Someone was just telling me the most interesting story about pirates.

fic: Bittersweet

2014-01-04T01:34:28Z

Title: Bittersweet
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, Puck, Brittany/Marisa, Quinn/Alyson, Sue, Figgins, Mike/Wendy
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Graduation and other finality related events.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~9,030
A/N: So believe it or not, this is the final one and we are now approximately where Ambitions picks up. If you're still around after all this time, I thank you. And if you're one of those that has been here the whole time, when this was just me writing random crap that amused me and also happened to fit together, then I offer my most sincere thanks for the encouragement and for actually sticking around because apparently it's been over three freaking years. I fully admit that it's the only reason I've managed to finish it.
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.

series masterlist

"It's the beginning of the end, bro," Puck tells Rachel.

"Is that why we're sitting on very cold metal bleachers instead of on my much more comfortable and warm couch?" she asks.

"How can you be cold?" he asks, taking a sip of his beer. "It's almost summer."

"Maybe because you didn't tell me that we'd be sitting outside tonight," Rachel retorts. "Plus the weather's particularly chilly lately in the evening. They're saying that the weather patterns are changing and we'll be experiencing a lot more extremes of all sorts of weather. Which is why it would have been nice to have been warned—"

"Sorry," Puck replies, standing. "Hold on a sec." He stomps down the bleachers and jogs back to his truck where he pulls a McKinley High sweatshirt out from behind his seat. He jogs back and hands it to Rachel.

She accepts it and sniffs it gingerly. "How long has this been in your truck?"

"Not as long as you're thinking," he replies.

She sighs and he wonders which side of her pragmatism will win out. A moment later, she's pulling it over her head. Because it's a XXL, it looks ridiculous on her, but it does allow her to pull her knees up and under the material as well.

"I must really like you," she says.

"Same here, bro," he replies. "Because giving you something that makes you cover up those fabulous legs is a crime."

She rolls her eyes at him. "Always the gentleman, aren't you?"

"Hey, that was a compliment," he says.

"Whatever you say, Noah," she replies. "So why are we here again? It can't be to relive your football glory days. Because those don't really exist."

"Whoa, harsh, Rach."

"Too much?" Rachel asks.

Puck nods. "I'm not sure why we're here, actually. I just... dunno, felt like it."

"Okay."

Puck waits for her to say more. Finally he blurts out, "That's all you're going to say?"

"What else is there?"

"You were like super pissed a minute ago," he points out.

"Because I was cold," Rachel replies. "Now I'm not. And even though this sweatshirt is highly suspect, I am perfectly content as long as I don't think about where it's been."

"Oh. Cool."

They lapse into silence again as they both drink their beers, though Puck finishes three in the time that Rachel almost finishes one.

"Have you decided yet?" Puck asks.

She looks over at him, questioningly, but he just shrugs because in his mind, there's only one thing he could be referring to.

Rachel sighs. "I think I did a couple months ago. I just wasn't ready to admit it to myself."

"That sucks."

"It's the only decision that makes sense, Noah," she huffs angrily.

"Not that," he replies. "I mean, yeah that sucks too, but I meant, having it hang over your head for months. And for the rest of the summer."

"Oh. Yeah. It really does," Rachel agrees.

"I'm here for you, though," he says.

"Thanks Noah."

…

"We graduate next week," Brittany says.

They're lounging on Brittany's couch. For once her house is relatively quiet and they're taking advantage of it.

Santana nods, but doesn't reply, her eyes still on the movie.

"It's kind of unbelievable," Brittany continues.

"What's really unbelievable is that you're probably going to place ninth academically," Santana retorts. "How the fuck did that happen?"

Brittany shrugs.

"No seriously, how did that happen?"

Brittany shrugs again. "I really don't know. I mean, really, I don't. I mean, my grades were better than expected, but still... Probably Coach Sylvester."

"No one's going to believe it, though," Santana points out.

"Well, at least I don't have to give a speech," Brittany says.

"I just wish we weren't going to be on opposite sides of the country," Santana replies. "I'm gonna miss you, B."

"Don't talk like that, San," Brittany says. "We have all summer. And now that we don't have to worry about Cheerios in August, it'll be like an extra month of summer for us."

Santana sits up quickly. "You know that I'm like ridiculously proud of you for getting into UCLA, right?"

"Of course, I do," Brittany replies.

"Good," Santana says, relaxing again.

…

Rachel is definitely going to miss Sunday dinners at the Lopez house. They've been so warm and accepting of her and Rachel hates that she's eventually going to lose that. She just hopes that they eventually forgive her for breaking Santana's heart.

"I still can't believe that you girls are graduating in a week," Clara says over dinner. "It feels like just yesterday that Santana joined Cheerios."

Rachel nods. "Yes, though some days seemed to drag on forever, I still can't believe that it's almost over. I've been dreaming of this day for too long now."

"Yeah," Santana agrees. "I can't wait to get out of Lima."

"Your eagerness to leave us could be considered hurtful," Tomás tells them.

"You know that's not why we want to go, Tomás," Rachel assures him. "Certainly in my case, Lima hasn't been the most welcoming place to grow up."

"Don't act like me wanting to get out of Lima is something new, papa," Santana adds.

Tomás grins. "Your ambition is one of my favorite things about you."

Santana blushes slightly and Rachel is just barely able to hold back her "awww".

Clara, on the other hand, doesn't hold back. "We are very proud of you, dear. You too, Rachel darling."

"Thank you," Rachel says quietly, trying to ignore the tightening in her chest.

…

Rachel has no idea why Figgins would summon her to his office, bright and early Monday morning, but she's feeling no fear, even though he could very well keep her from graduating for any number of reasons. Just because he's afraid of Coach Sylvester, doesn't mean he doesn't still want retribution for the two years of pranks she put him through.

His secretary tells her to go right in, but she still knocks to announce her presence. He looks up with a grimace and gestures her to sit.

"Ms. Berry."

"Principal Figgins."

"I suppose you're wondering what I call you here for," he says.

Rachel nods.

"Well, let me reassure you that it isn't to inform you that won't be graduating."

Rachel lets out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "I'm glad to hear it."

"But don't think it's because I think you shouldn't have been expelled for what you've pulled over the years, Ms. Berry," he continues.

"I don't," she replies.

Figgins nods. "Well you're not an idiot, so I assumed as much."

"No offense, Principal Figgins," Rachel says. "But why am I here?"

"With graduation looming, I just wanted to make sure that there won't be any... surprises at the ceremony."

"Well," Rachel replies. "I can only speak for myself, but, I am unaware of any surprises."

"I see," he says.

"I'm simply being honest," Rachel explains.

He nods. "Just make sure your... associates don't give me any trouble either."

"I'll do my best."

"You better do more than that," he replies. "Because I will be holding you responsible."

"That's hardly fair, Principal Figgins."

"I wasn't aware that I had to be fair, Ms. Berry," he replies. "Especially considering what you put me through these past few years."

"I could say the same about the first two years I was here," Rachel retorts.

"That was hardly my fault," Figgins replies. "That blame lies in the hands of Sue Sylvester. And yet, now, you seem to be... aligned with her."

"We've come to an understanding."

"And then, of course, there's Ms. Lopez," Figgins continues.

"What about her?" Rachel asks, warily.

"She is a concern, as much as you are," Figgins replies. "Perhaps more so because she is a... product of Sue Sylvester's tyrannicalness."

"So she doesn't fall under the category of my associates?" Rachel questions. "Then who does?"

"Please don't insult me by playing dumb, Ms. Berry."

Rachel sighs. "Look, Principal Figgins. Can I promise that absolutely no pranks will take place at graduation? Of course not. Contrary to popular belief, my influence at this school is not all encompassing. However, I can promise that myself and my... associates, including Santana, will not be involved."

"That is hardly reassurance, Ms. Berry," he replies.

"I didn't realize I was so powerful that I could control the entire student body," Rachel muses. "If I'd realize that I have that kind of power..."

"I certainly hope you're not threatening me, Ms. Berry," Figgins says.

"Oh, is that not what we're doing here?" Rachel questions. "I apologize for misreading the situation."

"You're quite arrogant for someone with so little power," Figgins tells her.

"Perhaps," Rachel replies. "Perhaps."

Figgins growls in frustration. "Fine, Ms. Berry," he says. "This is your last warning. If there is any sort of chaos at graduation, I am holding you solely responsible. And not only will you fail to graduate, so will all of your fellow glee clubbers."

"What possible justification could you have for that?" Rachel scoffs. "Not to mention that I have no intention of—"

"You may have masterminded these pranks and claimed sole responsibility, but I know that they are all your lackeys and so for blindly following you, they will go down as well."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Then you really should update your intel, Principal Figgins. We are not the united front you paint us as."

"Mutiny?" Figgins chuckles. "I hear that sometimes happens in dictatorships."

"If you're done attempting to bully me," Rachel says, standing. "I really should be going."

"You haven't been dismissed," Figgins protests.

"I have class," Rachel replies. "Don't you have a school to run, sir?"

Figgins scowls at her. "Fine. You may go. But remember what I've said, Ms. Berry."

"Oh don't worry, sir," Rachel says as she stops in the doorway. "I definitely won't forget."

…

Rachel needs to talk to someone about the conversation she had with Figgins and curses the fact that most of her circle have short fuses; not that hers isn't just as bad. It is the reason that she's in this precarious position in the first place. Spotting Mike in the hall before lunch, reminds Rachel that she has a least level headed person in her life.

"Mike," she calls out.

"Hey Rach," he grins. "What's up?"

"I really need to talk to someone and you're the most coolheaded individual I know."

"Thanks, I guess."

"Do you mind?"

Mike shakes his head.

"Good," Rachel replies, dragging him towards the choir room.

…

Wendy is actually sitting with the rest of the Cheerios and not with Mike today and so Missy has taken the opportunity to try and pull her back into her Rachel Berry obsession.

"Are you ever going to explain to me what your fixation on her is about?" Wendy finally asks, exasperated.

Missy looks hurt.

Wendy rolls her eyes. "Oh please."

Missy pouts and then smirks. "Fine."

Wendy waits but after a full minute, her patience runs out. "Well?"

Missy shrugs. "I just really hate Lopez. And her girlfriend is fucking hot. And she totally doesn't deserve her. We all know how the Cheerios used to dump on her. And then there's the fact that she's the damn prankster. I don't know. I just... it's not fair."

"That's still no reason for you to be so..."

Missy shrugs. "So I have a problem with my infatuations becoming obsessions. At least I'm aware of the problem."

"Yeah, well, no offense, Mis," Wendy says. "But I'm not sure that Rachel would be interested in you with or without Santana."

Missy glares at her. "What makes you say that?"

Wendy shrugs. "I've just had a change to get to know her while dating Mike... and I just don't think she'd be interested in you."

Missy looks insulted and Wendy can't help but giggle. "Would you have preferred that I lied?"

"Of course not."

"Then you need to chill out, Mis," Wendy tells her. "Otherwise, Coach Sylvester is going to be on your case."

"Is that a threat?"

"They graduate this week, you know," Wendy says as if she's talking about the weather. "And I doubt that Rachel will ever come back to Lima."

"Hmph."

"Not that I blame her," Wendy continues.

"Yeah," Missy says.

"Next year will be easier that way," Wendy tells her. "Out of sight, out of mind, right?"

Missy doesn't reply.

…

The longer Rachel remains quiet and eats her lunch, the more Mike worries. Whatever has her worried has to be fairly big if she's concerned about her hot tempered girlfriend and best friend.

"I'm sorry to spring this on you, Mike," Rachel says finally. "But I need to discuss it with someone and as someone who's involved, yet still not insanely impetuous, you seem to be the perfect choice."

"Your compliments are..."

"I apologize," Rachel says. "I just..."

"It's fine, Rachel," Mike replies. "Really. I don't mind."

Rachel nods. "This morning when I first arrived, I was summoned to Principal Figgins' office."

"Oh."

"And he threaten to ban my graduating if a prank is pulled at the ceremony," Rachel continues.

"Well, that's not that big of deal," Mike says. "I mean, it's not like you were planning anything, anyway, right?"

"Agreed. However, I may have let my hubris get the better of me," Rachel replies, looking embarrassed.

"Meaning?"

"I may have threatened him back," Rachel admits.

"How?" Mike questions. "I mean, what could you threaten him with?"

"It was vague and ominous," Rachel says. "It just sort of slipped out."

"Oh," Mike says. "So now he's following through?"

Rachel shakes her head. "He said that if anything happens at graduation, even if I'm not behind it, he won't let anyone in glee club graduate."

"That's..."

"It is," Rachel nods. "And so I was hoping you could keep your ears open, in case one of the dozens of morons decides to try something."

"I'd be glad to, Rach," Mike replies. "But I don't think anything will happen."

"Why not?"

"Because... no one wants to try something and have it not be as good as yours. I mean, not only did you humiliate the administration, but you also did it to the extreme. If someone else tries to pull something and it's not as good as yours..."

"So you're saying that the fact that this school is filled with imbeciles is finally a good thing?" Rachel questions.

"I suppose that's one way to look at it," Mike replies. "I mean, I can ask around. After all, underestimating the stupidity of the students at McKinley can be hazardous. I'll check with Wendy too. But I think, for once, we might be okay."

"That... is not the reassurance I was expecting," Rachel says.

"You don't sound relieved," Mike observes.

"I am," she tells him. "Really. I just... it'd be one thing if it was just me, but the fact that he's going after the other members of glee..."

"It's definitely unfair," Mike agrees.

"Would it be wrong to go after him once graduation has occurred?"

Mike wasn't expecting that. "Ummm..."

"I mean, I know I should just let it go," Rachel continues. "We're graduating and getting the hell out of here."

Mike nods.

"On the other hand, I've felt a certain amount of validation in retribution," Rachel explains. "It seems I'm not as magnanimous as I originally thought."

"You're a teenage girl, Rach," Mike replies. "Not Jesus Christ."

"I'm also Jewish," Rachel adds.

"You know what I mean."

"I do," Rachel nods. "Perhaps I should table that decision for another day. When I'm not as... defensive."

"Probably."

"He is fighting, dirty, though, right?" Rachel asks.

"He is," Mike agrees. "Though he probably feels like he has no choice."

"You are not allowed to defend him."

"Right. Sorry."

"No, I'm sorry, Mike," Rachel says. "Thanks for... well, everything."

Mike grins. "You're welcome, Rach."

…

"I'm sorry I can't make it back for you graduation," Alyson tells Quinn.

"Why?" Quinn asks, flopping onto her bed, cell phone cradled against her cheek. "It's just a stupid ceremony. I'm sure you had to suffer through one of your own."

"Yeah, I did," Alyson agrees. "But it's still a big deal."

"So is passing all your finals," Quinn replies.

Alyson groans causing Quinn to giggle.

"It'll all be over in a week," Quinn reminds her.

"And then I get to come home to my loving family," Alyson retorts.

"Josh and Kat will be happy to see you," Quinn says. "And we should be able to hang out plenty this summer."

"True," Alyson agrees. "That will be nice."

Conversation turns to the insanity that is Sue Sylvester during the last week of school. Losing some of her most intense and impressive Cheerios is having an obvious effect on the coach, though no sentiment has been expressed. Not that Quinn expected any. Still it’s nice to know that Coach Sylvester will miss them, even if it’s in relation to how it will affect her.

In comparison, Alyson’s coach seems like a kitten. Despite the eight national titles for the Cheerios, Alyson seems relieved that she never had to experience anything like Coach Sylvester; of course, after hearing stories, most people say that.

When they hang up an hour later, Quinn wonders what it means that there’s been no real discussion of the future beyond the first few weeks of summer. And do they need to have one? Santana and Berry haven’t had that conversation, though she’s not sure she wants to model her relationship after the two of them. Quinn just doesn’t want to be the one to bring it up. She hopes that doesn’t make her too big of a coward.

…

Despite being ecstatic that both her fathers are home for a few days and that they plan on attending her graduation, Rachel still feels a bit awkward around them. She's so used to having the house to herself, that it almost feels claustrophobic when they're around. It also feels like a step back for her to have to report and justify her whereabouts to them. It probably doesn't help that knowing that they disapprove of so many of her choices lately leaves Rachel feeling like a disappointment.

And of course, the three of them are acting like nothing's wrong, avoiding sensitive topics like Santana or Rachel pulling pranks.

Still, she loves them dearly and vice versa, so she sits down to family dinner with a smile plastered on her face. They talk about safe things like work and glee while Rachel is very careful to not mention anything that might upset them. It's a pleasant, yet mostly superficial meal, making Rachel ache for her childhood when she could do no wrong in her dads' eyes, who she believed created all the stars just for her. Watching her daddy out of her peripheral, makes Rachel believe he misses it as well.

After, she and her dad begin clearing the table; daddy has a call that has to made at exactly seven, leaving the two of them to clean up.

"Have we told you how proud we are of you?" Rachel's dad asks her.

"I assumed as much," she replies.

"Well we are," he says. "You haven't let this place get you down or anything hold you back."

Rachel appreciates what he's trying to do, but it feels a bit like he's down playing all that she's gone through; not to mention the fact, that she faced quite a bit of that without the support of her fathers. "Yes, well, I've told you both as much."

"He'll come around, Rach," her dad tells her. "Now that it's obvious that you're still on the right track."

Rachel sometimes wonders what her fathers would do if she decided to become a doctor instead. Would that still be considered the right track? "Okay."

"Things'll be better once you're in New York," he continues.

"I hope so," Rachel replies. "I'm not sure I could stand it if daddy hates me forever."

"Honey, he doesn't hate you," her dad assures her. "He just doesn't agree with your choices and isn't quite used to disagreeing with you."

He would be if they'd been around more, Rachel thinks. "I know, dad."

"Just don't be so hard on your old dads, honey," her dad continues. "We are trying."

Rachel sighs and nods, not knowing how else to respond.

…

"So I heard something hilarious during lunch," Wendy tells Mike.

They're at Breadstix for dinner, trying to spend as much time together as possible. Though it hasn't been said, Wendy is expecting the relationship to end when Mike leaves for New York in four months.

"Apparently the hockey team is going to try and pull a prank at your graduation," Wendy laughs.

The look of horror that spreads over Mike's face is definitely not the reaction she was going for.

"Do you, uh, know what they're going to do?" Mike asks.

"Um, I'm not sure that they know," Wendy replies. "They were still arguing when lunch ended."

"Well, what were some of the ideas they had?" Mike presses.

"Oh, well, the big winner was putting glue on all the chairs, but obviously, the glue would dry before anyone sat on it, the same with paint. Though since that would be obvious because it would be a different color... The last I heard, they were just going to throw a barrage of pee balloons."

"They said the word, barrage?" Mike questions.

"Uh, no," Wendy says. "That's my word choice. I think they said 'launch a shit ton of pee balloons', actually."

"Oh. Okay."

"Are you okay?" Wendy asks. "You look kind of nauseous."

"I'm fine," Mike replies. "But I'm going to have to know exactly who you were talking to."

"Uh... all right," Wendy says.

…

Becky leads Rachel directly into Coach Sylvester's office. For once Rachel doesn't have to wait for the woman to finish with her previous task. However, neither speak, each studying the other. Rachel blinks first, causing Coach Sylvester to smirk.

"Berry," she says. "I'm only going to say this once, but I'm going to miss the havoc that you've wrought on this school. McKinley will be terribly dull without you next year. I'll have to amuse myself by torturing glee more than I used to."

"Couldn't you leave the others alone?" Rachel questions. "They've done nothing to you."

Coach Sylvester grins. "Perhaps. After all, I'd hate to be predictable."

"Only a tool would accuse you of that," Rachel retorts.

Coach Sylvester just smiles. "Now for the real reason I asked you here."

"Asked isn't the word I'd use," Rachel says.

"Nonetheless," Coach Sylvester continues. "I was hoping that you could leave me with some detailed suggestions of pranks for next year."

Rachel smirks, but nods. "I could do that."

"But?" Coach Sylvester prompts.

"If I give you some... ideas, it would mean you leaving the glee kids alone and not allowing your Cheerios to rule the school so harshly, like they did before."

Coach Sylvester sighs.

"No slushies, at the very least," Rachel continues.

"You really know how to take away all my fun, Berry," Coach Sylvester replies. "The only reason I allowed Lopez's little ban is because both you and the results amused me."

"Lucky me."

"Where's the fun for me now?" Coach Sylvester questions.

"Well, you could inform the glee kids that it's because of myself or Santana that they're not being bullied or harassed and remind them that Mr. Schue still isn't doing anything to protect them," Rachel replies.

"Why Berry," Coach Sylvester smirks. "Is that a hint of bitterness I hear in your voice?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Rachel says. "However, being able to... lord over Mr. Schuester with your... goodness is something he'll never expect."

"That's certainly true," Coach Sylvester muses. "I knew there was a reason I liked you."

"He will definitely hate the fact that Santana was able to do what he wasn't," Rachel thinks out loud. "You know he was absolutely certain that Santana was the prankster until Figgins caught us."

"A compliment in my book," Coach Sylvester says.

"Another difference between the two of you," Rachel replies.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Berry," Coach Sylvester smirks.

"So do we have a deal, Coach?" Rachel asks.

"We have a deal," Coach Sylvester agrees. "But that means you give me at least ten ideas and they better be as impressive as your previous attempts."

Rachel grins. "They will be, Coach. I had plenty of things planned, just not the time, labor force or energy to try them."

"Excellent," Coach Sylvester says. "That's exactly what I was hoping to hear."

…

Mike's spent the night thinking about what Wendy told him about the hockey players. And though he hates to do it, he sees no other alternative, but to go to Santana with the issue. He knows that Rachel chose to tell him because she worries about Santana's temper, but Mike thinks S's protective streak should work in their favor. Santana got the entire school to stop slushing people. Plus what she did to Bender and Willis.

Though following that line of thought, Mike has to wonder why the hockey team is even considering this. Maybe they figure Santana won't retaliate after graduation; after all, why would she care?

From what Mike knows of Santana, that's a stupid assumption, but McKinley isn't known for its students' high IQs.

But knowing what he knows, something has to be done and so Mike spends his lunch hunting down Santana and explaining what he knows.

…

"I really wish that we didn't have to break up."

Brittany continues staring at her English essay. "Well, we don't have to."

Marisa sighs. They're stretched out on their stomachs, side by side on her bed. Her bedroom door is open so she can hear if the twins are causing too much trouble and though she's the one that started this discussion, she still wishes for a bit more privacy for the conversation. But at least her brothers seem to have become bored with spying on her for the moment.

"You really want to try a long distance relationship?" Marisa questions.

"It's not ideal," Brittany admits.

"I appreciate you trying to spare my feelings," Marisa replies. "But we've always know that we have an expiration date."

"That seems cynical," Brittany observes.

"I like to think it's Rachel's pragmatism," Marisa tells her.

Brittany's quiet, eyes still on her essay and so Marisa shrugs and returns to her Algebra.

"Do you wish I hadn't asked you out?" Brittany asks quietly.

"Because you're leaving and I'm staying?" Marisa clarifies.

Brittany nods.

Marisa's not sure how to answer that. "Are you?"

"Definitely not," Brittany replies. "I just wish things didn't have to end."

"Me too."

"You could come to California," Brittany offers.

"That's two years away," Marisa points out.

"So?" Brittany shrugs.

"And what? You're going to wait for me?"

"Well, no," Brittany replies. "Just like I don't expect you to wait for me."

"Because there are so many options in Lima," Marisa retorts.

"I'm just really going to miss you," Brittany says.

"Same here."

"And I want us to stay friends," Brittany continues.

"Because you're going to California all by your lonesome?" Marisa asks.

"It's not the only reason," Brittany pouts.

"Then I want that too."

"We're not breaking up yet, though, are we?" Brittany questions.

"I wasn't planning on it," Marisa replies. "After all, we have a whole summer, right?"

Brittany nods.

"You know you're going to kick ass out there, don't you?"

"I just can't believe I'm graduating this week," Brittany replies. "There were times that it felt like it would never happen."

"You're going to drop the dumb blonde act too, right?" Marisa questions.

"It is no longer useful," Brittany assures her.

"Good," Marisa says. "Because it's so beneath you."

Brittany shrugs. "It felt right at the time."

"Maybe you could even drop it for the rest of the week," Marisa suggests.

"Not worth the effort," Brittany replies. "When did you get so..."

It's Marisa's turn to shrug. "I guess knowing that the hottest Cheerio in the school chose me, bolsters my confidence."

Brittany grins. "Well keep it up. It's super hot."

Marisa groans. "Don't look at me like that. I'm supposed to be watching the twins."

Brittany pouts dramatically. "So we can't make out?"

"My mom will be home in an hour," Marisa says.

Brittany's pout increases.

"And then we can do whatever you want since we won't be bothered for a while," Marisa finishes.

Brittany's grin is downright lecherous. "Something to look forward to."

…

“Not that I’m complaining,” Kat says. “Because I’m not, really. But why are we at the park instead of your house?”

They’re both sitting under a large tree in the park near Kat’s house.

“My dads are home,” Rachel replies.

“That’s a good thing, right?” Kat questions.

“It is,” Rachel agrees. “They’re here for my graduation.”

“You seem less excited than I expected,” Kat observes.

Rachel nods. “I’m glad that they’re going to attend my graduation. However, since they’re home so sporadically, I’ve gotten used to having the house to myself. It’s just a bit of an adjustment.”

"Parents," Kat says.

Rachel chuckles. "You're absolutely correct, though I fear that you're too young to already feel that way."

"Have you met my parents?"

"Touché," Rachel replies.

…

Being dragged to Chang's house by Santana is a surprising way to start his afternoon, but Puck doesn't question it. But as he sits at the kitchen table, he does experience a bit of déjà vu since it feels very much like a planning session. He's surprised that Brittany isn't there as well, but Santana wants it to be a small operation. Puck agrees that that's a good idea, though it would probably help if he knew what the hell is going on.

"Figgins really said that?"

Mike nods. "That's what Rach said."

Puck growls.

"She didn't want you guys to worry," Mike continues. "Or, you know, go on a rampage."

"Except now we have to," Santana says. "There's no way in hell that I'm not graduating because of those dip shits."

"Do you think they're doing it to get back at Rachel?" Mike asks.

"Doubt it," Santana replies. "They probably want to do something big and impressive to prove that they're not losers."

"Wanting to throw pee balloons in the first place makes them losers in my book," Mike says.

"So I assume you have a plan, S?" Puck questions. "Or why else would you have called this meeting?"

"Called this meeting?" Mike scoffs.

"Calm you shit, Pucky," Santana says. "Of course I have a plan."

…

"Rachel, do you have a moment to talk?"

"Sure, Mr. Schuester," Rachel replies. "Um, here?"

Will looks around. Though the hallway is mostly empty, he still feels Sue's spies. "How about my office."

Rachel nods, following him, full of curiosity, hoping she'll still have enough time to eat her lunch after.

"I was hoping we could touch base once more before you graduate," Mr. Schuester says as Rachel sits down.

"All right," Rachel replies.

It's obvious that he's expecting her to say something, but since this chat was his idea, Rachel isn't going to start.

"Um, yes, well," he says after a long, awkward minute. "I think we've come a long way these past three years."

"I agree."

He's still waiting for her to say more, but seems to catch on much quicker this time that she won't be.

"And, even though our relationship hasn't always been... smooth, I still hope that you think of me as your mentor."

"Um..."

"Please feel to speak freely," he prompts.

"I'm sorry to burst your bubble, Mr. Schue," Rachel says. "But I've never considered you my mentor. Finn's perhaps, but never mine."

"Oh."

"Everything's worked out though," Rachel tries.

"Please just tell me that you don't consider Sue your mentor," he pleads.

Rachel shakes her head, because she doesn't, per say. "Of course not, Mr. Schuester. She and I have very different approaches and goals."

"Oh. Good."

"Is that all you wanted to talk about?" Rachel questions when the silence becomes awkward again.

"Uh, yeah, it is," he replies.

Rachel has a feeling he was expecting a lot more from this conversation, but since she's taken him by surprise, he has no idea what to say. She probably shouldn't find that so amusing.

"All right," she says, standing. "Well, thank you for... this."

"Of course Rachel."

She quickly leaves before he can say anything else, hoping she still has enough time to eat her lunch.

…

Tracking down Ben Williams the next day is easy enough. And lucky for them, he's alone, so Puck and Mike each grab an arm and slam him against the wall.

"Hey douchenozzle," Santana greets, stepping in front of him, bottle of chloroform ready. "We need to talk."

"Is this the part where you threaten me, Lopez?" he scoffs. "Oh no, what horrible thing will you do to me?"

Santana chuckles. "Now I understand why you're not scared." She holds up the bottle of chloroform for him to see. "Because you seem to think you'll be given a choice." Santana grabs the bandana sticking out of Puck's back pocket and balls it up.

Williams visibly gulps, but continues to glare at Santana.

"And the only reason we didn't just sneak up on you," Santana says. "Is because I wanted to make sure you knew who was doing this to you."

"What the fucking fuck is that supposed to mean Lopez?"

"It was nice knowing you, Williams," Santana tells him. "Well, not really, but now hardly seems like the time for the truth. Seems cruel that the last thing he hears is what a waste of breath he is."

Mike and Puck nod. "Definitely." "Agreed."

"You really expect me to believe that?" Williams scoffs. "Being hit in the head with a hockey puck twice, doesn't mean I'm a retard."

Santana rolls her eyes. "Believe what you want, moron. But I have a bottle of chloroform and a rag. Plus, two guys strong enough to drag you anywhere." Santana grins. "And none of us particularly like you. So there's that."

"Whatever, bitch," William retorts. "You don't have the fucking balls."

Twisting open the bottle, Santana just smirks. "Well, I guess we're about to find out."

…

The end of the school year is always a trying time to be a principal and it's with a sense of relief that Figgins exits his office on the last day of the school year. The campus is almost completely empty, the only people left being the janitorial staff as they prepare for the next day's ceremony.

When Figgins arrives at his car, he's shocked to find a student duct taped, naked to a crucifix made of hockey sticks and "was going to prank ceremony" written in permanent marker on his chest, leaning against it.

Ripping the tape off his mouth, Figgins asks, "Is that true, Mr. Williams?"

"What? Course not," Williams replies.

"Then why would someone do this to you?" Figgins questions. "Make this accusation?"

"Payback, I guess."

"For what, Mr. Williams?"

"Um..."

"No, really," Figgins says. "I'm curious."

"Uh..."

"Well?"

"No idea, sir," Williams sighs.

"Well then, Mr. Williams," Figgins replies. "I think you and I need to have a discussion with your parents."

"Yes sir."

…

"You sure that you don't want to spend tonight with Marisa?" Santana asks Brittany as they wait for Quinn to show up.

Brittany shakes her head. "We have plenty of time."

"Are you guys breaking up?"

Brittany nods. "End of the summer."

"Oh," Santana replies. "You seem... fine with it."

"Well, I'm not happy about it," Brittany says. "But what choice do we have?"

Santana shrugs.

"I hope you realize how lucky you are, S," Brittany continues. "You and Rachy don't have to deal with that conundrum."

Santana can't help but smile. "No, I suppose we don't."

“I kind of love the fact that Rachel still makes you a big soft gooey marshmallow,” Brittany smirks.

Santana rolls her eyes, but doesn’t dispute Brittany’s claim.

…

When Figgins leaves the Williams' house, he feels confident that there will be no interruptions during the ceremony tomorrow.

It seems like threatening Ms. Berry was a wise move on his part. Not only has it stopped Berry and her cohorts from pulling something, it also, apparently, made her vigilant about stopping any and all other possible attempts.

Figgins is so pleased that he doesn't even mind that he had to suspend someone on the last day of the year and all the extra paperwork that the move entails.

He won't be completely relaxed until everything tomorrow happens smoothly, but, hopefully, tonight will be a bit less restless for him.

…

"I would have thought that you'd want to spend tonight with Berry," Quinn says as Santana hands her a beer.

"Rachy understands," Brittany answers. "Besides, she's going to be stuck with Santana in New York. She deserves a hiatus."

"Nice, B," Santana retorts. "Thanks."

"That's true," Quinn muses. "She's going to be stuck with you for a long time now. She's probably glad for the reprieve."

Santana rolls her eyes. "You're both hilarious."

…

"I'm honored that you want to spend tonight with me and not Lopez," Puck says.

"She's with Quinn and Brittany," Rachel explains.

"Ah yes," he replies. "The Unholy Trinity."

"Like you haven't worshiped at that alter."

"Damn bro," he says. "Jealous?"

"Of your drunken fumbling?" Rachel scoffs. "Hardly."

"I know it's hard, Rach," Puck says. "But if it helps, I think you're making the right decision."

"Yes, well, thank you," Rachel replies. "I just don't want to regret it."

"You won't."

"You sound incredibly sure," Rachel says. "May I ask you something?"

"You know you can, bro."

"Something possibly painful."

Puck sighs. "You can ask."

"Do you regret giving up Beth?"

"Shit, Rachel," he says. "Really?"

She doesn't respond.

"Things work out the way they're supposed to," he replies. "And we can only move forward."

"You're awfully introspective tonight," Rachel says.

"Blame it on the beer."

"It's nice to know that even you aren't immune to the pensiveness of graduation," Rachel tells him.

“Hey, I can grow.”

…

"Thanks for the heads up about the hockey team," Mike tells Wendy.

"Oh sure," Wendy replies. "Though I didn't realize that you needed a heads up."

"Well no one really did," Mike admits. "So that's some good luck on my part."

"Do I even want to know what you did with that info?" Wendy asks.

Mike shrugs. "All that matters is that it's been taken care of," he says.

"If I didn't already know what Rachel and Santana are capable of, I'd think you worked for the Asian mafia or something," Wendy informs Mike.

Mike chuckles. "Yeah, I guess that does sound a bit ominous, huh?"

Wendy nods. "I'm going to miss that next year."

"Yeah, I'm going to miss it too. Just having to worry about college will almost seem mundane," Mike agrees. He pauses. "Do we need to, uh, talk about next year and… us?"

"I don't think so," Wendy replies. "I mean, I don't see any other option. And we’ve never been that serious."

"Yeah, I suppose not," Mike says.

"Though next year is definitely going to be boring as hell," Wendy says.

"Knowing this place, someone will step up to keep things interesting."

"God, I hope so," Wendy sighs.

…

After the ceremony, Rachel receives hugs from her fathers and they take a dozen pictures of her in her cap and gown and all the usual tension between them seems to have melted away. Rachel knows her dads do care, but most days it's difficult to remember, however today is a joyous day. In spite of this, it's quickly dimmed when Rachel mentions Santana and the mood quickly shifts. Suddenly, her dads have places to be. She nods and tries not to look too disappointed. She knows the reason they're leaving is to avoid any sort of confrontation, especially one in public and she appreciates that. She's not in the mood for another disagreement about her choice of girlfriend. Though, she does wonder about their level of loathing for Santana, that they can't even keep their temper on this happy day. A small part of her, the part that's always craved their approval and has shrunk over the years, but not totally disappeared, wants to tell them about her plans to end things with Santana. But her pride, which has only grown over the years, doesn't want to give them the satisfaction; especially since it's not for the reasons they have. Her reasons are her own and she knows that no one else will understand her logic. But mostly, she know that she couldn't bear to see the joy on their faces from the announcement, so she simply bids them goodbye and decides to seek out Santana and her family. That will definitely cheer her up.

…

The ceremony can't be over fast enough for Santana. Being done with McKinley is even more of a relief than she expected it to be. She spends most of the ceremony daydreaming, while watching Rachel sitting rows in front of her. Even her girlfriend looks bored, so Santana doesn't feel that guilty about not paying attention.

Afterwards, her parents insist on tons of pictures which she doesn't mind too much, despite her very snarky protests.

Rachel appears sooner than Santana expected and it's obvious from her expression that her fathers have once again disappointed her.

Santana's mom seems to sense the same thing and begins to distract Rachel with congratulations and pictures, which her father quickly joins, making Santana extremely grateful for her parents. She doesn't even mind how obvious it is that Rachel is their favorite.

…

Rachel drove herself to McKinley; despite her fathers' protests. Personally she doesn't see what the big deal is. She's just glad she won that argument and since her fathers took off without her; Rachel is willing to bet, that they are, as well. Though it is mostly their fault in Rachel’s opinion. They can’t leave her to her own devices for years and then expect her to so easily fall back in line.

Now as she finds herself with the Lopezs', she's especially glad because it means that she and Santana can leave together. They’ve barely seen each other lately and though that is by their own mutual design, Rachel has really missed Santana. She supposes the weight of the impending break up is the largest factor. Rachel thought making the decision would help her feel a bit more at ease, instead she feels infinitely worse.

But today is a happy occasion, so Rachel tries to shake it off and just enjoy the rest of the day.

…

Rachel's honestly not sure whose house she's at. Brittany had picked her up, having already gotten Quinn and Santana. The party is already well underway when they arrive and so they head into the kitchen, looking for drinks. Figuring someone should stay sober to drive them home, Rachel makes herself a very weak rum and Coke before she begins wandering. It seems like every other party she's been to, except that people seem even more determined than usual to get wasted as fast as possible. Apparently now that they have their diplomas, keeping their few remaining brain cells doesn't matter anymore.

"You say that as if they ever cared about that, Berry," Quinn says. "Personally, I'm surprised that most of these idiots managed to graduate."

"Because McKinley has such high standards," Rachel retorts.

"I'm a bit disappointed in you, Berry," Quinn continues.

"And why is that?" Rachel inquires.

"I thought for sure that you would have pulled some elaborate prank at graduation," Quinn explains. "Go out with a bang or whatever."

"I did have one in mind," Rachel replies. "But Figgins wouldn't have let me graduate."

"So?"

"So?" Rachel repeats. "So I wouldn't have been able to attend Julliard."

"Not to mention the shame of being expelled from McKinley," Noah adds, joining them. "I don't think anyone's ever been expelled. And there's been some crazy shit pulled there and that's not even including what me and my bro pulled."

"Just because you were the barely there brawn to Berry's brain, doesn't mean that you get to be smug, Puck," Quinn retorts.

"Whatever, Q," Noah scoffs. "You're just jealous that I had more fun than you."

"Which definitely shows in your GPA," Quinn retorts.

"Like that matters anymore, Fabray."

"Just because—"

"I can't believe I'm saying this," Rachel interjects. "But maybe you two should have another drink."

"Good idea, babe," Santana says, plopping into Rachel's lap.

“I can’t wait until I never have to see you again,” Quinn tells Puck.

“Love you too, Q.”

…

"You guys hear about Williams?" Tina asks.

"The moronic captain of the hockey team? What about him?" Quinn questions.

"He got suspended yesterday," Tina informs them.

"The last day of the year?" Quinn scoffs. "Idiot."

"I heard it was cause he was going to prank graduation," Finn adds.

"And Figgins caught him?" Rachel questions.

"Course not," Puck says. "Me, S and Chang took care of it."

"Shut the fuck up, Puckerman," Santana snaps.

"Why would you do that?" Rachel asks.

"Yeah," Tina adds. "Why?"

"You know why," Santana tells Rachel.

Rachel sighs. "I take it that Mike told you?"

"He had no choice, babe," Santana replies.

"What the hell are you two babbling about?" Quinn asks.

Rachel sighs. "Nothing."

"Rach," Puck prompts.

"Is this about Figgins not letting any of us graduate?" Brittany asks.

Rachel sighs again and rolls her eyes.

"Figures," Santana laughs.

"What does that mean?" Tina questions. "Any of us?"

"Figgins is an ass," Santana says.

"Yeah, duh," Finn pipes up. "Even I knew that."

"He wasn't going to let any of us graduate if a prank was pulled at the ceremony," Puck tells them.

"Even if Rachel didn't pull the prank?" Tina asks.

"Apparently anything crazy that now occurs is my fault," Rachel retorts.

"And when you say, us?" Quinn prompts.

Rachel sighs again. "All the seniors in glee."

"He can't do that," Finn protests. "Can he do that?"

"He definitely can do that," Artie says.

"Well it doesn't matter now, guys," Rachel says.

"Still, we should prank him," Artie suggests.

"Why?" Santana asks.

"Because."

"The last time Rachel listened to you about a prank, she got caught," Brittany points out.

"That wasn't my fault," Artie protests.

"It was bound to happen eventually," Rachel adds.

"Exactly," Artie agrees.

"I think we should prank Figgins," Finn says.

"You would," Santana scoffs.

"It'll be a bonding experience," Finn continues.

"We don't need to bond anymore, Finn," Quinn snaps.

"It could be our last hurrah together," Brittany pipes up.

"Please don't help, B," Santana says.

"I think we should do it," Artie says.

"It could be fun," Tina agrees.

"One last prank for old times' sake, bro," Puck adds.

Rachel sighs.

"That's five, Rach," Artie announces.

"I bet Kurt would go for it," Finn adds.

"Chang would be up for it too, I'm sure," Puck offers.

"You don't know that, Noah."

"Tell me that you don't have an idea already," Puck replies. "And I'll drop it."

"That is so unfair," Rachel protests. "You know that I do. Otherwise you wouldn't have said that."

"Does that mean that we're doing it?" Finn asks.

Rachel sighs again. "Only if everyone is in."

"Awesome," Finn says, jumping up. "I'm on it."

"Don't let them push you into this, babe," Santana hisses.

"There's no way that everyone's going to agree, tiger," Rachel whispers back.

…

"Everyone's in," Finn announces twenty minutes later.

"Seriously?" Santana questions. "Even Mercedes?"

"Yep," Finn replies.

"Unbelievable."

"Finn feels like he missed out before," Brittany points out. "I bet the others feel the same way."

"You're in too, Q?" Santana asks.

Quinn shrugs. "Why not?"

Santana sighs, causing Quinn to smirk.

"It's fine, San," Rachel replies. "I should have expected it."

"It's just... what if you get in trouble again? Coach won't be around to save you."

"Awww, S, that is so sweet," Brittany exclaims.

"Hush, B," Santana tells her, trying to hide her blush behind her plastic cup.

…

Rachel actually feels a bit sorry for Figgins; but apparently it has to be done. She's not exactly sure why, since any leverage Figgins has over her is now gone. Rachel even swears that she saw grudging respect in his eyes when he shook her hand at graduation.

Okay, so maybe it's a matter of pride; no one would disagree that her arrogance is high. She's been telling herself it's because Figgins threatened her friends, but there's a small part of her that wonders if it's something else beyond that and Finn's pushing.

"Don't worry about it, babe," Santana tells her as they quietly approach Figgins' house. "What's done is done."

"But we haven't done anything yet."

"Where did you get the cement mixer from?" Santana questions, obviously trying to distract her.

"You don't think we're going too far?" Rachel responds.

"You're probably asking the wrong person," Santana replies. "After all, I was schooled by Coach Sylvester. This is definitely mild in her book."

"Let's just get this over with," Rachel sighs, quietly climbing out of the car.

"That's not the attitude to have, Rachy," Brittany whispers loudly.

"I know, Britt," Rachel smiles. "But can we talk about it later?"

Brittany nods and skips back over to Noah's truck.

"Smile babe," Santana whispers. "It's your last prank ever."

Rachel nods and lets herself lean into Santana as they watch Mike and Noah attach the chute to the mixer, push it up the driveway and position it.

Knowing that their time is limited, everyone springs into action. Artie is running the mixer and he starts it up as Tina begins scooping in the Bisquick mix while Brittany adds the water. Once it's blended properly, Mike and Puck each grab a shovel and start throwing the extra thick batter onto the driveway. Meanwhile, Rachel and Santana each grab a concrete rake and begin smoothing the mixture out. As the driveway is covered, Kurt and Finn help Artie move the mixer backwards down the driveway while Quinn and Mercedes drag the still remaining water and Bisquick powder containers along as well.

Everyone had been skeptical when Rachel had explained the prank, but weirdly no one protested. For which Rachel is thankful; because in her mind, the over fifty pranks she successfully pulled are her defense. Not to mention, no one else offered any suggestions. Plus, it's simple enough to pull off on short notice, the most difficult thing to find being a cement mixer, but all that took was a call to Tommy Saunders. Noah was able to get a hold of the various needed tools while the others paired up and bought the Bisquick and jugs of water. The others had questioned that decision, but Rachel pointed out that buying like sixty boxes of Bisquick at once would be probably look suspicious.

The whole process is a quiet team effort that takes a little over an hour. Rachel is pleased with their speed, while everyone else, except for Santana and Brittany, are surprised that Rachel didn't make them sing while they worked.

Once the entire sidewalk and driveway is covered, the tools are tossed back into the back of Noah's truck and the cement mixer is awkwardly lifted onto the truck bed by the guys.

Without another word, everyone climbs back into their vehicles and drives away.

…

They end up at Noah's house since Rachel doesn't want to risk running into her dads and his house is empty. And apparently they're having a party because there's a keg and Noah is toasting their efforts.

"I told you," he crows, holding up his half full plastic cup. "Fucking epic! That's how we do it. Figgins can go fuck himself!"

"Calm your tits, Puckerman," Santana retorts. "You're acting like it's your first time."

"Or the last, Lopez," Puck replies. "Gotta enjoy the high."

"That was damn fun," Finn exclaims. He plops down on the couch. "Totally awesome."

"You said it dude."

"And totally addicting," Finn adds.

Kurt groans. "You better not start pranking me now."

"No way Kurt," Finn says. "Your dad would kick my ass."

…

They end up emptying the keg; Puck says that it's a must.

"It's our last bash, guys," he tells them all.

"You say that like there won't be parties all summer," Brittany counters.

"Because what else is there to do in this hell hole?" Quinn adds.

"Why do you have to ruin all my fun?" Puck whines.

"Like I said," Quinn replies. "What else is there to do around here?"

Puck flips her off and goes to turn up the music.

…

Eventually no one's sober enough to go home and so people end up crashing on every bit of furniture or the floor.

…

Santana wakes up wrapped around Rachel on the couch. Everyone is passed out around the room. There's an odd weight on her legs and blinking to help focus, Santana raises her head and sees Brittany curled up in a ball at the other end of the couch. Santana's not sure how her best friend managed to sleep comfortably in such a small space, but figures all that beer helped.

Despite the hangover that's slowly making itself known, Santana is happy. High school is over, she has an entire summer of freedom in front of her, she's in love, she has her best friends to hang with all summer, not to mention that she and her fellow glee clubbers just pulled one more awesome prank. She definitely has no complaints.

Her shifting seems to have woken up Rachel, though.

"Too early," she mumbles. "Back to sleep, tiger."

Santana chuckles, making her head throb slightly. Though the sun is just barely up, Rachel is usually up by this time every morning. Her girlfriend must have drank more than Santana realized.

Deciding that Rachel's command is a good idea, Santana closes her eyes, relaxes around her girlfriend and lets herself all back asleep.

A/N: Once again, thank you for reading and commenting and especially for sticking with this insanity. I really appreciate it. I would like to actually finish Ambitions, once I figure out what I want to happen. But for now, I will probably try and work on more deleted scenes. Anything you want to see, let me know.

fic: Something to Do

2013-11-13T22:55:48Z

Title: Something to Do
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, Puck, Brittany/Maris, Mike/Wendy
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Puck's bored.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~2,100
A/N: Follows Quite the Precedent. The first book that Puck finds does exist, though my copy that I reference is the first edition and many years old. The second one does not.
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.

series masterlist

Puck is bored. As much as he enjoys hanging with his bro, getting drunk and playing video games just doesn’t hold the same appeal anymore.

“Something bothering you, Noah?”

“No. Why?”

“Because that’s the third time you’ve sighed in five minutes,” Rachel replies.

“Oh,” he says. “I’m fine.”

“Obviously,” Rachel retorts.

“I miss pulling pranks,” he replies. “Why’d you agree to Artie’s insane plan? Maybe if you hadn’t…”

“We still would have gotten caught,” Rachel tells him. “It was only a matter of time.”

“That doesn’t sound like my optimistic bro,” Puck says.

“No,” Rachel replies. “It’s your pragmatic one.”

“Booorrinngg.”

"Why is it solely my responsibility to come up with activities?" Rachel asks.

"Touché," Puck replies. "Fine. I'll come up with next week's activity."

…

Puck spends the week researching. Rachel jokes that if he had devoted even half that amount of energy towards school, he'd be an A student. Puck, personally, has his doubts.

…

"I know what we're doing tonight," Puck announces at lunch.

"You're letting Puck plan your Friday night?" Santana questions.

Rachel shrugs. "He has things he wants to do."

"You two are going to end up in jail," Santana groans.

"Hey, I haven't even told you guys my idea yet," Puck protests.

"Let's hear your idea, Pucky," Brittany exclaims.

"Yeah, Pucky," Mike grins.

Puck rolls his eyes. "So I found this book." He holds up a thin black book.

Rachel snatches the book out of his hand. "Fire eating. A manual of instruction," she reads.

"Where'd you even get this book?" Mike questions.

"So you want a visit from the fire department, instead," Santana says.

"That seems worse," Brittany adds.

Meanwhile, Rachel is flipping through the book.

Puck watches gleefully, since it seems that Rachel might actually go for it.

"Here's something I didn't know," Rachel says. "Lighter fluid can stain concrete."

"Important lesson," Mike says.

"I like that he warns you that smoking cigarettes is harmful to your health," Brittany adds, reading over Rachel's shoulder.

"Do you think typing a warning in caps discourages people?" Mike asks, joining Brittany.

"We are most certainly not trying this Noah," Rachel tells him.

"But it's a manual of instruction," Puck protests. "That's better than googling it, right?"

"What about the part in caps that reads, fire eating is extremely dangerous and that the reader undertakes any of these stunts at his/her own risk?" Mike questions.

"Plus, then there's another warning after that in italics," Brittany adds.

"Yeah, you guys are definitely not doing that," Santana says.

"Fine," Puck huffs and slumps into the empty chair next to Brittany.

…

Rachel tries to make it up to Puck by getting fireworks for the evening. They set off Wheels and Fountains and the mild danger level feels like enough for him. It's not quite fire eating, but it's still pretty cool.

…

Puck decides on ice sculpting because it has the potential to appeal to both him and Rachel. He scours the internet looking for instructions or tutorials and stumbles onto Ice Sculpting: Art for the Uninitiated. It seems to be available cheaply locally, so he goes out and buys it. The store is the same place he found the fire eating book. He'll have to remember that The Book Barrel is the place to find strange how to books.

He eagerly reads through it and it seems so completely doable. Rach will totally go for it, he's sure. There's definitely room in her backyard and he vaguely remembers seeing a chainsaw in the garage. Though, considering that Rachel's dads are never home to really do any yard work, Puck doesn't understand why they have one in the first place.

The book also recommends using a blow torch and he thinks that he's seen one in a kitchen drawer. It all seems like serendipity to Puck; the fact that he found the book and that Rachel has the necessary tools already at her house.

…

"Another book?" Santana questions the moment Puck sits down.

"I didn't know that you could read, Pucky," Brittany says, cheekily, causing Marisa to giggle.

"Watch it," Puck growls.

"Get a sense of humor," Santana snaps.

Rachel takes the book out of Puck's hands and begins flipping through it. Marisa looks over her shoulder.

"Isn't it a bit warm for outside ice sculpting?" Marisa asks.

"We live in Ohio," Puck answers.

"It's April," Brittany points out.

"And I'm not comfortable using a chainsaw without supervision or direction from an expert, Noah," Rachel adds.

Puck sighs. "I can't win with you guys."

"Not when you come up with stupid ideas, you can't," Santana smirks.

"I don't hear you coming up with anything better, Lopez," Puck retorts.

"You didn't ask," she replies.

"Because I don't want your help."

"Enough," Rachel says. "I'm sorry, Noah, but I don't think this is going to work. Besides the concern about our lacking knowledge of proper chainsaw usage, we don't have any fuel for ours."

"You could buy some," Brittany suggests.

Rachel ignores her. "I'm taking it as a sign."

"So then what exactly are we doing tonight?"

…

"We're really hot wiring my truck?"

"You have a problem with that?" Rachel questions as she pops the hood.

"Well, no, it's not that," Puck replies, joining Rachel as she walks to the front of the trunk.

"Then what?"

Puck shrugs. "I guess I never really thought you'd want to... uh, endorse that kind of behavior."

"We're learning a skill, Noah," Rachel tells him.

"A criminally related skill," Puck replies.

"Perhaps," Rachel agrees. "But if the apocalypse happens and I survive it, knowing how to hot wire a car may come in handy."

"I think you've been spending too much time with Artie," Puck says.

"As opposed to all those stupid action flicks you've made me watch?" Rachel counters.

Since this is something Puck's actually interested in, he's not sure why he's arguing. "So what's first?"

…

“All right,” Puck says, plopping down next to Rachel during lunch on Friday. “I think I’ve finally figured it out.”

“I thought you’d give up by now, Pucky,” Brittany says.

Puck ignores her. “Since you rejected my two previous awesome ideas—”

“Yet potentially fatal,” Mike interjects.

“I have come up with one that you have to agree to.”

“I have to?”

"You do," he asserts.

"All right," Rachel says. "I'm listening."

Puck’s response is to slap two brand new decks of cards on the table.

“We’re not playing strip poker, Noah.”

“With just the two of us?” Puck scoffs. “Boorrinng.”

“Are you saying that Rachy’s not hot?” Brittany questions.

“Definitely not the point,” Puck says. “And no, I’m not suggesting poker, strip or otherwise.”

“So spit it out already, Puckerman," Santana snaps.

“Card throwing,” Puck announces, triumphantly.

“Card throwing?” Wendy repeats.

Puck nods. “It has the potential to be awesome, it’s a skill very few people have and it’s far less dangerous than fire eating or using a chainsaw.”

“Plus, I do believe I have a slight advantage since I know how to throw knives,” Rachel adds.

“You do?” Wendy questions.

Brittany nods. “She does.”

“So bro?” Puck asks. “What do you think?”

“It sounds intriguing,” Rachel replies.

“Awesome.”

…

Puck shows up with a case of beer, the two decks of cards and a pumpkin.

“Is it Halloween already?” Rachel greets when she opens the door and finds herself face to face with the large orange squash.

“Target.”

Rachel nods and they head straight to the back yard to learn how to throw cards.

It turns out card throwing isn’t simply just whipping the card really hard. Well, it is and it isn’t. It is if you are super close to the item and don’t care about what else you hit. It isn’t if you’re standing a few yards away and are concerned about accuracy.

“It seems to be all in the wrists,” Rachel observes.

Puck feels like there’s a potential dirty joke about masturbation and/or lesbians, but can’t quite seem to work it out in his head. Maybe he shouldn't have started drinking already.

“They also make metal throwing cards,” Rachel says.

“Like cards specifically made for throwing?” Puck asks.

Rachel nods and then flicks a card. “They’re metal, but still thin, with a very sharp edge.”

“So they’re kind of like rectangular throwing stars?” Puck questions.

“I suppose so,” Rachel replies.

“That sounds awesome,” Puck says. “Where’d you see those?”

“Same place I bought my throwing knives.”

“Oh. Cool. We should go there next week,” Puck says, flicking another card.

“As if you need to own sharp things that can be thrown,” Rachel replies. “I can just picture you getting drunk and deciding to practice throwing them. Except you decide to do it in your bedroom.”

“God, if I’m that stupid, I’m either at alcohol poison level drunk or too stupid to graduation.”

“I think we’re getting better,” Rachel says, examining the cards sticking out of the pumpkin. “More are sticking than not.”

“Yeah,” Puck agrees. “Though our accuracy still sucks.”

“I’ll worry about that when every card I throw, sticks in the pumpkin,” Rachel tells him.

“Well, I really want to be able to put out a candle with just a playing card,” Puck says.

“That seems like advanced level card throwing,” Rachel replies. “Leaps and bounds ahead of where we are now.”

“It’s something to aim for,” Puck says.

…

“No grand scheme this week?” Santana asks, sitting down.

For once, Puck is first to the Friday lunch table. He shakes his head. “I’m giving up.”

“I thought last week’s card throwing was quite successful,” Rachel says as she sits.

“It was,” Puck agrees. “But I’m out of ideas. At least ones that you negative nancys would actually approve of.”

“Did you just say negative nancys?” Santana questions. She turns to Rachel. “You’re a bad influence on him.”

“Finally,” Rachel says. “You guys are always going on about how he’s a bad influence on me.”

“So what are you doing tonight then?”

Puck shrugs.

“Sword fighting?” Rachel suggests.

“You have a sword?” Santana asks.

“You know how to sword fight?” Puck asks.

“Well, stage fighting,” Rachel replies. “That’s close, right?”

Both Santana and Puck shrug.

“I figure with a little adjusting, it could work,” Rachel explains.

“But you don’t think that’s too dangerous?” Puck questions.

“We won’t be using real swords,” Rachel replies.

“Well, where’s the fun in that?”

“All right, then I’ll just think of something else,” Rachel says.

…

“You want me to juggle fire,” Puck says, skeptical, looking at the equipment laid out on the grass of Rachel’s backyard. “I thought you were against fire.”

“I’m against eating it,” Rachel retorts. “This is different.”

“Shouldn’t I learn how to juggle something less dangerous first?”

“That’s why we won’t set the torches on fire right away, Noah,” Rachel explains. “But I thought it’d be easier if you just learn with the item.”

“Still,” Puck protests. “You were the one so worried about the dangers of fire. And I’m not really in the mood to visit the ER for third degree burns.”

“I’m sure at worst, you’d only get second degree burns, Noah,” Rachel says. “My reflexes are pretty quick. If you catch fire, I’ll put you out in no time.”

“I’m just surprised is all,” Puck explains.

“Well, as you can see,” Rachel says. “I have a fire extinguisher and a bucket of water.”

“Yeah, but still—”

“I also have the hose here, waiting,” Rachel continues. “The water will be turned on before we start.”

“Oh. Well, if you’re sure.”

“We don’t have to, Noah,” Rachel says. “I just thought since I had access to everything we need. Plus, it’s slightly less dangerous than using a chainsaw and definitely less dangerous than eating fire.”

“But I’ve never really juggled before,” Puck replies.

Rachel sighs. “Bon fire, then?”

“Can we roast marshmallows?”

…

“I can’t believe that you were actually going to attempt to juggle fire,” Santana says the next morning, looking out into the backyard at the still left out fire extinguisher, bucket and hose.

“I was going to water down the grass around where Noah would be standing,” Rachel replies from the stove.

“Still, Puckerman doesn’t even know how to juggle,” Santana says. “Seems risky.”

“I thought that was what Noah was going for,” Rachel explains. “That and avoiding boredom.”

“Sounds more like you reverse psych-ed him,” Santana replies.

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Does that mean you’re back to video games, stupid movies and drinking?”

“God, I hope so.”

“You really are a bad influence on him, babe,” Santana retorts.

“And you always say the sweetest things,” Rachel replies.

A/N: Believe it or not, this is the second to last fic before Ambitions begins. If there's anything you want answered, explained or followed up on, let me know and I'll do my best to incorporate it.

fic: Quite the Precedent

2013-11-08T23:42:59Z

Title: Quite the Precedent
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, Brittany, Quinn, Puck
Rating: PG
Summary: It's Santana's birthday.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~4,110
A/N: This is version 2.0. Thanks to silviafan1986 for the heads up that Quinn already came out to mom.
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.

series masterlist

With all the chaos of the group prank, her suspension and then the copycat prankster, Rachel's barely been able to think about Santana's birthday. This is particularly unfortunately since Rachel has no idea what her girlfriend wants. And it's not as if Rachel forgot about Santana's birthday; more like she hadn't realized how close it really is. Still, she has a whole week and a half to figure out what Santana might want to do on her eighteenth birthday.

…

"San?"

"Yeah babe?"

"What are we doing for your birthday?" Rachel asks.

"I don't care," Santana shrugs.

"It's your eighteenth birthday," Rachel says. "We have to do something."

"Why?"

"Because we do," Rachel replies.

Santana sighs. “Well the obvious answer is that we throw a party. But then you have to deal with the aftermath.”

“True,” Rachel agrees.

"Plus, we did that last year," Santana continues.

"Also true."

“You know what’d be awesome?” Santana asks. “Just you and me. We can spend the weekend naked."

"We do that almost every weekend, San," Rachel replies.

"And your point is?"

Rachel shakes her head, but doesn't reply.

"Please tell me you're not pouting," Santana tries, but Rachel stays quiet.

"Here's what we're going to do for your birthday," Rachel says eventually.

"Excuse me?" Santana chuckles. "Shouldn't I get to decide that?"

"Well considering that I did use your input and am now making a decision based off your initial answer," Rachel replies. "I would say that you did get to decide. Just indirectly."

Santana laughs. "All right babe. Let's hear your idea."

"So dad's boss has this amazing cabin that he sometimes lets dad and daddy use," Rachel explains. "I bet if I asked, my dad would get permission for us to use it."

"A cabin, babe?" Santana is skeptical. "I'm not really a fan of camping."

"And you assume I am? Have you met me?" Rachel retorts. "Trust me. It's not really a cabin as much as it is a ridiculously expensive second house set on a lake."

"Oh. Well, when you put it that way..."

"There's a Jacuzzi..."

"All right, you've sold me," Santana says.

"Excellent," Rachel says. "Now we just have to talk to your folks before I call dad, don't you think?"

"Why? I already spend all weekend over here, anyway," Santana replies.

"San."

"Fine," Santana huffs. "I'll ask them."

…

"I'm thinking of visiting Alyson this weekend," Quinn says.

"You're going to drive to Pittsburgh all by yourself?" Brittany questions.

"Akron actually," Quinn answers. "It's about half way in between."

"And your mom is going to let you?" Santana asks.

"She said she would after I introduced Alyson to her," Quinn replies.

"If she says no," Brittany says. "We can go with you next weekend, Quinn."

Santana sighs. "We probably could."

"You think your parents would let you go again?" Quinn asks.

Santana shrugs. "I'll just have Rach ask. She's their favorite."

Brittany giggles.

…

When her parents ask her about her birthday, Santana's a bit surprised. It's been a few years since they've asked her what she wants to do for her birthday. Before dating Rachel, Santana was a bit of a spoiled brat, so her parents usually just gave her cash and left her to her own devices. Rachel's influence on all of them has never been more obvious to Santana. Secure in this knowledge, Santana explains what she'd like to do for her birthday. Her parents don't immediately react and so Santana's confidence falters slightly as she finishes. Perhaps she's relying too much on her parents' love of Rachel and the changes she's brought forth in Santana.

"That wasn't what we were expecting," her dad tells her.

"Oh. Okay."

"It's not a bad thing, dear," her mom adds. "Just... unexpected."

"Okay," Santana replies, slowly. "And that means?"

"Your mom and I need to discuss it first," her dad answers.

Santana nods and drops the subject, hoping her mature response will work in her favor.

…

"What are we doing next weekend?" Santana asks Rachel later that night.

"Nothing specific that I'm aware of," Rachel replies. "Though I have to wonder why you asked since we're celebrating your birthday this weekend. Why are you already worried about next weekend?"

"Well, Q wants go visit Alyson by herself this weekend," Santana explains. "But just in case her mom says no, B offered for us to go with next weekend. Like last time."

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Are you sure that your parents would give you permission again?"

"I have no idea," Santana replies. "But I figure if you ask them, then they will."

"You know your dad just enjoys teasing you, right?"

"I know he does," Santana says. "But I also still think that you're their favorite."

"They like me for you Santana," Rachel replies. "I mean, I believe they like me, but I also believe that they like the person you're becoming when we're together. Not to sound too arrogant."

"No," Santana says. "That's the normal amount of Rachel Berry arrogance I expect."

"Ha ha."

"So you're cool going up to Pittsburgh next weekend, if need be?"

"I suppose another road trip might be fun," Rachel agrees.

"Cool."

…

Despite the optimism she has when talking with Santana, Rachel really isn't certain that her dad will agree. Even though her dad's boss loves him and by extension, her, Rachel's still not sure that her dad would actually want to help create a situation that allows her and Santana to be alone all weekend in comfort.

Thankfully, he agrees. He says it's only because he thinks Michael is over reacting to the relationship. "And I like the confidence she's helped instill in you." He also doesn't ask her to keep it a secret; another surprise.

She doesn't get a confirmation text until late that night, but her dad tells her that his boss, Jamie is fine with it and will messenger over the key the next day.

…

Quinn is feeling particularly anti social today, so she decides to eat lunch in the choir room. She knows that she runs the possibility of running into Rachel or worse, Mr. Schue, is high, but she decides to risk it because she just can't handle the lunch room today.

She's surprised to find Rachel and Brittany inside, quietly eating. Quinn looks around, but doesn't see Santana anywhere.

"She's talking to Coach," Brittany answers.

"Oh," Quinn replies sitting next to Brittany.

"I'm glad you're here Quinn," Rachel says. "As there was something I was hoping to discuss with you at one point."

Quinn sighs. "Berry, I'm really not in the mood for some—"

"I was talking to Santana last night," Rachel interrupts. "And I wanted you to know that if your mother doesn't give you permission or you're too afraid to ask, we can all drive up to Pittsburgh next weekend."

"Oh."

"Roooad Trip, woo hoo," Brittany exclaims.

"You say that like we've never been on a road trip together, Britt," Rachel says.

"It'll be like an adventure," Brittany replies. "And maybe Marisa can come this time?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves here, Brittany," Rachel says. "It may not be necessary."

"True," Brittany agrees. "If Quinn can nut up and ask for permission, then it'll be fine."

"Please never say, 'nut up' again, B," Quinn tells her.

"Okay."

"I'm sure if your mom said she'd be okay with it before, Quinn," Rachel says. "I'm sure she'll still agree now."

"I know," Quinn replies. "I guess I'm just worried that now that she's had some time to think about it, she'll change her mind."

"About you visiting Alyson alone?" Brittany questions.

"Yeah," Quinn replies. "And maybe about me being gay."

"You live with her Quinn," Rachel points out. "Do you ever get that sense from her?"

Quinn shakes her head.

"Then I guess I'm not sure I understand why you're so worried," Rachel says.

Quinn shrugs. "I guess I'm just so used to parental disapproval that I still expect it; even if my dad is gone."

"Well, that's certainly something I can understand," Rachel says.

...

“So have your parents decided yet?”

“They’re still thinking,” Santana replies.

“Hey,” Rachel says. “If they say no, then I’ll just have to figure out something else special we can do.”

“Yeah, but—”

“All that matters, San,” Rachel interjects. “Is that we’re together. Right?”

“Yeah.”

...

“I can’t believe that we’re actually saying this,” Clara says, two nights later over dinner. “But if you want to spend the weekend at a cabin with Rachel, just the two of you, we're fine with it."

"As long as we have as much contact info as possible," Tomás adds.

“Seriously?” Santana asks. “Thank you so much, you guys.” Santana eyes them suspiciously. “Did Rachel call you?”

Tomás laughs. “Surprisingly, no. We decided without your girl’s influence.”

“We’re just so proud of you, Santana,” Clara says. “Getting into NYU with such a huge scholarship; that’s incredible.”

“It’s not that big of deal,” Santana mumbles.

“Considering that you wouldn’t even discuss college with us your sophomore year,” Tomás says. “I beg to differ.”

“Oh. Yeah,” Santana says. “I was more pissed off back then.”

“Oh, we know,” Tomás replies.

"Another reason we're agreeing," Clara says.

"Oh. Well. Thanks."

...

“Did you call my parents?” Santana asks.

“About?” Rachel questions.

“You know what,” Santana retorts.

“Obviously I don’t,” Rachel replies. “Or I wouldn’t have asked.”

“They told me at dinner that as long as we give them all sorts of contact information, that they're fine if the two of us go up to that cabin."

“Really? Wow,” Rachel replies. “I guess your request wasn’t as insane as I thought.”

“No,” Santana says. “I knew it was. That’s why I thought you called them. You are their favorite, after all.”

Rachel sighs. "You know that's not true. Just like you know how proud of you they are."

"I know."

"Considering you just got exactly what you wanted for your birthday, you seem rather dour," Rachel says.

"Just thinking..."

"About?"

"Have I told you how glad I am that you're going to be in New York too?" Santana asks.

"Umm..."

"I mean, Brittany is going to California and Q is heading to Chicago and I just... knowing that you and I will be together, kicking ass in New York makes it all seem a bit less daunting, you know?"

"I do know," Rachel says quietly.

There's so much significance and feeling in those three words that Santana wonders if she and Rachel are having the same conversation.

"I should go."

It's an abrupt mood shift, even for Rachel, but Santana doesn't feel ready to question it yet. "All right."

"I've fallen a bit behind and I'm only a week ahead of our homework schedule," Rachel continues. "I'll be much more relaxed this weekend, if I'm caught up again."

Santana chuckles. "Whatever you say, babe. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"You will indeed," Rachel says. "Night San."

Santana stares at her phone for a long moment after Rachel hangs up, but she can't figure out what exactly suddenly shifted for Rachel. Maybe her girlfriend will be more willing to talk about it this weekend.

…

“I can’t believe you’re abandoning me like this.”

“I’m spending one weekend away with my girlfriend on her birthday,” Rachel replies. “I’d hardly call that abandonment.’

“Our senior year is slipping away, bro,” Noah says. “We gotta take advantage.”

“Yeah, well, my days with Santana are numbered as well,” Rachel replies. “So I have to get in as much alone time with her as possible.”

“So you’re really going to do it?” Noah asks, looking upset.

“I don’t think I have a choice, Noah,” Rachel replies. “It can only end badly.”

“Yeah, maybe,” he says. “But for some reason, I feel like you’re over reacting.”

“I’m not so sure that I am,” Rachel says.

“The chances of ever getting her back seem slim to none,” Noah points out.

“Perhaps,” Rachel agrees. “But Rachel Berry has been known to buck the odds before.”

“Yeah, but this seems like a much bigger risk.”

“I know,” Rachel sighs.

“You’re still waffling,” Noah says.

“I can’t be one hundred percent on this,” Rachel tells him. “I always told myself that I would be, but now, I’m not sure that it’s possible.”

“It definitely isn’t,” Noah agrees.

“I still have time,” Rachel says.

“You say that like something’s magically going to happen that will suddenly convince you.”

“Anything’s possible,” Rachel shrugs.

"It's your life, bro."

...

When Brittany insists on coming home with Santana after school Thursday, Santana doesn’t really think much of it. However, the blonde is unusually giddy in the car, even for Brittany.

“Maybe you should cut back on the caffeine, Britt,” Santana tells her as they pull into the driveway.

“I’m just excited, S,” Brittany replies.

“I can see that, B,” Santana says. “I’m just not sure why.”

Brittany just smirks and bounces into the house.

Once they’re settled in Santana’s room, the blonde hands over a large, beautifully wrapped box.

“Um, where did this come from?” Santana asks.

“Me, silly,” Brittany replies. “It’s your birthday present.”

“Thanks,” Santana says. “But that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh.”

“How did this box fit in your not very big backpack?” Santana questions.

Brittany shrugs. “Are you going to open it?”

Santana lets herself get caught up in her best friend’s excitement and begins pulling off the paper. The first thing she sees is a small stack of scratch offs and lottery tickets. She sets them aside as she shoots Brittany a strange look. Under that are a couple boxes of cigarettes as well as several plastic lighters and a small bottle of lighter fluid. Santana shakes her head and sets them aside. Considering what she’s already pulled out, it comes as no surprise to find several porn magazines at the bottom of the box. She chuckles at the Playboy and Playgirl and then just sputters in disbelief at the final one that reads Big and Beardy.

“I thought you’d enjoy the variety,” Brittany grins.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the sentiment, B, because I do,” Santana says. “But since I’m legal, I can just go get all this stuff myself.”

“I know,” Brittany nods. “But I wanted you to know all your options.”

“Thanks.”

”Maybe you can trade the cigarettes for favors,” Brittany suggests.

“You’re thinking of prison, Britt.”

“Oh. Yeah,” Brittany says. “I guess watching women in prison movies before I go to sleep may be a little confusing.”

“Does Marisa know about your horrible late night viewing habits?” Santana asks, amused.

Brittany grins. “She turned bright red when she picked up the box the other day.”

Santana just shakes her head as Brittany grabs Big and Beardy up and begins flipping through it.

…

Dinner is a quiet affair, per usual. Quinn talks about her day and her mom talks about hers. It's not the perfect family dinner that she always pretended existed in her house, but it's a great deal more comfortable than family dinners used to be. What Quinn appreciates the most is that even if she or her mom doesn't have a lot to say, they can still just eat in peace and enjoy each other's presence.

"Any plans for the weekend, Quinnie?"

"Um, well, actually, sort of," Quinn replies.

"Sort of?"

"Well, it's been a while since I've seen Alyson," Quinn explains. "And so I was hoping I could maybe do that this weekend."

"You want to drive to Pittsburgh this weekend?"

"Actually, just Akron," Quinn replies. "It's about halfway in between. And then it's not much of a drive for either of us."

"I see."

"And if she visits here, she has to stay with Rachel Berry... which is..." Not sure how to finish that sentence, Quinn just shakes herself and continues. "And if I drive there, we have to worry about her roommate. So we figured meeting half way in between is the best solution."

"So you're going to drive to Akron and stay in a hotel for a weekend to meet up with your girlfriend?" her mom clarifies.

"Uh, yeah," Quinn replies. "It sounds a bit... sordid when you say it like that. But it's not. Really."

"Well Akron is certainly closer than Pittsburgh," her mom says. "And I did say that I would be fine with you driving to Pittsburgh, so it seems unfair for me to say you can't meet Alyson in Akron."

"So I can go?"

Her mom nods.

"Thanks mom," Quinn grins. "You're the best."

"Did you really think that I would say no?" her mom asks.

"I don't know," Quinn says. "I guess I'm still getting used to... you and me and being honest and all that."

"I'm just glad that you asked me, Quinnie," her mom replies.

"Me too."

…

Wanting to have as much of the weekend as possible, Rachel insists on leaving bright and early Friday morning. Santana grumbles a lot, but agrees since the issue of skipping school, for once, doesn't seem to be a concern for Rachel. She’d like to think that’s her influence. Rachel haughtily denies it and turns up the music.

…

Since Alyson's last class of the day ends at one, Quinn skips the last couple periods so she can leave a bit early and get there around the same time. It's her senior year and she's in the top ten of her class. If she wants to skip a couple classes, she should be able to. The best thing is that because she's a Cheerio, no one's going to question it.

...

After almost five hours, they stop by the grocery store, since it’s on the way there. They buy groceries, Santana arguing about everything Rachel puts in the cart because the indignant huff Rachel gives at Santana's protests is adorable.

As they check out, Santana idly wonders if she can convince Rachel to cook naked. Maybe they could spend the entire weekend naked; she hadn't been joking about that. It is her birthday, after all.

It's not much of a drive to the cabin and before Santana realizes it, they're pulling into the driveway of a property that is definitely not just a simple cabin. It looks bigger than her own house.

They leave their bags by the door and explore. Rachel insists they visit the kitchen first, setting their groceries on the counter and Santana convinces her that they can put things away after a quick tour of the house.

Santana still can't believe the size of this so called cabin.

This guy's house must be a freaking castle.

"Not quite," Rachel replies. "But it's close. I think it has its own zip code."

The first floor has a chef's wet dream of a kitchen, a gigantic TV in front of the comfiest looking couch ever with tons of DVDs shelved nearby.

There are two bedrooms and a bathroom that are quite nice. And then they find the master suite. It is a massive bedroom with a king size bed. The bathroom has a whirlpool bath tub and a large shower where the water rains down from the ceiling.

"Damn..." Santana mutters.

"Not bad, huh?" Rachel smirks.

"This is one of the best ideas you've ever had," Santana replies.

Rachel grins. "Happy birthday, Tiger."

Santana grins back. "Thanks babe."

They explore the basement next even though they have no intention of using it. There's an entertainment room and two more bedrooms, as well as another impressive bathroom.

"This TV is bigger," Santana observes.

"The one upstairs is seventy-five inches, San," Rachel replies. "You don't think that's big enough?"

Santana can only shrug.

...

Rachel refuses to cook naked, but with some pleading from Santana, she does agree to cook nude except for an apron that reads That's How I Roll under a picture of a rolling pin. It's better than the other option: The Grillfather.

"I hope you're not too disappointed, San," Rachel say as she stands at the stove.

"Nope," Santana replies as she chops vegetables. "I still get to stare at your ass, which, as you know, is one of my favorite things to stare at."

"Santana," Rachel huffs.

Santana just grins and returns to her chopping.

...

Santana is in love with the shower. She and Rachel spend over an hour under the spray until the cold water drives them away.

"When you become rich and famous," Santana says as they dry off. "You are buying us one of these."

"Why is it my responsibility?" Rachel questions. "Aren't you going to become a rich and powerful attorney?"

"You'll be famous before I become powerful," Santana replies.

"Flattery? Really?" Rachel asks.

Grinning, Santana shakes her head. "Hey I was serious when I said that we're doing it everywhere we can here. It is my birthday, right?"

Rachel rolls her eyes. "If you don't stop throwing that in my face..."

"You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I?"

"Fine," Santana says. "But only because you cooked my favorite, nearly nude."

"You're acting like seeing me naked is a novel concept," Rachel retorts.

Santana shrugs. "I've said it before and I'll say it again, you're hot. You should never wear clothes."

"Considering we live in Ohio, that sounds rather cold," Rachel replies.

"I'd keep you warm," Santana smirks.

Rachel rolls her eyes.

…

Santana wakes up on her back with Rachel on top of her and it feels like the perfect moment. Inhaling the faint, familiar scent of Rachel’s shampoo, Santana tries to imprint this moment in her mind. As the end of the school year approaches, Santana knows that she probably won’t have many more moments like this with her girlfriend and there will definitely be fewer moments of alone time. Sure, they’ll have the summer together, but Santana knows that Rachel will still be just as busy with her various classes as well as preparing for New York.

Santana’s heart speeds up a bit. She’s nervous; she can admit that to herself, at least. While she’s excited for her and Rachel to take New York by storm, she’s also well aware of the difficulties that come from transition a high school relationship into college. And while they’ll definitely be in the same city, they’ll both be very busy. But Santana knows that their relationship is up to the challenge. At least she hopes it is. She can’t lose this, she tells herself as she tightens her arms around the still slumbering Rachel.

“I love you,” Santana whispers.

“Love you too,” a still sleeping Rachel mumbles back.

…

They stay in bed later than usual and then they spend the rest of the morning in the Jacuzzi tub. Even if they’re basically doing what they do every weekend together, their surroundings make it seem special. It really is the perfect birthday. It makes Santana feel like a bit of sap, thinking that. But she’s unapologetically in love; if she wants to spend her eighteenth birthday, naked with her super hot girlfriend, then she should be able to.

…

The drive back to Lima is filled with a comfortable silence that still sometimes surprises Santana. It's been a perfect birthday weekend, which also surprises her a bit, even though she knows that being with Rachel and becoming the person she is, who is incredibly different from pre glee Santana, have made it possible to enjoy things that she would have scoffed at years before. It's definitely a good thing; Santana isn't sure that she liked the person she'd been turning into. Especially since that person wouldn't have enjoyed a silent, yet content car ride with Rachel Berry.

