Happy Nearly New Year. Thanks to all the reviews for the last chapter and also big thanks my brand-spanking new beta: OddCoupler222 who is being an awesome help in tidying this fic up. The title for this chapter comes from a Boyzone song: Love Me For A Reason because I can't get it out of my head.

Chapter Three: I Never Know If I Should Stay or Go.

"I'm so sorry," Quinn hadn't been able to take her eyes from the mess she'd made upon running into the room, but Rachel's disgusted reaction brought her around. "I didn't want your parents to hear me and I thought I could get to your bathroom in time, but…"

"It's okay, Quinn."

But she could tell by the barely concealed revulsion pulling at Rachel's lips that it wasn't. Of course it wasn't! How could someone throwing up on your carpet ever be okay?

"Look, I'm really sorry. Just tell me where you keep your cleaning supplies and I'll get rid of it. You don't even have to stay. You can go back downstairs and I'll just leave quietly when I'm done."

Rachel physically shook out her shoulders, arms, and hands and she looked much better once she was done. She shook her head, too, "No, honestly, it's quite alright. You couldn't help it. You sit down and I'll clean up. It won't take long."

"No, Rachel, I'll…"

"You're still very pale, Quinn. If you won't sit down on the bed I think you should at least go and sit in the bathroom to prevent any more accidents on my carpet."

Already feeling embarrassed and sick and upset, Rachel's light-hearted dig coupled with the sympathetic tone of voice brought tears to Quinn's eyes. She tried to blink them away but they fell, starting as a trickle but quickly turning into a waterfall.

"Oh God!" She was so pathetic. Falling back to sit on the edge of the bed, she covered her face with her hands and leaned forward, trying to hide her tears from the girl watching just two feet away.

Which obviously didn't work that well.

"Hey, hey, I was just trying to make light of the situation so you wouldn't feel like… well, doing this. It really is okay. Just last year I became rather partial to chili-beef tacos and ate so many of them one day that I barfed all the way across the living room and that looked way worse that this! It also may have contributed to my decision to become a vegetarian but that information stays between the two of us, if that's okay, because I prefer to focus on the ethical reasons for my life-style choices," Rachel sank down beside her on the bed, one arm curling tightly around her shoulders but Quinn couldn't take being comforted right now, least of all by Rachel and her ethical reasons.

"No, Rachel, it's not okay!" She pushed the girl away. "Stop being nice to me! I don't deserve it. I was rude to your parents, I lied about you again and I just threw up all over your floor,so just stop!"

"Quinn…" Rachel tried to take her hand.

"No!" She pulled it roughly away, "Rachel! I can't… this is just too exhausting. I don't know how much longer I can cope with everything going wrong in my life. I have worked so hard to be who I am…!" She was clenching her jaw to control her sobs but it was just making her sound even more broken, "You have no idea how hard and then because of one stupid mistake, I end up here. How is that possible? How did everything go wrong so fast?"

"Quinn," Rachel repeated, forcing out a chuckle. "It's hardly anything. You've been drinking water all day so just a little scrub with some disinfectant and some carpet spray and it will be like it never happened. You're understandably over-reacting because you still feel unwell but I promise you it's okay."

Quinn cried harder because Rachel just didn't get it! She wasn't talking about the stain on the floor. As mortifying as it was, it was just the result of all of the substantial mistakes she had made last night.

"Just come here." Rachel put her arms around her again, pulling her into a hug. "Just sniff me for a few minutes and it'll put itself into perspective."

She allowed her nose to drop to Rachel's neck, wanting her to be right, but she barely had time to inhale before she knew she had to move. Pushing away again she staggered to her feet and ran for the bathroom.

She emerged just over two minutes later, still wiping tap water from her lips, to see Rachel heading out of the room.

"Where are you going?" her voice sounded so weak.

"To get some cleaning solutions and a bucket of water," so did Rachel's. After hesitating in the doorway for a moment, she took a step back in and softly closed the door again. "Why aren't I working?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Why aren't I making you feel better?"

"Oh. It's just a bad day."

"I've seen you have bad days, Quinn, but I've always worked in the past."

"This isn't about you, Rachel."

"Well, forgive me, but I feel like I'm having my worst fear realized right now so if it's really not about me then I'd appreciate some sort of explanation as to what it is about."

Quinn frowned, "Your worst fear is not relieving my morning sickness?"

Rachel didn't look embarrassed or cowed by her sarcasm, "One of them yes, considering it's the very foundation of our relationship."

"We're not in…"

"A relationship, yes I know. Consider it a generic term for two people who have yet to define what they actually are in, then, and please answer my question."

She didn't want to.

"I showered before you came over but I can shower again if that will help. Or perhaps…" she gestured to her closet. "… I won't be offended if you just want to use a t-shirt or you can wear my hoodie again, no one is going to see you in it here."

"I already said it isn't you. I just don't think anything is going to help today."

"Why do you think that?"

"Weren't you going to get the carpet shampoo or something? If you get it now I can start cleaning up."

"Why aren't I helping with your morning sickness today?"

Jeez, she was like a broken record! One she wanted to snap in half, "Because I got drunk last night! Okay? I stood up and made a big speech about trying to kiss you and then I got scared. I was weak. I walked into that dance and I was terrified. So, I escaped into the punch bowl and now I have a hangover or something. Are you happy now?"

Rachel had covered the distance between them in a heartbeat, "Quinn, the baby!"

"I know!"

"But, how could you do that?"

"I didn't mean to! I didn't even know I was doing it until it was too late."

"But how is that possible? You must have known!"

"I didn't, I swear," she fell onto the edge of the bed again, head back in her hands, "I didn't even realize until I was talking to the Glee kids."

"So what did she say when she turned you down?" Artie asked.

He didn't sound like he was digging for gossip, just genuinely curious, but she was aware that Mercedes and Kurt and Santana were hanging on every word she said.

"I think I've humiliated myself over Manhands enough for one night, thanks."

"Oh, go on, Quinn," Kurt cooed, "You have to give us something."

Why, exactly?

"I can't even remember, something about not falling for my tricks."

"Oh my God, girl, what would you have done if she'd actually been into it?"

"Sucked her face off?"

She ignored Santana's comment to focus on Mercedes, "I'd have kissed her obviously, what else could I have done?"

Mercedes let out a peel of laughter, "Oh my God, that would have been disgusting!"

Quinn's eyes narrowed, "I didn't know you were such a homophobe, Mercedes."

The other girl sobered immediately, looking hurt by the accusation, "I'm not; I'm down with the gay-love, but it's Rachel! I mean, who wants to go there?"

"Why wouldn't you?" When Mercedes eyebrows shot up, Quinn realized her mistake – actually she realized the wrong mistake, but she'd figure that out in a minute – and looked around the group until she settled on Artie, "Why wouldn't you want to kiss Rachel?"

"Um, because she's Rachel?"

Quinn's gaze narrowed further, "So, it's not that you think she's unattractive or that you imagine she wouldn't be a good kisser; you're purely basing your judgement on her reputation?"

Artie looked so uncomfortable, and it would have been funny if Quinn wasn't already so annoyed, "Uh, kind of."

"But mostly it's her personality," Kurt put in smoothly.

