Author's Note: I don't really have anything to say here besides I'm glad you're liking what I'm doing. Please enjoy, and drop me a review if you want. They make my day.

Oh, I know. Here would be a good place to say *ahem* I don't own Glee. I know, it's a shock to me, too. Also, all spelling mistakes are Microsoft Word's fault. Any missing words or abuses of the English language are all on me, though. I have a tendency to get excited over what I'm writing/editing and miss a word. My bad.

Enjoy!

They gathered at Rachel's house.

It started with Brittany. After giving Rachel the box of bracelets and watching The Lion King 2, they started back watching Buffy. Quinn, Santana, and Brittany had all watched and enjoyed every episode, some of them multiple times, so it never mattered that they were there watching repeats. It was all new to Rachel and she was enjoying them, so they were happy for her. Brittany told her the show was one of the first things the three had in common. Buffy and cheerleading. Now it was something the four of them would have.

Rachel lay with Brittany watching the television. It wasn't like she had been with Quinn, up against the headboard, close to each other, eventually laying down. No, Brittany lay like Rachel used to in front of the television when she had watched cartoons as a little girl. On her stomach, chin perched on her fists, socked feet kicking around in the air behind her. It made Rachel do the same, and she loved it.

Brittany's exuberance was contagious, and it made the whole thing more entertaining, more social. Everything funny was funnier when laughing with Brittany. Everything sad was sadder. Everything scary was more fun since she had Brittany to hide her eyes with. They were both hiding behind their hands, though, so neither knew when to look again. Brittany made watching Buffy better and made Rachel forget about things. Mostly.

There were times when something onscreen would remind Rachel of everything, and she would zone out for a while. Her thoughts couldn't help but wander, it seemed. At some point she found herself thinking of Finn and how he was spending his Christmas. Rachel had gotten him a present before they had broken up, and she wondered if he would still want it. She still loved Finn. She didn't think he was her 'soul mate' or any ridiculous idea such as that. Sappy, romantic notions died a week ago in that bathtub. But Rachel did still care about him. She would probably even date him again, if he wanted to. Therein lay the problem, though. She doubted he would ever want to again. If she had been high maintenance before with just her normal amounts of 'crazy', Rachel considered herself at a previously undiscovered level now. Now she was dealing with actual crazy. Medicated psychological problems crazy. It was a wonder Quinn had been able to deal with everything.

Quinn was another problem. Well, no, not a problem. An issue. Or maybe a topic. A subject? Quinn was a… something, at least. Rachel liked her; that much she'd realized when she'd woken up in Brittany's arms and thought/wished/hoped they were Quinn's. She just didn't want to. Rachel knew that if Quinn found out she liked her, she would definitely scare her off, and Rachel didn't think she could survive without Quinn. Okay, well, wow, that was melodramatic. Take two. Rachel didn't think she could survive school without Quinn… and Brittany and Santana, of course. They were going to be like her entourage or her knights (knightesses? What's a female knight called?) in Cheerios uniforms.

That's what they'd said, at least. Rachel still had her doubts, but they'd said they were going to keep the bullies at bay. If not for that feeling of protection, Rachel would rather have dropped out than gone back. Because, now, not only were there going to be bullies but also gawkers and whisperers and starers. The talking behind her back wouldn't be lies like they'd been about her being a transvestite or a man or something ridiculous like that. No, these whispers behind hands, if she were lucky enough to get even that courtesy, would be about her suicide attempt, her hospital stay, her depression.

Without warning, Brittany reached an arm over Rachel's shoulders and pulled her into an awkward laying-down side-hug. She squeezed her for a minute before releasing her with a "You just looked like you needed it" before going back to watching their show. It was still weird being comforted by Brittany, but it was apparently something she'd been doing for years.

The slushees had started the third day of school freshman year. Rachel was wearing one of her favorite outfits: a white, long-sleeved button up with flared-out cuffs, a handmade sweater-vest from her grandmother with a pale pink pig on the front, a light denim skirt, white knee high socks to match the shirt, and tan Mary Janes to match the sweater-vest. It wasn't first day of school good, but it was in the top five of her favorite outfits.

