I'm sorry I've been gone so long I've had a few technical issues this year

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays

Chapter thirty-four: Words I Shouldn't Say.

"No, I didn't mean . . . obviously it was a big deal to me too, but . . ." Rachel wasn't sure how best to finish that sentence and then her phone rang. "That's probably my Dad."

By the time she had apologized for getting caught up and promised to be out in a few minutes, Quinn was sitting in the driver's seat, shivering hard as she used the rear view mirror to clean up her wet cheeks. "Slide into the front and I'll drop you around there."

"You don't have to do that; I can walk around."

"I know I don't, but," Quinn caught her eye in the mirror. "I'd rather 'not go out of my way at all' to take you there than risk someone seeing you get out of the back of my car."

"Fine." Although she knew Quinn was right, an apology tacked on to the end wouldn't have hurt. She slipped through the gap in the seats and buckled herself in. "How long are you going to stay mad at me?"

"I'm not mad at you. If anything I'm mad at myself and completely terrified of what my Dad wants to talk to me about. He said he'd been here, Rachel! What if he saw us?"

"Do you think he would have waited until he arrived home to call you about it?"

"Probably not," Quinn conceded as she cut the engine again behind her Dad's station-wagon. "Hang on, you're a total make-out mess." She unclipped her seatbelt to lean over and run her fingers through Rachel's hair. "Let's hope LeRoy isn't looking in his rear-view mirror right now. Oh!"

Rachel looked out the windscreen, expecting to see her Dad standing right there. "What? What is it?"

"If I say 'Nothing' and then drive away quietly are you going to hate me tomorrow?"

"Quinn! What is it?"

It wasn't hard to tell she was looking at a specific point on her neck and Rachel wrenched the rear-view mirror around until she could see for herself.

"Oh . . . my . . . God! Not again, Quinn!"

"It's not that bad, and it's your fault, and I was in the moment, and I really have to go."

The bright purple-red hickey on her neck was huge! Okay, it wasn't like the size of her fist or anything but it was extremely obvious and there was nothing she could do to cover it up.

"Give me all your make-up!"

"Won't help."

"Quinn."

"I really have to go."

She pulled the collar of her coat up, tugging it this way and that, but it just wasn't high enough to hide the damage. "Quinn!"

"What do you want me to do, Rachel? Oh . . . whatever!" She peeled off her coat, it was bigger and heavier than Rachel's, and handed it over. "I'm already shivering, I hope you're happy about making our-the baby cold."

Rachel shot her a look as she pulled it on. Quinn bit her bottom lip but otherwise held her stare.

"Thank you." Buttoning the coat, she pulled the hood up too, completely hiding her neck. "Facebook?"

"I don't know, it depends on my dad."

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Yes, of course, I just . . . I don't know what he knows!" Quinn shook her head. "If I don't speak to you tonight, I'll find us some time tomorrow."

Rachel nodded and then flicked the heater dial up from one to six. "Stay warm, stay safe. Call me if you want to, any time."

Quinn smiled, "Thank you."

Ten seconds later Rachel was sliding into her Dad's car and watching Quinn's tail lights disappear.

"You took your time."

"Sorry, we were talking about Glee, and you know how I get caught up."

Her dad nodded and pulled away from the kerb. "New coat?"

"Quinn's. I was cold and . . . she wasn't."

"I see."

She could tell he was smirking, "What? It's the truth. See," she unbuttoned the coat a little. "I'm still wearing mine beneath."

"Well, that was nice of her then." It was a minute or more before they could pull out into the traffic streaming past and Rachel noticed her dad looking over more than once. Still cold, Sweatpea?" he asked, just as he hit the gas and they left the school behind.

Actually no, this car was incredibly warm after being in Quinn's and she was now sweltering under the two coats, but she couldn't admit that.

"Perhaps I'm coming down with something."

"Perhaps," her Dad agreed, which was odd in itself because normally he turned every sniffle she had into Pneumonia or Yellow Fever.

They were home before she knew it.

"Dinner in half an hour," he said as they got out of the car. "Peter is coming. Why don't you wear that fabulous little low-cut thing he got you last Christmas? He'd love that."

Why don't you bite me! She thought in return and only felt a little bad because it was so obvious her Dad was messing with her. There was no way he could have seen the evidence, but he clearly knew she was hiding something under Quinn's coat.

"Actually, Dad, I'm really feeling a little queasy. I think I'll just go to bed."

"But you love Peter!"

Not today she didn't.

"Please give him my fondest regards. I'll see you in the morning."

"Aren't you going to take your coats off?"

"No."