Quinn shifted her angry eyes back to him until Santana took her attention away, "So, you think she could be a good kisser, Q?"

"I don't know, why wouldn't she be? Her lips are soft and, uh, I mean, they look like they are, not that I'd actually know but they look it, right?" She glared at the safest person there for confirmation.

"I g-guess they do," Tina agreed awkwardly.

"Exactly. That's all I meant. And can we be done talking about RuPaul now?"

"Oh, God, I called you RuPaul in front of your Dads, didn't I?"

"Yes, but I don't think they noticed."

"I'm sorry, Rachel."

Rachel actually smiled, "You call me names when you get uncomfortable in a situation, remember? And you were definitely uncomfortable downstairs. It's never pleasant but I can let it slide under certain circumstances, for now."

Quinn nodded, still feeling bad about it.

"Besides, I'm more interested in hearing about how you were defending my kissing skills last night."

"Oh, well that part kind of ended there. You might not like the rest so much."

"Tell me anyway."

Quinn refilled her punch glass and then turned away from the Gleeks, sick of getting the third degree. She mentally mocked the dancers closest to her – everyone sucked! And then she wondered where Finn had gotten to. He couldn't still be in the bathroom, it had been twenty minutes and there was never a line for the boys.

As she was taking a sip of her sweet, fruity drink, Santana sidled up next to her, "So you ready to come clean about shit yet?"

Quinn spared her a brief sideways glance, "What?"

"Berry! I know you were lying earlier."

"Earlier?"

"Oh yeah, Santana and Brittany caught me as soon as I walked into the gym and dragged me into the corner. Well, Santana did; I think Brittany had been trying to talk her out of it because she kept trying to get S to dance with her instead."

"Where have you been?" Santana hissed, "I've been getting shit left and right from the squad about that stunt you pulled."

"I went home to change, and felt sick after all the jumping around so I took a nap. What's the big deal?"

"Rihanna! We have to dance to this!"

"What's the big deal? Q! You admitted to trying to kiss Stubbles, for fuck's sake! What do you think the big deal is? And what the hell possessed you to do it in the first place, let alone admit it in front of half the school?"

"None of your business."

"Yeah, well tell that to the rest of the Cheerios. Not to mention Coach is gunning for you for hijacking her half-time show."

That thought was a little scary, but after reading Santana's body language, she felt safe assuming it was a bluff.

"I can handle Coach Sylvester. Once I explain that Berry was trying to blackmail me, she'll appreciate what I did."

"Was she trying to blackmail you?"

"Yes."

"Come on, San, this is our song!"

They both looked at Brittany and then back at each other.

"So, you don't have a thing for her?"

"Santana," she sighed, "it's Manhands! How could I have a thing for her? If I was suddenly going to go gay it would at least be for someone on our end of the food-chain. I'm not desperate!"

"Quinn!"

"You have to stop shrieking my name like that or your Dads are going to start thinking I'm doing something to you that I shouldn't be."

"Yes, well they know me well enough to know that it's not something I'm enjoying!"

Quinn's brow furrowed, "I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing considering our history."

Rachel half-smiled, "Just tell me you start defending my honor again soon."

Shrugging her shoulders, Quinn made an eh sound.

"Okay, fine," Santana ran fingers through her hair, looking away for a moment, and when she looked back her eyes were full of sympathy. "But I'm your best friend, Q. If there was something going on, you'd tell me right?"

"Of course I would."

"And, I mean, Berry's not so bad, if you totally discount her terrible clothes and that annoying habit she has of speaking. I bet she's killer in the sack."

Quinn looked away as she blushed, "I really don't need to be thinking about what Berry is like in bed." She wasn't lying; there was no way she could let herself think about that kind of thing without losing her mind and acting on it – (Incidentally, she kept that bit out of the re-telling). "But if you want to give her a go, I won't judge," she added with a smirk.

No, she'd just kill her in her sleep at the next Cheerios sleepover.

"No thanks. But if you did like her, Quinn," Santana softened her voice even more. "We wouldn't judge either. It's totally okay if you do. We're your best friends, you can tell us."

She didn't even need Brittany's subtle headshake over Santana's shoulder to know what was what.

"Nice try, San, but I taught you that trick, remember?" It had been used on her more than once at Belleview. "But even if I fell for it, I still wouldn't have anything to tell. There's nothing going on between me and Berry, other than what I said in my speech, and now it's done."

"I'm surprised you didn't tell her I was dead to you now, as well."

Quinn shrugged sheepishly, "I actually may have said that too."

Rachel rolled her eyes, "Can we get back to the part where you thought it was okay to get drunk?"

Now she rolled her eyes, "I never thought it was okay! It just, look, listen."

"I know you were lying earlier."

"About what?"

"About trying to get into Berry's pants… or under those tiny skirts of hers, to put it more accurately.

Quinn turned to face her so fast she lost some of her punch over the side of her glass. She slurped the liquid from her wrist while she tried to think what to say, "You're delusional!"

"And you're in denial!"

"I'm not!"

"Oh, Berry's lips look so soft!"

"Screw you!"

"Yeah, because that makes me think I'm wrong. Look, some advice? Times two, actually. Stay the fuck away from Berry! It's doing your rep no good and your stock's already set to plummet. You should be doing damage control right now, not flirting with the crash."

Through gritted teeth she asked, "What's the second piece of advice?"

"Stay outta the punch. You've already outed yourself as a lesbi-tryer tonight, without alcohol. Now you've implied to the biggest gossips in Glee that you actually want to kiss Berry? I think one more glass and you're going to be singing an ode to Manhands on stage and we can't be friends anymore if you do that."

"What?" Quinn looked down at her glass in horror. "There's alcohol in this?"

"Big bowl of punch left unattended at Homecoming? Of course there is."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm not your keeper."

"I'm pregnant, Santana," Quinn's rising temper meant she had to struggle to keep her voice down. "How could you not tell me I've been consuming alcohol all night?"

"How is the fact that you're too stupid to know when something has alcohol in it my fault?"

"You wanted to know why I tried to kiss Rachel? This is why. She hates me and yet she's still a better friend to me than you have been all year. Why wouldn't I do whatever it took to keep that when you're the alternative?"

"Screw you, Fabray. If that's the way you want it, I hope you and your tranny lover are very happy together."

Quinn caught her arm before she could stalk off and Santana flinched back, expecting a slap, "Who spiked the punch?"

"Who do you think?" Santana yanked her arm away with a sneer and then she was gone.

Quinn shakily set her nearly empty glass down on the table and ignored the concerned looks of the Gleeks. None of them had bothered to her inform her it was spiked either, so screw them. Breathing heavily, she looked around for the source of all of her problems.

"So, who did spike the punch?"

"Who do you think?"

He wasn't hard to spot. He was jacketless, with his shirt untucked and sleeves rolled up and no tie. Any other boy here and she'd have thought the scruffy look was the result of getting warm and dishevelled from hours of dancing but Puck had probably arrived that way.

He was dancing with Kassie, another tick in the reasons-to-be-pissed-at-him column, but only until Quinn caught him by the open collar of his shirt and, without slowing down, dragged him from the dance floor and into the darkest corner of the gym.