Santana's hand finds Rachel's knee and idly traces patterns on it. Rachel keeps her eyes on the road, but smiles.

"Happy?"

"Course, babe," Santana replies. "I got exactly what I wanted for my birthday."

"Good."

"You're spoiling me," Santana continues.

"How so?"

"My last two birthdays have been exactly what I wanted," Santana explains. "You're setting quite a precedent."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Rachel says.

"Hey, I'm not complaining," Santana replies. "I'm just saying."

"You better not be complaining," Rachel teases. "Or I'll take it all back."

Santana laughs. "How? As far as I know, Artie hasn't built a time machine yet."

"Give him time," Rachel retorts. "I'm sure he'll figure something out."

"Then I look forward to it," Santana says. "I can think of nothing but possibilities.

"God," Rachel groans. "How is it possible for you to make everything sound dirty?"

"Multi talented," Santana answers. "Remember?"

"Oh, I definitely remember," Rachel purrs.

"Good."

"All right then."

Santana sighs. "You don't always have to have the last word, you know."

"Yes I do."

Santana growls, but doesn't really comment.

fic: A Cruel and Vengeful God

2013-06-24T03:02:31Z

Title: A Cruel and Vengeful God
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, Brittany/Marisa, Puck, Mike, Quinn, Kat, Figgins
Rating: PG-13
Summary: "I can't believe someone is stealing my prank ideas and ruining them."
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~4,230
Spoilers: previous stories
A/N: Follows Agree to Disagree
2nd A/N: Don't get used to this regular update schedule. It's only because I had no electricity yesterday and spent the day writing this out on a legal pad. Which probably says a lot about my productivity in relation to the amount of technology in the room, but that's a discussion for another day.
3rd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.

series masterlist

The moment Rachel steps into McKinley Wednesday morning, she's pulled into Figgins' office.

"Ms. Berry," Figgins greets. "I think I may have overestimated you."

"All right."

"I thought you were an intelligent young woman," Figgins continues.

"And now you don't?" Rachel questions.

"I just don't understand why you would continue to pull pranks," Figgins tells her. "Coach Sylvester's... interference will be no help to you this time. I cannot let this go on without a much more severe punishment."

"Since I haven't pulled any pranks, I'm going to have to protest that," Rachel replies.

"You really expect me to believe that?"

"No," Rachel tells him. "So why don't you tell me about this prank that you think I've pulled."

"Not completely stupid then," Figgins says. "Apparently the diving board was removed and tossed into the swimming pool. It has "Save Me" spray painted on it."

"Well, that definitely wasn't me," Rachel says.

"And why should I believe you?"

"Because I pulled that prank last year and I don't repeat pranks."

Figgins is skeptical. "You don't?"

Rachel shakes her head. "Someone is trying to set me up."

"Surely you don't believe that Ms. Berry."

"Well then someone just wants to pull pranks, but can't think of their own," Rachel says. "Because I didn't do it, Principal Figgins."

Figgins studies Rachel for a few moments and she tries to continue her confident, yet innocent stare.

"I'll believe you for now, Ms. Berry," Figgins says. "But I'll be watching you."

"I am fully aware sir," Rachel says standing.

…

"I'm just appalled by the entire situation."

Santana watches in amusement as Rachel paces in front of her. She had just opened her locker, when Rachel grabbed her wrist and began dragging her down the hall. Thankfully, Santana was able to slam her locker door shut before being dragged into the choir room. Her girlfriend then sat her down and began to pace as she recounted her meeting with Figgins.

"At least he believed you," Santana says. "Sort of."

"That's not what I'm talking about," Rachel replies. "I can't believe someone is stealing my prank ideas and ruining them."

"How is the prank ruined?" Santana asks. "It's like one of the simplest ones you did."

"Yes," Rachel agrees. "Which is what makes it so appalling. I wrote, "I'm drowning" on the diving board. This pathetic substitute wrote, "Save me", which is completely different."

"Maybe it was a homage," Santana suggests.

"Then it was a horrible one," Rachel retorts. "I'm completely insulted."

"Babe, you don't think that you're taking this a little too seriously?"

"I take pride in everything I do, Santana," Rachel replies. "And this school is no longer allowed to... take a crap on my achievements."

"Fair enough," Santana says. "Do you want me to kick someone's ass?"

"Very tempting," Rachel replies. "But not yet."

…

Concerned that someone may be out to get Rachel, Santana seeks out Brittany. She pulls the blonde into the Cheerios’ locker room because it’s unlikely that they’ll be overheard.

“I think someone’s trying to screw over Rachy,” Brittany says before Santana can even begin.

Of course Brittany would already know.

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Santana replies.

“Why else would they be pulling pranks that Rachel’s already done?”

“Because they’re too stupid to think of their own?” Santana offers.

“Well that is a definite possibility,” Brittany agrees. “We’re doing something about this, right?”

Santana nods. “Though you might have to be the information gatherer. For some reason, people are reluctant to talk to me.”

“I don’t mind,” Brittany replies. “Anything for Rachel.”

…

To Santana's dismay, she hears all sorts of craziness about the so called copycat; what's surprisingly is that everyone seems to know it wasn't Rachel. Santana supposes she shouldn't be so surprised that her classmates know better than the administration.

"Do you think it's a wanna be or someone trying to fuck with my bro?" Puck asks Santana in second period.

"Probably someone going after Rach," Santana replies.

"I'm so kicking their ass," Puck growls.

"Down boy," Santana says. "We gotta find them first."

"How?"

"B's working on it."

"Oh. Good."

…

To Brittany's surprise, no one she talks to seems to know anything about the copycat. Is it possible that people at McKinley can actually keep a secret?

Changing tactics, Brittany makes a mental list of the possible suspects. She decides to investigate them because unlike Santana, people are still willing to talk to her. Another reason to be glad for her dumb blonde routine.

…

Santana feels bad that she's letting Britt handle finding out who the copycat prankster is. As Rachel's girlfriend, she kind of likes the idea of being able to save the day. Probably because Rachel is so self sufficient. Santana just wants things to be easier for her, which is why she's going to take care of it, no matter what it takes.

…

Thursday morning, the teachers come in to find all the furniture in the teacher's lounge nailed to the ceiling.

Figgins is enraged.

…

"I'm surprised Figgins didn't pull you into his office this morning," Puck says when he finds Rachel at her locker.

"Why is that?"

"Apparently the copycat struck again," Puck replies. "Stole one of my ideas this time."

"You mean your only idea?"

"Hey!"

Rachel sighs. "So now I have to worry about finding out who's behind—"

"Actually, bro," Puck interjects. "I think you should let me, Lopez and Britt handle this."

"Why?"

"Hey, we can take care of stuff," Puck defends.

"I didn't mean it like that," Rachel replies. "Though the last time you 'took care of stuff', I had to worry about you three being arrested."

"Yeah, but this time we—"

"Noah," Rachel says. "Please don't make promises you can't keep." She closes her locker slowly. "Fine. I'll stay out of it, for now. But be careful. I have very little leverage left to save you guys if need be."

"You don't always have to be the one saving people, Rach," Puck replies. "Let us do this for you. Okay?"

Rachel nods.

"Good. Now I'm walking you to class."

"Thank you, Noah."

…

The biggest problem with what Brittany finds out is what to do with the information. The take down and avenging will have to be perfect. Not only to make a statement, but also because no one crosses Santana Lopez without consequences. And going after her girlfriend is even worse. So whatever Santana does, it has to be big.

…

"You're awfully quiet," Rachel says as Santana drives her home after glee.

"Sorry."

"You might as well just tell me," Rachel says.

"Tell you what?"

"Whatever is weighing so heavily on your mind. It'll make for a more pleasant evening, wouldn't you agree?"

Santana sighs. "Don't be mad."

"Good start," Rachel says, rolling her eyes.

"Look," Santana starts. "I know you said you didn't want me to do anything about the copycat prankster, but after this morning, I have no choice."

"San..."

"I have to Rach," Santana replies. "It's not even completely about you, babe. By going after you, they're going after me too."

"And we can't have that, can we? Even though we're almost done with this place, you still can't handle not being top dog for one second?"

"No, I can't," Santana says. "Because if I'm not, then you get slushied. Or worse. And I promised you that you'd never be slushied again right?"

"Which I appreciate."

Santana pulls into Rachel's driveway and turns off the car. "I'm sorry. But I have to take care of this. Which means we won't be spending Saturday together. I need to figure this out and take care of this weekend."

Rachel studies Santana for a moment. "You already know who it is, don't you?"

Santana nods.

"And you're not going to tell me, are you?"

Santana shakes her head.

"Noah requested that I stay out of it, this morning, but I didn't really think he had anything. I should have know that you... Brittany found out, didn't she?"

Santana nods again. "I know you like to take care of these sort of things yourself, and I totally understand it. But I have to do this, babe. Please let me."

"Fine. I'll find something else to do on Saturday. But I'm not bailing you guys out of jail, so try not to get caught okay?"

Santana grins.

"What?"

"I remember a time that you would have told me not to do anything illegal, instead of telling me not to get caught."

"So you're saying my daddy's right?" Rachel questions. "You are a bad influence?"

"Now you're just trying to pick a fight."

"We're at least hanging out, tonight, like usual, right?"

Santana nods and quickly jumps out of the car. Before Rachel has her seatbelt off, Santana is on the other side, opening her door for her.

"M'lady."

Rachel can't help but giggle as she takes Santana's offered arm. Rachel can't really be mad at Santana; she knows why her girlfriend is doing all this and since Santana supported Rachel's need to keep pulling insane pranks until she got caught, Rachel should respect Santana's need to defend her position in the McKinley hierarchy.

…

Friday morning, the students of McKinley arrive to find a bright, neon pink stripe running down the hall. The janitors have already started working on removing it, but unlike the one that Rachel and Brittany created, this one is huge, at least a foot wide, though not terribly straight. It also just goes down every hallway; it's almost like whoever painted it, just wanted a stripe running down each hall. No one follows it, though everyone tries to make a friend follow it. Instead, it mostly gets ignored.

…

Rachel ends up hanging out with Mike Friday night. It's nice. She's been so busy lately, that she hasn't had time to really hang out with him.

"Aren't you worried about the rumors that will start when people see us together?" Mike asks as they stand in line for a movie.

"Aren't you worried that Santana will kick your ass for taking me out?" Rachel counters.

Mike shakes his head. "You'll protect me."

Rachel smirks. "You always seem to have the right answer."

…

When Santana hears that one of the hockey players is having a party Saturday night, she knows that's where she'll confront the copycat prankster. She, Brittany and Puck spend Friday night planning it out. It helps that Puck's actually been to Bester's house, so he kind of knows the layout. As Santana hands out jobs and sketches out a plan, she wonders if this is how Rachel felt as she was planning pranks. If so, then Santana definitely understand why her girl kept going until she was caught.

…

Since Santana apparently needed an entire day to plan her revenge, Rachel decides to spend Saturday with Kat. As she drives over to the Tyler house, Rachel decides it's actually a good thing that Santana has other plans. Rachel feels like she's let Kat down, not being around as much lately. The prankster thing was really quite time consuming.

…

Puck doesn't understand why having a truck means he has to go find the rotten fruit. Yes, it will be nice to not have it actually inside the truck with him, but it's not like Santana or Brittany's cars don't have trunks. And honestly, it'd probably be safer since his truck's shocks are almost shot. He cringes as he hits a pot hole and a few apples jump out of the truck bed and roll down the street. He wonders if that counts as littering. And then he wonders when he started caring about crap like that.

…

Since Brittany is with Santana, Marisa calls Rachel up and asks to hang out. Kat says she doesn't mind, so Rachel tells Marisa to come over and bring something to do. They then call up Kat's mom and ask if Kat can spend the night. When Mrs. Tyler agrees, Rachel drives Kat back home to pack a bag.

…

"This is better than that time we sought vengeance on Jesse St. James," Brittany says.

They're currently leaning against Puck's truck, watching the party at Bester's house. They're watching to make sure their target arrives, but are also waiting for just the right moment to strike.

"Considering that you were the one that chloroformed him," Puck says. "I pretty sure it was you who was seeking vengeance."

"Like you didn't help out Fuckerman," Santana quips.

"Do I even want to know what you guys are talking about?" Mike asks.

"It's probably safer if you don't," Brittany tells him.

"I still don't see why we had to make this a foursome," Puck grouses.

"That would be totally hot," Brittany says.

"I think part of the story was left out when you explained tonight to me, Britt," Mike says.

"Ignore him," Santana tells Mike. "He gets cranky if he thinks someone is encroaching on his territory."

"What?"

"Pucky is mad because he wants to be Rachy's sole savior and he can't be," Brittany explains.

"Oh. Okay."

…

For some reason, Marisa seems to think that Rachel will be able to explain how to play 3-D chess better than Brittany did. She can't. But Kat is so intrigued by it, that they spend the evening googling the rules and how to play in an attempt to teach Kat.

…

They wait until the party at Bester's is in full swing.

"Now you're sure that you saw them go inside and not come out, B?" Santana asks.

"Course, S," Brittany replies. "This is important. I'm not going to fuck it up."

"Right," Santana nods. "Of course. Sorry." She turns to Mike and Puck. "So Mike's going after Bender and Puck is going to get Willis. Right?"

They both nod.

"And then Britt and I will get set up in the backyard," Santana continues. "You got everything, B?"

Brittany nods as she throws the duffel bag onto her shoulder.

"Good," Santana says. "Then let's do this."

…

"Sorry about tonight."

Marisa half glances to her right at Rachel.

"What for?"

Rachel tries not to shrug since Kat is leaning against her right shoulder, asleep. "Britt's busy tonight because of me."

"Or because of Santana."

"Still my fault, though."

"Not necessarily," Marisa replies. "They're like beyond best friends. Sooner or later it was bound to happen."

"What?"

"Santana dragging Brittany off for some weird adventure."

"I suppose that's true."

"Besides, it's been a while since we've hung out," Marisa continues.

"Yeah, but I was already hanging out with Kat," Rachel points out.

"And now she's asleep," Marisa replies. "It's fine, Rachel. You worry too much."

…

The backyard is almost exactly as Puck described it and Santana is impressed with his drunken memory. They find the spot in the corner of the yard that has a picnic table in it and begin setting up. The two of them push it so it's standing on one end and then brace it at the top with the two by fours they brought. Brittany pulls out the rope and begins cutting pieces. Santana uses the first few pieces to tie the two by fours to the bench and then places two more smaller two by fours at the bottom of the braces so they don't slide around. She then begins tying the braces to the picnic table, using slip knots for ease.

By the time Mike appears leading a very drunk Shane Bender out into the yard, they're ready.

Bender is pretty drunk, so it doesn't take much to convince him that this is going to end differently and make him compliant enough to let them tie him to the picnic table.

Puck drags Willis outside a few minutes later and he fights back a bit, so Brittany pulls out the chloroform.

"Why'd you bring that?" Puck hisses.

"Because we needed it. Obviously," Brittany replies.

"Shut up, you two and help us," Santana orders.

They both stop glaring at each other and help Santana and Mike tie Jason Willis to the picnic table next to Bender.

Once everything's set up, Puck and Mike run back to the truck for the rotten fruit while Santana pulls out a bullhorn and begins shouting.

"Come one, come all and experience more fun than a barrel of monkeys!"

Brittany blows an air horn that appeared out of nowhere.

"Britt," Santana hisses, covering her left ear. "A little warning, next time?"

"Sorry, S."

…

Quinn really doesn't want to be at this party, but as the Cheerio captain she has to at least make an appearance. She fights the urge to roll her eyes at everyone in the room, when she hears Santana Lopez on a bullhorn outside.

Well this party just got a little more interesting.

…

Once there's enough of a crowd, Santana begins addressing the crowd.

"I know I don't have to introduce myself, but just in case, I'm Santana Lopez. As I'm sure all of you know, I've been dating Rachel Berry for the last two years. And I'm also sure that all of you know that last week, Rachel was outed as the prankster who has been terrorizing the administration these past couple years.

"However, in an obvious fit of insanity, someone decided to copy some of her easier pranks this past week. I presume to get my girl in more trouble with Figgins.

"This is unacceptable. After some investigation by Brittany, we've found the culprits." Santana steps aside and everyone notices Bender and Willis tied to the picnic table. "It seems these boys were upset that their buddy, Sanderson was treated harshly for a whole five minutes this past week and tried to retaliate. It's too bad that they went after the wrong person.

"Sure, I could just kick their asses, but where's the fun in that?" Santana asks. "So instead, I thought we could all join in the process of punishing the guilty party."

Someone calls out, "How?!" Santana is pretty sure that it's Quinn.

"Well I'm glad that you asked," Santana replies. "I just happened to find all this rotten fruit."

Puck and Mike push forward two large trolleys full of fruit boxes.

"And I figure the best way to dispose of it all is to throw it."

"Why?!" someone calls out.

"Why not," Santana retorts. "No one has to participate, of course. I just thought it would be fun. But if it helps, just imagine it's someone else you've always wanted to throw fruit at. Figgins. One of your teachers. Whoever." Santana pauses for a moment. "Come on, who's first?"

No one moves, though it's obvious that someone's pushing their way through the crowd. A moment later, Quinn Fabray holds out her hand. Grinning, Santana places a tomato in her palm.

"Captain," Santana salutes. "You get the first shot."

"Thank you Santana," Quinn replies. "I thought for sure, you'd want to take it."

Santana's grin becomes a bit sinister as she says, "Don't worry, I have my own version of justice for them."

"You're really kind of scary right now, Lopez."

"Just throw the fruit, Fabray."

…

Rachel ends up putting Kat in her dads' bed because she feels weird putting her in the guest room. Even though the sheets have been changed, it still feels weird putting her in the same bed that her older sister most likely had sex in.

"What do you think they're doing?" Marisa asks when Rachel joins her on the couch.

"Knowing Santana," Rachel says. "Something humiliating."

"She's defending your honor," Marisa says. "It's nice."

"I just can't believe that I didn't consider the fact that some of our peers would want to retaliate against me," Rachel sighs.

"Considering how many balls you were juggling, it seems understandable that you'd overlook something."

…

It takes a bit of coaxing, but their drunken classmates eventually give in and begin hurling the rotten fruit at the picnic table. There's also alcohol thrown, but thankfully only in red plastic cups. For whatever reason, there appears to be absolutely no bottles or cans at this party and for that, Santana is eternally grateful, because taking these two douche bags to the hospital was not part of the plan.

Once people have run out of things to throw and become bored, they begin shuffling back inside to drink more. Mike locates the hose and turns it. He sprays all the fruit and beer off Bender and Willis before Puck and Santana untie them.

They then lower the picnic table back into place and toss everything back into the duffel bag. They leave Bender and Willis half leaning against it, dripping wet, drunk and sore, smelling of fruit and beer.

"I can't believe you're going to leave them like that," Quinn says.

"Don't worry, Q," Brittany replies. "We're not."

Santana pulls out a couple boxes of baking soda and hands one to Brittany. They rip open the boxes and then precede to cover Bender and Willis with it. Because they're still soaked, it sticks easily.

"Okay, that's... weird."

"Don't worry, that's not all," Santana warns.

"I'm not sure, worried, is what I am," Quinn retorts.

Next Brittany pulls out two tins of Altoids. Quinn watches in amusement as she empties one tin down Bender's pants and then the other down Willis'. However, she's definitely not laughing when Santana pulls out two bottles of soda and hands one to Brittany. They each twist off the top and then shove the mouth of the bottle down Willis and Bender's pants.

While Quinn is watching Willis and Bender suffer through that, though they're both drunk enough that they probably don't completely feel it, Santana continues to dig through the duffel bag.

"What else could you possibly do to them?"

Santana grins as she pulls out a bottle of glue.

"Seriously?"

Santana nods and then places pours thick amounts of glue onto each of their palms and then presses their hands together. Brittany then hands her two long strips of duct table and Santana tapes their hands together.

"There," Santana says, standing. "That should be good."

"You are unbelievable," Quinn comments.

"A cruel and vengeful god, that's for sure," Puck adds.

"Yeah, seriously, Santana," Mike says. "I can't tell who I'm more afraid of, you or Rach."

"You say the nicest things, Mikey."

…

Not wanting to make Marisa uncomfortable, Rachel offers to sleep on the floor. Marisa counters that since it's Rachel's room, Marisa should be the one to sleep on the floor.

"Or we could share the bed?" Rachel offers. "It's big enough."

"Really? Are you sure?" Marisa asks.

Rachel nods. "Are you?"

Taking a moment to consider the situation, her old feelings verse what she currently feels for Rachel, Marisa nods.

"Okay," Rachel says, with a soft smile. "I'm glad that's settled then."

…

Santana considers heading over to Rachel's since it's not quite midnight, but decides against it. Once Puck drops her and B off at Britt's house, the exhaustion hits her.

"Can I crash here?" she asks Brittany.

"Of course," the blonde replies.

…

Marisa knows she should probably be mad to find Santana and Brittany in bed, curled up together, but she's not. Even more than she trusts Brittany, Marisa trust that Santana wouldn't do that to Rachel.

Still it was a bit of a shock to walk into her girlfriend's room and find her wrapped around someone else, so Marisa decides a bit of fun is in order. She slowly backs out of the room and calls Rachel, who thankfully is only a block away.

As she waits for Rachel, Marisa worries that maybe she's overstepping some boundaries, but decides against it since Rachel was heading over to the Lopez house to see Santana anyway.

Marisa meets Rachel at the front door and explains the situation upstairs. Rachel grins and Marisa follows her up the stairs to Brittany's room.

…

After checking that Brittany's parents are indeed gone and that she won't be waking anyone else up, Rachel bursts into Brittany's room.

"What the hell?!"

Both Santana and Brittany sit up and blink at an irate looking Rachel Berry.

Hands on her hips, Rachel taps her foot on the ground. "Well?"

Brittany waves. "Hi Rachy."

"What?" Santana questions. "It's Britt."

"Well that back fired," Rachel tells Marisa. "Guess I should have just gone with the bucket of water, huh?"

Marisa shrugs.

"You guys are up early," Brittany says.

"No reason to stay in bed," Rachel replies.

Brittany smirks and beckons Marisa over.

Santana, in turn, climbs out of bed and begins looking for her shoes.

"See you guys later?" Rachel says as she dragged out of the room by Santana.

…

On Monday, at school, everyone gives Rachel a wide berth. It makes her wonder if Santana went too far on Saturday night. Rachel understands why she did what she did; her girlfriend is a student of the 'go big or go home' philosophy. And Rachel usually follows a similar line of thought. She just wishes she wasn't back to feeling like a leaper.

Oh well, at least they're not throwing slushies, Rachel thinks. It reminds her that things could be worse; plus in six months, she'll be heading to New York.

Rachel lets those thoughts comfort her as she strolls down the hall towards her locker.

fic: Agree to Disagree - part two

2013-06-11T02:36:38Z

Title: Agree to Disagree - part two
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, Brittany/Marisa, Puck, Coach Sylvester, Mike/Wendy, Artie, Quinn, Tina, Kurt, Mercedes, Finn, Figgins, Becky, Tomás Lopez, Clara, Lopez, Rachel's dads
Rating: light R
Summary: A group prank is planned.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~16,100
Spoilers: just previous parts of this series
A/N: Follows A Good Day
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.

Part Two

Santana’s cell phone vibrates right before lunch.

Things are mostly worked out. I’m going home to talk with daddy. I will call you later.

It’s vague, but calm, so Santana tries not to let her worry grow. Though, honestly, Santana’s more worried about how the talk with Michael’s going to go. Even though he unsuccessfully tried to keep them apart last year, that doesn’t mean that he won’t attempt something similar again.

…

When Kurt sits down to lunch, he eagerly looks around for the others. The rumors are flying about the Prankster and he wants to compare notes.

“Did you hear?” Mercedes asks as she sits across from Kurt.

“Rumors are flying, though, so nothing solid.”

Mercedes nods. “No one knows for sure yet, who the prankster is.”

“We’ll just have to wait and see who’s suspended,” Kurt says.

“Hey guys,” Artie says as he joins them.

“Did you hear?” Kurt asks. “Figgins finally caught the Prankster.

“Yeah,” Artie replies. “I, uh, heard.”

“Who do you think it is?” Mercedes asks.

“Uh…”

“Hey guys,” Mike says, sitting next to Kurt.

“Mike. Wendy.”

The Cheerio just nods as she sits.

“Hear anything about the Prankster?” Kurt asks them.

Wendy smirks, but keeps her head down, which catches Kurt’s attention.

“What do you know?” he asks her.

She looks at him in surprise. “I’ve heard various stuff floating around. Who knows if it’s true or not?”

“Someone has to know,” Kurt says.

The table’s quiet when Quinn sits down next to Mercedes.

“So Berry finally got busted for being the prankster, huh?”

Kurt and Mercedes stare at Quinn in shock as Artie groans and Mike smirks.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt manages. “Could you repeat that?”

Quinn looks towards Mike and Artie. “I mean, she was caught. So, it’s not a secret anymore, right?”

“Huh,” Kurt murmurs.

Artie shakes his head.

“You knew?” Mercedes asks.

Quinn nods. “Kinda just happened.”

“Huh,” Kurt mutters.

“You knew and you didn’t tell me?” Mercedes questions.

“Wasn’t my secret to tell.”

“When has that ever stopped any of us?” Mercedes asks.

Mike laughs.

“And risk Santana’s wrath?” Quinn replies. “No thank you.”

“You really expect me to believe that Rachel Berry is the Prankster?” Kurt questions. “The Prankster that’s been pulling things at McKinley for almost two years?”

“Yep,” Wendy giggles.

“Wait a minute,” Mercedes says, turning to Wendy. “You knew?”

Wendy nods.

"Someone pinch me," Kurt says. "Because I'm obviously not awake."

Mike reaches over, but is stopped by Kurt.

"It was a figure of speech."

"So you all knew?" Mercedes clarifies.

"Yep," Quinn replies.

"Anyone else?"

"A few others," Mike answers.

"Santana, of course," Kurt says, thinking out loud. "I'm assuming probably Puck and Brittany.

Artie nods.

"Anyone else?" Kurt asks.

"Just Tina," Artie says.

"And Coach Sylvester," Quinn offers.

"This must be what going crazy feels like," Kurt mumbles to himself.

"Yeah, I was a bit surprised too," Quinn agrees.

“I mean, I guess it makes sense,” Kurt murmurs to himself. “Santana and Puck are a bad influence.”

“This is all my fault,” Artie says.

“How is this your fault?” Mercedes asks.

“Because pulling a group prank was my idea.”

“You guys pulled a group prank?” Kurt asks.

“Well, we got caught before we could finish,” Mike says.

“I think I need to go lay down.”

“You’re being a bit melodramatic, don’t you think, Kurt?” Quinn asks.

“I just can’t believe that Finn was right,” Kurt retorts.

Everyone, but Wendy groans.

“He’s going to be insufferable now, isn’t he?” Artie questions.

“Probably,” Quinn agrees.

“Why do you guys all know?” Mercedes asks. “And not Kurt or me?”

“I guessed,” Mike says.

“Me too,” Artie adds.

“Artie told me on accident,” Quinn says.”

“Me too,” Wendy throws out.

“I wonder where Puck and Santana are,” Mercedes says. “I have so many questions.”

“God, Lopez is going to be so annoying without Berry around,” Quinn groans.

“As long as Britt’s around,” Mike says. “It should be fine.”

“I hope so.”

…

“So why are we hiding again?” Marisa asks.

“We’re not hiding,” Santana grumbles. “I just don’t feel like being around those morons.”

Brittany nods.

“Yeah,” Puck adds. “Hummel would be all over us, asking about Rach being the prankster.”

“So?”

“I’m just not in the mood.”

“Do you think Rachel is okay?” Marisa asks.

“I’m sure she’s in deep shit with her dads,” Puck replies.

“I was afraid that Figgins was going to make Rachel pay the school back,” Brittany says. “You know, cause all the pranks needed undoing.”

“I think his joy over catching the prankster probably distracted him from that,” Puck replies.

…

Over a simple lunch of sandwiches and fruit, Rachel and her daddy, sit in silence and avoid eye contact. Rachel knows a lecture and most likely yelling will eventually happen and she’s grateful that they’re eating first. Arguing is easier with proper nutrition.

They clean up in silence as well; which only takes a few moments, but the tension in the air is thick.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t ground you until graduation,” Michael says as they sit back down at the table.

“How would you enforce it?” Rachel questions.

“I feel like the flippancy is still present.”

“I’m just not sure why you’d be punishing me,” Rachel replies. “I know you have no problem with the occasional juvenile hijinks.”

“You call pulling over fifty pranks, juvenile hijinks?” Michael asks.

“Yes.”

Michael examines her for a moment. “And I suppose that Santana has nothing to do with this? At all?”

Rachel shakes her head. “Not if you’re trying to pin the blame on her.”

“She’s a bad influence over you,” Michael insists.

“I respectfully disagree.”

“You’ve been suspended for five days!”

“Which is not Santana’s fault,” Rachel replies.

“You really expect me to believe that Santana isn’t the reason you started all this?” Michael questions.

“Yes,” Rachel says. “Besides, this has been going on for two years. Do you really think she’s been pushing me this entire time?”

“Maybe not,” Michael replies. “But I don’t doubt that she planted the idea in your head and then encouraged you for the past two years.”

“Why are you so unwilling to place the blame solely on me?” Rachel asks. “Because no matter whose idea it was initially, it was me who came up with the idea of spraying slushies from the school sprinklers or flour bombing the teachers."

Michael stares at her.

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe I enjoyed the challenge?” Rachel questions. “That maybe there’s a reason behind my motivation?”

“You mean besides arrogance?”

“I knew I’d be caught eventually,” Rachel replies.

“And yet, you kept pulling pranks,” Michael says.

“How else are people going to know it’s me?” Rachel counters.

“Oh, so now you wanted to get caught?”

Rachel nods. “Otherwise no one would believe it.”

Michael can only stare at her in disbelief.

…

When Quinn finds Brittany at her locker at the end of the day, Santana is not by her side like Quinn expected.

“Lopez in the bathroom crying over Berry?”

Marisa, who Quinn hadn’t seen right away, looks pained at Quinn’s comment.

“She went to check on Rach,” Brittany replies.

“I’m sure Berry’s fine,” Quinn says.

“Santana just wants to make sure.”

There’s a tone in Brittany’s voice that Quinn doesn’t want to analyze. “So surprisingly I haven’t heard Berry’s name whispered throughout the halls.”

“I don’t think that many people know yet,” Marisa says.

“I told Kurt and Mercedes at lunch,” Quinn replies. “I thought for sure that that would get the rumors flying.”

“They were probably in too much shock,” Marisa says.

“I don’t meant to sound rude, Quinn,” Brittany says. “But why would you tell them?”

“Because they were talking about it at lunch,” Quinn replies. “What’s the big deal?”

Brittany shrugs. “If Figgins wanted to keep things quiet, he could react harshly if he thinks Rachel’s out here bragging.”

“Well then he’s an idiot, since she’s not even here today.”

…

When the doorbell rings, Rachel lets out a sigh of relief. It feels like she’s been arguing with her daddy about this for hours.

Rachel’s surprised to find Santana at the door. It must be later than she thought.

“Please tell me that you didn’t skip,” Rachel says.

Santana shakes her head. “But I am skipping Cheerios.”

“I’m not sure now is the best time,” Rachel says.

“I wanted to make sure you’re okay,” Santana replies.

“Daddy and I are still talking,” Rachel informs her.

“Seriously? Still?”

“Who’s at the door, Rachel?”

“You should go,” Rachel hisses.

“Of course.”

Both Santana and Rachel turn to find Michael standing behind Rachel.

“I should have known that you’d show up eventually,” he says.

“I just wanted to make sure Rach is okay, sir,” Santana replies.

“She’s fine, considering that this is all your fault.”

“Daddy,” Rachel says. “I told you. Santana—”

“I don’t want to hear it, Rachel.”

“Then we seem to me at an impasse, daddy,” Rachel replies. “We’ve been arguing in circles for two hours.”

“We wouldn’t have this problem if you would just realize that she’s dragging you down, Rach.”

“I don’t know how many times I have to say this, daddy,” Rachel replies. “But Santana is not the problem.”

Michael just stares at them both for a long moment before saying,” Fine. You’re right. Neither of us will ever bend on this. We should just agree to disagree.”

“Works for me.”

“And,” Michael continues. “Maybe I should stop trying to parent you.”

“What?”

“Last year when you refused my advice—”

“You mean, your demand?" Rachel interrupts.

“I said I was done then,” Michael continues. “But I thought suspension was serious enough to warrant my involvement. Apparently not.”

“Daddy…”

“We’re never going to see eye to eye on this,” Michael says. “I think your dad should be the main contact from now on. It’s probably better for all of us.”

Rachel can only nod.

“I’ll be in my office,” he says. “Though I must say I am surprised that Santana is still around.”

“Maybe you could finally start to believe in our relationship,” Rachel says.

“Hardly,” Michael replies. “I simply meant that I was impressed that Santana has been able to keep the lie up.”

Rachel's response is interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. Surprisingly, Michael is the one who answers it.

“Can I help you?”

“Uh, is Rachel here?”

“Just a moment.” Michael turns to Rachel. “I’ll be in the study.”

Rachel nods as she approaches the door.

“Hey Rach,” Artie greets. “I was worried that you wouldn’t be allowed visitors.”

“Apparently not,” Rachel replies.

“Look Rachel,” Artie starts. “I wanted to apologize. I feel like this is all my fault.”

Standing behind Rachel, Santana scoffs.

“While I appreciate that Artie,” Rachel replies. “I personally don’t feel like that’s true.”

“If we hadn’t done a big group prank—”

“Artie,” Rachel interrupts. “I knew the risks.”

“And the fact that you took all the blame,” Artie continues.

“And all the glory,” Santana offers.

“Either way,” Rachel says. “Everything worked out.”

“But you’re suspended.”

“Better than expelled,” Rachel points out.

“You really don’t blame me?” Artie asks. “Because I don’t want to get on your bad side.”

Rachel chuckles. “I’m sure. But I appreciate the sentiment.”

“It’s self preservation, babe,” Santana quips.

“So what happened exactly?” Artie asks.

“I’m suspended,” Rachel replies. “The rest of the week.”

“Ouch.”

“She seems okay with it,” Santana says.

“While I don’t relish missing so much school, I’m not worried,” Rachel replies.

“Plus it’s probably better this way,” Santana offers. “When everyone finally learns who the prankster is, it’s going to be ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” Artie agrees. “It’s probably better that you’re not going to be there.”

“I was actually thinking the same thing,” Rachel says.

“Anyway, I should go,” Artie says. “I told my mom that I’d stop by the store for her on my way home. But we’re good, Rach?”

Rachel nods. “We’re good Artie.”

“I suppose I better go too,” Santana says as Artie heads towards his car. “As your daddy’s least favorite person, it would probably be better for everyone if I didn’t hang around. Call you later?”

Rachel nods and gives Santana a brief kiss, mindful of the fact that her daddy could pop out any minute. She watches Santana walk to her car and waves as she drives away. Closing the front door, Rachel heads up to her room so she can plan out her week of suspension.

…

Despite, for once, not being alone in her house, Rachel makes herself an early dinner and eats it quietly at the kitchen table. She considers asking her daddy if he wants anything, but she figures he's an adult and can take care of himself.

Back in her room, she does her homework. She knows Santana and Noah would mock her for doing her homework when she's suspended, but there's a reason why she asked every teacher for their lesson plan at the beginning of the year. She knows most in her situation would see a week of suspension as a vacation, but Rachel doesn't want to stop her routine.

She's just finishing a history essay that's supposed to be due in a week when her cell phone rings. It's her dad and Rachel immediately wonders if he's calling to defend daddy or to try and rebuke her since she still actually listens to him.

"So Michael tells me you've been suspended," her dad says eventually. "For an entire week. And that you've been pulling pranks for the last two years."

"I have."

There's a long pause before her dad responds. "And there's nothing you'd like to add? Perhaps speak in your defense? You're usually rather effusive about such things."

"For once, I have nothing to add," Rachel replies. "Nothing I say is going to change things."

Her dad sighs. "Look, honey, I know trying to convince Michael is a futile activity, but that doesn't mean that I've already made up my mind about the situation."

"I'm pleased to hear that dad," Rachel says. "However, it honestly doesn't matter."

"Just because the two of you don't see eye to eye, doesn't mean that you have to cut us both out, Rachel."

"Why?" Rachel asks. "Are you going to take my side?"

"I honestly don't know honey," he replies.

"Well, at least you're honest." Rachel expects her dad to sigh loudly and give up on her, but he surprises her.

"The thing is," he starts. "I realize that Michael's not being fair to you, especially considering the reasons behind it."

"What exactly is his problem with Santana?"

Her dad sighs again. "She reminds him of himself when he was your age. He was the self hating jock who bullied people to feel better about himself. The difference is, he didn't meet someone who loved him in spite of all that, thus giving him a reason to reform."

"Oh."

"Michael matured a lot in college," he continues. "I've only heard stories, but it's definitely true."

"So he's upset that Santana got her second chance sooner? Or that I'm the one providing it?"

"A little of both, honestly."

"What am I supposed to do then?" Rachel asks. "And that can't be all."

"No, it's not," her dad agrees. "He also really does believe all those things he's saying. He really does worry that she'll stop you from achieving your dreams."

"Why? Santana is incredibly smart and ridiculously ambitious. What could she want that would hold me back?"

"I really don't know, honey. It's just what he believes."

"So it really is a stalemate," Rachel mutters.

"We just need to give him some time," he says.

"You don't think the past year is enough?" Rachel questions.

"I consider him pretending that she doesn't exist progress," her dad replies.

"Denial is not progress."

"I know, but maybe it'll give him enough emotional distance that he'll be willing to have a civil conversation."

"I guess anything's possible," Rachel says.

…

When Santana arrives at McKinley on Tuesday, the rumors of who the Prankster is are flying. Even though Quinn spilled the beans about Rachel yesterday at lunch, Santana's pretty sure that most people either don't believe it or haven't heard it yet. She and Britt have a bet on how long it will be before the whole school knows.

Santana can feel people's eyes on her and she wonders if it's because they think she's the Prankster or because they know it's Rach.

…

"I'm surprised Kurt isn't here interrogating us," Tina says at lunch.

"Maybe his head exploded," Mike suggests. "He did seem pretty shocked yesterday."

"Leave it to Quinn to just blurt it out," Tina retorts.

"She's Quinn Fabray," Artie replies. "She can do whatever the hell she wants."

"That's for damn sure," Wendy mutters.

Brittany giggles. "I don't think Kurt would have believed it otherwise."

"Even if Rach had been the one to tell him?" Marisa asks.

Brittany nods. "He'd probably think she was doing it to distract everyone from San."

…

Will is still in shock as he sits down across from Emma for lunch. It's obvious that she's heard, judging by the slightly too wide smile she's wearing.

"Who did you hear it from?"

"Becky," Emma replies. "I think Sue told her to tell me. You?"

"Finn told me, actually," Will replies. "He's been saying it's Rachel for over a year now. I think he's just glad to finally be right."

"That's, uh... Finn, really?"

Will nods. "I'm not sure the world makes sense anymore. I mean, Rachel's a delinquent and Finn... well, anyway."

"Certainly a more interesting world."

"I suppose you're pleased," Will says.

"Quite, actually," Sue replies. "But not for the reasons your fluffy head is imagining."

"Why?" Emma asks.

"Because I was proven right about Berry," Sue tells them. "And it gained me an ally and you a foe. God, I love every part of that sentence."

"And the ally you gained is... Rachel Berry?" Emma asks.

"Indeed," Sue replies. "I can admit now that I underestimated the midget. She's going places and not just because she's one of the few of your rejects that can actually sing."

"How long have you known?" Will asks.

Sue grins and Will is afraid.

"I'm surprised that you would keep Rachel's secret," Emma observes. "After all, taking down Rachel would in turn hurt glee."

"Perhaps," Sue nods. "But this whole situation has been so entertaining; plus I do enjoy lording information over William here."

"Sue..."

"Don't even, William," Sue replies. "I supported Berry. You just tried to trick her into confessing. Unlike you, my loyalty isn't something so easily tossed aside."

"I can't tell if you really believe that," Will says. "Or if you just enjoy messing with me."

"Why can't it be both?"

…

Deciding to use her unexpected free time wisely, Rachel decides to make two separate life plans; one that includes staying with Santana after graduation and one that doesn't. Even though the thought of breaking up with Santana physically hurts to think about, Rachel knows it has to be considered. They both want too much in life to let their relationship get in the way and Rachel fears that while staying with Santana may lead to immediate and continued happiness, it's doomed in the long run.

Even though the decision has been floating around in her head for months, Rachel's mostly only given it a cursory thought. Her suspension means she no longer has the excuse of no time. And so, Rachel pulls out a notebook and begins to create two entirely different life plans.

…

Santana is really not in the mood for glee this afternoon. Having to deal with Hudson's joy at being right or Mr. Schue's confusion or even Kurt's endless questions sounds like something too painful to endure without Rachel. This makes the fact that she and Britt are the first ones to arrive even more surprising. Santana shakes her head at herself. Rachel will be pleased to know that Brittany still has plenty of pull over Santana.

To her immense relief, Mike shows up next, then Quinn and then the others straggle in one at a time, except for Finn who arrives last.

He stands in front of the room looking smug. "I freaking told you guys it was Rachel, but no one believed me."

"Big deal," Puck says from behind Santana. "You were right once. Law of averages."

This earns a laugh from the entire room.

"Hey," Finn says. "I've been right before."

"Yeah, but spelling both your first and last name correctly on a test doesn't count," Santana snarks.

"Yeah, you're both real funny," Finn replies. "But I'm still right and now everyone knows that Rach is the Prankster."

"And now we have proof that she really is cooler than you Finn," Brittany speaks up.

"You know what? I've had it with you guys—"

"Okay, guys," Mr. Schuester says, entering the room. "Who's ready to get started?"

Kurt's hand shoots up. "Mr. Schue?"

"Yes Kurt?"

"I know it's a bit... off topic, but I think a discussion about the Prankster would really bring us all together."

Santana, Brittany, and Puck all groan. The others don't look all that eager either.

"Kurt," Mr. Schue starts. "I understand that the identity of the Prankster is big news, but I'm sure that you can find another time to talk it out."

"But Mr. Schue," Kurt continues. "The Prankster is one of us. We need to talk about the implications, the camaraderie it brought, the—"

"Kurt."

"Oh just let him flail from five minutes, Mr. Schue," Puck speaks up. "Otherwise we'll never get any peace."

Mr. Schue sighs. "Fine. Kurt, you have the floor."

"Thank you, Mr. Schue." Kurt jumps up with a grin.

Santana lets out a loud groan.

"Since apparently everyone else knew that Rachel was the Prankster," Kurt starts. "I have a few questions that need to be answered."

"No one's stopping you," Puck retorts.

"But considering Rach is the one with all the answers, I'm not sure what the point is," Mike adds.

"The point is that you guys were involved. Some more than others. And that means you guys have to have some answers."

"Just let him ask his damn questions," Santana says.

Kurt looks shocked. "Thank you Santana."

"Because the sooner this is over, the better."

"Well, yes, there's that," Kurt agrees. "My first question is, has Rachel really been the Prankster this whole time?"

"As opposed to what?" Brittany asks.

Kurt does a double take before replying. "Meaning that maybe Puck or Santana pulled the first couple and then when Rachel the Planner stepped in, it became a brand new game, so to speak."

"Believe what you want, Hummel," Puck says. "But it's been my bro since the beginning. With a little help here and there, of course."

"Of course."

"Is that it Kurt?" Mr. Schue asks.

"My next question," Kurt says. "Who came up with the prank ideas?"

Santana sighs. "Rach mostly."

"Rachel came up with all of them?"

"Don't be silly," Brittany says. "Course not. But she did come up with most of them. But if someone else thought of something they wanted to do, Rach tried to figure out if it was possible and if it was, we did it."

"So you're saying some of the pranks were your idea?"

Brittany nods. "A few."

"And then what? Some were Puck's or Santana's?"

They both nod.

"Huh."

Mercedes leads Kurt back to his seat as he sinks into it.

Artie raises his hand. "Which ones were your ideas, Britt?"

"Um... the pond I think," Brittany replies. "Oooh, and painting the orange line."

"That was you?" Finn asks.

"And so asks the only idiot who was fooled by it," Santana says.

"Shut up, Lopez."

"Is that all your questions, Kurt?"

"I just... Just please tell me that it took more than one person to pull off the castle."

"Oh yeah," Puck grins. "That was a four m—uh, person operation."

Okay, so if that's all..." Mr. Schue waits a moment, but Kurt seems quiet for the moment. "Let's do some singing."

…

It takes more convincing that Santana wants to put forth to convince the others that a surprise group visit to Rachel's might not be the best idea. It's not that she thinks Rachel won't appreciate it, though Santana's still not sure what to think about Kurt; it's more that she's not entirely sure what the situation is with Rachel and her dads.

When she's a block away, she sends Rachel a text asking if it's okay to come over.

Of course it is, Santana. Please do. I've been alone all day and I miss you.

Well that answers that. Santana really don't understand Rachel's dads. She supposes she shouldn't complain. In most other scenarios, she wouldn't be allowed to still see Rachel. The fact that Rachel's dads are hypocritical and judgmental definitely works in her favor.

Though there is a part of her that wishes Rachel had different, better dads; the parents that Santana believes Rachel deserves. Even if it meant they couldn't be together.

But that's not really possible, so Santana just hopes that one day they'll come around.

…

"I can't believe that you knew and didn't tell me."

Wendy rolls her eyes as Missy actually whips her shirt into her locker in anger. It makes her wonder if she'll treat her Cheerios' uniform like that after practice. Coach would not be pleased. Then again, Missy probably doesn't care since she's been sulking ever since she picked Wendy up for morning Cheerios' practice.

"I'm sorry Mis," Wendy says. "But I couldn't."

"Just when I was actually thinking of giving up on her," Missy murmurs. "She has to do something like this and make herself even more attractive."

Wendy sighs. "Give it up, already Missy."

"You got who you wanted, Wendy," Missy replies. "Why shouldn't I?"

"Because who I wanted, wasn't dating anyone at the time," Wendy says.

"Stupid rules," Missy grumbles.

…

Walking by Coach Sylvester's office, Kurt sees Becky exiting.

"Hey Becky."

"Hi Kurt."

"Can I ask you a question?" Kurt asks as he starts walking with Becky. He knows better than to slow her down when she's on a mission for Coach Sylvester.

"I guess."

"I don't suppose you know how long the Coach as known that Rachel Berry is the Prankster."

"Um..."

"Because I'm just curious," Kurt continues. "Apparently everyone knew and I'm just trying to figure out how it got past me."

"Wait," Becky says. "So you didn't know?"

Kurt shakes his head.

"Interesting."

Wanting to be polite, Kurt asks, "When did you find out?"

"I figured it out over the summer," Becky replies.

Kurt actually stops walking and just stares at Becky. After a few steps, she stops and turns to face him.

"Really?" Becky questions, rolling her eyes.

"I've just never felt more out of the loop before."

"Well cheer up, Kurt," Becky says as she starts walking again, leaving him behind. "At least you know now."

…

By Wednesday, there's no one at McKinley that doesn't know that Rachel is the Prankster. And they all have an opinion about it.

Santana is almost constantly confronted in the halls; either by someone who wants to congratulate Rachel and call her a genius or by someone who felt violated by a prank and still hasn't gotten over it. The latter is definitely in the minority, but it makes Santana a bit concerned. Maybe Rach should have an escort the first couple days.

…

Because everyone knows that Puck is bros with Rachel, he's approached a lot the rest of the week and asked about her being the Prankster. He really does try and give Rach most of the credit because Santana would kick his ass otherwise, but mostly because he really believes that his bro deserves the credit. The fact that all the girls that approach him seem to find it really hot that he's so supportive of Rachel is just a bonus.

…

The rest of the week passes too slowly for Santana. She splits her time between worrying about Rachel's reception when she returns, being annoyed that she's barely seen her girlfriend, being thoroughly irritated by Hudson's haughtiness and wanting to strangle Kurt because he still can't seem to wrap his head around Rachel being the prankster.

…

Rachel manages to accomplish quite a bit in just four days; not that she's surprised, just pleased. The biggest accomplishment is cleaning out her room. Even though she knows that when she leaves for college in several months, she won't be leaving for good, Rachel also doesn't want to have to come back if she doesn't want to. She has a feeling that things will never really return to how they were between her and her dads. And while she's relieved that she doesn't have to pretend that everything is fine and dandy, Rachel also mourns the loss of her dads; or at least the closer relationship she almost believed they had. She knows admitting that also means admitting how long she's been lying to herself about the relationship as a whole. And while the mature adult she's yearning to be mostly accepts that, the little girl that she's not sure she ever got to be is heartbroken.

This also reminds Rachel that too much time alone makes her very introspective.

…

Friday bro night is like any other night, even if their activity choices have decreased.

"It's too bad you got caught, bro," Noah says as he opens another beer.

"I agree, Noah," Rachel replies. "But for what reason, specifically, were you referring?"

The activity for the night is video games. Noah brought over his console and is trying to teach Rachel how to play various shooter games.

Noah sighs and pauses the game, looking almost apologetic. "I'd been kinda hoping for a absurd and possibly large graduation prank."

"You could still pull one," Rachel tells him.

"I can't actually," Noah replies.

"And why is that?"

"Because no one would ever believe that you weren't behind it," he says. "And knowing Figgins, he wouldn't let you graduate."

"Thanks Noah."

"Plus, we both know that you're the brains of this operation," he says as he unpauses the game and returns his attention to the screen. "And that anything I come up with would either be a complete let down or impossible to pull off."

Rachel smirks. "There's a compliment in there somewhere."

Noah grins back and bumps her with his shoulder. "Never change, Rach."

"I love you too, Noah."

…

"I've been hearing some interesting rumors about you, Rachel."

"Such as?"

It's Sunday night making both Rachel and Santana are relieved that Sunday night dinner is still a regular occurrence. Not that there was a chance of it being canceled, but Santana had been a little worried that if her parents heard about Rachel being the Prankster, which is a possibility since Lima is such a small town, that maybe they wouldn't want to associate with Rachel anymore.

"The talk of the town this week is that you apparently are the notorious prankster at McKinley," Tomás replies.

"Yes, well, good news travels quickly, doesn't it?"

"Are you saying it's true?"

"I am, Clara."

This statement is met with silence and Rachel worries about their reactions. The fact that she's more worried about their disapproval than about her daddy's condemnation isn't lost on her.

"How were you not expelled?" Tomás asks.

Rachel smiles. "I wish I could tell you. But if I do, well, then I'll probably be in even more trouble."

"Please tell me you didn't blackmail anyone," Clara says.

"If you did," Tomás interjects. "Lie to Clara and tell me about it later."

"Papa."

"No Tomás," Rachel replies. "I didn't blackmail anyone."

"Does that mean—"

"Tomás," Rachel interrupts. "I really can't talk about it." Rachel turns to Clara. "And it's not as bad as it seems. I promise."

"Thank you dear," Clara replies. "I'm starting to think it's better if I don't know."

"Plausible deniability," Santana mutters.

"In we weren't in Lima, I'd worry that you were part of the mob or something," Tomás comments.

Rachel glares at Santana. "What have you been telling him?"

Santana holds her hands up in defense. "I'm not the one calling in favors and being all mysterious."

Rachel sighs. "I promise it's nothing illegal. I just know the politics of McKinley and took advantage of the situation, I guess."

"I've honestly never been quite sure about Figgins," Clara says.

"I suppose he means well," Rachel replies. "But he's got a lot working against him."

"Like troublemakers who constantly prank his school," Tomás chuckles.

"I'm not sure I would use the word, constantly," Rachel hedges.

"So when is your suspension over, dear?" Clara asks.

"I return to McKinley tomorrow," Rachel answers.

"Should be interesting," Tomás says.

"I hope not," Santana adds.

"What makes you say that?" Clara asks.

"Because everyone in that school sucks," Santana retorts. "And I really don't know if they're going to validate or vilify Rach."

"An excellent point," Tomás agrees. "You don't seem as concerned, Rachel."

"Santana's concerned enough for both of us," Rachel replies. "And one of us has to remain composed."

Clara stares at Rachel for a moment before asking, "Are you sure you're only seventeen?"

…

Rachel can only admit it to Santana; and Brittany, but only because she guesses it, but she's a bit nervous about returning to McKinley. She knows from personal experience that the students of her high school are cruel, creative creatures.

"The same could be said about you, Rachy," Brittany says.

"You consider me cruel?" Rachel asks.

"Well... not exactly," Brittany replies. "More like, you've been treated pretty bad and your retaliation reflects that."

"That's much more poetic than I would have put it," Rachel says.

"Britt's always had a way with words," Santana adds.

"But you have nothing to worry about Rachy," Brittany says. "Me and S will protect you."

"Thanks Britt."

"Plus there's Mike and Quinn and Puck."

Rachel wasn't expecting that. "Quinn really?"

Brittany nods.

"Because of Alyson?"

"Partly," Brittany replies. "But probably mostly because Coach Sylvester loves you."

Rachel nods in relief. "That makes sense."

"Shall we babe?" Santana asks, offering her arm.

Rachel smiles sweetly as she hooks their arms together. "Lead on, San."

…

The first big difference is that everyone greets Rachel in the hallway. Flanked by Santana and Brittany, Rachel can feel how tense both Cheerios are, which in turn, helps Rachel stay calm. That doesn't meant that Rachel isn't a bit unnerved by all the attention. While she usually welcomes it from any sort of audience, Rachel has never been quite sure about her peers; like she said, they are a malicious and judgmental bunch.

However, it seems like most of the students support her; either because she got classes cancelled or for simply messing with the administration. Almost everyone Rachel encounters has something to say about why they approve of the Prankster.

It's enough for Santana to let her guard down a bit and relish Rachel's enjoyment of her notoriety.

…

There are some days that Puck wishes he did better in school. If he did, maybe he'd be in more classes with Rachel and could watch out for her. Santana's decided that someone with social clout should be Rachel at all times, just in case any of their idiotic classmates want revenge. He'd been surprised when Quinn agreed with Santana, saying that some people weren't happy. He would have figured everyone would have enjoyed the extra days off. Then again, maybe locking everyone inside the school wasn't the best idea.

So he, Mike, Quinn, Britt or Santana will walk with Rachel in the halls for the rest of the week. It's a job that he takes seriously, he just wishes he could help out more.

…

To Rachel's complete annoyance, she's almost immediately pulled out of first period by Ms. Pillsbury.

"I just wanted to check in with you," Ms. Pillsbury explains. "You know, after your, um, suspension."

"I'm fine," Rachel replies.

"There's nothing you need to talk about? Maybe about being discovered, or even what drove you to become the prankster?"

"Maybe I could just have a brochure and go back to class," Rachel suggests.

Ms. Pillsbury looks briefly over her shoulder before saying, "Oh, well, I sincerely doubt I have a brochure for... any of this." She begins wringing her hands. "Are you sure there's nothing you need to discuss?"

Rachel shakes her head. "I'm fine, Ms. Pillsbury."

"All right, Rachel," Ms. Pillsbury says. "You may return to class, but please remember my door is always open."

"Of course," Rachel replies, standing. "Thank you, Ms. Pillsbury."

…

Rachel's only taken a few steps down the hall before she finds Greg Sanderson standing in front of her.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm returning to class," Rachel replies.

"We need to talk."

"Why on earth would that be true?" Rachel scoffs.

"Quite a few of us have been just waiting to find out who the Prankster is," Greg replies.

"Again, why?"

"You did some pretty shitty shit to us," Greg growls.

"Shitty shit? Really?"

"So it's payback time," Greg says.

Rachel tries not to let her nervousness show. "You're not worrying about Santana finding out?"

Greg scoffs. "Lopez thinks just because she's managed to dyke up a few hot chicks, she's hot shit. I'm not scared of her."

"What about Coach Sylvester?" Rachel tries.

"What? Is she going to beat me with all her trophies?"

"At least she actually wins things," Rachel can't help but retort.

His response is a back handed slap. It's completely unexpected and has enough force to make Rachel stumble slightly; only her superior balance and pride keeps her from falling backwards.

Greg chuckles cruelly.

Tears in her eyes, Rachel glares at him and clenches her fists, so he can't see her hands shaking as she straightens.

"Well that was unexpected," Greg smirks. "Lopez smack you around a lot?"

"Do you really think I'm not going to speak to the administration about this, Greg?"

"Oh, so you know my name now?"

"What exactly was your plan here?" Rachel continues. "Because if you think for one second that I'm not going to report you, then you really are dumber than you look."

Growling, Greg takes a menacing step forward.

Rachel swallows nervously. "Also, I'm not afraid of you."

Greg grins. "Then you're dumber than you look."

…

Even though Rachel is safely ensconced in class, Santana's still worried. First period is the only class Rachel doesn't share with her or Britt or Quinn or Puck or Mike. Yes, Mike's first period class is right next to Rach's, so he'll be there to walk her right after class, but Santana can't help but worry.

…

As the kids take a surprise quiz, Will's eyes fall on Kurt, and he can't help but remember that Rachel is back at McKinley. Ever since he learned that she's the Prankster, Will's been wondering if Rachel is also the one who has been dumping slushies on him. They've never quite gotten along and he blames himself equally with Rachel on that, but he just can't figure out what he's done that's so horrible to make her want to retaliate like that.

Maybe he should try and talk to her today after class. Rachel's in his last period Spanish, so they'd have the proper time to talk with having to worry about the next period or getting to glee. Perhaps they can finally have the heart to heart he's always wanted.

…

Rachel refuses to flinch as Greg takes another step closer. She hopes he's going for terror over actual violence, but she's doubtful. For some reason, she'd rather face him than run. Even if it ends badly, standing up for herself may stop something like this from happening again. Taking a deep breath, Rachel's stance becomes defensive.

Greg begins laughing, which Rachel understands. As captain of the basketball team, Greg stands over six feet tall. Rachel is not an opposing figure in comparison; still she knows how to defend herself and so she ignores his mocking laughter.

Seeing that Rachel still hasn't back down, Greg's expression sobers and he slowly clenches his fist.

"Hey!"

Both Greg looks over his shoulder as Rachel stretches to see who spoke.

"Get the hell away from her."

Rachel's a bit shocked to see Tony the head janitor standing there. He makes an opposing figure, even if he's shorter than Greg, who backs up slightly.

"We were just talking," Greg says, smiling widely.

"Somehow I doubt that."

"It's not of your damn business, anyway, old man," Greg replies.

Tony sighs. "Kid, I don't have time for your pathetic attempt at threats, so just back away."

Greg takes a step back. "Whatever. What are you going to do? Follow her around?"

"Don't be stupid," Tony retorts. "I'm simply going to tell Coach Sylvester about the situation. And then if anything happens to Ms. Berry, you'll have to answer to her."

"Like I'm afraid of a super bitchy cheerleading coach," Greg scoffs.

"Well what about the Cheerio that broke your leg and jaw?" Tony asks. "Are you afraid of her? Because I'm sure she'll be upset. I wonder what she'll do..."

Rachel watches Greg swallow slowly.

"So why don't you do us all a favor," Tony continues. "And leave Ms. Berry alone. From now on."

Greg closes his eyes and takes several deep breaths as he shakes slightly in anger. Opening his eyes, he nods. "Fine." He backs away from Rachel and skulks down the hall.

Once he's out of sight, Rachel lets out a sigh of relief.

"You okay?"

Rachel nods.

"Good. Let's go get you some ice for that cheek."

…

Spying Quinn and Rachel sitting together at lunch is surprising to Kurt, but it doesn't stop him from dragging Mercedes over to the table and sitting down.

"Ladies," he says sitting.

Quinn, for some reason, rolls her eyes.

"Hi Kurt."

"How are things?" Kurt asks.

"Fine," Rachel replies. "And you?"

"Fine as well," Kurt says. "So your day's going fine?"

"Just ask your damn questions, Hummel," Quinn growls.

"What's got you all pissy?" Mercedes asks.

"What's your question Kurt?" Rachel interjects.

Kurt's curiosity is piqued by Rachel's sudden outburst. He'd been under the impression that she wasn't all that eager to talk about being the Prankster. But he can only handle one interrogation at a time and he's been waiting for a week to talk to Rachel about this. Santana had threatened horrendous things if he'd gone to her house for gossip and so Kurt had abided.

"How the hell did you not get expelled?" Kurt asks.

Rachel shakes her head. "Can't say."

"Nothing? Not even if it's because of some old obscure rule that you found somewhere?" Kurt asks.

"Even then," Rachel confirms.

Kurt is actively staring at Rachel. "I just can't quite..."

Rachel sighs. "Yes Kurt?"

"Sorry Rach," Kurt replies. "I seem to be having a hard time accepting the fact that you're the Prankster."

"Why?

"I don't know," he says. "I guess I just never knew that you had it in you."

"Is that a compliment or an insult?"

"Welcome back," Artie says, joining them.

"Thanks Artie." Rachel turns to Mercedes. "Are you having... similar issues?"

"Not exactly," she replies. "But it is weird. Or at least super unexpected."

"I guess."

"Hey guys."

Mike and Wendy suddenly appear and sit next to Rachel.

"Welcome back, Rachel," Wendy says.

"Thanks."

"Is it weird being back?" Mike asks.

"It's only been a week, Mike," Rachel replies.

"So that's a no?"

…

Mike is Rachel's escort to the next class, so she, he and Wendy leave the lunch room together.

"Rach, wait up!"

When the three of them turn around, they see Finn hurrying towards them.

"Can I talk to you for a sec?" he asks.

Mike looks at Rachel who nods, so he and Wendy step aside as Finn steps closer.

"Hello Finn."

"Hi Rach."

Rachel waits a moment before saying, "So you had a question?"

"Not exactly," Finn replies. "Were you ever going to tell me?"

Rachel considers playing dumb, but doesn't want to prolong the conversation, so she shakes her head.

"Why not?" Finn whines.

"The fewer people that knew, the better," Rachel answers, even if that's not the reason.

"But Quinn and Artie and Tina and Mike and his Cheerio girlfriend knew," Finn points out.

"And not long after that, I was found out," Rachel retorts.

"Oh. Yeah."

"Is that all?" Rachel asks, a bit impatient.

Finn looks past Rachel at Mike, who Rachel assumes is shooting daggers at him, based on Finn's hurt and slightly confused expression.

"Uh, yeah," he says. "That's all."

"Very well." Rachel rejoins Mike and Wendy and they continue their journey to Mike's locker.

…

As Rachel is following Noah out of last period Spanish, she's stopped by Mr. Schuester.

"Can we talk for a moment, Rachel?"

Sighing, Rachel nods, tugging slightly on Noah to get his attention.

Noah scoffs which he tries to cover with a cough when Rachel explains, but he agrees to wait just outside the room.

Rachel remains standing because Mr. Schue does. She's even more glad of her decision when he begins to pace slightly.

"I admit," he says, eventually. "That I was utterly shocked to learn that you're the Prankster." He sighs. "Though... I probably shouldn't have been."

Rachel's not sure how to respond to that.

"I just wish I could understand why you would do all that."

Every response that Rachel has sounds incredibly sarcastic in her head and so she remains quiet.

"I mean things have vastly improved around here the past couple years."

Rachel has to mentally restrain herself from rolling her eyes.

Mr. Schue finally stops his pacing and looks at Rachel. "Who or what exactly were you attacking?"

Rachel wonders why she's still surprised by Mr. Schue's audacity; she should really have seen it coming.

"Is that all you wanted to ask?" Rachel questions.

He, of course, looks hurt by her avoidance of the question.

"No actually," he replies. "Someone has been randomly slushieing me. I was curious if it was you."

Rachel feels mildly insulted. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she tells him. Though she has a pretty good idea of who it might be.

"Seriously?" Mr. Schue seems very skeptical.

Rachel nods.

Mr. Schuester sighs. "All right."

He doesn't say anything else, so Rachel begins moving towards the door. "I'm going to go then."

"See you tomorrow," Mr. Schue replies, absently.

"What was that about?" Noah asks as the door softly clicks shut.

"Nothing important," Rachel tells him.

"Then let's get you to your locker, madam," Noah says, bowing slightly.

…

Since Santana gave her a ride to school, Rachel also needs a ride home. Noah offered, but Rachel wants to talk to Santana before anyone else mentions Greg Sanderson; plus she wants to ask about slushieing Mr. Schue.

Even though she's staring out at the field, Rachel's not really paying attention, so when Coach Sylvester sits down next to her, Rachel jumps slightly.

"No worries, Berry," Coach Sylvester says. "I come in peace."

"Sorry, Coach," Rachel replies. "I may have been day dreaming a bit."

"It's fine, Berry," she says. "I heard about Sanderson."

Rachel doesn't say anything. She's glad she stood up for herself, but hates how scared she was, no matter how justified.

"Try not to worry," Coach Sylvester continues. "I took care of it."

"Thank you Coach," Rachel replies. "But I'm not sure that owing you—"

"Free of charge," Coach Sylvester interrupts.

"Um... All right."

"There's no scenarios where a six foot four jock going after a five foot nothing teenage girl is acceptable, Berry, whether it was at school or not. I have no problem with the strong weeding out the weak, but Sanderson went too far."

Rachel lets out a sigh of relief. "Thanks Coach."

"Don't forget to mention it to Lopez," Coach Sylvester says. "That should keep her from going after him. We don't have time for her to get her ass suspended."

Rachel nods.

"God, I can't even leave them alone for one minute, can I?" Coach Sylvester stands. "I've seen more effort from my pet rock! Do it again!" She turns to Rachel. "I'm counting on you to keep Lopez in line, Berry."

"I know, Coach."

"Good," Coach Sylvester nods. "At least you and I understand each other." She holds up her bullhorn and begins yelling again as she returns to the field.

…

Tuesday, Greg Sanderson shows up with a shaved head covered in orange permanent marker. There's also a black permanent marker mustache and thick glasses. The final bit is the word, ASSHAT written in thick, red, block letters. All the marker is faded slightly and it's obvious that Greg attempted to wash it off, but to no avail.

He also had to walk to school because someone stole all four tires off his car and weirdly, the steering wheel.

It's only the start of a week full of bad luck.

fic: Agree to Disagree

2013-06-11T02:31:28Z

Title: Agree to Disagree
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, Brittany/Marisa, Puck, Coach Sylvester, Mike/Wendy, Artie, Quinn, Tina, Kurt, Mercedes, Finn, Figgins, Becky, Tomás Lopez, Clara, Lopez, Rachel's dads
Rating: light R
Summary: A group prank is planned.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~16,100
Spoilers: just previous parts of this series
A/N: Follows A Good Day
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.

series masterlist

Monday morning, Artie is waiting for Rachel at her locker. She spots him as she glides down the hallway and barely holds back a groan. She knows exactly what he wants. And while part of her thinks it'll be fun, most of her just wants a break from figuring anything out.

"Good morning, Artie," Rachel greets as she reaches her locker. "How was your weekend?"

"Hey Rach," Artie replies. "It was fine. How was Brittany's, uh, birthday thing?"

"Britt seemed to enjoy it," Rachel says.

"Good. That's good," Artie says. He leans in closer. "Can we talk at lunch?"

Though she has a pretty good idea of the topic, she asks, "About?"

"A group prank," Artie whispers.

"Sure. Choir room?"

Artie nods, grinning. "See you later, Rachel."

Rachel sighs as she watches him wheel away.

…

On her way to the choir room, Rachel receives a text from Santana.

Lunch? ;)

It's tempting, but she wants to hear what Artie has to say and get it over with. Rachel knows if she blows him off, she'll just spend the rest of the day wondering.

Unfortunately, I can't. I promised Artie we'd have lunch.

No rest for the prank fairy.

Seems not.

You're too nice, babe.

I simply enjoy a challenge,

I know. I just worry you're taking on too much.

I wouldn't be Rachel Berry if I didn't.

Whatever, werido.

Love you too, tiger.

…

"So you had an idea?"

"Sort of," Artie says. "I want to do this." He hands Rachel a packet.

"You want to try a sixth grade science project?" Rachel asks, flipping through the pages.

Artie shrugs. "Basically. I just can't figure out how exactly to… well, what to do, really."

"Hmmm, I agree," Rachel says, still flipping through the pages. "Nothing springs immediately to mind."

"Really?" Artie questions. "Because it looks kind of like you already have an idea."

"I have a seed of an idea," Rachel replies. "It still needs a bit more development. Let me read this. We'll keep brainstorming."

"Awesome." Grinning, Artie pulls out his lunch.

Rachel pulls out her lunch as well. She then flips to the first page of the packet and begins reading.

…

"I'm worried about Rachy," Brittany says.

She, Santana and Quinn are at one end of the Cheerios' table, while the rest of the squad huddle at the other end.

"Berry's fine, Britt," Quinn replies.

Brittany shakes her head. "I don't think so."

"Why not B?" Santana asks.

"She's doing too many pranks," Brittany replies.

Santana sighs. "I know. But she won't listen to me."

"I wish she'd stop agreeing to full fill everyone's requests."

"You know Rach is terrible at saying no," Santana replies.

"You two worry too much," Quinn says. "Berry seems to be taking care of herself just fine, this year."

Santana raises an eyebrow. "Are you defending her?"

"Definitely not," Quinn scoffs. "I'm just saying, Berry's made it this far, is all."

"That is both vague and not comforting."

…

"This definitely seems like a group prank," Rachel says after going through the packet a second time.

"I was kind of thinking the same thing," Artie agrees.

"Who did you have in mind?" Rachel asks.

"Well, me, you, obviously, Puck, Santana, Brittany, Mike, Quinn if she wanted, and Tina."

"Okay, well, I think that needs to be figured out first. Everything will be much easier to figure out if we know how much and what kind of help we'll have."

"Makes sense," Artie says. "Does that mean you have something in mind?"

Rachel nods.

"Okay, I'll work on that and get back to you."

…

It takes a bit of effort, but by the end of the day, Artie has managed to ask everyone on his list. Besides him and Rachel, they'll be six others, despite Quinn saying no.

"Sorry, but sometimes it's best to stay as far away from Berry and her crazy schemes as possible."

"All right."

"Besides, I managed to pull a prank mostly by myself last year, which definitely got it out of my system."

"True," Artie agrees, though he wants to point out how many Rachel has pulled, except he doesn't know how many she did solo.

"Thanks though," Quinn says.

When Artie asks Brittany, she gives an exuberant yes, followed by, "Can Marisa help too?"

"Um, I guess. She and Rach are friends, so it should be fine."

"I'll talk to Rachel," Brittany assures him.

"Okay. Good."

Not sure if he'll be able to find Rachel, he decides to text her.

Quinn said no. Everyone else is a yes. Brittany suggested Marisa too.

All he receives back is, Excellent. Thank you.

He waits for more, not used to Rachel being so laconic, but nothing follows. She must be busy.

It'll just give him more time to brainstorm. He feels bad that his idea isn't fleshed out more. He doesn't know how Rachel thought up all those pranks. He's been mulling over this prank idea for almost two weeks now. His respect for her has gone up considerably.

…

"So you're pulling another prank," Santana says when she calls her girlfriend Monday night.

"No, we're pulling another prank," Rachel corrects.

"Well, yeah, I know I agreed, but still."

"Well I hate to suggest it, but I'm going to have everyone over Saturday afternoon to go over specifics."

"I thought that was our day."

"Sunday then?" Rachel asks.

"Sunday is okay," Santana replies.

"I know it's not ideal, San," Rachel says. "And if you're really against it, I suppose we could do it Friday night. Plotting is certainly an acceptable bro night activity."

"Even if it's with six other people?"

“When you guys see what I’ve got planned, yes.”

“All right, babe,” Santana says. “It’s your bro night.”

…

"I believe I have it all figured out," Rachel tells Artie Tuesday morning.

"Really? Awesome," Artie replies. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised.”

"So I figure we have a planning session this weekend and make sure we all know what's happening," Rachel says. "For this to work, everyone is going to have to work together."

"Course. Course," Artie agrees.

"I'll let everyone know," Rachel says.

"Thanks Rach."

"Don’t get too excited," Rachel warns him. "Here's your to do list." She hands him a piece of paper.

Artie looks it over and nods. "This seems doable."

"Good," Rachel says. "I'll let you know about this weekend."

"I appreciate this Rachel," Artie says.

Rachel nods and then she's hurrying away, down the hall.

…

Rachel gives Puck a brief rundown of the prank that Artie wants to pull and he’s immediately in. He doesn’t even mind giving up bro night. There’s only a few more months of school and he really wants the prankster to pull one or two huge pranks before the end of the year. He hasn’t really said anything because he knows how ridiculous and time consuming that can be for Rachel. He just wishes he could come up with bigger, more complex pranks.

…

Artie is thankful that he has such a big vehicle. It's the easiest place to store all the supplies. He knows it's his fault for coming up with something so elaborate, but on the other hand, for it to be a group prank, it needs to be a bit complicated. He feels bad that he couldn't expand on his idea, but figures Rachel is used to coming up with awesome ideas so he might as well simply bow to her expertise.

…

When Rachel explains to Santana some of the specifics of the group prank, her first instinct is to say no. Sure, it sounds elaborate and awesome and epic, but Santana’s starting to worry about Rachel getting caught. The pranks are getting bigger and more daring; not to mention that Rachel has always said that adding more people always made things a bit more dangerous.

Rachel assures Santana that she has a contingency plan if she gets caught, but sometimes Santana worries that her girlfriend is just overestimating how much she can really get away with.

Still someone has to keep an eye on her, which is part of the reason Santana agreed. She just hopes that everything happens as Rachel has planned.

…

Friday night, Puck is naturally the first to arrive. He has a case of beer and a huge grin. After putting the beer in the fridge, he returns to the living room where Rachel and Artie are setting up a screen for Rachel's PowerPoint presentation.

"Thanks for letting me crash your bro night," Artie says.

"No worries," Puck replies, handing him one of the beers he's carrying. "I have a feeling that this prank is going to be epically awesome."

Artie grins. "You know it."

Shaking her head, Rachel ignores them both.

Tina's next, claiming a spot on the couch. "Thanks for the invite."

"Thanks for saying yes."

When Mike shows up a few minutes later, Puck bounds up the stairs. In Rachel's room, he finds Brittany, Marisa and Santana huddled together on Rachel's bed. Staring at them for a moment, he cannot figure out what they're doing.

"Uh, you guys ready?"

"Bout time you got here," Santana says, looking up. She slides off the bed and looks to Brittany. "I thought I'd be better at this. I mean, the additional levels make it a lot more complicated."

"Thank god," Marisa says, standing. "It's not just me."

"You guys are just over thinking it, is all," Brittany tells them.

"What are you guys talking about?" Puck asks.

"I'm trying to teach them 3-D chess," Brittany replies.

"What? Why? You know how to play 3-D chess?"

Brittany just shrugs.

"Of course you do."

"What's the hold up guys?" Rachel calls from downstairs.

"We're coming, babe," Santana replies.

The four of them traipse down the stairs.

"Get me a beer, Puckerman," Santana orders when they reach the bottom.

"Anyone else?" Puck asks the room.

"No one's getting drunk until we figure this out," Rachel says as hands raise.

"Course not, bro," Puck replies. "But one beer isn't going to hurt us. Five beers coming up."

Brittany, Marisa and Santana settle on the couch next to Tina. Mike's already claimed the recliner, leaving Puck to sprawl out on the floor after returning with the beers. He also hands Rachel a bottle of water.

"Thank you all for coming," Rachel says.

"Like we'd turn down a chance like this," Mike quips.

"Quinn did," Artie points out.

"That might be for more personal reasons," Santana says.

"Either way, we appreciate all the help we can get on this. I'm going to explain the whole prank, one step at a time. Please save all your questions for the end."

Rachel clicks start on her lap top and the PowerPoint presentation begins.

"This prank idea started with Artie." Artie's yearbook picture from their junior year is the first slide. "He suggested doing something with Oobleck." The next slide is a picture of an odd white substance. "I'm not sure if you guys are familiar with it. It's a liquid substance that you can walk on, if you do so quickly, but if you just stand still, you sink. So my idea is to fill the pool with Oobleck and trick people into walking on it."

"And how are we going to do that?" Puck asks, raising his hand.

"What did I say about questions?" Rachel says. "San."

Santana reaches out and smacks Puck in the back of the head.

"Really Rach?" he asks. He looks over his shoulder. "Besides, you were all thinking it."

"But we all knew Rachy would tell us."

"Anyway," Rachel interrupts. "The simplest way I can see is to set something up that convinces people that they can walk on it." The next slide is of a person, walking over a white surface. "But if you can walk on it, what's the prank?" Puck asks.

Santana smacks him again without prompting.

"Yes, you can walk on it," Rachel says. "But like I said, it has to be at a brisk pace." The next slide is someone sinking in Oobleck.

Puck nods, but doesn't say anything else.

"The simplest thing I could think of was to use a tennis ball launcher," Rachel explains. The next slide is a tennis ball launcher. "Have it fire off a couple rounds. You know that'll be enough to entice one of those idiots to try it."

"But as soon as someone does, the joke is over," Tina points out.

"And what happens if they walk over the deep end?" Marisa asks. "Isn't there a chance they'll drown?"

"No loss there," Santana mutters.

"Which is why," Rachel says. "We'll be putting plexiglass across the pool so the entire thing will be the same shallow depth." The next slide is a picture of an empty pool with a clear surface running the entire length of the bottom.

"How come no one else got smacked for talking?" Puck asks.

"How is the plexiglass going to be held up?" Mike asks. "Please tell me that we aren't building something elaborate."

"Lazy," Puck murmurs.

Rachel shakes her head. The next slide appears showing a pool filled with golf balls. "The simplest thing I can think of is to fill it with is the excess golf balls. We can then duct tape the plexiglass to the pool walls to keep it all in place."

"And fill the rest with Oobleck?" Artie finishes.

Rachel nods.

"Awesome," Artie says.

"So what do you guys think?" Rachel asks.

“It’s pretty ambitious, babe,” Santana says.

“Yeah Rachy,” Brittany adds. “Are you sure we’ll be able to pull all of that off?”

“Come on, guys,” Artie says. “There are eight of us total. It should be no problem.”

“That’s what Pucky thought about the castle,” Brittany replies. “But we barely got that one finished.”

“I feel like that was partly my fault,” Rachel says. “I don’t think I planned well enough. But I’ve learned from my mistakes and I have a much more detailed plan that has everything worked out.”

“Maybe we should move onto that part now then,” Artie suggests.

“No one else has any thoughts they want to share about this prank?” Rachel questions. "Because now would be the time to speak up."

No one speaks up. Considering how quippy everyone’s been tonight, Rachel’s a bit surprised. But after a moment, no one has said anything and so Rachel continues with her presentation.

