A/N: Sorry, it's a long time between chapters, I know! I just want you to know, I haven't lost inspiration! Just hard finding the time. Enjoy!

Artie was staring down at a pile of sweaters and sweater vests on his bed when he heard a knock at the door. He assumed it was his mother since she'd (finally) grown accustomed to knocking after Artie reached a certain age. And he thought she was the only other person at home. But no – when he called for the visitor to "come in," the door swung open to reveal two surprise guests, his sister and Quinn!

"Quinn!" he exclaimed, grinning up at her. His sister coughed. "Oh, and Amy. What, uh, what brings you two around?"

"Regionals, silly," Quinn said, adjusting the duffel bag that she carried on her shoulder, which could only mean she was staying with them, just like old times. Quinn never stayed at her own house. She could tolerate her family now, but only in small doses. She most assuredly felt more at home at the Abrams' residence.

"I mean what brings you here a day early," Artie went on, still wearing a huge grin that was mostly meant for Quinn. "It's only Thursday night. How did you get here so fast?"

"Well, neither of us have classes on Fridays, right Quinn?" Amy confirmed with the other college student. "And since Quinn told me she was flying in early for Regionals on Saturday, I agreed to meet her at the airport and bring her here. And insisted she stay a night or two. Surprise!"

"It explains why Mom's been cooking up a storm," Artie said, kind of annoyed that nobody thought to tell him, but still glad to see Quinn just the same.

"Are you finally donating those to the St. Ignatius Nursing home like I told you to?" Amy asked, with a nod towards the pile of sweaters on his bed.

Artie, pretending not to hear her, turned back to his closet. "It's in here somewhere..." he muttered. "Maybe it accidentally wound up out of my reach... aha! I see it. It's up on the top shelf. Hey, Quinn...?"

Quinn immediately stepped forward, stopping right behind him and looking over his head. "That?" she asked, as Artie nodded to confirm. She reached it easily and pulled it down, holding it out for inspection. "Why this British flag sweater?"

"It was a gift from one of my many uncles on my dad's side," Artie explained, not really answering the question and spreading it out on his bed. "When they went to England. I should probably wash it first. It's gonna smell like moth balls."

"No, don't wash it, you should probably just burn it instead," Amy retorted.

Quinn strolled over to his bed, picked up the sweater, and examined it. "Oh, I dunno, I actually like it," she commented. "It's quirky and fun. Just don't do khakis or slacks with it, mkay? Jeans and those navy shoes you wore on New Years' Eve would look good. What's the occasion?"

Artie looked from Quinn to Amy, wishing at this moment that his sister wasn't here. Because Quinn, she already knew about his brief history with Kitty and how he was trying to reconcile with her. Amy, on the other hand, didn't have the slightest idea. But, now that everyone in Glee club was also keen to the fact that he wanted Kitty, he might as well tell his sister, too.

"I won a gift certificate to Breadstix during a Glee club competition today," he said. "Well, me and all the guys, but I was the leader of our group, so they let me have it. I've decided to take Kitty out on a date tonight. I asked her and she said yes."

Quinn gasped, her hands flying to her cheeks, her expression of shock changing to one of pure delight. Amy, however, looked between Artie and Quinn and just appeared confused.

"Which one of your little friends is Kitty again?" she wanted to know. "I can't keep all the new Glee kids straight. Was she in your musical?"

"Sandy," Quinn said, as Amy sent a sharp look Artie's way, for further confirmation. Artie just nodded. "I'm gonna have to stop saying 'I told you so' at some point, but I did tell you so," Quinn added, looking pleased with herself.

"When?" Amy wanted to know, putting her hands on her hips like this was some big scandal, her just now finding out that Artie liked this girl and now had a date with her. "When did you tell him so?"

"Last summer," Quinn informed her.

"I didn't like her before 'Grease,'" Artie insisted, for what felt like the thousandth time. "That had nothing to do with the decision to cast her as Sandy."

Amy was smirking, however, like she didn't believe him, supposing that she knew his motives better than he did. Artie turned his attention back to the sweater, as he pushed the other sweaters and sweater vests aside to smooth out the forgotten beauty with the British flag that he'd be wearing to be a bit cheeky, of course, after Kitty's big debut of her sexy alter ego, Ginger Spice. Without saying a word, Quinn silently retrieved the worn-looking jeans from his closet (which he never wore, so they weren't technically worn at all) and placed them next to the sweater. Then she added the navy shoes and just nodded. Artie shrugged. Quinn giggled. Amy, meanwhile, was pawing through the rest of the sweater collection that Artie had shoved over to the side of the bed.