She flinched as Kassie yelled after them, "Hey, get your dyke-y hands off of him! I don't want him catching your gay, Fabray!" but otherwise pretended she didn't care.

Puck didn't seem at all bothered by her cutting in, "What's up, Baby-Mama?"

"Ugh, don't call me that! And what's up is that I'm drunk, Puckerman!"

"Whoa, no way!" His eyes darted around over her head and he leered, "Okay, I'm up too, as in up for it, among other things. So, did you want to slip away, find an empty classroom or something?"

"Oh my God, you're a moron!" She slapped both hands at his chest, "I'm not propositioning you!"

"Quinn, are you okay? You haven't said anything for a few minutes and you've gone a little pink."

She shook her head to clear that part of the conversation from her thoughts, "I'm fine, just still not feeling very good."

"You got me drunk, asshole!"

"No I didn't. This is the first I've seen you all night."

She looked down at his bulging pants…

"Quinn! You could have warned me your story was about to get X-rated!"

She laughed at Rachel's flustered blushing, "It was a bottle, Rachel! In his pocket."

"Oh," waving a hand to fan her face Rachel giggled. "Well, it is Noah Puckerman you're talking about so my mistake is understandable."

Quinn sighed in agreement.

She pulled the quart bottle of gin from his pants. There was an inch left in the bottom.

"I assume the rest of this is in the punch. The punch I've had five glasses of tonight!"

He snatched it back and replaced it before anyone could catch him with it, "Yeah, so?"

"I'm not supposed to be drinking, Puck! My baby," she hissed, "is going to come out pickled!"

"Oh shit! Is it… are you… is everything okay?"

"How the hell do I know?" She slapped his chest again because the hard muscle beneath his shirt was somewhat satisfying to smack with the palm of her hand. "What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking: Who wants to drink virgin punch at Homecoming? Besides, it's what I do babe, you know that. And you weren't even here when I did it. I figured you were off doing something else. Or should I say someone else. What, did boning Berry get boring that quickly? Weird, I always thought she'd be red-hot. Like with the amount she talks and all that vocal training shit she does, she must give the most awesome h-"

"Quinn!"

She laughed again, "That was pretty much my reaction. Although it went more like…"

"Puck! Don't be so gross! And I was not boning Berry. Jeez, I wouldn't even know how to if I wanted to," hopeful pause in case he decided to offer some grossly graphic details on how she might do that (also left out of the retelling). "Which I don't."

"Fine, I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for why you both left the game at the same time."

Shit, she'd known sneaking off to lay in wait for her was a stupid move.

"Well, I don't know what her explanation is, but I didn't want to throw up on the side-lines. Side note, I don't think the baby is going to be an athlete when it grows up. It's really not a fan of sports."

"So, like, you weren't off somewhere macking on her?"

She glared at him.

He looked disappointed, "So, like, you just kissed her the one time?"

"No!" she said honestly, "Look, Puck, I didn't kiss her that day in the bathroom, okay?"

"You just wanted to?"

"I pretended to!"

"How do you pretend to kiss someone?"

She shrugged; Rachel never had explained that one to her, either.

"I thought you were pretending."

"Yes, I got that."

"But you weren't?

Quinn leaned closer and kissed her cheek, making Rachel smile, "What do you think?"

"I think maybe you weren't pretending. And now you come to mention it, I don't really know how you'd pretend to kiss someone either."

"It's okay, I figured it out."

She grinned at Rachel's adorably confused face.

"Yunno, at least it makes sense now."

"What does?"

"Why you never wanted another go on the Puckasarus (edited slightly for the retelling)," he shrugged, grinning at her discomfort. "I mean, no straight chick in their right mind is gonna say no, right?"

"I am straight! And in my right mind. The reason I'm not interested, Puckerman, is because you're a pig who says things like that."

"Not possible, babe. Straight chicks always find my piggishness part of my charm. But hey, no worries, right? You wanna be a lesbo, I'm cool with that. Least I am if you let me watch you and Berry do it one time."

"I am not a freaking lesbian!" she screamed at him.

"Whoa!" He held his hands up and backed off a step. "Whatever, it's cool."

"No, it's not! It's not cool. How can it be cool? Everyone thinks I kissed Rachel!"

"That's kinda because you told them you did."

She wasn't listening, the alcohol was talking for her now. "Everyone's going to be talking about it. As soon as I walked in everyone was looking at me. They were whispering, about me doing… that. Why is it such a big deal? I'm Quinn Fabray, I should be able to kiss who I want to kiss, but no, everyone has to make this big fucking deal about it. This school sucks, Puck, this whole town sucks! Why can't people just mind their own damn business?"

It was Puck's silence that made her realize she'd over-shared. She glared at him to let him know whatever he was thinking wasn't to come out of his mouth.

He ignored her, "So, let me get this straight? Are you saying you do want to kiss Rachel?"

For a second she almost just gave in. It was so hard keeping this to herself. It was too big to be contained within her mind, it was pushing out at the edges, pulsing behind her tightly pursed lips, needing release.

She couldn't though, because it was too big and she had a boyfriend and a baby on the way and… and because this was Puck.

"No, I'm not saying that. I just…" She shook her head, trying to think beyond the gin fogging up her brain, "… I did what I did tonight to get myself out of a bad situation and somehow I managed to make it ten times worse."

"You regret making the speech."

"Rachel, I was talking to Puck, I had to say whatever I could to…"

"Quinn, don't make excuses, just tell me the truth. Do you regret making that speech about me?"

There was a lengthy pause before she admitted, "Yes."

Rachel's head dropped until she was staring at her knees, "I see. That's why you were so cold earlier; you were regretting everything that happened last night. Why did you even bother coming over today? I mean, it's not really your style to let me down gently."

"Yes, Rachel, I regret making that speech but… if I had to go back and relive yesterday, with hindsight being twenty-twenty, I'd still make it."

"Really? But why?"

"Because the alternative would suck even more. And besides, there's stuff that happened after the speech that I don't regret. At all."

Rachel smiled, shyly, "What happened next?"

Quinn cleared her throat uncomfortably, "Uh, that was pretty much it."

She didn't want to regale her with the rest of her meltdown in front of Puck, not when it had mostly consisted of her telling him repeatedly and very drunkenly about how disgusting she found the idea of kissing a girl, especially Rachel, and him offering (repeatedly and drunkenly) to help cleanse her mental palate of the thoughts. Oh, but wait!

She grinned, "There is a little more. Let me tell you how you pretend to kiss someone."

"Um, if it's to do with Finn I think I'd rather not know."

"Oh no, Finn certainly didn't try and kiss me last night, pretend or otherwise," she said coldly, but seeing Rachel's instant concern she shook the dark feeling away and hurried on with her story, picking up about fifteen minutes later to avoid any unpleasantness.

"You need to chill, Quinn! Being this angry can't be good for the baby."

"Shut up!"

"Look, do you want some more punch? I mean, you're already toasted so one more glass can't hurt and it might help you relax or something."

"Are you crazy? It's probably already going to come out an alcoholic now thanks to you…" She trailed off when the music cut out and Figgins started speaking over the microphone, but just for a second because she was on a roll here. "If it has to go for baby counselling then you're paying for it. Do you understand? I'm not asking for anything from you, Puck, except that you don't let me consume any dangerous substances – inadvertently or otherwise. At least while I'm pregnant."