The house loomed over her car when she cut the lights, leaving her in its dark shadow. She'd always appreciated its forbidding qualities before, it fueled her air of importance, but tonight it felt like a harbinger of the doom that could be to follow.

She didn't want to go in there, not without more information. What did her daddy want to talk about? What did her daddy know? Why had he even been at the school? Had he been called in because of her detentions? Or God forbid, her pregnancy?

She sniffed the air as she left her car, but couldn't smell any trace of smoke from a cleansing pyre on the back lawn. Good sign? Or had the wet weather forced them to move the burning at the stake inside?

She was a wet, shivering mess by the time she was pushing her key into the front door. Her teeth were chattering and her ears were burning from the cold wind, but she could still hear her parents arguing in the family room.

"So why didn't you tell me about this before? Instead of leaving me to look like a complete idiot in front of her sycophantic fool of a principal?"

"I've hardly known any time myself, Russell!"

Crap! If her mom was answering back it was really serious. Normally these days she just went along with whatever he said for an easy life. It was where she and Frannie had learned the tactic from after all.

"Garbage," her daddy snapped. "You had lunch with the crazy woman last Friday. It's Tuesday for Heaven's sake."

"I wish you wouldn't call her that, it's not kind. You know her name is Krazor, and I didn't mention it because I couldn't couldn't be sure it was true. It just sounded so unlike our little girl and I didn't want to worry you needlessly."

Well at least she knew who was to blame for this now, even if she didn't know what exactly 'it' was yet.

"So you think the Krazy woman is telling lies about our daughter but you don't want me to be unkind to her? No, I wish that were true, but I saw the evidence with my own eyes this afternoon . . . There is definitely a problem with the Berry girl."

Fuck! It was worse than she'd thought after all. Quinn went into reverse, trying to pull the front door quietly closed so that they would never know she had almost come in, but in her fear her instinct was faster than her feet and the door hit the toe of her sneaker and bounced even further open than she'd had it before, pulling the keys from her hand so that they jangled and rattled loudly against the wood.

"Quinn, is that you?" Her mom called out, coming closer, and she would have still run away if her car keys hadn't been dangling from the now wide open door and the rain hadn't already chilled her all the way through.

They both came into the foyer to find her trembling on the threshold.

"My goodness, you look like you've been pulled through a hedge! What happened to your hair? And where's your coat? Your clothes are dripping." Her mom looked at the puddle forming around her feet and then back at her hair, mouth curling distastefully.

Quinn self-consciously smoothed her hair down. She'd had the forethought to check Rachel's appearance, why hadn't she thought to do the same with her own? Did her mom still recognise the signs of a passionate make-out?

"It was windy. I'll run a brush through it and it will be fine."

"And your coat? Don't tell me you've lost it. I thought you'd grown out of that phase."

She only just stopped herself from whining that she had. Not that she had even been in that phase, it was just that at Belleview her coats had been stolen a lot and put on Porky - the elementary school's mascot pig.

"I didn't lose my coat. It's in my car, I didn't realise it was raining so heavy when I got out. I can go and get it if you don't believe me." She waited, knowing if her mom called her bluff she would get in her car and drive straight to Rachel's, but not just to get her coat back.

"Don't be silly, Quinnie, you're soaked as it is. You need to go upstairs and get changed."

"Not yet," her daddy barked.

"What's wrong?"

"That's what we'd like to ask you."

"I-I don't know what you mean."

"Don't lie to us, Lucy!"

"Don't call me that!" she snapped instinctively.

"I beg your pardon?" her father came as close to shouting as he ever did and Quinn cringed.

"I'm sorry. What did I do?"

"Detention, talking back to teachers, skipping class . . ."

"When were you going to tell us that you left the Celibacy Club, Quinnie?"

It was probably premature, but she breathed a sigh of relief, because if they thought she'd left of her own free will then they didn't know the worst of it yet.

"That club was full of phonies, Mom! Every single one of them was having sex!" She wasn't really exaggerating much. "They were tainting all of my most sacred values. I didn't want to be around them anymore."

Her parents exchanged a look and then her daddy's voice was softer when he asked, "What about the class skipping and fighting and the insolence? We raised you better than that, Quinn. You've always been such a good, polite student."

"I don't recall being insolent to a teacher."

"Mrs. Krazor said you got a detention for fighting with another student and then refusing to apologize when your teacher asked you to," her Mom said quietly.

If she was still head cheerleader, Reena Krazor would be in serious trouble tomorrow. She still would be if Quinn could get Santana to do anything about it.