"Don't," Artie protested, but she had found an empty laundry basket and was raking them in. She cackled and held the basket over her head, just out of his reach. "Oh, that's real mature, Ames."

Before Artie could roll over her toes and tell her that she didn't have his permission to donate his whole wardrobe to old people and to stop teasing him, however, his phone rang. It was lying on his nightstand and they all three looked to see 'Trout Mouth' appear on the screen.

"Sam?" Quinn guessed.

"Er... Rachel Berry," Artie explained. He answered, putting her call on speaker phone. "Hi, Rachel. Did you mean to call me?"

"Hi, Artie, yes I did and I'll get straight to it." Rachel sounded formal and brisk on the phone, not unlike how she sounded in regular, everyday life, so he wasn't taken back. "It occurred to me that with Brittany gone, the New Directions only have eleven members for Regionals. As the new Finn, what are you doing to fix this?"

"Uh, well, I asked Mohamed Omar from AV Club. He said no. We asked Lauren Zizes. She said hell no. Tina might have asked that girl, Dottie, I'm not sure, but–"

"Artie," Rachel cut him off. "I'm not hearing a solution here. All I'm hearing is a list of weak attempts to recruit mediocre people. As the self-proclaimed new Finn, I have to say, I expected more out of you."

Quinn opened her mouth like she wanted to speak in Artie's defense but remembered that she wasn't supposed to be there. Rachel didn't know she was on speaker phone with Quinn and Artie's sister as well. Quinn closed her mouth, exchanging a troubled look with Amy.

"I wasn't finished, hold on," Artie said, coolly. "We've all been texting back and forth, trying to think of people who could learn the dances quickly, and it seems like Kitty's gonna come through with some Cheerios. She said she's gonna bring whoever she finds to our last rehearsal tomorrow."

"'It seems like Kitty's gonna come through,'" Rachel bellowed, repeating Artie's words with disgust. "Artie, this is a weak plan. It's not even a plan. What if Kitty doesn't get anyone, then what?"

"Rachel, that's my problem, not yours," Artie answered, through clenched teeth, as Quinn just nodded, her cheeks reddening by the minute. He could tell she wanted to jump to his defense, and it was taking everything she had not to blurt something out. "You just come on Saturday and enjoy the show. You remember it's not in Indiana, right? Due to the recent hurricane, it's at McKinley now..."

"I remember," she said, icily. "Artie, the competition is Saturday, and it's Thursday night. You have one more day. One! I'm sorry for getting involved, but I still care about the team that I built. Promise me you're not going to blow this just because you don't need to win at Nationals to go to college."

What? Artie screwed up his face on the other end of the line, trying to figure out why Rachel had deduced that Artie just didn't care as much as she did and would therefore be complacent about the fact that they had eleven members. The truth was, he'd done everything in his power to fix this. Kitty recruiting some Cheerios, who typically couldn't make it to their rehearsals but could easily learn a few simple dances in a day, seemed like an excellent plan. (He wouldn't dare tell Rachel that they'd just picked their final number that day either.)

"Rachel, I care way more than you realize," he finally said, after a long pause that was shockingly not interrupted by Rachel's rambling. "And we've pulled it together with less preparation than this, remember? Historically, I know you don't believe in me. But just watch. We've got this."

I hope.

Rachel did not mince words at this. She just told him quite bluntly "you better," and hung up on him. Quinn's cheeks were quite pink when Artie looked up and saw that it had been a struggle for her to remain silent while Artie did his best to articulate his rebuttal.

"'The team that I built,'" Quinn repeated Rachel's words with disdain. "She forgets that if I hadn't joined, we wouldn't have also gotten Brittany, Santana, Puck, Mike, and Matt that year."

Quinn might have been taking it a step too far, taking credit for recruiting the football guys – it was really Finn who did that. But she could definitely take credit for influencing the Cheerios to join, even if they only did so because Quinn was working in cahoots with Sue at the time. As for Artie, he'd been the one to convince Tina to join way back during their freshman year. And because of all his summer pool parties and the fall musical, he could probably take credit for recruiting all the new members they'd accumulated this year. But he held his tongue, as it really didn't matter who built the Glee club. What currently mattered was that they had eleven members, and if Kitty didn't come through with the Cheerios, they were still one short.

