She sat back down in her seat, thinking of this. Artie seemed to notice that she was lost in her own thoughts and snapped his fingers before her.

"You alright?" he asked, finishing his half of the cupcake. Quinn declined the other piece with a wave of her hand and shrugged.

"Yeah, it's just…I didn't know we were…coupling today." She shrugged, trying to make light of this idea that made her slightly uncomfortable.

Artie pursed his lips and pondered. "We aren't." he nodded, catching her drift and growing uncomfortable himself as he picked half-heartedly at the cupcake. "I guess we've just become experts." He smirked, pushing crumbs around the plate with a fork. Quinn nodded at his explanation, figuring it was good enough. She shouldn't have been worried in the first place. Of course they were going to end up slipping into couple-mode outside of the charade.

"Experts," she repeated thoughtfully. "Well…what's my favorite color?" They'd quizzed each other before, for fun and for authenticity, and it was always something that could make them laugh.

"Turquoise." Artie said instantly. "What's my favorite movie?"

Quinn sucked in a breath as she thought. He loved Fight Club, but always said that his favorite movie was…"…Pulp Fiction!" she nearly shouted once it came to her mind. Artie gave small golf-claps for her accomplishment. "Alright," Quinn continued, "What are my parents' names?"

"Judy and…" This was a trick question. Quinn didn't talk to her father much anymore, let alone talk about him. "…Rowland?" Quinn sucked in air through her teeth, giving Artie a 'close but no cigar' face.

"Close! Judy and Russell." She corrected, at which Artie groaned loudly.

"I totally knew it." He shook his head. "Alright, um…what is the most teeny tiny, trivial little thing you know about me?" he challenged, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning his elbows on the table. Quinn mirrored his action and scanned her brain for the most insignificant piece of information she knew about him. There was the fact that he liked potato chips on his sandwiches, the fact that he'd been cheated on twice, maybe the fact that he's convinced that Carlton Banks is his real father.

But then it came to her.

Quinn leaned back in her seat and plastered the most smug look on her face that she could muster. "You collect Lego sets specifically to build them into what they are not intended to turn out to be. Also, you have a secret soft spot for country music, and you have a lovely singing voice." She threw in those last two just to show off.

Artie gave an impressed nod.

"Okay, same question to you." Quinn challenged, eager to hear what he could come up with.

"Well…" Artie began, ",you have a stuffed monkey that you sleep with, horror movies about possession and demons terrify you, and you've got a mole on the back of your neck riiiiiiiight-" he pointed behind his own neck, to a space just below his hairline, "-here."

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "How'd you know about my mole?" she accused, rather than asked. Artie gave a small chuckle, and shrugged.

"When you spend a lot of time hugging a person in the crook of their neck, you notice things in that area that other people don't." he admitted.

With a small nod, Quinn put a finger onto the plate before them and scooped up a dollop of pink frosting, to which Artie smacked her hand.

"Hey! You said you didn't want any. This is mine, girlfriend." He pulled the plate closer to him jokingly, and though Quinn was laughing heartily, she popped her finger in her mouth.

"I should go, anyway. I've got to get back to these guys about the lights they refuse to give me." Quinn said, making her phone dance in the air. She'd never in her life wanted so badly to plop her iPhone into her cup of coffee and walk away. She stood, and Artie gave a pout, extending his arm to her.

"Don't go," he whined, "This means I actually might have to fire an actor. You were the one thing keeping me sane."

Quinn chuckled, and ran a hand through his hair. "Welcome to LA. It's pretty insane." She teased. Artie gave a less-than-amused look.

"Alright." He sighed, "Go on 'boutcha business and leave me here to mine. I'm good." He seemed really stressed out, and Quinn briefly reconsidered. Maybe she could cancel…Maybe she could throw both of their cell phones into the sewer and they could run away to Vegas or something. Wouldn't that be an absolute dream? But, alas, her phone vibrated in her hand and reminded her that this was real, and it was what she was dedicating her life to. No time for fantasies.

"You sure?" she fingered his ear a little, cupping her hand around the back of his neck.

Artie shooed her with one hand, and placed the other atop the one on his neck. "No, really, go. I'll be fine."

"Alright." Quinn sighed. She knelt, kissed him on the lips, and muttered a "Bye, babe."

He reciprocated and breathed a salutation as well.

It wasn't until she was at the door did Quinn pause, and turn back to him. She had to keep reminding herself that their little charade was not supposed to be going on at this moment… and she'd just kissed him for…no reason. And called him "babe". It was an unconscious, almost instinctive decision, and it made her question herself for a second. Artie seemed to have noticed, as well, for he turned to look at her with a confused look on his face. She was mortified, yes, but couldn't help but let a laugh escape her lips. Her laugh elicited one from Artie, as well, and they gave each other identical "I can't believe that just happened" glances. She was shocked that she'd been able to laugh about it, really…There was just something about him. With a smile plastered on her face, Quinn gave a small wave, and bolted out the door. Yep. Definitely something about him.