"Babe, I think you're wanted on stage."

"What?" She glanced over her shoulder, "Are you even listening to me? I'm trying to say…"

"Quinn! Homecoming, remember? You're supposed to be up there."

"Oh yeah," Quinn turned to face the stage, staggering a step sideways as she did so. "I'm not going up there."

"You kind of have to, you're one of the princesses and Figgins has called your name like three times."

"Shit," they were in dark corner, hidden away, but even from here she could see everyone impatiently looking around for her. She couldn't really be bothered with any of this right now, but she could see Kassie up there on the stage grinning, and Santana too, and there was no way she was letting either of them win this by default! "Okay," she took a deep breath, "I can do this."

"Good luck."

"Wait," she caught his arm before he could walk away. "There's no way I can face making another speech tonight when I win so will you do something for me?"

"Like what?"

She whispered quickly in his ear.

He laughed but didn't jump immediately on board, "I don't know, babe. If I had a balaclava maybe but…"

"Please?" She stepped closer, eyelashes fluttering.

"I don't know," he said again, eyes darting from her to the stage and back again. "What's in it for me?"

"Well, I could…" She stepped closer and placed a hand behind his neck, fingers stroking his hot skin. "…make it worth your while somehow."

"Yeah?" he breathed.

"Sure," she pulled herself up on her tiptoes, pressing against his chest, "So will you do it?"

"I guess?"

"Promise?" she breathed against his lips.

"Yeah, whatever, I promise."

"Thank you. Now I better go before they give my crown to someone else. Oh, and by the way, Puck? That's how you pretend to kiss someone."

He looked stunned. "What? You're such a bitch!" he smirked. "Wait, is that what you did to Berry?"

She grinned, "Pretty much, although we were in a locked bathroom and we had no time limit so it lasted longer."

"Oh fuck, that is so hot," he groaned, before running off.

"I can't believe you were going to kiss Noah Puckerman!"

"I wasn't going to kiss Puck. I never intended to kiss Puck."

"But…"

"But nothing. It was a means to an end, that's all."

Rachel thought about that for a minute while Quinn quietly cursed ever putting the idea of her kissing Puck into her head.

"I never realized you were so concerned with Homecoming Queen."

"Honestly, between finding out I was pregnant and all of the drama with you, I didn't even have a chance to give it much thought until this week."

"So did you win?" At Quinn's frown, Rachel quietly added, "I'm sorry."

"Why? It's not your fault. Although technically, it is a known fact that most people don't vote until they get to the dance so…"

"I was saying sorry for your loss, not out of any sense of guilt," Quinn just nodded, feeling morose all over again. "What was the end?"

"I'm sorry?"

"To what end did you pretend-kiss Noah?"

"Oh, that was actually awesome!" Quinn laughed as she remembered it. "It was the only minute of the dance that was enjoyable."

"What happened?"

"Well, Kassie won the crown. I know, right? She's going to be even worse than she already was. And I think the only reason she lived long enough to have the tiara put on her stupid head was because Santana was as shocked as I was. Anyway…"

Kassie was grinning from ear to ear as Principal Figgins placed the plastic tiara delicately on her head and announced her as the winner for a second time, no doubt for those who couldn't believe it the first time. Santana was fuming, her smile still fixed in place but now looking deadly as she glared at Quinn like this was her fault.

Wishing there was a trap door in the stage that she could fall through, Quinn just hiccupped.

Kassie had the microphone in her hand now. "First of all, I'd like to thank my fellow princesses…" she turned to smile smugly at them. "After all, if they weren't all such big losers I might never…" Kassie's acceptance speech ended abruptly in a scream of horror.

It all happened so fast that Quinn nearly screamed, too, as a bulky figure in a white lab coat and large floppy-brimmed straw hat ran into the middle of them all and yanked the hem of Kassie's pretty dress right up above her tiara. The impulse only lasted a second and then she dissolved into giggles with everyone else.

"Quinn, no!" Rachel shouted through shocked laughter. "How could you?"

"Hey, how could I know she wasn't going to be wearing any underwear?"

"What? Oh my God!" Laughing hard, Rachel fell back on the bed. "That is so despicably awful."

Quinn was laughing too but she tried to play it cool with a shrug, "She's had it coming since she messed with you. Although I have to admit I wish I hadn't been watching. Her bare ass wasn't something I needed to see."

"So, you didn't like it?"

"Rachel!" Quinn slapped the other girl's thigh as she giggled. "No!"

A knock at the door sobered her up but Rachel was still a giggling mess on the bed as she called out, "Come in!"

"Hey, we heard a lot of shouting," one of Rachel's dads – not LeRoy – poked his head around the door. "Everything okay?"

"Yes, Daddy, everything's fine."

He watched the two of them, Rachel trying to stem her giggles as she writhed on the bed and Quinn sitting upright and tense but with a smile still tugging at her lips, before nodding and pulling the door closed.

"I don't think your Daddy likes…"

The door opened again and his head pushed back into the gap. Still seeing nothing untoward, he hesitated.

"Did you forget something, Daddy?"

"Um, yes. Late lunch in an hour. Quinn's welcome to stay." The door closed again.

They both waited a beat, half-expecting another encore, but when it didn't come they burst into giggles again.

"Do you want to stay for lunch?" Rachel asked as she calmed down.

"If you'd like me to."

Quinn flopped backwards beside Rachel. She was suddenly feeling so much better. Maybe time had dealt with her hangover or perhaps just releasing some of her pent-up feelings had been enough. Either way, other than some residual nausea, which she knew exactly how to take care of, she was feeling pretty good now.

She rolled to her side and picked up Rachel's closest hand in both of hers, playing with her fingers and circling a thumb around her palm, "Do you think your Daddy will check on us again before lunch?"

"Probably not, why?"

Quinn wriggled closer until she was pressed against Rachel's side. Angling her nose towards her neck, she asked, "May I?"

"Of course."

Quinn delved in and all was right with the world.

Rachel brought her other hand over to pet her hair, pushing it back from her face and then running her fingers through it, "I really like laying here like this with you."

"Me too."

A few minutes of blissful, silent sniffing passed, "Quinn, I have to move."

"Why? No you don't." Quinn rolled so she could hook a knee over Rachel's, keeping her pinned in place. "It can't be lunch time yet?"

"No, but I need to clean up before lunch."

Quinn nuzzled deeper, "You've already showered, how much cleaner do you need to be? You smell awesome." She kissed the skin beneath her nose. Yeah, she was feeling a lot better. "And you taste awesome."

The hand in her hair pulled slightly, not unpleasantly so. "Quinn."

She opened her mouth, mostly just to feel her lips move against Rachel's skin, "Do you know, the one thing I didn't tell everyone last night when they were taunting me about you, was how good it felt to do this."

"That's hardly surprising."

"I wanted to." She sucked lightly before releasing the skin and moving her lips up under Rachel's jaw. "So badly. To tell them they were all losers because they couldn't look past their own narrow minds to even imagine how good it is to kiss you. I feel sorry for them."

"Quinn, you need to stop talking dirty to me!"