"So, what are we doing tonight, Quinn? Sounds like Artie's busy," Amy cut in, interrupting the Glee club talk that she clearly found a little boring. With a glint in her eye, she looked at Artie. "Breadstix sounds kind of good to me."

"Don't you dare," Artie said, gasping a little.

"I think your mom already made dinner anyway," Quinn said, with a sweet smile directed at Artie. "Besides, I've been traveling all day. I'd rather stay in and play games or watch movies here, and then turn in early."

"Girls' night at home sounds fun," Amy agreed. "Go enjoy your date, Artie. Time yourself when you talk, and if it's been more than five minutes since you gave her a turn to speak, shut up."

Quinn picked up the outfit she'd helped him put together, complete with the quirky British flag sweater, and thrust it into his lap. "Godspeed," she said. "And... God save the Queen!"

Breadstix was already crawling with high schoolers who were now officially on Spring Break. Artie received a text on his way in from Kitty, who stated she was in the back of the restaurant and to come on in. Artie, who thought he was the early one, just shrugged that off and let the hostess know his date was waiting. He carefully navigated the busy aisles, watching out for waiters with trays filled with drinks or food who surely wouldn't see him coming. He finally spotted Kitty in the far corner by a window, seated in a small two-person booth. She mouthed 'sorry,' as he approached, knowing a booth wasn't ideal for Artie.

"It was the only table available when I got here," she explained. Artie, who had wheeled past several empty tables on his way in, was a bit skeptical of her explanation but said nothing. (Perhaps those tables had just been cleared.) Kitty, apparently noticing his wardrobe now, grinned from ear to ear. "Oh, very clever. I'm sorry, I didn't wear my matching dress for you. It was, uh, y'know, dirty."

"Uh-huh," Artie smirked at her. "Well, no big deal and no problem about the booth. I can manage." With that, he smoothly transferred himself from chair to booth, taking extra care to make it look especially easy, pushing his empty wheelchair in close to the table when he finished.

"Chicago spoiled me," Kitty confessed, gesturing to the open menu in front of her. "This place is cute and all, but it's just not real Italian food. But you have your gift certificate so..."

"And if anyone deserves to share it with me, it's you," Artie said. "Seriously, what you did today– and, wow, they knew the dances so well that it looks like they've been practicing them with us all this time!"

Kitty had shown up to their final rehearsal with not one, not two, but three Cheerios – Sarah, China, and Amanda – all freshmen and all apparently willing to jump in at the last minute, thanks to Kitty's incredible powers of persuasion.

"Well, I wouldn't call the choreography in 'Some Nights' dancing," Kitty commented, with a chortle. "More like standing in a line and walking with intention. But it gets the job done." She tossed her blond hair, which she'd worn down for the occasion, over her shoulder confidently. "But, yeah. Those three are notoriously fast learners. It's why they made the squad as freshmen."

Artie was shaking his head in awe. "We really owe it all to you if we win, y'know," he said. "I don't know anyone else who was willing to put the time and effort into finding and training three new members so quickly."

"Shhhh," Kitty urged him. "Not something I want to advertise, that I'm secretly this nice person who does nice things for her super dorky show choir."

If only she were kidding about that, he thought, realizing that although she was trying to be funny, every word she said was true. Made him wonder if that was also why she passed up all those tables in the front, to select this hidden booth tucked way in the back corner. Perhaps the privacy had more to do with secrecy than romance. Maybe she also didn't want to advertise the fact that she was on a date with Artie, of the super dorky show choir. Once the thought occurred to him, it could not be silenced. His smile faltered, giving him away.

"If I'm yawning a lot..." she began, having indeed just yawned. "It's only because I met the girls at 6 A.M. to teach them our whole setlist before Cheerios practice started at 7:00. I also sent them videos of myself doing all the numbers, so they can practice on their own."

"Your superpowers of persuasion are far beyond those of us mere mortals," he commented. "How'd you convince them to help us?"

"I did mention that Nationals will be in L.A. this year, if we win," she said. "That's a lot more exciting than the Cheerios' Nationals over Spring Break. We'll just be in D.C."

"Oh, so you'll be... busy... over Spring Break," Artie said, as Kitty nodded. "Me too, actually. I'm uh... well, I'm going to L.A. A little preview of what we have to look forward to for Nationals, if we win."

Kitty opened her mouth to ask about this but they were momentarily interrupted by the waitress coming by to take their drink orders. Both were sticking with the free water, so Kitty took an opportunity to ask the waitress if all of the pasta there tasted like a microwaveable TV dinner or if that was just the case with the fettuccine, which she had last time she was there.