"I didn't . . . we weren't physically fighting, just arguing, and I didn't see why I should apologize when it was obvious to anyone who saw that I was in the right." She sighed, "I did apologize for it later, to Principal Figgins, but he insisted the punishment stood anyway. It was really unfair."

"Who were you arguing with?" her Dad asked.

"Um, Rachel Berry." Her mom and dad exchanged another of those looks that she hated. "It's assigned seating. I didn't have a choice about sitting next to her."

"You didn't tell us you were tutoring with her today, either."

"I didn't know I would be until she turned up."

"I see." Her Dad hesitated for a moment, "You seem to spend a lot of time with that girl just recently and it's not good for you, Quinn."

"It's not through choice!" When they both looked like they didn't believe her the next words just rushed out. "She keeps just showing up! She has, like, this thing for me or something. I don't know. I keep telling her to leave me alone, but she won't!"

Her Dad nodded sympathetically, "I assumed as much when I saw you in that classroom today. I told you she was trouble, didn't I?" he said to Mom. "But, Quinn, while I understand her attention must make you very uncomfortable, it's no excuse for physical violence."

"Huh?"

Rachel was currently doing something that made her wish she had a lock on her bedroom door but, lack of lock notwithstanding, she honestly felt like she had no choice but to continue. Her mind and body were ganging up on her.

After an hour of working on the biology assignment that was due Friday – it was possible she'd mixed up the human reproductive system with that, say, of the common house plant but she couldn't concentrate enough to read it back and check – she'd spent another hour or so watching YouTube videos of hilariously bad singers and cute baby animals in an effort to feel better.

It didn't work. And she didn't even know why she felt so bad in the first place. They'd parted amicably and Quinn had said she wasn't angry with her about what had happened.

Of course, she'd also said 'I love you' swiftly followed by 'I don't want to have sex until I'm in love' and then hot on the heels of that 'I don't want to have sex with you'.

Okay, so she paraphrasing all but the first declaration but was it any wonder her mind was a mess?

You didn't just say something like that and then negate it instantly with something else. That wasn't fair! Rachel had been really careful about not letting those words slip out even though she was feeling them more and more each day, because she knew it wasn't fair and it was too soon and she didn't want to put Quinn on the spot, but Quinn obviously didn't care about putting her on the spot.

Had she even meant it? Or had she just been so caught up in the moment . . .?

Rachel didn't want to think it, but given Quinn's later words, had she just said it because of what they were about to do and . . . she'd needed to lie to herself to make it okay?

So now she was laying under her covers – well, sort of, they were pushed down to her knees – in the dark and her right hand was tickling a spot on her thigh, that same spot she'd been touching on Quinn before they were interrupted. She was trying to retrace her steps completely so that she could perfect them, just in case she ever got to repeat them, you know, like when they were twenty-five, but it wasn't really working. She was aroused enough – she couldn't imagine doing this if she wasn't – but her fingers felt like blocks of wood, unco-ordinated and useless against her thigh and now she was panicking that it had felt the same for Quinn.

It was almost a relief when her cell rang; even if it was nearly eleven and she should have been asleep.

"Hey," she whispered, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Quinn breathed into her ear, obviously trying to keep her voice down too. "They were pissed about the detentions and grilled me on why I left Celibacy Club."

"That's good." Rachel pulled her nightdress down and her comforter up to her shoulders. "What did you say about Celibacy Club?"

Quinn gave a soft chuckle, "That everyone was having sex and I didn't want to be tarred with the same brush, basically. I know its hypocritical but . . ."

"No, you have to look out for you first. And it's not like anyone else is going to know what you said."

There was a long exhale before Quinn murmured, "That's what I figured."

"So . . . was there a punishment? Are you grounded?"

"No. The detentions bought me one day of community church service. It won't be so bad, I just have to mind the kids creche Saturday. But I also lost a week's allowance."Quinn chuckled suddenly, "Guess why?"

Rachel frowned as she cautiously asked, "Um, because you're pregnant?"

"No! They haven't figured that out yet, thank God!"

"Um." And then she blurted out a question she'd been dying to ask for over a month. "Are you just going to wait for them to figure it out then?"

"No, I, or maybe, I don't know. That has nothing to do with why I lost my allowance though. Guess again."

She took a wild stab in the dark (or not), "They know your friends with me?"

"Nope," Quinn sounded proud of herself. "They do however think it's wrong for me to inflict physical violence on you."

There was only one appropriate response she could think of, "Huh?"

"Yep, that's exactly what I said. Apparently my Dad saw me push you across the Spanish classroom this afternoon and he was not impressed with my unladylike behavior."