She raised her head to meet Rachel's eyes with an amused frown, "First, I wasn't talking dirty to you. Second, why?"

"Because I've been doing my best to compartmentalize my priorities while we've been having a serious discussion, but I really can't leave the carpet any longer. I'm worried it will stain and while the fresh air from the window is saving us at the moment, it's going to get cold soon and the vomit smell will start to permeate the…"

Quinn had already rolled back onto her back, "Who needs to run over a mailman when they have you around?"

"What?"

"Nothing, you're right. You go and get the supplies, and I'll clean it up."

Rachel left quickly and Quinn closed her eyes, going back over what she'd told Rachel and thinking about the stuff she'd left out. There were some things she just couldn't tell. Things she felt awful about, even more so now after spending a few minutes of, um, special time with Rachel.

It made her feel stupid, thinking that kissing away the gay would be any more effective than trying to pray away the gay, or mind-wash it away. She could blame it on poor judgement because of the alcohol; it wouldn't be the first time, but – just like the first time – it didn't make her feel any better about it. Maybe looking at it from a scientific point of view would? She'd tried an experiment and now had conclusive proof that two minutes of kissing Rachel's neck was definitely more of a turn on than thirty minutes spent slapping hands away from the bottom of her dress in the astronomy classroom.

No, that didn't make her feel any better either, it just made her feel gayer, and except for when Rachel was actually physically right there with her, it was still too scary to deal with.

She sat up, scrubbing her agitated hands up and down the thighs of her jeans to ease the sudden rush of 'I-don't-want-to-be-gay!' panic, just as Rachel came back into the room with a bucket in one hand and three different bottles in the other.

Alarmed, she stopped inside the door, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Why? What do you mean?"

"You look like you're about to start crying again."

"Oh," for a moment she had felt on the verge but the feeling was already gone. The fear always retreated in Rachel's presence, like it knew it didn't stand a chance in the face of such fierce opposition. "No, I'm fine, just…" she shrugged like that was an answer and stood up to take the bucket from Rachel, "Here, let me."

"No, you sit back down. I'll do it."

"But it's my mess."

"Exactly," Rachel stubbornly refused to give up the bucket and knelt on the floor. "And you've only just started to feel better and doing this might set back your recovery. Besides, I enjoy cleaning. It's a wonderfully productive chore that helps unleash creativity. It's very suited to multi-tasking in fact and can be done at the same time as my vocal training and perfecting my solo performances for Glee. So by robbing me of the opportunity to do this you may also be damaging my future self's chance to shine."

Quinn held her hands up in surrender, "Then please, scrub my vomit from the floor because I wouldn't want to be responsible for that."

Taking her seriously, Rachel nodded and placed a small yellow cleaning-in-progress sign beside the contaminated area, "Thank you."

Grimacing at the patch of carpet that was now being sprayed with something that bubbled into a bright yellow foam on impact, she sat back down on the bed.

The room was silent while Rachel stared at her wristwatch, timing the foam maybe, until Quinn quietly broke it.

"I don't know anyone else who would do something like this for me."

"I haven't done anything yet."

"You know what I'm saying."

Rachel looked up earnestly, "I'm not sure that I do. Drat!" Her eyes darted back to her watch. "How many seconds do you think it took me to say that?"

Quinn chuckled, "I guess I'm just saying thank you."

"Oh, then you're welcome, but it really isn't a big deal. I like doing things for you."

"That's what I'm saying thank you for."

Rachel nodded distractedly and then nodded again as she deemed the waiting period over and picked a cloth out of the bucket. Wringing it out, she set to work and started to hum along with a melody in her head.

Quinn didn't recognize it at first but somewhere around the start of the chorus it made itself known as It Takes Two. Was it supposed to be some kind of message? Was she supposed to hum the boy parts? If Rachel had been singing she would have joined in automatically but she'd look stupid if she just started humming with her.

Choosing to ignore any potential hidden message – because she wasn't Inspector Clouseau and if Rachel wanted to tell her something she could use her words; she knew enough of them – Quinn decided not to continue the important conversation she'd been trying to have. It wasn't like it came easy to her at the best of times, and if Rachel was going to be difficult…

She looked around the room for a distraction but other than thinking up a few snarky comments about her posters and the elliptical machine in the corner, she couldn't find one.

Until there it was, right there on the bed with her. It was on the far side and had an empty notepad on top of it which was why she hadn't noticed it before, but now it was instantly familiar and Quinn pulled the open book towards her.

"Oh, shoot, no wait!" Rachel leapt towards her from a starter's crouch, yellow foam flying. "Don't!"

Quinn flung up an arm to keep her at bay and leaned over last year's Thunderclap to see what had Rachel so panicked.

It was immediately obvious.

She took a moment to soak up the meaning and then, hiding her grin in the page, said, "Santana is really pretty. I get why you'd want to look at her picture."

A deep breath was taken, followed by, "I'm not going to rise to that because I think if you really believed it you'd be much more jealous."

Quinn nodded, "Maybe. What's this?" She pulled a loose sheet of paper from between the next pages.

Rachel ducked under her arm and snatched it away. Quinn rolled onto her back as she saw her hide it behind her back and quirked an eyebrow.

"Well?"

"Nothing. It's nothing."

"If it's nothing, let me see it."

"No."

Quinn grinned, "Don't make me take it from you, Berry!"

"It's personal."

"I saw my name at the top," it had been the only thing she'd had time to see before it was snatched away. "Doesn't that sort of make it my business too?"

"If I wrote your name in my journal would that make my journal your business?"

"Sooo that's a loose leaf diary entry."

"No."

"Then your argument isn't valid." What was it that Rachel was so determined to keep a secret? Quinn wasn't going to take it from her – if privacy was that important to the other girl then she'd respect it – but it just made her want to know what it was even more, "Tell me."

"Never!"

"Are you ticklish, Rachel?"

"No!" Rachel said, backing up fast to put her desk chair between them.

Quinn smirked but didn't move from the bed to call her bluff, "I don't need to see it, but if I was to guess correctly, you wouldn't outright lie to me, would you?"

"I suppose not," Rachel agreed, albeit reluctantly.

"Okay. First guess: you were writing me a Dear John letter full of big words, telling me how pissed off you were at me for not turning up. And then you signed it with your full name and a gold star at the end?"

Calming down slightly, Rachel smirked, "Not even close, but I like your attention to detail."

"Good. Second guess: you were writing a song to use to serenade me in Glee, telling me how much I suck and how better off you are without me."

"No, Quinn, and I can't help noticing that your guesses have developed a theme."

She shrugged her shoulders, "Well, you won't let me see it so I'm assuming it's something bad."

"It's not," Rachel assured her. "Or at least, it's only half bad." Quinn quirked an eyebrow but Rachel didn't elaborate further, "So you would consider me finishing with you to be bad then?"

Quinn rolled her eyes and looked away, "Don't ask stupid questions."

"I don't think it's a stupid question. You won't give me a straight answer to the status of our relationship…"

"It's not a relationship!"

"Exactly! So how am I supposed to know if you would considering being rid of me once and for all a bad thing or not?"

"Do you honestly believe I would have put myself through what I did last night if I didn't care about you?"

"Caring about someone and wanting to be with them are two different things."

