Part Five: Rent-a-Tux

Fifteen minutes past four, Quinn was starting to get annoyed. Artie was supposed to have been there by now and his tardiness was unacceptable in Quinn's opinion. More unacceptable was that every time she called, it went straight to voicemail. She had only left him one message, five minutes beforehand, saying, "Artie, where are you? We agreed on four o'clock and it is past four o'clock. It's fine if you're running late but I would have at least liked to have been alerted to that or something. Just…get here. Soon."

Finally, twenty minutes after the hour, he came rolling in, followed by Kurt and Finn.

"Quinn," Artie started upon seeing her. "Sorry we're late. Finn really wanted a churro…"

Narrowing her eyes, Quinn tapped three times on the face of her phone. "And you couldn't have called? Or answered your phone?"

"Oh," replied Artie, sheepishly. "I didn't think about calling and my phone died."

Finn and Kurt, the one bored by the conversation and the other lured away by the stylish men's clothes just beyond Quinn, wandered off, leaving Quinn and Artie by themselves. Taking the opportunity to speak to him alone, Quinn bent over at the waist, bringing her face to hover mere inches before his. "And you had to invite them?"

Shrugging, Artie told her, "They wanted to come and I didn't feel like trying to dissuade them."

"Perfect," Quinn hissed, straightening. Glancing over her shoulder, she spotted Finn holding up two identical tuxedos side by side while, on the other side of the store, Kurt was wrapping a feather boa around his neck. "Looks as if they won't be in the way anyway."

Half grinning, Artie wheeled towards the racks of tuxedos. "You just wanted me all to yourself. You can admit it."

At his brashness, Quinn's mouth fell open and hung there like that for several seconds. Artie's sometimes awkwardness Quinn was used to, and thought it was cute, but this confidence seemed to come out of nowhere, though Quinn had seen it in him from time to time in the past. Quickly regaining her composure, she strode after him. "Yes, fine. I wanted you all to myself." Winking at him, she walked past, hands brushing the clothes hanging on the racks as she did so.

She didn't turn around to see his expression but she heard him sputtering, "You d-do? I mean, you do. Of course, you do. What woman wouldn't want some time alone with the Artie-fresh?"

Spinning around, she burst out laughing. "The Artie-fresh?"

Removing a tuxedo with a silver-grey vest, Artie grimaced at her reaction. "What? I'm fresh. I'm the fresh master."

Still laughing, Quinn moved to his side to examine the tuxedo he had selected. "What does that even mean?"

Holding the tux up to her, indicating that she should take it, which she instantly did, he lifted one shoulder up before letting it sink again. "I don't know exactly. That I'm awesome?"

"Well, you are that," she murmured, pulling a black and white tuxedo out and laying it over the other, both now draped over her arm.

Blushing a little at her compliment, Artie grabbed a powder blue tux. "This?"

With a raise of one eyebrow, Quinn vetoed it, amused when Artie chortled a bit.

"I was clearly joking. But…" Pausing in front of a display of top hats and canes, Artie let his fingers skim over the brim of a particularly tall all black hat. "What do you think of this?"

Rolling her eyes in the most exaggerated manner possible, Quinn shook her head. "Only if you want to be super lame…and that's not okay for my date."

At her comment, his face fell. "Alright…" Swallowing, he placed the hat back, mouth turning down at the corners.

"Artie!" Coming over to stand by his side, she plucked the hat from the display and dropped it on his head. "I was joking this time," she said, her tone light. "I actually think a top hat would be perfect because my dress is kind of vintage and, besides, you look super adorable in it."

"Adorable?" Settling the top hat in a less askew position, Artie faced her. "Yeah?"

Hearing the tinge of disappointment in his voice over her appraisal of his appearance in the hat, Quinn amended her statement. "Adorable in a super hot way." Letting her eyes rove from the top hat to his face, Quinn realized it was absolutely true. He looked adorably hot, something she never would have believed possible. Opening her mouth, she was about to say more, though what she did not exactly know, when Finn came bounding over.

"Guys!" he exclaimed. "I got matching tuxedos for Sam and me. What do you think?"