"Okay the biggest hurdle," Rachel says. "Is the ingredients for the Oobleck." The next slide shows a mountain of white powder dwarfing the person standing next to it. "So we're all going to help carry in the corn starch using a couple wheelbarrows. After that, we can split up." The next slide is a picture of the pool. “Tina and Santana will drain the pool.” The next slide is a picture of a tennis ball launcher and Artie's yearbook picture again. "Artie will work on getting the launcher set up and working properly. It's going to have a timer that sets off the balls." The next slide is a giant piece of glass, as well as Puck and Mike's yearbook pictures. "Mike and Noah will carry in the plexiglass. Once it's all inside, you guys can start taping it together." The next slide is a picture of a roll of duct tape. "When Brittany and Marisa are done bringing in the golf balls, they can help with the plexiglass."

Artie raises his hand. “What about making the Oobleck?”

“Priority is getting everything set up.” The next slide appears. It has a picture of a swimming pool and a caulking gun. “Once the plexiglass is together, we’ll put it in the pool. This will be a group effort. Once everything is in place, Marisa and I will walk along the edge and seal all the plexiglass in place.”

Puck’s hand shoots up, but he doesn’t wait to speak. “Why just you two?”

“Because we’re the shortest and probably lightest. I’m not sure how things are going to settle and I figured this would be the easiest.”

“Meaning,” Santana interjects. “She doesn’t want the ridiculous, lumbering idiot ruining things as you ramble about.”

“San, be nice.”

“It’s Puck.”

“Anyway,” Rachel says. “While we’re doing that, Mike, Noah and Brittany will bring the hose from the janitors’ closet.” The next slide is a picture of a large hose. “Then once the plexiglass is secure, Tina and Santana can start adding the corn starch with some shovels.” The next slide is pictures of various shovels. “Then once the hose is there, we can begin mixing.” The next slide has everyone but Rachel and Artie’s picture, along with some paddles and more shovels. “Then everyone but Noah will grab a paddle and begin stirring. Noah will be adding more corn starch as needed while Artie and I will keep an eye on the mixture’s consistency and add water as necessary."

"Sounds easy enough," Mike says.

"It should be," Rachel agrees. "But we'll have to be careful."

"Careful how?" Tina asks.

"Well, getting the Oobleck the right consistency. I'd rather have the top be a little lower than I planned than to have the pool filled to the brim and not have the right consistency."

"Makes sense," Artie says. "It it's not the right consistency, it won't work at all."

"Which means, that those in charge of adding the corn starch and water have to follow mine or Artie's instructions to a T," Rachel explains.

Everyone, but Rachel looks at Puck.

"Hey! I've been pulling these by Rach's side for longer than any of you jokers. I know how to follow her directions."

"Yeah, but you're the--"

"Guys," Rachel interrupts. "I know all too well how much fun it is to pick on Noah, but he does have a point. We weren't be here if it wasn't for him."

"Awww, thanks, bro." Puck jumps up and pulls Rachel into a bear hug.

"God," Santana groans. "Just get a room already."

"I suggest that every day," Puck replies, leering.

Rachel sighs. "Noah, please sit down."

"But Rach, they started it," he protests.

"I know, but we still have more to cover."

Puck plops back down onto the floor, looking up at Rachel expectantly.

"Okay then." She clicks to the next slide, which is a repeat of the tennis ball launcher and Artie. "So once the Oobleck is properly mixed, Artie will make sure the tennis ball launcher is set up correctly while the rest of us clean up." The next slide is a repeat of the hose. "Brittany and Mike will put the hose back." Rachel clicks to the next slide which has a picture of Puck, Santana, Tina and Brittany along with a wheelbarrow and a shovel. "Noah and Santana will clean up the remaining corn starch with the wheelbarrows. Tina and Brittany will help by dumping the corn starch back into them." Rachel clicks the next slide to reveal the football field. "And then you guys can wheel it out to the field and dump it there."

"Dude," Puck interrupts. "What about all the snow?"

"I know where we should put the excess corn starch," Brittany volunteers.

"Where do you suggest Britt?" Rachel asks.

"Mr. Schue's office."

This announcement is met with silence.

"That seems kinda harsh," Marisa says.

"Rach?" Brittany asks.

"Britt, I don't know…"

"I say we take a vote," Santana says.

"Seriously?" Tina asks.

"You have a better idea?" Santana counters

"Well, no, but I also didn't think it was an actual option," Tina replies. "I mean, it's Mr. Schue."

"Exactly," Brittany says. "And it's just a little corn starch. What's the big deal?"

"I could say the same to you," Mike replies.

"Yeah," Artie agrees. "Are we missing something?"

The entire group turns to Rachel. "Don't look at me. It wasn't my suggestion."

"Yeah, but Brittany wouldn’t have suggested it if she didn't think you'd be okay with it," Mike points out.

Everyone nods, even Brittany.

After an endless moment, Rachel sighs. "Fine. Some people believe that Mr. Schue treats me… unfairly. And this would be a retaliation of sorts."

"Some people?" Tina asks.

"Yeah," Brittany says. "Me and San and Pucky do."

"And in terms of retaliation, this seems pretty mild," Santana adds.

"Yeah, like some of the things San wa--"

Santana slaps her hand over Brittany's mouth. "This isn't sharing time, all right B?"

The blonde nods and Santana removes her hand.

"So are we voting or what?" Puck asks.

"No," Rachel says. "We'll just have to figure out another place to--"

"No we won't," Mike interjects. "We can put it in Mr. Schue's office."

Everyone stares at Mike in shock.

"I mean this is all Rachel's… uh, game, I guess. And if Britt thinks Mr. Schue is being mean, then he probably is. Plus, it's just a little corn starch. Right?"

"Exactly," Brittany agrees.

Rachel looks around the room and everyone is nodding. "All right. So after Britt and Tina fill the wheelbarrows, Santana and Noah will wheel it to Mr. Schue's office." Rachel clicks to the next slide, which shows her and Marisa, as well as a broom and a mop. "Meanwhile, Marisa and I will be cleaning."

"Cleaning what?" Marisa asks.

"Sweeping up the excess corn starch and mopping up any spilled water." Rachel explains. She clicks to the next slide with is a collection of pictures of all the items being used. "Then we can carry everything else left out to Artie's Durango before leaving. Any questions?"

Marisa raises her hand.

"Marisa?"

"What time are we meeting?"

"Excellent question. I think midnight should give us enough time," Rachel replies. "Don't you think, San?"

"Should be," Santana agrees.

"Prepare to be tired all day," Puck adds.

"Oh and how are people getting there?" Rachel asks.

"Why?" Tina asks.

"Because the fewer cars, the better," Rachel answers.

"I can give one person a ride," Artie says. "With all the stuff in the back, that's really all I can fit."

"I can fit everyone else into my car," Brittany volunteers.

"Okay, so who's getting picked up by whom?" Rachel asks. "San will catch a ride with me."

"Mike's place is on the way to McKinley," Artie says. "That okay with you, man?"

Mike nods.

"Okay, so then Britt will get Marisa, Tina and Noah?"

"Works for me, Rachy."

"Guys?"

Everyone else nods.

"Excellent," Rachel says. She closes her lap top. "You guys want to watch a movie?"

"Can I get drunk now?" Puck asks.

"Yes, Noah," Rachel huffs.

He smirks as he winks at her before jumping up and hustling into the kitchen.

The rest of the evening is spent watching movies, drinking and occasionally mocking Puck.

…

Rachel is nervous. Santana never would have guessed, but watching Rachel on her laptop, it’s obvious. Santana is stretched out on Rachel’s bed watching her girlfriend search for songs on Youtube and judging by the huffs of annoyance she keeps letting out and the slight tapping of her foot, Santana presumes that Rachel is more worried about the group prank than she’s letting on.

“You seem anxious,” Santana says finally.

Rachel jumps slightly; another sign, before turning to face Santana. “A bit perhaps.”

“Why? Everyone knows what is expected of them and everything is meticulously planned out.”

“It’s going to be a lot of work,” Rachel says.

“So? You’re not afraid of a little hard work,” Santana points out. "Or a lot."

“This is going to set the bar for pranks ridiculously high,” Rachel continues.

“Higher than turning the school into a castle? Or the swimming pool into a full on pond, complete with living animals? Or water balloon bombing the whole school?”

“Perhaps not.”

“It’ll be fine, babe,” Santana assures her.

“I’m just glad that your parents are out of town and agreed to let you stay here,” Rachel says. “I’m not sure I could sit through a Sunday dinner right now.”

“Can I make a suggestion?”

Rachel nods.

“Why don’t we take a nap, so we’re ready for tonight?”

Rachel shakes her head. “I’m not sure I could sleep, right now.”

Santana’s shirt hits Rachel squarely in the face. “Don’t worry, babe. I’ll tire you out.”

…

They arrive at McKinley at 11:53 p.m. according to the clock in Rachel’s car. Santana follows Rachel as she goes to the side door and watches with a smirk as her girlfriend quickly picks the lock with ease. She wonders if watching Rachel commit petty crimes will ever stop being such a turn on. God, she hopes not.

They’re unloading everything from Rachel’s car when the others start to arrive. Thankfully, no one seems to need step by step instructions and they begin to help unload the vehicles. Between the eight of them it takes almost no time. The real challenge is getting all the corn starch inside. Still with them all working together, it takes less time than Rachel allotted for it. Looking at her watch, Rachel lets a smile spread across her face.

Once everything’s inside, everyone splits up to do their assigned tasks. They’re all so focused that they don’t notice that they’re being watched until a shrill whistle grabs their attention.

Everyone’s heads whip around to find Principal Figgins watching them.

…

“So the prankster is more than one person,” Figgins comments, still eyeing everyone.

No one’s moving.

“I can still see you, you know, even if you’re standing still,” he says.

“We’re just in shock,” Rachel replies.

“Ms. Berry. I should have known. And what a surprise, Ms. Lopez and Mr. Puckerman. But the rest of you…”

“May I offer a suggestion, Principal Figgins?”

“I’m not sure you’re in the position to negotiate, Ms. Berry,” he replies.

“Well,” Rachel says, as if she didn’t hear what Figgins just said. “I suggest that we clean this all up and then you and I can speak in your office.”

“I hardly think that—“

“Do you really want to pay Tony and the others over time to come clean this up?” Rachel questions.

Figgins glares back at Rachel, hating how calm she is, despite the massive amount of trouble she’s now in.

“Fine,” he says. “Clean this up, but none of you are leaving.”

Rachel nods. “You’ll be in your office?”

Figgins nods.

“All right, guys,” Rachel says. “Let’s start by bringing all this back out to the cars. Mike, can you help Artie put the tennis ball launcher back?” Mike nods. He and Artie then begin pushing it out of the room. “Britt and Marisa, can you return the golf balls?” They both nod. “Okay, Tina and Santana, we’ll start with all the other stuff. Noah, you can start with the plexiglass and then when Mike gets back, he’ll help.” Everyone nods and gets to work.

Rachel’s surprised that no one says anything or even asks if Rachel has a plan. She wonders if that’s because they believe she does or they’re too afraid to ask; maybe both.

It doesn’t take too long, especially considering that they have to take all the corn starch out to the dumpsters. Rachel finds herself impressed with their efficiency. She’s willing to bet that the prank would have gone off without a hitch. She finds herself feeling a bit disappointed; after all this planning, she’d been somewhat excited to see the end result.

…

Despite Figgins’ demands, Rachel tells everyone else to go home, even Santana. Her girlfriend protests, but finally agrees when Rachel reveals her plan needs for her to face Figgins alone. So Santana reluctantly catches a ride from Brittany, who agrees to drop Santana off at Rachel’s.

Figgins’ door is open when Rachel approaches it, so she enters and sits without a word. The principal doesn’t say anything immediately, seemingly waiting. When no one else enters behind Rachel and it’s obvious that no one is lingering in fear, Figgins speaks.

“And the others?”

“Oh, I sent them home.”

“I believe I was quite clear about everyone staying,” Figgins says with a grimace.

“You were,” Rachel agrees. “But I didn’t see the point."

“You didn’t see the point?”

“Well, seeing as how I’m the prankster, I don’t see the point in detaining anyone else,” Rachel explains.

“The others were still involved,” Figgins points out.

“Doesn’t matter,” Rachel replies. “The others are mere followers, puppets, minions, really. I’m the one you want. I’m the instigator behind the schemes.”

“While I’m willing to admit that you’re both intelligent and manipulative, Ms. Berry,” Figgins says. “Do you really expect me to believe that out of that whole group, which includes both Santana Lopez and Noah Puckerman in it, that you’re the mastermind behind it all?”

Rachel nods.

“You’re responsible for over fifty pranks over the last two school years?”

Rachel nods again.

“That doesn’t mean that the others aren’t going to be—“

“Actually, it does,” Rachel says. “You’re going to only punish me and let the others off with a warning and I won’t fight your accusations.”

“I caught you all red handed,” Figgins points out. “Why would I need your cooperation?”

Rachel smirks. “You’ve been trying to catch the prankster for a long time. And even though you had me here, in your office, throwing accusations around, nothing came of it. We can certainly go back to that, if you prefer.”

“Nothing you’ve said changes the fact that I caught you all red handed in the act of pulling a prank,” Figgins argues.

"Prove it."

"What?" Figgins is flabbergasted. "I'm the principal of this school, young lady. I don't have to prove it."

“Perhaps,” Rachel replies. “Though what happened to innocent until proven guilty?"

"You were proven guilty when I caught you all red handed."

"Okay, but if you go after the others, I will be fighting for them, full on Rachel Berry mode. And it won’t be pretty.”

“Are you threatening me, Ms. Berry?”

“I would never dream of that, sir,” Rachel replies, her expression going innocent. “I’m simply informing you of what my response to a possible situation would be.”

“I see.”

Figgins stares at Rachel, a contemplative look on his face. Rachel wonders if that’s a good sign. She doesn’t say anything, just does her best to return his stare and stay calm.

“Very well,” Figgins says, finally. “Since they cleaned everything up and you claim sole responsibility, I won’t consider any of them part of the prankster issue. However, tomorrow you and I will be talking more. And I will also be calling your fathers on this matter.”

Rachel rolls her eyes.

“And just because it’s after two in the morning, doesn’t mean I don’t expect you to be here tomorrow morning, on time, Ms. Berry.”

“I wouldn’t dream of being late, Principal Figgins,” Rachel replies, smiling a bit too brightly.

“We’ll discuss the consequences of your actions tomorrow then. You may go.”

Rachel stands. “Good night, Principal Figgins.” And then she turns and bounces out of the room.

Figgins is left staring after her, wondering how the hell she can be so laid back about the situation. Does she not realize that Figgins will most likely be suspending or possibly even expelling her in the morning?

Despite wanting to punish all those he stumbled onto tonight, he won’t be. Figgins can admit that the thrill of finally catching and punishing the prankster will be enough to satisfy him. All he really cares about is stopping the pranks; punishing the perpetrator will just be a bonus for him.

…

Rachel’s glad she turned off her cell phone because when she slides into her car, she pulls it out and turns it on to find four voicemails and eleven texts. Everyone sent a text, making sure Rachel was okay; there are also follow up ones offering support. Marisa’s is full of thank yous; Mrs. Lawson would throw a fit if she ever found out. Next she checks her voicemail. The first voicemail is from Artie, full of apologies and guilt. The second is from Santana, upset that Rachel is trying to handle the whole thing by herself. The next voicemail is from Noah. It’s full of reassurances, support and the word bro is said at a dozen times. The final one is from Brittany telling Rachel to take it easy on Figgins and not ruin him too much.

Sighing, Rachel starts her car and resolves herself to a sleepless night. After all, Santana’s going to want to have a discussion about the situation, Rachel just knows it. She turns on the radio and enjoys the peace as she drives home, knowing her next few days will be filled with chaos.

…

Santana is pacing in the living room when Rachel arrives home.

"How bad is it?" Santana asks.

"It's nothing," Rachel replies, feeling more tired than she can afford to be.

"Nothing?" Santana questions. "Figgins is gonna annihilate you. He has to, to save face."

"I know," Rachel says.

"And yet you're not worried," Santana observes. "In fact, you seem almost calm."

Rachel gives an uncharacteristically causal shrug. "We're caught. It was bound to happen."

Santana eyes her girlfriend warily. "You're very calm. You've got to have a plan then."

Rachel smirks. "It's late. We should try to get a few hours of sleep. I have a feeling I'm going to need it tomorrow."

"Technically, babe, it's already tomorrow," Santana says, pointing at the clock.

"Whatever."

"So you're really not going to let me in on your plan?" Santana asks as they climb the stairs.

Rachel's response is a knowing chuckle.

…

The next morning, Rachel is up earlier than usual. She has a lot to accomplish and worrying about it wakes her sooner than she'd planned. Because despite how calm she was in front of Santana last night, Rachel can't truly relax until every aspect of her back up plan has fallen into place. Of course, the problem is that Rachel couldn't pursue the final piece until she was actually caught.

She performs her usual morning rituals of working out and an epic chorus in the shower, knowing the familiar routine will help keep her calm. Downstairs she makes herself a cup of coffee and leaves some out and ready for Santana when she comes down, which should be soon, before climbing into her car and driving to school.

Knowing that the element of surprise can only work to her advantage, Rachel enters McKinley the moment the doors are unlocked. She hurries through the halls to Coach Sylvester’s office. The door is locked, but it’s easily picked and Rachel slips inside.

She sits in one of the chairs in front of Coach Sylvester’s desk, pulls out The Fountainhead and begins reading.

…

Sue’s door is open and her hackles are immediately up. There are only two likely reasons why her door is open and Sue, honestly, isn’t sure which she prefers.

“Good morning Coach Sylvester.”

Rachel Berry is sitting and apparently waiting for her.

“Berry,” Sue replies, sitting at her desk. “To what do I owe this early morning disruption?”

“I need to call in the favor you still owe me,” Berry says.

“For?”

“Principal Figgins caught myself and several others attempting to set up a prank late last night,” Berry explains.

Sue is actually surprised by this.

“I know,” Berry says. “I was, of course, prepared for such an occurrence, but wasn’t sure if Figgins would ever be able to think that outside the box.”

“Indeed,” Sue agrees. “You learns something new every day.”

“I was able to talk him down to holding me solely responsible,” Berry continues. “We’re supposed to discuss my punishment this morning.”

“And you want me to get you out of this,” Sue surmises.

Berry nods. “I can’t have a suspension or worse on my record.”

“Perhaps you should have thought of that before you started this.”

“Considering how long it took to be caught,” Berry says. “My banking on never being found out seems legitimate.”

“I can’t argue with that, I suppose,” Sue concedes.

“So you’ll help?” Berry asks.

“I will,” Sue nods. “But your punishment will most likely involve manual labor that benefits me.”

“I expected as much,” Berry smirks. “And I’m not afraid of a little hard work.”

“Figgins has to wait for a parent,” Sue tells Berry. “So I’m not sure how long he’ll make you sit in his office, but I’ll have my spies let me know when one of your parental units arrive.”

“Excellent,” Berry says, standing. “Thank you Coach.”

Sue nods. “I should have known that this is what you’d use the favor for.”

“A favor from you is a valuable thing, Coach,” Berry replies. “It has to be used for just the right purpose.”

“No need to explain, Berry,” Sue says. “Now get the hell out of my office.”

Berry nods again. “Thanks Coach.” And then the door is clicking shut behind her.

Sue stares at the shut door for a moment. Well at least today won’t be the usual boring Monday.

…

Michael Yellowhammer has already been working for an hour when he receives a call from his daughter's high school principal.

"She what?!"

Michael looks at his schedule for the day.

"I can be there at ten," Michael tells Figgins.

Hanging up the phone, Michael contemplates calling his husband. Jake is at a conference, so it's not like he'll be answering his cell. It'd probably be better to call after he has more information.

…

Santana wakes up alone and for a moment, believes she’s at home in her own bed. Sitting up reminds her that she spent the night at Rachel’s and got very little sleep. She listens for the sound of the shower running or Rachel downstairs making coffee, but the house is silent. Instead, Santana finds a folded note on the other pillow.

Santana, Sorry I didn’t wake you. I have some things to take care of, plus you looked like you needed the sleep. See you at school. Maybe. Otherwise, I’ll text as soon as I know something substantial. Love, Rachel

Great, so she’s going to spend the whole day worrying.

…

Rachel is at her locker when she's approached by Figgins.

"Ms. Berry," he says. "I spoke to one of your fathers—"

"Which?"

Figgins sighs. "Michael."

Rachel nods.

"And he said he would be here at ten."

"So you want me to come to your office at ten?" Rachel asks. "Will I need a pass for that?"

"Actually," Figgins replies. "You'll be waiting for him in the main office."

"Are you going to start bragging that you finally caught the prankster?"

"The attitude is not in your best interest, Ms. Berry," Figgins warns.

"Noted, Principal Figgins."

"Once the bell rings, I expect you in the office, Ms. Berry."

"Of course, Principal Figgins."

…

Santana’s worried. Just because Rachel claims that she has things under control, doesn’t mean that things will actually work out according to plan. Plus Santana sometimes worries that Rachel’s luck will run out eventually.

“Did Figgins suspend Rachel?” Artie asks, approaching Santana’s locker. “I haven’t seen her around.”

“No idea,” Santana replies. “I haven’t seen her either. And her cell is off.”

“This is all my fault,” Artie says. “I just got caught up in it all. I didn’t think about how much attention we’d be attracting.”

Santana doesn’t say anything, though she agrees. She’s also surprised that Rachel didn’t refuse to pull a group prank for that reason.

“He wouldn’t expel her, would he?” Artie questions. “Not three months from graduation.”

“Considering what an embarrassment the Prankster has been, anything’s possible.”

Both Artie and Santana turn to Mike who has just approached.

“Yeah, that’s my fear too,” Santana sighs.

“Why is her phone off?” Mike asks.

Santana shrugs.

“It’s a bad sign,” Artie says.

“Rach is a planner,” Mike adds. “She’ll be okay.”

“Unless Figgins is so frustrated with her that he comes down hard,” Artie replies. “Maybe we should go and be her character witnesses.”

Santana shakes her head. “Rachel said to stay out of it, that too many people will make things worse.”

“Figgins would probably punish us for even associating with the Prankster,” Mike adds.

…

Michael arrives at McKinley High School earlier than he planned. When he steps inside and makes his way towards Principal Figgins' office, he sees Rachel sitting there, obviously waiting. She looks up as he approaches.

“Father.”

“Daughter,” he replies. “May I speak with you out in the hall?”

She nods and marks her spot in her book. He follows her out as she walks until she finds a secluded corner of the school.

“I apologize,” she says. “That you had to be dragged into this. I have the situation under control.”

“Under control?” Michael questions. “Figgins wants to expel you.”

“I assumed as much,” Rachel nods.

Michael can only stare at her in disbelief. “I really don’t know you anymore.”

“Well, high school is a period of change,” Rachel replies.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Michael asks. “Did Lopez talk you into this?”

“Hardly,” Rachel scoffs.

“We will be having a lengthy discussion after this,” Michael warns.

“Principal Figgins will see you now.”

Both Michael and Rachel look up to find Figgins’ assistant in front of them. They both nod and follow her back to the office. Michael then follows Rachel into Figgins office and shuts the door.

“Mr. Yellowhammer,” Figgins starts. “Thank you for coming.”

Michael nods.

“Ms. Berry.”

“Principal Figgins.”

“I seem to remember you and I being in a very similar position last year.”

Michael raises his eyebrows as he watches his daughter nod.

“And you sat right there and lied to my face,” Figgins continues.

“Actually, I didn’t,” Rachel replies. “I actually just avoided answering the question.”

The fact remains,” Figgins scowls. “That you are the culprit of over fifty pranks over the last two years.”

Michael just stars at Rachel in shock.

“Semantics,” Rachel replies.

“Young lady, I’m not sure you understand the seriousness of the situation in which you find yourself.”

“Are you sure that you’re not making a mountain out of a mole hill?” Rachel counters.

“So your defense is that chaining the Cheerios to a gate, forcing us to cancel classes half a dozen times, putting up exploding piñatas or turning my office into a giant ball pit isn’t a big deal?”

Rachel nods. "Though to be fair, the ball pit wasn't me."

“Flippancy will not help your case,” Figgins informs her.

“Thankfully, I’m not trying to be flippant,” Rachel replies.

“Despite your glibness, this is a serious matter, Ms. Berry,” Figgins says. “And I will be disciplining you as such.”

Before he can continue, there’s a knock on his door and then Coach Sylvester sticks her head into the room.

“Sue, now really isn’t the time.”

“I’m here to discuss Berry, actually,” Sue replies.

Figgins seems confused. “Why?”

“I assume that you’re giving her a month of detention?”

“Why would you assume that?” Figgins asks.

“Because anything more severe seems unnecessary,” Sue tells him.

“Ms. Berry has cost us money and time, not to mention being a regular disruption to the school for almost two years.”

“I’m not sure I see your point,” Sue says.

“Feigning innocence is not the route to take,” Figgins replies.

“I’m simply saying that suspending or expelling Berry would be a grave mistake on your part,” Sue warns.

“Sue, if you’re attempting to threaten me…”

“You’ll know when I’m threatening you.”

Michael watches their attempt to outstare each other. It last longer than he expected. Finally Figgins blinks and then sighs. “I will take your suggestion under advisement.”

Sue nods. “Excellent.”

“Now if you don’t mind, Sue…”

“I’m going to stay actually. Just pretend like I’m not here.”

“Easier said than done,” Figgins mutters.

Sue smirks as she leans against the door.

“Ms. Berry,” Figgins starts. “My first instinct was to expel you. As I said before you’ve cost us a great deal of time and money as we've dealt with the consequences of your actions. However, I am also aware that you’re a senior, only a few months away from graduation and it seems cruel to expel you at this point, even if I feel that it would be justice—”

“Justice?” Michael questions. “What about the two years my daughter spent being slushied on an almost daily basis?”

“That is a totally different topic,” Figgins replies. “Not to mention it’s not an issue anymore.”

“Through no assistance from you,” Michael says.

“Anyway,” Figgins says. “I am instead leaning towards a two week suspension for Ms. Berry.”

“Two weeks?!”

“Please remain calm, Mr. Yellowhammer,” Figgins says.

“Two weeks is absurd,” Sue adds.

“I’m sorry,” Figgins says. “But I don’t believe that detention is a severe enough punishment. Even if it was daily for the rest of the year.”

“One week,” Michael counters.

“One week does seem more reasonable,” Sue agrees.

“This is not a negotiation,” Figgins replies.

Sue stands and approaches Figgins’ desk. “Actually it is,” she says as she leans on the desk. “Or rather, I’m here to tell you how it’s going to be.”

“Sue…”

Michael watches as another stare off is attempted. Figgins blinks first again and sighs. He then nods for Sue to continue.

“For you to save face,” Sue says. “Berry will be suspended for one week. That way you can announce that you’ve both caught and punished the prankster. However, it will not be going on Berry’s permanent record.”

“Sue, I hardly think that’s—”

“No one has to know,” Sue continues as if Figgins hadn’t spoken. “Except those in this room.”

“Sue…”

“Deny it all you want,” Sue says. “But we both know this is the best solution. It gives both parties involved what they want.”

“I do not care what Ms. Berry wants in this situation,” Figgins replies. “She has broken so many rules—”

“I’m not sure why you’re fighting this,” Sue says. “Who are you trying to save face in front of? Berry? Her dad? Because I assure you that the level of respect they have for you hasn’t changed since they walked in the room.”

Michael raises an eyebrow at the insult, but stays quiet.

“Sue, I’m warning you…”

Sue leans in closer and lowers her voice. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Very well,” Figgins says finally, voice full of resignation. “Ms. Berry, you are suspended the rest of the week. However, it will not appear on your permanent record.”

“Thank you Principal Figgins,” Rachel says.

“But step out of line once over the next three months and not even Coach Sylvester will be able to save you,” he continues. “Do we understand each other?”

Rachel nods.

“Very well. You may go to your locker if you need to, but after that, I do not want to see you for a week.”

“Understood.” Rachel stands.

“What guarantee do we have that this won’t go on Rachel’s permanent record?” Michael asks as he stands.

“Mine,” Sue says. “Right, Figgins?”

Figgins sighs. “Correct, Sue.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Rachel says.

Michael looks between the three of them, feeling almost helpless, because there’s obviously something here that he’s missing. He decides to trust Rachel’s judgment because she has the most to gain and possibly lose from the situation.

“Let’s go, Rachel,” Michael says. He then follows her out of Figgins’ office.

Part Two

fic: A Good Day

2013-01-27T16:07:32Z

Title: A Good Day
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, Brittany/Marisa, Quinn/Alyson
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It's Brittany's birthday.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count:~3,425
Spoilers: Not really.
A/N: Follows Some Variations on Pranks Past. Okay, so I couldn't find an exact date for Brittany's birthday, so I’m using Heather's. Same difference, right?
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.

series masterlist

When Brittany came to Rachel requesting she help set some things up for her birthday, Rachel knew the list would be unique. However, she can admit she still didn't expect anything on the list that Marisa has slid over to her. Not even the first request, which was definitely the easiest.

She let Santana handle it because she just doesn't have time for Quinn's defensive snark when she was trying to figure everything else out.

So when she wakes up Saturday morning, wrapped up in Santana's arms in her fathers' bed, she can't help but smile. It's so nice when everything works out.

Since Brittany's birthday was technically on Wednesday, the official celebration is happening today, though they did have a small party in glee on Thursday. It mostly consisted of singing and dancing to random songs and then having cupcakes.

Today, however, is Brittany's day, so Rachel gently pulls herself out of Santana's embrace, not wanting to wake her and slides out of bed.

"Were yo going?" Santana mumbles as quietly opens the door.

"Coffee," Rachel replies. "And breakfast."

Santana blinks a few times, trying to wake up. "I can help."

"It's okay, San," Rachel says. "Sleep a bit longer. You'll need it."

"Kay, babe."

Chuckling to herself, Rachel quietly closes the door and heads downstairs. She makes coffee, humming to herself, but careful not to make too much noise; there are still five other people in the house, sleeping.

It's a nice feeling. This house is rarely full; even when her dads were around, it was just the three of them and the house never felt full. She always wondered why they bought such a big house. Then again, in Lima there weren't that many options.

As she sits at the table reading the paper and drinking coffee, Rachel wonders who will be the first to appear. She knows she's a bit of an anomaly getting up so early on a Saturday, but there's a lot to do today and she wants to make sure that everything Brittany wants, happens.

Surprisingly, or maybe not since Rachel got up at eight, no one appears for over an hour. And it's not who Rachel was expecting.

"Morning," Alyson greets as she heads straight for the coffee.

"Good morning," Rachel replies.

Alyson sits down across from Rachel and takes several sips before speaking. "You make good coffee."

"Thank you." Rachel folds up the paper. "Is Quinn still sleeping?"

Alyson nods. "I thought about going back to sleep, but the lure of coffee was just too much."

"I understand," Rachel nods.

"Thanks for, you know, letting me stay again."

"You're always welcomed, Alyson, you know that."

"And thanks for inviting me to Brittany's, uh, birthday thing," Alyson adds.

"That was all Britt," Rachel replies. "She didn't want Quinn to feel like a fifth wheel today."

"That's sweet of her."

"Plus, you're kinda cool to have around."

Alyson and Rachel look up to find Brittany entering the kitchen.

"Thanks," Alyson says as Brittany opens the fridge and pulls out a bottle of orange juice.

"Good morning, Britt."

"No one else is up yet?" Brittany asks.

"I guess coffee isn't as good as lure as I was hoping," Rachel replies.

"Maybe pancakes would help," Brittany suggests.

"Is that what you want?" Rachel asks.

Brittany nods. "Blueberry?"

Rachel laughs as she stands. "I can manage that."

"You're the best Rachel."

"Don't you forget it," Rachel tells her as she pours herself more coffee.

Marisa stumbles downstairs next as Rachel's pouring the first pancake. She plops down next to Brittany at the table and half leans against her as she waves at Alyson.

"Not a morning person?" Alyson asks, smiling.

Marisa tries to shake her head, but it doesn't really work while leaning against Brittany. "Not really."

"But no coffee?"

"Never liked the stuff."

"College'll change that," Alyson replies. "You'll welcome the caffeine."

"Kid's got a couple more years to stay off the stuff, then," Santana says, entering the kitchen. "It stunts your growth."

"Is that why you're so short?" Marisa asks.

"One of the reasons." Santana presses herself against Rachel's back. "Morning babe."

"About time, lazy pants," Rachel smirks. "Some of us have been up for hours."

"Yeah, well, some of us are insane," Santana says, backing away slightly and moving towards the coffee pot. She leans against the counter. "Where's Fabray? Still sleeping? Ha! She never gets to call me lazy again."

"When has Quinn ever called you lazy?" Rachel asks.

"Cheerios practice," Brittany says. "As captain, she sometimes gets lazy with her motivating insults."

"She insults you guys?" Alyson questions.

Brittany nods. "But they're motivating insults."

"That sounds like an oxymoron," Alyson says.

"That's Quinn all right," Santana laughs.

"God it's too early in the morning to have to listen to you chortling," Quinn groans entering the kitchen.

Santana just grins and moves so Quinn can pour herself some coffee.

"Please tell me we're not eating rabbit food this morning," Quinn says as she sits down next to Alyson.

"Is your nose broken?" Santana asks. "My girl's making pancakes at B's request. Did you not smell them when you were less than a foot away?"

"Apparently not, S."

"Hush you two," Rachel admonishes. "Maybe your birthday gift to Britt could be getting along for a day."

"It's okay, Rach," Brittany says. "I don't mind. It's not their fault they're too chicken to just tell each other they love each other."

"Britt," Santana warns.

"We've talked about this, B," Quinn sighs.

"I have a theory that for whatever reason, they're both afraid to admit they actually care about each other and so instead they just insult the hell out of each other. It's cute."

"I am not cute," Santana growls.

"I am not a chicken," Quinn says.

"You're both ridiculous," Rachel adds.

"Please tell me there's pancakes," Alyson says. "So they'll both be quiet."

Quinn elbows Alyson.

"What? If I wanted to hear bickering all morning, I would have stayed at my parents'."

"That's certainly true," Rachel says as she sets a stack of pancakes on the table.

"Thank god," Marisa mutters.

"Nice job, Fabray," Santana says. "Even the kid is annoyed by you."

"You mean, you, S," Quinn retorts.

"If you two don't stop it, you won't get any more pancakes," Brittany interjects.

"Sorry Britt," they chime.

…

"So what's first?" Alyson asks as she plops down at the kitchen table.

After breakfast, everyone disappeared to get ready for the day. Rachel is done first, followed quickly by Alyson.

"Um, Britt wants it to be a surprise," Rachel replies.

"But everyone, but me and Quinn know what's on the magical list," Alyson says. "How much of a surprise is that?"

"She's got a point, babe," Santana says, entering the kitchen.

"Nonetheless, it's what Brittany wants," Rachel replies. "Besides, you only saw the list once for a few seconds. Do you remember what's on it?"

Santana takes a moment, but can't and shakes her head.

"So it stays a surprise until everyone's down here," Rachel says.

"God, Berry, you've been so mellow lately, I forgot how insanely bossy you can be," Quinn says sitting next to Alyson.

"Pot," Rachel says pointing to Quinn before pointing to herself. "Kettle."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Berry," Quinn grumbles.

Alyson laughs lightly. "Don't worry, Quinn, I love you anyway."

"What's taking those two so long?" Santana asks. "I thought for sure, B'd be the first one down here, ready to go."

"Maybe they're showering together," Alyson says. "You know, to save water."

"Why does everyone always say that?" Quinn asks.

Alyson shrugs. "They just do."

"Considering I was using Rachel's dads' shower, I don't think I'd even be comfortable even thinking about doing anything," Marisa says as she enters the kitchen.

"I don't see why not," Rachel says. "It's not like they use it that much anyway."

The kitchen gets quiet as Santana laces her fingers with Rachel's. No one knows what to say, since Rachel rarely brings up the lack of parental presence in her life.

Thankfully Brittany comes bouncing down the stairs a moment later. She goes directly to Rachel and gives her a big hug. When they pull apart, Brittany turns to everyone with a big smile.

"So who's driving?"

…

They take Santana's car with Brittany and Marisa in the front and Quinn, Alyson and Rachel in the back. Santana follows her girlfriend's quiet directions as they head out of town.

They eventually pull into the parking lot of Allen County Community Center. Everyone gets out, despite the confusion.

"Please tell me you didn't want to play wheelchair basketball, B," Quinn says as they follow Rachel inside.

Brittany shakes her head.

They watch as Rachel hands over her driver's license. The woman behind the counter disappears for a moment and they hear the sound of a copy machine. The woman returns, handing Rachel her license as well as a key chained to an orange Frisbee golf disc.

When they step inside the gym, no one knows what to expect, but seeing a giant wheel of cheese leaning against one wall isn't one of them.

"So, since Britt apparently spends too much time on the internet, we're going to do a couple things she found and has always wanted to try."

"Please tell me it doesn’t involve eating all that cheese," Alyson says. "Because we just had breakfast."

"Nope," Brittany shakes her head, grinning. "We're going to race it."

"I'm sorry, could you say that again, B?" Santana asks.

"We're going to race the cheese wheel," Brittany says. "It's what they do at the Gloucestershire Cheese-Rolling festival."

"Seriously?" Quinn asks.

Brittany nods. "You're supposed to race down a hill, but Rach figured this would be easier."

"Where did you get a wheel of cheese that big?" Alyson asks.

"Oh, it's not actually cheese," Rachel replies. "It's just a giant wagon wheel made to weigh and look the same. It can be put on that track." Rachel points to a stripe of metal running the length of the gym. "And then we race it. It's not exactly the same, but being authentic meant getting permits--"

"And you couldn't manage that, Berry?"

"Actually, I could have, but it would have taken too long. Besides, I'm not sure we want too many spectators."

"You just don't want anyone to see me beat you, Rachy."

"What does the winner get?" Alyson asks.

"This blue ribbon," Marisa answers, holding it up.

"Seriously, Berry?"

"It's not who wins, Quinn," Rachel tells her. "It's the fun of the sport."

"Uh huh. Whatever you say."

"Alyson," Rachel says. "Will you please get Quinn off of the negativity train she seems to be riding?"

Chuckling, Alyson playfully pulls Quinn aside as Rachel and Marisa begin to ready the fake wheel of cheese.

…

"So the timer is set," Rachel says. "And then the wheel will release at the same time as the buzzer goes off. It's as fair as I could make it."

The six of them are lined up on one side of the gym, toes just behind the out of bounds line. Brittany is practically bouncing as she waits for the signal.

"Everyone ready?" Rachel asks. When she receives general consensus back, she starts the timer.

Ten seconds later, the buzzer is going off and the cheese is released. It begins rolling as they all begin running.

Alyson finishes first, followed quickly by Brittany. Everyone else is a step or two behind. Still breathing heavily, Rachel maneuvers the wheel so it's leaning against the wall and won't fall over.

"Congrats," Brittany says to Alyson.

"Oh, well, thanks."

"You should have let her win," Quinn hisses, elbowing Alyson.

"No way, Quinn," Brittany interjects. "I'm not seven. I don't need to win. I just wanted to try it." She turns to Alyson. "Thanks for a good race."

Alyson smiles.

Marisa, meanwhile, has pulled out bottles of water from the backpack she brought. After giving everyone else one, she takes one for herself and quickly gulps down half the bottle.

"You okay, kid?"

Marisa, nods, smiling slightly at Santana. "My fault. Shouldn't have raced four athletes and an insane exercising freak. Theater doesn’t keep me in as good of shape as you guys are."

"Well, you did just fine."

"Thanks. Thankfully the next activity won't be so taxing--"

"Yeah?"

"Well, for me," Marisa finishes.

Santana raises an eyebrow and turns to Rachel, curious.

…

"I'm sorry, but could you repeat that."

"We're going to try wife carrying next," Brittany repeats.

"None of us are married," Quinn says.

"That's your argument?" Alyson chuckles.

"Why?" Santana asks.

"Because it'll be fun."

"I'm getting super curious about how you spend your time online," Alsyon says.

"You can only look at pictures of cute puppies and kitties for so long," Brittany shrugs.

The four of them watch from the bleachers as Rachel and Marisa finish setting up the obstacle course.

"I just can't believe that racing a fake wheel of cheese isn't going to be the oddest thing I do today," Quinn says.

…

"Okay," Rachel says, once she and Marisa finish. "It's pretty simple, but just so we're all on the same page, I'll go through it."

"Good idea, Rachy."

"You start there." Rachel points to one corner of the gym. "You run one lap and then follow the cones, weaving through them. Then you have to run up and then down the bleachers. Next, you wade through the collections of sports balls and then you sprint to the door to finish. Whoever touches the door first, wins."

"And what do we win this time?" Quinn asks.

"This exciting bottle of tequila," Marisa says, holding it up.

"Not bad, Berry."

"How come I only got a ribbon then?" Alyson asks.

"Because the Gloucestershire Cheese-Rolling festival doesn't have a prize, but wife carrying contests usually do," Rachel answers.

"Like the wife's weight in beer," Marisa pipes up.

"So figure out who's carrying who and we'll start in a few minutes," Rachel says. "And don't forget the person being carried should wear a helmet."

…

They line up in the corner as Rachel moves the buzzer in place. Even without the fake wheel of cheese, the buzzer will still work, giving them ten seconds before going off.

Rachel climbs onto Santana's shoulders and they join the others at the line. She grins at Marisa and Alyson, who are on Brittany's and Quinn's back respectively, with brightly colored bike helmets on their heads. Rachel'd been curious about Alyson and Quinn. Alyson probably has better stamina because of the soccer, but Quinn's additional two inches of height seems to make her the more likely candidate to be the carrier.

"Everyone ready?" Rachel asks.

Brittany's yeah is enthusiastic, while Quinn's is a bit disgruntle.

"Let's win this, babe," Santana whispers.

Rachel nods and hits the button.

Brittany takes an early lead, which Rachel contributes to her height, since she's only a step or two ahead of her fellow Cheerios. The cones keep Brittany slightly in the lead that she somehow manages to increase as she bolts up the bleachers. Wading through soccer, volly, basket, foot, and rubber balls slow her down and let Quinn and Santana, who were neck and neck catch up.

The final sprint is a little hectic and Rachel does her best to just hold on. She knows Santana hates losing to Quinn, so she tries to make herself as aerodynamic as possible.

Brittany and Marisa finish two steps ahead of Santana and Rachel, who is basically being matched step by step by Quinn and Alyson.

Before arguing between Quinn and Santana gets to be too much, Brittany declares it a tie.

"Congrats, B," Santana says, half leaning against her best friend.

"I feel a bit obsolete," Alsyon grins.

"It was kinda fun, though, right?" Marisa asks.

Alyson nods. "Congratulations."

"Like I had anything to do with it," Marisa says. "But thanks."

"We can always go again and switch," Rachel offers.

"No thanks," Marisa says.

"Yeah, I'm good," Alyson says.

Rachel just grins.

…

"Please tell me the next activity involves sitting," Santana says as they drink water on the bleachers.

"It does, indeed," Rachel agrees.

"Good."

…

"I didn't realize that we were celebrating your seventy-second birthday, B," Quinn says as they walk into the Bingo hall.

"Don't be like that, Q," Brittany replies. "It'll be fun."

…

"So it's all on the machine?" Quinn asks.

Rachel nods.

"And we all have to do is yell out Bingo if we win?" Quinn continues.

Rachel nods again.

"Weird," Quinn says.

"It seems to make it easier to play multiple," Marisa says.

"But there are still paper sheets," Alyson points out.

"It'll be fun," Brittany says. "And if the machine does all the work, then I won't mess up."

"B," Santana says. "Well all know you're smarter than you act."

"Oh. Right. Sorry. Habit."

…

They end up having a great time. Quinn and Santana can't help but cattily mock the other players around them. Brittany can't stop fiddling with her machine, changing her blotting symbol over and over. Alyson gets a little too competitive and Marisa actually wins fifty dollars.

An official stops at their table with a wad of cash. "Twenty, thirty, forty, forty-five, fifty. Congratulations."

"Thanks," Marisa says, picking up the money.

"Nice job, kid."

"Yeah, it was really tough to call out Bingo like I did," Marisa quips.

"Yeah, well, I'm totally winning the last round," Alyson says.

"The full card?" Rachel questions. "That's a tough one."

"But the prize is five hundred," Alyson replies.

"Keep hoping, Aly," Quinn adds.

…

Alyson doesn't win, but they still leave in a good mood.

"Please tell me food is next on the list," Quinn says.

"It is," Rachel says. "Where are we going, Britt?"

"Back to your house, actually."

"Okay, back to the car, then."

…

While everyone heads inside, Brittany goes to her car and pulls out a large paper bag. Inside, she sets it on the counter.

"So what's next?" Santana asks.

"I had my mom make lasagna," Brittany answers. "It just has to be headed up. She also made a small bit of eggplant parmesan for you, Rach. Totally vegan."

"Aw, thanks, Brittany."

…

After a boisterous dinner, each couple goes their separate ways for a little alone time at Brittany's insistence.

"Thanks for coming down," Quinn says as she slips into bed with Alyson.

"I'm glad it just worked out," Alyson replies. "Plus it was nice of Britt to invite me; even if it was more for you than me."

"I don't know about that," Quinn says. "B might like you better than me."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Well, next time, I'm coming to see you, right?"

"Exactly," Alyson says. "My roommate's gonna be gone in a few weeks and you're driving up."

"Can't wait."

…

Brittany and Marisa curl up in Rachel's bed.

"Did you have a good birthday?" Marisa asks.

"One of the best."

"I'm glad." Marisa lets herself be spooned. "Brittany?"

"Yeah?"

"Is it okay that we don't, uh, that we haven't…"

"Whenever you're ready, Maris," Brittany replies. "You know that."

"I just don't want to be a disappointment."

Brittany tightens her grip around Marisa. She wants to look at her, but knows her girlfriend is more comfortable having the conversation this way.

"Well I haven't been yet," Brittany says.

"Yeah, well--"

"And do you know why that is?"

"Because it's things I already had experience with?"

"No. And that's not entirely true." Brittany can't keep the smirk off her face. "I just want to be with you. I really like you, Marisa."

"I really like you too, Brittany."

"So whenever you're ready is fine. As long as the kissing continues, I'm happy."

Marisa turns in Brittany's embrace.

"Really?"

Brittany nods.

"Happy birthday Brittany."

"That it is," Brittany replies, leaning in for a kiss.

…

"I think today went well," Rachel says.

"I do too," Santana agrees. "And though I think it's great that you're letting everyone stay here, do we really have to be the ones in your dads' room?"

"It has to be us," Rachel replies. "Unless you want to sleep on the couch."

"Considering how much they hate me, maybe," Santana says. "What happens when they find out?"

"Are you going to tell them?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Santana scoffs.

"Then'll be fine."

"If you say so."

"Do you think Britt had a good day/"

"We did everything on her list, didn't we?"

"We did."

"So it was a good day, then."

"Yeah, it really was."

fic: Some Variations on Pranks Past

2013-01-27T15:56:12Z

Title: Some Variations on Pranks Past
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, Puck, Artie, Brittany/Marisa, Mike/Wendy, Tina
Rating: PG-13
Summary: "So what? Now you're some sort of prank wish full filling fairy?" Santana asks.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~9,175
Spoilers: just references to previous stories.
A/N: Follows Worrisome to Watch. Puck's prank idea came from bradstev, though I tweaked it a bit based off of Wizards of Waverly Place 3x11.
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.

series masterlist

Monday morning, Santana is shocked to realize that Coach Sylvester is going easy on her. She actually pinches herself to make sure she's not dreaming. Or suffering from a severe concussion.

The pain is real and sharp, so apparently her girlfriend's power of persuasion knows no bounds, especially if she was able to convince Coach Sylvester to actually relax, even if it's just a smidge.

Santana finds this incredibly hot. She wishes she wasn't still sore because it's going to be really tough to keep her hands off Rachel the rest of the day.

…

Rachel supposes she shouldn't be surprised when Artie corners her Monday morning, demanding that they pull a prank together, though she is. She expected him to come up with a group idea first for some reason. He'd been so gung ho about it during winter break.

She agrees to meet him during lunch in the choir room so they can talk.

…

Santana's becoming paranoid. It feels like everyone's staring at her. She knows no one can see the bruises; she made sure of that before leaving the house this morning. And no one commented during Cheerios' practice.

Though, upon reflection, she does remember getting some odd looks from the others in the locker room.

She'll have to ask Britt if she heard anything.

…

Of course privacy doesn't seem to be something they've earned today. When Artie and Rachel enter the choir room, they find Brittany in the corner making out with Marisa.

"Sorry," Rachel says.

Marisa buries her head against her girlfriend's shoulder, while Brittany response is to smirk.

"We'll just go somewhere else," Rachel tells them.

"Nah," Brittany replies. "Marisa supposed to be having lunch with her Chem lab partner to go over a project anyway. I should probably stop distracting her.”

Rachel looks at Marisa who nods her confirmation. Still she asks, "You sure?"

Brittany nods as she pulls Marisa up with her. "See you guys." And then Brittany drags Marisa out of the room.

"That was…random," Artie says.

"That's Britt," Rachel shrugs.

"So I have an idea, but I'm not sure if it's too crazy," Artie says as they settle down to eat.

"All right."

Artie pulls out a sandwich. "At first I wanted to flood the school, but I thought that just might be too dangerous. So how about we flood it with marbles? Just like ankle deep."

"And what happens when someone opens the door?" Rachel asks.

"Hmmm. Good point," Artie agrees. "I guess we'd have to put up damns of sort."

"That would work," Rachel says. "We'll have to figure out what to use, how tall the damns should be, how to attach it and how we're going to get all the stuff here."

"Well the Durango can carry a lot," Artie says.

"That it does," Rachel agrees. "Um… Are you going to be able to wheel through marbles with your chair?"

"I don't know," Artie replies. "I've never tried."

"That might need to be investigated," Rachel tells him.

They spend the rest of lunch planning as Artie's giddiness seems to increase.

…

Santana's thankful that Brittany's already in the lunch room when she arrives. Her paranoia is reaching epic levels.

"Hi S," Brittany chirps when Santana sits next to her.

"Hey B."

"What's wrong?"

"People are weird today," Santana replies.

"People are weird every day."

"I know, but everyone's been extra weird around me today."

"Everyone's afraid of you," Quinn growls, sitting across from Santana.

"Why?"

"Because thanks to Wendy Kory, everyone knows that you kicked the ass of a three hundred pound boxer this weekend."

"Of course."

"Man the whole school is buzzing about you, Santana,” Mike says, sitting next to Quinn.

“Because your damn girlfriend can’t keep her mouth shut,” Santana retorts.

“In fairness, did you tell her to?” Brittany questions.

“No,” Santana grumbles.

“I don’t see why you’re pissed,” Quinn says. “You’re officially the scariest person at McKinley at the moment.”

“Well I don’t want to be,” Santana hisses. “I just wanted to finish the semester and escape this hell hole.”

“Well then you should have informed your entourage of that,” Mike says.

“I didn’t want a damn entourage to begin with,” Santana tells him.

“After lunch, can we see if the hallway parts for you?” Brittany asks. “Like the Red Sea?”

“Seriously B?”

“No bible references, please,” Quinn says.

“You’ve always been a BAMF,” Mike adds. “What’s the difference now?”

“If you show people all your strong cards, it’s tougher to out maneuver them, later,” Santana answers.

“We have four months left,” Quinn points out. “How much maneuvering do you really need to do?”

Santana grins. “You have no idea.”

“Ominous,” Mike mutters.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Quinn demands.

”Santana’s got her fingers in a lot of pies,” Brittany offers.

"Dirty," Mike mutters, grinning.

“Because now you’re part of some big con—“

“Yeah,” Santana interrupts Quinn. “Something like that.”

Santana and Quinn share a hard stare for a moment.

“I think I liked it better when I didn’t know anything,” Quinn says, blinking.

“Ignorance is bliss,” Brittany says.

…

Artie gives Rachel a ride home after school, so they can discuss specifics of the prank.

Artie's excitement shows and they spend the short drive from McKinley singing along to the radio at the top of their lungs.

They spend the afternoon planning and plotting. They seem to be on the same page, though Rachel does have to rein Artie in a bit sometimes. His ideas and ambitions are a bit out of their abilities. Still, it's never hostile; Artie seems to bow to Rachel's experience gained knowledge gracefully.

It's a fun afternoon and as she walks Artie out, Rachel feels a bit of sadness that they don't have the four years of friendship in their history that she'd always hoped for. But not one to dwell in the past, Rachel decides to just enjoy the next four months.

Better late than never, right?

…

Santana is very surprised that Rachel doesn’t bring up her new status at school. At first, she thinks that maybe Rachel hasn’t heard, but she quickly dismisses that. If nothing else, Britt would have told her.

And then Santana wonders if anyone treated Rachel any different because of the rumors floating around about her. Santana prays that, if so, it wasn’t too negative.

Not that Rachel can’t take care of herself.

“You’re quiet,” Santana says finally.

“Long day, I suppose.”

“Yeah?”

“Nothing too unusual,” Rachel continues. “Today just felt more hectic than other Mondays.”

“So no one gave you a hard time today?” Santana asks.

“And risk the wrath of my girlfriend, the biggest, bitchiest badass on the block?”

“Um…”

“No one would risk that, tiger,” Rachel says. “Your rep may become the stuff of legends, I think.”

Santana groans.

“I would have thought you’d be pleased.”

Santana sighs. “I would have thought so, too. But everyone was so damn awkward around me today. It’s annoying.”

“You say that like you’re not annoyed with people at McKinley on a daily basis.”

Santana snorts. “Yeah. Yeah. I know.”

Rachel is quiet for a moment before asking, "Are you mad that everyone knows or that the decision was taken from you?"

Santana sighs. "The second one."

"I know it's not ideal, but it'll be okay."

"I just can't wait until we're out of here," Santana replies. "Out there conquering the world, leaving Lima in our dust."

"That does sound lovely," Rachel agrees. "Only a few more months."

Santana wonders about the wistfulness she nears in Rachel's voice. It's not as if she actually likes Lima. She supposes it's just another random bout of nostalgia that Rachel seems to have lately.

…

The biggest obstacle to pulling off Artie’s prank is waiting for the materials. She appreciates his ambition, but Rachel wonders if he realizes how much work they have ahead of them.

Probably not.

Rachel supposes he’ll know soon enough. She wonders if all the effort will stop him from wanting to pull a group prank.

Again, probably not.

It’ll just mean he wants more help. And though Rachel knows she’ll say yes, it worries her. More people also equals more problems.

…

“Morning Rach.”

“Oh, hello, Mike.”

“Do you have a sec?”

“For you? Always,” Rachel replies, closing her locker.

They walk down the hall, side by side and end up in the choir room.

“So what’s up?”

“You remember over break when Artie suggested a group prank and you agreed?”

“I do,” Rachel nods.

“Does that mean you’d be up for pulling one with me?”

“I take it you have something in mind?” Rachel prompts.

Mike nods eagerly. “I was hoping you could get a hold of that catapult again.”

“Probably,” Rachel replies. “Though I’m not sure I approve repeating a prank.”

“It’s not a repeat,” Mike insists. “It’s a variation of pranks past.”

Rachel doesn’t bother holding back her chuckle.

“Laugh all you want, but it sounded good in my head.”

“Fine. I’ll look into the catapult situation and we can talk next week? Okay?”

“Works for me,” Mike says. “Thanks Rach.”

…

There's a small part of Rachel that feels bad about the fear that Santana's very presence seems to cause. She mostly ignores it and tries to enjoy the perks of dating the scariest bitch in school.

Digging through her locker, Rachel almost misses the slight cough that announces the Cheerios' presence. Leaning slightly around her locker door she finds two familiar faces staring back.

"Wendy. Missy."

"Hi Rachel," Wendy waves.

"Hey Berry."

After a moment, Rachel asks, "Is there something specific you wanted? Or are you just here to stare at me?"

"We just wanted to thank you," Wendy says.

"For what?"

"Stopping Santana from kicking the crap out of us and then throwing us in a dumpster," Wendy answers.

"I don't think Cheerios are allowed to be thrown in dumpsters," Rachel tells her. "But you're welcome."

"Be honest with me, Rach," Missy says.

"All right."

"Even though both Wendy and Mike have confirmed it for me," Missy says. "I'm still not sure I believe it. I mean, I know Lopez is badass as hell, otherwise you wouldn't be with her. But there's no way in hell she won that chess boxing match."

"Why not?"

"Second in command to Fabray?" Missy questions. "I just don't see it. The enforcer just doesn't have it in her."

Rachel sighs. Closing her eyes, she counts to ten slowly. When she opens her eyes again, they are dark and angry. "Missy. You need to stop talking. Because if you don't, I'll be forced to do something unpleasant to you and I'm in a bit of a hurry this morning."

"Rachel she didn't mean anything by it," Wendy tries.

"That's nice of you to say, Wendy," Rachel replies. "But we both know that's not true."

"Your girl can take care of herself, you know," Missy smirks.

"I know she can," Rachel says. "But that didn't stop me from raining hell down on the last girl to insult San in my presence. And unless you apologize, I'm afraid I'll be forced to seek vengeance."

Missy scoffs and then bursts out laughing at the determined look on Rachel's face. This earns a sharp elbow from Wendy, who looks very concerned.

"Last chance, Watters," Rachel warns.

Missy is now laughing so hard that she's leaning against the lockers.

Rachel turns to Wendy. "I did warn her, right?"

Wendy nods.

"Okay then. I'll see you two around."

…

Santana's surprised to find Rachel already at lunch, sitting on a table and facing the entrance of the lunch room.

"Hey babe," she greets. "What's up?"

"Oh good you made it before the show started," Rachel says.

"What show?"

"Did it happen yet?" Brittany asks.

"No, but I figure any moment now," Rachel answers.

"What the hell are you two crazies talking about?" Santana demands.

"Rachel's defending your honor again," Brittany whispers loudly.

"Do I even want to know?"

"I don't know, San," Brittany replies. "Do you?"

Santana has no idea, so she joins Rachel and Brittany and watches the door.

A few minutes later, Missy Watters and Wendy Kory enter with a couple other Cheerios. A moment later, Puck and Mike appear. They push their way towards Missy and pick her up; Mike has her legs and Puck slips his arms under hers and they carry her out of the lunch room.

The moment that Puck and Mike appear, Rachel is standing. As they exit the lunch room, Rachel immediately follows, as does Brittany and a still puzzled Santana. A number of others in the lunch room trail after them.

The entire time, Rachel tries not to smirk too much as she hears Missy struggling, screaming, cursing and trying to get away. She supposes this is a bit cruel, but she's tired of dealing with Missy. Wendy isn't so bad; if Mike likes her, then Rachel can too; but Missy has earned no such leniency. Rachel also hates that she thinks being a Cheerio will protect her.

They end up on the football field where a dumpster sits. When Missy sees it, she really starts struggling and screaming to be let go. No one responds, simply following and watching.

Though she's glad no one's offering to help, Rachel finds herself disgusted with the sheep that she's surrounded by.

"How come none of the Cheerios or jocks are helping her?" Tina asks, suddenly appearing at Rachel's side.

"They know my wrath is more fearsome," Rachel smirks. "Besides, who's going to stop Noah and Mike?"

"Good point," Tina chuckles.

Instead of tossing her in, like everyone expects, the guys raise Missy high enough so they can hold her over the dumpster. They then slowly lower her down, which is extremely difficult with her fighting and hollering. Rachel figures her increase in volume is due to now knowing her fate.

When Puck and Mike let go, everyone else is shocked when they hear a splashing noise.

"What the fuck?" Santana says.

"Oh, it's filled with grape slushie," Rachel says. "Crude and over done I know, but I was in a bit of a hurry this morning. It makes my point well, though, I believe."

"And what exactly was your point?" Santana asks.

"That speaking ill of you isn't a wise idea," Rachel answers. "Besides, even after everything, she's still not backing down, not completely. I suppose I got tired of it."

"What did she say?"

"She implied that you're all brawn and no brain."

"She wouldn't be the first," Santana says.

"Perhaps," Rachel agrees. "But I gave her several opportunities to apologize and she didn't. So I took action."

"Thanks babe."

They, along with everyone else, watch as Missy struggles in the slushie as she tries to get out.

"I take it you guys emptied the dumpster?"

"Actually, apparently my bro here knows when the dumpster is emptied," Puck says joining them.

"That is so weird babe," Santana says.

"Knowledge is power."

"Are you quoting School House Rock?" Tina asks.

"So? That doesn't make it any less true."

"No judgment here," Tina replies. "Just checking."

"How did you get that much slushie so quickly?" Brittany asks.

"Technically it's just shaved ice from the ice arena," Rachel replies. "And then I added red and blue food coloring."

"Should we be concerned about her dying of hypothermia?" Mike asks. "After all, it is January."

"Nah," Rachel says. "Help should be coming any moment."

The others follow her line of sight as two janitors appear on the field with a ladder and some towels. Everyone watches as they set the ladder in the dumpster and Missy gingerly crawls out. They hand her a few towels which she immediately wraps around herself and runs inside. They used the left over towel to clean the ladder off and then head back inside the school.

"Huh," Puck says. "Did that really happen?"

"Thanks for your help, guys," Rachel says. "Couldn’t have done it without you."

"Uh huh."

"Course, bro," Puck replies. "Anything to get that chick off your back."

"Where did you get all that food coloring so fast?" Tina asks.

"Apparently McKinley is ready for a ton of Easter egg dying," Rachel replies. "There's tons in the kitchen."

"How did you know that?" Mike asks.

"How do you think?"

"Right. Prankster snooping."

"Do you really think this will get her to back off?" Brittany asks. "She's rather tenacious."

Rachel chuckles as Tina, Mike and Puck look stunned at Brittany's word choice. "We can only hope."

…

When Rachel enters glee that afternoon, almost everyone else is there already. She sits in the front row next to Artie and Tina and then watches in amusement as Kurt and Mercedes stand and move to the back far corner.

"I take it they heard about Missy," Rachel says to Tina.

She nods. "Of course. The whole school is buzzing. Though most people think it was Santana, not you."

"I figured as much."

"Aren't you worried that people will start to put things together?" Mike asks, sitting down next to Rachel.

"Dumping someone in a dumpster full of slushie is hardly creative," Rachel replies.

"I think he means your ability to pull things together so quickly," Artie interjects. "I mean, I assume whatever upset you happened this morning."

"And not yesterday," Tina continues. "That means you set all that up before lunch."

"I mean if it was just me and Puck throwing someone in a dumpster, that's no big deal," Mike says. "But the slushie and the janitors, well, that's impressive."

"Perhaps," Rachel allows. "But the idiots at this school are impressed by shiny objects."

"Still, maybe you should be a bit more careful, Rach," Artie says.

"Says the guy who blurted it out in a room full of people," Rachel retorts.

Artie grins, embarrassed. "I really thought everyone knew."

"It's fine, Artie," Rachel replies. "But you see my point?"

"We're just concerned, Rach," Mike says.

"Really," Tina adds.

Rachel sighs. "Fine. Perhaps I let my temper get away from me for a moment. I won't let it happen again."

Their conversation is halted when Mr. Schue enters the choir room, only five minutes late.

…

"Just when I think you're the awesomest girlfriend ever, you go and do something even more crazy and more awesome," Santana says as she drives to Rachel's after glee.

"Awesomest is not a word, Santana," Rachel chastises.

"I know. You're so amazing that I have to make up words to describe you, babe."

"Sweet talker."

"I mean, seriously," Santana continues. "Was all that really because she called me stupid?"

"Yes."

"Hmph. Probably should have just stuck with slut like everyone else."

"That would have garnered a similar response," Rachel replies.

"I don't see why," Santana says. "She wouldn't be the first or the last. Seems like a whole hell of effort."

"You'd be worth all that effort even if she just implied you were a slut, San," Rachel says, turning in her seat to face Santana. "I just hate that no one sees all your amazing potential, tiger. You're so much more than they see you as."

"I could say the same about you, babe."

"See. Sweet talker."

…

Sue is surprised to find Missy Kory waiting for her when she arrives Wednesday morning. Not only is it insanely early, but Sue can count on one hand the number of times she’s seen Kory without Watters; not that she keeps track of that sort of thing.

Sue ignores her as she sits at her desk. The blonde follows and sits quietly in one of the chairs in front of Sue’s desk. Sue continues to go through her usual morning routine. She feels Missy’s eyes on her, but ignores then until it becomes too irritating.

“What?!”

“I need retribution.”

“Pardon?”

“I was mega slushied yesterday,” Missy says. “I need retribution.”

“How is that my problem?”

“I thought Cheerios were above all that,” Missy continues. “And as the highest authority at this school, I was hoping you could step in and rectify the situation.”

“I don’t believe that anything needs to be rectified,” Sue replies.

“So what? Because she’s Lopez’s girlfriend, she’s immune?”

“I’m sure Berry had her reasons,” Sue says.

“So you’re not going to take any action against her?”

“If Berry slushied you, then I’m sure you more than deserved it,” Sue replies. “Having been on the receiving end of dozens, she wouldn’t do it to someone else without reason.”

“What if it was a stupid reason?” Missy asks.

“Was it?”

“I, uh… I think it was.”

“And what was it?” Sue asks.

“Um, well, what it was, isn’t important,” Missy stutters.

“Well then retribution isn’t necessary, is it?” Sue questions, smirking. “So none will be handed out by me. And if I hear of you trying anything, I’ll have no problem kicking you off the squad.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t I?”

Missy tries to keep Sue’s stare, but after a few seconds, she lets her eyes drop.

“Dismissed,” Sue says.

Missy nods dejectedly and slumps out.

…

Wednesday during lunch, Rachel finds herself in Coach Sylvester's office.

"I thought slushies were banned," she says to Rachel.

"Technically, it was shaved ice and food coloring," Rachel answers.

"And you think those cretins realize that?"

"Hardly," Rachel scoffs. "But if you're concerned about this being a sign that the ban can be broken, I doubt it."

"Or you opened up my Cheerios for attack."

"Good. It's nice to see the shoe on the other foot, so to speak."

"Look, I've put up with you messing with the social order because I found it amusing and it hasn't meddled with my plans," Coach Sylvester says. "But if this shake up affects their performances, I may have to reconsider my position on you Berry."

"No offense, Coach, but if they're Cheerios, shouldn't they be used to so much more abuse?" Rachel questions. "After all, you're hardly… sweet to them."

"You're right about that," Coach Sylvester agrees. "But what about next year after you're gone? Do you really think this ban is going to last?"

Rachel doesn't answer immediately. "I suppose I never thought about that."

"You have to be careful how you wield the power, Berry," Coach Sylvester says.

"I'll keep that in mind, Coach."

…

Friday morning, Rachel is practically accosted at her locker by an exuberant Artie.

"I take it that they've arrived," Rachel says.

"Planning session at lunch?"

"You've figured out those specifics?"

Artie nods.

"See you then."

"Later Rach," Artie says, before speeding down the halls.

Watching him, Rachel shakes her head, a bit of disbelief at his excitement.

…

"So you and Artie have been spending a lot of time together," Puck says Friday night.

They're playing Rampage on the old Nintendo because Puck claimed he was feeling nostalgic and bored.

"I suppose," Rachel replies. "I think this prankster thing has made me much more interesting to him."

"That's awful cynical of you, bro," Puck says. "I mean, you're cool to hang with."

"Says the guy who only started hanging out with me after I handcuffed my girlfriend to a bed," Rachel replies wryly.

"Not just any girl though," Puck says. "Santana fucking Lopez."

"So?"

"Don't pretend you don't know why that's a big deal, Rach," Puck tells her. "It's insulting to me, your girl and yourself."

"That's a lot of insulting I just did."

…

Knowing she has an exhausting night ahead of her, Rachel sleeps in Sunday morning. She and Santana spend most of the day in bed at Santana's prompting, though Rachel doesn't even pretend to argue.

Spending time like this with Santana is more than Rachel ever hoped for from her high school romance. She feels like she's found the one and it scares her. Does she feel this way because it's true or because her youth and romantic notions are telling her so?

Wrapped up in Santana's arms, basking in the afterglow, Rachel can't imagine feeling any more complete with anyone else. Maybe ending it with Santana is a bad idea. After all, high school romances do sometimes last. She and Santana are certainly tenacious enough to fight for the relationship. That was certainly proven last year with all the obstacles thrown their way.

Santana seems willing to fight, so where is Rachel's reluctance coming from?

…

Citing a busy week, Rachel doesn't spend the night at the Lopez house. Instead when she arrives home, she changes into all black and begins to load her car with the necessary materials. Just before midnight, she heads to McKinley. The streets are deserted as usual.

When she arrives, she begins unloading and setting up as she waits for Artie. The dark red Durango appears moments later, so they quickly enter the building and begin setting up. Having already planned everything out, they get done rather quickly and so they head back out to the parking lot for the final stash of golf balls that is in Artie's Durango.

Artie back the vehicle as close to the side door as possible. Rachel sets up the ramp with walls she made. Artie then unlocks the back and they both watch as the golf balls begin rolling down the ramp and into the school.

It barely makes a dent and Artie is extremely glad that Rachel insisted that they didn't bring all the of the golf balls over tonight. It's exhausting to just think about.

Instead, he hands Rachel a rope ladder and puts away the ramp as Rachel heads back inside. After making sure that all traces of them have been removed, Rachel heads up to the roof.

There she finds the one hundred and thirty tons of golf balls that she and Artie have managed to smuggle onto the roof. Considering there are over one hundred and fifty thousand golf balls up here, Rachel still can't believe no one noticed. She wonders if it's because it's winter; after all, everyone just assumed all the white was snow.

She finds the vent that leads down into the auditorium and opens it. She then starts the flow of golf balls and listens as they all roll down the vent and into the school. As she watches the balls fall, she hopes they didn't miss a door. To make sure the golf balls flood the entire school, even the bathrooms and teachers' offices, every day in the school had to be opened. Having attended McKinley for nearly four years, Rachel's pretty sure that she and Artie found every one, but it only takes them missing one for things to not work out exactly right.

When every single ball has gone through the vent, Rachel closes the vent and walks to the edge of the building. She secures the rope ladder on two large hooks and lets it drop down the side of the building. She then begins the slow and awkward process of climbing down.

The ladder's not quite long enough and she has to drop the last six feet. Artie finds an old mattress and sets it under her. As she hits it with a grunt, she tries not to think about where Artie found the mattress, or how he managed to get it where it needed to be. She quickly climbs off and then helps Artie return it to the dumpster. It's awkward and grueling, but somehow they manage it.

There's still some time to get some sleep before school, so they part with a fist bump, get into their vehicles and drive home.

…

Rachel supposes arrives at school the next morning with Artie might look suspicious, but she figures only to those who know to look.

Once again, most of the school is outside waiting in the parking lot. Considering the weather, most people look pretty pissed.

"What's the hold up?" Artie asks Tina, who's standing with Kurt and Mercedes.

"Prankster," Kurt answers.

"If school's going to be canceled, we should just go," Artie says. "I mean, it's freezing out here. They can't expect us to stay out here and wait while they… I don't know."

"For once, I'm annoyed with the prankster," Mercedes pipes up. "I appreciate the warning that we may be standing outside for a while, but can't Santana have chosen something that wouldn't keep us outside in the cold all morning."

"How many times am I going to have to deny that I'm the prankster," Santana says, appearing next to Rachel. She laces their hands together. "Besides, this was obviously done by someone more insane than me."

"What makes you say that?" Artie asks.

"And if you're not the prankster, then how do you know what the prank is?" Kurt asks.

"I don't," Santana replies. "But standing outside in the middle of winter is not my idea of a good time. So no matter what it is, making us wait out here is insane."

Rachel lightly elbows Santana.

"I think it's fun," Brittany adds. "We should have a snow ball fight or something."

"We're not making snow angels, Britt," Rachel says.

"You never let me have any fun, Rachy," Brittany pouts.

"So I don't think school's going to be canceled," Puck says, joining the group.

"Then what's the hold up?" Mercedes asks.

"Seems that the entire school is filled ankle deep with golf balls."

"Golf balls?" Kurt questions.

"That's what I heard."

"That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," Kurt says.

"Seriously?" Tina asks. "Of all the things that the prankster has pulled, this is the most ridiculous?"

"Yeah, it almost seems tame," Mercedes adds.

"I'm a fan of the never ending orange line," Brittany says.

"You would be," Rachel teases.

Brittany just smirks.

"What makes you say that they're sending us home, Puckerman?" Santana asks.

Puck shrugs. "Just overheard some stuff."

"If it's golf balls, why don't they just open the doors?" Mercedes asks. "Yeah, it'll be a lot of fucking golf balls, but if they open the gym doors, it's not like too much damage will be done."

"Apparently there are damns set up in each door way," Puck explains. "And they can't remove them."

"The janitors don't have screw guns?" Artie asks. "Because then this school has the worst budget ever."

"I'm willing to bet they're not just screwed down," Santana says.

"Because you know how they were attached," Kurt interrupts.

"Because otherwise, we wouldn't still be standing out here," Santana finishes.

"Oooh, maybe they used crazy glue," Brittany says. "That stuff is unstickable."

"Unstickable isn't a word," Rachel mutters.

Brittany just smiles.

"What are they going to do with all the golf balls when this is all over?" Tina asks.

"I guess the golf team won't be lacking in balls," Rachel says.

Puck bursts out laughing. Everyone gives him varying looks, Rachel with a fond annoyance to Mercedes who just looks irritated.

"Whatever," Puck scoffs. "If you guys can't appreciate an inappropriate ball joke, I can't talk to you anymore."

"Good," Santana says. "Just stand there and pretend you're pretty then."

…

They're all eventually ushered into school. It takes a bit of effort to get Artie and his chair in, but between Puck, Santana, Tina and Brittany, they manage. Of course, maneuvering through all the golf balls takes a little more muscle than Artie's used to, but the sense of pride he feels at seeing his idea in the real world is enough to make it worth it. Besides, with this sort of effort, he could build some insane arm muscles.

"Is that your reason for coming up with this idea?" Tina asks Artie as he sorts through his locker.

"Not exactly," he answers. "Just a bonus."

"Do I even want to know where you got all these golf balls?"

"I don't know. Do you?"

Tina sighs. "I wish your giddiness was contagious."

"I do too."

…

In hindsight, Rachel's surprised there hasn't been that much golf ball related injuries. And by that, she means the morons of the school assaulting their unsuspecting peers with them. She supposes it hasn't occurred to them, which she's relieved about.

She decides to eat lunch in the choir room, not in the mood for Kurt's speculation. Besides, she needs to make some follow up calls to ensure that she has a catapult for next week. Not wanting to go through the same source as last time, it's taking a bit more effort. She really thought she knew more than one place to get a catapult; she finds herself oddly disappointed in herself. At least the Saunders' brothers will still be handling the pick up.

Thankfully, Mike is working on the trigger, so it's one less thing she has to worry about.

Rachel doesn't look up when the door opens, hoping whoever it is will leave upon seeing her. Instead, they timidly walk over and sit next to Rachel.

Who looks up to find a sheepish looking Marisa sitting next to her.

"Oh hello, Marisa."

"Hey Rach. Sorry to interrupt."

"It's fine." Rachel smiles. "You're not who I was hiding from."

"Oh. Okay."

"So. What's up?"

"Well, Brittany's birthday is coming up."

Rachel nods.

"And we've been going out for about five months now."

"Okay," Rachel says. "Are you not sure what to get her?"

"Not exactly," Marisa replies. "Do you mind coming over this afternoon? I want to ask something, but not here."

"Sure," Rachel says. "Though I hope you drove, because I caught a ride from Artie."

"Uh, no," Maria replies. "My mom needed the car."

"Oh. Um, okay. No problem. Just meet me by my locker after school."

"Okay. See you then."

…

The golf ball debacle is the breaking point for Figgins. Once the clean up process has begun, he sits down at his computer to find a solution.

First, he goes over his budget to see what is even feasible. He's willing to cut a few corners if it means ridding himself of the prankster once and for all.

After the numbers have been crunched, he looks at the dismally small digits in front of him and fights the urge to give up.

Instead, he goes online and begins searching for ideas that will fall within his miniscule budget.

…

Artie's exuberance about the successful prank is almost overwhelming. Rachel's half afraid he's going to crash the vehicle because he seems to be bouncing in his seat the entire drive from McKinley to Rachel's house. But it also meant that when Rachel asked if he minded giving Marisa a ride as well, he easily agreed.

"Thanks for the ride," Rachel says, getting out of the Durango.

"No prob, Rach," Artie replies. "Thanks for the prank. It was awesome. Even if my arms are practically numb."

"It was something different, that's for sure," Rachel agrees.

Not even bothering to go into the house, Marisa follows Rachel into the garage and both climb into the car. It's a quick drive to Marisa's house. They make it there right before Marisa's brothers arrive home from school.

Rachel makes them all a snack and then the boys plant themselves in front of the TV to play video games.

They head up to Marisa’s room, which Rachel nervous; what could Marisa want to talk about? Rachel settles on the bed as Marisa paces in front of her.

“Can I ask you something really personal and maybe inappropriate?” Marisa asks, finally.

“You can ask,” Rachel says, cautiously.

Marisa chuckles sardonically. “Fair enough.” She stops pacing and looks at Rachel. “How long were you and Santana going out before you had sex?”

“Um…”

“Too personal,” Marisa says. “I know. Never mind.”

“No, I mean, well, yes,” Rachel replies. “But actually…” Rachel sighs. “I’m embarrassed to say that Santana and I did the whole courtship backwards.”

“What does that mean?”

“We had sex before we started dating—before we were really even friends.”

“Oh. Was Santana your first?” Marisa asks.

“Unfortunately not,” Rachel replies.

“Unfortunately?”

“Mine was given under false pretense,” Rachel explains.

“Oh.”

"A story for another time."

"Okay."

“Is Britt pushing for, uh, sex?” Rachel asks.

Marisa shakes her head. “I mean, we do stuff, but…”

“The first time is always a bit nerve wracking.”

“I have a gift already picked out,” Marisa says. “But part of me wonders if her birthday would be a good time for our first time.”

“Okay.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“It’s whatever you’re comfortable with, Marisa,” Rachel says. “As long as you don’t feel pressured.”

Marisa sighs.

“Do you feel pressured?”

“It’s just… Brittany. I think I’ve been ready for a while, but I’m scared. She has so much experience and I have almost none.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Rachel says.

“I mean how am I supposed to measure up?” Marisa continues, as if she hasn’t heard Rachel. “Not to mention the fact that she’s had a threesome with you and your girlfriend.”

“Uh…”

“It’s just a lot to take in.”

“I can see that,” Rachel agrees.

Marisa nods and they lapse into silence.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about, you know,” Rachel says eventually.

"Still…"

"But you can at least understand where my apprehension comes from."