Quinn glared at her, "I like you. I enjoy spending time with you. I want to get to know you better and hang out and have fun." She took a breath, "But I don't want any more than that. This has already gone further than I ever intended it to; I never actually planned to let it get anywhere – it all just happened so fast, but I'm okay with it, more than okay with it, with us, and where we are now, but I don't want anything more serious. Like I keep saying, I have way too much serious in my life already."

Rachel didn't seem upset or angry, only thoughtful as she listened and then nodded her head once Quinn had finished.

"So, if I could just summarize: you want to be with me, providing we remain casual, no formal commitment, just hanging out?"

The emphasis on the euphemism wasn't snarky or anything, leaving Quinn with no idea how she felt about her offer.

"Yes."

"Okay, could you just give me a minute?" Rachel turned to her desk and scribbled something on the piece of paper she'd been hiding behind her back.

Quinn smiled, "Third guess: that's your pro and con list, isn't it?"

Rachel looked over her shoulder, blushing, "Um, yes. How did you know?"

Quinn rolled her eyes again, "Then don't you think I have a right to see it?"

"I'll show you mine when you show me yours."

"In your dreams, Berry!" she teased, laughing as Rachel blushed even darker.

She gave as good as she got though, "A few of them, yes."

Her cheeks grew warm but she feigned nonchalance by picking up the yearbook and mentally self-critiquing her photo. She was so fresh-faced and wholesome, it was almost nauseating. Her nose looked awesome, of course, but the amount of hairspray she'd used that day to keep her ponytail tight and perfect made her hair look dry and malnourished under the bright light the photographer had used. Her patented 'cheer-smile' made her mouth look too big and… wait.

There was something in this yearbook that wasn't there in her own copy… the ghost of a kiss.

She glanced up at Rachel to see her back was still turned as she added something to her ridiculous pro/con list and then ran a fingertip lightly over the page. It wasn't greasy, so it hadn't been made this morning while Rachel was waiting for her. She smirked, wondering how long and how often and whether it was fair game for teasing or if she should refrain from embarrassing the girl. After all, when she'd been Lucy, unable to get a real boy to even look at her, let alone get close enough for their lips to touch, she'd spent three months kissing her poster of Chad Michael Murray goodnight, and she would be horrified if anyone were to ever find that out.

But, nah… this was Rachel Berry and teasing her was what Quinn did best.

"Uh, Rachel?"

"Yes, Quinn?" Rachel turned to perch on her desk, full of innocent inquiry that Quinn was about to really enjoy crushing.

"Did you at least ask permission before you got your mack on?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Is that why you're such a good kisser even though you've made out with a grand total of me? You've been practicing behind my back? Well, not really behind my back I suppose," she added with a sly grin.

"I really don't know what you're talking about."

She held the book up, pages facing out and tapped her picture, "I know a lip-gloss stain when I see one, Berry."

Rachel's face went so red her ears were practically purple, "Oh – that – no – I can explain! It isn't what you think! That's… it was like it when I got the book, I-I swear! " she stammered out.

Quinn fell back on the bed giggling, dropping the book to cover her face as tears of laughter sprang to her eyes, "Y-you s-swear?" she was having trouble speaking. "What do you swear on? That poster of Barbra Streisand on the wall, maybe?" she teased.

"No! That poster has been officially autographed!" Realizing she'd just ratted herself out, Rachel slapped a hand to her face and backtracked, "Okay, I don't swear. I admit it; I kissed your photo once!"

"Once? Do you swear?"

"Okay, maybe five times," she said quietly.

"Five times?" Quinn was overtaken by giggles again.

"Stop it! I mean it, Quinn, stop laughing at me." Rachel had walked over at some point, close enough to slap her knee. "It's not like I was sucking your face off or anything, they were just friendly kisses."

"That doesn't make it any less embarrassing, Rachel!" Oh, God, she was going to have her baby right on Rachel's bed if she didn't stop laughing, or pee herself, or something. "Tell me, who's better? Me or photo-me?"

"Photo-you," Rachel said grumpily. "By miles!"

Giggles still escaping, Quinn forced herself to sit up again and grabbed Rachel's hand to pull her closer. "But photo-me doesn't let you get to second base, does she?"

Rachel made a token effort to resist her but she ended up standing between Quinn's knees anyway, "How do you know?"

"Photo-me doesn't have boobs."

"Oh. Right."

With a hand behind Rachel's neck, Quinn drew her down, "Show me what photo-me does that I don't, so I can beat that bitch at kissing you."

Rachel put on the brakes a few inches away, "I have a spare toothbrush if you need to use it."

Quinn held her there for a beat as the moment died around them and then released Rachel's neck to pick the book back up. She flicked back a few pages until she found the Black Students Union club photo. It wasn't hard to pick Rachel out of the small crowd.

"You wouldn't ruin a spontaneous romantic moment by asking me to brush my teeth, would you?" she asked the photo.

"Her taste buds are made of paper."

"Whatever," Quinn stood up from the bed, book still in hand, and made her way to the bathroom.

"The spare toothbrush is in the left hand drawer, let me get it for you."

"No," she held a hand up to stop Rachel from following her into the bathroom, "I can find it."

"Are you mad?" Rachel asked, nervously wringing her hands in front of her.

"Not at all. Photo-Rachel and I would just like some time alone," with a wink she closed the door in Rachel's surprised face.

Rachel stared at the bathroom door, eyes bugged out as that wink sent pleasant reactions racing through her body. And then, when she'd gotten herself back together, she grinned.

So far, today had been like every other time she'd spent one on one with Quinn; a constant rollercoaster of up, down, around and around. A ride that was at once both agonizingly painful and beautifully pleasurable. And they'd only been together a few hours, just what might the rest of the day have in store?

She went back to cleaning the carpet, scrubbing out the rest of the foam before applying some bleach-less disinfectant to the area and rubbing that in too, before washing the entire patch in clean water to get the chemicals out. She was just spraying a small amount of liquid carpet freshener over the damp spot when Quinn re-emerged from the bathroom.

"You were in there a long time."

Quinn cocked an eyebrow, "Is it considered polite on your planet to inquire about someone's toilet habits?"

Rachel blushed, "No, I was just… I was worried you were sick again."

Quinn grinned, "Relax, Berry. I was just ensuring I was minty fresh and finding out if photo-Rachel is a better kisser than you."

"Is she?" Rachel asked, for a silly second scared that she was.

"No, but she goes further than you do," Quinn handed her the book as she passed by to the bed.

Rachel thought her face was going to melt off as she looked down and saw the three pale pink lipstick marks – one on her face, one across her chest and one… significantly lower down!

"Quinn!"

Quinn laughed, "Don't look so scandalized. It's only paper."

"But still!" Rachel was still staring at the page; she couldn't seem to look away.

"Have you finished down there?"

She shook her head, still staring.

"I know you're a bit of a narcissist, and worryingly I usually find it a little endearing, but I'm starting to get jealous of the way you're looking at your own picture."

"Sorry."

She tried to shake the arousal she was feeling away and set the book aside, but after pouring the dirty water down the toilet and thoroughly washing her hands, when she came back to the bed her eyes went straight back to the kissed photo.

"If you like it that much I can do it for real, you know?"