Quinn and Artie exchanged a look before leveling their respective gazes at Finn. "Um…" they muttered in unison.

"And I know his size so I can rent them and then surprise him!"

Pursing her lips, to keep from doubling over in laughter, Quinn breathed through her nose before finding the will to say, with a straight face, "Are you like in love with him or something?"

Scrunching his face to one side, Finn glared at Quinn. "Don't be ridiculous. He's my best friend." Then, in a huff, he marched off.

Once he was out of earshot, Artie whispered, "I totally think he is. Looks like you've got competition for Sam's affections."

Whispering back, almost conspiratorially, Quinn answered, "And it's stiff competition! Whatever shall I do?" After giggling together for some minutes, the two chose a few more tuxedos before Quinn ushered Artie toward a fitting room.

Eyes on the doors, Artie murmured, "Might be difficult to change completely..."

"Just try on the vests and jackets, to make sure you look good in them, which I'm sure you will. And I want to see!" Seating herself on the small bench just outside the fitting room, Quinn pulled a magazine from her purse and began leafing through it.

Snorting, Artie immediately denied her request. "I don't get to see your dress before the prom, you don't get to see me in my tux." Smirking at the way her eyes widened then narrowed, he hurried into the fitting room.

Once he was gone, Quinn focused on her magazine but had only started reading an article about Brad and Angelina's billion kids, or however many they had, when Kurt breezed up to her, silver glittery tuxedo reflecting off the overheard lights and practically blinding her. "Kurt! What the -"

"What do you think?" he interrupted. "Too much? I thought since Tina will be wearing black and silver, I would match her."

"So you're going to dress as a giant…sequin?"

Humph-ing, Kurt twirled away from her, angrily stalking back into the dressing room. "You know nothing of fashion," he called over his shoulder.

A retort was forming on her lips when a body appeared before her. Lifting her eyes, Quinn found herself stating at Rachel Berry's face.

"Quinn! What are you doing here?" the petite brunette asked.

"I'm here with Artie…and Kurt…and Finn," she responded, grumbling the names of the latter two. "Are you picking out a tuxedo for yourself?"

"Very funny," Rachel said, sniffing at the air, offended. "No, I am here with Noah. He does not know the first thing about selecting a tuxedo for prom. Though he seems to have made alright choices thus far. Perhaps he wanted -"

"I didn't ask for a speech, Rachel," Quinn cut the other girl off, holding up a hand. "You can go back to your shopping with Puck now."

"Oh, he's finished. We are about to go get something to eat and I was wondering if you wanted to join us."

The cheerful invitation would have been easy to pass up but watching Puck and Rachel interact might be interesting. However, Quinn knew her mom was expecting her for dinner so she said no.

Dejected, Rachel mumbled goodbye and meandered off to find "Noah."

When Artie was done assessing his appearance in each vest and jacket and had picked a tux out, the two of them went to the register. They had just completed the rent-a-tux process when Artie's phone bleeped.

"Uh…looks like Finn and Kurt decided to go home and abandon me here."

"Idiots," Quinn growled. "But you're not abandoned. I can give you a ride home." Frowning, she turned her head toward him. "Wait...I thought your phone died?"

"Oh...I guess it didn't." Eyes on the screen, he swallowed. "I wasn't lying. I thought it had. I was wrong...but it's dead now," he went on, showing the now black screen to her.

Putting a finger to her lips, Quinn stared at his face for a minute. "I guess I believe you and I guess I can still give you that ride home." Smirking, she headed towards the door, Artie right behind her.

Smiling up at her, Artie issued a thanks. "You're pretty cool, Quinn Fabray."

"Duh," she shot back, hand on hip. "And, by the way," she went on as they made their way to the exit. "You're pretty cool too, Artie Abrams."

Pushing the door open for her, Artie decided it was his turn to wink. "You know it."

Biting her bottom lip, due to both his actions, Quinn ran into the door instead of out of it. What is wrong with me, she thought. It's just Artie…why do I feel so flustered?

She didn't allow herself any further contemplation about it for the rest of the day, mostly forgetting by the time she laid her head on her pillow that night.

Though she did have dreams of Artie all night so maybe it didn't fly from her brain completely.