A/N: I'm worried this chapter might be a little bit dragging, but I just need to throw this in from Rachel's perspective to set the plot in motion. Still unbeta'd, forgive me.

A/N2: Still not mine. Don't sue.

A/N3: Reviews are nice. Please keep them coming.

*o*o*o*

"Yes, I just dropped him off! Neither of you should really be drinking if you aren't capable of handling the effects of alcohol to your system."

Rachel Berry was mildly irritated. There she was waiting at the intersection of 7th and 12th at 10:30 on a Friday night, having just driven a highly inebriated Finn home, when she should have been enjoying Game Night with her fathers. She was winning a rousing game of Mastermind when she received Sam's distressed call a little over half an hour ago. Apparently, Finn had had one wine cooler too many and was wreaking havoc on the dance floor in Puck's living room: two jocks have had their drinks spilled on them and a senior girl was now nursing a nasty bruise on her left temple. Sam had begged, implored, groveled, for her to "please, please, please come and take Finn home".

"You still owe me one, Evans. He should have been your responsibility tonight. Wasn't that the purpose of the Buddy System we have meticulously devised?" she glanced at the light, and rolled her eyes at what Sam was saying on the other line.

"Well, I refuse to feel sorry for you for that unfortunate turn of events," Rachel released her hand brake as the light turned green. "Now I have to disconnect this call. The light just turned green and it will be irresponsible of me to drive while speaking with you on the phone."

She then dropped the call, removed the Bluetooth headset from her ear, sat straight up and checked both sides of the intersection, before slowly inching forward.

Her Jeep Wrangler had rolled a couple of feet before the she felt a THUD! from the rear.

"Why were you taking so long to move, anyway? You were going at such a mind-numbingly slow pace…"

Rachel cocked her head to the side as she crossed her arms across her chest and leaned against the side of the Jeep.

When she had pulled over to the curb and had stepped out of her vehicle to check the damage to her Jeep, she was not expecting to see Quinn Fabray to stomp out from the silver Lexus that had caused the minor crash. She had already taken one glance at her rear bumper and was relieved that no permanent damage was done—nothing that she cannot fix with some paint anyway. The other vehicle's front bumper however had a six-inch dent and several ugly scratches. She smirked at the thought of her Jeep whooping a Lexus' overpriced ass and was about to open her mouth to gloat about it when Quinn started this tirade.

Quinn was still rattling on about insurance and some stick up her mother's unmentionables when she decided she had had enough. She pushed herself up, turned around and started to walk back to the front of her vehicle.

"And now what am I supposed to—wait! Where do you think you're going?"

"Home," she threw over her shoulder. "You should probably get going too, Quinn. It's a little too late to be out."

"Wait!"

She reached for the door handle.

"I said wait!"

She pulled opened the door.

"Please."

Rachel paused before turning back around. Quinn was fidgeting with the hem of her flimsy top and had a torn expression on her face. Her blond hair was a little messed up, her brows furrowed, her eyes were a little glassy, and her mouth was doing an impressive impersonation of a blowfish- opening and closing as though wanting to say something but was somehow unable to. She thought the girl could not look more pathetic (adorable) even if she tried.

She took a deep breath before closing the Jeep's door. She knew she would be regretting this somewhere down the line as she started to walk back towards the rear of the vehicle.

"Would you like to file a police report?"

The blonde's eyes widened.

"Wh-what?"

She was now at the front of the other girl's 4x4.

"I'd actually rather not." She crouched to run her fingertips along the dent on the bumper, "It would be too much of an inconvenience, to be honest. The extent of the damage would not be worth it."

She glanced at the blonde. "I'd much rather just get home and forget about it. Don't worry," she gave the taller girl a smirk, "I forgive you already."

"Excuse me?"

Rachel straightened up and looked pointedly at the blonde. "Well, of course, since you hit me."

Quinn opened her mouth to obviously protest but Rachel shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"I don't know where you took your driving classes from, Quinn, but that's how it works. You are obviously at fault and the cops— should we decide to take that route—will see it that way. Besides," she surveyed the dent a little, "I don't understand why you're unnecessarily upset over this little thing. It's not like you wrecked the vehicle beyond repair. Your airbags did not even activate-"

She was shocked when the other girl was suddenly up against her, clutching at the front of her shirt.

"It- it can be fixed? Do you know anybody who can fix it? Can they fix it tonight?"

Rachel took in the wide, desperate hazel eyes inches before her and instinctively, slowly pulled her head back away from the slightly crazed girl. She carefully pried the fingers clutching her top away with slow, deliberate movements. There was no telling how far gone the blonde already was.

Taking a step back to put some distance between them, she held her arms out to keep the other girl at bay. "Of course, it can be fixed. You can take it to Burt Hummel and he'd-"

"No!"

Surprised, she watched as the head Cheerio leaned heavily against the Lexus's fender and covered her face with her hands. Moments later, the blonde looked up at her with a defeated sigh.

"I can't take it to Burt's. My mom will eventually find out about it if I do."

Rachel raised an eyebrow as a slow, mischievous smile formed on her lips.

"Soooo," she drawled, "Mommy doesn't know you took the big, bad Lexus out tonight, does she?"

The other girl closed her eyes as she took a deep breath. "No. Not really," she murmured.

Rachel could not help the smile from stretching to a full-blown grin. "Well. Somebody's in trouble."

Hazel eyes glared at her.

Rachel felt her grin stretch further, attempting to split her face in two, as she held the blonde's gaze. She was however momentarily taken aback when the other girl broke eye contact and looked down. She watched as the taller girl's features crumpled and a look of distraught swept over her face. For a fleeting moment, Rachel reluctantly felt bad for her, really. She knew how it must be like to get in trouble—not that she often finds herself in hot water, though, no, of course not.

"You know," she put her hands in her pockets and scuffed the ground with her shoe. Hesitantly, "I may be acquainted with a few people who work on such things…"

Blonde wisps of hair caught the wind as the other girl whipped her head up to look at her. "You are?"

She nodded, "I've picked a few things up myself. I'm pretty sure even I can work on it without much of a problem."

Quinn paused for a moment before she scoffed, "You would be interested in such things."

Rachel gaped at her before schooling her features into a look of incredulity. "I don't have time for this. Good luck finding a far-flung, covert shop to do the job. Goodnight, Quinn." With that, she turned back around to stomp back to her Jeep.

She hopped in the driver's seat and was about to close the door when a pale arm shot out to keep her from doing so. Turning her head to the side, she watched as Quinn forcefully swallowed before fixing her with a slightly desperate look.

"I—I didn't mean that. Ok, maybe I did…"

Rachel rolled her eyes for the nth time that night as she attempted to pull the door close. Again, the blonde halted her.

"But only for just a little bit! Berry, I—please," she lowered her voice, "if you know of anybody who can help, just— look, I'm slightly desperate."

She cocked an eyebrow at her. "Slightly?"

The other girl finally threw her arms up in the air with a huff.

"Fine! I'm desperate! My mother will be back on Friday and I'm already in so much trouble as it is and I really, really have to be home in five minutes otherwise she'd find out I snuck out, and I have to get to her laptop which I'm sure still needed to be charged and by that time…"

Rachel was finding this rambling oddly amusing. A desperate, word-vomiting Quinn Fabray was not something you get to see every day. She finally took pity on the other girl, though.

"I'll pick it up tomorrow morning and have it fixed by Thursday evening."

Quinn gave her a hesitant smile. "So, you'll do it?"

Rachel opened her mouth to retort "Didn't I just say-"

"How much is it gonna cost me?"

She barked out a short laugh as she buckled up and turned the ignition. "I'm going to have to get back to you on that."