"Um, I don't want to offend, but no one's saying you have to have sex with Britt. Ever."

"I know," Marisa says. "I want to though. I just…"

"Having performance anxiety?"

Marisa chuckles. "Yeah."

"Do you think talking to Britt would help?" Rachel asks.

"That sounds awkward."

"Well if you can't discuss sex, then you shouldn't be having it."

Marisa stares at Rachel for a moment. "That sounds like something straight out of one of Ms. Pillsbury's pamphlets."

"Yes, well, it's what my fathers drilled into my head when we had "the talk"," Rachel explains.

"Oh. Awkward."

"Very," Rachel agrees. "But they meant well."

"Parents."

Rachel nods. "You really should talk to Britt. She'll completely understand."

"I know," Marisa replies. "I Just can't help but feel embarrassed."

"It'll work out."

"Can we talk about something else now, please?" Marisa asks.

…

"So have you decided what you want to put in the catapult basket?" Rachel asks Mike.

He's driving her to school Wednesday morning because she just got confirmation on the catapult the night before and it seems the easiest and quickest way to talk.

"I was thinking yellow snow," Mike smirks. "Well, snow balls. That way they'll hit a lot more people."

"Yellow snow?"

"Food coloring," Mike answers. "You mentioned that they have a ton of it in the school kitchen."

"They do," Rachel agrees.

"Then we can grab a bunch," Mike says. "I bet they have a ton of yellow. No one ever uses yellow, but you can't buy just certain colors. Everyone always has an excess of yellow."

"Everyone always says that," Rachel replies. "But that's not necessarily true. People forget that yellow is essential in making plenty of other colors like orange."

"Orange is the only color you could come up with?" Mike teases.

"It's early."

"Please, we know you've been up for hours."

"Well then I've already used up my early morning thinking brain cells," Rachel retorts.

"That doesn't even make any sense."

…

Rachel's glad she had the forethought to have the Saunders brothers pick up the catapult because neither she or Mike has the vehicle to transport it over. The other necessary materials take up enough room in her and Mike's car, anyway.

Why Mike wants the prank to happen on a Tuesday, she doesn't quite understand. But it's his prank, sort of, and so she just agrees.

They meet at 12:30 a.m. Tuesday morning and begin setting up the pulley system to get the catapult and snow up on the roof. Since it's been over a week since it snowed, the roof is clear of snow. Rachel knows this because she checked the day before.

When the Saunders brothers show up an hour later, everything is set up and ready. They skip the pleasantries and quickly begin the process of getting everything on the roof.

Once the catapult is on the roof and in place, they bid good bye to the Saunders brothers and continue working. Once they have enough yellow snow, it all goes in the basket. Next they set up the trigger.

Mike pockets the disposable phone that will act as the trigger and they start cleaning up the mess. After all signs of them having been on the roof have been removed, they head inside the school and lock all the outer doors with chains and padlocks. Hopefully it'll be enough to keep people outside long enough.

When they part company at three, Mike can't seem to stop grinning. And Rachel can't say she isn't pleased with how things turned out.

…

Puck's cell phone beeps as he's driving to school Tuesday morning.

Dress warm and stay away from the front of the parking lot.

He shakes his head. What does his bro have in store for them now?

When he arrives at McKinley, students are once again mulling around the parking lot. He finds Mike, Tina and Brittany standing together and moves to join them.

"Hey. What's the hold up today?"

"Doors are locked," Tina answers.

"Again? Prankster running out of ideas?"

"Not exactly," Mike says.

Puck looks at Mike, his curiosity piqued.

"I take it there's a reason we're supposed to stand all the way back here," Puck says.

"We figured as much," Tina says. "The texts are never wrong."

"I hope it's something entertaining," Brittany adds.

"It usually is," Mike says.

As they wait, Puck can't help, but glance at Mike. He's familiar with the cocky, knowing grin on his face. Puck's seen it enough in the mirror. It's the expression that pulling a prank with Rach creates. He doesn't want to be, but he's jealous. He's the one that encouraged Rachel's badassery. It's because of him that the prankster, the legend, exists. And now Rachel is pulling pranks with Artie and Mike. It's just not right.

His sulking is interrupted by Mike mumbling something next to him.

"Wait for it…"

The phrase is said so quietly that Puck almost misses it. Glancing at the girls, he sees that they didn't hear anything.

A moment later, Puck hears a familiar noise and something is launched off the roof of the school.

Not everyone notices it until it's hurling through the air. It's dozens and dozens of what look like snow balls, except…

"Is that yellow snow?" Tina asks as gravity begins to kick in and the snowballs start to fall.

"Technically," Mike grins.

"That is awesomely gross," Brittany says, elbowing Mike.

His grins grows. "It is, isn't it?"

Puck can grudgingly admit to himself that it's a good prank. Especially as he watches his classmates, specifically the girls, running around freaked out. The chaos of it all appeals to him. Still, the fact that it was caused by Rachel and Mike Chang is really getting to him. He does his best to push it aside and just enjoy the spectacle in front of him.

…

After the shower of yellow snow, Figgins shocks everyone by having Tony the head janitor break down one of the doors, so they can get into the school. A few minutes later, the front doors swing open and the students begin heading inside.

The ones that were hit with the snow balls are not allowed to go home, instead they're told to visit the locker rooms to clean up. There's a lot of grumbling, but everyone does what is expected of them.

…

Puck spends the rest of the day trying not to be annoyed. While it's not the first day he's spent having to hear about the antics of the pranksters, it is only the second time that he's felt… jealous. And he hates it. He's Puckasaurus; people are jealous of him.

For some reason, he feels like he's losing his bro. Puck knows this is ridiculous. Rach will always be his bro, even when she's a super famous Broadway star and Puck is… whatever he ends up being.

Maybe it's the smirk that Chang's been wearing all day or the similar one Artie was wearing as they all waded through golf balls last week. He's the only one who's supposed to feel that way. Britt and Santana don't count. Besides, of all the pranks Rachel has pulled, he's been part of the most. At least he has that.

He heads home feeling pathetic, which is not in his vocabulary. He decides to come up with an awesome pranks of his own to pull with his bro.

…

If Rachel didn't know better, she'd think Noah was avoiding her. She's barely seen him all week, not even in the halls. She's actually starting to wonder if they're still on for their usual Friday bro night.

The last few days have also been filled with hateful glares from Missy Kory. Wendy isn't always at her side, but when she is the redhead always looks apologetic. According to Brittany, Missy already went to Coach Sylvester demanding revenge, but wasn't given the green light. She'd thank Coach Sylvester if she thought that it'd matter, but Rachel knows Coach Sylvester's reasons for denying Missy are her own and don't necessarily pertain to her.

Still she knows it's only a matter of time before Missy decides to seek her own vengeance. After all, this thing between her and Missy has been building for far too long. Though she knew it was naive, she'd hoped that dumping Missy into a dumpster full of grape slushie would be enough to show Missy that she's playing a game she's not qualified to win.

Apparently not; Missy's tenacious, if nothing else.

…

Friday afternoon, Rachel is at her locker when Noah practically bounces up to her.

"Yo bro."

"Noah."

"I probably won't be over tonight until like seven, okay?"

"May I inquire why?" Rachel asks.

"Just got some errands to run, is all," Noah shrugs. "Got a plan."

"All right," Rachel says, cautiously. "I'll see you tonight, then."

"Later Rach."

And then Noah's bounding down the hallway, leaving a slightly bewildered Rachel staring after him.

…

It's taken a lot of research, but Figgins finally finds what he's looking for. It might not be a security system, but it seems perfect to help him catch the prankster. He enters his credit information and hits buy, with a real sense of accomplishment.

…

When Noah shows up hours later, Rachel knows he has some great scheme in mind; he's so excited he's practically vibrating.

"So what's the plan for tonight?" Rachel asks.

"You and I haven't pulled a prank in a while," he replies.

"I suppose that's true."

"So I came up with one," Noah continues. "And it's going to be epically awesome."

"Okay," Rachel says. "So we're going to just hang until midnight? Like usual?"

"Actually, I was thinking more ten, since this one's a bit more time consuming," Noah replies.

"Um, all right."

"Don't look so worried, bro," Noah says. "It's going to be awesome."

…

Saturday morning, Rachel is surprised when the door bell rings at eight. Santana doesn't usually show up until after nine, closer to ten. And even if it was Santana, she does have a key. Rachel can't think of anyone else she knows that would be up this early on a Saturday.

It's Brittany beaming as Marisa stands next to her, looking more asleep than awake.

"Good morning, Rachy," Brittany says.

"Hello Britt. Marisa. Come on in."

Brittany bounces inside, giving Rachel a quick hug before heading towards the kitchen. Marisa half leans against Rachel as they follow Brittany, causing Rachel to chuckle.

"I need coffee," Marisa says.

"I really thought you'd be more of a morning person," Rachel comments.

"Someone kept me up late last night," Marisa replies, slumping into a chair at the kitchen table.

"Um…

"We were playing chess," Brittany says, setting a coffee cup in front of Marisa.

"She's trying to teach me three dimensional chess," Marisa adds. "It's not going well."

"It's just a matter of training your brain to think differently," Brittany says. "Which takes practice."

"Like I said," Marisa says. "It's not going well."

"So not that I'm not pleased to see you guys," Rachel starts.

"I'll get to the point," Brittany interrupts. "As you know, my birthday is coming up."

Rachel nods.

"Well, Marisa asked me what I wanted to do and after some deliberation, I've come up with a short list."

Marisa slides a piece of notebook paper over to Rachel.

"And after a brief discussion, we both realized that you might be helpful in these endeavors," Brittany explains.

"All right."

"So I was hoping you and Marisa could figure it out together?"

"Of course, Britt," Rachel says, glancing over the list. It only has four things on it, but none of them seem terribly difficult; odd maybe, but not difficult. "Seems simple enough."

"Thanks Rachel," Marisa says.

"So you want to spend the day doing this?" Rachel asks. "I assume, next weekend?"

Brittany nods.

"Excellent. We can talk some more tomorrow, Marisa," Rachel continues. "Do you guys want some breakfast?"

"No thanks, Rachy," Brittany says. "We're going back to bed. Sort of."

"Really?"

Brittany nods again. "Yeah. I just wanted to catch you before San got here. We're going to go back to Marisa's and watch Saturday morning cartoons."

"She is," Marisa says. "I'm going to be sleeping."

"Not if your brothers are there," Brittany points out.

Marisa groans.

"Why not go to Brittany's?" Rachel asks.

"It's my parents' anniversary," Brittany replies. "I'm trying to give them as much privacy as possible. It's why I'm spending the weekend at Marisa's"

Rachel is incredibly curious what Marisa said to convince her mom to approve her girlfriend spending the weekend, but now probably isn't the time to ask. "Fair enough."

"Okay," Brittany says. "We're gonna go. See you later, Rachel."

"Bye Rachel," Marisa adds as Brittany drags her towards the door.

The front door slams shut and Rachel is left alone in the kitchen, staring at the list.

…

She's at the kitchen table outlining a plan when Santana arrives an hour later.

"Hey babe," Santana greets, heading straight for the coffee pot. "Whatcha doing?"

"Oh, Britt and Marisa stopped by to discuss Brittany's birthday."

"I asked her last week what she wanted to do and she said it was taken care of," Santana huffs, sitting next to Rachel at the table.

"Well it is now," Rachel replies. "Marisa and I are going to take care of it."

"So there's nothing I can do?"

"You can take care of the first one, if you want," Rachel says, sliding Brittany's list over to Santana.

"Why me?"

"Because Quinn is your best friend," Rachel replies.

"So?"

"San."

"Fine. For B."

"Your massive effort will be greatly appreciated," Rachel says, sarcastically.

…

Monday morning, Figgins can only groan when he enters his office. Everything is wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper. Everything. Well, except for his chair.

He's impressed with the dedication to a task, but the prospect of clean up makes him groan. He slumps into his leather desk chair and begins unwrapping the phone. Maybe Tony has something to make this process go faster.

…

Because covering in Figgin's office with Christmas wrapping paper is more subtle than the previous few pranks, Rachel doesn't really hear anything about it until lunch time.

She and Marisa are sitting at the corner of a table, discussing Brittany's birthday when Mike plops down across from her.

"Hey."

"Hi Mike."

"Hey Mike."

"So seems that the prankster gave Figgins a belated Christmas present," Mike grins.

"Oh?"

"What does that mean?" Marisa asks.

"I guess someone covered Figgins' office with Christmas wrapping paper, including the walls, the windows, the cabinets, his desk, even the stapler on his desk."

"A sign of excellent fine motor skills," Marisa replies.

Mike smirks. "A few people managed to snap pictures of it before they started taking it down."

"Personally, I think he should have kept it up," Kurt says, sitting down next to Mike. "Festive."

"Do you think the stapler still worked with wrapping paper around it?" Mercedes asks, sitting next to Kurt.

"I don't see why not," Mike says.

"It's a weird prank," Mercedes says. "Why do you think sparked it?"

"Wrapping paper being eighty percent off," Kurt replies.

"Whatever works," Mike says.

"I think it's awesome," Noah says, sitting next to Rachel. "Bout time the prankster started harassing Figgins again and left the rest of us alone."

Mike chuckles as Rachel shoots Noah a pointed look.

"That is definitely a sentiment I can agree with," Kurt adds. "Though I must admit I'm actually starting to question if Santana really is the prankster."

"Considering that she says she isn't," Mike says. "That's probably a good thing."

"Yeah," Noah adds. "Keep up the accusations and she might just kick your ass one day."

"Like Rachel would let her," Kurt retorts.

"Assuming she'd listen," Noah counters.

"I'm pretty sure she would," Kurt replies. "She's held back on a hell of a lot of things cause of Rachel."

"Stopping slushies hardly count, Kurt," Rachel says.

"So you're saying you'd let Santana beat me up?"

"Of course not," Rachel replies. "But I don't think it'd ever come to that, anyway."

"I do," Noah pipes up.

"Drama whore," Marisa mutters.

Noah glares at her as best he can from his position next to Rachel.

Mike, meanwhile, chuckles again. "She's got your number."

"Shut it, Chang," Noah growls.

…

"So what? Now you're some sort of prank wish full filling fairy?" Santana asks as she walks Rachel to her car.

Santana has Cheerios practice and Rachel has a voice lesson to get to, but they've barely seen each other all day and so Santana can't help but walk her girlfriend to her car.

Rachel half shrugs. "I don't know. While I enjoy pulling pranks, I have to admit part of me has lost interest. I feel like the challenge I relished before has diminished greatly. So now, if there's something someone wants to try, I don't see a reason not to."

"Besides the usual ones of getting caught?"

"I find it difficult to say no to Noah when he pleads like he did," Rachel replies.

"And Mike and Artie?"

"It was fun."

"I still worry, babe."

"I know, San," Rachel says. "I am being careful."

Santana shoots her a rather incredulous look, but her response is cut off by someone coughing behind them.

They turn and find Becky standing there.

"Coach looking for me?" Santana asks.

Becky nods. "You're in trouble."

Santana sighs. "Figures. Fine." She turns to Rachel. "I'll call you later, babe. But this discussion isn't over."

Rachel just leans in and kisses Santana lightly. "Have fun at practice," she tells Santana. "See you later, Becky."

"Bye Rachel."

Becky stands next to Santana as they watch Rachel climb into her car and pull out of the parking lot.

"I guess we better go," Santana grumbles once Rachel's car is out of sight.

Becky nods and the two of them head inside towards the gym.

a pitch perfect/glee fic

2013-01-27T15:37:10Z

Title: We're Singing the Same Song (Even If the Lyrics Aren't the Same)
Author: slacker_d
Crossover: glee/Pitch Perfect
Pairing/Characters: eventual Rachel/Quinn, Beca/Chloe
Summary: Beca Mitchell is falling for Chloe Beale, while her roommate Quinn Fabray seems to be in love with Rachel Berry. Will they ever tell them how they feel?
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Spoilers: Pitch Perfect and general glee spoilers

Part Five

Rachel knew she owed a lot of musicals, it is after all her first love. But seeing them all laid out on her bed, makes her question the wisdom of bringing every single DVD she owns with.

"It's like having my very own RedBox in the room," Chloe comments.

"Perhaps," Rachel replies. "Though I doubt anyone would be renting this anytime soon." She holds up a DVD.

"Funny Face," Chloe reads as she turns the case over. "Yeah, I suppose not."

"I've got a few that might appeal to your non movie watching crush," Rachel says, gesturing to the small stack of DVDs on her desk. "Anything I should add?"

Chloe looks over the remaining movies on the bed. "Oooh, I'm going to watch this later."

"You've seen it before?"

"It was my grandfather's favorite movie," Chloe replies. "When the Michael Douglas remake came out, he was pissed for months."

"Well, I agree that this one is better," Rachel says. "You can't beat Peter Falk and Alan Arkin together."

A knock on the door a moment later, brings a grin to Chloe's face.

…

"You look nervous."

"I'm not nervous," Quinn replies.

"Oh, sorry, my mistake," Beca chuckles. "Are you done pacing so we can go?"

"I can't believe they live in the same dorm," Quinn says.

"Chloe ambushing me in the shower wasn't enough of a clue?"

Quinn shrugs. "This is college. Rules don't always apply, right?"

"That sounds like a movie tag line."

"I'll keep that in mind if I ever write a movie script."

…

The sheer awe in Quinn's eyes as she sees how many movie musicals Rachel owns actually makes her smile. No one has ever really seen the extent of her collection, except for the three other girls in the room and Rachel's thankful that her obsession doesn't make her a freak like it did in high school.

Of course trying to pick an actual movie to watch is much more difficult. Rachel ends up playing twenty questions with Beca in order to narrow down the choices. The musicals are out, which Rachel assumed. The dramas are also out, as well as the few horror movies Rachel has, that she's not sure how she acquired.

"No Shakespeare either."

"But it's a comedy," Rachel protests.

"I'm pretty sure it's everything about movies that Beca hates," Quinn comments.

"Yeah, but it was originally a play," Rachel counters.

"Yeah, but everything predictably works out in the end."

"It has too," Rachel protests. "His tragedies are too damn depressing."

"How about an old school black comedy?" Chloe says, holding up Heathers.

Beca takes it and quickly scans the back. "Acceptable."

Rachel smirks when Quinn lets out a literal sigh of relief.

…

Beca can admit there are worst things to be doing on a Friday night, though Rachel is definitely unusual. "Why do you have your own projector?"

"Because musicals are meant to be watched on a big screen," Rachel replies.

"All right."

"I know it seems a bit extreme," Rachel admits. "But it's small and portable and actually works in this crazy little dorm room."

Looking around, Beca nods. They're lined up on Rachel's bed, facing Chloe's side of the room because she has more open wall space to aim the projector at. She's having a hard time not grinning at her roommate, who is sitting on end of bed next to Rachel. Chloe is next to her and Beca on the other end. She knows the seating arrangement was deliberate on Quinn's part and she just hopes the blonde is pleased with how the evening goes.

…

It's been a while since Rachel has watched Heathers. She tends to pick musicals and most of the other movies in her collection are gifts. Weirdly this one was a birthday gift from her dads. It was part of a six pack of movies that included: Sixteen Candles, Say Anything, The Breakfast Club, Footloose, and oddly, Bring it On.

She's pretty confident that Chloe and Quinn have seen it before, but knowing Beca's aversion to movies, as well as the attention she's actually giving the screen, Rachel doesn't think Beca has. She doesn’t seem to be suffering too badly, though that may have more to do with how closely Chloe's pressed herself against Beca. With the four of them on the small bed, the close contact could be brushed off as innocent. Rachel knows it isn't and she wonders what Beca believes. Thinking back to what Quinn said the other day, part of her wonders about how truthful the blonde was being about Beca's feelings towards Chloe. Not that she thinks Quinn lied, but for some reason Rachel wonders if Beca liking Chloe is the only reason the four of them are hanging out.

…

Beca is surprised to find herself enjoying the movie. The humor matches her own and it's filled with so many odd phrases that Beca wants to start using just to see people's reaction. "Fuck me gently with a chainsaw", actually makes her laugh out loud. When she does, she notices that Chloe seems to be smiling at her enjoyment of the movie. It makes her feel warm all over in the most unexpected way.

Though she can at least admit to herself that she actually likes being around Chloe, these other feeling that seem to be surfacing are a bit more disconcerting. She'd only come to Barden to get her dad off her back and had hoped, even before he made his offer earlier in the week, that she could get away with only attending one year. After all, if she gave it the old college try, pun intended, he couldn't fault her, could he?

Meeting Quinn had been both a relief and a let down. A relief because she hadn't been looking forward to an awkward year of sharing a space with someone who disliked her and vice versa. But also a let down, because friendship can be a slippery slope. Because once a person starts opening up to one person, more people just seem to follow. For example, Matt and possibly Chloe.

Though she can hear her mom's voice in her head, reminding her that she shouldn't make life choices just to piss off her dad, no matter how amusing it may be.

…

When the movie finishes, Rachel's surprised to realize that she's curious to know if Beca actually liked the movie. She just barely holds back a giggle when she sees that Chloe and Quinn also look eager to know.

"Jeez, guys, it's just a movie," Beca says when she notices the other three looking at her. "And it wasn't the worst ninety minutes I've ever experienced."

"High praise indeed," Quinn says, wryly. "We all heard you laugh, Beca."

"Fine," Beca huffs. "Congrats on picking a movie that doesn't suck."

"Even with your ridiculous standards," Quinn adds.

"You're just mad that I didn't like your favorite movie," Beca retorts.

"How can you hate The Princess Bride?" Quinn questions.

"I didn't say I hate it," Beca replies. "I just said it wasn't my type of movie."

"Right. No rom coms for you."

"So is that no to another movie?" Rachel interrupts, smirking. For some reason, the two of them arguing is adorable. From the look on Chloe's face, Rachel's pretty sure she agrees.

Shaking her head, Beca apologizes. "Sorry. One movie a day is my limit."

"You make it sound like some sort of condition," Chloe laughs.

"It's just that nothing ever works out like it does in the movies," Beca says. "And too much exposure makes a person expect such things."

"Speaking from experience?" Quinn asks.

Beca shakes her head.

"C'mon," Chloe says. "You can't say something like that and not follow up."

"No," Beca replies. "I'm not going to--this isn't going to become some sort of sharing session."

"Why not?" Rachel asks, amused and trying to hide it.

"Because I didn't agree to that."

"I thought it was kind of implied," Chloe muses.

"Not to me," Beca protests.

"What if I go first?" Chloe asks. "And then we can all share one thing?"

"What?" Quinn exclaims. "I don't know about that."

"It doesn't have to be anything big," Rachel says quietly, nudging the blonde with her shoulder.

"I will if, Beca will," Quinn says after a long moment.

"Thanks, Quinn," Beca retorts.

Quinn just shrugs.

Chloe, Rachel and Quinn wait until Beca lets out a long suffering sigh. "Fine."

"Yay," Chloe says. "Okay, so me first then? So the reason I want to join the Bellas, even though I know that they're not going to be the most supportive group of girls I could surround myself with, is because I need music in my life. They seem to be the only viable option of singing every day on this campus. A cappella seems to have taken over and I assume that's why there isn't a glee club or even a choir. And I know the only way I'm going to make it through the next four years is if I'm singing."

Rachel leans into Chloe. "It's like we're on the same page. Well, at least about the singing part."

"Yeah, well, you have voice lessons like every day," Chloe points out.

"Practicing every day is the only way I'm getting to Broadway," Rachel replies. "So who's next?"

"You are," Quinn says.

Shaking her head slightly, Rachel smiles. "Fine. I, uh, have two dads."

"Like a step dad or…" Beca trails off as it seems to sink in. "Oh. Cool."

"That's not a big deal, Rach," Chloe says.

"It is in a small Midwestern town," Rachel replies. "We get harassed. A lot."

"That sucks," Quinn says. "But I understand. That would have happened if you lived in Lima too."

"I'm not sure if I find that comforting or disappointing," Rachel replies.

After a moment of silence, Chloe looks at Quinn and Beca. "So who's next?"

Both Beca and Quinn seem to be looking around the room and avoiding Chloe and Rachel's curious looks.

"We had a deal," Chloe continues.

"The only reason my dad let me come to Barden," Quinn starts. "Is because it's so far away from Ohio. That way if I ever do anything else so reputation damaging like I did while in high school, most of his friends and colleagues won't hear about it. My older sister is the golden child and I'm the screw up."

"Didn't you say you were Salutatorian?" Beca asks.

"But not Valedictorian," Quinn replies, bitterness dripping from her voice.

"Parents," Beca sighs.

Quinn nods. After a moment, she looks expectantly at Beca.

It takes a minute or two, but Beca finally begins speaking. "There was this guy in high school, Jesse. He was really into me. But he was always… He was so into movies. He actually wanted to score movies one day. And no matter how many times I tried to tell him I wasn't interested in watching movies with him, he still kept trying. He'd throw out all these various movie scenarios at me as an argument as to why I should give him a chance. But I wasn't interested, because honestly he lost me when he told me I was like one of those girls who's all dark and mysterious, but then when she takes off her glasses, you realize that she was beautiful all along."

"He said that?" Chloe asks, looking irritated.

Beca nods. "He kept it up for two years. He tried every movie cliché he could think of and it made me hate movies. I mean, I was never a big fan before, but because of him, I purposely avoid movies if I can."

Chloe pulls Beca into a hug, obviously surprising her, but she doesn't fight it. "If you'll let us, we'll give you good memories about movies. Okay?"

Rachel watches Beca nod and lean slightly more into Chloe's embrace.

…

Beca's surprised how she doesn't want to push Chloe away, which is her usual response to a hug; especially one given without warning. But for some reason, she feels safe in Chloe's arms and not claustrophobic like she usually does. Maybe making a friend or two isn't such a bad thing.

Thankfully, there aren't any more heartfelt confessions. She's not sure she could take any more sharing and opening up. Instead, they talk about their classes and professors. Quinn talks about her male psychology professor who seems to have a woman's underwear fetish because she accidently caught a glance of a garter belt when he was retucking in his shirt one day after class. After that, Rachel mentions a girl she met at the a cappella auditions, named Fat Amy and shares the commentary that she was spurting throughout the auditions.

When Beca and Quinn leave hours later because it's very late, Beca finds herself pulled into a tight hug by Chloe. And finds she doesn't mind it. The redhead does the same to Quinn, causing a look of surprise on the blonde's face that makes Beca burst out laughing. She shares a smile with Rachel, who thankfully is making no show of trying to hug her.

"Not the worst way to pass some time," she says, instead.

Beca nods. "Thanks for putting up with my, uh, movie thing."

"Completely understandable," Rachel replies. "If it's one thing I understand is overly pushy high school boys."

They share a smile and Beca thinks that she could actually be friends with this girl, Quinn's crush. Early in the evening, it was easy to see why Quinn liked her, though the blonde claimed it was her voice, which Beca has yet to hear, but after spending the past few hours hanging out, Beca might even consider Rachel a friend.

"You totally had a good time," Quinn says as they're walking back to their room.

"Eh, it didn't suck," Beca replies. "Did it go the way you were hoping?"

Quinn nods. "I just wanted to get to know her better."

"And?"

"She's even more incredible than I thought."

"You got it bad, Q," Beca smirks.

"Like Chloe doesn't already have you wrapped around her little finger," Quinn counters.

"She does not," Beca grumbles.

"Does too."

"Does not."

"Does too."

"Does not."

"Does too."

"Oh, look, here's our room," Beca says, quickly unlocking the door and rushing inside. She slams the door behind her, hoping to win the argument that way. It doesn't work

"Denial isn't just a river in Egypt," Quinn says when she enters.

"God that sounds like something my dad would say," Beca groans.

…

"That went well," Rachel says as she shuts the door after Beca and Quinn.

Chloe nods.

"You're pleased?"

"She's absolutely adorable," Chloe replies.

"Well, then maybe we can make this a regular thing," Rachel suggests.

"Definitely," Chloe agrees.

Part Six

Beca hands Luke another one of her mixes in exchange for a crate of CDs. She assumes he has a pile of her flash drives sitting in the booth because it's the only place she's not allowed to be. She knows he's not listening to any of them, but she can hope that maybe one day he'll get bored enough to give one a listen one day. Besides, getting used to rejection is definitely something she needs to do.

Matt is already there with his own crate of CDs. Beca wonders if he's always early now to make up for being late that very first day.

"So how was movie night?" he asks.

"Fine."

"What movie did you watch?"

"Heathers."

"Classic," Matt replies.

Beca shrugs. "It didn't suck."

"See that's your problem," Matt says.

"What is?"

"Whoever's been trying to get you to watch movies has been pushing the wrong ones," he replies. "I mean, I'm not saying that you're wrong about your assessment of movie plots. Things can be quite predictable, but there are plenty that aren't. It's just a matter of wading through all the shit to find the gold."

"Maybe," Beca agrees. "But then, don't you have to sit through a lot of crap first? I'd rather be doing a lot of other stuff."

"Well, I didn't mean literally watching everything," Matt says. "There's too much out there. But if you watch something and you hate it, then you can probably cross out some others without watching."

"Listen, Matt, I like you," Beca says, as she pauses for a moment. "But if our all our interactions here are going to be about you trying to make me like movies…"

"Fair enough," Matt replies, holding up his hands. "How about this, then? You and me hang out tonight and discuss music. I promise I won't bring up any movies. But if you bring one up, I'm taking the conversation and running."

"Fine," Beca says.

…

Chloe got into the Bellas. Not that Rachel is surprised. She's getting ready to hang out with Mike when there's a knock on the door. Chloe answers it and is immediately dragged away. Then the girl that Fat Amy said was called Lizze sticks her head in and explains that they're kidnapping Chloe for Hood Night which apparently is a time honored a capella tradition at Barden.

Rachel just nods and Lizzie slams the door behind her. Rachel is surprised that she actually received an explanation, especially since Fat Amy had been adamant that Lizzie was a complete and utter bitch. Considering the momentary panic Rachel had felt at seeing Chloe dragged out of the room, Rachel's willing to bet that in previous years someone had freaked out at seeing that.

She wonders what else Hood Night entails. She's also curious who else got in. She hopes Beca did, for Chloe's sake. Rachel knows her roommate could use a friendly face in that sea of mean girls. She also knows that Chloe is stronger than most people see her as, but Rachel can't help but worry anyway.

…

Beca knocks on Matt's door, feeling silly. She can't believe she's actually hanging out with someone and not spending the night alone in her room working on a mix. College is ruining her.

The door is answered by a tall Asian guy and Beca does a double take. Even though Matt's a freshman too, for some reason, Beca never considered the fact that he has a roommate.

"Hey, I'm looking for Matt," she says.

"Beca?"

She nods.

"I'm Mike," he says, stepping aside and letting her in. "He just went to the bathroom. He should be right back."

"Cool. Thanks." She sits on what she's pretty sure is Matt's bed, since Mike is on the other side of the room, putting on shoes. "You don't have to leave on my account."

He looks up smiling. "Don't worry about it. I have a date."

"Oh."

"Yeah. I mean, Matt thinks you're pretty cool, though, so maybe we can all hang out another time."

"Oh. Cool. Ah, have a good time."

"Thanks," he smiles as he stands. "We're going to see a local band that's supposed to be pretty good. I gave Matt the info in case you guys are interested."

"Thanks."

Mike shrugs. "Matt said that music is like your thing, so I thought I'd offer."

"Maybe," Beca replies. "Matt wasn't that specific about what we're doing. He just said that there'd music involved somehow."

"Just don't let him show his dance moves," Mike says. "He does all right, but it's still…"

"Hey, I resent that," Matt says, entering the room. "We can't all be dancing prodigies, like you are, man."

"You're just jealous of my awesomeness," Mike retorts.

"Whatever," Matt replies. "Go away. Tell Rachel I say hi."

Mike nods. "Later."

"Rachel?" Beca asks, afraid of the answer.

"Yeah, this girl in his dance class. Guess she's got this awesome voice that you would never believe comes from someone for short."

Beca feels her heart sink for Quinn. "And they're dating?"

Matt shakes his head. "I think it's the first date, actually."

"Oh."

…

The name of the band is The Freerunners. It makes Rachel wonder if the name means something besides the obvious. Mike doesn't seem to know either.

"How'd you hear about these guys?" Rachel asks when Mike returns, handing her a bottle of water.

"Professor Banks," Mike replies. "I guess they graduated two years ago and they still like to play at The Union since it's the bar where they got their start. They've got a couple CDs out and have a bit of a following."

"Cool."

They end up talking about classes and what kind of ridiculous routines their Advanced Tap professor is going to torture them with next as they wait for the show to start.

…

For some reason, Beca can't get the idea of Rachel being on a date with Mike out of her head. Probably because Quinn seems so damn into the girl, that Beca's almost afraid to tell her. Even if she's not really the type to care about that sort of thing or try to sugar coat things.

Matt senses her distraction and she apologizes.

"It's fine."

"It's not you," Beca says. "It's me."

Matt smirks. "Are you breaking up with me already?"

Beca smacks him on the arm. "I just meant that you're not boring, I'm just distracted."

"Thanks?" Matt looks around for a moment. "Maybe we just need to get out of the room."

"I guess."

"Let's grab some food and then we'll figure something out, okay?"

Beca nods and follows Matt out of the room.

…

Rachel has to admit she actually likes The Freerunners. It's definitely not her usual type of music, but their music is catchy and the lyrics aren't completely stupid. She finds herself easily tapping her foot along with the beat.

Mike is similarly taping out the beat with his fingers and when he looks over at Rachel and sees her swaying slightly to the music, he holds out his hand.

"Wanna dance?"

Rachel nods, takes his hand and follows him onto the dance floor.

…

After grabbing a burger, they end up deciding to check out the band that Mike is taking Rachel to see. Matt says he and Mike have similar music taste and that's why he's interested. Beca sites her love of watching live performances, though she really wants to spy on Rachel.

What shocks Beca the most about her relationship with Quinn is how quickly it's evolved. Normally it takes forever for her to open up and consider someone a friend; trusting people is too risky. But with Quinn, she just feels like they understand each other. She thinks it might the shared pain of both having daddy issues. Seeing how Mr. Fabray treats his daughter angered Beca when she first met Quinn. Now that they're friends, she doubts she'd be able to keep a civil tongue around him. She's not too worried. The way Quinn talks, Beca doubts they'll be back down to see their daughter until she graduates.

It probably helps that Quinn's witnessed plenty of Beca's own dad altercations. Shared pain does a lot to bring people together.

Which is why Beca is follows Matt to The Union to spy on Rachel and possibly hear some good live music.

…

It's been a while since Rachel danced just for fun. Most of her dancing over the past few months has been class or training related. It helps that Mike's an amazing dancing. The music just seems to flow through him while Rachel just tries to keep up.

"So you like 'em?" Mike asks, pulling her close.

"I'll admit they're better than I was expecting," Rachel replies, smirking.

"Is that a dig at my musical taste, Ms. Berry?"

"Certainly not," Rachel says. "But all you could tell me is that they were a local favorite. That's not that much to go on."

"No, I suppose it's not," Mike agrees. A new song starts, it's a lot more upbeat. Mike grins at her. "Wanna show 'em what we can do?"

Rachel nods, letting out a delighted giggle.

…

Mike is easy enough to spot when they step inside The Union. Beca immediately spots him and Rachel on the dance floor. He's spinning her around and they're both wearing big smiles.

Matt sees them as well. "Wanna go say hi?"

"Uh, sure."

They push their way across the dance floor and Matt tapes Mike on the shoulder mid spin. It seems to take him by surprise, but he finishes the spin and gives Matt a hug hello as one fluid movement. It's obvious to see why Matt called him a dancing prodigy.

"Hey Beca," Mike greets.

"Hi."

"Beca, hi," Rachel says, upon seeing them both. "Hey Matt."

"Rachel."

"Bored of him already?" Mike asks, elbowing Matt.

"We were curious about the band," Matt replies.

"We have a table," Mike says, pointing to a little table in the corner. "You wanna show Beca, Rachel and we'll get some more drinks?"

Rachel nods and Beca follows her as she weaves through the crowd.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm kinda sad to see you right now," Rachel says.

"Um, how am I supposed to take that?" Beca asks, annoyed.

"Well, it's just that Chloe got kidnapped for Hood Night and I guess if you're here and not with her, then that means you didn't get into the Bellas."

"Oh. Yeah, probably not."

"I mean, if they'd showed up at the room, Quinn would have called you, right?"

"Right," Beca agrees, wondering what the hell she's going to do now.

"You look worried," Rachel says.

"I don't think my dad is going to be too pleased with me," Beca replies.

"Because you didn't get in?"

Beca nods. "He wants me to get involved. We made a deal. And now that I didn't get in, I'm not sure what I'm going to do."

"They're always looking for help with the shows," Rachel tells her. "Maybe if you helped out, that would be enough for your dad?"

"Maybe."

"I could come plead your case," Rachel continues. "Tell him I was at the audition and that you were the best there. You should have gotten in."

"Should have," Beca huffs. "Life is filled with should haves."

"Yes, well, I suppose that's true."

"So you're dating Mike?" Beca asks, desperate to change the subject.

"Um, not dating. We're hanging out. I mean, I suppose this could be seen as a date, but I've seen no sign either way that it is or isn't."

"Oh. Well, when I ran into Mike earlier, he called it a date," Beca says.

"Well, then I suppose that answers that question, doesn’t it."

"I just got you water," Matt says, setting a bottle down in front of Beca. "Didn't know what else to get you."

"That works," Beca replies.

"So what were you girls talking about?" Mike asks, sitting next to Rachel.

"It seems that Beca here didn't get into the Bellas," Rachel replies.

"How do you know?" Matt asks.

"Because they stopped by my room earlier and took Chloe for initiation," Rachel explains.

"Oh, sorry to hear that, Beca," Matt says.

"Thanks, I guess."

"More time to stack CDS, then."

"That is not a positive," Beca retorts.

"You could always join the High Notes," Mike suggests, smirking.

"Do you have to be a stoner to join?" Beca asks. "Or just be really unmotivated to sing? Because I could definitely do the latter."

"Do you really think that group cares about rules?" Rachel questions.

"I suppose not," Beca replies. "I guess if I get desperate enough."

"You totally should," Matt says. "You could sit with them on the lawn working on your mixes while they're, uh, practicing and it's like killing two birds with one stone."

"Or with one stoner," Rachel adds.

Mike groans. "That was horrible. And I'm not sure that it quite works."

"Hey, at least I tried."

…

The four of them end up hanging out and talking long after the band's done playing. Rachel finds herself liking Beca more and more. She seems to be an endless fount of knowledge about music, every genre and time period. Beca actually spends over twenty minutes explaining her process of making a mix and Rachel finds herself fascinated. She can see why Chloe's drawn to her.

…

They part company when they return to campus. Mike walks Rachel back to her room, while Matt offers to walk Beca back to hers. Thinking of the rape whistle, Beca nods and they slowly trudge across campus.

"You know Rachel lives in the same dorm as me," Beca says after a few minutes of silence.

"Really?" Matt asks. "I guess we could have walked back together, then."

"Well, aren't they kinda on a date?" Beca questions.

"Oh. Yeah. I guess."

"You guess?"

"Well, I just worry because Mike asked Rachel if she wanted to hang out, so it's possible that she doesn't think of it as a date."

"She does now," Beca mutters.

"What? Why?"

"Because I told her that Mike considers it a date," Beca replies, feeling like an idiot. She hopes she didn't fuck things up for Quinn. Then again, it's not like they know if Rachel even likes girls. Maybe this is just the confirmation that she doesn't.

"Oh, well then that changes things, doesn't it?"

Beca nods and they remain quiet until they reach Baker Hall.

"We'll plan better the next time we hang out," Matt tells her.

"Yeah," Beca replies. "Though tonight wasn't terrible."

"Thanks," Matt smirks. "I'm glad to hear I met your apparently low standards."

"Well, it's not like we don't spend enough time together already," Beca replies. "I just figured that maybe too much expose would make us hate each other or something."

"Right. You just wanted another excuse to be an anti social misfit," Matt replies. "Don’t worry, I won't drag you out too often."

"Thank you for understanding."

He waits until she's actually inside the building before walking away. Beca finds it quite sweet. Sighing, she heads to her room, wondering what she's going to tell Quinn about what she observed tonight.

Part Seven

The room is empty when Rachel returns from what was apparently a date with Mike. Initiation must be a long and drawn out event. Even though she's sorry that Beca didn't get into the Bellas, Rachel is glad that she was able to spend some time with Beca. Because of Chloe's crush, Rachel knows she'll be seeing a lot more of Beca, and Rachel is now relieved to know Beca's someone that she'd actually want to spend time around, even without Chloe pushing. Especially since Rachel doesn't make friends all that easily. She has a feeling that Beca doesn't either.

Thinking about Beca makes Rachel think of Quinn. The blonde is difficult to read. The fact that she would approach a stranger on behalf of her roommate endears her to Rachel, though. It's really sweet.

Apparently Quinn is a theater major, though Rachel only shares History of Theater with her. Rachel's quite curious about what Quinn wants to specialize in. The blonde claims she's not that great of a singer, but Rachel's still curious to hear her. Rachel's not sure if she believes her anyway since Beca claimed something similar and her a cappella audition was a thing of beauty.

Maybe Rachel'll ask Quinn if she wants to hang out after their next History of Theater class.

…

Quinn is not pleased when Beca tells her about her evening. Beca looks almost apologetic about it, as if it's her fault that Rachel went out on a date. Which it isn't; Quinn can admit that, she shouldn't take her anger out on the messenger

"It was only a first date," Beca offers. "And Rachel wasn't even sure about that?"

This catches Quinn's attention. "Really?"

"Yeah," Beca nods. "She wasn't a hundred percent sure it was a date."

"But?" Quinn prompts.

"Mike definitely thought of it as a date," Beca finishes. "And he walked her back to her room."

"Do you think she gave him a good night kiss?" Quinn asks. "Because if she did, then it was definitely a date."

"And if she didn't?"

"Well then I have no idea," Quinn replies. "Maybe you can ask Matt about it."

Beca groans. "No way, dude. We are not doing that. Why don't you just ask Rachel if she likes girls? Seems easy enough."

"Just out of nowhere?" Quinn shakes her head. "Not going to happen."

"No, think about it, Q," Beca says. "It's perfect. You ask her if she likes girls. She says yes. You give her a picture of a flower you've drawn--"

"I haven't--"

"--And then she totally swoons and says yes when you ask her out."

"I'm not doing that," Quinn says.

"Why not? It'd totally work."

"Maybe later. After we've hung out a bit more."

"Because at that point, she'll already love you as a friend and it'll be an easy transition?" Beca asks.

"Well, it sounds kinda stupid when you say it out loud," Quinn grouses.

…

Despite the more chaotic schedule of college, Rachel still gets up every morning at six. She tries to be as quiet as possible for Chloe's sake. Thankfully, very few people seem to get up this early and so when Rachel takes a shower, she doesn't have to feel guilty about singing while she takes a longer than normal shower each morning after she goes for a run.

One good thing about being at Barden is that the weather is warmer than it is at home. Rachel plans on running throughout the whole winter because she assumes the temperature will never drop as low as it does in Minnesota. Just because she had to leave her elliptical behind, that doesn't mean she can't keep up with her exercise regiment. It's been part of her morning routine for too long and with all the other changes recently in her life, she's glad that at least one thing can remain similar.

…

Quinn wakes up a few moments before her alarm is set to begin beeping. She quickly shuts it off before it wakes Beca. She sighs as she lies in bed. She's over five hundred miles away from home and yet she still gets up every Sunday and goes to church. She's not sure if it's out of habit or want. Though it is only her fourth Sunday here. Maybe once things get a bit busier, going to church won't be an option. However, if Quinn's honest with herself, and she rarely is, she'd miss not going. She finds attending church comforting.

Sighing again, she climbs out of bed and grabs what she needs to take a shower.

…

Chloe is still asleep when Rachel returns from her run. She tiptoes around the room, grabbing everything she needs to take a shower and then once again, slips quietly out of the room.

…

The one you warned me all about
The one you said I could do without
We're in an awful mess, and I don't mean maybe - please

Quinn realizes singing Papa Don't Preach is probably a little too spot on, considering her history, but she can't help it. Despite how everything turned out, one of the few good memories from junior year was singing that song with Puck, even if the circumstances were horrible. The song has always just stuck with her and has almost become her go to shower song.

Papa don't preach, I'm in trouble deep
Papa don't preach, I've been losing sleep
But I made up my mind, I'm keeping my baby, oh
I'm gonna keep my baby, mmm...

…

When Rachel enters the bathroom, she's surprised to hear someone singing in one of the shower stalls. She's even surprised that someone else is actually awake at this hour on a Sunday. Maybe she's not such a freak after all.

Papa don't preach, I'm in trouble deep
Papa don't preach, I've been losing sleep

Papa don't preach, I'm in trouble deep
Papa don't preach, I've been losing sleep

It takes her a moment to realize that she recognizes the voice. It's Quinn and her voice is perfect. Rachel actually stops walking and just listens.

Oh, I'm gonna keep my baby, ooh
Don't you stop loving me daddy
I know, I'm keeping my baby

Quinn is apparently in the last stall and unwilling to make any noise and disturb this astonishing free concert she's privy to, Rachel leans against one of the stall walls and just listens.

…

When Quinn exits the shower stall, she almost slips when she hears someone clapping.

"You are a liar, Quinn Fabray."

Quinn is shocked to find Rachel standing there, obviously about to take a shower, applauding her.

"What makes you say that, Rachel Berry?" Quinn counters, trying to find her equilibrium.

"You told me that you weren't that good of a singer," Rachel replies. "What I just heard proves otherwise."

"I'm surprised you didn't burst into my stall," Quinn smirks, blushing slightly under the admiring look Rachel is giving her.

"I considered it," Rachel says. "After all, it would make a nice parallel, wouldn't it?"

Quinn chuckles. "Yes it would."

"Quinn," Rachel says, taking a few steps closer. "Your voice really is amazing. You should have tried out with Beca."

Quinn shakes her head. "I knew bitches like that in high school…" She sighs. "I was one of those bitches in high school. Barden is my attempt to be a better person. That means staying away from those judgmental Bellas."

"Oh. That's really…admirable Quinn," Rachel says.

"Thanks, but it's no big deal."

"No, really, Quinn," Rachel says, reaching out and taking Quinn's hand. And how the hell did she get so close, Quinn wonders. "It is. Change is hard. And recognizing something in yourself that you dislike and endeavoring to improve is commendable."

Now Quinn is positive her cheeks are red. "Thanks, Rachel."

"Please don't think me impolite," Rachel says, still holding Quinn's hand. "But why are you up so early? On a Sunday?"

Quinn's eyes stay on the tile floor. "Oh, um, I'm going to church."

"Don't be embarrassed, Quinn," Rachel replies, gently. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"Maybe," Quinn says. "But we both know religion isn't cool."

"Well, I've never cared about being cool," Rachel tells her. "And it sounds like you're trying not to care either."

Quinn nods.

"So then there's nothing to be embarrassed about. Right?"

Quinn shakes her head.

"Would you maybe want to grab breakfast after you get back from church?" Rachel asks.

"Um, yeah," Quinn replies. "That sounds great."

"Okay," Rachel smiles. "Stop by my room whenever you get back."

Quinn nods again.

"Good. I'm going to go shower now."

"Oh. Right. I'm just gonna go… uh…"

Rachel nods and ducks into the shower stall next to the one Quinn was using. A moment later, she hears the water start and decides she better leave before she turns into some sort of weird shower creeper.

…

Rachel knows she really lucked out with Chloe as her roommate. They get along much better than Rachel could have ever hoped. However, Rachel can also admit that when Chloe told her the story of her shower encounter with Beca, Rachel had thought she was crazy. And it's not like Rachel doesn't understand how the music can make you do crazy things. The list of crazy music related things she's done is probably a mile long. But bursting in on someone's shower seems a bit too far, even for her.

However, walking in and hearing Quinn sing Madonna changed all that. It took every ounce of self control she had to not burst in on Quinn. Especially since Rachel's pretty sure that their voices would sound extraordinary together.

Maybe it's the fact that her privacy has been invaded far more times than she's comfortable that stopped her. And honestly, Quinn seems like a really private person. Rachel wants to be her friend and is insecure enough to worry that surprising someone in the shower might be off putting. Sometimes she wishes she had more of Chloe's confidence and courage.

…

When Quinn returns from church, Beca still isn't up. Not that Quinn expected her to be. She has a feeling that her roommate stayed up late working on another mix last night. Still, this is a crisis and she needs to talk to someone.

"Beca. Beca." Quinn nudges the bed with her knee. "Beca, wake up."

"No," Beca grumbles. "Go away dude."

"Beca!" This time Quinn shakes the bed. "It's an emergency."

Beca groans. "The damn building better be on fire, Fabray."

"I'm having breakfast with Rachel in a few minutes."

This seems to wake Beca up. Or at least make her open her eyes. "I'm sorry, I seem to still be asleep, did you say, you're meeting Rachel for breakfast?"

Biting her lip, Quinn nods.

"How the hell did you manage that?"

"Well, I ran into her in the shower and --"

"I'm sorry, stop a second." Beca sits up, now fully awake. "You ran into her in the shower? Like literally? Did she pull a Chloe?"

Quinn laughs. "You say that like it's a regular thing? I mean, really, when else is someone going to burst into your shower stall and demand that you sing?"

Beca raises an eyebrow. "Didn't you just tell me that it happened to you?"

"Well, Rachel decided to wait outside my stall for me to come out," Quinn replies.

"Sure, you get the more respectful stalker," Beca quips.

"She's not a stalker."

"Right. That's you," Beca replies.

"You can mock me later," Quinn says. "I'm supposed to meet Rachel in a few minutes and you have to help me."

"With what?"

"I don't know."

"Well my first recommendation is to change out of your church clothes," Beca says, gesturing to Quinn.

"Right."

Beca flops back down and pulls her pillow over her head. "Now why are you freaking out?"

"Because it's Rachel," Quinn replies.

"So? You did fine the other night," Beca says. "Just relax and talk to her. Or hell, just listen. That Rachel is a talker."

"But you and Chloe were there," Quinn points out.

"So? It's not like you're going to be alone in an isolation room with her," Beca replies. "Just relax."

"Easier said than done," Quinn mutters.

"Just do whatever you did in high school when you wanted a boy's attention."

"You mean flaunt my cheerleading skirt and then tell her she's an awesome football player?"

Beca takes the pillow off her face and looks at Quinn. "God, I would have hated you in high school, wouldn't I?"

Quinn bites her lip again. "Probably."

…

Lost in her physics text book, Rachel looks up in surprise when there's a knock on the door. She jumps up quickly to answer it since Chloe's still not awake. Rachel doesn't want to wake her because she came in late last night, rather drunk.

Rachel smiles at Quinn's little wave.

"Just give me a second," Rachel whispers. "Chloe's still sleeping."

Quinn nods.

Rachel grabs her purse and cell phone and leaves Chloe a note just in case before tip toeing out of the room and closing the door gently behind her.

"Sorry," Rachel says. "She got back really late. I guess Hood Night is an extensive process that ends with excess drinking."

"Well, we are in college," Quinn replies.

"True enough," Rachel smiles. "So do you want to just go to the cafeteria? It's probably early enough that hardly anyone will be around."

"Okay," Quinn says, nodding.

…

Rachel is right and the cafeteria is sporadically filled at best. They fill their trays with food and choose a quiet corner table. If Quinn didn't know better, she'd think it was a date. Remembering what Beca told her the night before, Quinn tries to let that thought go. It's dangerous and it just makes Quinn feel worse.

"So how long did you plan on keeping your secret from me?"

Quinn looks up in surprise and when she opens her mouth, nothing comes out. Rachel can't be talking about her crush, could she?

"You're an amazing singer Quinn," Rachel continues. "You should let people hear you sing."

"Oh. Well, I guess I never really thought about it. Singing's never really been my thing."

"Weren't you in glee club in high school?"

"Oh. Yeah. But never as a soloist or anything. Just one of the background singers."

"Still, you were good enough to get in," Rachel points out.

"Actually since our advisor was so… um, touchy feely, anyone that auditioned and could sing got in."

"That doesn't seem like a good system," Rachel says.

Quinn shrugs. "He was more about enjoying the experience than actually winning."

"Ah, I see," Rachel says. "It's probably a good thing I didn't go to your school. I'm sure he and I would have not gotten along."

"No, probably not," Quinn agrees.

"So if you're not a singer," Rachel says. "What is your emphasis?"

"Oh, just acting in general," Quinn replies. "I was in The Dining Room during my senior year and I don't know, it just seemed to make sense, you know?"

Rachel nods. "I do. When I won my first singing competition at the age of four, I was hooked. I knew I wanted to be on Broadway."

"You knew that you wanted to be on Broadway at four?" Quinn asks. "I didn't even know what Broadway was until I was in high school." Though considering how her father felt about musical theater and the gays that populated it, that isn't that surprising.

"Yes, well, not to be stereotypical, but I was raised by two gay men. My daddy's two passions are hockey and musicals." Rachel shrugs. "An odd combination, I know, but whatever makes him happy, right?"

Quinn nods.

…

Rachel is glad that her instinct about Quinn seems to be correct. Especially since she knows that Chloe wants to spend more time with Beca. Getting along with Beca's roommate will definitely help the situation. And the fact that Quinn said Beca likes Chloe as well; maybe she and Quinn can scheme a bit to push the other two towards each other? After all, Beca seems like the type that would have a hard time admitting her feelings. And while Chloe is more forward than most people, Rachel knows she's still a bit nervous about how Beca really feels about her. Rachel suppose that she didn't help by not telling Chloe that Quinn told her that Beca likes Chloe, but it just felt so high school, that she couldn't. And honestly, she didn't want to push anyone too much out of their comfort zone. The fact that the four of them had a good time together the other night is enough, in Rachel's mind.

When she and Quinn part company a few hours later, Rachel can't believe how easily the time flew by. It had taken a bit to get Quinn talking, but once she did, Rachel was delighted to listen. Once Quinn had started to open up a little, conversation had flowed with ease.

Rachel had scoffed, internally, when Chloe had told her a few weeks ago that she just knew that Beca is someone she needs in her life. But now, after talking to Quinn for hours, Rachel is reassessing that statement. Maybe her roommate was right; there are just some people you know have to be in your life. It just took Rachel a bit longer to figure out that Quinn was one of them.

Part Eight

When Beca wakes up again, it's a few hours later to an empty room. She wonders if that's a good sign for Quinn. Maybe she's managed to sweep Rachel off her feet. Beca actually chuckles at the thought since Quinn seemed far too nervous about a simple breakfast to ever be that charming.

After a very quick shower, because she's still worried about being interrupted, she's back in the room trying to decide how much she wants to study. Very little actually. Instead, she shoves her headphones on her head and sits down in front of her computer.

…

Chloe wakes up to a very quiet room. No surprise there. Rachel is an early riser. Looking around, she finds a bottle of water and some aspirin sitting on her desk. She smiles in appreciation; Rachel is awfully sweet.

After finishing most of the water, Chloe isn't ready to get out of bed. She had a great time last night. The Bellas are a little nicer with a little alcohol in them. Still, it had been a real disappointment that Beca hadn't gotten in as well. She'd been so good at auditions, that Chloe had thought there was no way they'd reject her. Apparently, she was wrong.

There's a note next to the aspirin. Chloe carefully unfolds it.

Chloe, I went to breakfast with Quinn. Hope you're not too hung over. Congratulations on getting in. Rachel

Chloe has no idea how long ago Rachel left, but it gives her an idea.

…

As usual, Beca is completely entranced in her music and so when someone taps her on the shoulder, she jumps. Beca pulls off her headphones just in time to hear Chloe giggling at her, which causes her to scowl at the redhead.

"I did knock," Chloe smiles. "Several times."

"How'd you get in?"

"It was open."

"Oh." Beca saves what she was working on. "What's up?"

"We're hanging out today," Chloe replies.

Beca raises an eyebrow. "We are?"

Chloe nods. "We are."

"Well okay, then."

…

They study first. When Chloe learns that Beca is supposed to be studying for a quiz in Into to Philosophy and reading Jude the Obscure for her lit class, the redhead declares the next few hours study hours. She then rushes out and quickly returns with her own homework and plops down on Beca's bed.

Beca eyes Chloe, but she just smiles back and pat the bed next to her. Beca sighs and clicks around on her laptop. A moment later, an unfamiliar beat begins playing and Beca sinks onto the bed next to Chloe. Grumbling, she opens her textbook and begins reading.

Smirking, Chloe inches closer to Beca, so their legs are practically intertwined and opens her own textbook.

…

Beca's surprised how easy it is to study with Chloe pressed up against her. Normally, she's very much about having her own personal space. But Chloe's already proven that she likes to invade Beca's space and Beca really doesn't mind. She tries to, honestly, because it seems like she should, but she's just really comfortable around Chloe. Realizing this throws her because there are people she's known for years that she wouldn't be sitting this close to.

She thinks back to that first day at the activities fair. She'd honestly thought Chloe a bit of a nutter, talking about kismet and the universe. Beca would love to believe everything happens for a reason, but she just can't.

Beca glances over at Chloe who seems deep into her calculus book and finds herself smiling. She'd initially just been attracted to her, especially after the shower incident, and no one would blame her. But now that she's spent some quality time with her… well, Beca's not even sure. She just knows that she likes having Chloe around.

…

A few hours later, Chloe can't take anymore studying. She's glad her homework's done and she's honestly a little surprised that Beca is letting her practically lay on top of her, but she's not complaining. Now, she could use some food.

Chloe closes her text book and then gently takes the book out of Beca's hands and puts a pencil in it to keep her place.

"So we're going to go eat," Chloe tells her.

Beca smirks. "We are, are we?"

Chloe nods. "You're telling me you're not hungry?"

"I didn't say that," Beca replies. "I was just curious when I'll be allowed to join in the decision making process."

"Why? I already know that you're going to agree with me," Chloe says. "I'm just saving us a step this way."

"Uh huh, sure," Beca says, sliding off the bed.

"For someone who's protesting so loudly, you're getting up pretty quickly," Chloe continues as she stands.

"Because I'm hungry," Beca says.

"Uh huh, whatever you say."

…

It's late enough the cafeteria is open for dinner, but early enough that there's hardly anyone else there.

They find an empty table fair away from everyone else.

"So what's your major?" Beca asks.

"Biology. Pre med."

"Huh."

"Not as glamorous as yours?"

"I'm undeclared, actually," Beca replies.

"I would have thought you'd pick something music related," Chloe says.

"Well to be honest," Beca says, feeling a bit guilty. "I'm not planning on staying around here long enough for it to matter."

"What does that mean?"

"When the school year ends, I'm outta here," Beca explains.

"Why?"

Beca shrugs. "I'm only here to get my dad off my back. We have a deal. I give college a chance and at the end of the year when I still want to leave, he's going to help me."

"You're leaving?" Chloe pouts.

"Not til the year's over," Beca protests.

"But I was looking forward to getting you into the Bellas next year."

"I doubt that they're going to change that much in just a year and actually let me in," Beca replies.

"You can't leave me here all alone," Chloe says.

"What about Rachel?"

"I need you too," Chloe replies. "You, me, Rach and Quinn could totally take over this place."

"I don't really want to take over this place," BEca says.

"You can't leave."

"You act like I'm leaving tomorrow," Beca says. "The end of the school year is months away."

"You mean after months and months of me fa--I, uh… and then you're just going to leave?"

"I said, if," Beca offers weakly.

"Actually you said, when," Chloe points out.

"Oh," Beca replies, weakly. "Heard that, did ya?"

Chloe shakes her head at Beca.

"Well, then you'll just have to give me some reasons to stay," Beca tells Chloe with a wink.

…

Chloe hears Rachel long before she reaches the room.

Crazy from the fright.
Tears without no comfort,
Screams without no sound.
Only darkness and pain,
The anger and pain,
The blood and the pain!
I buried my hear in the ground!
In the ground-
When I buried you in the ground.

Once Chloe closes the door, she leans against it and listens. Rachel is facing their desks, singing with her eyes closed.

Daddy played piano.
Bet he's playin' still.
Mama can't forget him.
Don't suppose I will.
God wants no excuses.
I have only one:
You had your daddy's hands.
Forgive me.
You were your daddy's son.

Once Rachel's done, she gives a slight bow. Chloe laughs as she applauds. Rachel whips around, looking embarrassed.

"Oh. Hello." She bows again. "How was your day?"

"Pretty perfect, actually," Chloe replies. "Yours?"

"Productive and informative," Rachel says. "Did you know that Quinn is an exceptional singer?"

Chloe shakes her head. "Did you know that Beca plans on leaving Barden at the end of the year?"

"No," Rachel replies. "But I'm not surprised. She did say last night that she wanted to be in LA trying to DJ."

"We can't let her leave," Chloe continues. "Not when I just found her."

"That's approximately eight months away, Chloe," Rachel says.

"I know, but it'll just fly by," Chloe replies. "And then poof, she's gone."

"Or it's two hundred and forty days to make her realize she wants to stay."

"I guess that's true," Chloe allows. "But you're going to help me get her to stay."

"Of course," Rachel nods. "I like Beca."

"Good," Chloe smiles. "Wait a minute. How do you know Quinn is such a great singer?"

"I may have overheard her singing in the shower," Rachel admits.

"Oooh, you didn't burst in on her, did you?" Chloe questions. "Because that's totally my thing."

"No, I didn't pull a Chloe," Rachel retorts. "I waited outside the stall."

"Only mildly creepy."

"Well I try."

"So you spent the whole day with Quinn?"

"Just most of the morning," Rachel answers.

"And considering you get up at six freaking a.m., that's saying something."

"Exactly."

"So…" Chloe says. "Does this mean you're into Quinn?"

"I could be," Rachel replies. "I really enjoyed spending time with her today. But she's a bit hard to read. It took quite a bit for her to really open up and relax."

"Yeah, I got that sense the other night."

"Well, I've got time," Rachel says. "She'll give in eventually. I am if nothing else, tenacious."

…

"So how was your breakfast with Rachel?" Beca asks Quinn.

"Good. Really good, actually."

"You sound surprised," Beca says.

"Well, I've never really… Rachel's the first…"

"Rachel's the first girl you've liked? Or at least let yourself like?"

Quinn nods.

"Ah," Beca nods. "You shouldn't stress so much. Rachel's cool. Crazier than I first thought, but a real sweetheart."

"I know. I just…"

"Just be yourself," Beca says. "Isn't that what everyone always says?"

"Yeah, in after school special and guidance school pamphlets," Quinn scoffs.

"Rachel seems to appreciate honesty," Beca replies. "If you can actually relax long enough to just be your normal ridiculous self, you'll be fine."

"I'll take it under consideration," Quinn says. "So what'd you do today? Spend most of it sleeping?"

"Actually Chloe came over and we hung out."

"Really?"

"Why do you sound so surprised, now?"

"Because you're a weird musician loner," Quinn replies.

"Hey," Beca says. "I'm not weird. I'm quirky."

"Uh huh," Quinn nods. "You left your computer on. You were making a mix while she was here?"

"Uh, no, actually I played her a few of mine."

"You played her some of your mixes," Quinn says, slowly.

Beca shrugs. "Yeah."

"Your personal mixes?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Didn't you just tell me a couple days ago that no one gets to hear those?"

"Um…"

"You have it so bad for her."

"What? I do not."

"Uh huh, whatever lets you sleep at night."

…

Today is the day they're assigned lab partners. Chloe has been both anticipating and dreading this day. While she's excited to meet someone new, she also knows a bad lab partner can ruin an entire year.

She's forced to sit through an entire lecture beforehand though. Chloe thinks her professor may enjoy torturing them. It doesn't bode well for their tests.

"Before you all go," Dr. Mason says. "I put all your names in a hat and paired you up randomly because it seemed the most fair."

"What kind of hat?" someone asks from the back row.

Dr. Mason chuckles. "I wish could say something cool like a top hat or a cowboy hat, but alas, it was just a baseball cap."

"Was it your hat?"

"Listen, if you want to discuss my hat choosing process, we can talk after class," Dr. Mason replies. "But I think everyone else wants to know who their lab partner is going to be for the year."

"Yeah," someone else calls out. "Shut up, already dude."

Dr. Mason laughs. "Okay, so here's the list of partners. Take the last ten minutes to find each other."

He sets three pieces of paper on his desk and takes a step back as everyone descends on it.

Chloe doesn't push her way through, knowing it'll be a bit easier to attempt when the chaos has died down a bit. She closes her eyes and hums one of the mixes Beca played for her yesterday.

Someone sits down next to her, but when she doesn't hear anything, she keeps her eyes closed. She assumes they're waiting as well. However, a moment later she is tapped on the shoulder.

Chloe opens her eyes to find an Asian girl with big eyes staring back at her. She says something, but Chloe can't hear her with the cacophony going on in the front of the room.

"I'm sorry, what?" Chloe asks, leaning forward.

It's a loud whisper now. "Are you Chloe Beale?"

Chloe nods, still leaning forward.

"I'm Lily Onakuramara. Your lab partner."

"Oh. Nice to meet you."

Lily nods.

"I guess I'll see you next time?"

Lily nods again.

"Okay," Chloe says, standing. "I, uh, have another class to get to."

Chloe thinks that maybe Lily says good bye as well, but she can't be sure. This is going to be an interesting year.

…

"Beca, there you are."

Beca sighs. She should have gone with her first instincts and stayed in her room. She really wishes she'd had her headphones on. She could have ignored her dad so much easily. "Dad."

"Studying?" He sounds a little too hopeful.

"Not exactly," she grumbles.

"Beca," he sighs. "I thought you were going to try."

"I am trying."

"By doing what?" he asks. "You're not studying. You haven't joined any groups. I guess I'm just supposed to be grateful that you're going to your classes at least. Please, at least tell me that you're not sleeping in all of them."

"I study," Beca insists. "I totally aced my Philosophy quiz this afternoon."

"Says you," her dad says.

"And," Beca continues. "I auditioned. For the Barden Bellas. It's not my fault that they didn't let me in."

"You? Auditioned for an a capella group? I'm really supposed to believe that?"

"Yeah. You are."

"How sarcastic were you?"

"Just barely," Beca retorts.

He sighs. "Beca. The deal is still on the table, but you have to really try. Just floating through isn't going to cut it."

"Dad that's not fair," Beca protests. "I am trying. I'm actually--"

"I don't want to hear your excuses, Beca. I want to see you trying."

"Oh my god, stop saying try."

"Beca, I’m serious. You have to--"

"You know what, dad," Beca interrupts, standing. "I have class. I should go."

The look she receives implies that he doesn't believe her. "Fine. Maybe you can come over for dinner one night this week."

"I'd really rather not," Beca says before she can censor herself.

This time his sigh is the loudest possible. "Go to class."

She nods and takes off towards a random building, just needing to get away.

a Pitch Perfect/glee fic

2013-01-27T15:30:10Z

Title: We're Singing the Same Song (Even If the Lyrics Aren't the Same)
Author: slacker_d
Crossover: glee/Pitch Perfect
Pairing/Characters: eventual Rachel/Quinn, Beca/Chloe
Summary: Beca Mitchell is falling for Chloe Beale, while her roommate Quinn Fabray seems to be in love with Rachel Berry. Will they ever tell them how they feel?
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Spoilers: Pitch Perfect and general glee spoilers
A/N: Okay first off, I stopped watching glee at the beginning of season 3, so I have no idea what's going on anymore. Second, this idea came from marshnallowhobo on tumblr who wanted a fic based off this photoset. And being a crossover junkie, I couldn't resist.
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.

Part One

Though it wasn't her first choice, Rachel is still excited to be attending Barden. They have an excellent music and theater department, so hopefully she'll get as much experience as possible and when she graduates, she'll be ready to take New York City by storm.

She's one of the first to arrive on campus. After her dads help her move all her things inside, she shoos them out. For some reason, she doesn't want to meet her new roommate with her fathers hovering. College is going to be a positive, uplifting experience and for some reasons, having her dads around seems like too much.

And honestly, it's not like they can really help her unpack. As expected, the dorm room is rather small, especially for two people. Rachel just hopes her new roommate doesn't mind that she took the left side of the room.

…

Beca is not impressed with Barden. Not that she expected to be. She knows that it's a top rated school and all that, but the fact that they actually employ her dad loses them major points.

She's tempted to blow the rape whistle just because. With all the chaos surrounding her, would anyone even notice? She dodges students dragging suitcase, carrying boxes and pushing carts as she makes her way to Baker Hall.

…

Rachel is trying to decide if she should hang up both her Wicked and her Les Misérables poster when the door swings open and in bounces a smiling redhead.

"Hi," she greets. "I'm Chloe."

"Rachel."

The redhead looks at the Wicked poster that Rachel just put up.

"You like musicals?" Chloe asks as she sets down a box on the other bed.

Cautiously, Rachel nods.

"Only musicals?" Chloe continues.

"Um, well, no," Rachel replies. "Though my dream is to perform on Broadway, I believe in all music."

Chloe lets out a squeal and suddenly Rachel finds herself caught up in a hug.

"Good," Chloe says. "Because I don't think I could live with someone who doesn't like music."

"Oh, I agree," Rachel replies. "Not liking music is akin to kicking puppies."

"Exactly."

Rachel's smile is full of relief. She'd been so worried about what kind of roommate she'd end up with.

"So you won't mind if I sing a lot?" Rachel asks.

Chloe looks up from her unpacking. "Course not. I do that too. Sometimes a song just gets stuck in your head and you gotta sing. Right?"

"I know we just met," Rachel says. "But I think I may already love you a little."

Chloe smiles. "I am very loveable."

…

When Beca arrives in her room she finds it occupied with a blonde having a quiet, but furious argument with her dad. They don't even acknowledge her when she enters the room, so she throws her stuff on the bed on the right and begins setting up her laptop and other DJing equipment. She tries to ignore the hisses of anger coming from the other side of the very small room.

"…uphold the Fabray reputation…"

"…over five hundred miles away…"

"…paying your tuition…"

Once Beca has enough of the equipment set up, she slams her headphones on and tries to work on a mix. It's tough; it turns out awkwardness is not good mix inspiration. Still, she does her best.

Despite the difficulty she had initially, Beca quickly loses herself in the music. It really never takes much for her. She's so in the zone, that when she's tapped on the shoulder, she actually jumps a bit.

"Holy shit," she says, pulling down the headphones and turning in her seat.

"Sorry," the blond replies. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"S'okay," Beca replies, looking around the room.

The blonde rolls her eyes, though Beca gets the feeling that it's not directed at her. "He's gone. Hopefully for good, though you never really know with Russell."

"Step dad?"

"Just dad," she replies. "He's just not very good at it. I'm Quinn."

"Beca."

"What are you working on?"

"Oh, uh, I mix songs," Beca replies. "DJing."

"Like a mash up?" Quinn asks.

Beca grins. "Yeah, kinda."

"Cool."

"You're into music?"

Quinn nods. "I was in my high school's glee club. Our advisor really liked mash ups. It became like our thing."

"Glee club, huh."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, but I needed another activity to get my dad off my back and it was the only one that worked with my schedule."

"Another activity?" Beca asks.

Beca had never really been involved in high school stuff. She knew most of the band kids, since she played freshman year for a few months because her parents said she had to try something, and a lot of the AV nerds because she liked to borrow the equipment. But after her dad left when she was fifteen, she threw herself completely into DJing. She dropped out of band, got a hold of as much mixing equipment as possible and became a loner. It was just easier that way.

Quinn sighs. "Cheerleading."

Beca raises an eyebrow.

"Hey, we were national champions three years running," Quinn protests. "Besides, it got me scholarships."

"No, it's cool," Beca replies. "I just honestly didn't have you pegged as one of those popular girls."

"You say popular the way I would say leper," Quinn says.

"At least it's not as bad as a serial killer?" Beca suggests. "Hey did you have to wear those super short cheerleading skirts all the time?"

"Yes," Quinn replies. "And let me tell you, it's not the best idea in Ohio in the middle of January."

"I can imagine."

…

"So this is probably a stupid question," Chloe says once she finishes unpacking. "But are you a theater major?"

Rachel looks up from where she's rereading Les Misérables. "Technically I'm a musical performance major with a theater emphasis."

"So lots of singing?"

Rachel grins. "Yep. What's your major?"

"Biology. Pre med."

"Oh."

"Not what you were expecting?" Chloe smiles.

"I guess I was expecting something a bit more music related," Rachel replies.

"My passion for music doesn't really translate into actual employment the way yours does."

"I suppose I can see that."

…

"Hey this is campus police, hide your wine coolers."

Recognizing her dad's voice, Beca looks up as the door swings open and her dad enters smiling. "Just joking around."

"I'm laughing on the inside." Beca returns to the mix she'd just been working on.

Seeing the blonde in the room, who's arranging things on her desk, her dad introduces himself.

"I'm Dr. Mitchell, Beca's dad. I teach comparative literature here."

"Nice to meet you sir," Quinn says, turning to face him, though she doesn't stand. "Quinn." And then she returns to what she's doing.

"So, when'd you get here?" he asks. "How'd you get here?"

"Cab," Beca replies. "Didn't want to be a bother."

"You're not bother, Beca," her dad says. "Shelia or I would have been glad to pick you up."

"I can't think of anything more uncomfortable than a car ride with the stepmonster," Beca retorts.

"Of course." Her dad looks around the room, obviously struggling for another topic. "Have you seen much of the campus? The quad is where everyone hangs out whenever it's nice."

"Yeah, well, I don't want to hang out here," Beca replies, as she begins unpacking so she doesn't have to look directly at her dad. "I want to be in LA, getting a job at a record label, so I can start paying my dues."

Her dad sighs. "Beca we've talked about this. DJing is a hobby, not a profession. Unless you're someone awesome, like Rick Dees."

"Wha--I can't even, really?" Beca stops unpacking for a moment. "I want to produce music, dad, make music."

"After you get a college education," her dad replies. "For free, I might add. End of discussion."

Looking uncomfortable, Quinn stands and announces, "I think I'll go to the activities fair."

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Beca says. "I'm gonna go to the activities fair with my brand new, super awesome friend, Quinn." She follows Quinn out and slams the door behind her.

…

Rachel and Chloe are wandering around the activities fair. There are almost too many activities to choose from. Looking around Rachel sees a club or association for everything she could ever imagine and some she hadn't even thought of.

"Are deaf Jews really that different than other Jews?" Chloe asks as they walk by a booth.

"Um, maybe," Rachel replies. "I don't really know that many deaf Jews."

Suddenly a flyer is thrust into Chloe's face.

"Hi. Can you sing?"

Accepting the flyer, Chloe replies. "We both can."

The other girl looks at Rachel in disdain. "Oh." She grudgingly gives her a flyer as well. "You're both welcome to audition, but we do have certain standards."

The flyer is for the Barden Bellas, a competitive all female a cappella group. Looking at the other girls surrounding the booth, Rachel can agree they definitely have a type. She definitely doesn't fit it, though it looks like Chloe does.

"I've never sung a cappella," Chloe tells the girl.

"That's fine," she replies. "As long as you can sing."

…

Quinn is apparently a theater major and so when they pass a booth for the theater fraternity, the blonde stops for a chat. Beca listens for a moment, but figures she might as well keep looking, so she tells Quinn she'll see her later.

A few minutes later, Beca's pretty sure she's not going to find anything to hold her interest when she spots a sign that says "Barden DJs". Of course, it turns out that DJ stands for deaf Jews and so Beca keeps walking.

Her phone beeps with a text from her dad. She contemplates not reading it, but she knows if she doesn't, he'll just reference it later and be pissed that she didn't read it.

Even though you only went to the activities fair to escape me, it wouldn't hurt to join a group or two.

She groans. God, can't he just leave her alone? It should be enough that she's even at this damn school. Agitated and still glaring at her phone, Beca isn't looking where she's going and runs into someone.

…

The girl, Brooke, is explaining the a cappella hierarchy on campus to Chloe and Rachel, well mostly Chloe, when someone stumbles into the redhead.

"Watch where you're going bitch," Brooke snaps.

The brunette is about the apologize, but stops at Brooke's statement.

"Right." She turns to Chloe. "Sorry. Didn’t see you."

"It's fine," Chloe replies, cheerfully. "It's crazy around here, right?"

The brunette nods.

"I'm Chloe," she continues, sticking out her hand.

"Uh, Beca," the girl replies, awkwardly shaking Chloe's hand.

"And this is my roommate Rachel," Chloe says, gesturing to Rachel.

"Hi," Rachel says offering a little wave.

"Hey." Beca shoves her phone back into her pocket. "Listen, it was really great to meet you guys, but I've gotta… be elsewhere." She quickly walks off.

…

Beca's only gone a few steps, before the redhead is by her side again. "Uh…"

"Can you sing?" the redhead, Chloe asks.

"Um…"

"Because I was thinking of auditioning for the Barden Bellas," she continues. "And my roommate isn't really interested."

"What the hell are the Barden Bellas?" Beca asks.

"Apparently they're an all female a cappella group," Chloe replies.

"Really? Sounds kinda lame."

"Maybe," Chloe agrees. "But sometimes lame is fun. Right?"

"Um, listen, I really am sorry I ran into you, but I’m not really looking for--"

"I don't believe in coincidences, Beca," Chloe interrupts. "You ran into me for a reason."

"I did?"

Chloe nods. "The universe is trying to tell us something."

"Really? Because I sorta feel like the universe has already screwed me over enough, so I'm not sure I really want to listen anymore."

"But everything the universe did got you to this point," Chloe says. "And it got you to run into me. Totally kismet."

"Um, wow, I don't think so," Beca replies. "Once again, it was nice to meet you, but I really do need to get going."

"Fine," Chloe says. "But when we run into each other again, you'll have to admit I'm right."

Beca just half waves over her shoulder and heads back towards the theater fraternity booth, hoping Quinn is still there.

…

Rachel watches with amusement as Chloe follows after Beca and stops her a few feet away. She glances over at the pair as she mulls around the Bellas booth.

"Just because your friend is our type, doesn't mean we'll accept you automatically," Brooke sneers. "I don't care how great of singer you are."

"Don't worry," Rachel replies. "I have no intention of auditioning. Besides the fact that I have no interest, you don't seem like the sort of person I want to associate with."

Apparently this was the wrong thing to say. "Listen, bitch," Brooke growls, leaning closer and lowering her voice. "You're a freshman. Obviously. So I won't crush you under my heel. But we're the shit on this campus. And you're making yourself enemies."

"Wow, really," Rachel says. "Are you going to knock my books out of my hands as I walk to class?"

Brooke scoffs.

"Hey guys," Chloe interrupts.

"Oh, hey Chloe," Brooke says, an obviously fake smile now plastered on her face. "I hope I see you at auditions."

Once Brooke has broken away, Rachel and Chloe keep walking.

"So…that was interesting."

"Are you going to audition?" Rachel asks.

"I'm thinking about it," Chloe replies. "It sounds like fun."