Rachel's eyes shot to her, "What?"

"Oh, shi–!" Quinn's eyes bugged as she realized what she'd implied. "I, uh, just meant this one," she rushed out, poking the lipstick print over Rachel's mouth.

"Oh. No, that's okay."

Quinn looked hurt, "You don't want to? I just brushed my teeth like three times."

"It's not that. And I do," Rachel crawled onto the bed but stayed a respectable distance away. "It's just… while I would have been happy to simply hang out with you when you first arrived, several things have come up since then that I think we need to address first."

"No. I think we've addressed enough for one day."

"Quinn…"

"Rachel, I'm serious. I told you about last night. I've opened up about other stuff even though I had no intention of doing so. I've given everything I possibly can today. So, unless you want to talk about the weather, or Marley and Me, or the history assignment or, I don't know, even Sectionals is an okay topic, then forget it."

"I want to talk about what happens at school on Monday."

"What do you mean? Nothing's going to happen. Nothing that doesn't usually happen anyway."

"I mean, what will it be like, between us?"

Quinn looked both guilty and impatient but she answered, "The same as it always is. Why would it be any different?"

"Everyone is going to be under the impression that you tried to kiss me. Do you honestly think if we just act normally no one will say anything?"

"We have to act normal," Rachel didn't miss the meaning behind the shortening of that word. "We have no choice; I have no choice. During school hours we have to be the way we've always been."

"So you'll be horrible to me and I'll pretend I don't care?"

"Yes."

"Doesn't that seem a little…?" She didn't get to finish.

"Rachel, don't pull this on me, okay! I'll tone down the mean girl attitude around you, and it's not like I'm going to slushie you in the hallways, but I can't talk to you in them either," Quinn looked away.

"I know we'll have to be discreet but…"

"No! This isn't up for discussion. As soon as we step foot in McKinley, I'm the bitch that hates you for trying to steal my boyfriend. It can't be any other way. I mean, maybe, occasionally, we can meet up in our spot at lunch or if we have study hall at the same time, but only very occasionally and if there's no chance of any of the Gleeks noticing we're both missing at the same time."

Rachel looked down at her knees and sighed heavily. So far, this was going exactly how she'd expected, but desperately hoped that it wouldn't.

"I'm not trying to hurt you," Quinn said softly.

"I know," and that was the thing, she did know that, but it hurt anyway and Quinn didn't care enough to not do it. "But why can't we find some middle ground? Maybe not right away, but we can let the dust settle and then at least be friends in school."

"No. I can't be your friend."

Okay, that hurt a lot more.

"Rachel, think about it? If I start sitting with you at lunch, then Finn is going to be sitting with us and how long do you think it's going to take people to notice that I'm paying you more attention than I'm paying to my boyfriend?"

"Then don't pay me any attention, just sit with me!"

"It's impossible for me to do those two things at the same time! Hell, even Finn will notice, it'll be that obvious."

She smiled, just a little, at that.

"And all of the Glee kids are already suspicious and not all of them are scared of me. We have to give them absolutely no reason to think that anything I said in my speech wasn't true."

"But Quinn…"

"No!" she shouted it this time, "I did what I did for you last night. I stood up there and put myself on the line so we'd have a chance because you said it was the only way. And I will handle the crap that comes with it. But now this is my only way and I guess you have to decide if you can do the same."

Rachel stared into her eyes for the longest time, really not knowing her answer. Her initial response was yes, of course she could! Because surely she would do anything to keep Quinn… but there was still all this doubt and rather than alleviating it, Quinn just kept adding to it.

"I need to put it on my pro/con list so that I can look at it objectively," she muttered, starting to get off of the bed.

Quinn caught her arm, preventing her, "Fine, but because I know it's going down as a con, you have to let me give you a pro, too."

As Quinn pulled down on her arm, she pushed up on her knees, bringing their lips together before Rachel had a chance to object. It was nothing like the kiss in foyer earlier; it was sweet and gentle and subtly insatiable, until her hands were wrapped in blonde hair, keeping Quinn close.

"Lunch in ten minutes, girls!"

The separated, grinning at each other. Quinn reached up between them to rub a little of her own lipstick from Rachel's bottom lip with her thumb, before brushing it tenderly over her cheek.

"That does count as a pro, right?"

"Definitely."

"Then you had better go add it to your list."

Smiling, Rachel jumped from the bed to do just that. It only took a second to add 'spectacular kisses' to the pro list, but the addition to the con side of things took a little longer.

Quinn's phone started ringing before she was halfway through and – noting the ringtone – she skipped down a few lines and wrote 'still has a boyfriend' before going back up to complete her previous paragraph.

Behind her, Quinn pulled her cell phone from her pocket and answered the call, "Hi!"

Considering Rachel only had Quinn's side of the conversation to go on that hadn't been the most auspicious start, it was far too bubbly.

"I don't know, I'm kind of doing something right now."

Rachel didn't even try not to eavesdrop, it would have been pointless anyway.

"Oh, nothing much. I'm just about to have lunch, though."

So she was nothing much. That was nice.

"No, at home. Where else would I be having lunch?"

…

"You want to take me to lunch? Finn, you've never taken me to lunch."

Say no, say no, say no!

"I know we have to talk, I'm just surprised… You walked out on me, Finn, remember?"

Rachel's eyes widened. When had that happened?

"Okay, I know. No, I'll meet you. No, don't pick me up, I'll meet you there."

What?

"Is an hour okay? You can't wait one hour for lunch? Oh, Saturday practice, I forgot."

Rachel's shoulders slumped as she set her pen aside, paragraph still unfinished.

"No, I can be there in fifteen minutes. Okay, bye."

She turned slowly, leaning back against her desk as Quinn put her phone away. She waited for the blonde to say something, to start making her excuses, but she seemed intent on not noticing Rachel was waiting.

She was going to have to speak first, "I thought we were going to be spending the whole day together."

"So did I; now we're not. Do you think your Dads will be upset that I'm not staying for lunch? They won't have made extra just for me, will they? I don't want to look like I'm bailing on their invitation."

"You are bailing, Quinn, but frankly I'm less concerned with how upset my parents might be than with how upset I am."

"I have to meet him. I need to do some damage control, the sooner the better."

"Great!" She flung her hands in the air. "Now not only am I going to be alone all afternoon, I'm going to be plagued by images of 'Under the shirt? Over the bra!' Unless you're really trying to sell it and then, naturally, I expect the bra will come off completely."

Quinn's eyes narrowed as she stepped towards her, pulling the desk chair out of the way so that she could get closer, "I'm going to let what you just implied about me go because you're working yourself up into some kind of frenzied state that I thought only muppets were capable of achieving, but don't ever imply it again. What I do with my boyfriend is private and if I feel the need to go a little further than I usually do just to reassure him that he's not actually a clueless loser who is dating a giant lesbian, then that's what I'll do – without any social commentary on it from you. Are we clear?"

Rachel stared defiantly back at her until it became obvious that Quinn wasn't going to move or say anything until she got a response.

She crossed her arms, looked to the side and nodded, "Fine, they're your boobs, you can do what you want with them."

Quinn chuckled, "Thank you, but I'm meeting him for the lunch time special at Breadstix and I don't think my breasts are likely to even come up in conversation."

