"And then…she leaned down…and we kissed!"
Kurt's eyes widened at Rachel's words. "And you were just wearing a towel? Nothing else?" he demanded, half-scandalized and half-thrilled.
"Aw, you get it, girl!" Mercedes cheered.
Rachel blushed.
The three were sprawled across Rachel's bed, sharing popcorn as the petite brunette regaled her friends with her accounts of the past few weeks. Rachel had called Kurt immediately after Quinn dropped her off after their sleepover—and the cheerleader had called Mercedes after her talk with Sam—this was the first time she was truly able to gush to her friend s in-person. It was Sunday night, but there was no school the next day due to a teacher conference, so McKinley High's biggest divas were having a "girl's night (plus Kurt)" at the Berry residence. And what slumber party was complete without a little gossip?
"And you two became 'official' a week later, right?" Kurt asked.
Rachel couldn't stop her huge smile as she nodded, earning chuckles from her friends.
"How long ago did this happen?" questioned Mercedes.
"How did you know she liked you? I mean, Quinn's a lot better than she used to be, but she's still so...aloof, sometimes," Kurt added.
Rachel considered this. "Honestly, I didn't know she liked me until we kissed, but I had kind of hoped she did for a while. I just thought I was imagining it since I liked her. And she's not always distant; she can be quite sweet and romantic, really."
"So who knows about you two? Us, Brittany, Santana, and Sam?" Kurt asked.
"Yes, and my dads, and Quinn's housekeeper Hanna. Those are the people we've told, at least. Most of the Glee club probably knows though."
Kurt nodded. "Do you want people to know? Does Quinn?"
Rachel's brow furrowed. "I…yes, I do. I want people to know that I have an amazing, talented, beautiful girlfriend. I think Quinn wants people to know—I mean, she did tell Mercedes and Sam, and I think she plans on telling Puck—but at the same time, she doesn't. Though not nearly as all-consuming as sophomore year, status is still important to Quinn, and after what happened with you, I think she's…"
"Afraid. She's afraid," Kurt finished. "I understand. But people will find out. When they do, we'll be here to support you—all of Glee club will, probably."
The three singers considered that until Mercedes broke the tension.
"Enough serious talk! Rach, I'm glad you two are together. You are such a gorgeous couple and it's obvious you're happy," Mercedes announced. "Now, let's put in a movie! And no more Funny Girl!"
The credits of Grease had just ended when Rachel's phone vibrated.
"Aww, is it Quinn? Does she miss you already?" Kurt smirked.
Rachel laughed and checked her messages.
"So?" Mercedes prompted, "Is it Quinn, professing her undying love for you?"
Rachel shook her head, surprised. "Actually, it's Santana. It says she needs my help with something."
"Oh God, that sounds ominous," Kurt warned. "Why does Satan needs help from you?"
"I have no idea."
Mercedes shrugged. "Text her back and find out."
That Friday night after the football game, Quinn was in Puck's truck on the way to Charlie's, a 24-hour diner. To celebrate the McKinley High Titans managing to win a game 0-35, one of the seniors was throwing a major house party for the players, cheerleaders, and "anyone cool." Puck was, of course, going, and Quinn also planned on making an appearance, but she wanted to talk to the Mohawk-ed boy before he got too drunk. He had suggested Charlie's so he could "carbo-load before a night of debauchery" and she had agreed, albeit with an eye roll.
Despite having been the one who wanted to talk, Quinn was quiet during the ride, fiddling with the radio until Puck reached over and stilled her hand.
"You okay, Baby Mama?" Puck asked, sparing a quick glance at the girl beside him.
The girl in question rested her hands in her lap. "I'm fine. Sorry."
"It's all good, Blondie. What did you want to talk about?"
Quinn hesitated. "I'd…I'd rather wait until we're at the diner."
"Anything for a hot chick," he joked, earning a punch to the arm.
"Hey!" he protested, "Trying to drive, here!"