And ahead of her in the hall in all her glory was the girl from her geometry class, Quinn Fabray. She wore a cheerleading outfit like all the other "Cheerios" wore. What a silly name for a group, Rachel thought. It isn't even that good of a breakfast cereal. She looked nervous, carrying that giant cup in front of her and looking around the hall, and oh God, she's looking at me. She's looking at me, and she's so beautiful I can't breathe and oh God, oh God, what do I do? Rachel thought the girl was probably just as nervous as she was, this being a new school, because, really, who didn't get nervous at a new school, right? So she would just befriend her and together they would find their way around and she would have her first actual friend.

Rachel was already putting up her show smile and starting to say "Hi, I'm Rac-" but that was as far as she got when the 40 ounces of grape slushee hit her square in the face.

It was so cold it physically hurt. That was her first thought. After that was why? Did the girl trip? Was she okay? Did she need to get her medical attention? She wiped away the grape slushee from her eyes and looked at the girl who had a look of complete shock on her face, like she couldn't believe that had just happened.

At first, Rachel expected an apology as any civilized person would do. Quinn was looking between Rachel and something behind her, though, and finally muttered, "Welcome to McKinley, troll" before walking off. As Rachel stood there, she turned, her eyes following the blonde towards a group of senior cheerleaders that were laughing and pointing at Rachel while congratulating Quinn. It seemed Rachel had been some sort of initiation. Well, at least it was nice of them to wait until the last class of the day was over.

Rachel told her Dad about the incident in the car, and they were both aware that the bullying she'd received all through middle school had followed her to high school. The next day, both of her dads had gone with her to the principal where they were informed that slushees were not considered instruments of bullying, and that there was nothing he could do besides make sure his faculty keeps an eye out for Rachel. Lot of good that did.

Between second and third period that next day, Rachel had found the first note in her locker. It was written in pink pen on a page torn from a notebook and folded up like an origami swan. Unfolding it, which she hated to do it was so beautiful, she read the message:

Dear short pretty girl,

Sorry about the mean girl yesterday. She didn't actually want to be mean to you. She just had to prove herself to the bitchy cheerleaders. Sorry if the naughty language offends you, but (a name was completely crossed out here) my friend says that's what they are, and that the other cheerleaders have to fall in line if they want to survive. I hope they leave you alone now.

I hope someday we can be friends. We can't right now because... just because. But maybe one day? I think that would be fun. You seem really nice.

-Your friend

Ps. I liked your pig sweater. I hope he's okay.

After that, every time Rachel was slusheed, another note was left in her locker. Sometimes they were typed rather than handwritten. Sometimes they would have poems copied from books or hand drawn pictures or pictures of beautiful vistas printed out, and they would always cheer Rachel up.

On Valentine's Day of her freshman year, she received three valentines which was three more than she'd thought she'd ever get. The first was handmade from construction paper and glue and ribbons. It was from her secret friend and read:

Dearest Rachel,

I know you don't have someone special today and that sucks, but it's okay because I don't either. Well, not really. You deserve the best, and if I wasn't already in love with someone, I would totally be in love with you. Really though, I'm already kind of in love with you. We just can't do anything about it. :-( There are people that like you, though. I got two guys that I know have been checking you out (you have really sexy legs, btw) to give you valentines, too. So while some people only have one boyfriend or girlfriend today, you have two boyfriends and a girlfriend who would totally hit that, so you're like 3X better than those girls.

-Your ninja valentine

Ps. I don't know if you like boys or girls. I like both. I hope you don't think I'm weird because of that, but even if you do, I'll still be your friend.

The other two (from Mike and Matt, Rachel later came to learn) had been more store-bought standard but still very sweet. They also had heart-felt anonymous messages in them. So while Quinn Fabray paraded her senior boyfriend around the school like an oversized accessory, Rachel had three people that genuinely cared about her. And even if she did sit at home that night and watch movies with her dads, Rachel had still felt like the luckier one.

This time, Rachel reached out to Brittany and pulled her in for the awkward laying-down side-hug. Brittany stopped watching the show and did some kind of roll that left Brittany underneath Rachel and hugging her for all she was worth.

"Thank you for being my friend, Brittany," Rachel said. "Not just now, but for the last few years, too."

"You don't have to thank me," Brittany said. "I love you, Rachel."

"I love you, too, Brittany."

"Good," Brittany said, smiling. "Just don't tell Santana. She gets insane sometimes."

At some point, Brittany texted her mom and asked if she could stay and hang out with Rachel. Her mother had said yes. When Rachel asked Brittany about it being Christmas and didn't she want to go be with her family, Brittany just shrugged and said, "They know I need to be here more," like it was just that simple. Rachel wished it was.