"P.S., I hate Breadstix," Kitty said to Artie, and he had to wonder why she was even bothering with this date if she didn't like the food and if she was slightly embarrassed by the company (him). Their waitress looked flustered.

"Have you ever tried their pizza though?" Artie asked Kitty, who shook her head. "Well, trust me, it's the best thing on their menu. Want to split the Margherita pizza with me? We could splurge for tiramisu for dessert."

"Your powers of persuasion are legendary, too, Arthur," she teased.

Nobody did this – not even Tina. Nobody called him by his full name as a tease. He didn't correct her. He'd always hated his full name... until he heard it rolling off her lips. And that wasn't the only thing he wanted on her lips either. She may have wanted to start over with him, but he couldn't forget those empty classroom make out sessions. She sipped her water, totally unaware of the thoughts racing through his head.

The waitress jotted down their order and disappeared again. There was an awkward moment of silence that followed. They'd yet to embark on such a formal date, and Artie suspected active dates were more their speed. Kitty wasn't much for small talk. She tried anyway.

"Why are you going to L.A.?" she wanted to know, just as Artie had been about to ask her about the upcoming trip to D.C. with the Cheerios.

"Oh, well I'm going with a friend – Mercedes, you met her at Thanksgiving," he explained, leading with the fact that he was taking a trip with yet another friend who happened to be a girl, in an effort to show that this wasn't a secret or anything to be concerned about. "She lives there now. I want to visit one more school. It's the Los Angeles Film School. It's actually located right on Sunset Boulevard, which is kind of cool."

"Wait, what about Brooklyn?" Kitty asked.

"It's still in the running." Artie paused, and perhaps it was the desire to impress her that overtook him, but he decided to tell her, even though he'd yet to share the news with his family and his closest friends. "I'm actually accepted to both places. The letters came on the same day."

"Really?" She beamed at him. "That's incredible, Artie! You can choose between two different coasts. When did you hear back?"

"In, uh, January..."

"January?!" Kitty was scandalized. "And you're just now telling me this? It's the middle of March!"

"I know, I know," he said, as he ducked his head. "Ms. Pillsbury is the only other person I've told. I didn't even tell my parents yet. They just think film schools are notoriously slow at returning an answer, I guess. Don't say anything, okay?"

Kitty's wide-eyed stare told him that was going to be difficult for her to do. "But why not?" she wanted to know. "Isn't film school, like, your big dream? Why aren't you telling people you've been accepted to these two major schools?"

"Because it's a lot of pressure, okay?" Artie said, sounding more tense than he meant to. "I guess I'll tell my family after I tour L.A., if I can figure it out by then. I'm not even sure I..." Artie trailed off.

"You're not even sure about... what?"

He hesitated, but feeling some strange level of trust in Kitty, completed his thought. "I'm not even sure film school's right for me in the first place", he said. "Plus, I mean, my mom's probably going to panic. She's taken care of me my whole life. I'm sure she won't be happy about me living in one of these big cities, when they're not exactly wheel-friendly. Wheels are only useful there if you're gonna be a bike messenger."

He hadn't meant to bring his chair into it at all. He was trying his hardest to leave it out of every single conversation tonight, in hopes that it wouldn't even be a part of the date. But he couldn't honestly say it wasn't a huge factor in all his decisions about school. The part about his mom panicking, however, was a complete fabrication on his part. When they'd visited Brooklyn, she'd shown no signs of hesitation and would never have discouraged him in any way.

Artie's pile of excuses clearly affected Kitty, much more than he expected. "But you'd be amazing in film school," she said. "Artie, think about this before you–"

"I am," he said, quickly. "I still have a little while to decide. It's why I want to visit L.A. and see the other school before I commit to anything."

"You should tell your family, Artie," she said.

"I know, I know..." he trailed off. "I will. Oh, hey, here comes our pizza, that was quick..."

Too quick, actually. He was hoping for slow service, which would have meant more time with Kitty. But pizza must have been an easy order. It came at the same time as those famous breadsticks, the ones Santana always bragged about toting out in a wheelbarrow once upon a time. He shared that story to get a laugh out of Kitty and to change the subject, as they dug into their pizza. It was a lot better than the pasta, which was pretty mediocre, Kitty was right. The tiramisu came next, along with a promotional coupon.