"You deserved it."
Puck simply grinned.
"Weeks? You've been hooking up for weeks?" Puck shouted, and then immediately began coughing as his Coke went down the wrong pipe. Seeing Quinn's panicked expression as other diners turned to see the commotion, he took another drink—more carefully this time—to clear his throat, and lowered his voice to a heated whisper. "How could you hook up with Rachel Berry for weeks, and not tell me?" he demanded.
Quinn winced. "I'm sorry Puck, I know it's a lot to process. We're not 'hooking up.' We're dating. I understand if you're angry and don't want to see me—"
"Not see you? Why?" the boy asked, incredulous. "This is so fucking awesome! You two are seriously hot. I'm just pissed that you kept it from me."
Now it was the blonde's turn to stare in disbelief. "You…you're really okay with this?"
"Of course I'm okay with it. You're both smokin' and I would know—I've had quasi-relationships with each of you." Puck laughed when the cheerleader kicked his shin under the table.
Becoming more serious, he added, "I'm happy if you're happy, Fabray. And other than your preexisting anger issues,"—he winced as she kicked him again—"you seem the happiest I've seen you in a long time—since before everything with Beth."
Seeing Quinn's eyes water, and wanting to avoid tears, he continued, "And hey, maybe I can join you ladies someti—Ow! Damn, Baby Mama, I need that leg, you know!" The blonde rolled her eyes as he grumbled, but by the time they had finished eating, both were laughing raucously as they exited the diner.
"Come on," said Puck. "Let's go pick up Britt and Santana and head to the party."
Why is Santana's house so dark? Quinn wondered as she and Puck pulled up to the Latina's home. The windows were pitch black, even the one in Santana's bedroom.
Though not as luxurious as the Fabray residence, it was far nicer than Santana's Lima Heights attitude implied. Of course, before Mr. Lopez became Dr. Lopez when his daughter was twelve, her family had lived in a small apartment in the aforementioned neighborhood. By then, the feisty girl had already begun to develop her reputation as a badass. That fierceness, likely combined with a bit of racial stereotyping, allowed Santana to maintain her "wrong-side-of-the-tracks" image while living in a mansion.
Oh God, I hope she and Brittany aren't having sex right now. Quinn shuddered as she remembered previous occasions when they had forgotten she was around, and the artist had accidentally seen things she simply could not un-see.
Puck snorted, and the blonde realized that she had spoken aloud. She blushed, but that just made her companion laugh harder as he cut the engine and they hopped out of the truck.
"Shit!" the boy swore when they were halfway up the driveway.
"Okay…" Quinn raised an eyebrow.
He grinned ruefully. "Yo Baby Mama, I forgot my phone in my truck. You go ahead, get a head start on nagging those two out of the house, and I'll be there in a minute."
The blonde shrugged at his strangeness and continued up the driveway. Knowing that knocking would be useless if her best friends were, ah, busy, Quinn didn't even bother with the front door. Instead, she punched in the garage security code and ducked inside.
While she dismantled the alarm system, Puck grabbed his phone off the seat of his truck and sent a quick text to a few girls. Grinning, he pocketed his cell, ran a hand through his Mohawk, and went to follow a certain blonde cheerleader.
AN1: Sorry for the long delay! I keep underestimating my schedule! Also...I might be running out of steam for this story. Without Dianna Agron's face on my TV consistently, writing this just hasn't been the same. This season, I'm definitely a Santana/Naya fan, and I might wrap this story up soon. Earlier, I had thought of a longer, angsty plot, but I might leave this as mostly fluff and finish it soon, then start something new. I like writing scenes, but I don't think long stories are really my style. What do you think? Do you want this to be a long angsty plot or end it in a few chapters as a light, fluffy piece, and start a new story? Please let me know your opinions!
AN2: Major thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and followed! I really appreciate it-in fact, you're the reason this story is more than a two-shot! So thank you!