So, picking up where we left off...

I only own the execution...oh and Rinoa...yep.

Enjoy!

Brittany tossed a frozen slab of bacon over the couch and held in the giggle as Quinn cried out in pain as the brick of bacon landed on her stomach. She came out of the kitchen and stood in front of the wounded woman.

"Put the bacon over your eye. It'll help with the swelling."

"I can't believe the midget popped you one, Q." Santana smirked passing both blondes open bottles of beer. She gripped Brittany around the waist and brought her girlfriend to sit with her on the navy loveseat.

"I can. Really, Q? You can't just kiss Rae, it's been years and she's very angry at you still. You're suppose to take things slow." Brittany spoke to the other blonde as if she were a misbehaving child and the hazel-eyed woman felt thoroughly chastised.

"I guess I listened to the wrong voice in my head." Quinn shrugged holding the frozen slab of bacon over her purpling eye.

"You have voices in your head, too? Sometimes I hear Mr. Tubbington, but that's mostly when I'm hungry."

"Good job, Sybil I always knew you were psycho." Santana laughed.

"So, is Quinn going to stand outside of our shower in her mom's clothes now, Sanny, cuz I don't see how that's gonna get Rae to talk to her, though Judy is still a MILF, right San."

"Definite MILF." Santana's grin widened at Quinn's flushed face.

"Can we please change topics?

"Why? You shoulde be glad your moms is a MILF, gives you something to look forward to if you're lucky."

"Shut-up, we're not talking about my mom, we're talking about Rachel."

"No you're talking about Rachel. Look take her giving you a shiner as a good sign, if she didn't care at all she wouldn't have reacted so violently."

"So she punched me because she's got unresolved feelings for me?" Quinn arched the eyebrow over her unbruised eye, but the action still made the other side of her head hurt.

"Oh yeah, if I know anything, I know repression. That chicks got all types of unresolved Quinn issues." Santana leaned back crossing her arms matter-of-factly.

"Ok, so what am I suppose to do now, great guru Santana?" Quinn took a long gulp of her beer and adjusted the frozen meat over her eye.

"Your asking me to put myself in Rachel's place here, that could lead to all sorts of mental scarring."

"Mental scars mean brain scabs." Brittany mumbled to no one in particular.

Both women looked at the blonde dancer quizzically and then back at each other with a shrug, they were use to the often random things that the woman said, but that didn't mean she never caught them by surprise.

"Let me ask you this, Q, what do you want from Berry?"

"A chance..."

"For what?"

"Anything. I screwed up royally, I fucked up something that could have been forever and now I'd really be thankful for anything, but mostly forgiveness."

"I think that Rae has forgiven you, she's just like that. I just think she's hurt and like seeing you is like, like you know how pulling a band-aid off a scab hurts and like you can peel off the scab with it sometimes and it bleeds a little and your angry at the band-aid, but it was just doing it's job? Rach is like that. She's angry cuz seeing you brought back all this pain that she'd forgotten about cuz her band-aid was on it. Mental scars!" Brittany nodded satisfied with her answer to the problem as both women stared gap mouth at the blonde.

"My girl is a genius." Santana smiled toasting Brittany's beer with a quick bottle tap.

"Right. So now that the band-aid's ripped off what do I do to make the pain easier?" One hazel eye blinked at her companions.

"Cuz kissing it better obviously isn't the way." Santana guffawed.

"Stop being a meanie, San or no sexy time." Brittany poked her girlfriend in the side sharply.

Santana pretended to zip her lips and tried her hardest to look angelic. Brittany dropped a kiss on her temple and the blue eyes locked with one hazel eyes.

"Kisses only make things better when you have faith in the kisser. You can't make promises with your lips and expect Rae to believe them if she doesn't believe in you, Q."

Quinn nodded listening to Brittany's sage advice. She had to agree with Santana, Brittany probably was a genius.

"I can't believe you actually hit her." Kurt squeaked mouth almost in a perfect 'o' after Rachel explained to the group what had happened on her lunch hour.

"I can, serves her right." Mercedes reached across Artie for the Garlic bread. It was their traditional Wednesday night spaghetti dinner. They'd been having one almost every Wednesday since they'd arrive in New York. Puck was often in semi-attendance by some sort of video-messaging depending on whose house they were at. He may not especially care about Kurts talk of fashionistas, nor Mercedes long-winded stories on their newest artist, but he always found Artie building his toast ends into a leaning tower amusing and he loved being a part of their makeshift family even if his real one was in the next room. They didn't know it, because he'd be damned if he ever told them, but they were his home away from home. So, when he looked into the screen and saw the worry creases on Rachel's forehead he instantly had to quash the desire to hop a flight to New York or call Quinn and give the blonde a piece of his mind.

Are you okay? He texted her phone not wanting to force her to discuss it in front of their friends if she wasn't ready.

He watched her slightly shake her head no and wasn't surprised when his phone vibrated.

I shouldn't have hit her, no matter how angry I was. It was inappropriate and I'm frankly ashamed of myself...can I call you after everyone leaves?

Like you have to ever ask. He felt better when she smiled into the screen at him and rejoined the conversation at hand.

Two hours later he was answering his phone when Rachel's name flashed brightly. They'd ended their group night thirty minutes ago, but he figured that Rachel was probably cleaning up afterwards with Artie and trying to convince him that she was okay.

"Hey Jewbabe, so tell the Puckster what's up?"

"Oh, Noah, what am I suppose to do? I can't believe I'm saying this but, I still love Quinn. I shouldn't love her, Noah! She hurt me so much and I feel utterly ridiculous for not being able to control my feelings."

"You can't help how you feel, Rachel."

"Well, I need to Noah, Artie and I finally went through with it and I'm not 100% sure but what if I'm pregnant? She would just leave me when she found out, Noah, who wouldn't? No one wants that baggage and I don't want to set myself up to be hurt again."

"I still can't believe you went through with that, babes." He ran a hand across his head and shook his head sadly.

"Why don't you think I'd be a good mom?" She frowned laying down on her bed.

"Of course you would...will, just...it never stops Rachel, it's like the greatest ride and the worst thing all rolled into one. One moment they're doing something that makes your whole world light up and then they follow that bright moment by like setting the drapes on fire." Rachel could stop herself from giggling.

"How are the kids? And Lauren, how is she?"

"The twins, P.J. and Naomi started kindergarten by telling their class in detail where babies come from, with pretty graphic and accurate drawings. Everyone swears it was his idea, but I think my little girl is the ringmaster to that circus. Izzy decided to set a booby trap for the tooth fairy which I got tangled up in and I almost got caught! Lauren would have killed me if he found out that the tooth fairy wasn't real, she's not ready for her baby boy to not believe anymore."

"It's kind of your own fault, Noah. With Lauren and your track records of course your children are going to be a handful." She said between giggles.

"I'm glad you find my pain amusing." He mumbled, but smiled happy that he's made his friend smile.

"I'm glad you helped me not to think about this Quinn thing, Noah."

"Me too. Don't worry, Rach, you'll figure it all out, ok and if you need me you know the Puckster's got your back and will be on the plane and knocking heads by dinnertime."

"Okay, Noah, I understand, knocking heads, got it. Thanks for the talk Noah, goodnight." She smiled

"Anytime, BerryBabe, night." He smiled hanging up and then trudging up the stairs losing his footing halfway on Izzy's stuffed bear.

So?

Some PuckleBerry (cuz if you've read my other stories you know I 3 that friendship) and Fabrittana friendly banter. I also love writing Brittany because I get to be as random as I wanna.

Next some Faberry convo and moving forward.

Ink