"It's the grand opening tonight for the new Free Play next door," their waitress explained. "Only five dollars per person with a receipt from Breadstix tonight."

Kitty looked at him. "That's really cheap," she commented. "It'll probably be packed with everyone from school. Uh, and you can't really play a lot of the video games... right?"

Artie didn't want that to be the deciding factor. He suspected Kitty was hesitant because of the fact that kids from school would be there... and potentially see the two of them. He was really trying hard to overlook how offensive it was that she didn't want to be seen with him. And he was trying hard not to comment on it either, making it all the more awkward. But he wasn't going to give his chair as the excuse.

"No, I could manage," he said, slowly. "Do you want to go? I mean, I'm sure you grew up playing a lot of video games, right? What with having those three brothers you never tell me anything about."

A smile played on his lips, to show her that was sort of kidding. But he also sort of wasn't. He liked her. He was suspecting she still liked him. And time was running out. He would love a chance to meet her brothers, her dad even, and to get the honest truth about her mom, if she ever decided she trusted him enough to talk about it. In short, he just wanted to know her better. She put up so many walls.

She returned the smile, albeit hesitantly. "That's a fair assessment of my childhood, yes," she said. "Okay, let's do it, it's super cheap. Why not?"

After paying the small amount left after his gift certificate, plus tip, Artie and Kitty headed next door to check out this new vintage arcade. It was the type of place where you purchased a wristband that allowed you to play as many games for as long as you wanted. There were stools with backs next to the games, which allowed Artie access to the large, standard arcade cabinets. Well, sort of. Sitting down, his knees were in his way and he also didn't have great balance on stools, even ones with backs. That meant sitting on the stool wasn't something he could do unassisted. Artie processed all these thoughts silently. He hadn't wanted it to stop them from coming.

"Frogger!" Kitty shrieked, sounding a little too undignified for a cheerleader, but she seemed to forget her place momentarily when they found the game in a small room at the back of the place. "I love this game."

"Me too," Artie said. "You go first."

Kitty did indeed know how to play Frogger. She easily passed through the first round of collecting five frogs on her very first try, but struggled with the next round where the speed and difficulty increased. For a game that originated way before either of them had been born, it was just as entertaining as a modern-day game and downright impossible to beat on the first few tries.

"Your turn, Artie!" she insisted. And paused, as though she'd just remembered the various barriers at play. "Oh, right. Let's get you up there and I can hold you in place if you need me to. I'm a base on the Cheerios, you know. Most think I'm a flier, cause I'm small. Coach likes to use me in the middle of the pyramid so I end up being both."

Kitty's rambling worked in putting him at ease. He recalled the conversation he'd had with Betty, about how it was harder for him since the guy expected to help the girl anyway, but never the other way around. Artie needed Kitty's help to pull himself from a lower plane to a higher plane. She positioned his feet for him once he was on the stool and steadied him by holding his waist as he tried to find a comfortable position with his knees swinging out to the side. She never said a word about it, so that her help felt as normal and natural as breathing. Outside of his own family, he'd never felt so at ease with another person's help until now.

She was a rare person, this Kitty Wilde. He didn't dare say anything about it, lest she have to acknowledge she'd done something nice.

"I thought you'd played this before," she commented, as he lost his first few tries.

"Yeah, like ten years ago, standing up," Artie argued, his desire to make excuses for his poor playing overtaking his desire not to talk about his disability again.

"You'll figure it out," she said, keeping her hands on his waist so that he sat securely while his hands were occupied on the controls. "And if not, we'll have fun watching you try."

When he finally did beat the first round, they'd found themselves alone in that tiny, dark room. Maybe it reminded Kitty of the empty astronomy classroom. Whatever the reason, she celebrated his win by coming around for a quick kiss. Artie, who had been thinking nonstop about this moment ever since she'd debuted the Ginger Spice outfit, couldn't hold back. He pulled her in, and would have pulled her onto the tiny stool with him, but naturally she jumped back. And looked around.

"Nobody's here!" Artie couldn't help exploding a little at this. It was getting tiresome, hiding how much he wanted her, and he wondered if all of this was worth sacrificing his own self-respect if she clearly still didn't want people knowing about them.

"I know," she said, quietly, not letting go of his waist and moving back behind him again. "Um. It's round two. See if you can beat my score."

Artie didn't want to beat her score. He wanted to continue making out in the tiny, dark room. But, since he was in the habit now of taking what he could get when it came to Kitty, he said nothing more.