"Could be," Rachel offers sarcastically.

"Yeah, she was kinda a bitch, but I still think it'll be fun."

"And the reason you chased after…Beca?"

Chloe shrugs. "You know how you meet someone and you just know?"

"Know what?"

"That they should be in your life," Chloe replies. "I felt it with you. And I felt it with Beca too."

"Well, she seemed a bit reluctant, so good luck with that."

"I'm not worried," Chloe says. "Things like this have a way of working themselves out."

Grinning, she hooks her arm with Rachel's as they continue to explore the activities fair.

Part Two

At least Barden has a radio station that offers internships, Beca thinks as she walks across campus. Maybe she can get a little experience before she heads out to LA; then her time here won't be a complete waste.

It's not much, she thinks as she opens the door that reads, studio. It looks more like a storage room with a booth in the corner. Filled to capacity with records and CDs, Beca wanders in slowly as she hears the guy in the booth intro the next song. Just as she reaches the door, it swings open and the DJ pops out.

"Hey."

"You been there long?" he asks.

"Uh, no. I wasn't--just got here." Beca tries to lean in through the open door frame, curious.

"No freshmen in the booth," he tells her, grabbing a crate of CDs.

"Right. Sorry."

"I'm Luke," he says. "You're Beca? The intern?"

"Yeah, I--"

"Hey guys, what's up?"

Beca looks over to find one of the tallest guys she's ever seen. He had to be at least a foot taller than her.

"I'm Matt," he says.

"Luke. And you're late." He sets the crate on a nearby desk. "So your guys job is to stack these CDs. After that, there'll be more."

"Yay," Beca mutters.

Luke raises an eyebrow, but just says, "Also, no sex on the desks, okay? Only leads to trouble."

After they both awkwardly nod at him, he returns to the booth.

Beca grabs several CDs out of the crate. "This sucks. I wanted to play music."

"Yeah, well, gotta pay your dues and all," Matt replies as he begins to put away CDs. "Besides, after this, we'll totally be qualified to work at Tower Records."

"Didn't they close all those stores?" Beca asks, pulls more CDs out of the crate.

"Empire Records then," Matt says.

"Never heard of it."

"Too bad. They are open 'til midnight," Matt replies. "You should watch it. It'll totally put this whole CD stacking thing into perspective."

"Oh, so it's a movie."

"An awesome movie," Matt says.

"Yeah, well, I'll just have to take your word for it."

"You wound me with your doubt," Matt says, placing both hands over his heart mockingly.

"Nah," Beca replies. "I just don't watch movies."

"Like all movies?"

"Yeah."

"Hmph. I'll keep that in mind when I ask you out next week," Matt jokes.

Beca stops stacking for a second and glares at him.

"It was a joke."

"Whatever dude, you're not my type, anyway," she retorts.

"Is it the height thing? Because, no offense, you're making me feel very tall right now."

Beca rolls her eyes. "No, it's not the height thing."

"It's not a race thing, is it?"

”No, it's not a race thing."

"Is it because I was late?" Matt asks. "It wasn't my fault. A parade of deaf Jews was literally blocking my path for a good five minutes. And it's not like they can hear you when you try to push through."

"Seriously?"

"Fine. I stopped and bought a bottle of water on my way over," Matt replies. "And don’t worry, I really was kidding at the whole asking you out thing. I mean, what if it leads to sex on the desk?"

"Technically we don't need to date to have sex on the desk," Beca retorts. "And no, that's not an invitation."

"Good to know. So you're really not going to tell me why I'm not your type?"

"I barely know you," Beca says.

"So? We're gonna be stacking CDs together for a long time. Might as well get to know each other."

"No thanks."

"Come on, I'll start," Matt says. "My last girlfriend was a bouncy redhead named Heather, but when she found out I was going to college down here, she wouldn't even discuss a long distance relationship and immediately dumped my ass."

"That sucks dude."

"So?"

Beca shakes her head.

"No way, I shared something. Now you have to," Matt insists.

"I never agreed to that."

"It was unspoken," Matt replies.

"No it wasn't."

"Just tell me why I'm not your type and I promise to be quiet the rest of the time we're here."

"Really?"

"Well, singing doesn't count, does it?"

"I suppose not," Beca replies. She's not exactly sure why she's so reluctant to tell him. It's not like she's hiding her sexuality. Actually, it might be the sharing part, more than anything else. After all, she just met this guy. But he's right, they are going to be seeing a lot of each other. "And I prefer girls."

"Oh," Matt nods. "Fair enough. See? That wasn't so hard."

Beca flips him off, smirking.

Matt grins in response and makes a zipping motion over his lips.

…

Classes still don’t start for another day, but that doesn't mean Rachel can't explore the theater, maybe try out the acoustics. After all, if she, a freshman, is going to get a decent part in the spring musical, she needs to start practicing.

Not that she's ever really stopped. Her summer was filled with various lessons. Knowing how busy college can be, Rachel wanted to get in as much practice as possible.

The ghost light is the only thing illuminating the stage. It creates an eerie atmosphere that is build upon with the singular echo of Rachel's heels clicking on the wood.

Standing center stage, Rachel takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. She listens for a moment because she thought she heard someone shuffling about in the audience, though she can't imagine why someone would be out there. After a moment of listening, Rachel feels like she's alone in the space. Opening her eyes, Rachel tries out the acoustics.

People
People who need people
Are the luckiest people in the world,
We're children, needing other children
And yet letting our grown-up pride
Hide all the need inside,
Acting more like children
Than children.
Lovers are very special people,
They're the luckiest people
In the world.
With one person, one very special person
A feeling deep in your soul
Says you were half,
Now you're whole.
No more hunger and thirst
But first be a person
Who needs people.
People who need people
Are the luckiest people
In the world!

With one person, one very special person
A feeling deep in your soul
Says you were half,
Now you're whole.
No more hunger and thirst
But first be a person
Who needs people.

People who need people
Are the luckiest people
In the world!

Letting the note hang in the air, Rachel gives a slight bow to her imaginary audience.

…

When Beca returns from her first day of stacking CDs, she finds Quinn practically vibrating with excitement as she sings and dances around the room. Beca shuts the door a little louder than normal to announce her presence. Quinn whirls around, looking embarrassed as she turns down the volume.

"Dionne Warwick, huh?" Beca greets.

"It fits my mood," Quinn smiles.

"And what's got you in such a good mood?"

Quinn shrugs. "I, uh, walked around the theater. It's a pretty cool space."

"Okay."

"How's the internship?"

"Sucks," Beca replies. "All I get to do is put away CDs."

"Because you're a freshman?"

"Yep."

"That does suck."

…

Rachel hears Chloe singing before she actually steps foot in the room. She has to admit, the redhead can definitely sing.

"Sounds good," Rachel says, entering the room.

Chloe stops mid word and face Rachel with a smile. "Really?"

Rachel nods. "You'll totally get in."

"I wish you'd audition with me," Chloe says.

"They wouldn’t let me in anyway," Rachel replies. "Brooke made that abundantly clear."

"Yeah, but if they heard you sing, they'd totally change their minds."

"Perhaps."

"At least come with me to the audition," Chloe tries.

"Fine," Rachel agrees. "But if you think you're going to pull me on stage and force me to audition, you're going to be disappointed."

…

The first couple days of classes are almost unbearable to Beca. She sits through mind numbing lectures on things she doesn't give a shit about and curses her dad. The only good thing is the boredom gives her a lot of mix ideas. While everyone else are taking copious notes about whatever the professor is blathering on about, she's trying to write down as much of the mixes in her head that she can.

…

Rachel tries to pay attention in her History of Theater class. While she realizes that knowing all this history is important, the professor teaching it must have the most monotone voice in the world and it's very hypnotizing, almost lulling her to sleep. It makes her wish that she was the sort of student who sat in the back, so she could hide her drooping eyes.

The blonde sitting next to her is scribbling furiously in her notebook. Rachel wants to look over and see what she deems so damn important to be taking down so quickly, but the notebook is sitting in her lap. And while Rachel is very comfortable with her bisexuality, she realizes that trying to glimpse at another girl's lap, may be construed as sexual harassment.

Instead, she lets out a soft sigh and mentally composes an email to her dads about how her first week of classes are going.

…

Having stayed up late working on the mix she'd come up with in Intro to English Lit, Beca decides the day's classes aren't worth the effort it would take to get up. She simply rolls over and pulls the covers over her head. She can hear Quinn sitting at her own desk, typing something on her laptop, but it's a nice rhythm that lulls her back to sleep.

Of course, that sleep is short lived when she's woken up by additional weight on her bed.

"Funny, this doesn’t look like your Intro to Philosophy class," her dad says.

"I'm posing an important philosophical question," Beca replies, sitting up. "If I don't actually go to that class, will it still suck?"

Her dad sighs as Beca climbs out of bed. "You're not even trying, are you?"

"I'm here when it's the last place I want to be," Beca retorts. "Isn't that enough?"

"College is a great experience, Beca," her dad says. "But you're only going to get out of it what you put into it."

"Yeah, well, I don't want anything from it," Beca tells him.

"You have to try things," her dad says, sitting at her desk and moving the mouse around. "Join in. Make some memories."

"I got a job at the radio station."

"That place, great. It's dark and dirty, and has like those three weirdos working there?"

"Well, four now," Beca replies, pointing to herself.

"You need to try something new, Beca," her dad says. "That's what college is about. Just join one club. And if, at the end of the year, you still want to leave, you still want to run off to LA and try to be P. Diddy, well, then you can quit college. And I will help you move to LA."

"Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously," he dad replies. "But only if you really try." Her dad stands and walks to the door. "This is college. Go experience it." And then he lets himself out.

…

Contrary to what she'd been expecting, Rachel isn't the best dancer in her Advanced Tap class. That title belongs to a guy named, Mike Chang.

At first, she'd been a bit annoyed. After all, she prides herself at being the best, at everything, period. But after watching him tap, Rachel's resentment has melted away. Mike is dance, in the same way she is her singing. He's poetry on the dance floor and every other cliché she can think of.

She wonders if this means she's maturing because after watching Mike dance, she doesn't hate him for his superior talent like she hated Jesse St. James in high school. Though it might also be because Jesse was an arrogant jerk off, whereas Mike seems like a nice, easygoing guy.

Being the best male and female dancer in the class, they're paired together. Their instructor, Randy, the gayest man Rachel's ever seen, and she would know, shows them their half of the dance. First Mike's part and then Rachel's.

It's definitely a test because he only shows them their part once and at a moderately fast pace. Despite her immense talent, it takes a great deal of Rachel's concentration. Mike, on the other hand, seems to be having no problems. He glides through the routine while she pushes herself to simply glide through it.

She must have been successful because everyone claps as they take small bows and Randy tells them both, "Very nice."

…

Still mulling over her dad's offer, Beca makes her way to shower. It's late enough in the day that everyone should be in class, so for once, she relaxes enough and allows herself to sing. She's been a little obsessed with Titanium lately. It's been part of her last three mixes for some strange reason and so it just slips out as she steps into the shower and turns on the water.

Just as the water is heating up, there's a voice behind her.

"Oh my god, your voice is amazing!"

Beca whips around. The redhead from the other day is standing naked in her shower stall. "Dude!" She yanks the flimsy curtain back, to cover herself.

The redhead, Chloe, she vaguely remembers, yanks the curtain back open. "Seriously, your voice…" Chloe reaches past Beca and turns off the water.

"Oh my god!" Beca exclaims, trying to cover herself.

"I know you said a cappella is lame, but you should still totally audition with me."

Beca tries not to let her eyes wander too much, but it's really difficult when there's a beautiful naked girl in her shower stall. "I can't concentrate on anything you're saying until you cover your junk."

"Just consider it," Chloe continues, taking a step closer.

Starting to feel a bit claustrophobic, which is an odd thing to feel when so exposed, Beca tries pulling the curtain back around herself. "Seriously? I am nude." Once again the curtain is pulled away as Chloe takes a step closer, so Beca faces the shower wall and looks over her shoulder.

"You were singing Titanium, right?"

This question makes Beca pause mid panic. "You know David Guetta?"

"Have I been living under a rock?" Chloe asks. "Yeah. That song is my jam." And then, which Beca really didn't think was possible, she leans in even closer. "My lady jam."

Beca feels herself blushing a little as she tries not to let that image float through her brain. "That's nice." She turns back to face the wall.

Chloe chuckles. "It is. That song really builds."

The only thing Beca can think to say is, "Gross."

Still unperturbed, and letting her eyes wander, Chloe asks, "Can you sing it for me?"

"Dude, no," Beca protests, ignoring the pleased warmth she was feeling from Chloe obviously checking her out. "Get out!"

"Oh, not for that reason," Chloe replies. "I'm not leaving 'til you sing. So you might as well…"

After a moment of Chloe standing there, waiting, Beca awkwardly turns around to face her and resolves herself to singing naked with this stalker chick, so she can shower in peace.

I'm bullet proof, nothing to lose, fire away, fire away

Smiling Chloe joins her.

Ricochet, you take your aim, fire away, fire away
Shoot me down, but I won't fall, I am titanium

The way their voices meld together takes Beca by surprise and as she stares back at Chloe while singing with her, a small smile appears.

Shoot me down, but I won't fall, I am titanium

Of course, once they're done singing, it doesn't take long for Beca to remember that she's standing naked in the shower with a stranger. Her eyes can't help but look one more time before she averts her glance.

"Oh yeah," Chloe says as if she's just realized she's naked. "I'm pretty confident about all of this." Beca can't help but stare at her boobs, since that's where Chloe seems to be gesturing.

"You should be," Beca replies. Because it's true.

Chloe grins in response.

"Uh, why do you care so much if I audition?" Beca asks since she's pretty sure the redhead isn't actually part of the Bellas yet.

"Because I'm going to audition," Chloe replies. "And if we're going to become fast friends, we should really start spending more time together."

"Well, singing naked in the shower together definitely helps that doesn't it?"

Chloe's smile grows.

"I still need to shower," Beca tells her.

"Oh. Right." Chloe takes a step back. Beca's mildly disturbed to realize she's disappointed by that. "I'll just…" And then the curtain is pulled shut.

Beca lets out a shaky sigh as she takes a step towards the now closed curtain.

"I'll see you at auditions," Chloe calls out as Beca hears her return to her own shower stall.

Beca sticks just her head out of the shower stall and manages to catch a quick glance of Chloe walking away. Definitely should be, she thinks. And then stopping that line of thought, she shakes her head and returns to her shower.

Part Three

Chloe is incredibly giddy when Rachel walks into the room.

In fact, Rachel's fairly certain that she's never seen anyone this bouncy. It's a bit disconcerting. But all she says is, "Good day?"

Chloe nods. "I saw her again."

"Who?"

"Beca, that girl with the ear spikes at the activities fair."

"Ah, yes, the one you just know should be your friend. I take it that it went well?"

"She can totally sing," Chloe replies. "And she's super hot."

"Didn't you already know that?"

"Totes. But then I heard her singing in the shower and so I had to go convince her to audition."

"You waited outside her shower stall?" Rachel questions. "That seems… a bit creepy."

"Her voice was really awesome," Chloe replies. "And we sounded even more awesome singing together."

Rachel who is about to sit on her bed, actually pauses mid sit and stares at Chloe. "Um, so you're saying…"

"I may have burst in on her in the shower," Chloe says.

"You're not worried that your stalker like behavior will scare her away?"

Chloe shakes her head, grinning. "She sang with me, didn't she?"

…

"Don't you have any classes today?" Beca asks Quinn when she returns from her shower.

"Uh, yeah," Quinn replies. "This morning."

Beca looks at the clock and sees that it's almost three. "Oh. Yeah."

"What club are you going to join?" Quinn asks as Beca begins to change.

"I have no idea, but…"

"But?"

"You remember that redhead I told you about? That I ran into at the activities fair?"

"At the a cappella booth?"

Beca nods and then realizes that Quinn isn't looking at her. "Yeah. Her. She, uh, I just ran into her again and she told me I have to audition for the Bellas."

Quinn half turns and seeing Beca mostly dressed, faces her. "Why are you acting so weird? I mean, I know you said she was hot, but still."

"Shemayhaveburstinonmeintheshowerandmademesingwithher," Beca lets out in a rush.

"I'm sorry, did you say that she burst in on you in the shower?"

Beca nods.

"That's…forward."

Beca nods again.

"So you have a stalker?"

"I'm not sure I'd call her a stalker," Beca replies, conveniently forgetting she'd thought the same thing earlier.

"She burst in on you in the shower," Quinn points out.

"Uh huh, and all those drawings of that girl you heard singing last week? You don't think she'll be weirded out that you've been staring at her every time you see her? Or that you've drawn dozens of pictures of her."

"She's an actress," Quinn replies. "She'll probably be flattered."

Beca raises an eyebrow. "If you really thought that was true, you would have already introduced yourself."

"I…"

Quinn seems so flustered, so Beca decides to drop it. What little Quinn has shared about her dad, makes Beca almost grateful for own situation, especially after what her dad offered earlier; at least her dad tries. Quinn's dad… "Can't I just tag along with you and like make costumes or build a set? That should totally cont."

Quinn looks relieved. "Do you even know how to do either of those things?"

"Well, no," Beca replies. "But I can learn. And sometimes even follow instructions."

"And the radio station?"

Beca waves the concern away. "I can stack CDs anytime. Besides, if, and I emphasis if, those stuck up bitches actually let me in the group, wouldn't I have rehearsal to add to my schedule? If I help you out, I can just go on my own time."

"Yeah, I don't think that was what your dad was going for," Quinn replies.

"So what? I go to him with a list of possibilities and he can tell me the ones he approves of?"

"Well, no," Quinn says. "That doesn't sound like something you'd ever actually do. I'm just saying that what you're suggesting doesn't seem to fit with what he was asking. And that if he thinks you're not putting yourself out there enough, he might say you didn't follow through or whatever and not help you if you still want to leave at the end of the year."

"Why wouldn't I want to still leave?" Beca questions. "I mean, besides you… and I guess Matt, down at the station, there's nothing here worth staying around for."

"What about your naked stalker?"

Beca grins, but quickly sobers. "Um…"

"You like her."

"Well, she's not normally someone I would hang out with," Beca replies. "But her enthusiasm is certainly… infectious. And, well she's definitely persistent."

"She's hot and you've already seen her naked," Quinn adds. "And she obviously likes you."

"Not like that she doesn't," Beca retorts. "She's just really nice and apparently a fan of a good singing voice."

"She burst in on you in the shower," Quinn points out.

"So what? You're saying she was hitting on me?"

"I wouldn't presume to know anything," Quinn retorts. "I'm just saying that you're defending your stalker pretty vehemently."

"She's not a stalker," Beca insists. "And she does have a name."

"Which is?" Quinn asks. "Technically when you told me the story, you never said her name."

"Chloe."

"You should see the look on your face right now," Quinn says. "You totally like her."

"Oh, just thought of a mix idea. Better sit down and figure it out before I lose it," Beca replies, sitting at her desk.

"Like you didn't mock me for ten minutes when you found my drawings the other day," Quinn manages to say before the headphones are firmly back on Beca's head.

…

The blonde in her History of Theater class is still scribbling furiously. Rachel's starting to wonder if she's some sort of weird history junkie. Which sounds absurd, Rachel knows, but her daddy once told her a story from law school about these people that everyone called, "law junkies" and apparently they just liked to fawn over pivotal court cases like Rachel fawns over Barbra.

And even though she's not sure of her name, Rachel will definitely be asking to borrow her notes if she ever misses a class.

Towards the end, Rachel's phone begins to vibrate. Thankfully, since it's in her bag, Rachel is really the only one to hear it; well, her and the blonde sitting next to Rachel. She ignores it and continues to listen to the professor. Except that it keeps buzzing; she can feel the blonde next to her glancing Rachel's way. She starts to get a bit paranoid. What if it's an emergency?

Luckily, class ends as her phone buzzes for the eighth time. She reaches into and pulls out her phone. It's Chloe.

"Chloe," Rachel answers. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. No. I don't know."

"Okay, take a deep breath and tell me what's wrong," Rachel says.

"I'm panicking about the auditions this afternoon."

"You shouldn't be," Rachel replies. "You'll be perfect and they'll love you."

"But what if I mess up?'

"Then you'll start over and totally wow them," Rachel tells her.

"What if they won't let me?"

"Then I'll make them."

Chloe chuckles. "I appreciate the effort, Rachel, but I'm not sure that'll work."

"I'm tougher than I look Chloe," Rachel huffs.

Chloe is now genuinely laughing.

"Keep that up, missy and I won't be going with you this afternoon."

This seems to sober her as the laughter quickly dies away.

"I'm sorry," she says finally. "I was just picturing you attacking Brooke and trying to tap her to death."

"You mean with tap dancing?" Rachel asks. "Is that even possible?"

"I believe you would be excellent at attacking people using unrelated performance skills, yes."

Rachel chuckles. "Class just finished. So I'll be back soon and you can practice one more time if you want."

"Deal," Chloe says. "Thanks Rachel."

As Rachel ends her phone call, she's surprised to find the blonde sitting next to her since the rest of the class, including the professor has already left.

"Hi," she says.

"Hello," Rachel replies.

"I know this is a bit forward, but who were you talking to?"

Curious as to why she cares, Rachel answers, "My roommate."

"Redhead?"

Now Rachel's getting slightly weirded out. "Um, yeah?"

"Your roommate is a redhead named Chloe?" she asks.

"Why?"

"Because my roommate, Beca," she says. "Well, she's run into Chloe a couple times and she kind of likes her."

"Oh."

"But I think she's too… I don't know, shy, I guess, to talk to her," the blonde continues. "And I thought if the four of us hung out, she could relax a bit and, you know, get to know her."

"You're not worried that Chloe isn't interested?" Rachel questions.

"They're comfortable enough with each other to sing together in the nude," the blonde retorts.

"That does seem to be true," Rachel agrees. "But how do I know you're who you say you are?"

"Who else would know about the shower thing?" she replies. "Especially since it just happened yesterday."

"Excellent point," Rachel says. "I don't think I caught your name."

"Oh. Quinn. Quinn Fabray."

"I'm Rachel Berry."

Quinn nods, grinning. "So what do you think?"

"I do know that Chloe wouldn't mind," Rachel says. "So, okay. Do you just want to come over to our room Friday night? I have an extensive movie collection."

"Beca's really not a movie fan," Quinn says. "In fact, it takes a lot of persuasion to convince her to watch one."

"Oh. Well, as I said, I do have an extensive collection. I'll pick out a few that a cold hard cynic may like and we'll see. I have enough that there has to be something she'd be willing to watch."

"That sounds great," Quinn replies. "She'll be thrilled."

"Maybe it can even be a celebration that they both got into the Bellas," Rachel continues.

"If Beca auditions," Quinn says. "She's still on the fence about it."

"I hope she goes. Chloe'll be disappointed if she doesn't."

"I'll mention that to her," Quinn replies.

…

"Don't hate me."

After hours of stacking CDs, this is not the greeting Beca needs. "Not a good opening, Quinn."

"I talked to her today," Quinn says. "Her name's Rachel Berry."

"Congrats," Beca replies. "Why would I be mad about that?"

"Um, well, apparently, she's roommates with your stalker," Quinn explains.

"How do you know that?" Beca asks.

"I overheard them talking on the phone."

"Okay. And why am I mad?" Beca prompts.

"I may have suggested that the four of us hang out Friday night because you like her."

"What?! Why the hell would you do that? What if she tells her?"

"Did I lie?"

"Don't even, dude," Beca replies. "Unless you want me to tell Rachel that you've been drawing dozens of pictures of her for the past week."

"My situation is entirely different," Quinn insists. "You've already had conversations with Chloe."

"At her insistence," Beca counters. "You share a class with Rachel. You could have talked to her anytime."

"Which I did," Quinn replies. "Today."

Beca groans. "So the four of us are hanging out Friday?"

Quinn nods.

Beca lets out an even louder groan. "And what are we doing?"

Quinn's voice becomes quiet. "Watching a movie in their room?"

"A movie, really?"

"I told Rachel that you're a tough sell on movies and she said she'd try to have something besides the usual."

"Great."

"And Chloe must like you too," Quinn adds. "After all Rachel has no problem telling the truth, no matter what and if her roommate didn't like you, I think she might have said something."

"You better be right, Quinn."

"Thanks," Quinn replies. "I just couldn't work up the nerve without a good reason. You know?"

Beca nods. Because she does understand. "You totally owe me."

"Hardly," Quinn scoffs. "You get to hang out properly with your stalker and I get a chance to get to know Rachel. It's win win for both of us."

"I meant for making me watch a movie," Beca replies.

"Whatever," Quinn retorts. "You never know. You might actually like the movie that Rachel picks."

"We'll see, but somehow I doubt it."

"Oh and you're auditioning for the Bellas this afternoon," Quinn tells her.

"What? Why?"

"Because I promised you would."

"Why do I have a feeling you're leaving out important parts of your conversation?"

Quinn shrugs.

"This girl better be worth it," Beca grumbles.

…

Chloe is pacing when Rachel enters the room.

"What took you so long?"

"I had a very interesting conversation once we hung up," Rachel explains.

"With?"

"Beca's roommate."

This catches Chloe's attention.

"And you know this because?"

"Because the four of us are going to hang out on Friday night and watch a movie," Rachel explains.

"We are? Why?"

"Because you want to get to know her better and this seems like a good start."

"Whose idea was it?" Chloe asks.

"The roommate's, Quinn, actually."

"Hmmm."

"What?"

"Why do I feel like you're not telling me everything?"

"We just thought it'd be fun," Rachel says. "You want to get to know Beca. Quinn seems intriguing enough and she obviously has some interest in theater since we were in History of Theater and no one takes that unless they have to."

"That I get."

"Isn't that what college is about?" Rachel asks. "Making new friends?"

Chloe raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, fine," Rachel huffs. "Quinn's kind of hot. Are you happy?"

Grinning, Chloe nods.

"Good," Rachel says. "Now that that's settled, let's hear your song one more time."

Part Four

"Can't we just say we got the time wrong?" Beca asks. She knows she's pretty close to whining, but she can't help it. She has no need to join an a capella group. The only problem is that the only choices are even less desirable.

"I don't know why you're worried," Quinn replies. "You've got a great voice."

"How do you know that?"

"Because you sometimes sing while you're mixing songs," Quinn tells her.

"I do not."

"You do," Quinn nods.

Beca groans.

…

Rachel had already planned on going to the auditions with Chloe, wanting to be supportive, especially since the Bellas seemed like a really cruel bunch. However, as she sits in the back row, trying to stay out of sight, she can admit she's more curious about whether or not Beca will show up. Though, she has a feeling that Quinn will actually physically drag Beca here if needed. Recognizing the familiar sheer tenacity in the blonde is really why Rachel agreed to Quinn's plan.

Chloe is sitting in the third row where are the hopefuls are supposed to sit. The Treble Makers are sitting in the middle, looking causal and arrogant. The Bellas are seated in the front row, house right, looking formal and intimating. The BU Harmonics are huddled between the other two groups, looking intense. The High Notes are nowhere to be seen, but somehow that doesn't really surprise Rachel. She's starting to wonder if anyone in the group can actually sing or if it's just a cover for a marijuana group.

When the clock strikes exactly four, a dark haired guy jumps onto stage.

"My name is David and I am running this audition," he announces. "For your audition, each of you will be singing sixteen bars of Kelly Clarkson's Since You've Been Gone. If a group likes you, they will contact you directly. My tone deaf side kick here, Justin will be collecting your information."

Justin walks across the stage and down the small stairs, stage right. "If I could sing a lick, in any human way possible, I would, but I can't. And I hate myself everyday for it."

"I know," David says, as Justin goes through the audience, gathering everyone's information.

Rachel doesn't really pay attention to the guys. She's only curious as to what kind of competition Chloe's going to have.

The girls are a different story. Having been told that the Bellas have a certain type, Rachel finds herself trying to decide who does and doesn't fit the type they seem to be looking for. Very few seem to. Rachel supposes that's why the group is so small; they seem to have ridiculous standards. Because most people that audition can sing well, but only a handful of the girls have "bikini read bodies".

Rachel's attention is also drawn to the girl sitting in the row ahead of her. She's blonde and apparently very snarky since she seems to have commentary on everyone on stage, but more so for the members of the a capella groups. Rachel can't help but laugh.

After one particularly hilarious comment, Rachel laughs a little too loud and finds the blonde's eyes on her. She doesn't seem upset. In fact, she seems pleased by Rachel's reaction.

"Sorry," Rachel whispers.

"It's okay. I'm glad I'm not the only one who finds this a bit amusing," she responds. "Though, why are you here?"

Now that she's speaking directly to Rachel, the girl's Australian accent is obvious.

"Support for me roommate," Rachel replies.

"Oooh, which one?" she asks. "I didn't insult her, did I?"

Rachel shakes her head. "She was the redhead."

"Oh. She was good. And probably exactly what those Bella bitches are looking for."

Rachel nods. "I know."

"You don't sound happy about that."

"Well, it's just that Chloe's so nice and they're so…not."

"Cruel cunts is what I call them."

"Accurate, yet crass," Rachel replies.

The blonde grins. "I’m Fat Amy."

"You call yourself Fat Amy?" Rachel asks.

Fat Amy nods. "Yeah, so the skinny twig bitches don't do it behind my back."

Rachel smiles. "I'm Rachel." She leans forward, so she can better hear Fat Amy. "So how come you're not auditioning?"

"Oh, well I won't get in," Fat Amy replies. "And I'm not up for the rejection this year."

"You've auditioned before?"

"My freshman and sophomore year," Fat Amy confirms. "Not only did they not let me in, but they were incredibly and unnecessarily insulting. I've never been more glad that I call myself Fat Amy before. They were brutal."

Rachel nods. "Brooke had some particularly choice words for me, too."

"You were going to audition?"

"No, but Chloe was interested."

"Ah. Yeah, Brooke is pretty bad, but Lizzie is the worse."

"Which one is she?"

"She's the leader," Fat Amy answers.

"The one with the pitch pipe?" Rachel asks.

"Yep."

"Why the hell does she have it now?" Rachel questions. "They're not going to sing too are they?"

"No, that's just their thing."

"God, I hope Chloe knows what she's getting into."

…

"Okay, so that was everyone," David says. "Not the best I've seen, but not the worst."

Self-conscious, Beca walks on stage and stands next to David. "Um… I know I'm a bit late, but…"

David looks at her with contempt, but nods.

"I didn't know we had to prepare that song," Beca continues.

Yes, well, then you can't audition," one of the Bellas huffs.

"Just let her sing whatever she wants," one of the Treble Makers calls out. "It's not like you chicks are going to win anything anyway."

"Shove it Bumper, we don't take advice from you."

"Let her sing!" someone else in the audience calls out. Others begin to join in.

"Fine," the Bella huffs. "Sing whatever the hell you want."

Beca nods and looks around the stage for a moment. Seeing a plastic cup sitting offstage, she disappears a moment to grab it. When she returns, she sits with her legs crossed near the edge of the stage. She sets the cup upside down in front of her and begins clapping.

I got my ticket for the long way ‘round
Two bottle ‘a whiskey for the way
And I sure would like some sweet company
And I’m leaving tomorrow, wha-do-ya say?

When I’m gone
When I’m gone
You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone
You’re gonna miss me by my hair
You’re gonna miss me everywhere, oh
You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone

Feeling triumphant, Beca can't help but slam the cup down for the final beat. She looks up at the audience, smirking.

…

Rachel is impressed with Beca's audition. Her voice is as incredible as Chloe claimed and the rhythm she clapped out was perfect. Though, Rachel thinks her favorite part might be the arrogant smirk that Beca finished with. She appreciates that kind of confidence. She hopes Beca gets in for Chloe's sake, but more so because she has a feeling that Brooke and the others would hate it.

"Well, well," Fat Amy says as Beca stands and shuffles off stage. "That was different."

"You almost sound impressed," Rachel replies.

"I am," Fat Amy says. "Whether she meant to or not, she put those stuck up bitches in their place for a moment."

"Because…"

"Because she auditioned her own way, her voice is awesome and that whole cup thing shows she's got rhythm and could easily follow a routine. But then you add to that her style, and I'm pretty sure the Bellas won't pick her."

"That's too bad."

"So how'd I do?"

Rachel looks up to find a glowing Chloe standing next to her.

"You were aca-mazing," Fat Amy says. "You'll totally get in."

Chloe looks appreciative, but bemused. "Thanks."

"Um, this is Fat Amy," Rachel introduces.

"Fat Amy?"

Rachel nods.

"Okay then." Chloe sits next to Rachel. "Did you see? Beca showed up."

"Just barely," Rachel says.

"You know her?" Fat Amy asks, raising an eyebrow.

"I heard her sing and I told her, she should audition," Chloe explains.

"Did you?"

The tone of Fat Amy's voice, tells Rachel that Chloe's crush on Beca is obvious.

Chloe nods.

"Hmph, well then let's hope that she gets in," is all Fat Amy says.

…

"I'd thought you'd audition," Beca says to Quinn as they leave the auditorium.

"Why?"

"To try and impress Rachel."

"Who says I can sing?" Quinn asks.

"Who says you can't?" Beca counters.

Quinn shakes her head. "It doesn't matter. I've heard her sing, raw and unfiltered and it was the most astonishing thing I've ever heard."

"Holy shit, you've got it bad."

"You couldn't have figured it out from the drawings?" Quinn questions. "Besides, I'll be busy enough. Apparently being a freshman theater major means you get stuck doing a lot of extra shit that the upperclassmen don't want to do."

"Just refuse," Beca retorts. "Your professors are the only ones whose opinions matter anyway."

"Yeah and they totally support the put the newbies through the wringer," Quinn replies. "After all, it's a tradition."

"Oooh, are you going to get hazed?"

"God, I hope not."

…

When Mike asks Rachel if she wants to hang out Saturday night, she's honestly not sure if he's asking her on a date or to just hang out. She answers immediately because honestly, it doesn't matter. She likes him either way. They've hung out a couple times after Advanced Tap and she's always had fun.

Walking across campus with him, she spots Quinn. Now that Rachel knows her name and not just as the crazy blonde note taker in History of Theater class, she's been seeing her around more.

When Quinn looks up from the textbook she's reading and meets Rachel's eyes, Rachel waves. Quinn waves back, though it looks awkward. Rachel knows she just met Quinn, but the unreadable expression on her face stays with Rachel for the rest of the afternoon.

…

"So did I see you leaving the a capella auditions yesterday?"

Beca looks at Matt in surprise. "What?"

"I did, didn't I?"

"How do you know I was leaving the a cappella audition?" Beca asks.

"One of the Treble Makers tried to get me to audition," Matt replies. "Um, Donald, I think his name was. Told me the when and where."

"You didn't audition then?"

"Um, no," Matt says. "That's why you didn't see me at the audition."

"Oh, well I was late," Beca replies. "I had to work up a bit of nerve to go through with it."

"I bet," Matt chuckles. "I just can't picture you singing Since You've Been Gone."

"Well, I didn't."

"They let you sing another song?" Matt questions. "I heard the Bellas are pretty strict about that sort of thing."

Beca shrugs. "Maybe. But the Treble Makers were all about it."

"Ah, yeah, that I can see."

"What's that mean?"

"I ended up talking to them for a while," Matt explains. "I don't know why, but they wouldn’t let me leave. Anyway, I heard quite the commentary on the Bellas."

"And you're not sharing?"

"Well, a lot of it isn't appropriate for mixed company," Matt mutters.

"Don't think of me as a girl you're worried about insulting," Beca tells him. "Think of me as a fellow freshman who's doomed to stacking CDs all year."

"You want to be bros?"

"Um… yeah, I guess that's one way to put it," Beca replies.

"Well, then we should hang out tonight," Matt says. "Normally I'd say we should drink and watch something, but since you hate movies, we could just talk music and drink instead."

"Now that is something I could get behind," Beca replies. "But unfortunately, I can't."

"I won't start calling you bro, if that's what you're worried about."

Beca smirks at him. "No, I apparently already have plans."

"Apparently?"

"My roommate has this crush on this girl, but she's too scared to really talk to her, so she used me as an excuse and so we're going hang out with the other girl and her roommate tonight and watch movies."

"But you hate movies," Matt points out.

"I don't hate movies," Beca replies. "I just… they're all so predictable. The guy gets the girl, the underdog wins the competition and everyone lives happily ever after."

"I'm not sure that's entirely true," Matt says. "I can think of plenty of movies where they don't live happily ever after."

"How do you know, though?" Beca asks. "I mean, after the credits start rolling, there's no way to know."

"Well, yeah, because movies are usually just about one part of the journey that is life."

Beca stops stacking CDs and turns to face Matt. "That was really deep, dude."

Matt shrugs, looking a bit embarrassed. "Sorry. Philosophy major."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"No offense, dude, but what the hell are you going to do with a philosophy degree?"

"Besides teach? Probably nothing. Which is why my parents are making me double major in business as well."

"Oh."

"Am I going to have to separate the two of you?" Luke interrupts, handing them another crate of CDs.

"Course not," Matt replies, taking the crate.

"Does that no sex on the desk apply to this whole room or just the desk?" Beca asks.

"The whole room," Luke grins. "Especially because if you knock over all these shelves, you'll be in here cleaning up until everything's back the way it was. Like, I won't even let you leave to go to class."

"That's kidnapping."

"Technically it'd be holding you hostage," Luke retorts. "But don't knock over the shelves and it won't matter."

"Right," Beca says. "No sex anywhere in the radio station."

"That includes the bathroom," Luke adds as he heads back to the booth.

"Wait a minute, we have a bathroom in here?"

more

fic: Worrisome to Watch

2013-01-27T15:18:16Z

Okay, so I was going to wait to post until I'd finished this damn series, but I'm stuck and then I started a Bechloe/Faberry cross, which I already put up, so I thought I'd at least put up what I have and hope it motivates me to finish. Thanks again for the patience, if you're still reading this.

Title: Worrisome to Watch
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, Puck, Quinn, Brittany/Marisa, Mike/Wendy, Sue
Rating: light R for language
Summary: This time when Santana participates in a Chess Boxing Tournament, she has more of a familiar audience.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~6,450
Spoilers: specific references to It Went Swimmingly and That Went Well
A/N: Follows Letting the Cat Out of the Bag. For the anon who requested more chess boxing way back in chapter 30.
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.

series masterlist

"Lopez, whatever you're doing Friday night has changed."

"It has?"

"Yep," Puck nods. "You're entering another chess boxing match."

"I am?"

Puck nods again. "Hell yeah, bad ass."

"Fine, but Rach said she wanted to come with the next time."

"Really?"

Santana nods.

"Cool. The more, the merrier," Puck replies. "I figured miss non violence wouldn't approve."

Santana shrugs. "You'll have to ask her."

"All right. Later, Lopez."

…

"You talk to Puck today?" Santana asks Rachel when she finds her between second and third.

"No," Rachel replies. "But I did get a text from him that said you were looking for me. Which I found odd."

"Figures," Santana grumbles. "Well I do need to talk to you."

"Oh?"

"You remember last year when I won a chess boxing match?"

"You mean when you let Quinn think I beat you?" Rachel asks.

"Right. That. Uh, well before that, you said that if I ever went again, you'd want to come."

"I did," Rachel nods.

"Well Puck says there's one on Friday and that we're going. You in?"

"Absolutely."

"Cool," Santana says. "See you at lunch?"

Rachel nods, kisses Santana lightly and skips off to her next class.

…

"Rachy says you're boxing again this weekend," Brittany says as she sits next to Santana at lunch.

Santana nods.

"Can I come? And maybe Marisa?"

"Marisa wants to come?"

Brittany shrugs. "But if she wants to, I want her to have the option."

"You want who to have what option?" Quinn asks, sitting across from Brittany.

"Hi Quinn. Want to come cheer on Santana this weekend?"

"For what?"

"Chess boxing."

"Didn't you do one of those last year?" Quinn asks.

"I did," Santana nods.

"Sounds interesting," Quinn says. "I'm in."

"Wait a minute," Santana interjects. "I never said I wanted an entourage."

"You deserve one," Brittany says.

"Deserve what?" Mike asks, sitting next to Quinn.

"An entourage," Quinn answers.

"Because she's going to kick ass this weekend at chess boxing."

"Seriously?" Mike exclaims. "That sounds awesome. Count me in."

"What? No," Santana says.

"Why not?" Mike asks.

"Yeah," Brittany adds. "Don't you want our support?" she asks, pouting.

"Not fair, B," Santana tells her. "No pouting."

"But it gets me what I want," Brittany protests.

"Personally, I think it'd be fun," Rachel says, sitting on Santana's other side.

"You do?"

Rachel nods. "Noah said you were pretty awesome last time. Everyone should get to see."

"I don't know."

Rachel wraps her hands around Santana's arm and leans in, blinking pleadingly, "Please, tiger?"

Santana sighs as she closes her eyes. It's so not fair that her best friend and her girlfriend are using pouting to get their way. How is she supposed to resist that?

"Fine. But if this turns into some sort of weird glee excursion--"

"It won't," Rachel assures her.

"Yeah," Brittany adds. "We're done talking about it. Right guys?"

Mike nods.

"Whatever," Quinn says.

"All right then. I guess you guys can be my entourage," Santana tells them.

"Yay," Brittany exclaims quietly.

…

Thursday morning, Rachel has only taken one step inside McKinley when Becky is at her side.

“Good morning, Becky,” Rachel greets. “Are you here for you or Coach Sylvester?”

“She wants to see you,” Becky replies. “Said I should grab you the minute you step foot inside.”

“Mission accomplished,” Rachel says. “Lead the way, then.”

Becky nods and they walk the rest of the way without talking. When they reach Coach Sylvester’s office, Becky knocks twice and then opens it. She beckons Rachel to follow her. Rachel does and takes a seat as she waits for Coach Sylvester to acknowledge her.

“Berry,” Coach Sylvester says, looking up from her journal. “I wanted to talk to you about your girl.”

“All right.”

“I overheard Britt and Q talking about Lopez boxing again this weekend.”

“Okay.”

“We’re not going to have a repeat of last time, are we?”

“I hope not,” Rachel replies.

“Because I don’t need that kind of drama right now,” Coach Sylvester continues.

“Well, it’s sort of become a group excursion,” Rachel explains. “Me, Britt, Quinn, Mike. We’re all going with to cheer San on. So there shouldn’t be any confusion about where her injuries are from.”

“You’re really all going just to watch Lopez box?”

“It’s not just boxing,” Rachel says. “Did San ever explain it?”

“She did not.”

“Well, apparently it’s actually chess and boxing. You play chess than you box. Then repeat until there’s a winner on the chess board or in the ring.”

“You don’t say.”

“Uh huh,” Rachel replies. “Apparently last year, she beat three different guys to win.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked her,” Coach Sylvester nods. “Do you know where it’s at?”

“No,” Rachel says. “Apparently it’s kind of an underground thing. Noah’s the only one that knows where it’s at.”

“All right. Well, as long as there won’t be any issues next week.”

“Not related to that,” Rachel replies.

“You’re free to go then, Berry.”

Rachel stands, bows slightly with a smirk on her face and exits.

…

“Becky,” Coach Sylvester says once Rachel has exited the office. “I need you to find out as much information about this chess boxing thing that’s happening this weekend.”

“Of course, Coach.”

“Good. Good. Preferably by lunch tomorrow.”

“Okay, Coach.”

…

Friday night, everyone meets at Rachel's. Since there are eight of them, they're taking two vehicles, Puck's and Mike's. Rachel, Santana and Puck squeeze into his truck, while Mike follows with Wendy, Quinn, Brittany and Marisa.

"This is the weirdest field trip ever," Quinn grumbles from the backseat.

"You're just mad you have to sit in the back," Brittany says, next to her.

"Because I'm always in the backseat."

"At least no one's sitting on your lap," Marisa says.

"You can sit up front if you really want, Quinn," Wendy says.

"No she can't," Mike says.

"What? Why not?"

"My car," Mike replies. "I get to say who sits where."

"Jeez, you're worse than Berry," Quinn tells him.

"Thanks," Mike smirks.

…

Meanwhile, in the truck, each of the three occupants are doing their best to distract themselves from their nervousness. Santana is nervous for obvious reasons. Rachel is nervous for Santana; because she wants her to win, but knows seeing her hurt will be difficult. While Puck is worried that the entire outing will end badly; he's not worried about Santana, because he's confident that she'll win.

Each is dealing with it in their own way. Puck has turned up the music as loud as Rachel will allow and the two of them are singing along. Because singing always seems to help Rachel relax. Santana, on the other hand, has her hand intertwined with Rachel's and has no intention of letting go until she has to.

This is how the three of them spend the seventy-five minute drive.

…

When Puck pulls up and parks next to an abandoned warehouse, no one wants to get out of Mike's car.

"Trust Puckerman to take us to the set of a horror movie," Quinn says.

"I don't know what you guys are so worried about," Marisa says the middle seat. "Between Rachel and Santana…and even, uh, you, Quinn, no one's going to mess with us."

Mike chuckles.

"You're not insulted that she didn't include you?" Wendy asks.

Mike shakes his head. "Naw, but Puck would be." He undoes his seatbelt. "C'mon guys. They're waiting and we don’t want to piss off Santana."

"That's for damn sure," Quinn says, slowly getting out of the car.

"You really know how to pick 'em," Mike tells Puck.

Puck shrugs. "I just go where the action is."

When the reach the door of the building, Puck knocks in code.

"Secret knocks, really?" Quinn scoffs.

"Was that morose code?" Brittany asks.

Everyone follows Puck through a maze of darkness and corner until they come to a card table. Behind it sits a balding middle aged guy in a flannel shirt. On the table is a clipboard, a stack of paper and a cash box.

"Name?" he asks.

"Santana Lopez," Puck replies.

He consults the clipboard. "Mmm. Right. Previous winner. Your entry fee is waved as long as you still have your ticket…"

Santana produces a small red piece of paper and hands it over.

"Excellent." He makes a couple notes on his clipboard. "Through those doors. Same as before, I'm sure."

Santana nods and leads the group through the double doors.

"All right, this is where we split up," Puck says. He points to the bleachers against one wall. "You guys have a seat. I'll coach Lopez through this."

"How long until it starts?" Marisa asks.

"Uh, a half hour, I think," he replies.

As Mike, Wendy, Marisa, Brittany and Quinn find seats, Rachel pushes Santana up against the closest wall and kisses her had, pressing her entire body against her and letting her knee slip between Santana's legs.

It goes on long enough that Puck starts clearing his throat. He finally grabs Rachel but the shoulder and pulls them apart.

"That was for good luck," Rachel smirks. She leans in. "Win and I'll do whatever you want later, tiger."

Still trying to catch her breath, Santana nods.

"All right, bro," Puck says. "That's enough."

"Incentive, Noah."

"Distraction, Rach."

"I'll see you after, babe?"

Rachel nods and skips to join the others on the bleachers.

…

"The constant eye sex wasn’t enough for you, Berry?" Quinn asks as Rachel sits next to her in the bleachers.

"I just wanted to wish her luck," Rachel replies. "Despite my stance on violence, I can't help but find this whole situation a bit of a turn on."

"Ahhh! I don't need to hear that," Quinn growls.

Rachel just smirks. Like everyone else, she lets her eyes wander around the room, trying to take it all in. After a few moments, she sees what she was looking for.

"I need to go take care of something," she says, jumping up.

"Bathroom?" Wendy asks. "Because I don't think that's a good idea, here."

"Not the bathroom. I should be back momentarily."

And before anyone can respond, she's hopping down the bleachers and disappearing into the crowd.

…

Once Rachel leaves, Puck and Santana head over to the registration table to sign in. They hand her a number, 3, ask her height and weight, before placing her in the bracket. Just like before, there are seven other contenders. The only difference is every one of them has participated in at least other chess boxing match. Santana tries not to let that worry her. Instead, she and Puck find a quiet corner she can warm up in.

…

His name is supposedly Jon. He's dressed in a leather jacket, jeans and sunglasses.

"Hey there, little lady," he greets.

"You're Jon?"

"I am," he nods.

"I need to place two separate bets, please."

"Of course." He pulls out a small notebook. "Go ahead."

"Um, one on Santana Lopez to win and I want to put down five hundred dollars."

"All right." He makes a couple notes. "Just so you know, her odds are 10 to 1." When Rachel just nods, he makes a few more notes and then rips out a sheet of paper. "Your receipt."

"Thanks," Rachel says, accepting the piece of paper.

"And the other?"

"One hundred dollars for Santana Lopez to win," Rachel replies.

Jon raises an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything as he scribbles in his notebook. After a moment, he hands over the other piece of paper and then holds out his hand.

Rachel hands over thirty twenty dollar bills. Jon counts it twice and then nods.

As Rachel's turning around to return to her seat, she runs into someone in a navy tracksuit.

"Coach Sylvester!"

"Berry."

"You're here."

"I am," she replies. "Placing a bet, actually."

"How much?" Jon asks.

"A thousand. On Santana Lopez winning it all."

"She's a popular girl tonight," Jon says, writing in his notebook.

"I'd ask if you want to join us, Coach," Rachel says. "But I already know the answer."

"If you were just with B, maybe," Coach Sylvester replies. "But I'm pretty sure my appearance would make Kory's head explode."

"Quinn's too."

"I'm not so sure about Fabray, actually," Coach Sylvester says. "But either way."

"Well, then perhaps I'll see you after."

Coach Sylvester chuckles, shaking her head. "Only you could make it sound like we're just at a tea party, Berry."

Rachel smirks, half shrugs and then disappears back into the crowd.

…

Rachel's thankful that Santana is up first. She knows she'll be sitting through a number of matches tonight, but waiting for Santana's matches is going to be the most difficult part; even more than watching Santana get hurt. It's usually the waiting that's Rachel's problem.

"Nervous?" Mike asks, leaning in to be heard.

Rachel's nods.

"Are you going to be able to watch this?"

Rachel nods again.

"But speaking seems to be out of the question?"

Rachel nods once more.

"All right then." Mike leans away from Rachel and whispers something in Wendy's ear. After a moment, she glances over at Rachel and nods. Mike leans back to Rachel and wraps his arm around her. "It'll be okay, Rach."

"Thanks," Rachel tells him, leaning into him as the first round of chess ends and the first round of boxing begins.

…

Santana is shocked when she wins her first match by knockout. Her opponent is taller than Puck and all muscle. He does all right on the chessboard, but Santana figures he won with brute force and just enough chess knowledge to get through two rounds.

But a lucky punch at the beginning of the second round of boxing takes him down. He doesn't get up in time and Santana is declared the winner.

…

Three more matches and then Santana is up again. She's up against a guy that reminds Rachel a little of Mike. The guy's obviously in good shape, but she'd never peg him as a boxer. And from his first round match, Rachel is pretty sure he isn't. He won very quickly in the second round of chess.

Santana's strategy seems to be beating him during the boxing rounds. It doesn't help that he seems to quite adept at dodging her punches. There's a lot more dancing during the boxing round than everyone has seen this evening. It seems pretty clear that this match is going to be won on the chess board.

It happens in the seventh round of chess, when the audience is beginning to wonder if the match is ever going to end. Check is called and Rachel feels her hopes drop. She knows that check doesn't mean it's automatically over, but it does put Santana in a tough spot.

Except, Santana doesn't seem upset. Instead, she's grinning like a maniac. She moves a piece and when her opponent makes his move, he doesn't repeat check, like everyone is expecting. And then Santana makes her move, she says, "Checkmate."

A hush falls over the crowd as the ref approaches the board. He examines it for a moment before grabbing Santana's arm and declaring her the winner.

…

The other semi final round is arduous to watch. It's brutal and harsh, while still being an extreme mental challenge on the chess board. There's a screen showing what's happening in the ring and Rachel is impressed with the speed that they both play.

She worries about Santana. She knows her girlfriend hates to lose and that she'll throw herself completely into the final match. Rachel just hopes that it ends okay.

…

"All right, Lopez," Puck says as they wait for the bell to ring. "You fucking got this."

Santana nods.

"You're the biggest badass I know. And so fucking awesome that I don't mind handing over that title."

"If you ever had it," Santana replies.

"It's debatable," Puck says. "But you're going to go out there and kick his ass in the ring and on the board. Because you won't let yourself do anything less."

Santana nods again.

"Plus, Rach is out there. You gotta win it for your girl."

Santana rolls her eyes, but nods.

"Right then. Go out there and show him who's boss."

…

The last round is tense. Even though everyone's seen Santana take on two other opponents, seeing her in the ring with a six foot three, two-hundred fifty pound man is startling. Rachel tries to remember why she wanted to see this.

"You okay?" Mike whispers, his arm still around her.

"I don't know."

"She'll be fine, you know," Mike replies. "She's Santana fucking Lopez."

"I know," Rachel says. "But I still…"

"I know," Mike tells her.

…

The final match is long. Santana may be outmatched physically, but she can still hold her own. She dodges a lot and tries to get in punches that will do real damage.

The chess is different. Santana brushed up on her chess playing as soon as Puck told her about the match, but she has a feeling this guy, Darren, has been honing his skills a bit longer. Still, she's not going to go down without a fight and so she tries the circular tease that she used last time.

It seems to work because in the sixth round of chess, he makes a fatal mistake that allows Santana to take his queen and leave him nearly defenseless. But then the noise defenders are pulled off and they're boxing again.

Knowing she just has to make it to the next round of chess gives Santana enough energy to survive. She even manages to get in two excellent face hits that she hopes rattle his brain a bit.

When they sit down for another round of chess, Santana finds it surprisingly easy to settle into, what she hopes is, the final round. Darren doesn't have that many places to go and it shows in his moves. Santana chases him down and earns a checkmate.

The ref examines the board for a few moments before declaring Santana the winner.

…

The moment Santana is declared the winner Rachel is off the bleachers and running to the ring.

"You don't want to hug me, babe," Santana says, climbing out. "I mean, look."

Rachel ignores this and gently wraps her arms around her girlfriend. "You were amazing--are amazing."

Despite the pain, she knows is coming, Santana tightens her arms around Rachel and lets herself sink into the embrace. Nothing else matters.

"You also scared the shit out of me," Rachel adds. "But I knew you could do it."

"Thanks babe."

"Hey guys," Puck says. "If you want to shower, Lopez, better go now."

"Figures," Santana says, taking a step back. "I'll be quick." She accepts the backpack from Puck and heads into the locker room.

Puck hands Rachel a towel. "You have a little blood on your cheek."

"Oh." Rachel wipes her left cheek. "Didn't even notice."

"Our girl came through," Puck says.

Rachel nods. She hands Puck a piece of paper. "Should we? While we're waiting?"

Puck nods and the two disappear into the crowd.

…

"Just when you think you've seen everything," Mike says, still sitting in the bleachers, looking down at the ring.

"Seeing the violent and the cerebral in the same small space is rather unique," Marisa says.

"Oh. Yeah, that too."

"What were you referring to?" Quinn asks.

Mike points to Rachel embracing the bruised, battered, blood and sweat covered Santana. When Santana pulls away, they can all see the blood she left on Rachel. Oddly, Rachel doesn't seem to notice.

"Rachy loves Santana," Brittany says.

"We know, Britt," Quinn replies. "It's just unexpected."

"No it's not," Brittany says. "If you think that then, you don't know."

"What?"

"That Rachel loves Santana."

No one responds as they watch Rachel chat with Puck.

"You're awfully quiet," Mike says to Wendy.

"I, uh, was just thinking," Wendy replies.

"Oh?"

"I really need to talk to Missy tomorrow," Wendy says.

"About?"

"Make sure she knows that Santana's one to mess with. I mean, did we just watch the same thing? You're all acting so fucking causal about this. If she can win a damn chess boxing tournament, then she can do anything. Mis needs to know not the mess with her. I'd hate for Santana to bury her under the football field or something."

"I already knew that," Brittany says.

…

"So now what?" Puck asks as they stand between his truck and Mike's car.

"Considering the fact that it's almost one in the morning," Rachel says. "I suggest home."

"Yeah, the pain is starting to kick in," Santana adds.

"Price of being a badass, S," Quinn says.

"Thanks for letting us come, San," Brittany says. "You're so fucking hot when you're kicking ass."

Wendy stares at Brittany as Marisa elbows her.

"What? It's true."

"Doesn't mean you need to say it out loud," Marisa grumbles.

"Call you later, B," Santana says before slowly climbing into the truck.

Mike unlocks his car and Brittany, Marisa and Quinn crawl into the back as Wendy sits in front. He, then, has to speed out of the parking lot after Puck.

"Figures that he'd forget that you need to follow him back to Lima," Quinn says.

"Not to mention, everyone's cars are still at Rachel's," Marisa adds.

"Rachel probably already reminded him," Mike replies. "See?"

Everyone stares as Puck slows down to a more follow-able speed.

"Berry," Quinn huffs, shaking her head.

…

At Rachel's house, everyone gets into their cars and heads home. Puck helps a reluctant Santana up the stairs and into Rachel's room.

"I'm not an invalid," she grouses.

"You are injured," Rachel points out.

"I'll heal," Santana replies.

"See you guys Monday," Puck says.

"Thanks for your help, Noah," Rachel tells him.

“Totally worth it, bro,” he replies. He knows he’s probably going to get hit for saying it, but he can’t help it; it’s been too great of night. “B’s right. Your girl is so fucking hot when she’s kicking ass.”

Thankfully, Rachel just smirks. “I know.”

He half hugs her, relieved she’s not mad before thundering down the stairs and back out to his truck.

…

“Do you need anything?” Rachel asks as she shuts her bedroom door.

“Just you, babe,” Santana says quietly, her face half pressed into a pillow.

“I wish we could get you some pain pills,” Rachel replies as she changes into her pajamas.

“Me too. Guess Ibuprofen will just have to do.”

“And taking it easy for a while,” Rachel adds.

“As much as Coach will let me I suppose.”

Considering that Coach Sylvester is now ten thousand dollars richer thanks to Santana, Rachel hopes that maybe Santana will be given a break, for a few days anyway. But knowing that Santana never saw Coach Sylvester there, Rachel says, “I’ll talk to her on Monday. I bet she’ll go easy on you for the week.”

“Ha! That’ll be the day.”

“She likes me,” Rachel says, slipping into bed. “It can’t hurt to ask.”

“And then have her accuse me of hiding behind your insanely short skirts?”

“My skirts are an appropriate length,” Rachel retorts. “And so what if she does? That doesn’t mean she won’t agree.”

“I’m pretty sure it does, babe.”

“Fine,” Rachel sighs. “We can argue about it tomorrow.”

“Goody,” Santana grumbles as Rachel turns off the light.

…

Saturday morning, Rachel wakes up first. For once, Santana is lying fully atop Rachel. Usually they end up spooning with Santana as the big spoon because Rachel’s far too short to ever be considered the big anything. Despite being annoyed at another height joke, Rachel feels like there’s something sweet and Santana like in that statement. But that doesn’t stop her from arguing every time Santana says it.

However, because of her injuries, Santana found sleeping on her stomach to be the least painful. Apparently, most of her bruises don’t bother her when she’s lying on Rachel. Santana had quipped that Rachel is like a healing balm, chuckling to herself and then making herself wince at the action. Rachel had just shook her head, despite lying in bed and let Santana maneuver herself into a position of comfort.

But now in the early Saturday morning light, Rachel wonders if it’s possible to escape her bed without waking Santana. She really feels the need to work out, but Santana definitely needs her rest. Rachel’s hoping that if her girlfriend rests all day and tomorrow, she might not feel so horrible at school on Monday.

Rachel dresses quietly for quick jog outside. Yes, it’s January in Lima, but she doesn’t want to wake Santana with her elliptical and for whatever reason, she really feels the need to exercise this morning. So after lacing up her sneakers, she jots a quick note to Santana on a post it and sticks it next to the bottle of water and ibuprofen sitting on the night stand next to Santana. And then she quickly heads downstairs and out into the early morning cold.

…

Santana wakes up alone and sore. Turning slightly to see the time, tells her it's just after eight. She hears the shower running and lets out a sigh of relief. It's not that she's upset that she didn't get to wake up with Rachel, it's just she'd been hoping for some pampering because of her injuries. However, Santana's pretty sure that Rachel didn't expect her to be awake quite yet.

And as the pain begins to fully register, Santana begins to wish she was still asleep. She rolls over, groaning and swallows the several ibuprofen followed with many swigs of water. She lets herself collapse back onto the bed and tries to drift back to sleep.

…

When Santana wakes up again, it’s to the smell of coffee. Opening her eyes reveal that Rachel is stretched out next to her reading. There’s a half drunk mug of coffee on the nightstand next to Rachel. Santana watches her take a careful sip and set the mug back down before turning a page in The Metamorphosis.

“Morning,” Santana croaks, still wary of the pain.

“Hey tiger,” Rachel smiles. “Want some coffee?”

“Maybe in a bit.”

“Ibuprofen?”

“Definitely.”

Rachel hands Santana the pills and helps her sit up enough to drink some water. Santana then lies back down, her head now on Rachel’s lap.

“I figured you needed the rest,” Rachel answers Santana’s unasked question. “Sleep is supposed to be excellent medicine.”

“Yeah, I know. It was last time too.” Santana sighs. “But I don’t want to spend the whole weekend sleeping.”

“I assumed as much,” Rachel replies. “Which is why we’re going to stay in bed until we have to head over to your house for dinner tomorrow night. I picked up a couple movies and maybe we can order some take out later.”

“You know what my suggestion for staying in bed activities are, don’t you?”

Rachel smirks. “And normally they’d be mine too, San. But I don’t want to hurt you. Let’s give you at least twenty-four hours.”

“It’s fine,” Santana insists. “As long as I don’t do anything too strenuous.”

“Um… Are we talking about the same thing here?” Rachel questions. “Or are you just insinuating that I should do all the work?”

Santana smirks. “I’ve earned it.”

“Oh please,” Rachel scoffs. “Just because you ended up victorious in a situation few thought you’d succeed in, doesn’t mean you’ve earned it. You make it sound like you won a great battle.”

“I did.”

“You know what I mean.”

“So that’s a no to sex?” Santana pouts.

“Until tomorrow anyway.”

“This is so not how to reward the conquering hero,” Santana grumbles.

…

Despite Santana’s grumbling, they do have a great day together. Lately it feels to Rachel that they don’t really have that much time to just sit around and be; just be Rachel and Santana. She knows senior year is meant to be chaotic, which just adds to the busy schedules that both she and Santana have and though she’d probably only ever admit it to Santana, and then only if pushed, but she’s been feeling a bit overwhelmed lately. Even though it’s only been a couple weeks since winter break ended.

Or maybe, Rachel thinks, watching Santana argue with the TV, it’s something else. Recently, Rachel’s found herself gazing at Santana more and more. She blames it on her silly romantic notions, which some days is at war with her more pragmatic side. Though she wants to ignore them, she can’t, since her Broadway dreams are wrapped up in her romantic side. However, her pragmatic side is what has allowed her to survive in Lima this long.

And they’ve been in constant conflict for the last few months. With the end of their time in Lima looming, Rachel has debating if this relationship between her and Santana will last through college. Though they’ve applied to colleges near each other, that is certainly no guarantee; not to mention that both their college plans involve them both being extremely busy.

The pragmatic side of her is screaming that the relationship has to end before they leave Lima, while the romantic side argues that love conquers all and anything that’s thrown at them, they’ll be able to handle as long as they’re together. She’s still not sure which side to listen to.

…

“Are you going to tell your parents?”

Santana glances over at Rachel as she drives towards her house for Sunday night dinner.

“I don’t know,” Santana replies quietly, expecting a reprimand.

“What did you do last time?” Rachel asks instead.

“Blamed it on Cheerios and used a lot of cover up.”

“Oh.”

“They were still pretty wary of pissing me off still then, which made it easier,” Santana continues. “So lying probably isn’t an option this time.”

“What about just not saying anything at all?” Rachel suggests.

Santana looks over at her in surprise; she definitely didn’t expect that. “What? Why? How?”

“I just hate for them to worry,” Rachel says. “And so maybe if we don’t mention it, it can be more like a lack of sharing than a bold faced lie. And you’ve manage to cover up all your bruises. Maybe they’ll just assume the soreness is from something sexually related.”

Santana is shocked to feel herself blushing. “And you’re okay with that?”

Rachel shrugs. “As long as I don’t think about it too much, yes.” She shudders. “Or think about them thinking about it.”

Santana actually feels nauseous. “Was that really necessary?”

“No,” Rachel replies. “And I regret even thinking it.”

Santana pulls into her driveway and shuts off her car.

“I’ll follow your lead, tiger,” Rachel tells her. “However you want to do this is fine with me.”

“Thanks babe.”

…

Rachel wonders what it says about her that one of her favorite things about her relationship with Tomás is how he likes to tweak Santana about Rachel being his favorite. She thinks it’s the knowing smirk he wears whenever his daughter isn’t looking at him. Plus, it’s nice to have a sort of inside joke with someone. It makes her feel less alone; well, most things about the Lopez family make her feel less alone.

Once they’re seated at the table and eating, they chit chat about the past week and Rachel tries not to feel guilty when Clara asks Santana if Coach Sylvester is being extra tyrannical this week.

“Uh…”

“You’re moving a bit slowly, dear,” Clara says.

“I guess she was a bit harsher,” Santana replies.

“I know you enjoy it Santana, darling,” Clara continues. “But sometimes I worry that you push yourself too hard.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Tomás asks. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you fell this week.”

“Yes, exactly,” Clara agrees. “Either that or you and… Never mind.”

“What?”

“It’s not important dear.”

Since Clara seems intent on staring at her food, Rachel assumes she’s come to the conclusion of vigorous sex as the reason Santana’s sore. She briefly wonders what Clara thinks they’re doing that would leave Santana sore enough to show, but leave Rachel walking normally. A shudder puts an end to that disturbing thought.

When everyone else falls silent, Tomás has no choice, but to do so as well.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Rachel asks Tomás about work and conversation starts up again. Thankfully it lasts through the rest of dinner; but topics that could veer off into the uncomfortable are avoided.

“Why do I feel like I’m missing something here?” Tomás asks as Rachel jumps up to clear the table.

“Um…”

“Maybe it’d just be easier, if you girls just told us what you’re trying to hide.”

“We’re not—“

“Santana,” Clara warns.

Santana sighs. “Fine.” She stands and goes into the kitchen. They hear the water running and Santana returns, wiping her face with a paper towel. When she pulls it away, a black eye and a bruised jaw are apparent. She holds up her hand before her parents can ask. “Friday night I participated in a chess boxing tournament. Hence, my injuries. But on the upside, I won.”

No one says anything. After a moment, Clara stands and carefully hugs Santana.

“What were you thinking?” Clara asks once she’s pulled away. “You could have been seriously injured.”

“But I wasn’t,” Santana points out. “And I won two thousand dollars.”

Again no one speaks.

“I’m sorry, did you say chess boxing?” Tomás asks. “What is that?”

“It’s the most absurd thing on paper,” Rachel answers. “But it’s rather incredible to watch.”

“You play chess for two minutes and then you box for two minutes. You keep switching back and forth until someone wins on the chessboard or someone is knocked out.”

“And you won?” Tomás questions. “How many bouts did you have?”

“Three,” Santana answers. “There were eight participants, including me, and it was a three round bracket tournament.”

“Ten to one odds that she’d win,” Rachel adds. “Which I find unfair, considering she won the last time too.”

“Rach,” Santana hisses.

“Last time?” Clara asks.

“Oops.”

“You’ve done this before?”

Santana nods hesitantly at her mother.

Clara sighs. “I suppose I should be more surprised.”

“Whereas I couldn’t be prouder,” Tomás interjects. “Our little girl has it all; brains and brawn. And I’m willing to bet the opponents you were up against weren’t easy.”

“Definitely not,” Rachel answers. “It was rather worrisome to watch.”

“I can imagine.”

“Hey, I survived though,” Santana says, hating the pained look on Rachel’s face. “I survived and I kicked ass.”

“That’s my girl,” Tomás says, grinning. “Do I even want to know how you stumbled upon this whole thing? You didn’t go searching for it, did you?”

“Course not,” Santana replies. “Puck found it.”

“Of course,” Clara scoffs.

“Clara,” Rachel says. “I know Noah has some rather obvious negative qualities, but he does mean well. And he’s gotten better. I think.”

“Noah?” Tomás asks, looking amused.

“I refuse to acknowledge his ridiculous nickname, when he has such a nice first name,” Rachel replies.

Santana tries unsuccessfully to hold back laughter.

“I can’t believe he lets you call him that,” Clara says.

“Well my powers of persuasion are excellent,” Rachel replies.

“So I’m just supposed to be okay with this?” Clara asks Santana.

“Um, well, it’s not like it’s a regular thing,” Santana replies. “I mean, I doubt I’ll be doing it again anytime soon. And honestly, I’m not sure I want to. Yeah, it’s nice to have the extra money, but I don’t remember being this sore last time.”

“I think your opponents were more difficult this time,” Rachel says. “At least that’s what Noah said.”

“Gotta love that competitive nature,” Tomás adds. “It’s not just that you love to win, it’s that you hate to lose.”

Santana shrugs and then winces. “Pretty much.”

“Of course you would approve,” Clara chastises.

“Well, what’s done is done,” Tomás replies. “And I’m impressed. I can’t imagine it’s easy to switch mindsets so quickly and fluidly to actually be successful.”

“It’s not,” Santana agrees.

Clara sighs. “Just promise me you won’t be doing this again.”

“Um…” Santana shrugs and then winces again. “I can’t.”

“You can’t?”

“I don’t plan on it, but I don’t want to make a promise I might not keep.”

“Well I can appreciate that, at least,” Clara says.

…

“You think they’ll let the open door policy drop tonight?” Rachel asks. “Since you’re in no state to properly ravage me?”

“You can ask,” Santana replies. “But only if you ask exactly like that.”

“Then I will not be asking,” Rachel says as she settles into bed.

“Ah, come on, it’ll be fun,” Santana teases, sliding into bed next to Rachel.

“I think someone’s forgot the horrible awkwardness we experienced in the middle of dinner,” Rachel says as she and Santana try to find a comfortable position.

“The whole evening’s been sorta awkward,” Santana replies, finally settling on her stomach atop Rachel.

Rachel sighs contently as she wraps her arms around Santana. “Worth it.”

Snuggling into Rachel, Santana feels the same way. “Love you, babe.”

“You too, tiger.”

…

When Sue arrives in her office Monday morning, she’s surprised to find an envelope sitting on her computer. It reads, Coach Sylvester. She opens it, curious and cautious.

Coach,

Though I know it goes against your every instinct, could you please go easy on Santana for a couple days? She’s definitely still smarting from the match Friday night and I would really appreciate it if she could have an easy few days.

And no, this does not count as me calling in the favor you owe me. Considering that Santana’s victory earned you ten-thousand dollars, I feel like you owe this to her.

Thank you, Rachel Berry

Sue can’t help but smirk. Only Berry would have the cojones to ask such a thing; everyone knows that Sue doesn’t go easy on anyone for any reason. But Berry’s right, Sue is now ten-thousand dollars richer thanks to Lopez. And since she has such specific plans for the money, she supposes she could cut Lopez a little bit of slack for a few days.

Nonetheless, she burns Berry’s note; can’t have anyone finding any evidence of Sue’s niceness. Even just the mere fact that Berry would even dare to ask conveys weakness on Sue’s part. She doesn’t begrudge Berry for asking; she’d expect nothing less from Lopez’s girl. If anything, it just proves once again that Sue that she was right Berry being good for Lopez. But she's damn sure not going to let anyone else know that. She has a reputation to maintain after all.

fic: Follow Through

2012-10-06T18:34:30Z

Title: Follow Through
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Paige/Emily, Calab/Hanna, Pam Fields
Rating: PG-13
Summary: sequel to Seeking Advice. Calab doesn't seem to be following his own good advice.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~2,312
Spoilers: 3x12
A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.

Because any drop in her grades will mean Paige is unable to see Emily, she’s stretched out on her girlfriend’s bed working on her Trig homework. Emily, meanwhile, is cleaning her room.

“It’s so unfair that your homework is done already,” Paige grumbles as Emily looks around her now mostly clean room.

“Well maybe all this extra attention will make you love it. You can be a famous… Trigonometrist?” Emily suggests, half smiling.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not anything,” Paige replies. “Besides, I hate math. Why would I want to spend the rest of my life surrounded by it?”

“Stranger things have happened,” Emily shrugs.

“Yeah, I guess,” Paige replies, sullen. Seeing Emily laying down on the floor, she asks, “What are you doing?”

“Since you’re not done yet, I might as well clean under the bed, too, right?”

“Uh, sure. It’s your room.”

They settle into a moment of quiet as Emily slides under the bed and Paige attempts to deal with the periodic function in front of her.

A few minutes later, Emily’s cell begins ringing.

Sliding herself half off the bed, Paige lets her head off the bed so Emily can hear her as she says, “Your phone’s ringing.”

There’s a bit of a scuffling sound and then Emily asks, “Can you grab it?”

Paige nods and reaches for Emily’s phone on the night stand.

"Emily's phone."

“Oh hey Paige,” Hanna says. “Is Em busy?”

“Um, sorta,” Paige replies. “She’s under the bed cleaning.”

“Oh.”

“Do you want to talk to her?” Paige asks.

Hanna sighs.

“Or maybe I can help?” Paige offers.

Now that they know Paige isn’t A, all of Emily’s friends have been a lot friendlier and have been making a real effort to get to know her and vice versa, Hanna especially. And since Paige can’t help but feel a bit guilty about Calab getting shot, even if it was completely out of her control, Paige has found herself trying a little bit more with Hanna.

“Calab is driving me crazy,” Hanna exclaims. “He keeps saying he’s just fine and that he doesn’t need to rest.”

“Oh.”

“He’s acting like he didn’t almost die three weeks ago!” Hanna continues to rant. “He says he’s okay, that he’s ready to keep helping us deal with A.”

“Well that’s—“

“I mean doesn’t he understand that I need him safe? Seeing him like that… And I couldn’t… I mean because A is after us, it means that he’s in more danger—that you’re both in more danger… Oh. Sorry Paige.”

“It’s okay, Hanna.”

“I just… it’s stupid.”

“Hanna…”

“The only thing good about Calab getting shot is that I didn’t have to worry about his safety for a while and now he’s trying to shorten that. And I’m just not ready yet.”

Paige looks down at Emily’s legs sticking out from under her bed and feels her heart clench.

“It’s never going to be long enough,” she tells Hanna. “Worrying about someone you love… and not being able to protect them, well, you’re always going to want more time where you don’t have to be on guard.”

“Paige…”

“Sorry,” Paige replies. “I didn’t mean to make this about me.”

Hanna sighs.

“It’s just that I understand where he’s coming from,” Paige continues.

“I’m mad because I care,” Hanna says quietly.

“And I’m sure he knows that,” Paige tells her. “Just like you know that he’s being stubborn because he’s worried about you.”

“Yeah.”

“If you guys can just keep that in mind,” Paige says. “Then maybe you guys won’t get so annoyed with each other?”

“Is that what you guys do?”

“Huh?”

“You and Emily?” Hanna questions. “Is that how the two of you deal?”

“Uh… I guess.”

Truth be told she and Emily haven’t really dealt with it all. With Paige’s parents wanting to limit their time together, a lot of their struggle has been to just be able to see each other, spend time together. On top of all that is Emily trying to deal with her part in Nate’s death, because even in her mind, Paige refuses to think of it as Emily killing Nate, even if she did; while Paige is dealing with her new fear of the dark and small spaces, as well as her usual feeling of not being enough for Emily. How to handle the added danger of A has been avoided somewhat, beyond vague, yet comforting statements.

“Because Em hasn’t really mentioned anything,” Hanna continues. “And so I just assumed that meant you guys were confused too, but now… It sounds like you guys have it all figured out.”

“Just lucky, I guess,” Paige shrugs, even if Hanna can’t see her.

“Well good,” Hanna replies. “Someone around here needs to have some good luck.”

“Maybe if you just told him why you want him to rest up a bit more?” Paige suggests. “I mean, if I was him, I would be so worried about you and shove aside that I just got shot.”

“Mmmm,” Hanna says.

Paige wonders if she even her heard her.

“Maybe you could talk to him,” Hanna exclaims.

“What?”

“Yeah,” Hanna continues. “You guys should talk.”

“We should?”

“Sure. It’d be good. For both of you.”

“Uh…” Paige isn’t sure how to respond. Technically, she and Calab have already talked; though no one else seems to know. She’d been too embarrassed to tell Emily and apparently Calab hadn’t mentioned it to Hanna. She wonders what that means.

“No it’s perfect,” Hanna continues, the excitement building in her voice. “You guys should come over for dinner tonight. It’ll just be the four of us. And then you and Calab can talk after.”

“Well…”

“I know your folks are being, well, strict, but maybe if my mom calls them?”

Surprisingly Paige already has permission to eat dinner at the Fields’. It’s why she’s doing her homework now, instead of much more pleasurable activities with Emily. Her parents will never allow it again if her grades slip. Paige also knows a call from Ashley Marin will not convince her father.

“Actually, I already have permission to eat dinner with Emily, so maybe if her mom calls my dad…”

“Really?” Hanna squeals.

Paige winces slightly as she pulls the phone away from her ear. “Let me talk to Em first. Okay?”

“Sure, Paige,” Hanna replies. “I’ll wait.”

Sighing, Paige slides herself half off the bed and lets her head fall until she can see under the bed, sort of. “Em?”

“Yeah?”

“Hanna wants to know if we want to have dinner at her house with her and Calab.”

“Sure,” Emily replies. “But what about your parents? Won’t they think we lied to them?”

Paige shrugs which causes her to almost lose her balance and fall off the bed; luckily her feet hanging off the other side of the bed keep her from falling completely. She looks sheepish as she says, “Do you think if your mom called and explained?”

Not bothering to hide her chuckling at Paige’s clumsiness, Emily says, “Maybe. She would if I asked. But do you think they’ll agree?”

“I have no idea anymore,” Paige replies.

“Well, if you think you can work it out with your parents, then I say, yes.”

“Okay.” Paige pulls herself up as she picks Emily’s cell back up. “Um, I need to check with my parents, but if they say yes, then we’ll be there.”

“Good. See you guys in a bit then.”

Ending the call, Paige puts Emily’s cell back on the night stand. Since her homework’s just about done, Paige returns to it as Emily continues to clean.

…

Paige is shocked when Mrs. Fields gets off the phone and tells them that her parents said yes. She’s pretty sure that Mrs. Fields talked to her mom and not her dad. They make an effort to be civil to each other during the few brief encounters Paige or Emily have witnessed and both girls figure it’s the best they can hope for, considering how their parents’ first interaction occurred.

Still, it’s a welcomed surprise and Paige, acting without thought, hugs Mrs. Fields. She quickly pulls away, apologizing to her feet.

“Paige,” Mrs. Fields says. “It’s okay. I’m glad that… I’m glad that you’re comfortable enough to do that.”

