Thank you for all of the awesome reviews recently. They make writing this all the more worth it :) I have a few pm's to get back to still, but my time is rarely my own these days (the bean can now stand up and cruise along the furniture so now even the fricking floor is a baby hazard!) but I will reply soon as.I hope you like the new chapter; things are starting to advance . . . slowly.

Chapter Seventeen:

Break-ups, Make-ups and What-The-F*cks.

Half-way through the lunch period the following day everything changed for Quinn again when Coach Sylvester left her crying outside of the cafeteria.

She stood there, hugging her books to her chest and feeling as though every snide look and whisper that was being directed her way was skinning her alive. And yet, she was so numb that she couldn't do anything to make it stop. How could she anyway? Who would listen, who would care when they'd all seen her publicly stripped of her power?

She didn't see Rachel come running up. The first Quinn was aware of it, she was already hovering in front of her, eyes filled with concern.

"What happened? Are you okay?"

She couldn't even pretend to be. "No."

Her face crumpled and the next sob caught painfully in her chest and she needed Rachel's arms to stop vibrating nervously at her sides and be around her, but . . . but they were in the hallway and people were already staring. She hated that she still cared about that even now, she hated that Rachel cared enough about her caring and out of respect was staying a good arms length away when Quinn just wanted her to crush her in a hug, to hell with the consequences.

But as it happened, Rachel was doing the thinking for both of them.

"Quinn," she whispered, just loud enough to carry over her crying. "Quinn, sweetheart, you need to shout at me to leave you alone, okay? And then you're going to . . ."

She only half listened, the other half still hearing Coach Sylvester's words over and over and wondering why Rachel never wanted to hug her any more. Was she really that awful, that much of a disgrace? Was that why Rachel was keeping her distance?

"Okay, Quinn, now."

What? Oh, right.

"No! How many times do I have to tell you, RuPaul? Stay the hell away from me!" Her voice hitched so many times it came out feeble but it wasn't like everyone couldn't already see she was in floods of tears.

By the end of lunch they'd all know why too.

Rachel, looking so hurt that Quinn began to cry even harder, turned on her heel and fled in the opposite direction. Oh God, Rachel knew she hadn't meant that, right? Wasn't it all part of the plan? But why would Rachel want to help her when she kept shouting at her so horribly like that in public?

Most of the students who had been taking their time so they could gawp scurried away when she shouted, lest they be on the receiving end of the next barb, and so she was almost alone in the corridor when she dragged leaden feet to the empty choir room. When the door closed behind her she didn't know what to do next and so, dropping her books and bag on to the top of a desk she just held her hands to her face and gave in to a good sob-fest.

She was still in the middle of it when Rachel came in through the other door. Quinn wouldn't even have known she was there if she hadn't softly said,

"Can I have your key, please?"

"Bag. Side pocket," she whimpered.

The locks on both doors clicked a moment later and this time she heard Rachel's hesitant approach.

"Can you tell me what happened now?"

Quinn turned, throwing her arms around Rachel and collapsing against the smaller girl with her face buried in her neck.

"Oh, uh, Quinn . . ."

"Please don't push me away!"

"I would never but . . . um, I am about to fall over."

"What?"

The question was answered physically as the full weight of Quinn's taller frame proved too much to be supported on short notice and they fell. Thankfully Rachel had the presence of mind to lurch to the side and they fell on the piano stool, Rachel first, Quinn in her lap.

"Sorry," she snivelled, self-conscious over her utter breakdown and worried that she was completely squashing her.

Automatically, she tried to stand, but was restrained by Rachel's arms wrapping firmly around her middle. "It's okay. Stay. You're fine. It's okay, Quinn."

She snivelled some more. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, very sure. Now talk to me."

"Can I, um . . .?"

Rachel tilted her head to the side, exposing her neck. Quinn brushed some dark hair aside before dropping her nose to the skin and taking a deep, calming breath.

"What does it mean that this doesn't even feel weird any more?" she murmured before doing it again.

"We both know what it means," Rachel murmured back. "So is that why you're so upset? Because your morning sickness is back? You know it will pass again."

"No, I . . ." A fresh wave of tears came over her. "I'm not a . . . not a Cheerio any more."

"What? Why?"

"I guess Coach changed her mind. Realized how embarrassing it will be for her to have a fat girl on the squad. Why does it matter why. It was the only thing I had left going for me, and now that's gone too. I'm just . . . I don't know what to do. I don't even know who I am any more."

"But Quinn you're pregnant, not fat."

"Uh, yeah, I know that but one inevitably leads to the other."

"Not necessarily. If you take care with your diet and exercize gently throughout then you should never gain more than the weight of the baby. And anyway, you have weeks yet until you start sho . . ."