They continued watching episodes of Buffy into the evening when Santana showed up with a "Hey" before kicking off her shoes and dropping down on Brittany's other side, adopting the way they were both laying. She would have said more, probably something biting and hurtful because, as Rachel was quickly finding out that's just how she was, but as soon as she walked in, her eyes were on the television. "Oh, I love this episode." And then she was off, talking about everything that happened onscreen, making snarky comments over Willow's outfits and how she hadn't realized they were just like Rachel's, i.e. hideous. "Damn, Berry, I don't know why I never noticed it before. You two are like closet sisters."

"Rachel's not in the closet," Brittany said. "She just likes everyone. Like me."

"I meant literal closet, B," Santana said.

"Like for her music?"

"Not lyrical, Brittany," Rachel said. "Literal. It means actual or real. She means Willow and I share the same taste in clothes sometimes."

"Oh," Brittany said, turning back to the television. "Well, I like Rachel's outfits. Her animal sweaters make me happy. They look like the ones my Nana wears."

"Thanks for proving my point, Britts," Santana said with a laugh.

Brittany's brow scrunched up while she thought about it. "Oh," she finally said in a small voice. Turning to Rachel, she said, "I don't actually think you're my grandmother. Just that your clothes make me happy because they remind me of her."

"It's okay," Rachel said, patting Brittany's hand. "I understood. And thank you. Besides, Santana bought me all those wonderful new clothes, so I'll look normal at school for once."

The other two girls stayed quiet for a minute at this, and Rachel worried she had said the wrong thing. Again. After a few minutes spent watching the television, Brittany broke the silence with, "I can't wait to see you in that dress. You should totally wear it to Puck's New Year's Eve party."

"See, Berry," Santana said. "I told you that you looked smoking in that dress." When she didn't respond, Santana moved forward and looked past Brittany to where Rachel was laying, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "Spill it, short stack."

"I don't think I'm going to Puck's party is all," Rachel said.

"You have to go," Brittany said, and now all eyes were on her. "It'll be fun. And everyone will get a chance to see that you're okay. I mean, y'know, not dead. They'll be all happy for you for that." She looked back and forth between Santana and Rachel. "Right?"

They were both hesitant to speak, but it was Santana who finally did. "Remember the stuff Missy said, B?" Brittany nodded her head sadly. "Well, I think most of the other jocks and Cheerios might feel the same way. They don't know Berry like you do, so they don't know how… for lack of a better word, let's say 'cool'," Santana made air quotes, "she is yet. And Puck's drunken party may not be the best way to show them."

"But I want Rachel there," Brittany said, pouting. "She's my BFF, and we have to do stuff like this together now."

"It's okay, Brittany," Rachel said. "You can be BFFs with Santana that night."

"Santana won't want to be around me," Brittany said, turning to Santana to apologize with a "Sorry, but it's true. Artie's going to be there, and you're going to be all huffy and hanging on Puck or somebody."

Santana wasn't going to respond because just the mention of Artie's name had her looking away, so it was up to Rachel. "Brittany, I just don't think it's a good idea. I can't drink because of the medications I'm on, I just broke up with Finn not too long ago, I made out with Puck to do it, and I'm pretty sure my dads won't let me go." Brittany was pouting at this, so Rachel added, "Maybe we can hang out earlier that day or the next day if you wanted to."

Brittany sighed, and it was just sad to hear that coming from her. "Okay," she said reluctantly. "But when you're better, you have to come to a party. I've never danced with you, and I bet it'd be really fun. You're really good. And I think you're probably really affectionate when you're drunk."

"I doubt it," Rachel said, thinking back to nearly a week ago this time, screaming as Quinn tried to get the knife away from her.

Quinn was the last of the girls to show up that Christmas night.

After spending time already with Rachel that morning, then Sam and his family for a couple of hours, then with her mom exchanging gifts, she found herself back over at Rachel's. Her mom was still reluctant to let her go, and she felt bad for leaving her. It was her and her mom's first Christmas without Russell who was off visiting Frannie and her husband. Quinn didn't want to leave her mom, but she wanted to be there for Rachel. It was almost six o'clock. It was getting perilously close to exactly a week since Rachel tried to take her life. She didn't think Rachel would do something stupid like try to take her life again, but, then again, she'd never thought the brunette would try in the first place.

"Mom, you're welcome to come," Quinn offered. "I'm sure Hiram and Leroy would like to have another adult to talk to rather than just babysitting Rachel."