“Yeah?”

She nods. “You make Emily happy. And that’s all that matters to me. Okay?”

Paige looks up, a hopeful smile on her face. “Well, thanks, Mrs. Fields.”

“You’re welcome Paige. I hope you girls have a good time.”

…

Dinner is fun and light hearted. They avoid touchy topics and mostly spend the time trying to make each other laugh. It’s one of the nicest and most relaxed meals Paige has had in a long time.

And even though the most interaction she's had with Calab is when she visited him in the hospital, Paige falls into an easy camaraderie with him. She's glad since it's likely that they'll be seeing a lot of each other in the future and because Paige knows Emily is worried about how well her girlfriend will get along with her best friends' boyfriends.

Hanna not so subtly has Emily help her clean up while Paige helps Calab out of the kitchen. He settles onto the couch with a slight grunt, but still offers Paige a weak grin as she settles next to him.

"So," he says.

"So," she replies. "How you holding up?"

"Better. I'm so ready to be done with all this."

For a moment, Paige isn't sure if he's talking about being shot or the bigger issue of A; maybe both.

"Yeah."

They sit in awkward silence for a moment, listening to the sounds of their girlfriends cleaning up.

"So what did Hanna want you to talk to me about?"

"Uh…"

"Because subtly isn't really in her vocabulary," Calab continues.

Paige sighs. She's thankful to Calab for helping her before, so she wants to do this, but she's not sure how to without it being awkward, well more awkward. "She's, uh, concerned."

Calab raises an eyebrow, but doesn't comment.

Paige sighs and decides to try a different route. "You never mentioned to Hanna that I visited you in the hospital?"

"Did you tell Emily?"

Paige shakes her head. "I was kinda embarrassed. Plus, I knew she'd yell at me for biking around Rosewood, injured, at two in the morning."

Calab chuckles. "Yeah she would."

"You gave me some good advice," Paige says, looking at her hands, fidgeting in her lap. "Advice I'm trying to follow."

"Glad to hear it."

"Thing is," Paige continues. "You don't seem to be following it."

"What?"

"What happened to just being there for them? That they've survived this long and have proven they can take care of themselves?"

"Um…" Calab actually looks a bit embarrassed. "I forgot?"

It's Paige's turn to raise an eyebrow at him.

"Okay. Fine. It's easier said than done," Calab replies. "I mean, I know what I said, but seriously, I just want to make this all go away. And I can't do that until I'm better. So I need to get better. Now."

"I understand."

"And I know I'm driving Hanna crazy," he says. "But I can't help it."

"You know she's just getting more worried that you're messing up your recovery," Paige replies.

Calab nods. "She's brought it up once or twenty times." He offers a half smile. "Oh god," he groans. "Is that what this is?"

"Huh?"

"She asked you to talk to me."

"Um, well, I wouldn't says she asked, per say," Paige mutters.

"Can you imagine if she knew we've already been talking?"

Paige shakes her head.

Calab sighs. "All right. Let's hear it."

"Uh, what?"

"I'm sure there's something you're supposed to convince me of, so let's hear it."

"It's nothing you don't already know," Paige tells him. "She's just worried about the fact that you seem to be pushing yourself so hard. She, uh, she told me that the only good thing about your being shot is that once you were pronounced stable, she didn't have to worry about you getting hurt on her behalf for a while."

"Oh."

"I guess she just wanted to enjoy a little more time of not having to worry so much."

"Oh."

Not knowing what else to say; Paige lapses into silence. She tries to watch Calab out of the corner of her eye, but doesn't want to be too creepy, so she just stares at her hands and tries not to feel too uncomfortable.

"I just want her to be safe," Calab says finally.

"And she wants the same for you," Paige replies. "Maybe you could look at it like you're protecting each other and remember that all the worry and concern and fear you have for her, she has for you."

"Yeah…"

"If you just keep that in mind, things will be a bit easier."

"Is it?" Calab asks. "A little bit easier that way?"

Paige shrugs. "Getting there, I guess."

"It's not exactly the same for you guys," Calab says.

"Isn't that always true?"

"I'll try," Calab promises. "It's the best I can do."

"That's all Hanna wants," Paige assures him.

…

"So how'd your talk with Calab go?" Emily asks as she drives Paige home.

"Uh, good I guess."

"Thanks for talking to him," Emily says. "I know Hanna kinda pushed you into it."

"I don't mind," Paige tells her, wondering if she should mention that she had visited Calab in the hospital a week ago; maybe later.

"Well she appreciates it. And so do I."

"It's no big deal," Paige shrugs. "Calab and I have a lot in common."

Emily glances over at Paige in surprise, before turning her attention back to the road. "I suppose you do." She reaches out and laces their hands together, squeezing slightly. "I love you."

"I love you too, Em."

fic: Letting the Cat Out of the Bag

2012-09-09T02:43:19Z

Title: Letting the Cat Out of the Bag
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, Quinn/Alyson, Brittany/Marisa, Mike/Wendy, Puck, Josh Tyler, Artie, Tina, Kat Tyler, Felix Lopez, Missy, Jack/Emma
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It's winter break.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count:~9,750
Spoilers: Nope.
A/N: Follows The Icing on the Cake. This is the last of the daily updates. I'll try to keep the updates coming on a regular basis, so we can finish this monster before Christmas. Keep your fingers crossed.
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.

series masterlist

When Rachel wakes up to an obviously empty house Monday morning, she tries not to be disappointed. She's pretty sure that the only reason her fathers have spent every Christmas with her is because nothing's open on the 25th. They have no choice.

She hopes that wasn't true when she was younger, but it is definitely true now. And this year was even worse since she and her daddy are at odds. Her dad tried his best to smooth things out between them, but neither of them are willing to compromise; they definitely have stubbornness in common.

Rachel just wishes she could figure out why her daddy can't or won't give Santana a chance.

She lets herself lay in bed, feeling sorry for herself for exactly ten minutes before getting up and starting her usual morning routine. Just because it's winter break, doesn't mean she's going to abandon her entire routine. Besides, Alyson will probably show up today and she wants to be ready for her arrival.

…

Because Kat wants to spend more time with her sister, Rachel is at the Tyler house at one p.m. to pick her up. She'd gotten a very hyper call from Kat a few hours ago when the fourteen year old found out her big sister was leaving so soon.

"It's not that I don't understand it," Kat told Rachel. "I do. Our parents are just so… unbelievable, especially towards Alyson. I think it's cause she's been at school and they haven't been able to lord over her like they can me and Josh."

"Is Alyson okay with it?" Rachel interrupted.

"She says she is."

"All right, I'll be over after lunch."

"Thanks Rachel."

Ringing the doorbell, Rachel tries to not feel like such a conspirator. Thankfully, Alyson answers the door.

"Hey Rachel."

"Afternoon Alyson," Rachel says. "Leaving already?" Rachel points to the duffel bag sitting near by.

Alyson nods. "Yeah, you can get a lot done when you're the only one on campus, you know?"

"I can imagine. No distractions."

"Exactly," Alyson agrees. "I suppose you're here for Kat?"

Rachel nods. "In fact, I was thinking that maybe she could sleepover. What do you think about that?"

Alyson looks surprised. "Really?"

Rachel nods again. "Bad idea?"

Alyson thinks about it for a moment. "No. Good idea. Definitely. Do you want to come in and ask my mom?"

"Thanks." Rachel steps inside and lowers her voice. "You didn't have to say yes you know. I haven't mentioned it to Kat because I wanted to make sure--"

"It's fine, Rachel," Alyson interrupts. "You're a good friend."

In the kitchen they find Mrs. Tyler making a shopping list.

"Hey mom, Rachel's here."

"Afternoon Mrs. Tyler."

"Oh hello Rachel. So nice to see you. Kat tells me the two of you are hanging out this afternoon?"

Rachel nods. "I was actually thinking that maybe she could spend the night and I could bring her back in the morning. But I didn't want to bring it up before asking you. I'd rather not get her hopes up."

"That is so nice of you Rachel," Mrs. Tyler replies. "But I don't see why she can't sleep over. It'll be a nice distraction since this one here is leaving soon."

"Excellent," Rachel says. "Do you mind if I go up and tell her?"

"Not at all dear. Alyson, honey, why don't you show Rachel where Kat's room is."

"Sure mom."

"Did she forget how many times I've been over here?" Rachel whispers as they ascend the stairs.

"Knowing her? Yes."

…

Santana's car is in the driveway when Kat and Rachel pull up. However, when they walk into the kitchen, both are surprised to see not only Santana sitting at the table, drinking a mug of coffee, but Quinn as well.

"You seem to be popular today," Kat says.

"Quinn's not here to see me," Rachel tells her. "And I'm only fifty percent of the reason you're here today."

"I'd say sixty percent, personally," Kat replies.

This earns her an eye roll from Rachel. "It's too late to brown nose."

"Hey Kat."

"Kat," a smirking Santana says.

"Hi Quinn. Santana."

"Where's Aly?" Quinn asks.

"She won't be over for another hour or so," Rachel replies. "We figured it'd arouse less suspicion that way."

"Then shouldn't Kat have waited until after?" Santana asks.

Kat shakes her head. "I told my mom it'd be easier if I was out of the house and distracted."

"You're going to make an excellent trouble maker one day," Santana says.

"Thanks I guess."

…

When Alyson shows up an hour later, Santana and Quinn are teasing Rachel about being a softie because she invited Kat to spend the night as well.

"Only you two would see this gesture as a bad thing," Rachel snarks.

Deciding to stay out of it, Alyson joins Quinn on the couch, greeting her with a brief kiss.

"It's just that you're such a pushover sometimes, Rach," Quinn says. "I bet all Kat had to do was pout and you caved."

"Or she's trying to subconsciously right her own wronged childhood filled with abandonment and loneliness," Kat throws out.

Santana and Quinn stare at Kat. Quinn then turns to Alyson with a questioning look, only to find her girlfriend grinning.

"I always say that Kat should major in psychology," Alyson smirks. "She's the smart one."

Santana is staring at Rachel in surprise.

"What?" Rachel says. "Kat and I are friends. We talk."

"Just let it go, Q," Santana says, cutting off Quinn.

"I wasn't going to say anything," Quinn pouts.

"Whatever you say blondie."

Quinn looks around the room. "Britt's never around when you need her."

"To balance out the hair color in the room?" Alyson asks, smirking.

"Exactly."

"You're weirder than I thought, Q."

…

Brittany shows up almost an hour later with Marisa in tow causing Santana and Alyson to spend the next fifteen minutes mocking and teasing Quinn about being blonde.

"Are they just lashing out because they're insecure that they're not blonde?" Brittany stage whispers to Kat.

"You missed earlier when Quinn realized there was a hair color imbalance," Kat tells her.

"So the fact that I was considering dying my hair is a bad thing?"

"Depends on what color you pick, I guess."

"I was thinking purple steaks, since everyone loves purple," Brittany answers.

"I wish I had popcorn," Rachel says, watching Quinn snap at Santana and Alyson.

"You don't eat popcorn," Marisa tells her.

"You are correct," Rachel replies. "However, I feel like this situation needs something."

"MST3K like commentary," Marisa says.

"Oooh, that does sound like fun," Brittany says.

…

Brittany's very disappointed when the mocking stops after another few minutes.

"I wanted to do commentary," she pouts.

"Santana and Quinn seem to argue a lot," Marisa tells her. "I'm sure you'll get another chance."

They end up in front of the TV, not really paying attention. Instead, they talk and catch up. But then Santana starts mocking Quinn again, only this time Alyson takes Quinn's side and Rachel is forced to separate them. Of course, when Rachel and Santana return from the kitchen, Brittany then begins teasing Santana, which Santana grudgingly puts up with because it's Brittany, which causes Quinn to mock Santana about being doubly whipped, which causes Santana to get into Quinn's face again.

Kat is literally rolling on the floor laughing through the whole thing. She knew Rachel and her friends were odd, but she never imagined they'd be this entertaining.

"It's like a reality show happening in front of me," she whispers to Marisa.

"They are pretty ridiculous, aren't they," Marisa smiles.

…

Things settle down once Rachel makes a decree of what is and isn't appropriate to discuss. They manage to survive several more hours in peace that way.

Quinn grabs a ride home with Brittany and Marisa. Kat is going to spend the night in the guest room with Alyson and Quinn isn't comfortable sleeping there as well. Plus, her mom is most likely expecting her.

So Rachel takes Kat upstairs and makes sure she's settled as Alyson walks Quinn to the car.

Rachel has just given Kat an extra blanket when her cell rings.

"Hey lil sis, it's Felix."

"Hello Felix, how are things?"

"Good. Good. I hope that sister of mine isn't giving you too hard of time."

"No more than usual. What's up?"

"You want to have breakfast tomorrow?"

"Yeah, that'll be fun. Where?"

"I figured I'd pick something up," he says. "There's this vegan friendly bakery I just found and I thought I'd bring some bagels by. We can try them out together."

"All right," Rachel replies. "I'll have the coffee ready. I'll be up at my usual time, so just stop by whenever."

"You still get up at six a.m. during winter break?"

"Keeping my routine is important."

"Fair enough," he says. "Who am I to question perfection?"

"Thank you for finally realizing that," Rachel tells him, chuckling. "See you tomorrow."

"Bye Rachel."

…

"I suppose you'll be up before the sun again tomorrow?" Santana asks, standing at the front door with Rachel.

Since her parents have been so easy going about her spending the night at Rachel's on a regular basis, Santana plans to sleep at home most of the week. She hates it, but Rachel seems to think it's a good idea. Santana would be more upset if she disagreed with her girlfriend, but they both agree that the guarantee of every Saturday night is too good to pass up. They still have half their senior year left to get through; they don't want to lose that.

"Deviating from my routine, especially in our final year of high school, seems ill advised. Why mess with perfection?"

Santana kisses Rachel softly before saying, "May your self esteem never waver about your awesomeness, babe."

"You won't let it," Rachel replies. "Oh. I'm having breakfast with your brother tomorrow."

Santana shakes her head, but doesn't say anything.

"Thanks," Rachel says.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Love you."

"Love you too."

…

Rachel is making coffee when Felix arrives.

"I bought bagels," he tells her. "And Facon." He shrugs. "I was craving bacon."

Rachel just hands him a frying pan before accepting the bag of bagels.

Eventually they sit down to bagels, facon and coffee. They eat slowly, catching each other up on the past few months. Rachel marvels at how well she and Felix get along; he feels like the older brother she always dreamed of having. Felix calling her lil sis all the time, helps too. Rachel wonders what it is about herself that made both Lopez kids want to give her a nickname.

…

Once Felix leaves for work, Kat and Alyson come down the stairs looking for breakfast. They wave off Rachel's offer to make them breakfast and just have cereal. Rachel lets them be and have alone time.

An hour later Rachel watches Alyson and Kat say good bye before Rachel drives Kat home. Rachel watches Kat run into the house and pulls out of the driveway, waving to Mrs. Tyler.

When she arrives at home, Santana is in the kitchen pouring herself some coffee.

"Dropped lil sis off?"

Rachel nods. "You bring Quinn with again?"

"Of course. They're upstairs."

"Oh. Okay. Couch?"

…

A couple hours later, Rachel is lounging with Santana on the couch when Noah bursts into the house.

"Did I forget to lock that behind me?" Santana asks, looking annoyed.

"Seems that way, doesn't it?" Rachel replies.

"Whatever," Noah says. "You guys are going to love this idea."

"Whenever you say shit like that, it's cause to worry," Santana says.

"What's your idea, Noah?" Rachel asks.

"I figured out what the project for the week should be," he exclaims.

"Goody," Santana mutters.

"What?" Rachel asks.

"Movie marathon," he replies. "And not just any marathon. We're going to get a projector and set it up in your basement. It'll be awesome."

"We don't have a screen," Rachel points out.

"We can use a sheet," he tells her.

"Where are you going to get all the equipment?" Santana asks.

Noah shrugs. "Gonna go talk to Artie. He was the expert the last time we did this."

"We don’t have access to the school equipment at the moment, Noah," Rachel says.

"We'll figure it out," he assures them. "Where's your enthusiasm?"

"It's trying to figure out what's going on in that brain of yours," Santana retorts.

"You should," Noah replies. "It's awesome."

"Pass."

"So what's your plan, Noah?" Rachel asks.

"Talk to Artie first," he replies. "And then hopefully we can start bringing stuff here to set up."

"Fine," Rachel huffs.

"Ah, don't be like that, bro," he tells her. "It'll be fun. I mean, you already got Q and Al here anyway. It'll be awesome."

"I already said yes," Rachel replies.

"Awesome. I'll be back." And then he's gone before either of them can reply.

"He's way more motivated than I've ever seen him," Santana says.

"Maybe it's a sign of things to come."

"Your belief in him is admirable, babe."

…

Puck is back sooner than either of them expected.

"Hey guys," he says walking in the front door and heading immediately downstairs.

A few minutes later he reappears. "Bye guys."

…

The next time Puck shows up, Rachel and Santana are in the kitchen being, as he calls it, ridiculously domestic.

"How is making lunch domestic?" Rachel asks.

Puck laughs. "Have you two ever watched yourselves together?"

"I don't believe that's possible to do," Rachel replies.

"There's a reason I call you two an old married couple," Quinn says, appearing besides Puck.

"See, Q agrees," Puck says.

"Whatever Puck," Santana says. "Your little project working out?"

"Getting there," Puck nods.

"Little project?" Alyson asks.

"Gotta go," Puck replies. "Have my bro explain it to you Al." And then he's out the door.

"I told you not to call me that!" Alyson calls after him.

"What ridiculousness has he got up his sleeve today?" Quinn asks.

"Apparently we're having a movie night tonight," Rachel replies. "With a big screen. Downstairs."

"Seriously?"

Rachel just shrugs.

…

Puck shows up a couple hours later with Artie, a lot of cables, a white sheet and pizza.

"So movie night is a go?" Santana questions as she takes the pizza boxes from them.

"Oh yeah," Puck replies. "Artie came through like gangbusters."

"I just know who you need to ask for things," Artie adds.

"How many people did you invite?" Rachel asks, joining them and taking in the number of pizza boxes.

"Just the usual," Puck tells them. "Britt, Mike, their girls, Tina, and I told Al to call her brother if she wanted."

"She hates it when you call her that," Rachel says.

"I know," Puck grins.

"Do you want Quinn to kick you in the nuts?" Santana asks.

"She wouldn't. Would she?"

"Alyson might," Rachel says.

"Well I gotta get my fun somewhere."

"What do you call all this?" Artie asks.

"A project."

"The more time I spend with you," Artie says. "The less I understand you."

…

"So what movie are we watching?" Rachel asks Puck. "You wouldn't have come up with this idea if you didn't have a movie in mind."

"Well I did say marathon, didn't I?"

"If you're going to try and make me watch all the Freddy movies again, you can just go home now."

"Luckily, I had another franchise in mind," Puck replies. "But since it's not just me, I brought a few choices. I figure we can vote when everyone gets here."

"What are the choices?"

"Well, I wanted horror," Puck says. "But I picked the Scream movies because at least it's smart horror. Artie's in charge of the other choice, since he did most of the work."

Rachel looks around the room and sees Artie double checking cables.

"Do you know what he picked?"

"Back to the Future."

Rachel nods. "The third one isn't that great."

"Neither is the third Scream movie. But what are you going to do?"

…

They end up watching Scream, though the voting is close, seven to six. However, they only make it through the first two before everyone has to go home.

"Tomorrow night is part two," Puck announces.

"Hey moron," Quinn calls out. "Did you ask Berry if that was okay?"

"No," he replies. "But I'm sure it is. Right bro?"

"It's fine, Noah."

"See."

Rachel stands. "Same time tomorrow guys?"

Everyone begins grabbing their things to go home. Rachel starts turning everything off.

"Hey Rachel."

"Oh, hi Wendy."

"Thanks for inviting me."

"Technically, Noah invited you," Rachel says. "But I'm glad you could come."

"I think I owe you an apology," Wendy continues. "I do know the meaning of the word no. I'm not sure that Missy does, though."

"As long as you're not using Mike, it's fine," Rachel says.

"I'm not. I swear."

"Then I consider it a fresh start between us."

"Cool."

"Will I be seeing you tomorrow?" Rachel asks.

"No. I already made plans with Missy and a couple other Cheerios. I'll never hear the end of it if I bail."

"I understand," Rachel says.

"I better go, but thanks," Wendy says.

"You're welcome."

…

"You staying tonight?" Rachel asks Santana.

She shakes her head. "Tomorrow night, though."

"You mean movie night part two?"

"I was just impressed that he didn't make you do all the work," Santana says.

"I bet he made Artie do all the work, instead," Rachel replies.

"Better him than you."

"Though Noah has become a lot more responsible lately," Rachel says.

"I'm just glad he stopped saying senior year baby and then doing that annoying fist pump."

"Agreed."

…

Everyone is back Wednesday night, settled in the same places.

"Hey Rach," Artie says. "Before we started the movie, I had a question."

"Okay."

"Well, it's not just for you," Artie continues. "It's for everyone, but mainly you."

"Okay," Rachel replies, sounding worried.

"Just ask already," Santana growls.

"Well since you're the prankster, do you think we could all pull a prank together? I mean the castle thing was awesome, but I think we could do something even crazier."

His statement is met with silence. Artie swears he hears crickets chirping.

"Brittany that isn't helping," Rachel scolds the blonde.

"Sorry Rach," Brittany says, putting her phone away. "But I thought the crickets would add to the atmosphere."

"You have crickets with you?" Tina asks, because it's not completely improbable.

"No, phone app."

"Oh."

"Wait a minute, Berry is the prankster?" Quinn exclaims.

Santana glowers at Artie who looks embarrassed.

"I thought everyone here knew," he says. "I mean, if Marisa knows, how does Quinn not?"

"Because she figured it out," Rachel says.

"What? How?"

"I got warnings," Marisa says.

Everyone nods since that's the main reason that Rachel's been under suspicion for months.

"And yet Quinn didn't figure it out," Puck mocks.

"Shut up, Puck," Quinn snaps. "I just figured Berry was making Santana warn us." She looks around the room. "Everyone here knows?"

"I didn't," Alyson says.

"Don't try to be funny."

Alyson just shrugs.

"What's the prankster?" Lindsey asks.

"Apparently Berry here has been pulling pranks at school for months," Quinn explains.

"It started off simple, like locking all of us out of the school," Brittany continues. "But then it became more complicate like catapults and fireworks."

"Seriously?" Josh exclaims. He grins at Rachel. "You're way more awesome than Kat thinks."

Rachel smirks. "Thanks."

"How long have you been doing this?" Lindsey asks.

"Um, over a year I guess," Rachel answers.

"How is it that you haven't been caught?"

"People are dumb," Brittany says.

"The administration hasn't responded properly," Rachel answers. "If they had better security--"

"Or any security," Santana interjects.

"Then maybe they'd be able to stop me."

"No way," Puck says. "My bro here is an ace planner. No one's gonna out smart her."

"Thank you, Noah," Rachel says. "But I wouldn't go that far."

"You're pretty awesome at it, though, Rach," Marisa says.

"Yeah," Puck says. "I mean, you've done like dozens."

"Um…"

"Oh don't even pretend you don't know the exact number, babe," Santana says.

Rachel elbows Santana and says, "Fifty-one."

This declaration is met with more silence.

"Holy fucking Christ, bro," Puck exclaims. "Has it really been that many?"

"According to my calculations," Rachel answers.

"And you still haven't been caught?" Lindsey asks.

Rachel just shrugs.

"We've been going to the wrong schools," Lindsey tells Josh, who just chuckles.

"I'm sorry," Quinn says. "But can we get back to the topic of Berry being the prankster and not Santana."

"Why do you keep saying my name like that, Quinn?" Rachel asks.

"Because I feel like a damn idiot, that's why."

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything," Rachel says. "I assumed you already knew and just enjoyed giving Santana a hard time."

"I don't see how you could think it was anyone, but Rachel after she built the Halifax Gibbet," Mike says.

"Yeah that was definitely a big clue," Artie asks.

"Guys," Brittany whispers loudly. "I don't think that's helping."

"I just need a minute," Quinn says. "And maybe a drink."

Puck hands her a beer.

"Thanks, I guess."

"Uh, so back to my question, Rachel," Artie says, nervously.

"That depends on everyone else, doesn't it?"

"So you'd be up to it?"

"Do you have an idea you want to try?" Rachel asks.

"Um, well, no, not exactly," Artie replies. "I have some real basic ideas, but they're not fleshed out quite."

Rachel sighs and looks at Santana, silently asking her opinion.

"It's your call, boss," Santana says. "I mean, this craziness is definitely your baby, not mine."

Rachel sighs again, louder. "All right. Show of hands. Who wants to pull a group prank?"

Puck and Artie's hands shoot up. Brittany is next and she elbows Marisa who reluctantly does as well. Mike and Tina are tentative when they raise their hands and Quinn seems to still be processing.

"All right then," Rachel says. "A group prank it is."

"Excellent," Artie says. "When?"

"Not for a bit," Rachel replies. "I have an idea that needs a lot of people, but I need to figure out the details."

"More than the castle?" Santana asks.

"And the pond?" Brittany asks.

"Or the fireworks?" Puck throws out.

"What about turning the steps into slides?" Tina asks.

"Or the overly waxed floor?" Mike adds.

Josh lets out an impressed whistle.

"Yes, more than those," Rachel replies, exasperated.

"Then we are all so in," Puck says.

"Who elected you the voice of the group?" Quinn asks.

"Does this mean you're in too, Q?"

"Yeah, it does."

Puck actually jumps up and begins dancing around.

"Who let him get drunk?" Santana snarks.

"This is pure joy, Lopez," Puck replies, after sticking out his tongue. "You know Rach is gonna come through with something awesome."

"Yeah, I do," Santana says. "But that doesn't mean you need to dance about it."

"Can we just watch the movie?" Rachel asks. "When I get it figured out, we'll talk. Okay?"

Everyone nods as Artie hits play on the DVD player.

…

"Listen, Rach," Artie says as they're shutting everything down after the movie. "I'm sorry about telling Quinn. I really thought she already knew."

"It's fine, Artie. I wasn't completely sure myself. It's probably best to have it out there, right?"

"Except now the arguments about who the prankster are at the glee table are going to be ridiculous," Santana comments from the corner where she's still lounging.

"Yes, that was my first concern," Rachel retorts.

"Just things to consider, babe."

"You're sure?" Artie asks.

"Really, Artie. It's fine."

"Cool. Then you and I should pull something. Just the two of us."

"Um, well--"

"No it's cool," Artie continues. "I'll figure it all out and then I'll check in with you to make sure the details work. I mean, you are the expert."

"All right, I guess."

"We'll talk more after I figure it out. Right?"

Rachel nods.

"Awesome." He turns to Mike and Puck. "You guys ready?"

They both nod and pick Artie and his chair up, carrying him upstairs.

"You're too nice sometimes, babe."

"Hey, if he does all the work, I don't see the problem."

"I was talking more about the group prank," Santana clarifies as Rachel joins her on the couch.

"It'll be fun."

"That's not the first word, I'd use, but okay."

"I wasn't lying before, San," Rachel says. "There is something I want to do, but I've been hesitant about because it's a decent amount of work."

"Good bonding experience, I guess."

"Who knows if it'll even happen," Rachel says. "After all, I might not be able to figure it out."

"Ha! As if," Santana replies. "You probably have it all figured out, except for logistics. And now adding more people to the mix will make it easier is all."

"Am I that transparent?"

"I'd like to think I know you pretty well," Santana replies.

"You really think it's a bad idea?"

"I guess it depends what it is."

Rachel nods, standing. "Bed?"

"As long as we aren't sleeping," Santana replies, standing as well.

"I thought you knew me well, San," Rachel smirks.

"Race you upstairs, then."

…

It's a lazy Thursday as Rachel, Santana, Quinn, and Alyson lounge in front of the TV. When Rachel's cell phone starts ringing, Santana groans. She snatches it off the coffee table and hands it to her girlfriend.

"If it's Puck and he wants to do something epic, tell him to shove it," she says.

Chuckling, Rachel answers her phone.

"Rach, hey I figured out what we're doing tomorrow," Puck says.

"Good."

"Except, do you know any drummers?"

"Besides Finn?" Rachel questions.

"Yeah."

"Not off the top of my head. Why?"

"Well, I need a drummer. And I figured you didn't want to spend your Friday night with Finn."

"Well that's true," Rachel agrees. "But he's the only drummer I know."

"Josh drums," Alyson says.

"He does?" Rachel asks.

Alyson nods. "Mostly for band, but he can jam with the best of them."

"Who's Josh?" Puck asks.

"Alyson's brother," Rachel answers. "You've met him. Tuesday, in fact."

"If you say so," Puck says. "Call him up. See what his plans are."

"What are our plans?" Rachel asks. "What am I supposed to tell him?"

"That we're entering an open mic night for bands because I thought it'd be fun."

"You're not serious," Rachel says.

"Course I am, bro," Puck replies. "I play guitar. You sing and play keyboard if you're so inclined and then he can drum. It'll be fun. And I already have a name for our band."

"Do I even want to know?"

"The Unholy Trinity," Puck crows.

"Noah," Rachel sighs.

"Ah, c'mon, Rach," Puck says. "It's a great name. I know it has bad connotations for you, but we can reclaim it as something positive and take away its power."

Rachel chuckles. "So you do listen to me when I talk."

"Seems like it."

"All right, I'll see what I can do."

Setting down her cell phone, Rachel turns to Alyson. "I hate to ask this, but do you know if Josh is doing anything tomorrow night?"

Alyson raises an eyebrow. "Why don't we call him and find out?" She pulls out her cell phone and dials his number.

"What the hell does Puck want now?" Santana asks, watching.

"Plans for tomorrow night," Rachel answers. "You know Noah, he wants it to be epic."

"At least he stopped saying, 'senior year, baby' every day," Quinn says.

"That was annoying," Santana agrees. "How did you stop that, babe?"

"Alcohol and a permanent marker," Rachel retorts as Alyson hands her the phone. "Hi Josh, it's Rachel."

"Oh hey, Rachel," Josh replies. "Ready to kick Al out yet?"

"Nah," Rachel replies. "She does the dishes."

"Yeah, she did when we were younger too," he says. "Always trying to make me look bad."

Rachel smiles, chuckling slightly. "I know this is kind of out of the blue, but do you play the drums?"

"I do," Josh responds cautiously.

"And what are you doing tomorrow night?" Rachel asks.

"Lins and I are going to see a movie. Why?"

Not knowing how else to ask, Rachel simply explains the whole situation and finishes with, "And so I was sort of hoping that you'd be our third. And Lindsey is totally welcomed too."

Josh doesn't answer right away and Rachel can't blame him. It's an odd question, especially considering their non relationship.

"It sounds like fun, actually," he says finally. "Let me talk to Lindsey and I'll call you back later."

"Excellent, thanks Josh."

"Bye Rachel."

"He said probably because he has to talk to Lindsey," Alyson says when Rachel hangs up.

Rachel nods.

"Do we even want to know?" Quinn asks.

"Probably not," Santana answers. "After all, it's Puck."

…

When Alyson's cell phone rings an hour later, she hands it over to Rachel, seeing Josh's name in the caller ID.

"Hello Alyson's phone, Rachel speaking."

"Hey Rachel, it's Josh."

"So what's the verdict?" Rachel asks.

"I'll be there. Lindsey won't be."

"Oh, well, if she--"

"No, don't worry," Josh interrupts. "Her mom's been bugging her about doing a mother daughter thing and Lindsey figured it'd be easier to just agree than argue."

"I suppose that's true."

"Do I need to bring my own drums?" he asks.

"I really don't know," Rachel replies. "Let me call Noah and I'll get back to you with specifics."

"Awesome," Josh says. "And thanks for inviting me Rachel. I know we're not friends exactly, but since my sisters seem to love you so much, who am I to question your greatness."

"If we both didn't already have girlfriends, I'd think you're flirting with me."

Josh laughs. "Right, careful with the compliments then."

"Sorry, Josh, I'm not used to it is all."

"Yeah, Aly and Kat explained it a bit," Josh replies. "No worries. Let me know about tomorrow. Okay?"

"I will. Thanks Josh."

Ending the call, Rachel hands Alyson back her cell phone with a smile. She then pulls her own phone out and calls Puck.

"Hello Noah. He said yes. So give me all the details."

…

When the doorbell rings Friday night, Rachel knows it's Josh. Noah would just knock and come in.

"Hey."

"Hi Josh," Rachel replies. "Thanks for meeting here."

"No biggie," Josh says. "You're right, it'll probably just be easier to go together."

"I hope you don't mind squeezing into Noah's truck since he's the only one who knows where we're going."

"I don't, if you don't."

Rachel doesn't get a chance to answer because Noah begins honking his horn to announce his arrival.

"And then he wonders why we didn't date that long," Rachel mutters, grabbing her coat.

Josh shakes his head in amusement and offers his arm. "Shall we?"

"Thank you, kind sir."

Josh and Rachel stroll outside arm in arm and hop into Noah's truck.

"You guys ready to rock?" Noah exclaims before peeling out of the driveway.

…

"You look sick to your stomach," Alyson says.

"So maybe I'm a little nervous," Quinn admits.

"We don’t have to do this, if you're not ready, Quinn," Alyson tells her.

"No. It's fine," Quinn says. "I want to do this. It'll be good for me."

"If you're sure…"

"I am. I talked it over with Britt and I think it'll be okay."

"All right," Alyson says. "So you're finally ready to get out of the car?"

They're currently sitting in Alyson's car which is in Quinn's driveway.

Quinn nods. "I'm ready."

…

It takes a little over an hour to get to Randy's Bar.

"You ready for this?" Puck asks as they climb out of his truck.

"Too late to back out now," Josh says. "I mean, we're here."

"Hey, if you guys don't want to do this."

"We've never played together Noah," Rachel says. "Or at least, not the three of us. I feel a bit of nervousness is appropriate."

"Right. Makes sense," he replies. "It's not like this is anything serious. Something else to try."

"Does he have some sort of senior year bucket list?" Josh whispers to Rachel.

"Not that I know of," she replies. "But now that you mention it, that does kind of make sense."

Once they're inside, they join the line forming to sign in. Rachel and Josh let Puck handle everything since it was his idea. Rachel quietly explains where Puck's choice of band name came from as they wait.

…

"Mom," Quinn says. "This is Alyson. Alyson this is my mom, Judy Fabray."

"Nice to meet you Mrs. Fabray."

"You too Alyson."

It's odd for Quinn to be sitting at the dining room table with Alyson and just her mom. The last time she sat at this table she'd been pregnant and Finn had announced it to her parents in song.

She supposes tonight will be filled with similar life changing revelations. She tries not to throw up.

"Hey," Alyson says. "Are you okay? You look…"

"Yes, Quinn," Judy adds. "You don't look so good. Maybe we should postpone this."

"Actually, mom, I'd rather not," Quinn says. "I should just say this and get it over with. And then maybe I can stop worrying all the time about what you're going to think."

"Quinn, dear, you're scaring me," Judy says.

"I'm sorry mom, that wasn't my intention."

"Just promise me you're not pregnant again."

"I swear on a stack of bibles, I'm not pregnant," Quinn says.

Judy lets out a visible sigh of relief.

"I am, however," Quinn continues. "Gay."

"I'm sorry, dear, I'm not quite sure I heard you," Judy says, looking pale. "Could you repeat that?"

"I'm gay," Quinn says louder. "And Alyson is my girlfriend. That's why I wanted you to meet her."

Judy doesn't respond immediately. She takes several drinks of water before saying, "Well that wasn't what I was expecting."

"I'm sorry," Quinn says. "I didn't mean to just spring this on you, but I didn't know how else to tell you."

"No, it's fine, Quinn," Judy replies. "I'm glad you told me. I think. No, I am. I'm glad you told me."

"You are?"

"I am," Judy nods. "I want you to be able to come to me."

"If you guys want a moment," Alyson says, rising out of her chair. "I can go use the bathroom or something."

"Thank you Alyson, that's sweet," Judy says. "But it's fine."

"If you're sure."

"I am." She takes a large gulp of water. "So you're dating my daughter."

Alyson visibly swallows. "I am."

"And you care about her?"

"I love her, Mrs. Fabray."

Apparently not expecting that, Judy can only nod. "And how did you two meet?"

"Um…"

"Rachel Berry introduced us," Quinn says. "She and Mike taught a dance class that Aly's little sister was in."

"And she introduced the two of you?"

"She did," Quinn nods.

"That was nice of her," Judy says. "So do you go to McKinley as well, Alyson?"

"Actually I'm a sophomore at the University of Pittsburgh," Alyson replies. "Soccer scholarship."

"Oh. So you're just in town for the holidays?"

"Unfortunately."

"Wait a moment," Judy says. "Did you say the University of Pittsburgh?"

"I did."

"And Quinn, didn't you drive to Pittsburgh with your friends a few months ago? To see a friend of Rachel's?"

"Um, yes," Quinn replies, meekly.

"I see," Judy says before taking another bite.

…

They're the youngest people in the bar. Rachel thought for sure, they'd be at least one other high school band. But all she can see are people in their twenties, late twenties, actually and she suddenly feels a bit foolish. All the other groups look serious and committed while she, Josh and Noah are just doing it for kicks.

"Do you think it's weird that the other groups are so much older than us?" Josh asks her.

"A little. I mean, they look like this is their big break."

"So we're either going to get booed off because we're not serious enough or because it doesn't mean as much to us."

"There's a difference?" Rachel questions.

"Or we say fuck it and have fun," Puck says.

"If you say senior year, baby, so help me, Noah and I will do something drastic."

"All my ideas lately have involved you singing, bro," Puck replies. "I figured you'd be happy."

"You're right," Rachel says. "I guess I'm just nervous."

"You nervous?"

"I like to be prepared," Rachel replies. "And no practice equals not prepared."

"You need to be more spontaneous," Puck says.

"This seems like a good start," Josh says.

…

Quinn spends the rest of dinner, fretting about how she's going to answer the question left unasked. She really wishes she was sitting next to Alyson; she feels so far away on the opposite side of the table.

Still her mother and Alyson seem to be getting along. They're having a discussion about wine racks of all things. Apparently Alyson's parents are connoisseurs. She supposes she should just be glad that her mom is getting along with Alyson and didn't freak out.

Quinn supposes she shouldn't be so tough on her mom. She really is trying. Which is more than she's ever done before.

"Well I should be going," Alyson says.

"I suppose you and Quinn have big Friday night plans," Judy says.

"Uh not specifically," Alyson replies. "I mean, we weren't sure if--"

"Nonsense. Go out. Have fun. Just be home by curfew, Quinnie," Judy says. "I mean it. We can talk tomorrow."

"You're sure, mom?"

"I am," Judy replies. "Thank you for introducing us."

"Mom, I--"

"Quinn, honey," Judy interrupts. "It's okay. Really."

"All right," Quinn says. "I'll be home by curfew."

"Have fun dear."

"Nice to have met you, Mrs. Fabray," Alyson says.

"You too, Alyson."

"Thank you for dinner, as well."

"Have fun, girls."

…

They're fourth out of nine bands. So they sit in the audience, get a drink and watch. The first group is four women who play what Rachel thinks of as pop punk. The next band is a guy and a girl, playing a haunting ballad on acoustic guitars. The third group is three guys and a girl on bass playing rock.

Then it's their turn. Josh sits at the drums while Noah plugs in his guitar. Rachel adjusts the mic stand and waits for Noah to begin playing.

Noah starts first, Midnight gettin' uptight Where are you
You said you'd meet me now it's quarter to two
I know I'm hangin' but I'm still wantin' you

Then Rachel takes over, Hey Jack It's a fact they're talkin' in town
I turn my back and you're messin' around
I'm not really jealous don't like lookin' like a clown

I think of you ev'ry night and day
You took my heart then you took my pride away

I hate myself for loving you
Can't break free from the the things that you do
I wanna walk but I run back to you that's why
I hate myself for loving you

Daylight spent the night without you
But I've been dreamin' 'bout the lovin' you do
I won't be as angry 'bout the hell you put me through

Hey man betcha you can treat me right
You just don't know what you was missin' last night
I wanna see you beggin', say forget it just for spite
I think of you ev'ry night and day
You took my heart then you took my pride away

I hate myself for loving you
Can't break free from the the things that you do
I wanna walk but I run back to you, that's why
I hate myself for loving you

I think of you ev'ry night and day
You took my heart then you took my pride away

I hate myself for loving you
Can't break free from the things that you do
I wanna walk but I run back to you that's why
I hate myself for loving you

I think of you ev'ry night and day
You took my heart then you took my pride away

I hate myself for loving you
Can't break free from the the things that you do
I wanna walk but I run back to you that's why
I hate myself for loving you
I hate myself
For loving you
I hate myself
For loving you
I hate myself
For loving you
I hate myself
I hate myself for loving you

The music finishes with a flourish and the three of them bow before jumping off stage.

They find their seats and listen to the last five bands. No one really sticks out except the last group, which is four guys in black jeans and wife beaters who jump around on stage and scream, to music.

They have to wait twenty minutes for the results. Rachel is glad, she makes Noah stop drinking beer and switch to water.

They don't win. Not that they expected to, though Rachel had been hoping for third place. But they only have first place which goes to the acoustic pair. She's okay losing to them because they were definitely the best.

…

"So that wasn't so bad," Alyson says as they drive to Rachel's.

"It did go better than expected," Quinn agrees.

"But?"

"She now knows that I'm the reason we all went to Pittsburgh and not Berry."

"Or that I'm the reason, you mean," Alyson counters.

"Either way."

"Are you worried?"

"Always," Quinn replies. "But I think it should be okay."

"Good," Alyson says. "Are you sure you're fine just going back to Rachel's?"

"Neither of us are out," Quinn points out. "It's the best choice."

"Being out at school, but not at home is tough," Alyson says.

"What happens when your parents visit?"

"They don't visit me," Alyson replies. "Well they didn't last year."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not," Alyson says. "Makes things easier, I figure. Besides, what would we do? Maybe they'd watch one of my games. Then I give them a tour of a campus that they already received a tour of? Followed by an uncomfortable dinner. No thank you."

"Yeah, I can see that."

"I mean they never really came to my games in high school."

"Yeah, mine didn't either," Quinn says.

"Speaking of parents, I've been here for an entire week and I have yet to see Rachel's dads."

"They're never around. Obviously," Quinn replies. "S said they're workaholics."

"Well they must live at the office then," Alyson says. "Because I haven't seen or heard any signs that anyone else lives there."

"You'd have to ask Berry, I guess," Quinn replies. "I hope she and Puck aren't drunk on the couch."

"That doesn't sound like Rachel," Alyson says. "Besides, she, Puck and Josh are pretend to be a band somewhere. Remember?"

"Oh yeah," Quinn says. "I wonder how that's going."

"Why? Is Puck terrible?"

"No," Quinn replies. "But the three of them have never played together."

"True," Alyson says as they park in Rachel's driveway.

The house is dark when they enter.

"Not back yet it seems," Alyson says.

"Movie?"

"Sounds good?"

…

"I had fun, even if we didn't win," Josh says as they drive back.

"Thanks for coming," Rachel replies. "I know it's kind of weird."

"Naw," Josh says. "Kat adores you and Aly has nothing but good things to say about you. I sort of feel like we're friends."

"I do too."

"We should play together more often," Puck interjects. "We sounded pretty awesome."

Josh shrugs.

"It does sound like a fun distraction," Rachel agrees. "But I'm not sure I'd have the time."

"Me either," Josh adds, shrugging. "Senior year and all."

"You guys suck," Puck grumbles.

…

Alyson’s car is the only one in the driveway when Puck pulls up.

“You want to come in and say hi?” Rachel asks Josh as they climb out of the truck.

“Naw,” Josh replies. “I mean, she’s probably sleeping.”

“You’re sure?”

Josh nods. “It’s a bigger deal for Kat to see her than me. We email and text plenty while she’s at school.”

“Okay. Thanks for coming with. Too bad we didn’t win.”

“Well, I wasn’t really expecting to,” Josh says.

“I wasn’t either,“ Rachel replies. “But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to.”

Josh grins. “Well, if you ever need a drummer, you know where to find me.”

“Bye Josh. Say hi to Lindsey. And tell her thanks for lending you to me for the night.”

Josh laughs. “I will.”

“You staying?” Rachel asks Puck who is now standing behind her.

“Probably not,” Puck replies. “I mean you’ve already picked out another bro.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Noah.”

“Well, you’re awful chummy with him.”

“He’s Alyson and Kat’s brother,” Rachel replies.

“Hmph.”

“Well if you’re not staying, then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night?”

“Yeah.”

“I had a good time tonight, Noah," Rachel says. "Thank you."

"Anything for you, Rach."

…

When Quinn enters the kitchen Saturday morning, she’s surprised to find her mom sitting at the table. “Morning mom,” she says as she gets herself a cup of coffee.

“How was the rest of your night, honey?”

“It was fine.” Quinn sits at the table across from her mom.

“Where did you end up going?”

“Oh, um, well…” Quinn doesn’t know if she should bring up the fact that Alyson is staying with Rachel. It just feels so awkward to explain. But she’s already come out to her mom, she might as well be completely honest. “She’s actually staying at Rachel Berry’s. And so we went back there and watched a movie.”

“Oh. Why isn’t she staying with her family?”

“Well, neither of us is out,” Quinn answers. “Well Aly is at school, but not in Lima. So Rachel offered Alyson a place to stay where she and I can hang out and be a couple.”

“Oh.”

Quinn sips her coffee and waits for her mom to say something. After a few minutes, Quinn asks, “Are you upset?”

“No, I understand why. I just… Alyson seems like a lovely girl.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“I really am glad you introduced us,” Judy continues. “And that you told me, Quinnie. I don’t want there to be any big secrets between us anymore.”

“I don’t either mom,” Quinn agrees.

“So I hate to do it, but I have to ask. When you went up to Pittsburgh with your friends, was that to see Alyson?”

“It was,” Quinn nods.

“I see.”

“You’re mad,” Quinn says.

“Not mad. I understand why. But the next time you want to visit Alyson, you have to be upfront with me.”

“I plan on it,” Quinn replies. “I just wasn’t ready before.”

“Are you telling other people?”

“Well, my friends know. Some of the glee kids. But I’d rather not.”

There’s a look of relief on her mom’s face that Quinn was expecting, but still doesn’t know how quite to respond to.

“Well, it’s your decision dear.”

“I only have half my senior year left,” Quinn says. “I really don’t want to have it be this big thing.”

“That is completely understandable,” Judy replies.

…

"This is going to suck."

"What makes you say that?" Rachel asks as she drives.

"Because it's at Missy's," Santana answers.

"Just because she and you don't see eye to eye, doesn't mean the party will suck," Quinn replies the back seat.

"She tried to steal my girlfriend," Santana argues.

"There'll be plenty of other people there, tiger," Rachel says. "It'll be fine."

"I don't trust her."

"Well, now that Wendy's dating Mike, I don't think you have anything to worry about," Rachel tells her.

"Or maybe she'll be even more insane," Santana grumbles. "You don't know. Wendy could have been the stabilizing force in the relationship."

"Stabilizing force? Seriously?" Quinn asks.

"Wait a minute," Alyson interrupts. "Wendy is one of the cheerleaders that went after Rach?"

"Unfortunately," Rachel answers.

"You must be the most forgiving person on the fucking planet," Alyson says, shaking her head.

"I don't see what there is to forgive," Rachel says. "I mean, sure, they didn't seem to understand the meaning of the word no, but how can I be upset that they find me attractive."

"I knew it," Santana crows.

"Oh like it's that shocking that Berry liked the attention," Quinn scoffs.

"Keep it up Quinn and you can be the designated driver this evening," Rachel says.

…

The party is in full swing when they arrive. Apparently, McKinley high students can't bear to be separated for too long.

"It's New Year's babe," Santana replies. "What else are they going to do in Lima?"

Rachel just grabs Santana's hand and lets herself be lead into the kitchen. There Santana mixes herself a drink and finds a bottle of water for Rachel.

"Bro," Puck says, joining them at the counter. "Lopez."

"Hello Noah."

"Puck."

"I'm surprised you're here," he says. "I thought you'd refuse as some sort of protest."

"Like I'm going to cower in the corner because Missy fucking Watters," Santana snaps.

"And she's lost her partner in crime," Rachel points out.

"I spose you're DDing, huh, bro?"

Rachel nods.

"Too bad. I was hoping we could get epically drunk together"

"Isn't that what bro nights are for?"

"Well something needs to happen or this party is going to be dull," Puck grumbles.

…

"We should have just spent the night at Berry's," Quinn says as they push through the party.

Alyson doesn't respond, just tugs Quinn in the direction of the back yard. After a brief scan of the yard, she pulls Quinn into the far corner and the darkness. Using her cell as a light, she finds the perfect spot, tosses the empty beer box she brought with on the ground and sits. She tugs Quinn down to join her.

"It's like the first time we met," Alyson says when Quinn resists slightly.

Quinn sighs and sinks to the ground next to Alyson. She leans into her and Alyson wraps an arm around Quinn pulling her closer.

"We can get a ride back to Rachel's, if you really want," Alyson says. "I'm sure we could find someone willing."

"We're already here," Quinn replies. "And Santana would give me so much shit for leaving."

"So? You guys give each other shit over the dumbest things."

"Hey," Quinn exclaims. "And I know. That's just how it is."

"All right. Then we'll just hang out here. It'll be cozy."

"And cold," Quinn points out.

"That's what the alcohol is for," Alyson tells her.

…

Seeing Wendy alone for a moment, Santana grabs her arm and pulls her into a corner.

"Uh, hey, Santana," Wendy says. "What's, uh, up?"

"Where's the crafty BF of yours?"

"Missy? I don't know. Drinking somewhere, I guess."

"She better not go after Rach," Santana growls.

"She hasn't said anything to me," Wendy defends.

"What is her obsession with my girlfriend?"

"I don't know. Really."

"You see her, you tell her to back off," Santana orders.

"Of course. Anything you say, Santana."

"Good. As you were."

…

"You sure you don't want to be inside, partying?" Quinn asks.

"Are you?" Alyson counters. "These are your friends, or whatever you want to call them."

"I’m sorry I can't hold your hand in there."

"Are you apologizing for not being out? To me?"

"Well, I guess."

"Coming out right now is not an option."

"I've heard stories," Quinn says. "I know what your dad would do."

"I just can't do that to Kat. Josh would survive. After all, he's almost out of there. But Kat… I can't leave her alone in that house."

"She will be next year," Quinn points out.

"Yeah, but as long as Josh and I are still welcomed in the house, it'll be okay."

Quinn sighs. "Family is messy."

…

"I suppose this is my fault for using the bathroom at your house," Rachel says, wryly.

Missy smirks, nodding slightly.

Rachel crosses her arms, leans against the sink and waits.

Instead of lunging forward, like Rachel expects, Missy lets her eyes roam up and down Rachel's figure, spending a large amount of time on her breasts.

Rachel tries not to flinch under her intrusive gaze.

"How is it that you look so damn good in jeans?" Wendy asks finally.

Rachel had purposely chosen jeans and a flannel in hopes of avoiding this very situation. Santana had looked at her oddly, but had nodded her approval at the explanation.

"May I please leave now that you've visually violated me?"

"One more minute?"

"You should really find another hobby," Rachel says. "After all, I graduate this year. And then who will you have to stalk?"

"There's always Britt's new girl," Missy smirks.

"Don't even think about it."

"She obviously has a thing for blonde Cheerios," Missy continues.

Rachel takes a step forward into Missy's personal space. "If you do anything to Marisa, I will make your life so miserable that you'll have to transfer to Jane Adams Academy."

"Oooh, a challenge," Missy grins.

"Take it however you want," Rachel says. "But it's the truth." She then pushes past Missy and exits the bathroom.

…

"Hey Rachel."

"Oh hi Mike," Rachel says, looking up.

"Do I want to know why you're hiding?"

"Is sitting on the top of the stairs really hiding?"

"When we're all supposed to stay downstairs it is," Mike replies.

"Oh please, you know there are people doing things up here," Rachel retorts.

"So why are you hiding?"

"Missy Watters," Rachel sighs.

"I think she enjoys torturing you," Mike says.

"Sexually?"

"Um…"

"I mean, why does she keep hitting on me?"

"That's what I mean," Mike replies. "She enjoys your reaction."

"Well that really sucks," Rachel says. "Because ignoring it is so much more difficult than normal bullying."

"Want me to talk to Wendy?"

"No. That's not fair to either of you guys."

"Fair isn't a word I'd used to describe our high school experience," Mike says.

Rachel laughs. "Still. You don't have to."

"What about Santana?"

"I'd really rather not bring her into it," Rachel says. "I mean, I'll tell her. But…"

"Well if you change your mind."

"Thanks Mike."

…

Puck's surprised by the lack of drama. He thought for sure, something would happen. They always do. Maybe after so much time away from each other, it takes longer for the drama to build. He's not complaining. He's glad to experience an entire party without some sort of inane crisis.

Grabbing another beer, he wonders if he can catch a ride home with Rachel. Looking around, he doesn't see her. He'll have to keep his eyes open then.

…

Sunday morning, Rachel lets herself sleep in. She knows the other three occupants of the house probably wouldn’t appreciate her early morning workout, so when she wakes up with the sun, Rachel simply snuggles further into Santana and closes her eyes, letting herself drift back to sleep.

…

"I'm really going to miss you," Quinn says.

"Me too. But we'll figure out a good time for another visit, soon, right?"

"Yeah," Quinn says. "Maybe now that mom knows, she'll let me drive up by myself."

"You don't think Rachel and them would agree to go again?"

"Oh, I know Berry would," Quinn replies. "And she'd make Santana come with. It's just this huge hassle."

"I guess that's true."

"Call me when you get back?" Quinn asks.

"Of course." Alyson pulls Quinn in for a kiss. "I love you. Thanks for an amazing week."

"I could say the same to you," Quinn replies. "And I love you too."

Alyson's grin at Quinn's words is so sweet that Quinn has to kiss her again.

"I wish--"

"I know. But I'll call you tonight, okay?"

Quinn nods.

Alyson gives her one last kiss, grabs her stuff and hustles out the door.

…

Both Rachel and Santana look up when someone knocks on Rachel's bedroom door.

"Come in," Rachel calls out.

The door doesn't open. "It's Quinn. You're decent, right?"

"Would we have told you to come in if we weren't?" Santana replies.

The door swings open slowly. "Good point."

"Alyson's gone?" Rachel asks.

Quinn nods and slumps on the bed next to Santana who's trying to read The Sound and the Fury.

"We can figure out another time to visit her," Rachel says. "I'm hoping my mom will be okay with just me going," Quinn says.

"Now that sounds like an interesting conversation," Santana chuckles.

…

"Mom's going to be glad to see you," Santana says as they drive to her house for Sunday night dinner. "I think she was more upset than me that she didn't see you last weekend."

"She just worries about me being lonely," Rachel replies.

"Felix will be glad to see you too, I'm sure."

"When does he head back to school?"

"Tomorrow morning," Santana replies. "He likes to wait until the last possible minute. So he plans to be back right before his first class tomorrow."

"That seems risky."

"I think he just wants one more home cooked meal before he heads back."

"He's really perfected that college stereo type hasn't he?" Rachel muses.

…

"This looks delicious," Emma says as she sits down.

Jack pushes her chair closer to the table and sits in his own across from her.

"Thanks, though it's just linguine," he replies.

They're having dinner at Jack's apartment. Emma's surprised that she's not nervous. Jack has been nothing but patient and sweet and Emma's never felt pressured.

They eat and chat, the conversation meandering.

Even though Emma is enjoying herself, she's still a bit sad. When school resumes, Tuesday, Jack won't be there. Mrs. Matthews is back from maternity leave and so Jack is filling in at the middle school. Emma's going to miss seeing him around, having lunch together.

"What's wrong?" Jack asks.

"I've been spoiled," Emma replies. "I'm used to having you at McKinley and now that you're not going to be, I'm going to miss you."

"I'm going to miss having lunch with you too," Jack smiles.

…

"Back to the grindstone," Santana says getting into Rachel's car Tuesday morning.

"Yes," Rachel agrees. "But only a few more months and then we're free of McKinley."

"That is definitely something to look forward to," Santana says. "To school, driver."

"Don’t even, Miss Daisy."

"Love you too, babe."

fic: The Icing on the Cake

2012-09-02T22:57:15Z

Title: The Icing on the Cake
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, Puck
Rating: PG
Summary: Santana and Puck want to make sure Rachel has the perfect birthday.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~5,850
Spoilers: References previous parts.
A/N: Follows Chains and Wedges. I apologize for putting so many songs in this fic. All songs are listed at the end.
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.

series masterlist

"Hey babe?"

Santana is currently stretched out on Rachel's bed trying to care about Calculus while Rachel reads The Tempest.

"Yes?"

"Did I tell you how awesome your duet with Artie was today?"

Rachel smiles. "You did."

"Good."

Rachel waits a moment before asking, "Is that it?"

"Well now that you mention it, I do have one more question."

Taking note of what page she's on, Rachel closes her bed and sets it on the bed. "Okay."

"Your birthday is coming up."

"It is," Rachel nods. "Was that the question?"

"Uh, no. I was just wondering what you wanted to do this year. I mean last year we had that surprise party, but I wasn't sure if you wanted that again."

"What makes you say that?" Rachel asks.

Santana rolls over and sits up. "I don't know. I guess it just feels like there's more going on. Maybe I'm just projecting, because I sometimes feel like I'm surrounded by chaos."

"I don't want to sound like Noah, but it is our senior year," Rachel says. "I believe it's mandatory."

"Okay, which brings me back to my original question. What would you like to do for your birthday?"

"Well I don't need a big surprise party this year, if that's what you're worried about."

"All right."

"Is it lame that I just want to spend the weekend with you? I feel like I've barely seen you lately."

"Me too, babe." Santana can't help but lean in for a kiss. And though she'd really like to just push all the books off the bed and have her way with Rachel, she has a test coming up that she's definitely not ready for. She pulls away with a sigh.

"I gotta get back to this."

"We'll celebrate when you get an A," Rachel tells her.

…

A week later, at the end of the day, Puck stops by Santana's locker.

"Lopez."

"Puckerman."

"So my bro's birthday is coming up," Puck says.

"Congratulations, you can read a calendar and remember a piece of information."

"I figure you get Saturday and Sunday. But I still get Friday right?"

"I suppose that's up to Rachel," Santana replies.

"Yeah?"

"She doesn't want a party," Santana explains. "So it's just going to be me and her. But if she wants to spend Friday night bro-ing it up, that's her choice."

"All right. I'll talk to her," Puck says. "Later S."

…

Six days later, Santana is in the music room with Tom, bright and early.

"Nice job, Santana," Tom says. "I think you've got it."

"Thanks Tom."

"Now it's time to try it without the music."

"What? Not possible," Santana replies. "I mean I only have a couple days."

"So?" Tom counters. "I don't know if you realize this, but you're not using the sheet music as much as you think."

"I appreciate it the vote of confidence, Tom, really," Santana says. "But this song has to happen perfectly. That's even more important than the presentation."

"Personally, I think they're equally important," Tom tells her. "Just try it once. If you completely fuck up, I'll drop it. I swear."

"Swear on this ridiculously expensive baby grand piano," Santana says.

Tom place his hand on the open lid. "I swear."

"All right. One time."

Sitting back down on the plastic chair he'd grabbed from the corner, Tom closes his eyes and listens. He feels confidence that Santana won't look at the sheet music since doing so would mean Tom not dropping the idea.

Once Santana's finished, he can't help but clap. "That was excellent."

"What are you talking about?" Santana asks. "I made like five mistakes."

"Five tiny mistakes," Tom tells her. "We can definitely fix those before Thursday."

"Fine," Santana replies. "But I reserve the right to change my mind."

"I wouldn’t dream of disagreeing with you," Tom says with a smile. "Want to try it again?"

…

Puck's spent the last week coming up with possible ideas for Rachel's birthday. He knows if he goes to her without ideas, they'll end up sitting on the couch drinking. And that is not how his bro should celebrate her birthday.

"So bro," Puck says when he finds Rachel at her locker. "We're going to have to live it up this Friday, right?"

"It depends on what you mean by that, Noah," Rachel replies. "And why?"

"Uh, for you birthday, of course," Puck tells her. "I mean, it's our senior year. I may have mellowed a bit, but there are still some key moments that need to be properly celebrated."

"And my birthday is one of them?"

Puck nods.

"Let's hear your ideas then," Rachel says.

…

Thursday afternoon glee runs normally. They go through a possible group number for regionals, trying to stay focused, despite having only a week before winter break start.

"Okay," Mr. Schuester says. "We have one more song to perform before I dismiss you. Santana, uh, has requested to sing a song. So let's give her a round of applause."

Everyone claps as Santana stands and walks to the piano.

"So on Sunday it's my amazing girlfriend's birthday. And so this is the first part of my gift to her."

And then to everyone's shock, Santana sits down as Brad stands.

Rachel can only stare as Santana begins playing.

I don't wear designer clothes
I don't go to the finest schools
But, I know I ain't no fool baby
I may not be a star
I'm not driving the sickest car
But, I know I can make you happy baby
I don't know what you been used to
Never been with a girl like you
But, I can give you a love that's true to
Your heart, not material things

I'll give you my song
These words to you
Sing you what I feel
My soul is true.
I don't have the world
Can't give it to you girl,
But all that I can do
Is give this song to you

Nah Nah
Nah Nah
Nah Nah
Yeah I know that you are blessed
But there's something you're missing yet
Your own melody... oh baby
I don't know what you been used to
Never been with a girl like you
But, I can give you a love that's true too
Your heart, not material things

I'll give you my song
These words to you
Sing you what I feel
My soul is true
I don't have the world
Can't give it to you girl
But all that I can do
Is give this song to you

I'll give you my heart, my song, my words baby
What I can say, I'll sing it.
Oh, Oooh, Oooooh
I'll give my song an the rest to you baby, baby
Sing you what I feel, my soul is true

I'll give you my song
These words to you
Sing you what I feel
My soul is true
My soul is true
I don't have the world
Can't give it to you girl
But all that I can do
Is give this song to you

There's a moment of stunned silence when Santana finishes. She stands nervously as everyone begins to clap. Rachel stands slowly and walks over to Santana.

"That was incredible," she whispers, wrapping her arms around her.

"I'm glad you liked it," Santana whispers back.

"I didn't know you could play the piano, Santana," Mr. Schue says.

"I can't," Santana replies. "I just learned that song."

"Impressive."

Rachel kisses Santana chastely. "You are so amazing."

"Well that's all for today guys," Mr. Schue says. "See you next week."

Puck is the first to reach Santana. He smacks her on the back. "Not bad, Lopez."

"Whatever, dude," Santana replies. "I don't need your approval."

Puck elbows her as she accepts the others' praise. Her other hand stays firmly intertwined with Rachel's, who can't stop gazing adoringly at her girlfriend.

…

"You'd tell me if you didn't like it, right?" Santana asks Rachel as they drive to her house.

"Of course I would, San," Rachel replies. "But you should really know that singing me a song is never a wrong move."

"Oh I know that," Santana says. "But there are other factors to consider. Song choice, instrument choice, uh…"

"Well, I thought it was perfect, just the way you did it," Rachel tells her.

"You deserve perfection."

"Who knew Santana Lopez was such a romantic?" Rachel muses as they pull into her driveway.

"Don't say things like that out loud," Santana tells her as they climb out. "Or I'll be forced to take you inside and ravage you."

"How is that a bad thing exactly?" Rachel asks, unlocking the front door.

"Maybe I use the handcuffs."

"Considering what happened the last time we used handcuffs, that is a threat," Rachel teases. "I thought we were going to stick to scarves?"

"Fine, I'll use the scarves then," Santana says. She slaps Rachel's ass. "Now get your ass up to your room and strip."

"Bossy. I like it."

…

"So are you finally telling me what we're doing tonight?" Rachel asks.

It's Friday night and she's sitting in Noah's truck as they drive somewhere. He's been unusually secretive about the whole evening, which makes Rachel nervous. If Noah's being secretive, the past has shown Rachel that she has reasons to be concerned.

"You know what surprises me the most about you bro?"

"Do I want to?" Rachel questions.

"I figured for sure, as someone who is a fan of big romantic gestures, that surprises would be a good thing."

"They can be," Rachel replies. "In the right context."

"The right context?" Noah questions. "Boring."

"So where are we going?"

"This bar I know," Noah answers. "It's a little out of the way, but I'm sure you'll love it."

"If this is a gay bar--"

"It's not. Well, I don't think it is. And if it is, that is not the reason we're going there."

"All right," Rachel says. "How much longer?"

"Ten minutes maybe?"

"But you're not going to tell me why we're going there?"

"Nope."

…

Rachel doesn't feel much better when Noah pulls into the dirt parking lot of Pete's. It looks like a decrepit old shack in the middle of the woods. Noah's truck fits in perfectly as he parks between two other well driven vehicles.

"Thank you for telling me to wear jeans," Rachel says as they walk inside.

Noah just smirks.

Inside isn't what Rachel expected. There's a bar against one wall and a stage in the corner. It has two stools, two mic stands and a small TV on it. Next to the stage is a woman in her late twenties apparently setting up karaoke.

"Karaoke?" Rachel asks.

Noah nods.

The rest of the bar is filled with small tables and chairs. There's a jukebox in another corner next to signs directing people to the restrooms. The place isn't that full. There are five or six people at the bar and maybe eight people sitting in the audience, obviously waiting for the karaoke to start.

"Go grab a book and a table," Noah tells her. "I'll get us drinks."

"Noah, don't--"

"Soda, Rach," Noah interrupts. "I swear."

"All right," Rachel nods.

…

Noah hands her a bottle of water when he returns.

"It's probably the only thing here vegan," he explains with a shrug.

Rachel smiles. "We're doing a duet, right?"

"Of course," Noah replies. "Though I reserve the right to veto your choice."

"That seems fair," Rachel says. "I'm going to go hand in my first song." She stands. "You're singing, right?"

"You got it, bro."

…

"Okay, our next singer is Rachel and she'll be singing, All That Jazz," the woman who is running the Karaoke, whose name is Natalie, announces.

Rachel jumps up and hurries onto the stage. She accepts the mic with a slight curtsey and waits for the music to start.

…

"I've found the perfect duet for us," Rachel says. "You Don't Bring Me Flowers."

"Seriously, Rach? I mean, I know you love Barbra, but it's so…"

"But it's Barbra, like you said. Plus, Neil Diamond. You like him, right?"

"I suppose." Noah sighs. "Fine. But then I get to pick a duet for us of my choosing."

"I get veto power right?"

"You do," Noah replies. "But you'll have to argue your case well."

"Very well," Rachel says. "I accept your challenge."

"All right, next up we have Noah singing Last Christmas."

The audience applause is sporadic at best as Noah walks up to the stage. He grabs the mic and says, "I know it's cheesy to pick a Christmas song, especially considering what happens in about a week, but I don't consider this a Christmas song, not really, anyway. So yeah."

Noah doesn't have to start singing for almost a minute after the music starts. He uses this time to prance around stage in a manner that makes Rachel reach over and sniff his drink to make sure it doesn't have liquor in it.

When he finally starts singing, Rachel can't help but grin. Despite the time of year, she approves of his song choice.

…

As time passes, more people arrive and so the wait between their songs increases. Rachel doesn't mind. She still can't believe Noah brought her here without any prompting or begging. And the fact that he's going to sing a Barbra song with her is like icing on the cake.

Therefore when their names are announced, Rachel practically bounces up to the stage. She does a few jumps once they're on stage and Puck's worried that she's going to vibrate off the stage because she's so excited. However, once the music starts, she calms.

You don't bring me flowers
You don't sing me love songs, Rachel sings.

As Rachel lowers her mic, Puck starts, You hardly talk to me anymore
When you come through that door at the end of the day...

Rachel turns to face Puck as she sings. I remember when you couldn't wait to love me
Used to hate to leave me
Now after loving me late at night

When it's good for you, babe
And you're feeling all right; Puck sings back.

Rachel seems to be channeling Barbra Streisand as she sings, When you just roll over and turn out the light...
And you don't bring me flowers anymore

It used to be so natural, Puck sings.

Rachel sings back, It used to be...

Puck is starting to get into it, To talk about forever

Mmm... Rachel half sings, half hums.

Puck grabs Rachel's hand as he sings, But used-to-bes don't count anymore
They just lay on the floor
Till we sweep them away

Rachel smiles sweetly as she sings back, And baby I remember all the things you taught me

Dropping her hand, Puck has his hand on his chest as he sings, I learned how to laugh and I learned how to cry

Rachel mirrors his action as she sings back, Well, I learned how to love and I learned how to lie

Puck looks right into Rachel's eyes as he sings, So you think I could learn how to tell you goodbye

Rachel is staring back just as intently. So you think I could learn how to tell you goodbye
You don't bring me flowers any more...

As they link hands, they both sing, Well, you think I could learn how to tell you goodbye...

Puck turns to face her. Cause you don't say you need me;

Rachel faces Puck as well. You don't sing me love songs;

They both face the audience as they sing the last line. You don't bring me flowers anymore...

The audience claps loudly as they bow and hand the mics back. Rachel skips back to her seat and trying to hide his smile, Puck follows.

…

After getting them another drink, Puck sits down and starts going through the book looking for a good duet.

Rachel twists open the new bottle of water and tries not to cringe at the singer on stage who is butchering My Heart Will Go On.

When Puck eventually looks up, he sees a guy jumping around on stage singing, Without Me.

"Found it," he says.

"Oh?"

"Yep," Puck replies. "Perfect duet for us." He writes all the information down on the slip and slides it over to Rachel, so she can read it.

Rachel nods thoughtfully. "All right."

"Next up, we have Rachel," Natalie announces. "And she'll be singing, Being Alive."

"Hand that in, will you?" Puck asks.

Rachel nods and prances up to the stage. She hands Natalie the slip of paper and eagerly accepts the mic.

…

Because the bar is pretty full, Puck is worried that they won't get to the duet before the night is over. He supposes he doesn't mind, since this night is supposed to be all about Rachel. But he does enjoy singing with his bro and he'd like to sing a song of his choice.

"All right everyone that was Jason singing Live and Let Die," Natalie says. "We have time for one more before we call it a night. So let's get Noah and Rachel up here to sing Under Pressure."

Accepting a mic, Puck looks over at Rachel. It's obvious that she enjoys being on stage, no matter what song and he can't help but smile.

Rachel starts first, Mm ba ba de
Um bum ba de
Um bu bu bum da de

They both start singing, Pressure pushing down on me
Pressing down on you, no man ask for
Under pressure

Rachel takes over, that burns a building down
Splits a family in two

And then Puck adds, Puts people on streets

Bouncing slightly, Rachel sings, Um ba ba be
Um ba ba be
De day da
Ee day da - that's okay

Then Puck starts, It's the terror of knowing
What this world is about
Watching some good friends
Screaming

They both sing, Let me out

Rachel sings Pray tomorrow - gets me higher

Puck joins in, Pressure on people - people on streets

Dancing slightly to the music, Rachel sings, Day day de mm hm
Da da da ba ba
Okay
Chippin' around - kick my brains around the floor
These are the days, it never rains but it pours
Ee do ba be
Ee da ba ba ba
Um bo bo
Be lap
People on streets - ee da de da de
People on streets - ee da de da de da de da

Puck then takes over, It's the terror of knowing
What this world is about
Watching some good friends
Screaming

They both sing, Let me out

Rachel sings, Pray tomorrow - gets me higher high high

Then Puck sings, Pressure on people - people on streets

They both sing, Turned away from it all like a blind man
Sat on a fence but it don't work

And then Rachel stops as Puck sings, Keep coming up with love
but it's so slashed and torn

Rachel sings, Why - why - whyyyyyyyyyyyy? Holding the last note for almost fifteen seconds.

As she holding the note, Puck sings, Love love love love love
Insanity laughs under pressure we're cracking

Rachel sings, Can't we give ourselves one more chance
Why can't we give love that one more chance
Why can't we give love give love give love give love
give love give love give love give love give love

Puck takes over, Cause love's such an old-fashioned word
And love dares you to care for
The people
on the edge of the night
And love dares you to change our way of

They both finish the song, Caring about ourselves
This is our last dance
This is our last dance
This is ourselves
Under pressure
Under pressure
Pressure

Everyone starts clapping as the music ends and they both give a half bow before Rachel hops off stage and Puck follows, sauntering after.

…

The drive home is filled with Noah blasting the radio and singing loudly, no matter what the song. Rachel can't help, but join in, though she's laughing more than singing. His rendition of Come Sail Away is almost too much for her to handle.

When they reach her house, Noah pulls into the driveway, but doesn't shut off his truck.

"You're not coming in?" Rachel asks.

"Naw," he replies. "I mean, I'm not drunk and I'm sure Santana will be over here bright and early tomorrow. It just makes sense for me to go home."

"Oh. Well thanks for tonight. I had a great time."

"Me too," Noah says. "Oh hey." He reaches into the space behind the seats and pulls out a paper bag. "Since you're not having a party this year, the guys gave these to me to give to you tonight."

"What is it?"

"It's birthday presents," Noah tells her. "From me, Britt, Marisa, Mike, Artie, Tina and Quinn."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"But… really?"

He nods.

"Thank you." Rachel accepts the grocery bag. "Will you at least come in while I open yours?"

"I think I can do that."

Once they're inside, Rachel sits on the couch and digs through the bag. She pulls out a box wrapped in gold paper.

"Too much?" Noah asks, gesturing to the paper.

"It's sweet," Rachel assures him.

"I had someone else wrap it," Noah says. "Otherwise, it would probably be more tape than paper."

Nodding, Rachel slowly opens it, careful not to tear the paper. She then opens the white box, not sure what to expect. She lifts some tissue paper to find a framed picture of her and Noah. It's of the two of them, singing together last year; someone must have snapped it during glee.

"Cheesy, I know," he says.

"It's perfect," Rachel replies.

"There's more," Noah grins.

Rachel nods again and pulls out the tissue paper. "Seriously, Noah?" she asks, holding up a packet of edible underwear.

"They're chocolate flavored," Noah tells her, smirking. "I was going to get the berry flavored one, but I thought that might a little too spot on."

Shaking her head, Rachel sets them back in the box and stands. She pulls Noah into a hug. "Thank you."

"You like it?"

"I do," Rachel replies. "It's so… you."

"As your bro, it's my job to encourage your sex life."

"Thank you, I guess."

"All right, bro," Noah says. "I'm gonna go. I'll see you Monday."

"Good night, Noah."

…

After she walks Noah out, Rachel is left alone with a bag of presents. She knows she should wait, but she can't help it; she's curious. She sits back down on the couch and pulls out a present.

It's a CD case with a bow on it and a small card that says, Happy Birthday Rachel Artie

It's a mix CD. She recognizes some of the names on the track list, but there are enough that she doesn't. She and Artie have ended up talking about music a lot lately and he always teasing saying that he needs to introduce her to his music.

The next thing she pulls out is white envelope. She carefully pulls it open and pulls out the card. The front has about half a dozen pink yard flamingos looking down at the camera. In the top left corner it says, If this is the first thing you see the morning after your birthday celebration, you may want to ask yourself these important questions: She opens the card and can't help but laugh: Am I naked? Is this my front yard? Who are these people and why are their necks so long?

Then under that in her precise penmanship is a short note from Quinn. Berry, don't let Puckerman or Lopez get you into too much trouble this weekend. You create enough of it by yourself. Just a little something from Alyson and me. Happy Birthday. Quinn

There's an iTunes gift card taped to the other interior side of the card.

It makes Rachel smile. She hadn't been expecting anything from either of them. It's a pleasant surprise.

The next card is from Tina. Happy birthday, Rachel Tina There's a gift card from Between the Sheets.

Mike's gift is three books: Vegan Cooking for Those Who Aren't, How to Fix EVERYTHING and Hello Gorgeous: Becoming Barbra Streisand.

The final gift is the largest and is from Brittany and Marisa. Rachel reads the card first.

Rachy, Somethings I thought would be fun for you and San. Britt

Happy birthday, Rachel. These were Brittany's idea. I'm just along for the ride. Marisa

Rachel chuckles after reading Marisa's part. That's probably the perfect description of their relationship.

The paper is pink with white polka dots. She unwraps it and laughs. It's Hungry, Hungry Hippos. Rachel has a vague memory of Britt saying that it's her favorite game. She lifts the game box to see what the second box is and just shakes her head. The second box is also a game, called The Bedroom Game. It also proclaims that it's guaranteed to spice up her sex life.

It's just so Brittany, Rachel laughs. She can't wait to see what Santana thinks of it.

…

When Rachel wakes up bright and early Saturday morning, she's surprised to find Santana spooning in bed with her. What amuses her is that Santana is naked, despite Rachel's own sleepwear choice of flannel pants and a tank top. Rachel wonders why if she's cold, though considering how tightly she's wrapped around Rachel, maybe she is.

"San," Rachel whispers. "San."

"Mmmm. Sleeping."

"San, when did you get here?"

"Sunrise," Santana murmurs, inching closer and tightening her grip around Rachel.

"Okay," Rachel says as she closes her eyes and relaxes into her girlfriend's embrace. "Sleep then."

"Yay," Santana mutters, already sleeping again.

…

When Rachel wakes up, it's definitely later. This time when she tries to wake Santana, it's easier.

"Hey babe," Santana smiles.

"You're here early."

"Couldn't sleep."

"You are too adorable," Rachel tells her.

"Don't look at me like that," Santana says. "We have finals this week and then it's Christmas and then Alyson will be around and then we'll be back to school. This weekend is gonna be just you and me because it won't be for a while."

"You're such a sap."

"Oh hush, you love it."

…

Rachel doesn't get a chance to bring up the gifts until after lunch. Santana asks, noticing the grocery bag sitting by her desk.

"Oh Noah gave me a birthday gift," Rachel explains. "And I guess the others decided he would be the best delivery guy."

"Oooh, what'd you get?"

Rachel feels Santana needs to experience the ridiculous for herself, so she gestures for her to look.

Santana hops off the bed and grabs the bag. She sits back down on the bed with so much enthusiasm, Rachel almost thinks it's Santana's birthday.

"Seriously Puckerman?" Santana mutters, holding up the edible underwear.

Rachel just shrugs.

Mike's book choices make her smile. "Chang's a good guy."

Brittany and Marisa's gift gets a laugh when Santana sees Hungry, Hungry Hippos.

"Britt and I used to play this all the time until I broke it from pushing down too hard."

Rachel chuckles. She can imagine how competitive six-year-old Santana was.

"Really B?" Santana says, looking at The Bedroom Game.

"At least her intentions were slightly better than Noah's," Rachel says.

Santana is shaking her head. "I don't know if I should be insulted because she's insinuating our sex life needs spicing up or amused because she wants us to spice things up in the bedroom."

"I'm going with the second one," Rachel tells her.