Quinn drew back when Rachel playfully rubbed a hand over her abs – playfully like Brittany might. There was not an ounce of the usual awe and gratitude that accompanied this level of touching between them. At least not on Rachel's part. It stung, but she couldn't bring herself to jump up from her lap and put a stop to the contact between them completely and so she didn't get it when Rachel was the one to flinch back as if Quinn had slapped at her fingertips.

". . .wing. Oh."

"What's wrong? I didn't mind," she said quietly to reassure her. "I mean, yes it was a little over-familiar for someone who only wants to be friends now, but I am sitting on you lap so . . ."

"No. It's nothing. Everything is as it should be!"

That didn't match up to anything Quinn had said at all, inciting her curiosity.

"Obviously," she said with mild sarcasm, and was then even more confused when she was encouraged to stand up by Rachel bouncing her knees up and down and, you know, pushing at her to make her move.

She staggered a step at the sudden ejection and then smoothly turned to face Rachel. "What's going on?"

"Going on? Why would anything be going on with you?" Rachel was already on her feet too. "I just have to, um, yes I have somewhere to be."

Why was Rachel looking at her stomach like that as she was edging around her to the door?

"Stop!" Rachel didn't. "I thought you were being there for me!"

Deep brown eyes filled with guilt shot up to meet her own. "I am, always. I just . . ." they were back down at her stomach again. " . . . I hope you both have a pleasant day!"

And just like that she was gone out of the door that still had the key in it and Quinn was left staring after her, wondering what the hell had just happened.

"Wait, both of who?"

As Rachel hurried away from the Choir room before Quinn could stop her she couldn't stop looking at her hand.

It was tingling with shock, excitement and discomfort because she knew something that she shouldn't be the first to know. And worse than that she hadn't even been brave enough to tell Quinn that her baby must now be showing because she had been able to feel the swell beneath the same palm that she now found so interesting!

But how could she tell Quinn that the moment she was dreading the most had finally arrived? Perhaps on a normal day honesty wouldn't be so hard, but Quinn was already so low.

So Rachel spent the afternoon hiding from Quinn. Even in the one class they shared –Math – she broke with her usual pattern and sat in the back corner and held her textbook up to hide her face when Quinn entered and took her usual seat in the middle of the classroom.

She justified the deceit by telling herself that Quinn would notice the small bump anyway the next time she took a shower and then she would never have to know that Rachel had discovered it first. But then the thought of Quinn coming to that realization while she was on her own made her feel like even more of a coward. The fear that would strike her would be agonizing in its intensity. Rachel could picture Quinn all too well with tears mingling with the water running down her face as she trailed a hand down and realized . . . and realized . . . something . . .. Rachel had to hold her book up again to hide her blushes and decided that thinking about Quinn and showers in the same sentence wasn't helpful to this situation at all!

She knew now that she had to tell her though, and before the end of the day. She wouldn't be able to look herself in the eye if she didn't. But how, after she had run out on the obvious opportunity? Rachel was still deliberating over it when the bell rang and her indecision had her running out again before Quinn had even closed her textbook.

Agreeing to meet Noah in the time between school ending and Glee club starting had seemed like a good idea at the time. He wasn't the most consistent or dependable boyfriend but he was good at making her feel like the only girl on the bleachers when they were there alone together. So a good distraction and a way to further avoid talking to Quinn.

"You can't say that if you've never even played it!"

"I don't need to play a computer game to know that the stereotypes you say it portrays are ludicrous bordering on offensive!"

"Offensive, seriously? What the fuck? So you're saying there are no Italian plumbers?"

"No! I'm saying not every Italian is a plumber, any more than every Italian is a pizza maker."

"Neither am I! . . . Look, how do you know the guys who made it ain't Italian anyway?"

"I hadn't thought of that," she admitted. "That would put a different light on it. Are they?"

"How the hell should I know?"

And they were back at square one! Noah saw it too and changed the subject; with his lips. Rachel went with it, for a few minutes, but today it wasn't enough to take her mind from her worries and she soon pulled back.

"I thought we were talking about my problem regarding Quinn." She had told him all about being able to feel the baby-bump as soon as she had arrived.

"No, we were talking about Mario Brothers and how Nintendo are bringing a new game out next month and I can't freaking wait." Noah's grin was wide and excited.

"Before that."

"Oh whatever. So she's showing. It was always gonna happen sometime. But nobody knew there would be another Mario game. So, sensationally-wise, it beats Quinn's baby-bump – hands down, right?"

Well, that was a different reaction to the first time she'd mentioned it when he'd been curious and weirdly edgy about her answers, but it just confirmed what her daddy always said: Boys were just plain unfathomable most of the time.