"Oh, I don't think so," Judy said hesitantly. "It would be rude of me to just show up uninvited, especially meeting them for the first time like that. I'm sure they wouldn't want a stranger showing up on their doorstep on Christmas night."

"They're Jewish, mom," Quinn said. "I think it's just a Saturday night to them."

"Even so."

After that, Quinn was able to talk her mom into letting her go and spend a couple of hours at Rachel's house. The unspoken truth of it was that she was going to go no matter what, and they both knew it. It was as if, after kicking her out and then begging her to come back, Judy didn't feel able to discipline Quinn because her daughter didn't really need her. Quinn, despite recognizing the fact early on, hadn't pushed it to the point where she needed disciplining. It was a system that was working out for both of them, but one her friendship with Rachel was threatening to break.

Arriving at the Berry house, she rang the doorbell and waited for someone to answer it. Quinn had noted Santana's car in the driveway and Brittany's bicycle in the same place she'd seen it that morning when she had left. It seemed that everyone had the same idea she did. She checked her phone as she waited patiently at the door, shivering in the December evening. She looked at the time. 6:27pm. A week ago exactly, she'd been watching Rachel's last video.

"Ah, another stray teenager," Hiram said, opening the door and ushering her into the warmth of the house. "I hope you're doing well this Christmas night."

"I am, thank you," Quinn said, returning his smile. "I saw Brittany's bike is still here. And is that Santana's car out in the driveway?"

"Right in one," Hiram said then paused, thoughtful. "Santana is… interesting."

"Interesting?"

"Well… Is every compliment she gives so… backhanded?" Hiram asked, and Quinn could see where Rachel got her uncertainty about people liking her from. She could tell just by looking at him that Hiram had been picked on in school, probably a lot, like Kurt had been. Quinn then remembered that her father had been one of the people that had done it to him, and she suddenly hoped he didn't get death threats like Kurt had. She especially hoped they hadn't been from Russell Fabray.

God, why didn't this man hate her? But she knew the answer already. Hiram was like a male version of Rachel, and if Rachel was that quick to forgive Quinn, then so would Hiram. Hiram, like Rachel, was too soft for death threats. Too soft for the world in general. Kurt hadn't been. Kurt was bitter and sarcastic and pushed back, but Hiram? Rachel? They just brushed themselves off and tried to continue being nice to everyone until they made it out. Or until it broke them.

"I don't get the feeling she hates us, per se," Hiram was saying, still talking about Santana, "but she… I don't know. She just seemed like she couldn't not be rude."

"That's Santana in a nutshell," Quinn said. "But if she was complimenting your house at all- it's lovely by the way. I don't think I've gotten a chance to say that with… everything."

"Thank you."

"But if San was saying anything nice then she was at least trying. You have to listen to her meaning more than the words she's actually saying. Her and Brittany both."

Hiram's face lit up at the mention of the taller blonde like everyone's did. Everyone fell a little in love with her. "Brittany's been a sweetheart! She's so funny and charming, and says the strangest things but she's very perceptive. She even…" He paused, looking back towards the kitchen and upstairs to make sure no one was around. Dropping his voice, he continued, "She even told me in private that she was sorry Lee and I were having problems, but that we still loved each other very much and that kind of love was rare and beautiful and that we should hold onto it. I was so taken aback. I asked Rachel later if she had told anyone about our… marital issues… but she said she hadn't. I was just…" And he trailed off, at a loss for words.

"I think…" Quinn started off slowly, thinking back over the last couple of days, the last couple of years even, to all the advice Brittany had given her. "I think sometimes that Brittany might be the smartest person I know. And she's almost never wrong."

They were both silent for a moment, lost in their own thoughts, before Hiram cleared his throat and said, "Yes, well, umm… The other girls are just upstairs. If you don't mind, ask them if they're staying for dinner and, if so, to think about what they want from the Chinese place."

"Yes sir," Quinn said, returning his friendly smile. She had just started up the stairs when she heard Leroy's voice.

"Quinn," he said as he walked out from the kitchen. "I thought I heard you. Would you mind coming back down here for just a minute."

Much like Coach Sue whenever she called her out, Quinn automatically started going over what she might have done wrong. It was a laundry list of crimes against Rachel, but the only new one was what they'd done to her yesterday, "motivating" her to run. Well, that and breaking into their house that morning. And rearranging the furniture in the living room without moving anything back. And getting the kitten in the first place. If it had caused any damage or anything, that was kind of on her, too.

