Cheeriosity
Characters/Pairings: Sue, Brittany/Santana, Sugar, Quinn/Jesse, Beth, Rachel, Harmony, Mercedes/Sam, Aphasia, Kurt, Rory
Summary: Sue Sylvester didn't become the biggest name in the dance world by going easy on her students, but now that some of her former stars have enrolled their kids in her class, the shit's about to hit the fan.
A/N: Where is Rachel? Your guess is as good as mine.

Harmony Berry stares out the window of the Chicago-bound bus as it rolls through the Ohio countryside. Mrs. St. James, or Quinn as she insists Harmony call her, hasn't once let go of her hand even though their palms are starting to sweat.

And Quinn's great, but Harmony really, really wants her mother.

Her mother who works sixty hour weeks because Cheeriosity isn't cheap and there's a stack of bills on their counter that gets taller every day; who went back to school for a second degree; who only allows thirty minutes of television a night; who taught Harmony everything she knows about the theatre.

"Did you want to try calling her again? Maybe a text?" Quinn asks soothingly.

Harmony shakes her head no. "Her voicemail's full and she only has 200 texts a month."

Quinn pats her hand and Harmony thinks that for now it'll have to do.

"How's it goin' over there, AJ?" Sam calls across the aisle. He's sprawled out across the backseat and using his bookbag for a pillow while his stepdaughter tries her best to avoid him.

"AJ's a boy's name, Mister Evans," she finally says, narrowing her eyes.

"I dunno," he shrugs. "Could go either way. Like Sam… which you can call me."

"Or I could call you White Chocolate. That was your stage name, right?"

He grins sheepishly. "Uh, yeah. From the play I was in when I met your mom."

Aphasia's not stupid, though. She knows 'the play' is really code for Stallionz, the strip club her mother used to frequent.

The truth is just too humiliating.

For all three of them.

"Hi, I saw on your website that you sell De – DeLo – cars that work as time machines," Sugar whispers into Santana's cell phone while its owner snores, blissfully unaware of what's taking place. Sugar rolls her eyes. This isn't the first time she's 'borrowed' a credit card to buy something, but it was way easier when she had her own phone. "How far back can you go?"

"To avoid confusion and potential wormholes we can only send you as far back as the first Back to the Future movie," the operator says.

"So, like… 1895?" Sugar guesses. Math's never been her best subject, but she's pretty sure that Gone with the Wind is basically the oldest movie in the world and that took place during the Civic War.

Okay, so maybe history's not her best subject either.

"Try 1985. And because of backorders, you'll have to wait six years for your machine."

Sugar shrugs it off. "No biggie." At least she won't have to hide a car from her mothers. Besides, six years will give her plenty of time to learn how to drive. "Does the price include S and H?"

"No ma'am, shipping and handling is an additional cost. The warranty is also extra –"

"Can I pay for it now or not?" Sugar says bluntly. Her patience is wearing thin because Coach Sue sometimes drives over potholes just for the heck of it and she needs to finish this call before a certain someone wakes up.

The operator sighs. "We take all major credit cards except American Express."

Sugar looks through her Mami's wallet. "It's cool. I have like, ten others anyway."

"I don't know why you're so worried, Daddy," Rory says as his father shows him videos of past routines.

"Look, I didn't want to make you nervous, but there will be some major casting directors at the competition. If they like you, maybe you'll get to be on Broadway!" Kurt tells him.

Rory scratches his head. "Will that impress girls?"

"How should I know?" Kurt pauses. "Anyway, just promise me you'll try."

Nodding, Rory presses play on the portable dvd player and lets his eyes glaze over while he thinks about Sugar's smile instead.

"I saw it at Radio Shack, Grandma, and I just knew you had to buy it for me," Sugar says. "My birthday's still a few months away, but I was hoping you'd it get now and then forget about it and then buy me another present when the time comes."

"What does a girl your age need with a laptop?" Grandma Pierce asks. "Your mama had one in high school and she mostly used it to look up pornog– puppies," she catches herself, not that her granddaughter notices.

"All my friends have them! Except Harmony."

"I still think you're too young, Sweet Pea. Maybe in a few years."

Sugar bites her lip. "Is Grandpa around? Just put the phone next to his part-deaf ear and I'll do the rest."

Then the signal cut out or something because her grandma wasn't on the other line anymore – which is weird because the bus wasn't passing under a bridge or anything.

Must've lost service on the other end.

"Want to play a game?" Sam asks.

"Okay," Aphasia agrees. This ride can't possibly get more boring.

Sam opens his backpack, which is filled with at least a dozen cartridges and handheld gaming systems. "I have PSP, Nintendo DS, Game Boy Advance, Game Boy Color, Game Boy Pocket, and the crown jewel in my collection, the original Game Boy. Bet you've never seen one of these before."

"Maybe in a museum," Aphasia retorts. She browses through the pack, looking for anything she might recognize. After a few minutes of searching, she pulls one out at random. "Is this any fun?"

"Pokémon Yellow? It's only the best game ever!" he says excitedly. "Here – I'll show you how it starts. I also brought my link cable in case you wanna trade any later on. Gotta catch 'em all, right?"

Aphasia groans.

"Don't think about how bad you gotta pee, Sue, it's a weakness and you are NOT weak," Sue mutters to herself. "We're already behind schedule. There's no time for… well, we are running low on gas."

Harmony sits up. "Why are we pulling off the exit?" she wonders aloud. Is it possible that her mother will be waiting there? Did Sugar's mama really find her and catch up to the bus that quickly?

"You got ten minutes while I empty my tank and refuel the bus," Sue shouts.

The sound of Sue's voice jolts Santana out of her sleep. Disoriented, she looks over to her daughter who is chatting on her phone.

"So you sell deep dish pizzas? I've always wanted to try one. Can you send it to my hotel later this evening?" Sugar says. "We're staying at…"

"I'll take that," Santana says, snatching the phone out of her daughter's hand. "Please tell me you only ordered a pizza this time."

But before Sugar can respond, Santana gets a text message from her wife.

It reads Got her.