"But you barely touched me!" Rachel muffled her laughter under her comforter.

"You're a hell of an actress, Rachel Berry. You're so good, you cost me thirty dollars."

"I'm so sorry."

"Stupid Gnome," Quinn murmured affectionately, before raising her volume a little. "It's fine. Finn gets paid at the end of the week. That'll cover my doctors bill from last month."

No it wouldn't, Finn had already told her.

"I'm bound to get another one for Tuesday, but it'll be okay. The important thing is that my parents don't know that I'm pregnant or, you know, into you. I can cope with everything else. So what were you doing before I called? Actually, it's late so you were probably sleeping, but I kind of had this fantasy that you were working on your latest MySpace video."

Blushing hard at the thought of what she actually had been doing, she chuckled nervously, "Fantasy?"

"Not the sexy kind," Quinn laughed, "I just like picturing you singing."

"I wasn't singing. I was in bed. But not sleeping."

"Reading?"

"No."

"Watching TV?"

"No."

"A DVD?"

"No."

"Then what were you doing in bed not . . . sleeping. Um, please tell me you were just laying there thinking."

Rachel thought about pushing the envelope but they'd had a traumatic enough day already.

"Yes, I was. I was thinking about you; hoping you were okay."

"So you weren't thinking about, you know, earlier?"

"That depends. Have you been thinking about earlier?"

"I, uh, I don't know. I don't really know how I feel about earlier."

"Do you want to talk about it? Maybe figure it out together?"

"Um . . ." Before Quinn could expand, a solid knock came through the phone. "Shit," she whispered, "I have to go. See you tomorrow."

"Okay, b—" Quinn hung up. "—ye."

"Okay, b—" Quinn pushed her phone onto her nightstand as she called, "Come in."

Her Dad poked his head around the door. "It's nearly half-past eleven, Quinn. Who were you talking to?"

"Sorry, Daddy. It was Finn. I couldn't remember if he needed a ride in the morning, so I was calling to find out."

Her Dad frowned, "He doesn't have a car of his own yet?"

"He shares his Mom's right now, but he's saving up for one," she fibbed, and it was only a little white lie because he had been saving up for a car until he'd found out she was pregnant. And now he was working to pay for hospital bills that shouldn't even be his problem! She shook the guilt away. "He's a great guy, Daddy, he just doesn't have a lot of disposable cash right now."

Her Dad nodded, "You should invite him to dinner, one day next week. I think it's time I got to know this boyfriend of yours a little better." He grinned and then pulled the door closed behind him.

Quinn flopped back down on her bed, one hand covering her stomach. She wanted to be happy that her Dad was ready to embrace Finn, but it was all a lie. She loved him, she knew she did, but when she imagined bringing someone special home to meet her parents . . . well these days, it was Rachel that popped into her mind and that was something she could never do.

Gently rubbing her stomach, she thought about Puck filling that role and actually laughed out loud. Jew, mohawk, delinquent, baby-daddy . . . he'd still be more desirable to her parents than Rachel but not by much.

She sent a quick text to Finn: You have to come to dinner next week. Which day is best for you?

And then another to Rachel: Sorry, Gnome, my dad came in. See you tomorrow. Going to think about 'earlier' now ;).

She received a text back from Finn first: I hav to come for dinner? Y?

And then another: I meen I will obv, but wht do I do?

She rolled her eyes and sent back: Eat dinner? It's not that hard, Finn. Just show up looking presentable and don't talk too much.

A few minutes later: Ok I can do that. Anyday's good 4 me. Um, I love you x.

Only Finn would put an 'UM' before an 'I love you' in a text. It would have been adorable if she'd, um . . . okay, no need to dwell on that.

Her phone beeped again.

I figured. I can't stop thinking about it. Is it wrong that I'm naked right now? ;)

Quinn blushed to the roots of her hair: Yes!

But it was kind of a, um, nicely warming thought too and it was a little chilly in her room: Or no.

Did that make her sound too easy? I don't know; you literally just short circuited my mind, you hussy!

A second later, Rachel sent back: LOL. You're my most favourite person, Quinn Fabray. And I'm still thinking of you. But you can breathe again, I'm not really naked."

Quinn smiled, nibbling on her bottom lip while she deliberated over what to send back. 'That's a shame.' was a tad too forward and telling. 'Thank God for that!' would be an outright lie. She finally settled on:

How do I know I can believe you when I know you take such pleasure in teasing me?

She turned her bedside lamp off, watching her phone in the dark until it lit up with a soft vibrating buzz.

Under the words:I do take pleasure in that, but . . .