Schooling her face into a mask of politeness, she turned back and headed down the couple of stairs, coming up just short of Leroy and Hiram. "Yes?"

Again the Fabray charm was flowing, but she'd been so open and honest with Hiram just moments ago that she knew he could sense the difference. He tried to pacify her, saying, "It's nothing bad, Quinn, don't worry."

"No, nothing bad," Leroy said, repeating his husband. "I was just wondering if you could answer a question for us since you're Rachel's new best friend and all."

"I'll be glad to if I can," Quinn said. "If you can manage to ask me without the enmity."

Leroy arched a questioning eyebrow at Quinn and glared, and she mirrored him, not backing down. She had more than perfected that look growing up a Fabray with her mother and sister. She used it every day and ruled William McKinley High because of it. Well that, and her ability to manipulate, abuse, and terrify. Quinn Fabray backed down to no one. She'd stood up to Mr. Schuester, Principal Figgins, Coach Sue. Who was Leroy Berry compared to them?

"You know…" Leroy drawled out, finally cracking a smile, "in another world, I think I would really have liked you."

Quinn cracked a similar grin. "Give me a chance like your daughter has, and you might even like me in this one."

"Touché, Miss Fabray," Leroy said. "Touché."

"Okay, so if this little confrontation is over," Hiram said, "perhaps we could step into the kitchen and talk for a moment like civilized human beings."

He led the way over to the island, him and Leroy on one side of it, Quinn on the other. It was so reminiscent of the way she and Rachel had stood off around the island, doing her best to corner Rachel and get the knife out of her hand. Circling, slower then faster. Rachel had been drunk and depressed and screaming with rage and Quinn still hadn't been able to stop her. The girl was nothing if not determined.

"Quinn?"

"Sorry," she said, shaking the memories away. Let her nightmares deal with them. "Just… thinking."

"Yes, well," Hiram said, starting out. "You may not know, but you seemed to be well informed about our daughter, more so than we are at times, so we wanted to ask you before we questioned Rachel as she may not be up to answering our questions on this subject with it being so touchy and all. There was just an issue in the notes that we hadn't previously discussed with her, and, seeing as how she shouldn't have had prior knowledge on the subject at hand, it shouldn't have even been an issue to begi-"

Leroy raising his hand stopped Hiram. "What my rambling husband is trying to say-" Hiram slapped Leroy hard on the arm at the insult. "Ow." Leroy shot him a disarming apologetic smile and continued. "What we mean to ask is, do you know how Rachel knows about Shelby Corcoran?"

Quinn froze. This was the last thing she expected to hear. She wasn't sure what she expected to hear, honestly, but it wasn't this. Maybe something about school or about their Glee club teammates or… something. It seemed like everything kept coming back to last year and her pregnancy. Quinn just wanted to forget about it all. "She never told you two how she met Shelby?"

"No," Leroy said. "She shouldn't even know who she is, much less have feelings of being replaced by some other child. Beth, her letters said." And, God, Quinn's heart felt like it was going to stop. That night in the hospital, she, Hiram, and Leroy had spent much of the night talking. When she'd found out Hiram had been bullied by Russell Fabray, Quinn had shared that she'd been pregnant and kicked out by the same man. She'd never gone into detail about what happened to the baby besides mentioning that she was adopted.

They must have taken Quinn's silence as an unwillingness to answer. Hiram added, "Quinn, we're all only trying to help Rachel. We can't help her, explain things to her, unless we know what she knows already."

"Jesse," Quinn said finally. "Jesse St. James started it, from what I've heard Rachel saying. It was a stupid Glee club assignment where we were supposed to think about our dreams. Hers was having a mother." Hiram and Leroy looked at each other, hurt by this news. "Not that she'd ever trade having you two. I think she just wanted to know where she came from. So Jesse came up with the idea of going through her baby stuff in the basement, and they found the tape Shelby left her."

"A tape?" Leroy asked. "Are you sure?"

"I'm certain," Quinn said, recalling the trip to Carmel to spy on their Regionals rehearsals. It had been Rachel, Quinn, and Mercedes. Rachel didn't have a license at the time and couldn't drive so Mercedes had volunteered to make the nearly three hour drive with her. Quinn hated staying at Mercedes's house by herself with Mercedes's parents working late, so she'd offered to go with them. On the way back, Rachel had talked nearly nonstop about meeting her mother, about the tape, and how Shelby hadn't seemed nearly as excited about the experience as Rachel had been. "I had to hear about it the whole drive back from Carmel the night Rachel met Shelby. It was a tape that had her singing on it. 'I Dreamed a Dream' from Les Miserables."