"What is going to come up in conversation? Me?"

"Honestly? I don't really know. We didn't part on the best of terms last night. If you really want to know, I've spent most of the day waiting for a 'break-up' text from him."

"Oh, Quinn."

The blonde stepped away before Rachel could hug her, "So I really don't know how this is going to go, but I have to try and salvage things. I can't walk into school on Monday without a boyfriend. I'll drop out first or transfer again or something."

Rachel placed a soothing hand on her arm, "It won't be that bad."

"Yes, it will!"

She flinched back at the intensity. Obviously she wasn't going to be able to say anything right at this point; hardly surprising when she was both jealous and disapproving of Quinn's attitude. The best thing she could do was let her go before it turned into another argument between them or worse, Quinn really did decide to transfer schools. Glee Club would be down to ten members – Mike still hadn't come back – meaning they would have to drop out of Sectionals!

"Go and talk to him. See where you stand. Maybe it's a make-up lunch instead of a break-up lunch. As gallant as Finn can be, I can't imagine him spending money to end things with someone. And there's the baby; I don't think he'd leave his baby just because you pretended to kiss someone. If you need me to vouch for anything call me – preferably with a text with the script you'd like me to follow prior to the call would be appreciated, but I am excellent at improv so if that's not possible I'll manage."

"Thanks, Rachel, but if I do call on you he's going to know we've spoken since yesterday and nobody can know that."

"Right, of course," she flashed her oft-practiced show-smile. Fake-cheerful was about as close as she could get to the real thing. "Okay, off you go then. Would you like me to make your excuses to my Dads?"

"No, I'll do it; I don't want them to think I'm any ruder than they already do," she let her hand be taken in Quinn's as the blonde walked to the bedroom door. "Come on."

In the kitchen her Dads were already seated at the table, helping themselves to the store-cooked roasted chicken and the store-prepared salad. There were two spare plates waiting for them, but nothing had been formally laid out, making Quinn's abrupt departure less of an offence to good manners.

"Tuck in, girls," her Dad waved his knife about to indicate all of the dishes. "Rach, we got you some of that Moroccan couscous you like and Quinn, I have no idea if you're veggie like Rachel or normal like the rest of us, but there's plenty of each to go around."

"Oh, Quinn's definitely normal, Dad, almost religiously so," she bit her lip after the jibe escaped and wished she had better control over her brain-to-mouth functions when Quinn glanced at her, hurt.

"Actually, Mr. Berry, I really appreciate the invitation but I'm afraid I can't stay for lunch now after all. My boyfriend just called and reminded me that I already had a lunch date with him. I was having such a nice time with Rachel this morning that it completely slipped my mind," she gave a small self-depreciating laugh and it should have sounded fake but it didn't. "It all looks lovely, though, and I'm sure it tastes far more wonderful than what I am about to suffer through at Breadstix, but I'd feel bad if I stood him up."

"That's fine, Quinn, maybe another time."

Her Daddy nodded his agreement.

"I hope so," Quinn smiled. "Anyway, I'd better be going. Nice to see you both. Rachel, walk me to my car?"

Despite the polite tone, it hadn't really been a question and Rachel followed her dutifully back into the foyer and out on to the driveway.

Quinn opened the door but didn't get in, "I'd appreciate it if when you're angry with me, you save up all your snide comments until we're alone."

"And I'd appreciate it if you didn't give me reasons to be angry."

"I'm not trying to make you angry; I don't even know why you are. We've just spent three hours together and I'm probably not even going to spend a full sixty minutes with Finn. And it's not like you asked me to stay for lunch, your Daddy did. So if anything, it's him I'm letting down and he didn't seem to really care."

"My Daddy wasn't on a date with you, I was."

"Not a date, we were just hanging out."

"Sorry, I forgot, Finn gets the dates," Rachel turned to lean against the side of the car, crossing her arms. She knew she was pushing into dangerous territory, doing exactly as she wasn't supposed to do, but the closer it came to Quinn driving off and leaving her, the more peevish she was feeling about it. "I get morning sickness and mood swings."

"You have an issue with my mood swings?" Quinn asked pointedly. "At least I can blame my baby hormones. What's your excuse?"

She cast her eyes to the driveway, "I just don't want you to go. I know you have to," she said before Quinn could say it for her. "I just wish you didn't. You're going on a date with Finn now and the next time I'm going to see you is Monday when I'm not even going to be allowed to speak to you. I'm just feeling a little insecure about it and I wish we had more time together, that's all. You can go now, I won't try and delay you any longer."

Quinn scraped the sole of her sneaker back and forth across the black asphalt, "I could come back."

"You could?"

A shrug.

"When?"

Another shrug, "In a couple of hours?"

Rachel started to smile, but then frowned at her watch, "We wouldn't have much time. I have my vocal lesson between half-past five and half-past seven."

"Oh. Well, what about after?"

Quinn still wasn't looking at her, "Do you really want to? Or are you just offering because I'm making a fuss?"

That caused eye-contact, "Does it really matter? You're still getting what you want, aren't you?"

"Yes it matters! I don't want you to come back if we're just going to sit in my room and be sullen with each other."

Quinn sighed, "So we won't sit in your room. We'll go out and be sullen with each other. I'll pick you up after your class if you like?"

"Really?" That made her eyes light up, "A date? A real one? But where would we go?"

"I don't know, I'll think of somewhere."

"What should I wear?"

Quinn rolled her eyes good-naturedly and slid down into the car. Pulling the door closed, she buzzed down the window, "Whatever you want."

"So I'll see you at half-past seven at the Lima Community Arts Centre?"

Quinn nodded, but… "I'll have to wait for you around the back, not out front. Mrs. Pierce gives dance lesson there some nights and I don't want to run the risk of one of those being a Saturday."

"That's fine," and it was, she didn't mind having to hide from Brittany's Mom if the payoff was Quinn taking her on an actual date. "It'll only take me a minute to walk around."

"Okay," Quinn smiled a happy, genuine smile that Rachel immediately returned, "I'll see you tonight."

Rachel nodded enthusiastically.

"Look, I really have to go, I'm already late, but…" Quinn looked in her mirrors and then twisted in the seat to look all around at the driveway, the front lawn, the neighbor's yard and the street – all were empty. "… Can your Dads see us out here?"

Rachel looked up at the house, "Not from the kitchen, why?"

"Because it means you can kiss me goodbye. If you wanted to," she added, sounding a little shy.

She wanted to! Hands gripping the bottom of the window she bent low enough to press her lips to Quinn's. The blonde had probably meant for it to be a quick, chaste peck – they were on her driveway in broad daylight after all – but Rachel was still feeling a little needy and kept her lips hostage until Quinn finally pulled back with a giggle.

"Okay, Berry, it's not like you're seeing me off on a long sea voyage. Save some for later."

She just grinned and stepped back as Quinn started the car and slid it into reverse.

Rachel waved as she backed out of the driveway and Quinn raised a hand from the wheel in reply before she was gone. Not even caring any more about Quinn's date with Finn – that was now going to be forty-five minutes long at best, ha! – she skipped back to the house for lunch, wondering if she could ask her Dads what she should wear that night or if that would be too much of a giveaway.

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