…

Saturday is spent in bed, which is something they haven't done in a while. Santana feels like it's been weeks since she's had a proper amount of time with her girlfriend. Nonetheless, she can't help but ask, "Are you sure you don't want to do anything else?"

"I told you, San," Rachel replies. "All I want to do is spend the weekend with you."

"Yeah, but--"

"You and I against the world, remember? I never thought that randomly hooking up with you would change my life so dramatically," Rachel tells her. "All the good things in my life? They're because of you."

"That's not true."

"You stopped the slushies, the bullying, I get to have family dinners every Sunday and I have an amazing girlfriend," Rachel says. "All because of you."

"Yeah, well I have an awesome, badass girlfriend who pulls pranks, outsmarts the administration and can still belt out a song on a moment's notice," Santana counters. "I say we both got a good deal."

"I suppose I can agree to that."

…

"Why do you keep looking at the clock?" Rachel whispers as she and Santana cuddle.

"Because," Santana says. "It's your birthday now, so I wanna be able to give you your gift."

"San."

Santana rolls over slightly and grabs a metallic pink gift bag from the floor. "Happy birthday, babe."

"Santana, you didn't have to," Rachel says. "The song was--"

"Don't even," Santana interrupts. "It's my girl's birthday, she gets gifts."

Rachel just nods shyly, pushing aside the tissue paper. She pulls out a mace keychain. She looks at Santana.

"The theme is things you're going to need for New York."

Rachel grins and reaches back into the bag. She pulls out a small black book, NFT: Not For Tourists Guide to New York City. The next thing she pulls out is a CD case.

"I know a mix CD is cheesy, but," Santana shrugs. "They're songs that say how I feel about you."

Rachel's grin gets larger as she leans forward and kisses Santana softly. "You know I love it."

Rachel pulls out a T-shirt next. She unfolds it and chuckles. It's two people with silverware chasing a bowl of, what Rachel assumes is, tofu. And then under it says, Vegans Gone Wild.

The final item in the bag is a small, rectangular white box. Rachel pulls it out slowly and opens it. Inside is a white gold heart that has two diamonds in prong settings in the center of the heart.

"Oh, Santana, it's beautiful."

"It's a Duo heart pendant," Santana says, trying not the blush. "Duo Jewelry is supposed to be designed to celebrate a couple's love."

"It's perfect," Rachel says. "I'd ask you to put it on me, but considering my state of undress, it might give me Titanic flashbacks."

Santana laughs. "That's fine. My drawing skills aren't that great, anyway. I'm just glad you like it."

"I love it," Rachel assures her. "I love it all. This might be my best birthday yet."

"Even better than last year?"

"You make every birthday special, tiger."

"I'm just trying to make the day as special as you," Santana smiles.

…

Sunday morning, Rachel wakes up to the smell of coffee and… waffles. She's also alone in bed. Looking at the time, she sees it's still early. She is impressed that Santana's awake and functioning since they didn't fall asleep until just a few hours ago.

She's debating whether or not to get up when she hears Santana coming quietly up the stairs. Since the decision has been taken from her, Rachel closes her eyes and pretends to be asleep. She feels Santana's gentle presence on the bed and tries not to smile.

"I know you're awake, babe," Santana whispers.

"No I'm not," Rachel whispers back. "I'm sleeping."

"You're awake."

"No, see, my eyes are closed."

"But you're talking to me."

Rachel opens her eyes and finds her girlfriend sitting in front of her with a single rose.

"Happy birthday, Rach." Santana holds out the flower. "It's almost as beautiful as you."

"You are ridiculously sweet," Rachel says, sitting up. "Come here." Rachel pulls Santana in for a kiss and lets herself fall back onto the bed.

Kissing back, Santana straddles Rachel, letting her hands enjoy all of Rachel's exposed skin. When Rachel tries to push Santana's pajama pants down, Santana reluctantly stops her.

"As much as I loved to let you have your wicked way with me, babe," she says. "I have breakfast ready for you downstairs and it's probably getting cold."

"It's your fault for coming in here all sexy," Rachel pouts.

Santana looks at her red and white striped pajama pants and wife beater. "I think you might be biased."

Rachel just smirks as she grabs her clothes off the floor.

…

When they reach the bottom of the steps, Santana makes Rachel cover her eyes. She leads her to the kitchen table and has her sit.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now."

On the table sits a stack of waffles, a bowl of fresh, cut up fruit and another rose in a vase. Santana sets a mug of coffee in front of Rachel.

"Well dig in."

"Oh my god, Santana," Rachel groans after taking a bite. "These are amazing."

"Your recipe," Santana smiles. "I just followed 'em."

"Good. That means you can make breakfast more often," Rachel replies.

"Anything for you, babe."

"You are getting so many orgasm for these waffles," Rachel says between bites. "I mean, you were already getting them, but now… now, it will be my singled minded focus."

Shaking her head and chuckling, Santana just piles some fruit onto her plate.

…

"Good birthday?"

"My favorite so far," Rachel replies.

"And you don't mind still going to Sunday dinner?" Santana asks.

"You know I enjoy spending time with your parents, San," Rachel says.

"Good because mom is all excited about this new vegan lasagna recipe she found. Eggplant, I think."

"Oooh, sounds tasty."

"I don't know," Santana says. "I don't think food should be purple."

"What about grape?" Rachel asks.

"That's a flavor," Santana replies. "That's different."

"Any other colors you hate?"

"I don't hate the color purple," Santana insists. "We just don't always see eye to eye."

Since Santana is driving, Rachel is free to stare at her in disbelief. "Is my quirkiness rubbing off on you? Or have you just stopped trying to hide it?"

"Probably the second one," Santana says. "Don't pretend you don't find it adorable."

"Don't worry," Rachel assures her. "I won't."

"Good. Because we're here."

The moment the car is off, Santana is hoping out and opening Rachel's door for her. "M'lady."

Giggling, Rachel steps out. "Thank you."

"Anything for you babe, you know that."

Rachel stops their stroll towards the front door. She pulls Santana into a soft kiss. "I do," she says when she pulls away. "It's one of the many reasons I love you."

Santana smiles brightly. She never gets tired of hearing Rachel say that. "I love you too."

"All right you two. Stop giving the neighbors a show and get in here."

Groaning, Santana replies, "We're coming mom."

"At least I get to sleep over, right?"

Santana nods. "Thank goodness for small favors." She offers Rachel her arm. "Shall we?"

Nodding Rachel accepts. "We shall."

Songs
--Santana's song is "Song to You" by Leon Thomas III
--Rachel's first song is "All That Jazz" from Chicago
--Puck's song is "Last Christmas by Wham
--Rachel and Puck's first duet is "You Don't Bring Me Flowers" by Barbra Streisand and Neil Diamond
--Rachel's second song is "Being Alive from Company
--Rachel and Puck's second duet is "Under Pressure by Queen and David Bowe
--"Live and Let Die" is by Paul McCartney and Wings
--"My Heart Will Go On" is by Celine Dion
--"Without Me" is by Eminem
--"Come Sail Away" is by Styx

fic: Chains and Wedges

2012-09-02T22:50:28Z

Title: Chains and Wedges
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, Artie, Figgins, OCs, Brittany/Marisa, Puck, Mike/Wendy, Emma/Jack, Tina, Missy, Quinn, Kurt, Mercedes, Finn, Will
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Rachel's pranks are getting bigger and people are starting to notice.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~4,650
Spoilers: None
A/N: Follows Just Be Grateful. Song is Visit the Moon from Sesame Street. Thanks to bradstev on ff.net for the prank idea, sort of.
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.

series masterlist

If you don't want to be locked inside McKinley today, do not go. If you do, be prepared. It could be a long wait.

Looking at her cell phone, Santana has to wonder if maybe Rachel isn't being as cautious as she claims to be. If she was, would she be pulling such a big prank at the moment? Not to mention, Santana's willing to be bet this warning went out to a lot of people.

It does explain why they're not driving to school together today. Funny enough, Santana had been glad, since there's something she needs to do this morning without Rachel knowing. She spends the drive to Brittany's house worrying.

"Hey San," Brittany greets as she climbs into the car.

"Hey B," Santana says.

"What's wrong?"

"Didn't you get a text from the prankster this morning?"

Brittany nods. "I made sure my phone is fully charged. You know how long it takes them to figure things out."

"She's going to get caught."

"The argument could be made that she's already been caught," Brittany counters. "After all didn't Mike and Artie already figure it out? And technically, Finn?"

Santana groans. "Don't remind me."

"You shouldn't stress yourself out about it so much, San," Brittany continues. "Whatever happens, we'll deal with it."

"What if she gets expelled?" Santana asks.

"Then we'll deal with it," Brittany replies. "It'll be okay."

Santana sighs. "Fine. I'll try not to worry. But you'll have to remind me. A lot."

"Can do, S."

…

Rachel finds Mike waiting for her when she arrives at her locker.

"Morning Mike," she greets.

"Are you sure this is such a good idea?" he asks, holding up his cell phone.

"Am I sure that what is a good idea?"

"I got a text from the prankster, this morning," he says lowering his voice.

"Oh. That."

"Yes that."

"It'll be fine, Mike," Rachel assures him. "Everything's set and it should go off without a hitch."

"I admire the guts this takes, Rach," Mike says. "But if Artie and I were able to figure it out, what's to stop more people?"

"For that to happen," Rachel replies. "People would have to see me as something besides the loser glee captain, don't you think?"

"I guess."

"I know I'm taking some risks here, Mike," Rachel tells him. "But isn't that the point?"

"I just hope you know what you're doing."

…

Santana heads straight for the music room when she arrives at McKinley, separating from Brittany who heads towards her locker.

To Santana's relief, Tom Mercer is sitting at the piano, apparently writing a song. She clears her throat as she approaches him.

He turns slightly and looks surprised to find her standing there; she doesn't blame him. She feels odd too.

"Hey, Tom," she starts. "I don't know if you remember me? Santana Lopez? Rachel's girlfriend?"

"I know who you are, Santana," Tom replies, wryly. "What can I do for you?"

"I know we're not like friends exactly, but I was kinda hoping you could teach me to play the piano?"

"Uh, wouldn't a piano teacher be more appropriate?" Tom asks.

"Normally, yes," Santana answers. "But I want to sing a song to Rachel for her birthday and I thought playing the piano myself as well might be a nice touch. So I was hoping you could help me learn it?"

Tom sighs. "Why did it have to be a romantic gesture?"

"I'm sorry?"

"It's just that if I say no, Beatrice will yell at me for blocking the romance," Tom explains.

"I won't be telling anyone if you say no," Santana tells him.

"No, it's fine," Tom says. "Let me see the song before I decide anything."

Santana nods. She digs in her backpack for a moment before handing him some sheet music.

He sits back down and begins to slowly play the song.

Tom plays the song a bit slower than tempo as he reads it for the first time. Nonetheless, Santana can't help but quietly sing the words. Having just decided to play as well as sing, she already has the song memorized.

"Nice choice," Tom says once he finishes playing. "All right. I think I can teach you this. Though isn't Rachel's birthday in like two weeks?"

"Yeah," Santana replies. "I know, but I just thought of the idea a couple days ago. And it's not like we're starting completely from scratch."

"I can only do this before school though," Tom says. "Too much going on after."

"Me too," Santana replies. "That's just fine. Tomorrow?"

Tom pulls out his cell phone and checks the time. "We've got some time now. How about I show you something quick that you can work on? With only two weeks, we might as well start now."

Santana joins him on the bench. "Thanks a lot, Tom. I owe you."

…

According to Rachel, a little after second period begins is the perfect time to lock all the doors. Most of the smokers have gone in and because it's the first week of December, P.E. classes happen inside the gym.

Since McKinley hasn't changed it's period times for over two decades, Billy knows for sure that second period is well underway. He sends a text to his brothers and then quickly begins looping the chain around the door handles. He snaps the padlock and steps back to admire his work. He then grabs the bucket of tools, chains and locks that's at his feet and rushes to the front door. That is the one that's going to need the most reinforcing.

…

Something feels off to Principal Figgins. Sitting at his desk, Figgins can't help but feel nervous. He slowly stands. He listens. Nothing sounds out of the ordinary. He decides to take a walk around. Just in case.

…

Santana doesn't really pay attention in first or second period, instead going over what Tom told her about playing the piano. Her being glee will certainly help, but she's still worried. She wishes she'd come up with the idea a few weeks earlier. Despite the confidence she had when talking with Tom, Santana's not really sure if she can learn the song in two weeks.

…

When Figgins reaches the front door, he sees movement in one of the windows. It looks like people running away. Jogging towards the door, he pushes it harshly, intending to call after them, but instead he slams into an unmoving door and stumbles backwards.

"Son of a bitch," he grumbles, rubbing his forehead.

He steps forward slowly and pushes against the door. It gives a little, maybe an inch or two, before it stops. He does the same with the other door. It responds the same.

It seems that his uneasy feeling was correct. He takes off down the hall towards the other entrance.

…

Rachel's phone buzzes near the end of second period. She discretely reads the text.

It's done.

Smiling to herself, she puts her phone away and waits for the entertainment to begin.

…

After rushing to each door and finding it locked from the outside, Figgins lets himself have a moment of pure frustration, shaking the locked door until his ears are ringing from the metal clacking; after making sure he's alone first, of course.

Walking back to his office, he begins to outline a strategy. It might be possible to get the entire situation figured out without alerting the students. It could be his small victory against the prankster.

…

Rachel gets dragged to the choir room for lunch by Mike of all people.

"Don’t you want to hear all the prankster speculation?" he asks.

"Not really," Rachel replies. "It's never anything new."

"Well maybe today will be different."

…

Not knowing exactly how the door is locked, Figgins isn't sure at first who to call. His first instinct is a locksmith, but he has a feeling, it won't be that easy. What he really needs is for someone to just look at it and assess.

…

"Please don't take this the wrong way," Jack says. "But you seem more nervous than usual."

Emma looks at Jack in surprise. She thought she was hiding her anxiety well, apparently not. Then again, she and Jack have really gotten to know each other.

"Oh, I received a text this morning from the prankster," Emma explains. "But how did you know I was worried about something?"

"You fidget a bit more and you're slightly easier to distract."

"Oh."

Emma supposes she shouldn't be surprised since she and Jack have been having lunch together every day, usually in her office because it seems the safest. Emma occasionally worries that she's stopping Jack from getting to know the other faculty, but Jack assures her it's fine.

"Should I be worried?" Jack asks. "What ridiculousness is going to occur today?"

The knock on Emma's door happens before she can answer.

It's one of the office aids. Emma is pretty sure his name is Jeremy. He hands Jack a note and leaves without a word.

Jack opens the note and quickly scans it.

"It says we're locked in," he tells her. "But I have a feeling that you already knew that."

Emma nods.

"Figgins wants to keep the students in the dark as long as possible," Jack continues.

Still nodding, Emma says, "Makes sense. He's probably getting sick of the prankster continuously outsmarting us."

"You've never told anyone that the prankster warns you?"

"Uh, well one person knows," Emma replies. "But we don't really talk about it anymore."

"Oh?"

"Will Schuester? He's the glee club advisor? He and I used to both get warnings. But when this school year started, I got one and he didn't. We haven't really talked about what it means."

"Why not?"

"I'm not sure," Emma replies. "I mean, I know I don't want to have that conversation, but I'm not entirely sure why Will hasn't brought it up."

"Well I appreciate you extending the warnings to me as well," Jack says.

"I just wanted to make sure your time here doesn't scar you too much."

"You," Jack says. "Are adorably sweet."

Emma tries not to blush as she smiles her thanks.

…

It takes a lot of effort, but Figgins is finally able to convince Mitch, one of the janitors to go up to the roof and climb down to take a look at the door situation. It takes the promise of a two hundred dollar bonus stated on two separate cell phone videos before he'll agree.

Making sure he has a fully charged cell phone, Tony, the head janitor sends him up to the roof with a rope ladder. Watching him go, Tony has to wonder why they even have a rope ladder in the first place.

…

When Rachel and Mike arrive in the choir room, the speculation has already begun.

"What if the prank is that we're not actually locked in," Mercedes says. "After all, I haven't heard anything. Have you guys?"

"Please," Puck says. "Figgins doesn't want us to know. He probably figures we'll freak out."

"Of course we would," Artie says. "Who wants to be stuck in this place any longer than we have to be?"

"Why would the prankster play a prank on us?" Brittany asks. "I mean, he always warns us."

"Has anyone actually tried to go outside?" Tina asks.

"I have," Quinn says. "Doors are definitely locked."

"Why were you trying to go outside?" Santana asks.

Quinn shrugs. "I was curious."

"How long do you think we'll be stuck here?" Kurt questions the room.

"Depends on when Figgins figured it out," Santana replies.

"And how the doors are locked," Puck adds.

"I hope the prankster just glued all the doors shut," Brittany throws out.

Everyone stares at her in horror.

"That means we could be stuck in here for days," Kurt exclaims.

"Relax Hummel," Santana says. "I doubt the prankster glued the doors shut."

"Yeah," Mike adds. "He'd be stuck in here for days too."

"Unless he's not here today," Mercedes says. "What if he's just sitting outside laughing at us?"

"Does that mean you finally believe me when I say it's not me?" Santana asks Mercedes.

"Uh… I don't know."

"It's honest at least," Mike says.

"Who cares who it is?" Brittany questions. "As long as we keep getting warnings?"

"That's very pragmatic of you, Brittany," Rachel says.

"Thanks Rach." She grins widely. "Wait. That's good right?"

"Yes, Britt, that's good."

"Okay. Thanks."

…

By the end of lunch, it's all over the school that they're all locked in. A few of the burn outs had tried to sneak outside for a smoke, only to find all the doors blocked. Because of their annoyance, it doesn't take long for the information to get around.

…

Mitch goes to the front door first. He figures it's the most logical place to start. Looking at it, he can't help but sigh. He sees at least three thick locks attached to chains that are wrapped around the handles. Glancing at the door frame, he sees at least a dozen wedges fully stuck in between the door and the frame. The only space not taken up by the wooden wedges is instead taken up by the hinges.

He pulls out his cell phone and calls Tony. He explains the situation with as many details as possible. He then takes several pictures which he also sends to Tony. He then sits on the steps and waits for further instructions.

…

Marisa pokes her head into the choir room. She's surprised to see so many people inside. She waves shyly. "Hey guys."

"Hey," Brittany greets. "Where were you?"

"The whole school's buzzing about us being locked in," Marisa tells them. "But I guess you guys already knew that?"

"How does she know?" Kurt asks.

"About what?" Brittany asks.

"About us getting warnings," Mercedes says.

"Because I told her silly," Brittany says as she gets up and pulls Marisa into the room. "We are dating, after all."

Marisa feels herself blushing slightly. She thought most people know since she and Britt have been walking down the hall, holding hands for weeks.

"Why didn't I know that?" Kurt whispers loudly to Mercedes.

"Subtle, Hummel," Santana snickers.

Brittany sits and pulls Marisa into her lap.

"They're all over each other," Quinn says, sounding annoyed. "Like all the time. Why didn't you know that Kurt?"

"Too busy worrying about the damn prankster," Puck mutters.

"Or Q's gay panic," Santana mutters back.

"We can hear you guys," Kurt says.

"Whatever," Santana says. "Are we wrong?"

"Attention students."

Everyone looks up when Figgins' voice comes over the PA system.

"By now I'm sure everyone knows that we're locked inside the building. Please do no panic. The situation is being dealt with. Afternoon classes will continue as usual. We will update you when the problem has been fixed. Thank you for your cooperation."

The announcement is followed immediately by the bell. Everyone shuffles out of the choir room and heads towards their next class.

…

Since it seems like they have all the materials necessary to get the door open, Mitch is apparently going to take care of everything himself. He waits for the bucket to be lowered to the ground by Bob. Standing at the bottoms of the steps, just in case, he watches as Bob puts the bolt cutters in a white ten gallon bucket, ties some rope around the handle and then slowly drops the bucket to the ground.

Mitch takes out the bolt cutters and begins working on the locks. When they prove too thick for the bolt cutters, he decides to try the chains. They're not as thick and eventually by cutting the right links, the locks begin to fall onto the ground with a clank. He takes a few steps back, not wanting his feet to be crushed by the heavy looking locks.

The wedges are more difficult to deal with. They try a crowbar first. It mostly just cracks the wood, which unfortunately doesn't seem to loosen it. Next Mitch tries chiseling it, hoping that the force from the rubber mallet will push out the wedge better than the crowbar did. He ends up scraping the door frame more than anything else.

Bob suggests they use liquid Nitrogen on the wood and then it'll just shatter into pieces when it's hit. The only problem is they don't know where they can get liquid Nitrogen quickly or safely.

Following that line of thought, Mitch suggests fire. Tony immediately vetoes it as being too dangerous. However, after brainstorming for another twenty minutes, no other idea comes to mind, so Tony talks to Principal Figgins about it.

Seeing no other options, Figgins okays the project.

They start by covering the wedges with a tarp. Mitch then wets down everything around the wedges, including the ground to help deter the fire. He is then given two fire extinguisher, which he prepares for quick use; he loosens the pin and raises the hose. Next, he removes the tarp and soaks the wood and only the wood with lighter fluid. He's extremely careful to only get the lighter fluid on the wood.

The final things to be sent down in the bucket is a lighter used for grills and campfires as well as protective gloves for Mitch. Both Bob and Tony are also standing on the roof directly above the door ready with a hose, just in case.

With shaking hands, Mitch begins lighting the wedges. He starts at the bottom, figuring the fire will rise on its own. He's correct, the fire quickly rises and almost immediately he's using the extinguisher on the now ash wedges, just in case. Once the top one is burnt enough to crack easily, Mitch sprays it with the extinguisher. He then sprays everything surrounding it down as well just in case.

Hearing applause above him, Mitch looks up to find Tony and Bob clapping.

"Not bad," Tony says.

Mitch gives a mock half bow before trying the door. It opens easily.

…

The school day is almost over. Since the whole school now knows they're locked in, fewer than normal are staring at the clock, willing the day to be over. No one has faith that Figgins will figure out a way for them to get out before the school day is over. Even the teachers seem even more unenthusiastic than usual.

Therefore, everyone is surprised when the PA system crackles on.

"Attention, this is Principal Figgins. The doors have been unlocked. Please resume your regular schedule once class is over. Thank you."

Most classrooms erupt in cheering and clapping. Everyone enjoys seeing how the prankster seems to baffle the administration, especially when that involves school being canceled. However, this prank of forcing them to stay longer hasn't been one of their favorites.

The announcement also takes all focus from the student body and most teachers don't even bother trying to continue their lessons.

…

"They figured it out quicker than usual," Santana comments to Rachel that evening over the phone. She's just finished dinner and is supposed to be studying for her history test.

"Well, they did have like six hours," Rachel replies. "And really, it's not like the locks were elaborate or complicated."

"Just the one on the front door?"

"I knew that whoever would head there first and I wanted it to be a challenge. If they'd gone to the gymnasium door, they would have just found chains and locks."

"So you're saying it's their fault for being so predictable?"

"Exactly."

"I still think you've been taking a lot of chances lately, babe," Santana says.

Rachel sighs. "Isn't that the point?"

"Technically, I guess."

"And it's been over a year," Rachel continues. "I haven't been caught yet."

"Yeah, but people are starting to figure things out."

"Artie, Tina and Mike don't count," Rachel says.

"I'll be sure to tell them that."

"That's not what I meant and you know it," Rachel replies.

It's Santana's turn to sigh. "I just worry about you, babe. Sometimes I think you don't give people enough credit."

"Because most of them haven't earned it," Rachel says. "But I appreciate the worrying."

"So you'll think about maybe slowing down a bit?"

"I promise to think about it," Rachel replies.

…

Rachel finds Artie at his locker Tuesday morning.

"Good morning, Artie."

"Hey Rachel," Artie replies. "You're in a good mood."

"Well, we're still singing our duet this afternoon, right?"

Artie nods. "I was planning on it."

"Well, then that explains why I'm in such a good mood. Right?"

Artie smirks. He has a feeling, Rachel's exuberance has more to do with the success of yesterday's prank, but that's not really something he can say out loud in the halls. "That it does."

"Good. Do you maybe want to practice one more time during lunch?" Rachel asks.

"Sounds like a plan."

"I'll meet you in the auditorium then?"

"See you then, Rach."

…

Missy's being too quiet for Wendy's liking. When her best friend doesn't spend the lunch hour chatting, Wendy knows she's scheming. And while Wendy has no idea what she's contemplating, she doesn't have a good feeling about it.

"I'm not participating in anything involving Rachel Berry or Mike, anymore," Wendy blurts out.

Missy blinks at her a few times, apparently having been deep in thought. "Um, all right."

"I mean, I know we initially asked Mike out as some sort of plan related to getting Rachel, but I was never comfortable with that."

Missy sighs.

"And Mike and I are having a good time together. He graduates in June, so I don't see it going anywhere serious, but it's still fun."

"You seem happy," Missy says.

"I am."

"Fine," Missy says. "I'll come up with another plan."

"I don't see why you can't just drop it."

"I don't know either," Missy replies.

"Maybe you should talk to Ms. Pillsbury about it," Wendy suggests.

Missy lets out a bark of laughter, causing Wendy to jump. "That's not something I want to talk to anyone about, much less a guidance counselor, especially her. She'd probably faint from shock and awkwardness. And then when she woke up, she'd have to report me for sexual harassment or something."

Wendy shrugs. "It was just a suggestion. I mean, you really need to let this whole thing go. Don't you think?"

Missy doesn’t answer.

…

"So Artie tells me that he and Rachel have prepared a duet for us today," Mr. Schuester says once everyone's settled. "So I'll just hand the floor over to them."

Brittany raises her hand. "Why do you need to hand it to them? Are we supposed to be walking on our hands now?"

Mr. Schuester is the only one that looks at her oddly. Rachel and Artie make their way to the front of the room. Rachel grabs a chair and sits next to Artie.

Everyone's surprised when Rachel doesn't introduce the song with a small speech. Instead, she simply nods to Artie who begins playing his guitar. It's one of the few times they've seen him play an acoustic guitar and not an electric.

After a very short intro, Artie begins singing.

Well I'd like to visit the moon,
On a rocket ship high in the air.
Yes, I'd like to visit the moon,
But I don't think I'd like to live there.

He continues to play as Rachel begins singing.

Though, I'd like to look down at the earth from above,
I would miss all the places and people I love
So although I might like it for one afternoon
I don't wanna live on the moon.

Rachel bows her head as Artie begins singing again.

I'd like to travel under sea,
I could meet all the fish everywhere
Yes, I'd travel under the sea,
But I don't think I'd like to live there.

Rachel begins singing as Artie begins playing more enthusiastically.

I might stay for a day there if I had my wish
But there's not much to do when your friends are all fish,
And an oyster and clam aren't real family,
So I don't wanna live in the sea.

Artie then joins Rachel as they both finish the song.

I'd like to visit the jungle, hear the lions roar,
Go back in time and meet a dinosaur,
There's so many strange places I'd like to be,
But none of them permanently.

So if I should visit the moon,
Well i'll dance on a moonbeam and then,
I will make a wish on a star and I'll wish I was home once again.

Though, I'd like to look down at the earth from above,
I would miss all the places and people I love
So although I may go,
I'll be coming home soon
Cause I don't want to live on the moon
No, I don't want to live on the moon.

Once Artie finishes the last note, they each give a small half bow. Everyone begins clapping.

"That was great you guys," Mr. Schue exclaims as Artie and Rachel make their way back to their seats. "Maybe this year, an intimate duet would be a good idea. Do something a bit different."

"I think that's an excellent idea, Mr. Shue," Rachel says.

"Of course you agree with him," Mercedes snips.

Turning slightly in her seat, Rachel says, "I'm not suggesting we use the duet Artie and I just did. However, I do feel the sentiment is correct. Two people on stage, playing their own music and singing isn't the usual. I think it would be an excellent second song in our set."

Santana, sitting in the back row next to Brittany, chuckles.

"That gives me an excellent idea for an assignment," Mr. Schue interrupts. "Who here can play an instrument?" He walks to the board and turns around. He writes down, Artie, Puck, Rachel, Finn, and Quinn. "Okay, so I want everyone to pair up. Make sure one of you can play an instrument and pick out a song that works well acoustically."

"Uh, Mr. Schue?" Finn raises his hand.

"Yes Finn?"

"I'm not sure me just playing the drums is what you're looking for."

"It's not the first thing that springs to mind," Mr. Schue agrees. "But that'll be a fun challenge for you and your partner."

Finn nods looking worried.

…

"Do you think Rachel would be open to pulling a prank with me?" Artie asks Tina as he drives her home.

"I don't see why not," Tina replies. "Not too long ago, I didn't think Rachel would even do a duet with someone."

"Well, she's used to sharing the stage with other people."

"I'm sure Puck has pulled pranks with her," Tina says. "He wouldn't take no for an answer."

"That's for sure," Artie agrees.

"I bet if you went to her with an idea and it was plausible, she'd go for it," Tina tells him.

"It would definitely be better to already have an idea handy," Artie replies. "If anything, coming up with something she hadn't even considered, means she'd probably be more likely to agree."

"Exactly."

"We should come up with something together," Artie continues.

"I don't know," Tina says. "Gluing the quarters down was… interesting, but I'm not sure I'm up for the elaborateness that Rachel's pranks have become."

"But that's half the fun," Artie says.

"I guess I just wasn't meant for all that, then," Tina tells him.

Artie pulls up in front of Tina's house.

"Well, I'm going to come up with something awesome and change your mind," he says.

"Good luck with that," Tina replies climbing out of the vehicle. "Thanks for the ride."

"Can I at least bounce ideas off you later?" Artie calls after her.

"Probably," Tina says, half shrugging.

"Awesome. See you tomorrow."

Artie gives a half wave, rolls up his window and pulls out of the driveway. Driving home, he begins to brainstorm.

fic: Just Be Grateful

2012-09-02T22:45:40Z

Title: Just Be Grateful
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, Puck, Artie, Mike, Brittany/Marisa, Quinn/Alyson, Felicia Lopez, Felix Lopez, Tomás Lopez, Clara Lopez, Tyler Lawson, Calvin Lawson
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It's the night before Thanksgiving.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~5,475
Spoilers: None.
A/N: Follows A Waste of Twenty Dollars.
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.

series masterlist

Rachel is pulling books of her locker for her Wednesday morning classes when the quiet of the morning is interrupted by Noah's exuberant arrival.

"Yo bro."

"Noah."

"We're hanging out tonight," he tells her.

"We are?" Rachel asks. "Did we make plans and I forgot?

"No, but I've decided we have to participate in the holiday."

"Thanksgiving is tomorrow Noah," Rachel says.

"Not Thanksgiving, Rach," Noah replies. "Tonight is considered the biggest drinking night of the year."

"It is?"

Noah nods. "It is. And so we're participating."

"So you and I are going to sit on my couch and drink?" Rachel asks. "How is that any different than any other Friday night?"

"Well, for one thing, it's Wednesday. And because that's not what we're going to do," Noah tells her. "You, me, Mike and Artie are hanging. Artie's driving."

"And doing what?"

Noah shrugs. "We'll figure it out. Who cares?"

"Uh, I do."

"Too bad bro. We're picking you up at six. Be ready to party."

Before Rachel can respond, Noah has already fled down the hallway.

…

"So Rachy's coming to Thanksgiving dinner with your family," Brittany says.

"Yeah," Santana replies. "I'm not sure who's more nervous."

"I don't know why Berry's nervous," Quinn says. "Your family loves her. Aren't you always complaining that they like her better?"

"Yes. Thank you for reminding me. Bitch."

Quinn just rolls her eyes.

The three of them are currently sitting alone at a lunch table. Quinn's surprised that Rachel isn't there, hanging off Santana or that her little friend isn't there shyly pressed against Brittany.

"So is she spending the weekend?" Brittany asks.

Santana shakes her head. "No. Since my Nana is staying with us, I don't think Rach is comfortable spending the night."

"I don't know why," Quinn says. "You guys do it at school all the time. If she doesn't care about getting caught here…"

"Apparently my family is different."

"And she doesn't want to do anything to upset the favored position she has with your parents," Brittany adds. "You know she worries about them eventually hating her."

"Oh please," Santana says. "If we broke up again, they would totally side with her."

Quinn snickers.

"What?"

"I just find it hilarious that your family picked Rachel Berry over you."

"So Quinn," Brittany interrupts before Santana starts snipping at Quinn. "Is Alyson coming back for Thanksgiving?"

"She is."

"Are you going to see her?"

"We're planning on it," Quinn replies.

"Oooh, gonna meet the family, Q?" Santana asks.

"No," Quinn says, sullen. "Besides, I've already met her brother and sister. They're the important ones, right?"

"Well since they know about the relationship, I'd say yes," Rachel answers, sitting across from them.

"Berry."

"Hey babe."

"Hi Rachy."

"So you and Alyson are hanging out this weekend, right?" Rachel asks.

"Yeah. Aly said you told her we could use your house if need be," Quinn replies.

"You did?" Santana asks.

Rachel nods. "Of course. Just let me know that you're there. I'd rather not be surprised by anyone--or anything."

"Too bad," Brittany says. "I bet they're totally hot together."

Quinn feels a blush starting and looks down at her food.

Rachel just shakes her head as Santana lets out a loud chuckle.

"Plus," Brittany continues. "I bet Alyson has a lot of stamina. Soccer looks totally exhausting, all that running. I bet she lasts pretty long, so it'll probably end up being a marathon of--"

"Please don’t finish that sentence, B," Quinn chokes out, her face bright red.

"Don't be embarrassed, Q," Brittany replies. "We're all happy that you're happy."

"She's right Quinn," Rachel adds.

Quinn just nods.

Santana groans. "God, can we just eat and stop this mush fest?"

Rachel leans across the table and kisses Santana lightly. "Whatever you say, tiger."

…

"I can't believe Coach Sylvester canceled practice this afternoon," Rachel says lounging on her bed.

"She said something about turkeys and catapults," Santana says, not lifting her head from Rachel's lap. "I didn't really pay attention."

"Oh, I thought maybe she might have been getting into the holiday spirit."

"As if," Santana replies. "Either way, I'm not complaining."

"When do you have to home?"

"Five," Santana grumbles.

"I'll be over bright and early tomorrow morning, San," Rachel tells her. "It's just one night."

"I don't see why you can't spend the night," Santana replies. "It's not like I'm going to make a move with my Nana there."

"I just don't feel comfortable spending the night right after meeting her," Rachel answers. "I mean, she's your dad's mom. She's…"

"She's just a woman," Santana says. "Just because she changed his diapers, doesn't mean anything."

"I've never really had any experience with grandparents, San," Rachel replies. "And I already feel like a burden being invited over for your family's Thanksgiving dinner."

"You're my family too, Rach," Santana tells her. "Mom is ecstatic that you're coming. You're like the daughter she always wanted."

"You know that's not true, Santana."

"Yeah, well maybe. Maybe not," Santana replies. "But it's certainly how she acts."

"Perhaps she's just happy that you're finally being true to yourself."

Santana shrugs. "Maybe."

"You're sure I can't bring anything tomorrow?" Rachel asks.

"Absolutely," Santana replies. "Just your cute self. There's always enough food to a small country. If anything, your presence will help lessen some of the leftovers later."

"Well, if you're sure."

"If I was you," Santana says. "I'd stop worrying so much about meeting my family and worry more about what Puck has in store for you tonight."

"Nothing I can't handle," Rachel relies. "Plus Mike and Artie are going to be there too. It'll be fine."

"Really?" Santana asks. "Because their presence worries me more. What if he wants to pull a jewel heist?"

"A jewel heist? Really Santana?"

Santana shrugs the best she can lying down. "Who know how that boy's mind works? Or if it even works?"

"It's Lima," Rachel tells her. "How much trouble could we really get into anyway?"

"If memory serves correctly, the two of you together, can find plenty."

"Awww, don't be jealous, San," Rachel says. "You're still my favorite person to make trouble with."

"Any kind of trouble?"

Rachel nods.

"How about naked trouble?"

Rachel just smirks and leans in for a kiss.

…

Rachel's thankful that Noah actually knocks on her door. She'd been so afraid that he'd make Artie honk his horn to announce their presence. Though he knows she hates it, he has been known to forget in the throes of excitement.

Stepping outside, she can't help but laugh. Noah is standing next to Artie's Durango, holding the passenger door open for her.

"Evening, m'lady," he says dramatically. "Your chariot awaits."

Rachel curtseys and gracefully accepts his help inside the vehicle. Once the door is gently, but firmly shut, he runs around to the other side and climbs into the seat behind Artie.

"Hey Rach," Mike says from the back.

"Hi Mike. Artie."

"Hey Rachel."

"Let's get this party started," Noah says as he slams his own door shut.

"Where to?" Artie asks.

"Who cares? Let's just go," Noah replies.

Artie shakes his head and begins reversing out of the driveway.

…

"You don't have to look like we're torturing you, dear," Clara tells Santana as they eat dinner.

"Sorry mom."

Tomás chuckles. "You saw that girl less than two hours ago, San. Stop pouting."

"I'm not pouting."

"So I'm finally going to meet this girl that has you wrapped around her little finger tomorrow?" Felicia asks.

"She doesn't have me wrapped around her little finger, Nana," Santana grumbles.

"Yeah she does," Felix pipes up.

Santana kicks him under the table.

"Children, don't fight," Clara scolds. "And Santana answer your grandmother."

"Yes, Nana," Santana replies. "Rachel's coming over tomorrow."

"And Santana's nervous," Felix sing songs.

This time, Santana punches him in the arm.

"Ow!"

"Maybe you two shouldn't sit next to each other," Tomás suggests, looking amused.

"It was mom's idea," Felix says, rubbing his arm.

…

"So not that this isn't exciting," Rachel says. "Because it's not. But what are we doing?"

"We're being young and random," Puck says from the backseat. He's currently drinking a beer he pulled out of a cooler that's sitting between him and Mike. He's the only one drinking.

"Wasting gas you mean," Rachel counters.

"Personally, I was hoping all the scenery would give us an idea for a prank," Puck says.

This is met with silence.

"What?" Puck asks. "Everyone in the car knows it's Rach. So why pretend? Instead, I think we should take advantage of the situation and do something awesome."

"How does Artie know?" Mike asks.

"How do you know?" Artie asks back.

"I figured it out."

"Me too."

"Yes, you're both super sleuths," Puck says. "But do either of you have any ideas?"

No one responds.

"I mean, gluing quarters down was…ridiculous," Puck continues. "But we need to do something more, something bigger."

"I thought it was funny," Artie grumbles.

"That was you?" Mike asks.

"It was."

"Well that explains why it didn't feel like a Rachel prank," Mike says.

…

"Your brothers are being exceptionally quiet," Brittany tells Marisa.

"I think they have a crush on you, so they're behaving," Marisa whispers back.

"Awww."

Brittany and Marisa are curled up on the couch while Marisa's little brothers, Tyler and Calvin play video games.

Mrs. Lawson is working late tonight, so she can be home for Thanksgiving. Since they won't be seeing each other until Saturday, Brittany is helping Marisa watch her little brothers. She doesn't mind, since it's not the first time. Mrs. Lawson works a lot as a single parent and Marisa ends up watching the twins quite often. Instead of fighting it, Brittany just hangs out at the Lawson home. Mrs. Lawson doesn't seem to mind.

Marisa lightly elbows Brittany. "Like you don't have enough admirers as it is."

"You're the only one that matters though."

"Keep it down," Tyler throws over his shoulder.

"Yeah," Calvin adds. "All that mush is distracting."

"And gross."

"You're just jealous that my girlfriend is hotter than any girl you'll ever get," Marisa tells them.

"Whatever sis," Calvin says.

"Besides, we're gonna be totally awesome in high school," Tyler adds. "We'll have girls falling all over us."

"Because of your awesome video game playing skills?" Marisa mocks.

"How's that theater thing going for you, sis?" Tyler asks. "Popular yet?"

"You know I don't care about that stuff," she retorts.

"Uh huh," Calvin says. "Aren't you dating a hot blonde cheerleader?"

"Not to be popular," Marisa argues.

"Whatever sis," Calvin says.

"Yeah, whatever you say, sis," Tyler adds.

Smirking, Brittany draws Marisa's attention with a kiss.

…

"How is leaving dummies hanging from nooses off the football goal posts a good prank?" Artie asks as he holds the ladder steady.

Puck half shrugs from the top of the ladder. "My bro knows how to make 'em. Made sense when I thought of it."

"It's completely ridiculous," Rachel adds. She's standing on the other side of the goal post holding a ladder for Mike who is also hanging a dummy.

"I didn't hear you guys come up with anything better," Puck retorts.

"Because we weren't trying," Rachel argues.

"Boring! This is our senior year, guys," Puck tells them. "We gotta do stuff, try something new."

"I think Artie's Durango is something new," Mike says, slowly climbing down the ladder. "It's certainly impressive."

"Thanks Mike."

…

Santana is doing the dishes. She mostly offered to be alone. She's really not in the mood to deal with her family's ribbing right now. She wishes she knew why she's so nervous about tomorrow. Her parents and even her stupid brother love Rachel, so surely the rest of her relatives will be the same.

Maybe it's the seriousness of the implications behind Rachel meeting her family. Sometimes, Santana feels like she and Rachel are already married; they certainly have some extremely domestic moments.

But instead of scaring her, which Santana supposes it should since she's only seventeen, the realization makes her want more with Rachel, want marriage and all the domesticity that comes with it.

And why wouldn't she? Santana knows how things would be. They'd both be driven, hard working women trying to carve out a place for themselves in the world, while supporting each other. If they can just get through college, they will totally be kicking ass in New York; she knows it.

Santana finds it odd that the idea of marrying Rachel and spending the rest of her life with her doesn't make Santana nervous. It's the thought of relatives meeting Rachel and seeing them together. Because once they realize how hard Santana's fallen, there will be plenty of teasing, innuendo and jokes.

"You seem to be concentrating quite a lot for someone who's just washing dishes."

Santana looks over her shoulder to find her Nana standing behind her.

"Just thinking," Santana replies.

"About that girl of yours?"

"No," Santana blushes. "Just stuff."

"Uh huh," Felicia says. "I think it's sweet."

"I'm not sweet," Santana groans.

"You're in love. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"I'm not ashamed," Santana protests. "I'm just not in the mood for all the mocking from Felix. And papa."

"They do it out of love," Felicia says. "From what I hear, they're glad you've found someone so wonderful."

"Course," Santana replies. "Everyone in this family seems to like Rachel better than me."

Felicia chuckles. "Yes, your father mentioned that. You know he just enjoys your exasperation."

"Why? He's my dad, he should be nicer."

"Considering the fact that they let her sleep over in your bed, I'd say he's plenty nice."

"With the door open," Santana grumbles.

"You're still a teenager, Santana," Felicia says. "There have to be limits."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I don't need a lecture."

"Don't get snippy with me, young lady."

"Sorry Nana."

"I know you're nervous about tomorrow," Felicia says. "But things will work out."

"I know," Santana replies. "I just don't want Rach to get overwhelmed or uncomfortable or feel out of place or even--"

"Santana," Felica interrupts. "Everything will go fine. You'll be looking out for her and it'll be just fine. Besides, I'm sure your folks will keep an eye on her as well."

"Okay."

"Good," Felicia says. "Now that the dishes are done, you can come into the living room and update me on things."

…

"So how are things going with that weird little red head, Chang?" Puck asks as they drive around.

"Fine."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Really."

"Why wouldn't it be?" Artie asks.

"No reason," Mike says.

"Ah, come on, Mikey," Puck says, slurring Mike's name. "Tell 'im."

"Noah is being a jerk because Wendy and I have some history," Rachel tells Artie before Puck can continue.

"What does that mean?"

"It means that Mike's girlfriend totally made out with Rachel," Puck crows from the back.

"What?"

"During the summer, Wendy's best friend, Missy got it into her head that I should sleep with them," Rachel explains.

"Both of them?" Artie asks.

Rachel nods. "Yes."

"Life is so unfair," Artie says. "Why do you have Cheerios literally throwing themselves at you? And two at once?"

"Don't get that excited," Puck says. "Bro turned them down."

"I'm in love with Santana," Rachel replies.

"Still, dude, come on," Puck says, leaning forward. "Two hot chicks standing in front of you in just their underwear and you turn 'em down? You have impressive will power."

"They were in their underwear?" Artie asks.

Rachel blushes slightly. "Well, not the first time. But yes."

"Not the first time?" Artie exclaims. "So you had two Cheerios throwing themselves at you multiple times? God, life is just not fair."

"My sentiments exactly, Artie," Puck says.

"Wait a minute," Artie says. "But now you're dating one of them?"

Mike nods. "Britt said that Wendy actually had a crush on me before the whole Rachel chase things started. So when they both asked me out, I refused and just took out Wendy."

Artie groans. "They asked you out too? I'm done. I don't want to hear anymore of this story."

"It's less exciting than Puck's making it out to be," Mike says.

"Definitely," Rachel agrees. "The beer's making him very excitable."

"You don't have to talk about me like I'm not here," Puck grumbles.

…

"I'm sorry for being such a coward," Quinn tells Alyson.

"What makes you a coward?"

"Because I didn't invite you over," Quinn replies.

They're currently in the Berry guest room, cuddled together. Apparently when Alyson was visiting for Halloween, Rachel gave her a house key. The pair had met at Rachel's house and Alyson had let them inside.

It’s odd for Quinn to be in Rachel's house without her. She's not naive; she knows all these favors are more for Alyson than Quinn, but she appreciates it nonetheless.

"I didn't invite you over either," Alyson points out.

"Yeah, but you know for a fact that your parents will freak out," Quinn replies. "I don't know that. Not for sure."

"Even if you did know one way or the other," Alyson says. "I'm still not sure we're ready for the whole meet the parents thing."

"That's true."

"And we already have so little time to spend together," Alyson continues. "Do you really want to spend it making nice with your mom?"

Quinn shakes her head.

"Then I don't see the problem," Alyson says. "We get to spend time together. That's all that matters to me."

"Okay then."

"Good. Can we return to making out now?"

…

"Can we do something besides drive around?" Mike asks.

"Yeah," Artie agrees. "This is Lima. Even driving around is boring."

"They're right, Noah."

"Fine," Puck huffs. "Head to the movie theater."

"What movie are we seeing?" Artie asks.

"Wait and see."

…

"Time for bed," Marisa announces.

"No way," Tyler exclaims. "There's no school tomorrow."

"I know," Marisa replies. "Which is why mom said I could let you guys stay up an extra hour."

"You just want to make out with your girlfriend," Calvin accuses.

Marisa blushes. "That's not the reason."

"Not the only reason," Brittany adds.

Marisa elbows her. "You're not helping."

"I didn't realize I was supposed to," Brittany told her.

"We don’t wanna go to bed," Tyler protests. "And you can't make us."

"Guys, come on," Brittany tells them. "Technically you were supposed to go to bed a half hour ago."

"You just wanna make out with our sister," Calvin says.

"I don't need you guys to go to bed for that to happen," Brittany replies.

"What?" Tyler asks. "You'd kiss her in front of us?"

Brittany shrugs. "Why not?"

"Prove it," Tyler says.

"Uh guys?" Marisa tries to interrupt.

"You're serious?" Brittany asks Tyler.

They both nod.

Brittany grabs Marisa and pulls her into an embrace. Before she can protest, Brittany is kissing her. Marisa resists, not comfortable kissing in front of her brothers, but when Brittany brushes her tongue against Marisa's lips, she can't help but sign and let Brittany deepen the kiss. Marisa lets out a soft groan and relaxes, wrapping her arms around Brittany.

"Ewww," the twins exclaim. "Fine. You win. We're going."

Neither Brittany or Marisa respond.

Tyler turns off their game and follows Calvin upstairs to get ready for bed.

Five minutes later when they pull apart, both girls notice they're alone.

"Oh god, they're going to give me so much shit for this later," Marisa groans.

"They went to bed, didn't they?"

"Yeah, they went to bed," Marisa admits.

"You're welcome," Brittany smirks.

…

Rachel's surprised that the stairway to the roof of the movie theater is wide enough so Mike and Noah can carry Artie and his wheelchair up it. She's also surprised to find additional lawn chair waiting for them. Setting down the cooler, Rachel's glad she works out. A thirteen gallon cooler full of beer isn't the easier thing to carry up two flights of stairs.

As Mike moves the cooler closer to the lawn chairs, Noah disappears back downstairs. Knowing what he's getting Rachel sinks into a lawn chair and grabs a beer. She gestures for Mike to join her as she hands one to Artie.

"It's November," Artie says. "Why are we on the roof?"

Rachel shrugs. "You cold?"

"We have coats," Mike says. "And the alcohol helps."

"So this is what you guys do?" Artie asks. "Drive around and then hang out on the roof?"

"Not exactly," Rachel replies.

"I don't know why," Artie says. "But I was expecting more.

"No offense," Rachel says. "But why did you guys agree to this?"

Mike shrugs. "Didn't have anything planned and my mom is a bit crazy when she's preparing for a holiday. It's best to be out of the house as much as possible."

"I was curious," Artie says. "Plus Puck wouldn't let up. He was like, 'C'mon, it's the night before Thanksgiving. We gotta party like it's 1999.' And so I finally said yes, so he'd stop bugging me."

"He did not say, like it's 1999," Rachel says.

"He did," Artie nods.

"I did in fact say that bro," Noah says, suddenly appearing behind them. He has a five gallon bucket full of water balloons with him.

"Water balloons?" Artie questions.

Noah holds up the sling. "Why else would we be up here?"

"With you, Puckerman, it's anyone's guess," Mike says.

"Whatever, just hand me a beer."

…

Santana is channel surfing. She's not in the mood to go to bed yet, but there's nothing interesting on.

"Didn't think you'd still be up," Felix says, flopping onto the couch next to her.

Santana shrugs.

"What's Rachel up tonight?"

"She's hanging with the guys," Santana replies.

"Huh," Felix says. "Didn't expect that answer."

"I'm glad, sort of," Santana replies. "I hate that she's alone in that house so much. Even if Puckerman is pathetic, at least he's keeping her company."

"She's hanging out with your ex?" Felix asks. "That's not weird?"

Santana shrugs again. "We got over it. Besides, she's with Mike and Artie too."

"Those guys from glee?"

"Yeah."

"Weird."

When Santana finally settles on a channel, they lapse into silence.

"Why didn't you go with?" Felix asks, after a few minutes.

"Besides the fact that mom said I had to stay home tonight?" Santana answers. "Wasn't invited."

"Oh. Well, I'm sure that--"

"Just stop. I don't want to hear it. Rachel and Puck are friends. They hang out a lot. It's a thing. It's fine."

"Jeez, I know you're nervous about tomorrow, but you don't have to be such a bitch."

"Sorry," Santana grumbles.

"Relax. Everyone's gonna love Rachel. You should instead worry that they'll love her more than you."

"That's already true," Santana replies. "I'm used to it. Besides, my girl deserves as many people who love her as possible."

"Awww, that is so sweet little sister," Felix teases.

"Shut up."

…

When they finally run out of balloons, it's late and Rachel's feeling tipsy. She drank a bit more than usual out of nervousness. Mike and Artie seem buzzed as well. Noah is drunk. Enough so that Rachel's not sure how they're going to get Artie down the stairs.

"Artie," Rachel says. "Can I have your keys?"

"Uh, sure. Why?"

"I'll walk Noah down to the car and then I'll find someone to help you get down the stairs."

"You want some help, Rach?" Mike asks.

"I should be okay. Plus, I hate to leave Artie up here all by himself."

"All right. We'll be waiting."

"Come on, Noah," Rachel says, grabbing his arm and pulling him up.

"Why?"

"Time to go home, bro," Rachel tells him.

Noah chuckles. "You rhymed."

"I am very amusing, I know," Rachel says as she leads him towards the stairs.

Agonizingly slow, they make their way down the stairs and out of the movie theater. When they reach Artie's car, Rachel helps Noah inside. She buckles him in and puts the bucket between his legs.

"If you need to throw up, use the bucket," Rachel tells him. "Artie doesn't deserve you vomiting in his car. Right Noah?"

"You got it, bro," Noah slurs.

Back in the movie theater, it takes asking three different people for Rachel to find Jerry. After explaining the situation, he agrees to help.

Up on the roof, Mike explains to Jerry how they usually carry Artie before beginning the slow process of heading down. They make it down in one piece, though Jerry claims his hand is cramping up towards the end.

As thank you for helping out, Rachel gives him the rest of Noah's beer, which ends up only being about eight cans, but she figures it's better than nothing.

When they reach the car, they find that Noah has puked in the bucket and passed out. Rachel empties it and rinses it out best she can with the melted ice from the cooler. It still smells a bit, so they drive with the windows open.

"Why didn't you just leave it?" Artie asks as he maneuvers out of the parking lot.

"In case he wakes up and throws up again," Rachel answers.

"How much did he drink?" Mike asks.

"Too much," Rachel replies. "He's taking this senior year partying thing way too serious."

"We should fuck with him," Artie says.

"How?"

"I have a permanent marker in the glove box," Artie says. "I want to draw a mustache on him."

"That could be fun," Mike agrees.

"Okay," Rachel agrees. "But Mike has to help me get him into his room."

"Deal."

…

Checking the time on her cell phone, Alyson says, "I should go."

"What time is it?"

"12:15."

"Shit," Quinn exclaims. "My curfew's midnight."

"Are you going to be in trouble?" Alyson asks. "Where does your mom think you are, anyway?"

"Hanging out with Rachel, Brittany and Santana here," Quinn answers. "I figured it's only a half lie that way."

Alyson chuckles. "So you won't get in too much trouble?"

"Hopefully not," Quinn says as slides out of bed. "I'll just say I fell asleep and lost track of time." Finding Alyson's shirt on the floor, next to her, Quinn tosses it onto the bed.

"Thank," Alyson says. "Good. I'd hate for you to get in trouble." She pulls her jeans on. "Especially because of me."

"Totally worth it," Quinn tells her.

"Sweet talker."

"You think you can sneak away sometime Saturday?" Quinn asks. "I should be able to hang out whenever."

"I think so," Alyson replies. "We don't do much Saturdays. And I'll be leaving Sunday morning."

"I wish you could stay longer."

Alyson wraps her arms around Quinn. "Me too, baby. But I'll be back for Christmas. For two weeks. Rachel said I could stay here for the second week."

Quinn sighs.

"What?"

"I just can't handle how great Rachel's being about this," Quinn explains. "It's making my guilt about bullying her even worse."

"Rachel's forgiven you," Alyson replies. "If she didn't, she wouldn't have set us up."

"I know. But once in a while…"

"Maybe we should just be grateful. After all, isn't that what Thanksgiving is about?"

"Yeah. It is."

"So," Alyson says. "We'll just be glad we're getting to spend time together. Right?"

"Right."

"Good because I hate to think of you being sad," Alyson continues.

Quinn offers a small smile. "I'll call you tomorrow?"

"Sounds good," Alyson replies. "Do you want to go first? Since you're late?"

Quinn nods. She gives Alyson one more quick kiss before heading down the stairs and out the door.

Alyson waits until she hears Quinn's car drive away. She then waits three more minutes before making her exit as well.

…

Rachel and Mike try to be quiet as they half lead, half drag Noah into his house and up the stairs to his room. He's semi conscience and mumbling to himself, causing Rachel to worry that they're going to wake someone up.

To Rachel's relief, they make it to his room without being detected. They let Noah fall onto the bed. They roll him onto his side, so he doesn't drown in his own vomit if he does throw up. Rachel removes his boots as Mike digs around for a garbage can. He doesn't find one, but does manage to find Noah's football helmet. He figures it's better than nothing. He sets it next to the bed. Seeing this, Rachel just grins.

They tiptoe out of the house and manage to hold back their laughter until they're in Artie's Durango.

"Took you guys long enough," Artie says, quietly pulling out of the driveway. "I thought you'd been caught."

"So what if we had been?" Mike asks. "It's not like we were breaking and entering. If anything Mrs. Puckerman should be grateful we didn't leave his ass in his yard."

"It's too cold to do that, Mike," Rachel scolds.

"All the more reason she should be grateful."

"He should be grateful," Artie says.

"Don't worry," Rachel says. "He'll be sorry tomorrow when he wakes up."

"Thank you for getting rid of the bucket too," Artie says.

…

Rachel listens carefully when she gets home. She knows Quinn and Alyson have most likely gone home since it's after one and their cars aren't in the driveway, but she's too tired for surprises.

When she reaches her room, she finds a post-it stuck to the door.

Rach, Thanks so much. We'll probably be back Saturday. Maybe I'll see you then? Alyson

Smiling, Rachel removes the post-it from her door. Alyson can be such a sweetheart. Rachel's glad; Quinn deserves someone like that. She wonders if they realize part of the reason Rachel is okay with them using her house is because she feels guilty for the long distance relationship they have. Everyone once in a while, Rachel wonders if it would have better to find someone who didn't live in another state.

But then Rachel will see Alyson and Quinn together and stop questioning it.

Exhausted, Rachel climbs into bed. She'll probably end up sleeping later than normal, but she's okay with that. She know she'll most likely need all the sleep she can get. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.

…

When Puck wakes up, it's horrible. His mouth is dry, but still tastes like old sneakers, his head is pounding, yet he also feels dizzy and his whole body feels sore. He sniffs a couple times and realizes, he also smells horrible.

He cautiously opens one eye and sees that it's only eight. His windows are wide open and letting the sun in, which explains why he's awake. He also has to pee. Figuring he can get some aspirin, he decides to risk getting up.

It takes a great deal of effort, but he's eventually standing, though he feels really unstable. He feels unsteady as he makes his way to the bathroom, eyes half closed and leaning against the hallway wall.

He just barely gets the lid up before he starts pissing. Once finished, he lets the lid slam down and flushes the toilet. At the sink, he downs several glasses of water and digs in the medicine cabinet for aspirin.

He finds some and takes four with two more glasses of water. Glancing in the mirror, he does a triple take.

"Those fuckers," he grumbles and then flinches, since even his low mumblings are aggravating his headache.

The reflection in the mirror, besides having bloodshot eyes and looking hung over, also has permanent marker on it. He has a long curling mustache that goes the length of his cheeks. His forehead reads, mother fucking ball sack; while under each eye is the word, shit.

Staring at himself, he gets a bad feeling and lifts his shirt.

Yep, there's more. There's a hand print turkey on his stomach with a speech balloon that reads, Happy god damn Thanks-fucking-giving Bitches! There's a line that goes from his belly button to his right nipple then to his left nipple and back down to his belly button. His chest reads, I am a huge fucking drunk ass douchbag.

He looks at his arms and sees that they're covered with flowers, hearts, butterflies, trees and smiley faces.

Feeling exhausted and hung over, Puck sighs. He drinks more water and slumps back to his room. Knowing he won't be able to sleep with the sun streaming in, he closes the blinds and then grabs his trash can out of the corner and puts it by his bed, just in case. He unbuttons his jeans and lets them fall to the ground. He removes his shirt and tosses it without looking. He then falls onto his bed with a grunt.

He and Rachel are going to have to have a talk, but for now, all he wants to do is sleep.

fic: A Waste of Twenty Dollars

2012-09-02T22:41:06Z

Title: A Waste of Twenty Dollars
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, Artie, Brittany/Marisa, Tina, Puck, Quinn, Kurt, Mercedes, Mike/Wendy, Emma/Jack, Missy, Figgins
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Rachel’s assistance with his car, makes Artie question some things about Rachel.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~4,375
Spoilers: Very, very mild spoilers for Buffy the Vampire Slayer, e.g. if you’ve never seen the show. None for glee.
A/N: Follows Halloween
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.

series masterlist

Because of the massive Halloween explosion, school is canceled for the rest of the week. Puck considers this a triumphant, Rachel considers it a disappointment.

“We have the whole week off, bro,” he says as they hang out Tuesday. “How is that not awesome?”

“Because I take my education very seriously,” Rachel replies. “Our senior year is pivotal.”

“You’re just upset that it took so little for such a huge reaction, babe.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Rachel says.

“You’re worried that McKinley’s pathetic response to your prank means that continuing to pull pranks will result in more days off or other negative consequences,” Santana says.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rachel tells her, trying to keep the smirk off her face. Santana really does know her too well.

…

Rachel wonders what memo she missed that makes her house the hang out spot for the week. She’s not complaining, per say; it just takes her by surprise.

Santana shows up first at six, ready to go for a run. Rachel’s pleasantly surprised. They rarely work out together, well in the traditional sense. Mostly because they’re already so close to becoming one of those couples that it just seems to make sense to have separate workout routines. Apparently a week off from school is an exception.

Once they’re done, they take separate showers, only because Rachel is starving and wants to eat first. So Santana jumps in the shower first while Rachel eats a banana. Once Santana’s done, Rachel is next. They’re both in the kitchen; Santana at the table and Rachel just finishing making coffee, when Brittany shows up with Marisa shyly behind her.

Artie and Tina are next followed by Quinn and Rachel resigns herself to making more pancakes. She decides if this trend continues, other people are going to have to start bringing food.

…

When Artie arrives Wednesday morning, it’s obvious that he’s excited. He pulls Rachel aside.

“So I finally got a car,” he tells her.

“How exciting.”

“I need to make some adjustments to it so I can drive it independently,” he continues. “I was hoping you could help me.”

“Uh, Artie, I don’t really know that much about cars,” Rachel says.

“That’s okay,” Artie replies. “Because what really needs to be done are some physical alterations to the car itself. That’s what I was hoping you could help with.”

“Sure.”

“Maybe we could start today? After lunch?”

“Why not? Everyone’s just hanging out. If they want to watch us, they can.”

“Always have to have an audience, huh, Rach?” He grins widely at her, so she knows he’s joking.

“I just perform better that way,” she smirks back.

…

Puck, Artie and Rachel head over to Artie’s house, throwing Artie’s chair into Puck’s truck. Santana promises to keep everyone in line while they’re gone.

“What could they possibly get into in twenty minutes?” Rachel asks.

Santana shrugs. “B’s here. “

Rachel nods. “Fair enough.”

At Artie’s house, Puck parks next to a maroon Dodge Durango.

“Is that it?” Puck asks.

“Yeah,” Artie replies. “It’ll be easier to make the adjustments on a bigger vehicle.”

“Cool,” Puck says. He turns to Rachel. “Are you going to be able to drive that huge vehicle, tiny bro?”

Rachel barely holds back a snort of indignation. “Don’t call me that.” Artie hands her the keys and she climbs out. “Meet you guys back at the house.”

…

It’s a little surreal to Rachel as she and Artie work on making the Durango a little more accessible for Artie while the others do their own thing. Mike and Tina are half-heartedly helping, occasionally handing them the necessary tools or items. Noah is stretched out under a tree, sleeping. Brittany and Marisa are in the corner making out and Santana is stretched out under the same tree Noah, though watching Rachel intently.

Rachel feels bad. She knows Santana was looking forward to some alone time this week. Rachel feels the same way; possibly even more so since she knows that her relationship with Santana definitely has an expiration date. She’s been trying to get in as much quality time with Santana as possible, but senior year is crazy. Not to mention there seems to be so much more drama.

Everyone has to go home for dinner, except for Santana. Rachel and Artie agree to leave the Durango in the driveway, since they’re planning on working on it Thursday and Friday. They move it as far to one side as possible and Rachel puts a note on the fridge explaining the situations to her dads, on the off chance they might care.

…

“Do I even want to know how you got permission to spend the night, tonight?” Rachel asks Santana as they crawl into bed later.

“I just explained to mom that my girlfriend time was being eaten up by project time and friend hanging out time,” Santana explains. “And how I don’t want to get in the way of any of that.”

“Uh huh. And when that didn’t work?”

“I asked papa,” Santana admits.

“Well, we have almost twelve hours of alone time in front of us,” Rachel says. “Whatever should we do with it?”

…

“I gotta says guys, I’m impressed.”

“Thanks Puck,” Artie says.

It’s Friday afternoon and they’re all in Rachel’s driveway admiring the adjustments made to the Durango. Not only did they change the gas and brake from pedals to levers that Artie can easily use, they also took out the driver’s seat and added a lift so Artie can literally slide into the car.

“Well maybe slide isn’t the best word,” Rachel says. “Since the lift isn’t all that fast, but still. No more having to throw the chair somewhere else.”

“It’s pretty awesome,” Tina pipes up.

“Yeah, not to mention really fast,” Mike adds.

“Well you guys helped,” Artie tells them. “And since I already had all the plans drawn up and parts we needed that saved a lot of time too.”

“This means you have to give us all rides now,” Brittany says.

“A test drive is in order,” Artie says. “Who wants to come?”

Brittany’s hand shoots up as does Puck’s. Tina’s hand goes up at a regular pace, followed by Mike.

“Rachel gets the front seat, since she helped,” Artie tells them. “But if you guys want to squeeze in the back, go for it.”

Brittany offers to sit on Puck’s lap which he agrees to with a lecherous grin. But then Marisa tells Brittany that she rather she didn’t. So instead, Brittany sits in the middle and has Tina sit on her lap.

“No offense guys,” Quinn says as Rachel climbs into the front seat and Artie rolls himself onto the lift. “But I don’t see what the big deal is. Yes, the modifications are impressive, but other than that, it’s just an old car.”

“You’re just testy cause your girl went back to Pittsburgh,” Puck says.

“Noah,” Rachel chastises.

“Whatever Puckerman,” Quinn says. “I hope you drive over broken glass on the way home.”

Rolling her eyes, Rachel turns and watches the process of Artie getting into the vehicle. First he rolls himself backwards onto the lift. He then pushes a button that raises him to the proper level. The lift then spins ninety degrees so Artie is facing the right direction before sliding into the car and locking into place with a click.

Artie slips the key in and turns on the car. Everything seems to be running properly and so pulling the brake lever, Artie shifts into reverse and backs out of the driveway.

“No offense dude,” Puck says from the back seat. “But you do have your license, right?”

“You waited until we’re actually moving to ask that?” Mike asks.

“It just occurred to me,” Puck retorts.

“I do,” Artie replies.

“How?”

“Apparently the Columbus DMV has a car available to meet my needs,” Artie tells them. “It’s where I got the idea from. It’s probably not that easy for parents to find cars their kids can drive. And who wants to put forth all that effort, if your kid isn’t going to pass.”

“Makes sense.”

…

While Rachel’s grateful that Noah wants to have a laid back bro night, she’s not sure that catapulting water balloons is quite what she had in mind. They’re on the roof of the movie theater in ratty old plastic lawn chairs that were already on the roof when they arrived with a balloon launcher hooked between their chairs with a cooler of beers and balloons on the ground.

For once, it wasn’t Rachel pulling strings to get them on the roof; apparently the assistant manager, Jerry’s older brother used to go out with Noah’s mom. Rachel finds it amusing that Noah has an affinity towards older women, while his mom apparently has an affinity for younger men.

She comments on this after a six-pack.

“Don’t be gross, Rach,” Noah replies.

“I just find it intriguing, don’t you?”

“No,” he says. “Anything in relation to my mom dating does not get called intriguing. Okay?”

“Okay,” Rachel replies. “Sheesh. So sensitive.”

“There are just a few things that you don’t talk about. Ever,” Noah tells her. “And one of those is parents and sex. You should know that.”

“I suppose so,” Rachel says. “But I’m not asking about sex, I’m asking about dating. And remember, sex isn’t dating.”

“Hmph, whatever,” Noah replies. “I have no idea. She’s really only dated two guys I can remember. Barry, Jerry’s older brother—“

“Barry and Jerry? Really?”

Noah smirks. “Yeah, I know. And this other guy, Jason that she dated right after the divorce came through. I don’t know how old he was. I was like ten or something.”

“All right then.”

“And now we will never speak of this again. Right?” Noah asks.

“You got it, bro.”

…

“So this is the infamous car you’ve been working on all week,” Kurt says the backseat of the Durango.

“Yep,” Artie says, proudly. “I know it’s old, but it’s mine, so it’s awesome.”

“I just can’t believe you did all this yourself,” Mercedes adds.

“Well not really,” Artie says. “Rachel helped. And Mike and Tina.”

“Just a little,” Tina adds from the front seat.

“Huh.”

“You guys could have come over and help,” Artie continues.

“I didn’t think we’d be welcome,” Mercedes answers.

“Why not?” Tina asks.

“Because neither of us have the best history with Rachel,” Kurt replies.

“So?” Artie questions. “It’s not like Rachel holds a grudge.”

“Yeah,” Tina says. “Mike even brought that Cheerio he’s dating that has bad history with Rachel. And it was fine.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’m sure he asked first,” Tina continues.

“Maybe next time,” Mercedes says.

“You mean the next time school’s canceled for most of the week because of the prankster?” Artie asks.

“Yeah. Exactly.”

…

"This has been a weird week."

"I concur," Brittany replies.

She and Santana are sitting in Brittany's back yard stretched out on lawn chairs, drinking.

"How's it going with the kid?"

"It's going well, thanks," Brittany replies. "And you calling her the kid is mildly disturbing, don't you think?"

"Sorry," Santana says. "It's how I see her. Probably always will."

"You know she was never a threat, right?" Brittany asks. "Even last year, during those three weeks of insanity that was you two broken up."

Santana sighs.

"Fine," Brittany says. "We don't have to talk about it. But I am concerned about Rachel getting found out as the prankster."

"You too?"

"Well, Mike knows," Brittany continues. "And if he can figure it out…"

"What's to stop others, I agree. Rach is playing kinda fast and loose with this, don't you think?"

"I don't think I'd describe it quite like that," Brittany replies. "But her warning so many people is getting dangerous. Besides Becky and Ms. Pillsbury, Rachel also warned like ten other people."

"That's my girl," Santana smiles. "Too damn nice."

"You're not worried?" Brittany asks.

"Of course I am," Santana replies. "But there's nothing I can do. I certainly can't change her mind. Plus, I already tried."

Brittany chuckles. "Very true."

"So is it getting serious with the kid?"

"Seems a little soon to call it serious," Brittany replies. "It's only been two months. And I'm supposed to graduate this year."

"Don’t say it like that, like there’s any sort of doubt," Santana says. "We both know your GPA is much better than people think."

"Sorry. Habit."

"I wish we were going to college on the same coasts."

"Me too," Brittany agrees.

"Well at least I'll have Rach."

"You seem awfully sure you'll both get in," Brittany says.

"Are you doubting us?"

"I'm being realistic."

"Well I believe in us," Santana tells her.

…

Tina’s the last one that Artie drops off. He puts the car in park and turns to face Tina. “You know, I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Rachel was great at helping me modify this thing,” Artie says. “And I’ve seen her do some incredible things.”

“Like the Halifax Gibbet?” Tina asks.

“Exactly.”

“So?”

“So, she’s gotta be the prankster,” Artie says.

“Really?”

“Just think about it,” Artie continues. “It makes perfect sense. She’s a good planner. She can obviously build complex things, such as those crazy complicated pranks like a castle or all that crazy water balloon stuff last month.”

"I guess."

"Remember that it was Rachel's idea to break into school and play Nintendo."

"I do."

"And who else but Rachel would warn us?" Artie asks.

"Uh…"

"Exactly."

"Okay," Tina says. "So what?"

"So what?" Artie asks. "Don't you want to know?"

"Well sure, everyone in school wants to know who the prankster is," Tina replies.

"So I say we pull a prank of our own."

…

“So what’s the next prank going to be?” Noah asks as he drives back to Rachel’s house.

“I have no idea,” Rachel replies. “The last one was big. Maybe it’s time to lay off them for a little bit.”

“What? No! It’s senior year, Rach. It’s all or nothing. Go big or go home. Do it or lose it.”

“I’m not sure I’ve ever heard that last one,” Rachel says.

“Okay, so maybe I made that last one up, but the sentiments still the same.”

“Perhaps,” Rachel agrees. “But once again you’re using, the fact that it’s our senior year as an argument. Which I don’t approve of.”

“It’s how I’m planning my senior year,” Noah tells her.

“That’s absurd. And you don’t plan things.”

“Well, since we’re graduating, maybe I should start.”

“Then maybe you should plan the next prank,” Rachel replies.

“Really?” Noah asks, a little too eagerly.

“Um, yes?“

“Awesome.”

…

Instead of lying in bed all day and day dreaming about how well it’s going with Mike Chang, Wendy is currently sitting on her front step waiting for Missy to show up. She’s late, as usual and Wendy wonders why she even bothers being on time when she knows Missy won’t be. She never has been, their entire friendship, even when they kids.

Finally Missy pulls up, honking her horn as she does.

“Must you do that every time?” Wendy asks as she climbs into the car. “You knew damn well I was sitting outside waiting.”

“But it’s so much fun.”

“One day one of the neighbors is going to come out and yell at you,” Wendy tells her.

Missy glances at the dashboard clock. “It’s after one on a Sunday. You really think anyone cares?”

Wendy half shrugs.

The way Missy drives, they’re at the mall in less than ten minutes. They wander around for a bit, but all too soon Missy is leading them to the food court because she’s starving. After getting their usual Berry Banana Squeeze for Missy and Mango Passion for Wendy, they find an empty table.

“So how are things going with Mike Chang?”

“It depends,” Wendy replies.

“Depends?”

“On if you’re asking as my best friend or for a scheme,” Wendy clarifies.

“Both, actually.”

Wendy sighs. “It’s going fine. Better than fine, actually.”

“It better be,” Missy says. “I feel like I hardly see you.”

“We still spend most of the day together at school,” Missy points out.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Maybe if you stopped scheming and started legitimately dating, you wouldn’t feel so lonely.”

“I’m not lonely!”

“Don’t get so defensive,” Wendy says. “I’m just trying to help.”

“Who would I date anyway?” Missy asks. “Almost every guy at that school is a moron. And I can’t even be bothered by anyone who isn’t a senior.”

“Seriously?”

“Just because they don’t mercilessly tease the losers anymore, doesn’t mean I’m going to waste my time on just anyone,” Missy retorts.

“As long as you promise to leave me and Mike out of it,” Wendy replies.

…

"Remind me again what this proves," Tina says as they sneak into McKinley late Tuesday night or early Wednesday morning, depending on how you look at it.

"I want to see her reaction," Artie replies. "Have you ever watched her while we're all talking about the prankster?"

Tina shakes her head.

"A lot of the time, she stays out of it, keeps her head down."

"And you think that'll change if we do this?" Tina asks.

"I do."

"And that's why we're doing this ridiculous prank?"

"I wouldn't call it ridiculous," Artie says.

"Absurd then."

"I don't feel that I need to explain my art to you, Tina."

"Whatever you say Artie."

…

When Rachel and Santana enter McKinley Wednesday morning, they notice quite a few people bent over trying unsuccessfully to pick something up. And there are enough people doing it that they have to weave around people to get to their lockers.

"What the hell is going on?" Santana asks Brittany when they get to her locker.

Looking highly amused, Brittany replies, "Apparently someone glued quarters to the ground."

"Seriously?"

"Don't look at me," Rachel says.

"So there's a copycat prankster?" Santana asks.

"Seems that way."

"It's probably just someone trying to draw you out," Brittany says.

"They could've just asked like Mike did," Rachel replies.

"Boring," Brittany says.

"You're just amused about how much effort people are putting forth for twenty-five cents," Santana comments.

"And you're not?" Brittany questions.

"That's besides the point."

"I wonder what kind of glue they used," Rachel says.

"Weirdo," Santana says fondly.

…

Looking at the quarter glued down in front of his office, Figgins doesn’t know what to think anymore. He was so sure that he had the prankster figured out, but this prank really makes him question his previous conclusions.

…

At lunch, Rachel finds an empty table and sits. She's soon joined by Santana on her left and Brittany on her right with Marisa on the other side of Brittany. All too soon Kurt and Mercedes plop down across from them with Artie and Tina right behind them.

"What are you up to Santana?" Kurt asks.

"Eating lunch."

"I mean what does gluing quarters to the ground do?" Kurt continues.

"It's funny," Brittany explains. "People are putting forth a whole lot of effort for twenty-five cents."

"Well that's certainly true," Mercedes agrees.

"Still it seems almost out of character," Kurt says.

"Maybe you should write the prankster a letter and complain," Santana tells him.

Kurt smirks at Santana. "Why when I can just tell you?"

"Why do you keep on insisting it's me, Hummel?" Santana asks.

"Because we all know it is," Quinn says, sitting next to Santana.

"I don't," Puck says as he sits.

"What about you Mike?" Mercedes as Mike sits down.

"I don't think that it's Santana," Mike offers.

"But you have an idea?" Mercedes presses.

"Maybe it's you and Kurt," Mike replies. "You guys are certainly eager to put the blame on someone else. Classic evasion."

"Excellent point, Mike," Rachel says.

"Yeah," Santana adds. "Good point, Mike. Why are you guys always trying to pin it on me?"

"Uh…"

"Now there's a theory we haven't ever considered," Rachel says.

"I don't know," Puck says. "I can't see it. I mean, yeah, they're schemers, but they're just not bad ass enough."

"The hell we aren't," Mercedes argues.

"So you're saying you guys are the prankster?" Santana asks.

"That's not what she's saying," Kurt replies.

"Don't question my bad assery," Mercedes interjects.

"Apparently we're saying don’t question her bad assery," Kurt clarifies.

"Assery isn't a word," Rachel offers.

"Man, I thought we'd finally figured it out," Mike says.

"Maybe we'll never know guys," Tina offers.

"Well then I wasted twenty bucks in that prankster pool," Brittany says.

…

Jack and Emma are having lunch in her office again. They've mostly been chit chatting about things around McKinley, how Jack's classes are going or about the freshman who for some reason thought claiming depression would get him a prescription for medical marijuana from Emma.

"I don't know what's more depressing," Emma says. "That he thought that I could actually prescribe it or that he actually thinks it's legal in Ohio."

"Or that marijuana would be prescribed for depression," Jack offers.

They've been saving their "getting to know you" conversation for their dates. For some reason, it doesn't feel right to mix business with pleasure. So to speak.

"I must say this is the most unusual school I've ever subbed at," Jack says.

"Oh?"

"Who glues quarters to the ground?" Jack asks.

Emma can only shrug.

"I mean, yes, the prankster does keep things interesting, which I suppose is nice."

"That's one way of looking at it," Emma says.

"Though I'm curious why you get a warning when no other faculty member seems to," Jack says. "Not that you don't deserve it, but it just strikes me as weird."

"Honestly, I wish I knew," Emma replies. "Though I am grateful. It does strike me as odd, though."

"That you get a warning?" Jack asks.

Emma nods.

"Why?"

"Well, this school used to be much… crueler."

"I don't know what that means," Jack tells her.

"The social hierarchy in this school was harsh. If you were considered a loser, you were bullied horribly. A daily slushie to the face seemed to be the favorite form of torture."

"That's… I don't even know," Jack says. "And how long did this go on?"

"Years," Emma tells him.

"What stopped it?"

"Ironically, social hierarchy," Emma answers. "One of the most popular Cheerios, Santana Lopez? She started dating Rachel Berry, who was considered the biggest loser in the school. But Santana put a stop to it all."