Hiram and Leroy shared a look, this time confused, slightly angry. "There wasn't a tape in Rachel's baby stuff."

"There must have been," Quinn said, "I remember Rachel said she and Jesse found-" She paused, everything falling into place. "That lying son of a bitch. Jesse planted the tape for Shelby. He must have. Jesse was the lead vocalist last year for Vocal Adrenaline and Shelby was the coach. There's no way it's a coincidence. God, why didn't I see this before? He only got close to Rachel for Shelby. I swear, if I ever see St. Jackass again, I'm going to-"

Meanwhile, as Quinn went off on an angry tangent about Jesse, Leroy was doing the same about Shelby. "That selfish bitch. I can't believe she'd go against the contract like that and make contact with Rachel before she was eighteen. It was all there in black and white and she couldn't even wait another two years before she stuck her nose in Rachel's life. We're going to sue her for every cent she has and-"

"Wait, you can't!" Quinn nearly yelled. She'd only been half-hearing what Leroy was saying, angry as she was at Jesse for using Rachel like that, but that caught her attention. All focus was on Quinn again, and she looked down, unable to meet their eyes. "You can't sue Shelby. She has… she has a daughter to provide for, and you can't punish her. Shelby or… or the baby."

"Why not?!" Leroy asked. Quinn looked up to see the fire was still there in his eyes, but Hiram's were softer, more like Rachel, and she could tell he had an idea of why not. "Shelby chose a new baby over trying to know the daughter she already had. What kind of selfish-"

"Lee," Hiram said gently, placing a hand on his arm. "Just take a calming breath, sweetie."

"This is no time for a calming breath, H," Leroy said. "She broke the contract, and we're going to-" but it was about this time that Leroy turned again and saw Quinn, head down in shame, and he stopped. "Quinn?"

She was silent for a minute, and she swore to herself she wasn't going to cry, but it was like she was in that lawyer's office all over again. Sitting there with her mother beside her, Shelby on the other side of the table, lawyer sitting at the head, documents being passed between them to sign. She was signing her daughter's life away. She knew it was for the best, that it was either Shelby or foster care, and Quinn wouldn't let the baby… no, it hadn't been 'the baby' then. It had been her baby. Beth. She wouldn't let Beth be put in foster care where she had no idea what would happen to her. Quinn wasn't ready to raise a child, wasn't ready to be a mother, but she would if she had to. She knew that much.

"It was perfect timing," Quinn said quietly, sniffling to keep the tears at bay. "I hadn't done any planning for Beth because I didn't have anybody. I didn't know what to do. The Joneses gave me a room and fed me, but they didn't know what to do for a pregnant sixteen year old. And I thought I had another month to figure it out. But then I was suddenly in the hospital, and Beth was being born, and I didn't know what to do. I couldn't let her be put in the system. I couldn't. And Shelby… she showed up at the perfect time, and she wanted a daughter, and… and, God, I knew it would destroy Rachel, but I didn't care. I didn't. I had to choose between Rachel's happiness and my daughter's, and I chose Beth's. And I would choose her every time."

"Quinn…" Hiram stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a hug, and she still refused to cry.

"I thought," Quinn said, sniffling again. "I thought if Shelby cared about people as much as Rachel does… I mean, sure, Rachel will crush people to get to the top, but she always feels bad about it. And she would do anything for Glee club. I've seen her. And… the panties…" Leroy and Hiram shared another confused look. "It might have been for Finn, but it was for me, too. And I still yelled at her and told her to stay away from Finn. God, what's wrong with me?" And then she was crying into Hiram's shoulder, and it was comforting because he was soft and sweet like Rachel, and that's what she needed, what she wanted. Someone like Rachel.

"Quinn," Hiram said after letting her cry for a few minutes. "I don't know all the details, but it sounds like you did the right thing by Beth. When Leroy and I screened potential surrogates, we did so by IQ and beauty, but also by personality. Shelby, at least when we knew her, was a good person. And I'm sure if you had any kind of reservations about her when you met her, that you wouldn't have entrusted her with the most precious thing you had. I think you made the right decision, and we would never do something to jeopardize the welfare of your daughter. Leroy was just angry when he said that, sweetie."