And so Rachel broke up with Noah. Not because Quinn had told her to yesterday – told, not asked, incidentally – but because it was the right thing to do. They had nothing in common anyway, aside from Glee club which he hardly ever seemed to want to talk about, and if she was honest with herself she had only really gone out with him because it proved to herself and others that she wasn't pining over Quinn. Which she wasn't any more in any case, so she could just let reality speak for itself.

She had enjoyed his attention too and the fact that, unlike some people, he was happy to be out and proud as her boyfriend, but his bitter remark about how they had never been friends was as clear as a slap in the face that he'd only wanted her for one thing. Kind of like Quinn, who was happy to date her in secret but had no wish to be her friend either.

What was so wrong with her that two of the most popular kids in school were happy to make out with her but refused to be friends with her? She could be a good friend, she knew she could, so why would nobody give her the chance to be?

Of course, there was another popular kid who had wanted to be her friend (and make out with her behind the closed doors of the auditorium) and she had repaid him by having an affair with his pregnant girlfriend.

Maybe she just wasn't cut out to be a friend, then. After all, it wasn't like any of the unpopular kids were falling over themselves to build a friendship with her either. If anything, they were always scrambling to get away from her.

The long and short of it, she was angry right now. Angry at Noah for turning her attempt at an amicable break-up into something acrimonious instead; angry at herself for caring when he clearly didn't and angry that Quinn was proved right about him from the start.

Glee club helped sooth her a little. Partly because having Finn back was a huge plus to their chances at Sectionals and the Club's overall dynamic, but mostly because she'd experienced a kind of gleeful madness (no pun intended) when slushying Mr. Schue. It had offset most of her fury.

It had only gone downhill from there though and it was about to get worse as Quinn cornered her by her locker. Many of the Glee kids were still busy at their own lockers so she imagined this was not going to be a pleasant confrontation but some skit on Quinn's part that she was expected to play along with to solidify the lie Rachel had perpetrated on her behalf.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry," Quinn whispered. "For dumping on you like that. It wasn't fair."

This was unexpected. Rachel started to . . .

"Don't look around. Someone will come to investigate."

"I imagine someone will at any second anyway," she replied but did as bid and fiddled about in her locker as if this conversation was an every day occurrence.

"Let me worry about that. So, are you okay?"

Had news of her and Noah spread already? "Yes, I'm fine. It's not like my heart was ever in it."

That made Quinn look like someone had just set fire to her competition pom-poms; she sucked in a breath and bit her lip before asking in a sad whisper, "Is that why you ran away earlier?"

"Of course not," she hastened to reassure her, because she didn't want Quinn to think she had left her for an urgent date with Noah. "That was for an entirely different reason, I promise."

Quinn gave a strained chuckle. "So there's more than one reason? That's good to know, or you know, not."

Thinking about the actual reason in question Rachel unthinkingly agreed, "No, it's not."

Quinn's features hardened, "Right. So thank you for your sensitivity; it means a lot."

"I was trying to be sensitive. I didn't want to blurt it out there when you were already feeling so horrible! And okay, maybe I should have told you so that you knew, but I'm only human and I get scared sometimes too."

"About what?"

"About bursting your bubble. About . . ." She could tell by Quinn's face that she just had to rip the band-aid off. " . . . Quinn, you're showing," she whispered.

"Showing what?" she asked ignorantly but Rachel caught the flash in her eyes and knew she already had an inkling of what she was about to say next.

"You have a tangible baby-bump," she explained anyway, her voice even lower than before. "I felt it in the Choir room and . . ." Quinn's hand went to her stomach instinctively. ". . . Don't. Wait until we're alone."

Quinn did lift her hand back up, but quietly scoffed, "We? You couldn't wait to run off earlier. I guess tangible evidence is just another reason for you to not want to be with me."

"Not at all!" If anything it was the opposite, she thought as she remembered the rush of excitement and tenderness that had accompanied the guilt. But she didn't want to go backwards and so she tacked on, "I'm still here for you, just as a fr . . ."

Quinn shook her head and looked away. "And how is having you as a friend going to help?" Rachel's bottom lip quivered but she was ready to deliver a suitably cutting remark of her own in retaliation when Quinn spoke again. "This isn't something a friend can help with-" she waved towards her stomach, "-unless you have a sizeable savings account and a holiday home somewhere away from Lima that I can run away to until after the baby is born."

Rachel did in fact have both – although her savings probably weren't sizeable enough to live on for a month let alone six of them – and her parents rented their apartment in Sandusky out for at least forty-eight weeks of the year and might notice if an expectant mother was suddenly occupying one of its two tiny bedrooms. Although perhaps there was a way if she could figure out the password to the guest database on her dad's laptop she might be able to make it look as though . . .