Was a photo of Rachel with her covers pushed away to show off her ankle length white nightie. She was grinning but her eyes were closed against the flash and Grumpy Bear was cuddled up under her other arm, fuzzy face smooshed into her neck.

Great, now she was jealous of a damn Care Bear!

What? No Tigger jammies tonight?

I had to wash them eventually. Tell the truth, did you ever wear them?

Grinning, she sent back, As you're going to have electronic evidence of my answer I'm going to have to ask you to swear on something sacred that you'll never repeat it.

There was a pause before the reply this time, probably because Rachel was trying to decide what to swear on. When her phone buzzed she held it over her face eagerly.

Am I gunna hav 2 ware a suit!

What the . . .? Oh. She rolled her eyes. Yes, Finn! You're having dinner with my parents. Treat it like the most important interview you'll ever have.

As she finished sending that text another arrived. I swear on my autographed DVD of Funny Girl, which is one of my most prized possessions, but as I don't imagine you will appreciate its significance, I'll swear on Grumpy Bear too. Tell me!

As she was reading that, another came through. I don't hav a suit! Shud I by 1? How much r they?

Again she rolled her eyes in exasperation because she was trying to have a conversation with Rachel and Finn was being annoying.

Quinn irritably tapped out: They're expensive. How can you not own one already? You can't buy one new, we need all of your money for the doctors bills as soon as possible. Time is seriously running out and if they call here I'm screwed!

Sending that, she wrote a much friendlier text next: I've had them since I was eleven. I used to wear them constantly! Mom used to have to fight to get me out of them when they needed washing :)

Her phone buzzed twice in quick succession and both replies read the same: What?

Shit! How had she even done that? Tiredness, irritability and over-eagerness were probably the culprits. And the dark, she could blame that too. It didn't help her correct this though. She wasn't too worried about Finn, at worst he'd just think she'd been a suit-wearing weirdo at eleven years old, but Rachel . . . she'd been trying really hard this past week to keep how worried she was about the doctors bill to herself and now she'd blurted it out. Rachel was supposed to be her happy distraction and now she'd be worrying too and when Rachel worried, she badgered Quinn about it.

R we still talkin abt suits?

Are you texting Finn too?

She answered Finn first because it was easier: Sorry, I sent you the wrong text. New suits are expensive but we might be able to find one at Good Will or something. We'll talk about it tomorrow.

Then came Rachel. What could she say that would take back what she had already said?

In the end she just sent: Yes.

Who else r u txtin?

She thought about saying nobody, but duh. My sister.

She waited for a reply from Rachel but Finn got in again first: Wudn't she alredy no what u wore wen u were little.

Shit. Once again Finn Hudson's intelligence surfaced right when she least wanted it to.

We were just reminiscing. It's late, Finn. I'll talk to you tomorrow.

Ok, night :)

She shook her head a little as she closed down Finn's texts and then stared at her phone again, waiting for it to do something. Another minute went by before she couldn't stand it anymore.

Hey, did you fall asleep?

Please say yes, please say yes! Although, if Rachel had fallen asleep she obviously wouldn't be texting anything for a while and Quinn was going to have a long night ahead of her wondering about it.

So, she breathed a sigh of relief when her phone buzzed: No, but I'll leave you to talk to Finn.

Cancel that relief: You don't have to do that! He's gone already.

Still, it's late Quinn. I'll talk to you tomorrow x

Wow, Rachel had just brushed her off as easily as she'd brushed Finn off and . . . it really hurt.

She sent: Ok, sweet dreams, Gnome xxx back and then a copy of the text she'd mistakenly sent to Finn.

After a few seconds of guilt gnawing at her she pulled Finn's last text up again and replied with: Goodnight :) x

And then she settled in for what was probably going to be a long night anyway, counting numbers in her head, familiar even though they changed daily. 48 days since their first kiss. 44 days since their first 'fake' date. 35 days since their first 'real' date. Beside her the clock ticked its way past midnight. Make that 36 days. 34 days since they'd broken up. 5 days since they'd agreed to be friends. 6 hours since they'd last kissed. Nearly 2 months since she'd first seen Rachel naked. 7 hours since she'd admitted to herself that she really wanted to see her naked again soon. 25 minutes since she'd last imagined her that way.

1 second since she'd last imagined her that way.

Her phone buzzed softly on the night stand and she snatched it up.

Same to you, Snuggle-cub xxx

She rolled her eyes and shook her head at the name but let it stand . . . for now.

Sending back a simple x she set her phone back on the side and could feel herself falling asleep almost at once, drifting off to . . . 5 hours and 30 minutes since I first said I love you . . .