"I was," Leroy said. "And I'm sorry. I would still like to talk to Shelby about boundaries, but we wouldn't make any hasty decisions without talking to you about them first."

"Thank you," Quinn said, pulling back and wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her jacket. "I'm sorry. I'm not usually this emotional."

"Have you met our daughter?" Leroy asked sarcastically. "Trust me, this is nothing. Typical Saturday night fare for little miss diva."

"Speaking of," Hiram said, "why don't you head on up to the girls and see about their Chinese orders, okay?"

"Sure," Quinn said, then, "Thank you." She had just started walking away when something occurred to her, and she turned back to them. "Hiram? Leroy?"

"Yes?"

"Are you going to tell Shelby about Rachel?" Quinn asked. "About her… about what she did?" They both stared at each other like they hadn't considered it, and she guessed they hadn't, not knowing the extent to which Rachel knew about Shelby. "I just… if it were the… if it were Beth… I would want to know. You don't owe her anything, but…" She stopped, unsure of what else to say. "I would want to know." And she left them to themselves to talk it over. It wasn't her decision, and she could never make them, but if something happened to Beth…? Quinn didn't want to think about how much she'd be hurting.

When Quinn made her way to Rachel's room, after stopping off to wash her face and do her best to look like she hadn't just been crying, she found Rachel asleep on one side of her bed with Santana and Brittany on the other side playing with Babs. The kitten was the first to notice her, stopping what it was doing to look up and give her a welcoming "mew".

"Quinn!" Brittany whisper-yelled to keep from waking Rachel up. She jumped from the bed and ran over to Quinn, lifting her up in a hug and spinning her around. "Merry Christmas!"

"B, I saw you this morning," Quinn whispered between giggles.

"I know," Brittany said. "I was just excited to see you. Rachel's being boring, and Santana won't make out with me, and I thought you'd be more fun."

"I'm not making out with you, either," Quinn said, still smiling.

"I know," Brittany said, happy at the thought. "It'd be fun, though, right?"

"I'd have a line of people wanting to kick my ass, Britts," Quinn said, shooting Santana a glance. "Everybody loves you too much. So why won't Santana make out with you?"

"She said it'd be weird with Rachel beside us," Brittany said. "Like she might wake up and want to watch or something. I thought it sounded kinda hot."

"I'm right here," Santana said, picking up Babs.

"Of course you are, San," Brittany said, walking over and petting her on the head. "Who else would I be talking about? Rachel? It's wrong to kiss someone in their sleep. Or, at least the first time." Brittany looked contemplatively over at Rachel who was softly snoring. After a moment, she said, "I think Rachel would be really fun to kiss, too. I think I'll ask her when she wakes up."

Santana's eyes nearly bugged out of her head, and she must have squeezed Babs a little too hard because the kitten let out another "mew". "Sorry, chica," Santana said, rubbing the kitten between her ears.

"Or maybe you should stick to the people you already make out with," Quinn said, voice slightly icier than it had been previously. She was almost never harsh with Brittany, because, really, if there was anyone the puppy-kicking analogy had been made for, it was Brittany. She was talking about kissing Rachel, though, and Quinn couldn't allow that. Not when she'd just realized she liked her. "It might just confuse Rachel or make things weird between you two, and we can't have that. Then how could you help us protect her if she was worried about being around you?"

"But…" Brittany started, thinking. "Even if I asked her first? Then it'd be okay, right?"

"Brittany," Quinn said. "No kissing Rachel. Even if she let you, and she would because everyone likes you, she might not really want to kiss you. She might be uncomfortable inside."

"No, she wouldn't be," Brittany said. "Rachel's like me. She likes everyone."

Quinn sighed, because Rachel was that nice. She knew that if Brittany asked her to do it, Rachel would kiss her. It was hard to say no to Brittany. Hell, she'd gotten Kurt to make out with her last year, and he was the gayest person she'd ever met. "Just because Rachel's nice, Britts, doesn't mean-"

"No, I'm not saying it right," Brittany said, shaking her head. "I mean, Rachel likes boys and girls. She told me."

"What?" Quinn asked far too loud, and Rachel popped her head up from the bed, looking around.

"Quinn?" Rachel asked blearily. "What are you…? Did someone yell? Is everything okay?"

"Sorry," Quinn said sheepishly.