Quinn's heavy sigh brought her back to reality before she could commit fraud in her head and do her dads out of hundreds of dollars in the process. "Rachel, I can't do this. If I'm . . . my parents are going to notice and . . . and . . ."

"It'll be okay," she said soothingly, wishing she could reach out and touch her.

"It won't."

"It will! Your parents might be upset at first but at the end of the day they love you and . . ."

"No, that's your parents. My parents will crucify me when they find out and now that . . ." she waved that hand again and chuckled painfully. ". . . "To use one of Puck's favourite phrases . . ."

"'Shit's just about to get real'?" she guessed.

"Exactly, but, um, how do you even know a saying with 'shit' in it?" Quinn asked, playfully reproachful.

"I did date the boy for almost four days, Quinn."

There was a pause before a hesitant, "Did?"

"We've separated. But I did it for me, you understand, not . . ."

"For me?" Rachel huffed because she had been looking forward to delivering that line ever since Noah had walked away from her, but she let Quinn continue. "I do understand. You were right to challenge me. If things were different, but they're not and we can't . . ."

"Be together? No, we can't because . . ."

"I'm a bitch? I don't mean to be, to you, it's just that . . ."

"You get scared and . . ."

"Lash out at the one person who doesn't deserve it and I'm . . ."

"Sorry?"

Rachel's eyes wanted to cross with the way they kept finishing each other's sentences. She couldn't decide if it was cute or annoying, given their situation. Quinn realized it too and when Rachel made exasperated eye contact they both started to giggle; only to stop abruptly when Tina's locker banged shut and reminded them of where they were and who they were in front of.

Rachel turned back to her locker and actually did what she came here to do – like get the books she needed for the weekend. "So what are you going . . ."

"To do? I honestly have no idea. Stay out of the house as much as possible and . . ."

"Wear baggy clothes?" Quinn gave a little shrug that implied she was correct. "You know that only works in . . ."

"We're about to be interrupted."

Quinn had lost her edge. "No, I was going to say: movies . . ." A cocked eyebrow brought her up to speed. "Oh. By . . .?"

"This mutton-dressed-as-pedo-bait bothering you, Q?"

Santana.

Hello, they were at her locker, so what cognitive being could possibly think she was the one doing the bothering?

"Only as much as usual," Quinn replied smoothly.

"What were you two talking about?" Brittany asked.

"Glee," Rachel bit out, assuming it was expected of her.

"Yes, and how she better not even think about making a play for Finn again just because she's not with Puck any more."

Santana started laughing, "Oh yeah, heard he dumped your ass. Can't say I didn't see that coming."

Rachel looked around, indignant. "I broke up with him!"

"Like anyone would believe that. Face it, RuPaul, he just wanted to bag a lesbo and when you turned prude he cut his losses."

Maybe that's what Noah was telling everyone to save face or maybe Santana was just being a bitch, either way Rachel didn't dignify it with a response and turned back to her locker.

"Shouldn't you two be at Cheerios?" Quinn asked, sounding more miserable than she probably meant to.

"Coach called off practice until she decides who's gonna be the new captain," Santana said without a trace of sympathy. "So now we've rescued you from the troll's evil clutches, wanna head to Breadstix?"

"She didn't need rescuing," Rachel muttered. It was to herself but Santana's sharp ears caught it anyway.

"When you corner someone by their locker against their will, Berry, it's called stalking."

Rachel gestured helplessly in front of her, because it was her locker! But saying it out loud would just cause Quinn more questions, more stress.

But her silence only fuelled Santana's delusions and suddenly Rachel could feel her hot breath behind her ear. "Leave Quinn alone, Stubbles, you get me? You better, because next time I won't be asking so nice."

How nice it was to have Santana's shoulder connecting with the middle of her back – pushing her chest first again the lockers – was debatable but before she could voice that, Quinn was saying,

"Leave the lawn ornament alone, San. I'm the one who came over and started yelling at her; and now I've said my piece lets just forget about her and go eat. I'm really looking forward to my first meal as an ex-Cheerio; I wonder what main course I should get . . . first."

That brought a sour look to Santana's face and just an extremely hungry one to Brittany's. They were probably not looking forward to picking through their salads while Quinn devoured half the menu in front of them.

"That baby's making you soft," Santana scoffed.

"Are you kidding me?" Quinn laughed as she started to lead the way to the exit. "The Hobbit's so in love with me I don't need your violent tactics, Santana. I can destroy her with just a look."

Rachel watched them go, knowing it was probably true.

When Quinn let the other two go around the corner ahead of her and turned back to give her a wink, Rachel knew it was definitely true and she rolled her eyes with a growl and a laugh.