"Yeah," Brittany said. "We were talking about how you like-"

"Chinese food!" Quinn yelled, cutting her off. "We were talking about how you, well, all of us, really, like Chinese food. Your dads are ordering and they wanted to know what everyone wanted." Brittany looked at Quinn confused, but she gave an almost imperceptible nod of her head, and Brittany let it go. "We should go tell them." And with that, she yanked Brittany by the arm out of Rachel's room, leaving Santana and the confused looking diva behind.

Down the hall and away from Rachel's room, Quinn asked, "Did she say that, Brittany? Really?"

Brittany nodded. "She told me. Well, she didn't tell me-tell me, but when I asked her, she didn't deny it."

"What were the actual words, Brittany?" Quinn asked, a little too harshly, and- Damn it! -she used her full name. Brittany looked at her wide-eyed, and Quinn started calming her, saying, "Britts, I'm not mad. I promise."

"Q, I didn't think," Brittany said, apologizing anyway. "I'm sorry. I know you like Rachel, and I forgot when I said I wanted to kiss her. I just thought it'd be fun because she's so cute and little. Don't hate me."

"Britts," Quinn said, shushing her. "I could never hate you. Not ever. Don't ever think that, okay?"

"Even if I said I kinda love Rachel a little?" Brittany asked.

Quinn sighed. "Of course you do, Britts. She's kind of like you. We all love her a little. I think maybe even Santana. That's why we're going to take care of her like we take care of you, right?"

"Right," Brittany said, nodding and smiling again.

There was more Quinn wanted to ask Brittany, but Rachel and Santana were coming out of Rachel's bedroom, and there just wasn't time. Rachel was looking so very cute, though, with her hair all lopsided from sleeping on it. Quinn immediately found herself in Rachel's personal space, reaching out to fix her hair.

"Quinn, what are you doing?" Rachel asked, trying to push her arms away.

"Just paying you back so you can… what was it you said?" Quinn asked, pretending to think about it. "Oh, yeah. Put your best foot forward for your dads."

"What?" Rachel asked. "When did I-"

"'Curse you and your longer reach, Quinn Fabray!'" Quinn shouted, causing Rachel to go red. "Sound familiar?"

"You bitches are so weird," Santana said, grabbing Brittany's hand and walking away down the steps.

"Come on, Berry," Quinn said, taking Rachel's hand like Santana had done Brittany's and leading her down the steps. "Chinese food awaits."

As the four girls, Hiram and Leroy sat around the living room watching The Main Event (a Christmas tradition in the Berry house that Rachel had talked the others into sharing with her and her dads, even if they weren't as big of fans of Barbra as Rachel and Hiram were), Rachel looked around at Quinn, Santana, and Brittany. They had been her worst tormentors since that third day of high school. Quinn had thrown the first slushee at Rachel. Santana had picked on her since second grade. Brittany had stood by and let it happen. She should have hated them.

Brittany, though, had been the person to cheer her up the most (besides her dads) since that fourth day of high school. Santana had been the girl in second grade that she'd had a crush on, that she'd given her friendship bracelet to, that had made her think about kissing for the first time. And Quinn had been her first high school crush. Even after the slushees started. She'd been the first girl Rachel had ever had sexual fantasies about. She was the girl Rachel kept offering her friendship to.

Rachel should have hated them, but she didn't. She couldn't'. Because while they had been her worst tormentors, that wasn't all they had been. They'd been more. And they were becoming even more still. Santana was trying her best to be nice to her. She'd bought her clothes so she'd fit in, she'd invited her into her clique, and she'd promised to protect 'her own'. Brittany had pronounced herself Rachel's BFF, and that was something she'd always wanted. Not only that, but Brittany had been living up to those initials ever since. She made Rachel feel a part of something in a way the Glee club never had. And Quinn? Quinn was her crush. The girl that she wanted to date. Her 'complicated'.

But above that, Quinn was her friend, her confidant, the person Rachel felt she could be completely honest with because that's what they'd promised. And unlike Brittany, Quinn would get it. Brittany would smile and hug and try to make her feel better, but Quinn would understand. Quinn would help. That's all she'd been doing for a week now is trying to help. So Rachel would let her, if she could. She would try and get better, if it were possible. And if it wasn't…?

Well, with Barbra Streisand up on the screen, her fathers sitting with Babs on the loveseat and acting closer than she'd seen them in months, Santana and Brittany wrapped around each other in the recliner, and Quinn and Rachel snuggled under a blanket on the couch… right now she just wanted to think that it was possible.