"For her girlfriend?"

Emma nods again. "There was some backlash, naturally, but it seems to have worked because we're already into November and I haven't seen a slushie thrown at any one person."

"But?"

"Well, the prankster slushied the whole school the first day," Emma explains. "It's what makes me think the prankster is someone unpopular. Revenge."

"Good for them, then."

…

When Artie gets into his car at the end of the day, he's surprised to find Rachel in the passenger seat waiting.

"Hey Rach. What's, uh, up?"

"You could have just asked, you know."

"Excuse me?"

"The quarters weren't really necessary," Rachel continues.

Artie shrugs. "It's something I've always wanted to do."

"Seems like a waste of twenty bucks," Rachel replies.

"Worth it for the response," Artie tells her.

"So how did you figure it out?" Rachel asks.

"If you just think about it, it's the only possible solution," Artie tells her.

"I can see why you're saying that, but if that was really true, why haven't more people figured it out?"

"Have you met some of the idiots around here?" Artie asks. "Plus it's kinda like Hellmouth syndrome."

"Like what?"

"On Buffy. Most of the adults had this weird ability to completely justify their supernatural experiences with vaguely connected real things. Like calling vampires gangs on PCP."

"I'd never thought about it like that."

"Plus, does the rest of the school know how awesome you are? Like we in glee do?" Artie shakes his head.

"Now you're just brown nosing."

Artie gasps dramatically. "Are you, Rachel Berry, turning down praise? Are you sick?"

"And now we've moved onto sarcasm."

"Thank you for noticing," Artie says. "Now what?"

"Now you keep your mouth shut," Rachel tells him.

"Can I pull a prank with you?"

"Maybe."

"Tina knows too," Artie says.

"Figures," Rachel sighs.

"She helped," Artie adds.

"Very kind of her."

“Are you mad at me?” Artie asks.

“No. It’s just, the more people know, the more difficult it is to keep the secret.”

“Well how many people know?”

“Um, Santana, obviously; Brittany, of course; Puck, Marisa, Mike, Becky, you and Tina, oh and Coach Sylvester.”

Artie’s glad he’s not drinking anything because he definitely would have had a spit take at that announcement.

“Coach Sylvester knows?”

Rachel nods.

“And she hasn’t turned you in?” Artie asks.

“Apparently as long as I keep giving her warnings, it’s fine,” Rachel answers.

“Still only…nine people. That’s not that many.”

“Well Finn, technically, though no one believes him,” Rachel continues.

“You think he even still remembers that accusation?” Artie questions. “I mean, it is Finn.”

“Well considering his accusations landed me in Figgins’ office, I don’t want to risk it.”

“Fair enough.”

…

“So two more people know you’re the prankster,” Santana says to Rachel that evening over the phone.

“Indeed,” Rachel agrees. “I’m starting to be concerned about getting caught.”

“You’rejust starting to be concerned?” Santana asks. “My concerns lately haven’t been enough?”

“Oh, it’s always a concern,” Rachel replies. “However, I always felt I could get out of it. I’m not sure I feel that way anymore.”

“So what does that mean? No more pranks?”

“Of course not,” Rachel says. “But maybe just a break? Nothing until after Thanksgiving.”

“Wow, three whole weeks. Figgins will think you’ve given up.”

“Not if he’s smart, he won’t.”

“Fifty fifty then,” Santana quips.

Rachel chuckles. “Sounds about right.”

They lapse into a comfortable silence as Rachel stretches out on her bed. Despite that, she still asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Santana replies. “I just love you is all.”

“I love you too, Tiger.”

“I guess I’m just worried,” Santana continues.

“It’ll all work out, San,” Rachel tells her. “I have things under control.”

“Whatever you say, babe.”

fic: Halloween

2012-09-02T22:36:17Z

Title: Halloween
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, Puck, Brittany/Marisa, Quinn/Alyson, Artie, Tina, Mike/Wendy, Kat Tyler, Emma/Jack, Kurt, Mercedes, Finn, Figgins, OCs
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A Halloween party and then a Halloween prank.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~8,950
Spoilers: spoilers for the movie, Reservoir Dogs.
A/N: Follows Making a Splash. Yes, Artie's costume came from Community. Thanks to bradstev on ff.net for the idea about the janitors.
2nd A/N: Yes, I know how long it's been. Summer is like kryptonite for my creativity apparently. However, as an apology and partly to kick my ass in gear and finish this craziness, there will be daily updates for the next 5 days. Seriously. Thank you for your patience.
3rd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.

series masterlist

Rachel's glad that no one, faculty or students, really seem to notice or investigate odd things around the school. It makes pranking so much easier, especially this Halloween prank.

There are still about two weeks before the holiday and it's three in the morning. As she hangs piñatas in strategic places, Rachel can't help but wonder if anyone will notice, despite knowing she's usually surrounded by the unobservant.

…

Rachel's just about to enter the choir room when she's yanked away from the door. Agitated, she turns to find Noah looking sheepish.

"Sorry bro," he says. "I know how you hate that. But I had to ask you something."

"What Noah?"

"Halloween's on Monday."

"That's not a question," Rachel points out.

"Shouldn't the prankster be striking?" he whispers.

"It's taken care of Noah," Rachel hisses. "I'll fill you in this weekend. All right?"

"Awesome. Definitely. Of course. Should have known not to doubt you."

Rachel just shakes her head. "Can we go to glee now, please?"

…

"Okay, so first order of business," Mr. Schue says. "Apparently Puck and Artie have prepared a duet for us."

He sits down as sporadic clapping fills the room. Puck and Artie move to the front of the room.

"So Artie and I thought it might be fun to do a duet together. And we talked about what song to do forever. We were thinking something classic like The Doors or Metallica."

"Told you," Rachel whispers to Santana.

"But then we decided it might be cool to not do the expected. So we're doing a duet from the musical, Into the Woods."

This announcement is met with silence.

"Uh, all right then," Puck says. He turns to Brad. "Hit it, dude."

As the music starts, Puck takes a step back as Artie begins singing.

Did I abuse her
Or show her disdain?
Why does she run from me?
If I should lose her,
How shall I regain
The heart she has won from me?

Agony!
Beyond power of speech,
When the one thing you want
Is the only thing out of your reach.

Artie rolls back slightly as Puck steps forward.

High in her tower,
She sits by the hour,
Maintaining her hair.
Blithe and becoming and frequently humming
A lighthearted air:
Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-

Agony!
Far more painful than yours,
When you know she would go with you
If there only were doors.

Artie rolls in line with Puck

Agony!
Oh, the torture they teach!

What's as intriguing, Puck sings.

Or half so fatiguing, Artie sings.

They both reach for the sky as they sing, As what's out of reach?

Puck takes a step back as Artie continues to sing.

Am I not sensitive,
Clever,
Well-mannered,
Considerate,
Passionate,
Charming,
As kind as I'm handsome
And heir to a throne?

Puck steps forward and turns to Artie. You are everything maidens could wish for!

Artie faces Puck. Then why no-?

Do I know? Puck sings back.

Artie turns to face the audience.

The girl must be mad!

Puck joins him, facing the audience.

You know nothing of madness
Till you're climbing her hair
And you see her up there
AS you're nearing her,
All the while hearing her:
Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-

Agony! They both sing.

Artie raises a fist as he sings. Misery!

Puck also raises his fist. Woe!

They turn to face each other. Though it's different for each.

Reaching out, Artie sings, Always ten steps behind

Reaching up, Puck sings, Always ten feet below

They inch closer together and Puck kneels, wrapping an arm around Artie.

And she's just out of reach.
Agony
That can cut like a knife!

I must have her to wife.

As the music ends, they both bow with a flourish.

Rachel jumps up, clapping. Everyone joins in.

"Well, Puck, Artie," Mr. Schue says standing. "That was great. And unexpected."

"You didn't expect it to be great?" Puck asks.

"No," Mr. Schue replies. "I didn't expect you two to pick a musical."

"Oh. Okay."

…

It's the Friday before Halloween weekend. As Principal Figgins eats his lunch, he says a silent prayer, asking that the prankster doesn't strike this weekend. It's been a quiet two weeks of no pranks. He's not stupid enough to think the prankster has given up. He's learned the hard way what that kind of thinking leads to.

Figgins wishes his budget would allow him to beef up security for McKinley. Then this whole prankster situation would have already been dealt with last school year. He could put up the video cameras he so desperately needs and possibly electrify all the doors once they lock at seven.

Instead, he's stuck with a half hearted security company that he can call if there are signs of trouble, except they respond with the speed of a dying rhinoceros and no one's ever been caught. Not that he's ever really had an inkling of a prank setup happening.

Only once. He'd been driving home from a movie one Friday night last year and he'd thought he'd seen people loading things into a truck in the darkness of the parking lot. The only problem is that he'd been stuck at a stoplight. And so by the time the light had changed, whoever he'd seen was already gone. All he could be sure of is that he'd seen more than one person. It had been very early in the prankster's career and so he hadn't given it as much weight as he should have. Most likely because no pranks had happened and so Figgins assumed that what he'd seen had been unrelated.

Now he doesn't know what to think.

…

Rachel’s been home for only about twenty minutes when the doorbell rings. She hurries downstairs and opens the door. Standing there with a suitcase, Alyson offers a wave. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Rachel greets. “Come on in.”

Rachel takes Alyson upstairs and shows her the guest room.

“Sorry it’s a mess,” Rachel says. “I tried to move all my dads’ stuff out of the way.”

“It’s fine, Rachel,” Alyson replies. “Thanks for letting me stay. If my family knew I was in town…”

“I understand,” Rachel says. “Trust me. Families are…complicated.”

“That’s an understatement.”

…

Quinn shows up next. Rachel directs her towards the guest room and stays downstairs to give them privacy.

She is surprised when Brittany and Marisa arrive next. Brittany hangs the garment bag she has with her in the front closet.

“So are you finally going to tell us what our costumes are?” Rachel asks.

“When everyone’s here,” Brittany replies.

“Where is Santana, anyway?” Rachel asks.

Brittany just shrugs.

…

Santana shows up about twenty minutes later, looking sheepish. “Sorry. Lost track of time.”

“It’s fine,” Rachel says. “I’ll go get Alyson and Quinn and then Brittany can tell us what our group costume is going to be.” She runs upstairs.

“What were you doing?” Brittany asks.

“Trying to figure out what to do for Rachel’s birthday.”

“When is it?” Marisa asks.

“December 18th.”

“That’s like fifty days away,” Marisa points out.

“I know. But Rachel deserves something great and that takes some planning.”

When they hear Rachel’s footsteps coming down the stairs, Santana shushes them.

“Alyson and Quinn will be down shortly,” Rachel informs them.

Santana smirks because enough time has passed that she can mock Quinn about hooking up with a girl, especially if she comes down with JBF hair.

"And no teasing Quinn right now," Rachel tells Santana.

Marisa laughs.

"I wasn't going to," Santana grumbles, as she sinks onto the couch.

Rachel sits down between Santana and Marisa. "Sure you weren't."

"Busted," Brittany smirks.

When Quinn and Alyson make their way downstairs, they fall into the recliner.

"Yay, now that we're all here," Brittany says. "Our costumes are going to be from my favorite movie."

"Seriously, B?" Santana asks.

"Yes, San," Brittany replies. "Because I've been wanting to do this forever and I finally have enough people."

"What's your favorite movie?" Alyson asks.

"Reservoir Dogs," Brittany and Santana answers, Brittany sounding excited and Santana looking exasperated.

"Uh…"

"Yeah, no one expects that answer," Quinn says.

"Why?" Alyson asks.

"It's considered one of the best heist movies ever and yet we never see the heist," Brittany explains. "Plus Stuck in the Middle with You is one of my favorite songs."

"Is that the one playing while the cop's getting his ear cut off?"

"That's the one," Marisa replies, dryly.

"Huh."

"Don't bother trying to figure Brittany out," Quinn tells Alyson.

"She's right," Rachel adds. "Britt is like a Rubik Cube."

"Square?" Brittany questions, sounding hurt.

"Uh, no," Rachel replies. "Brightly colored and complex, but once you figure her out, you feel a real sense of accomplishment. I assume. I've never finished a Rubik's Cube."

"Have you figured Brittany out, yet?" Alyson asks.

Rachel shakes her head. "Definitely not.

Brittany grabs Rachel and pulls her until she's standing before wrapping her arms tightly around her. "Awww, Rachy, don't worry, you get me more than most."

"Thanks, Britt."

"Can we get back to our costumes?" Santana asks.

"Yeah," Quinn adds. "So we're all going to wear suits?"

"Basically," Brittany replies. "And name tags."

"Seems easy enough," Alyson says.

"I suppose you got us suits?" Santana asks.

"Of course I did."

"Are we sure they're going to fit?" Alyson asks.

"They'll fit," Rachel assures her.

"They will?"

"They will," Marisa says.

"It's just one of those things," Quinn tells Alyson. "B just seems to know stuff."

"All right."

"So what are we doing for dinner?" Santana asks.

…

A few hours later, they're cleaning up pizza boxes and deciding who'll change where.

"Did you write the names on the name tags yet?" Rachel asks Brittany.

Brittany shakes her head. "I thought maybe Quinn or Marisa could. They have much better penmanship than I do."

"Makes sense. Do we owe you anything for the costumes?" Rachel asks.

"Naw, they're loaners."

"They let you just take them?"

"It's amazing what you can get away with if you flash a guy, Rach," Brittany explains.

Chuckling, Rachel shakes her head.

"Never change, Britt."

"Awww, thanks, Rachy."

…

Rachel doesn't know what she thought wearing a suit would feel like, but for some reason, her first response is that it doesn't feel like she thought it would. She's currently sitting at the kitchen table watching Marisa write their character's names on the name tags.

"I feel ridiculous," Alyson says as she enters the kitchen wearing black jeans, instead of black dress slacks.

"Sorry, Alyson," Brittany says. "Mr. Pink wears black jeans."

"At least we get sunglasses," Quinn adds.

"Why am I Mr. Orange again?" Rachel asks.

"Because you would totally be the undercover cop of the group," Brittany replies.

"Thanks?"

…

Rachel volunteers to be the sober driver for the evening, so they all squish into her car and head out.

The party's already in full swing when they arrive. Brittany heads to the dance floor, pulling Marisa with her, while Quinn heads towards the alcohol with Alyson and Santana trailing behind.

Rachel goes off in search of Noah. She finds him in the backyard between two kegs.

"Went all out this year, I see," Rachel greets.

"Senior year, baby."

"If that's how you're going to respond to everything, then this is going to be an extremely long year," Rachel tells him.

"Beer?"

"No thank you," Rachel says. "I drove."

"No fun."

"Don't worry, Noah," Rachel replies. "I plan on having all kinds of fun after the party. I never thought I'd be grateful that Santana has such a high alcohol tolerance."

"I never thought I'd hear you say that," Noah adds. "By the way, who are you supposed to be?"

Rachel points to her name tag. "From Reservoir Dogs."

"Seriously?"

Rachel nods.

"Brittany totally has you guys wrapped around her little finger."

"Who are you supposed to be?" Rachel asks.

"John McClane. From Die Hard. Bruce Willis?"

"I know who he is," Rachel says. "I just can't believe this is your amazing costume."

"What? It's awesome."

"You're in black dress slacks and a wife beater."

"I know," Noah says.

"And barefoot!"

"I know."

"Your idea of awesome costume seems to be whatever you happen to have in your closet," Rachel says.

"Well, you're in a suit," Noah retorts.

"Which I definitely did not have in my closet."

"Whatever, I look awesome."

…

Santana is trying to get Quinn to do a shot with her when Artie rolls into the kitchen, dressed all in black and wearing a very obvious fake goatee.

"Who are you supposed to be?" she asks him.

"I could ask you the same thing," he replies.

Santana points to her name tag.

"Mr. Blonde… Ahhh, nice."

"And you?"

"I'm Evil Artie," he replies. "You can tell by the goatee."

"Wow, so much effort."

"You're wearing a suit and a name tag," Artie accuses.

"At least acquiring a suit requires some effort on my part."

"Oh please, we both know this costume wasn't your idea."

Suddenly two cups are shoved into their personal space.

"What's this about?" Artie asks.

"It's alcohol," Quinn replies. "Drink it and shut up. Both of you."

"Very grumpy service here," Artie says.

"Agreed," Santana adds.

Quinn growls under her breath and takes a long drink from her cup.

…

"Can I get a beer? Or are you keeping this keg for yourself?"

Rachel turns to find Tina behind her. "Nice costume." Tina's dressed in tan cargo pants which are rolled to reveal black converse. She's wearing a white tank top with the British flag on it. Her hair is in a ponytail and there's a cigarette behind her right ear.

"Hey, you look familiar," Puck says.

"Noah."

"It's me, Puck, Tina," Tina says. "We've been in glee club together for over two years now."

"I know who you are, T," Puck tells her. "I meant your costume. I don't know exactly who you are, but it's really familiar."

"It's from a comic book," Tina says. “A crazy, awesome comic book with gods and superheroes and aliens and defending the earth and--.”

"Of course," Puck replies. "The Authority."

"Exactly."

"Very nice," Puck continues. "All you need is a British accent, or at the very least, some British phrases and you'd be perfect."

"Well if you don't get me a beer, I'll call you a bloody wanker," Tina says. "Does that work for you?"

Smirking, Puck hands her a full cup. "Perfect."

…

"I'm starting to think I didn't spend enough time on my costume."

Mike glances over from the driver's seat. "I think you look great. Candy striper, it's cute."

Wendy smiles as she looks Mike's costume over again. "Says the guy in the Black Knight costume."

Mike tries to shrug, but it's difficult to do while driving and wearing armor. "I couldn't find armor that resembled the French Knight, so I figured the Black Knight was close enough."

"Yeah, I still don't know who the hell you're talking about," Wendy replies.

"I know. And we'll be fixing that real soon," Mike assures her. "We're watching some Monty Python real soon."

"All right, I guess," Wendy says as Mike tries to find parking around Puck's house.

…

Kurt's in the kitchen, making himself a vodka Cranberry when Puck smacks him on the back.

"Hey Hummel," he greets.

"Puck," he replies, wincing.

"What is it with you gays and vodka?"

"Uh..."

"I mean you and Al here are just knocking 'em back," Puck continues.

"I told you not to call me that."

Kurt looks over to see a brunette about Rachel's height in a suit and a name tag that reads, Mr. Pink. She holds out her hand. "Alyson Tyler."

Kurt shakes the offered hand. "Kurt Hummel."

"Ahhh."

"What?"

"I've just heard a lot about you," Alyson explains.

"From who?"

"Uh, Quinn."

"Quinn Fabray?"

Alyson nods.

Kurt looks Alyson up and down. "Interesting."

Alyson nods again as she begins making herself a screwdriver.

"Well if you'll excuse me..."

Taking a sip of her drink, Alyson watches Kurt push his way through the crowd.

"What do you suppose that was about?" Puck asks.

Alyson just shrugs.

…

From his spot in the kitchen, Puck watches Finn down yet another beer. He briefly wonders if Finn's trying to give himself alcohol poisoning. He'd be more pissed about Finn apparently trying to drink an entire keg himself if Hudson hadn't given him two twenties the moment he walked in the door. Though Puck has to wonder what Finn is trying to forget.

…

Finding Quinn in the living room, Kurt grabs her and drags her away from her conversation with two Cheerios dressed as Sonny and Cher.

"What the hell, Kurt?"

"We need to talk," Kurt throws over his shoulder as he drags Quinn away.

They end up in the garage.

"All right," Quinn says, pulling away from Kurt. "What is this about?"

"I just wanted to confirm that you've finally embraced your gayness. And I figured that you weren't quite ready to broadcast that just yet."

"What makes you say that I've embraced my so called gayness?"

Kurt smirks. "I just met your girlfriend."

"Who?"

"Alyson."

"What makes you think she's my girlfriend?" Quinn asks.

"Besides the fact that your costumes match?" Kurt retorts. "The way she says your name."

"Seriously?"

Kurt nods.

Quinn sighs. "What of it?"

"So it's true? You're finally admitting it?"

"To a select few," Quinn replies. "I'm not ready for that conversation with my mom yet."

"Fair enough," Kurt says. "It's still exciting, though."

"I guess."

"I do owe Mercedes ten bucks though."

"What? Why?"

"Because I wasn't sure if you'd come out before graduation. She was," Kurt explains.

"Should I be insulted?"

"Course not. Coming out is tough."

"Thanks Kurt."

…

"Hey there loser," Santana says as she enters the kitchen to find Artie mixing himself a drink. "You put any alcohol in there? Or is it all soda?"

"You're bitchier than normal," Artie retorts. "Are you binge drinking to forget the pain?"

"Please, I've barely drank anything tonight. Besides, I could drink anyone here under the table."

"Yes, your alcoholism is something to be proud of."

Santana smirks. "I like the snark. Fine, I challenge you to a contest."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really," Santana says.

"Fine. What?"

"How about shots?"

"And when I win?" Artie asks. "What do I get?"

"If you win, you have the honor of being the only one to ever beat me."

"Woo hoo, there's something I can take to the bank," Artie scoffs.

"Whatever. Fifty bucks, then."

"Much better."

…

While most people begin scurrying towards the kitchen to watch Santana and Artie, Marisa stays in the living room watching the dance floor. She's not much of a dancer, though she knows Brittany is, so she doesn't mind watching from the couch. However, watching Brittany with Mike Chang is a bit…unsettling.

Marisa glances to her left at her couch mate. She looks familiar, Marisa assumes she's a Cheerio, because seeing her in red and white seems right, even if it's a candy striper's outfit. What has Marisa's attention is the apparent jealousy on the girl's face as she watches the pair slink across the floor. She wonders if she has a similar expression on her face.

…

Seated across the table from each other, Artie and Santana face off. Puck is overseeing the whole thing. He insisted that since it's happening at his house, he gets to be in charge. After the three of them argue over what the shot is, the finally settle on Jack Daniels.

Puck sets ten shot glasses on the table; five in front of Santana and five in front of Artie. He then fills each of them with alcohol. Everyone watches as they knock back one right after the other.

Once they've finished all five, everyone watches to see if either is going to puke. When neither moves, a cheer goes through the room as Puck yells, "Five more."

As Puck refills the shot glasses, Rachel appears on Santana's left. "Good luck, tiger," she whispers as she kisses her on the cheek.

"Where are you going?" Santana asks as Rachel stands.

"Elsewhere. I just brought some garbage cans over in case you guys puke. Because no one wants to deal with that."

"Thanks bro," Puck says.

"Yeah, thanks Rachel," Artie adds.

"Good luck, Artie," Rachel tells him. "You'll need it."

Santana smirks as Artie nods determined.

…

As more people squish into the kitchen, Brittany and Mike continue to grind on the dance floor. Marisa's definitely jealous at this point, but doesn't quite know what to do about it.

Wendy, sitting next to Marisa can no longer take it. She stands up and marches up to the pair dancing. She grabs Mike's wrist and yanks him away from Brittany.

"Whoa, Wendy, what's up?" Mike asks.

"Kort," Brittany greets, looking amused.

"Look I know you and I just started whatever this is, but watching you two dance like that is not how I wanted to spend my evening."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Marisa joins in, now standing next to Wendy, arms crossed as well. "Is that for two people that are dating other people, you're sure dancing seductively."

"She's means stop humping on the dance floor," Wendy adds.

Brittany smirks while Mike looks sheepish.

"Sorry," he says. "Britt and I have been dancing like this together for a long time. Sometimes I forget."

"Yeah," Brittany adds. "Chill out. We're just having fun. I'd be dancing with my girlfriend, but she didn't want to."

"Hey, I don't dance," Marisa defends.

"You want to be an actor and you don't dance?" Mike asks.

"How do you know she wants to be an actor?" Wendy questions.

Brittany chuckles.

"Because Marisa and Rachel are friends," Mike explains. "And we've hung out before."

"Oh."

"How about you and I heat up the dance floor?" Mike asks.

Wendy nods.

"Wanna go make out in the bathroom?" Brittany asks Marisa as Mike pulls Wendy onto the dance floor.

"Okay."

…

When the third row of five is filled with Jack, Artie starts to become nervous. He knew going up against Santana would be tough, but now he's starting to worry about alcohol poisoning. Because he's starting to lose feeling in his arms and that can't be good.

"Ready to forfeit?" Santana mocks.

Artie shakes his head. He thinks. Through his blurry vision, he thinks that Santana looks almost as bad off as he is. Maybe he can win this.

…

Sitting on the kitchen counter with Quinn, watching the spectacle, Alyson wonders if her high school experience would have been like this if she'd attended McKinley instead of St. Rose. When Quinn leans her head on Alyson's shoulder, she automatically wraps her arm around her.

"Having fun?" Quinn asks.

Alyson nods, figuring Quinn will feel it. "Yeah. McKinley kids are interesting to watch."

"We like to drink, you mean?"

"It's Lima," Alyson says. "What else is there to do?"

…

The third row of shots goes much slower. Santana does one, then Artie does and there's a lot more staring in between.

When they've both drank fourteen apiece, Puck gleefully begins narrating.

"Lopez is looking a little squeamish. I have no doubt that my girl will defend her title, but at what price."

"Shut up Puckerman," Santana slurs. "And don't call me your girl." She quickly swallows the last shot and slams the glass on the table harshly.

"And now it's Artie's turn," Puck continues. "He's definitely looking a bit green, but I know my man Artie is a fighter. He's not going to go down so easy. He's going to--"

"Shut the fuck up dude," Artie grumbles as he fumbles with the shot glass. It takes quite a bit of concentration, but he finally grasps it and drinks it. The shot glass is half dropped onto the table with a bang.

"Whadda think guys?" Puck asks. "Round four?"

Before anyone can reply, Artie grabs the garbage can next to him and pukes in it.

A collective "Ewww" goes through the crowd and people begin to slowly filter out of the room.

"Yeah, that's right," Santana crows. "Suck it, Artie. Oh shit." Santana turns in her seat and bends over, just managing to hit the garbage can that Rachel left.

"So disappointing, Lopez," Puck says as he helps her move the can into her lap.

"Fuck off, Puckerman," Santana growls once she's finished. "Like you've ever done fifteen shots in ten minutes with good results."

Artie gratefully accepts a wet paper towel from Tina and wipes his mouth. "Man, and I had such plan for that fifty."

…

Kurt's pretty sure he over did it. He decides to get some fresh air to clear his head. He chooses a corner of the yard that appears to be drunkard free. Sighing, he sinks to the ground.

"You okay?"

Kurt jumps, not expecting a question. He finds Rachel learning forward into a thin bit of light coming from the patio. He lets out a sigh of relief. "Oh, hey Rachel. Just needed a break is all."

"Quite understandable."

"Why are you out here?"

"I needed a break from the drunks," Rachel explains. "I'd forgotten how annoying it is to be sober around drunk people. But someone needs to stay sober to drive home."

"That was nice of you," Kurt says. "To volunteer."

"I'm not spending the night here because we have no way to get home," Rachel retorts.

"Yeah, there'll be enough passed out drunks as it is."

To Kurt's surprise, they lapse into silence. After a while, his inebriation hits him like a ton of bricks. "I think I over did it," he says.

"Make sure you drink a lot of water when you get home," is Rachel's response.

"Can I ask you something Rachel?"

"I suppose so."

"You knew, didn't you? About Quinn?"

"What did I know about Quinn?"

"That she's gay," Kurt says.

"She is?"

Kurt sighs. "You can drop the act, Berry. Quinn told me."

Kurt feels Rachel's eyes on him, examining him, despite the darkness. He tries to not feel too self-conscience.

"Very well then," Rachel says finally. "Yes, I did know."

"Have you met her girlfriend?" Kurt asks. "I don't think she goes to McKinley."

"I have indeed met her," Rachel replies. "I introduced them."

"You introduced them?"

"And no, she never went to McKinley. She went to the all girls Catholic high school."

"Of course she did."

"I do hope you'll keep this to yourself, Kurt," Rachel continues. "Quinn not ready to be fully out and being pushed out would devastate her."

"Rachel, I would never," Kurt says. "I hope you know that."

"Oh, I know you would never intentionally say anything," Rachel replies. "However, you're currently drunk and so many of our classmates are currently surrounding us. I just worry. Quinn doesn't need that."

"Are you defending Quinn Fabray?" Kurt asks. "From me? Did I drink so much that I hit my head and forgot something? I feel like I'm in some weird alternate dimension."

"Would knowing that I'm concerned about how Quinn's negative reaction would affect Alyson, someone I consider a friend?"

"Um…maybe."

"Kurt, I know you think I'm a complete fool because I seem to forgive people so easily, but I think that might be because you see things as black or white, right or wrong and I'm not sure that I do. So, despite how horrendous Quinn's been to me in the past, she needs someone in her corner right now, specifically in relation to her sexuality. And I don't mind being that person."

Kurt sighs. "You're right. I just never expected to hear that from you. No offense."

"None taken, I suppose."

…

The dual puking in the kitchen, along with the late hour managed to clear out a majority of the party. Puck is currently on his couch watching Chang and a Cheerio grind on the dance floor. Brittany is next to him with Rachel's little theater geek friend on her lap. He can't quite hear what they're talking about but considering the blush on the theater geek's face, he has a few guesses.

Curled up together in the recliner are Quinn and her girlfriend, which is something Puck never thought he'd see. Even though she hasn't actually said it out loud, bringing a girl to his party is still a big thing. He wonders how Rachel made all that happen. Because even if they haven't actually talked about it, he knows his bro was behind it all.

Puck's interrupted from his musing by the entrance of Finn. Puck hasn't seen him in a while and judging by the weird red marks on the left side of his face, Puck is guessing that Finn passed out in the bathroom. Considering that Finn had basically been drinking straight from the keg, Puck's surprised that he's even moving.

He leans against the door frame watching Mike on the dance floor and sipping from a cup that Puck is pretty sure is more alcohol. Still as long as he's not driving, Puck's not going to police him.

And then Finn's eyes fall onto Quinn and his expression becomes enraged. He's quickly hovering above the pair before Puck can even blink.

"So you're gay now?" Finn growls.

"Finn, you're drunk," Quinn says.

"Answer the question."

Both Mike and Puck try to pull Finn back as he seems to lean closer to Quinn. He does his best to resist.

"Answer the question!"

"I've always been gay," Quinn says. "I just couldn't admit it till now, Finn."

Finn lets out an animalist howl and lunges forward. Quinn wraps her arms around Alyson and tries to protect her from Finn as Puck and Mike just barely manage to hold him back.

"Dude, you gotta calm the fuck down," Puck says. "You're drunk."

"Shut the hell up and let go of me."

"Sorry man," Mike says. "No can do."

"Finn, what the hell are you doing?" Kurt asks as he and Rachel burst into the room.

"Quinn's decided she's gay," Finn growls.

"There's nothing wrong with that," Kurt replies.

"And it's not something you just decide," Rachel adds.

"Probably not the time, Rachel," Kurt mutters.

"Sorry."

"I just… First Rachel. And now Quinn?" Finn says, relaxing, though Mike and Puck don't let go. "What is going on?"

"C'mon man," Puck says. "You can crash on the couch." He and Mike start to lead Finn over. "Party's pretty much done, anyhow, right?"

Everyone nods and heads into the kitchen.

"Puck, man, I'm sorry," Finn mumbles as he sinks on the couch. "I just don't know what to do anymore."

"I know, dude," Puck says.

Mike begins grabbing as many cups and bottles he can before heading into the kitchen.

"Things'll make more sense in the morning," Puck continues.

"Thanks man."

…

In the kitchen, Mike drops the cups and bottles into the garbage bag that Rachel got out. Santana and Artie are still at the table, looking miserable. Alyson and Quinn grab a chair as does Wendy and Kurt.

"Well that was dramatic," Brittany says.

"I don't think I've ever seen him that drunk," Kurt says. "Or that angry."

"Should we be worried, Kurt?" Rachel asks.

"You mean when he sobers up?" Kurt clarifies.

"I'm not ready to be fully out yet, Kurt," Quinn says. "I'm not ready to tell my mom and she should probably hear it from me."

"Plus, my family wouldn't react well, at all," Alyson adds. "Thank god for my scholarship."

"You really think they'd disown you?" Rachel asks.

"I do."

"Damn," Kurt mutters. "Maybe if I can get dad and Carole to talk to him, we can convince him."

"Finn's not vindictive, you guys," Rachel says. "I'm more concerned with him just blurting it out without even realizing what he's doing. His mouth sometimes gets ahead of his brain."

"What brain?" Santana scoffs.

Puck joins them in the kitchen, going to the sink for some water.

"Maybe he's so drunk, he'll forget," Brittany says. "I mean, think about it, he's already passed out once tonight. And he doesn't even know who Alyson is. Maybe denial is our best option."

"Do you get smarter when you're drunk?" Kurt asks.

Alyson gasps, but Quinn leans in and whispers something in her ear that seems to relax her.

"Apparently," Brittany replies.

"What about her?" Kurt asks, pointing to Wendy.

"What about me?" Wendy asks.

"I don't know who you are or if I can trust you," Kurt replies.

"We don't have to worry," Rachel says, staring at the Cheerio. "Do we Wendy?"

Wendy audibly gulps. "No Rachel. You don't have anything to worry about."

"Good," Rachel nods.

"Yep, still in the alternate dimension," Kurt says to himself.

Ignoring him, Rachel turns to Puck. "I think it's time for us to go. Is Finn okay?"

"Hopefully, he's passed out by now," Puck answers. "Don't worry. If he wakes up, I'll just convince him he had a weird dream."

"Excellent," Rachel says. "So Kurt, Artie, do you need a ride home?"

"Uh, do you really have room for that, Rach?" Artie asks.

"Technically no," Rachel replies. "But if you're willing to be uncomfortable for a brief period, it could still work out."

"How uncomfortable exactly?"

…

"I didn't agree to this," Santana grumbles behind Rachel.

"I'm sorry guys, but it's only for a couple minutes," Rachel answers.

"As long as you drop me off first," Kurt says from behind Rachel.

Artie barely manages to hold back a smirk as Rachel drives. He's not sure how, but Rachel managed to fit all eight of them and his wheelchair into her hybrid. His chair is in the trunk while he and Rachel are in the front. In the back sit Brittany and Quinn with their girlfriends in their laps; while Kurt is currently sitting as little as possible on Santana.

"Who the hell are you supposed to be anyway?" Santana asks Kurt.

"Richard Gere from Chicago."

"Figures."

…

When Rachel wakes up Sunday morning, it's still early. Feeling restless, she decides to go for a run, so she doesn't wake anyone else up.

She's tying her sneakers when Santana rolls open and groggily asks, "What's up?"

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you," Rachel replies. "Just going for a run."

"What time is it?"

"You probably don't want to know," Rachel answers.

Santana groans. "Freak." And then she rolls back over, snuggling further into the blankets.

Rachel smirks and stands. She grabs her house keys and her cell phone before heading out.

She's not sure why she's so restless. Saturday was spent just as it usually is, with Santana except with Quinn and Alyson in the house, both couples stayed in their respective bedrooms. They ate takeout together for dinner and watched trashy TV. Despite all her grumbling about the loss of naked time, Rachel knows Santana was glad, is glad that Quinn seems so happy.

Brittany and Marisa had gone home after brunch since Marisa was supposed to watch her little brothers while her mom worked. After going home to shower and change, Brittany was apparently going to spent the afternoon at the Lawson house and keep Marisa company. Rachel's glad that relationship seems to be going so well.

…

A few hours later, freshly showered, Rachel rings the doorbell of the Tyler household. The door is answered my Mrs. Tyler.

"Good morning, Mrs. Tyler," Rachel greets.

"Hello Rachel. Lovely to see you," Mrs. Tyler replies. "Won't you come in? Kat's just about ready."

"Thank you," Rachel says, stepping inside.

"I want to thank you Rachel," Mrs. Tyler says.

"Oh? Whatever for?" Rachel asks.

"Spending time with Kat," Mrs. Tyler replies. "I know as a senior, your schedule is extremely busy and the fact that you still make time for her is just amazing."

"Oh, well thank you," Rachel says. "But I enjoy spending time with her. I'd always wished for a sister growing up. I like to think of her as my honorary little sister."

"That is so sweet."

"Hey mom, who was at the door?" Josh Tyler sticks his head into the hallway. "Oh. Hey Rachel."

"Hi Josh."

"You here to pick up the munchkin?" Josh asks.

Rachel nods. "Do you mind maybe picking her up later?"

"Yes, Josh, that would be lovely," Mrs. Tyler adds.

"We'll most likely be hanging out at my house," Rachel continues. "I think it'd be nice if you were the one to come over."

"Oh. Right. Of course," Josh says. "I don't mind doing that mom."

"Perfect," Mrs. Tyler says. "Well, let me go check on Kat." She climbs the stairs, calling Kat's name.

"You don't mind?" Josh asks.

"Course not," Rachel says. "Stop by, hang out a bit, give her a hard time, you know, be a little brother."

Josh smirks. "She'll hate that."

"Is that a sibling thing I just don't get?" Rachel asks. "You pretend to hate the other's very existence?"

"It is," Josh nods. "Although I think being so close in age, helps as well."

"Interesting."

Just then Kat comes bounding down the stairs with her mother trailing after.

"Hi Rachel."

"Good morning Kat. Are you ready to go?"

Kat nods as she pulls a jacket out of the front closet.

"I'll call you when Kat needs to be picked up, okay?" Rachel asks Josh.

"Sounds great."

"You have his number?" Mrs. Tyler asks.

"I do," Kat replies.

"Okay, well then have a good time, dear."

"Bye mom. Josh. C'mon Rachel, let's go."

…

Rachel spend the drive back to her house fully amused. Kat is so excited, she's practically vibrating. Rachel's glad she could do this for Kat, and Alyson too.

Though Rachel admits to herself, it a bit selfish. She always wanted a sister and the fact that Kat's become her surrogate sister has been great. And now, seeing how happy Kat is at just the prospect of seeing her big sister is causing Rachel to grin uncontrollably.

…

The house is pretty quiet when they enter. Rachel leads Kat towards the kitchen and has her sit at the table.

"How come it's so quiet?"

"Everyone's still sleeping, I'm sure," Rachel replies.

"Big party last night?" Kat asks.

"No, that was Friday night," Rachel explains. "Don't worry, Alyson knows you're here for breakfast. I'm sure they'll be down soon." Rachel goes to the coffee maker and starts it. Turning to Kat, she says, "I'm sure the smell of food will lure them out of bed. What should we make?"

"Uh, waffles?"

"Waffles, huh?"

"It'll give those lazy bums a chance to wake up slowly, right?"

Rachel smirks. "Right you are."

…

Santana wonders how big of sap she is that she's disappointed that she doesn't get to wake up with Rachel. No matter how many nights they spend together, Santana's favorite part has always been waking up still ensconced with her girlfriend.

As the smell of coffee and pancakes make their way further into her consciousness, Santana figures it's time to wake up. She pulls on a pair of sweats and a tank top before heading downstairs.

She finds Alyson hugging Kat and Quinn watching with an adoring smile from the kitchen table. Ignoring her instinct to mock Quinn, Santana waves to everyone and heads for the coffee maker. After pouring herself a mug, she wraps Rachel in her arms.

"Morning."

"Hey sleepy head."

"Whatever freak," Santana teases. "Waffles?"

"Kat's idea."

"I didn't know you guys have a waffle iron," Santana says.

"It is a rarely used item," Rachel agrees. "You want to set the table for me?"

Santana gives a dramatic sigh. "Fine. Since you cooked or whatever."

Smiling, Rachel returns to the waffle iron as Santana grabs plates from the cabinet. As she setting the plates down, Quinn jumps up and grabs silverware. Once everything's on the table, both Quinn and Santana watch with amusement at the excitement radiating off Kat. She's bouncing around and talking a mile a minute to Alyson who is listening with a grin.

"All right motor mouth," Rachel says setting down a stack of waffles and a bowl of fruit. "Time to eat."

"Fine," Kat huffs and sits at the table.

The next few minutes are filled with the sounds of clinking silverware and groans.

"Holy crap, Berry," Quinn says. "If there anything you can't make?"

"If there is," Santana replies. "She hasn't found it yet."

"Well as a vegan, it could be argued any meat product," Rachel says.

"These are vegan?" Alyson asks.

"They are."

"Huh. Never would have guessed."

"Me either, Rach," Kat pipes up.

"Thanks guys."

…

Santana makes Rachel sit at the table while she and Quinn clean up. Alyson and Kat are in the living room, catching up.

"You guys are being ridiculous," Rachel says. "I'm perfectly capable of cleaning up."

"You cooked," Santana replies. "We clean."

"Yeah, Berry," Quinn says. "For once, just sit there and relax."

"Whatever," Rachel huffs.

…

They spend the rest of the morning and into the afternoon in the living room with the TV playing in the background, just talking. Alyson's trying to soak up as much time with Kat and Quinn as she can. Every time she looks at a clock it's with a certain amount of dread since she needs to leave by three.

When the doorbell rings, everyone, but Rachel and Kat look up in surprise.

"That would be Josh," Rachel says, standing.

"It's only a little after two," Quinn points out. "I thought you weren't leaving until three."

"And I still am," Alyson says.

"No worries ladies," Josh says, entering. "I just came for a little mockery time with my big sis."

"Yay," Alyson says, dryly.

"Love you too, Aly."

…

The rest of the afternoon is filled with good byes and Rachel finds herself emotionally exhausted. She, Santana and Quinn spend the rest of the afternoon on the couch watching trashy TV. Quinn seems reluctant to leave and Rachel's not going to push it. Even though she thinks Quinn and Alyson are great for each other, she still feels bad about the fact that it's now a long distance relationship.

…

It's after midnight when Puck pulls into the McKinley parking lot. He parks in his usual spot, hidden in the shadows. He and Rachel quickly unload the laundry cart that Rachel “borrowed” from the locker room. Less than a minute, they’re inside the school.

“You are a god damn genius, bro,” Puck says as he pushes the laundry cart inside.

“I have become very efficient at picking locks, I agree,” Rachel replies.

They head to the janitor’s closet first for a ladder. Puck carries it as Rachel pulls the cart. One by one, they take down the piñatas Rachel put up two weeks earlier.

“Do I even want to know where you got so many piñatas so quickly?” Puck asks.

“Passionateforpiñatas.com,” Rachel replies. “They have an excellent bulk rate.”

“And all the creamy filling?”

“Bulkforabuck.com. They have an awesome bulk rate. Obviously.”

It takes a little over an hour to replace the three dozen harmless piñatas with the prank ones. They then return the ladder and the laundry cart to their appropriate places.

“Still pretty early,” Puck says as they climb into his truck.

“Yes,” Rachel agrees. “Enough time for me to get a decent amount of sleep.”

“It’s our senior year, Rach,” Puck says. “You gotta let loose.”

“Have you already forgotten the last two hours of our lives?” Rachel questions. “What would you call that prank we just set up?”

“Awesome,” he replies. “But then you had to follow it up by talking about getting a decent night’s sleep.”

“Because I’m tired.”

“Because it’s exhausting being Rachel Berry?”

“Do not mock me, Noah,” Rachel says.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, bro.”

…

When Emma arrives at work Monday morning, she’s surprised to find a post-it note on her computer screen.

Eating your lunch in your office, with the door closed today is an EXCELLENT idea. –a friend

So it seems that the prankster is going to strike today. Emma’s not surprised. Halloween seems like a very good time to pull a prank. She wonders what it’ll be. Her first thought is a Carrie reenactment; a shudder runs through her and she decides to stay in her office as much as possible. Just in case.

…

Principal Figgins is on edge. It’s Halloween. A prank is going to be pulled. He can feel it. The problem is that the prankster keeps the pranks varied; there’s no telling what could happen. He’d been half hoping it’d be something externally like a giant pumpkin blocking the entrance; because at least then he would know. This waiting game isn’t good for his health.

…

Emma sees Jack walking past her office during third period. She flags him down and he enters her office with a smile.

“Hello Emma,” he greets. “How’s your Monday going?”

“It’s just fine,” Emma replies. “I was wondering if you’d like to have lunch with me, here, in my office.”

“Sure that sounds nice.”

Okay. I’ll see you later, then.”

Grinning, Jack gives a half bow before leaving.

…

When Rachel and Santana decide to eat lunch in the choir room, she supposes she shouldn't have been surprised that the other glee kids would have the same idea.

"Happy Halloween," Brittany exclaims when they enter.

Besides Brittany sits an uncomfortable looking Marisa, Artie and Tina. Kurt and Mercedes are a few chairs over with Quinn sitting behind them next to Mike.

Santana sits next to Quinn and Rachel next to Mike and they start eating.

A moment later, Puck bursts in. "Huh."

"I take it that it hasn't started yet," Artie says.

"What hasn't?" Puck asks.

"Whatever is going to happen that means it's smart to hide in here," Tina says.

"I guess not," Puck replies. "I mean, I haven't heard any crashes or screams or any of the usual." He then slumps into the only empty chair in the first row.

"What crawled up your ass?" Santana asks him.

"I wanna see it," Puck replies.

"What?"

"Whatever's going to happen," he says. "I bet it's awesome…and orange."

"Orange?" Marisa asks.

"For Halloween."

"We'll hear about it all too soon, I'm sure," Rachel says.

…

Tony looks around the small break room that is for the janitorial staff only. Budget cuts means he doesn't have as many people as he'd like, but considering the size of their break room, he supposes he could consider it a small blessing.

He knows he should hate the prankster as much as the faculty, but he just can't. For one thing, the constant pranks mean job stability for him and the rest of his staff. He can barely clean up after various pranks with the few he has. And Figgins knows it, so he hasn't made Tony fire anymore people in the last year.

He'd been surprised to find an envelope taped to his locker when he arrived this morning. It had read, Anthony J. Briggs, Head Janitor. He'd opened it cautiously, as if it might explode, because at McKinley, you really never knew. He'd been shocked to read a heartfelt sounding apology for the chaos that was to occur later in the day, as well as a warning to stay out of it.

Tony appreciates the warning and the apology. He knows the prankster's beef is with Figgins and so he simply tucks the note back into the envelope and puts the envelope back in his locker.

He then tells the rest of the janitors to eat lunch in the break room today.

…

"Why do I get the feeling that your request to eat lunch in here isn't just to bask in my sparkling personality?" Jack asks Emma as she nervously stares out into the hallway.

"Excuse me?"

"You keep looking out into the hallway. Expecting someone?"

"More like something," Emma replies. "I assume you've heard about the McKinley Prankster?"

"It's come up a few times."

"Well, he's been sending me warnings about when the pranks happening."

"Oh really?"

Emma nods. "A lot of the pranks involve a lot of…mess and apparently knowing my phobia, the prankster has been warning me. So even though almost everyone else is covered in slushie or stuck to fly paper, I managed to escape those fates."

"But you don't know who it is?"

"No one seems to," Emma replies.

"Surely there must be some leads," Jack comments.

"Oh yes, there were plenty," Emma tells him. "But they've all been eliminated."

"Eliminated?"

"Well, there's no proof, so Principal Figgins' hands are tied. If he goes after someone without definitive proof…well, it wouldn't be good."

"Why do I feel like I'm missing something here?"

"Um, well, have you met Rachel Berry? Short brunette, usually in skirts and speaks far too properly to be a teenager?"

Jack chuckles. "I know exactly who you mean."

"Well both her girlfriend and her best friend were accused of being the prankster simply because of their reputations. However, when Figgins threatened to expel them without tangible proof, she began threatening lawsuits."

"Because they're innocent?"

"I hope so," Emma says. "But honestly? I have no idea."

Suddenly the hallway seems to be filled with chaos. All that Emma can see is students scrabbling about, orange paint, and what she hopes is fake blood. There are random little explosions that seem to add to the chaos.

"Thank you for inviting me to lunch," Jack says, gazing out into the hallway at all the pandemonium.

…

Puck's the only one who reacts when the explosions, screaming and chaos begin. A little too eager, he jumps up and tries to see everything out the small window on the door.

"Where's Finn?" Kurt asks.

"Maybe he's hiding somewhere else," Tina says.

"Yeah, we just came here because it seemed easier," Artie adds.

"Or he didn't get a warning," Mercedes says. "Remember on the first day how he didn't get a raincoat like the rest of us?"

"Yeah, you're right," Kurt agrees.

"Douchebag deserves it," Santana mutters.

"Hey, I know he was out of line the other night, but he's still my brother," Kurt says.

"Whatever."

"And then you wonder why we think you're the prankster, Santana," Kurt replies.

"I know why," Santana tells him. "Cause I'm fucking bad ass. But it wasn't me. I'm just glad that the prankster seems to have his priorities straight."

…

Because so many students and faculty are covered in either orange paint, fake blood and grape slushie, if not all three, Figgins has to cancel the rest of the day. The halls are bedlam as people rush to the bathrooms and locker rooms to clean up. A few people even jump into the pool, causing the janitors to groan because that means they'll need to drain the pool again.

Trying to restore order to the halls of McKinley after the three dozen mini explosions of various liquids is impossible. Despite hating that the prankster has triumphed again, Figgins has to cancel the rest of the day. Especially since many people had just left, heading home to clean up.

…

Rachel's not sure how it happens, but Santana, Quinn, Brittany, Marisa, Puck, Mike, Artie and Tina all end up at her house after the abbreviated school day.

"I say we toast the prankster," Puck says, raising his beer that he stole from the fridge. "For allowing us to have so many extra days off."

Brittany claps.

"It's hardly something to celebrate, Noah," Rachel says. "Just because this is our senior year, doesn't mean it's not important. We're going to fall behind and either miss something at the end or have to quickly breeze through something to finish everything we're supposed to."

"Maybe you should write the prankster a note," Brittany suggests.

"How's she supposed to do that B?" Quinn asks. "If we supposedly don't know who it is."

"I don't know. Maybe post it on the front door?"

"Or publish it in the school paper," Marisa suggests.

"Yeah. That," Brittany agrees.

"What if the prankster doesn't read the school paper?" Mike asks. "I mean, not many people do."

"I'm not going to write the prankster a letter, guys," Rachel interjects. "It would probably have the reverse effect."

"What's that supposed to mean, babe?"

"I'm sure the prankster, like many at this school, isn't a fan of my talent and would simply do the exact opposite of what I request out of spite."

"You really think he'd do that?" Mike asks.

"The prankster could be a girl," Brittany says.

Santana groans. "Don't encourage them, B."

"Relax, S," Quinn says. "No one's saying it's you."

"Hummel seemed to earlier," Santana points out.

"He was defending Finn," Rachel points out.

"Waste of time," Santana grumbles.

Rachel elbows her.

…

Looking down the main hallway, Tony sighs, knowing he has hours of work in front of him. So caught up in his thoughts that he doesn't notice the three guys in light blue jumpsuits behind him until one taps him on the shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"You look like you could use some help," the tallest says.

"Thank you for stating the obvious," Tony replies.

"I'm Ron. This is my brothers Tommy and Billy. We've been hired to help you."

Tony blinks. "Seriously?"

Ron nods.

"I'm not even going to question it," Tony tells them. "There's too much to do. Feel free to jump in anywhere."

"Thanks man," Ron replies.

Tony watches the trio drag their cleaning materials that they apparently brought with down the hall and get to work. He can only shake his head in disbelief. Just when he thought the prankster couldn't surprise him anymore.

fic: Defending Tori

2012-07-14T04:18:27Z

Title: Defending Tori
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Tori/Jade, Andre, Robbie, Cat, Beck, Rex
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Three times Jade returns the favor and defends Tori.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~2,480
Spoilers: Not really.
A/N: Sequel to Defending Jade. For IDF 2012.
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.

Two
Despite the fact that they attend a performing arts high school, Tori is apparently getting harassed about dating Jade.

When Jade hears this off handed comment from Robbie, she literally grabs his arms and shakes him until he explains.

"It's not me, I swear," he manages.

"Obviously," Jade growls. "Who is it?"

"Lisa and Trisha."

Jade lets go of Robbie and he crumples to the ground as she stomps off.

…

Jade's first instinct is to hunt them both down and cut off all their hair. She did just get a brand new pair of shiny and very sharp scissors that would work perfectly. Maybe she could make some sort of sick trophy out of the hair she cuts off, like a bracelet or belt.

However, she's been told that if she actually goes after someone with scissors, she will be suspended. Threatening people is one thing. They can't do as much about that, but if there's actual physical proof, well then Jade will definitely be in trouble. And those ganks are not worth getting suspended over.

A new plan is needed.

…

Later, Jade finds Tori at lunch, grabs her wrist and drags her away.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't," Cat calls after them.

"That leaves us open to do a lot," Tori mutters as she's led away.

When they reach the janitor's closet Jade pushes Tori inside. Not expecting the push, Tori half stumbles, running into some mops and almost falls, but manages to brace herself against the wall.

Jade follows chuckling at the spectacle.

"We need to talk," Jade announces once Tori's stopped knocking things around.

"You could have just said that," Tori retorts, brushing herself off.

Jade just smirks.

"Well?"

"Are you being harassed?"

"At the moment, yes, I am, by you," Tori snaps.

"I'm serious, Tori," Jade says. "If people are giving you a hard time…"

"I can handle it."

"And that bruise on your shoulder I saw the other day, is really from bumping into a door frame?"

"Uh, yes…"

"Who is it?"

Tori sighs. "It's not necessarily about us. I may have pissed them off a while back and now they're just taking their revenge."

"Lisa and Trisha?"

"Um…"

"For that incident in the bathroom?"

Tori does an actual double take. "What---how did you, how do you know about that?"

"It doesn’t matter," Jade replies, not wanting to admit she was eating lunch in the bathroom like a loser. "Yes or no."

"Yes," Tori admits.

"Good."

"Good?"

"Because I just ruined them both socially and I'd hate to think I did it to the wrong bitches."

"How did you ruin them socially?" Tori questions.

"Just because Beck and I broke up, doesn't mean I'm any less popular," Jade replies. "I decreed that they're social leapers and so now they are."

"Jade…"

"What? You're the only one that gets to do the defending?" Jade asks. "You're mine now and no one messes with you unless they want to deal with me. This school needs to know that."

"That's one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for me," Tori replies.

"Seriously?"

"Anyone can give flowers," Tori says. "Threatening social hierarchy is so much better."

"I do enjoy the power."

"So do I get to reward my protector?" Tori asks, slowly pressing Jade against the door of the janitor's closet.

Jade grins. "You better. And then after, we can talk about this secret keeping."

"Whatever miss I know things I shouldn't know."

"You just wish you were as all knowing as me."

"Your modesty level is like literally nonexistent, isn't it?"

Three
Rex has been half seriously dating these two Northridge skanks for almost three weeks now. No one, not even Robbie can believe it's lasted this long. Northridge girls rarely hang around for more than a week and Rex seems to have the attention span for girls that Cat does for… most topics. And yet, it's been nineteen days.

Which unfortunately means that they're around all the fucking time. Jade's just about had it with their giggling and flirting with Rex. It's pathetic. She's not sure what's worse that these girls are apparently dating a puppet or that the rest of them just accept it as normal.

They're hanging out at Tori's just watching TV and the skanks are there too. Rex texted them. Jade ordered Robbie to keep the girls away, but probably should have known better than to leave any sort of responsibility to Robbie, especially in relation to Rex.

Jade lets out another loud sigh and Tori chuckles lightly, snuggling further against her, as if that will calm her down. Actually, it might if they were alone, but since there are seven other people in the room, all it does is remind Jade that they're definitely not alone. So she just grumbles to herself.

She hears Tori laugh softly and half punches her in the arm, which is difficult considering how they're intertwined. Tori huffs in exaggerated pain and pouts until Jade kisses her lightly on the lips.

A while later as Jade is returning from the bathroom, she overhears the skanks gossiping in the hallway.

"…believe those two?"

"I know, they're so sad and pathetic."

"Rexy said he hung out with some odd people, but I don't know if I can be around those people."

"Yeah. Especially that Tori girl."

"Yeah, I don't get her. What is her deal? She's just so… I don't know. But that Jade chick should so get back with the Canadian. They're totally hot together."

"Right. Their babies would be like fucking gorgeous."

"I know right. And it's not like…"

Jade listens until they're gone, both her hands making fists so tight that she breaks the skin of her palms with her nails. She doesn't care. Nobody, but especially not some Northridge skanks get to judge her or Tori. Or talk about Jade having babies with Beck.

Jade's done. She put up with those bitches, like she does Rex, for Robbie's sake, but those skanks just insulted Tori in her own house. Not acceptable.

…

When Jade returns to the living room, the skanks are at the table, chatting with Rex and because of proximity, Robbie. Grinning, Jade saunters over to Tori, still on the couch and leans over the back to kiss her. Except, she grabs Tori's shirt and holds her in place as she kisses her possessively. Jade only pulls away when she can't take anymore of Beck pointedly clearing his throat.

"What was that for?" Tori whispers, still looking a little dazed.

"Cause I can," Jade smirks.

"Lucky me."

Jade straights up as she lets go of Tori's shirt. She then looks directly at the skanks and her grin becomes menacing. Robbie happens to glance over and gulps at the look in her eye. Unfortunately for him, Rex is still talking to the blonde skank and doesn't notice. Robbie tries to interrupt Rex so he can jump out of the line of fire, but Rex ignores him.

"Excuse me," Jade interrupts.

"Uh oh," Rex says. "What's up?"

"I'd really like to talk to these two a moment," Jade says a little too sweetly.

"Um…"

"Sure, Jade," Robbie says, jumping up and offering his chair.

"Oh no thanks," Jade says. "I'd rather have the discussion outside. If that's all right."

The skanks look at each other for a moment and then shrug. "Whatever," the redhead says. They both stand and walk out the front door.

Everyone else watches in fearful anticipation as Jade follows and closes the front door with a gleeful grin.

Once the door is firmly shut, Jade leans against it, causally. "So. You two think it's fun to gossip about us like we're more pathetic than you losers."

"Just because we're from Northridge, doesn't mean we're losers," the blonde defends.

"No, I'm pretty sure it's because the two of you are dating a fucking puppet," Jade retorts.

"Yeah. But Rex is a kick. And ripping on Robbie is fun," the blonde replies.

"Too bad. Because I don't ever want to see your pathetic little faces around ever again."

"Please, we're not scared of you," the redhead scoffs. "We go school with actual delinquents."

Jade's grin grows. "I was hoping you'd say something like that."

…

When Jade returns, everyone else is sitting very still on the couch, staring at the front door.

"Hey," Jade says, before plopping back onto the couch next to Tori.

"Hi," Tori replies, cautiously.

"Um…where's Cindy and Louise?" Robbie asks.

"They had to go," Jade tells them. "Real shame too."

"Not really," Tori mutters.

Jade's smirk grows.

"And, uh, will we be seeing them again?" Beck asks.

"Probably not," Jade replies.

"Hey ," Rex says. "You don't get to ruin my chance at a threesome!"

"That is wrong on so many levels," Beck grumbles.

"I'm not touching that one," Andre mutters.

"What are you going to do about it, Rex ?" Jade questions.

"If I wasn't attached to this loser…" Rex replies.

"Uh huh," Jade says. "Keep telling yourself that."

"What'd you do to them anyway, Jade?" Cat asks. "It was really kinda loud out there for a moment."

"Oh, I just gave them a quick lesson on what happens when Northridge girls come into my territory and insult my girl."

"When did they insult me?" Tori asks.

"Behind your back," Jade informs her.

"Oh."

"Like you weren't talking trash about them, either," Rex says.

"Yeah, but I wasn't doing in their own god damn house," Jade retorts.

"True," Andre says. "That's kinda not cool."

"I can't believe you were defending my honor," Tori gushes. "That is just so…"

"It's sweet and adorable and charming," Cat pipes up.

"Yeah," Beck says. "Who are you and what did you do with Jade?"

This earns him a hard elbow to the kidney.

"Jade, be nice," Tori scolds.

"He knows how possessive I am," Jade replies. "I don't know why he's surprised by anything I do."

"Please," Beck groans. "You're like a freaking cipher."

"Jade doesn't own a surfboard," Cat interjects.

Everyone turns to look at Cat.

"What are you talking about little red?"

"Jade doesn't surf," Cat replies. "So she can't be a surfer."

"A cipher," Tori says.

"It means she's secretive," Beck adds.

"Oh," Cat says. "Yes, she is."

"Jesus," Jade groans. "Can we please just watch some TV or something?"

"Good idea," Andre says.

Jade resumes her position wrapped around Tori and hopes they don’t choose anything too stupid to watch.

One
Being Tori's best friend, Andre is one of the first people to learn they're dating. Jade expected that. After all, she wouldn't have even known how long Tori's liked her if it wasn't for Andre. Though, that wasn't on purpose.

Still, Jade's definitely surprised when Andre pulls her into the janitor's closet exactly nine days after Tori and Jade first kissed.

"We need to talk," he says as the door clicks shut behind him.

"Please tell me this isn't the whole "if you hurt her, I'll hurt you" best friend spiel," Jade groans.

"It's not," Andre replies. "Because you already knew that."

Jade raises an eyebrow at him.

"Don't give me that look," Andre says. "It's true."

"Yeah. Yeah. Whatever."

"Jade," Andre warns.

"Fine," Jade huffs. "Yes, I knew that. And I have no intention of hurting her. Okay?"

"Thanks," Andre replies. "But that's not why I pulled you in here."

"What else could you possibly have to talk to me about in the god damn janitor's closet?"

"I didn't want to tell you this… but I think someone should," Andre starts.

"What?"

"And it doesn’t mean anything. You have to know that."

"God, Andre, just freaking tell me already."

"So you know this weekend? You decided not to hang because you were finishing that play about the girl with multiple personalities?"

Jade nods.

"Well, I don't know if Tori mentioned it or not, but we got kinda bored and followed Rex to a party."

Jade groans.

"It wasn't a Northridge party," Andre adds. "But it was still pretty crazy anyway."

"I wouldn’t expect anything less from Rex," Jade comments.

"Well, there was alcohol."

"Oooh, at a high school party? How shocking."

"And you know Tori can't really hold her liquor," Andre continues.

Jade nods.

"Well she and Beck might have gotten into a shot drinking contest that ended with the two of them making out."

Jade blinks at Andre several times before asking quietly, "What?"

"Um, yeah. They got drunk and made out."

"They did not," Jade tells Andre.

"What? How would you know? You weren't there."

"You're right. I wasn't. And you weren't either. Because it didn't happen," Jade replies.

"Uh, I beg to differ," Andre says. "And it did happen."

"No. It didn't," Jade insists.

"Why would you say that?"

"Because Tori wouldn't do that to me," Jade replies.

"Well, she was drinking."

"I don't care if she was snorting coke," Jade tells him. "She wouldn't do that to me. End of story."

"You're so sure," Andre comments.

"Because it's true."

"But how do you know? Really?"

"Tori wouldn't cheat," Jade defends.

"She was drunk," Andre offers.

"Doesn't matter. She wouldn't do that."

"You're really sure? Remember, she did kiss Beck her second day here."

"That was for a scene and to like stand up to me," Jade replies.

"Are you really sure about that?"

Jade takes several deep breathes. She genuinely likes Andre and considers him a friend. So hurting him with her scissors really isn't an option.

"Look, Andre," Jade says, slowly. "I know what you're doing. And I think it's admirable. But you've proved your point. So now you're just going to drop it."

"You're sure?"

"Andre!"

"Fine," he says, holding up his hands to defend himself. "You're right. I was lying."

"I knew it."

"I'm sorry. Really," Andre says. "But I just had to be sure."

"Whatever."

"Tori's my best friend," Andre continues. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't going to pull the same crap with her that you pulled with Beck."

"Crap? Is that what he called it? Because I was--"

"Jade," Andre interrupts. "That's not the point. I know why you were so damn sensitive about Beck. But that's not an issue with Tori, is it?"

"No," Jade agrees.

"But I had to make sure," Andre tells her. "Because Tori isn't going to necessarily put up with all that now that you're dating. No matter how long she's liked you."

"I know."

"And I just figured for both your sakes, I'd make sure."

"Both our sakes?" Jade questions.

Andre nods. "You and I are friends too. Right?"

"Yeah, we are."

"Good," Andre says.

"Can we please leave the damn janitor's closet now?" Jade asks. "Before people start to talk?"

Andre nods. "Though I'm pretty sure they already are."

Jade just shakes her head as she follow Andre out of the janitor's closet.

fic: Ambitions Deleted Scene Six: An Adorable Couple

2012-07-12T00:45:50Z

Title: Ambitions Deleted Scene Six: An Adorable Couple
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, OCs
Rating: PG
Summary: Rachel and Santana have dinner with an influential producer.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~1,500
Spoilers: Ambitions One and Two
A/N: For IDF 2012. Requested by kiarcheo
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.

May 2028

"Congrats on your first Tony nomination," Mary says.

"Thank you," Rachel replies. "I'm quite excited."

Rachel and Santana are having dinner with Lawrence Amerson, better known as LJ and his wife, Mary. LJ is a producer who mainly works in LA, though he seems to know most of the producers of all the productions Rachel's participated in. When he called her up out of the blue, asking her to dinner, she couldn't say no. Gretchen would have reamed her out for hours if she had. Not that Rachel would have, she knows the influence LJ Amerson has. She's just thankful that Santana was able to join her.

"It's fucking incredible," Santana adds.

"San," Rachel chastises.

LJ chuckles. "It's fine, Rachel. She's proud. It's a good thing."

"Yes, well, she knows how I feel about cursing."

"I love you babe," Santana says. "But you're thirty-three years old and ten years curse more than you do."

"Everyone has their quirks, tiger," Rachel replies.

"You two are rather adorable," Mary comments.

Santana smirks and grabs Rachel's hand, who is blushing.

They're currently sitting in Arabelle, the restaurant in the Hotel Plaza Athénée. Santana, having come directly from work, actually feels underdressed. It doesn't help that her wife is dressed to the nines in a stunning burgundy number that has Santana thinking very inappropriate thoughts.

"Lawrence and I were like that when we first married," Mary continues. "How long have you two been together?"

"Well, we've been married for seven years now," Rachel answers. "But we've been together off and on since we were seventeen."

"High school sweethearts?" Mary exclaims. "How sweet. And you're still together and happy? That's something you don't hear nowadays."

"Well, we've always been overachievers," Santana says.

Rachel lightly elbows Santana.

"Plus, once you've found the best, why look elsewhere?"

"I assume you mean me," Rachel says.

"No, I was talking about me," Santana smirks.

This earns her a harsher elbowing.

"See?" Mary says. "Adorable."

"You shouldn't be so hard on Santana, Rachel," LJ says. "Confidence like that is what's helping her rise in the DA's office, I assume."

"It is," Santana nods.

"That and her insanely high conviction record," Rachel adds. "She can break the most seasoned criminal on the stand. She's a force to be reckoned with in full bitch mode."

"I do like being right," Santana says.

"The arrogance of youth," LJ chuckles. "I do miss it sometimes."

"You have plenty of arrogance still," Mary tells him. "It didn't disappear with age."

"Was that a compliment, darling?"

"More like an observation," Mary replies.

Dinner continues like that, with little talk of work. Rachel finds herself relaxing and having a good time. She'd been quite nervous, knowing the influence LJ could have on her career. However, he and his wife are so easy going, it's almost impossible to be nervous.

Instead, it's a causal dinner with friends. Mary asks a lot of questions about their relationship, specifically in high school. She seems very enamored with the idea of Santana and Rachel as a couple. Santana in turn finds this amusing.

"She was a bit of a bore until she started dating me," Santana teases.

"It was hardly your influence that made me--it was more Noah than you," Rachel retorts.

"Don't give him so much credit, Rach," Santana replies. "He might have given you the idea, but you took it and ran with it."

"Well, don't keep me in suspense," Mary tells her.

"Rachel was quite the trouble maker," Santana explains. "She started small with things like gluing all the hockey pucks together into a log, but eventually she was doing crazy things like setting off fireworks during an assembly."

"San," Rachel hisses. "You're going to make them think I was some sort of delinquent."

"Well kids will be kids," LJ chuckles.

"Besides," Santana adds. "No one ever got hurt. You took so many safety precautions, I got a headache just listening to you."

"Thank you?"

"She's just embarrassed," Santana says. "She'd rather be remembered for taking our glee club to Nationals our senior year."

"It was a momentous occasion," Rachel adds.

"Well both are things to be proud of in my book," LJ tells her.

When they finally part company many hours later, Rachel is full of food as well as tired from laughing and being embarrassed by all the things Santana has chosen to brag about.

Rachel and Santana walk the couple to the elevator. However, before stepping inside, LJ pulls Rachel aside.

"I know you have a busy schedule, but I was hoping you could play a small part in my latest project."

"Well, I'd be delighted to, but it does depend on the role," Rachel replies.

"You're not automatically saying yes?"

"Um… What if I don't feel I'm properly suited for it?"

"I suppose that's something to consider," LJ agrees. "Well, I'll have my people call your agent tomorrow and get you a script, so you can decide."

"It's not that I'm not honored, LJ," Rachel replies. "Because I am. And very appreciative. It's just nothing bothers me more than miscasting. Personally, it pulls me right out of the movie."

"Intriguing."

"I'm sorry if I've offended you," Rachel says.

"It's not that," LJ assures her. "I just find it interesting that after all I've learned about you tonight, you're still surprising me. I like that."

"I'm glad," Rachel replies. "Because I won't compromise my beliefs for anyone."

"Not even your wife?"

"I would hope she'd never ask."

"But what if she did?"

"I'd maybe consider it for San," Rachel tells him. "And possibly my sisters."

LJ smirks. "Well, thank you for a very pleasant evening, Rachel."

"Well, thank you for inviting us."

"We'll talk soon, okay?"

"That sounds lovely."

Rachel grabs Santana's hand as the elevator door closes and they walk out quietly. A cab is waiting for them and they silently ride back to the apartment, Rachel's head lying on Santana's shoulder.

"I think it went well," Santana says in the elevator.

"Well, he did offer me a part," Rachel agrees. "So hopefully it's one that fits me."

"You didn't just automatically accept, did you?"

"Of course not," Rachel replies. "You know my feelings about miscasting."

"You're amazing in everything you do," Santana assures her.

"Oh I know--"

"Modest much?"

"But there are plenty of parts, I'm not right to play."

"Yeah, I know. It's all about making smart choices."

"We'll see what Gretchen has to say about it tomorrow."

…

Twenty-four hours later Rachel has the role of Jennifer in the upcoming David Henrie directed film, Rapid Slow Motion. It's not a large part. It only requires her to film for a mouth, but it's enough for her name to appear in the opening credits. Gretchen seems particularly excited about what it might do for her career.

Santana is ecstatic until they realize it means Rachel will be spending a month in LA. They haven't really spent that long apart since Rachel played Margaret in The General Store seven years ago. She remembers it being a miserable experience and isn't looking forward to a repeat. Still, she knows how important this is for Rachel's career.

Rachel too has mixed feelings about it. Sometimes she wishes Santana had a career that would allow her to come with, but also can't imagine Santana doing anything else. It would be easier if they weren't so damn codependent.

"Then we wouldn't be us," Santana says as they lay in bed discussing it.

"Who would we be then?"

"No idea, babe."

"Well since I fly out just before Thanksgiving, you're coming with me," Rachel tells her.

"What?"

"As if I'd spend Thanksgiving alone in LA without you."

"You wouldn't be alone," Santana replies. "You do know people. Britt for one. Or Kurt."

"I'm not calling up Kurt," Rachel retorts. "And yes, I remember that Brittany lives in LA. I just figured she'd visit her folks."

"Christmas, maybe," Santana says. "But not Thanksgiving."

"Oh. Well, then you're coming with and we'll spend it with her."

"I like that plan," Santana says.

"Good. I'll call Britt tomorrow and figure out the details."

"Okay. Email me the dates and I'll make sure I have them off."

"I'm not worried," Rachel replies. "Eric will make sure you have them off."

"Because that's not favoritism."

"It is," Rachel agrees. "And if I have to call him, to make sure. I will."

"I kinda love that you're willing to completely exploit my boss's crush on you."

"I will use everything at my disposal to ensure we spend Thanksgiving together," Rachel replies.

"I know," Santana says. "And I love you even more for that."

"Well, I am very loveable."

"And humble."

"Pot? Kettle."

"Why do you always have to get the last word in?" Santana teases.

"Why do you?" Rachel counters.

"I'm a lawyer. It's what we do."

"Well, I'm an actress. It's what we do too."

"Just shut up and kiss me."

fic: Ambitions Deleted Scene Five: Marking Your Territory

2012-07-12T00:41:37Z

Title: Ambitions Deleted Scene Five: Marking Your Territory
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Santana, OCs
Rating: R for the C word.
Summary: "Miles Silverman is the biggest prick I've ever met," Rachel says. "Why do I have to go?" "Because he also produces brand new Tony winning musicals," Gretchen explains.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~1,500
Spoilers: Ambitions One and Two
A/N: For IDF 2012. Requested by kiarcheo
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.

March 2024

Rachel is both surprised and disgusted when she receives an invitation to Miles Silverman's annual St. Patrick's Day bash. She's debating whether or not to go when her cell phone rings.

"This is Rachel."

"Rachel, darling, it's Gretchen."

"Oh hello Gretchen."

"Have you checked your email this morning?" she asks.

"I'm in the process of doing so. Why?"

"You should have an invitation to the Silverman bash on the 16th."

"I do."

"Good. Make sure your dear wife has the night off. Because you're going."

"Miles Silverman is the biggest prick I've ever met," Rachel says. "Why do I have to go?"

"Because he also produces brand new Tony winning musicals," Gretchen explains. "So if he requests your presence, you show up. You want him to know who you are, Rachel."

"Fine," Rachel sighs. "But you owe me."

"I'm already paying you back," Gretchen replies. "If you get the lead in his new musical, you'll be thanking me then."

"Only if I get a Tony out of it," Rachel retorts, before hanging up. She then sends Santana an email explaining the situation. Luckily, since it's a Saturday, Santana assures her that she'll be able to attend.

…

Saturday the 16th, Rachel is not looking forward to the party, but nonetheless, she gets ready and drags Santana down to a cab.

"I'd say we should drink a lot to deal," Santana says. "But I don't trust that guy to not grab your ass."

"And I don't trust you to not react to that," Rachel replies. "So we'll keep the drinking to a minimal."

"How long do we have to stay?"

"Longer than I'd like," Rachel sighs. "I'm hoping three hours is enough. Though I might blame it on your libido."

"What? That I can't resist you in that dress?" Santana asks. "Because that's actually true."

"Good. We're definitely using that, then."

…

Rachel drags Santana around as they search out Miles. She knows if she doesn't say hello first thing, it'll be thought of as a slight and so as Santana snatches two chutes of green tinted champagne off a tray, Rachel looks for Miles.

She finds him talking to a couple directors while his hand rests on the ass of his very young looking date. Rachel's willing to bet she's an escort. Or a very desperate actress. It makes her want to vomit. Instead, she accepts the champagne from Santana and puts on her best show smile.

"Rachel Berry is that you?" Miles greets her.

"Nice to see you again, Miles."

"You as well," he replies, leering at her outfit.

"May I introduce my wife, Santana?"

"Nice to meet you, Miles."

"You as well, Santana," Miles replies. "So glad you could join us."

"Thank you for inviting me," Santana replies.

"I hope it didn't interfere with work," Miles continues.

"Thankfully no," Santana says. "I'm not on call this weekend."

"On call?"

"Oh I'm an ADA for the CSU."

"Really?"

"She's an amazing lawyer," Rachel offers.

"Almost as amazing as you are, when you're performing," Santana smirks.

"God you two are just too perfect, aren't you?"

"Well, we try," Rachel says.

"And you succeed admirably," Miles replies. "Please mingle and help yourself to more champagne. Enjoy your evening."

"Thank you Miles."

…

A couple hours later, Santana is exiting the bathroom when she sees Rachel cornered by a tall, older man who has to be either a producer or director. She wonders if she should go join Rachel, but figures she should maybe just wait for Rachel's signal.

Instead, she gets into a discussion about music with a couple of dancers. She still keeps an eye on Rachel, trying to keep her wife in her line of sight. She doesn’t trust any of the power players in the room. They're worse than her fellow lawyers.

Santana looks over at one point and sees Rachel boxed in the corner of the room and excuses herself.

She taps the idiot on the shoulder. "Excuse me."

"A bit busy at the moment," he mutters back.

Santana's second tap is much more forceful. "Excuse me."

"What?" he growls, half spinning around.

Santana sees her opening and slides in between him and Rachel.

"What the hell are you doing, bitch?" he growls.

Santana actually winces at the smell of whisky wafting off him. "You need to back off, buddy."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll have to make you," Santana retorts.

"Ms. Berry and I were just having a nice conversation, weren't we?" he sneers. "It's none of your damn business."

"Since she's my wife, I beg to differ," Santana replies.

"Wife? Yeah, I heard that. But you ladies are just kidding yourselves."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Santana growls.

"I'm sure you know exactly what I'm getting at," he retorts.

"Stan," Rachel says from behind Santana. "Maybe now would be a good time to go find your wife."

"You don't get to tell me what to do, bitch," Stan grumbles.

"Do not talk to my wife like that," Santana warns.

"You realize I'm not afraid of you little lady," Stan tells her.

"Well you should be," Santana replies. "I've taken down bigger jackasses than you, buddy."

"And I've done plenty to stupid interfering little bitches like you."

"This is your last warning, pal," Santana says. "Back away and you can still leave with dignity."

"If you think I'm going to back down from you, you've obviously had too much to drink."

"I believe you're the one who's had too much to drink tonight, Stan," Rachel says.

"Stay out of this Berry," Stan sneers. "This is between me and the little lady."

Rachel sighs. Glancing around, she sees they've gathered a crowd, though neither Stan or Santana has noticed yet.

"So you're not leaving yet," Santana observes.

"Do your worse, bitch."

Santana smirks. Suddenly her right hand is squeezing Stan's ring and middle finger until cracks are heard and Stan is holding his hand and howling in pain.

"You god damn cunt, you broke my fingers!"

"I did warn you," Santana grins.

"Fucking fuck!" Stan is clenching his hand and whimpering.

A moment later, a young man appears at Stan's side and encourages him to come with. Everyone watches as he's escorted out of the party.

"Who was that guy?" Santana whispers.

"Silverman's assistant, I think."

"Oh."

They don't discuss it any further because they're quickly surrounded by all the bystanders. Santana accepts their admiration and appreciation while hating them for not stepping in to help.

"We're theater people, San," Rachel says when everyone's left and they're sipping champagne in the corner. "They didn't want to interrupt the drama."

"Your people suck," Santana grumbles.

"Well your peers aren't exactly rays of sunshine, are they?"

"I suppose not," Santana agrees. "God, can we go home yet?"

"Not quite."

"You so owe me, babe."

…

"Never a dull moment around you two, it seems," Miles says joining them a few minutes later.

"I'm sorry about that, Miles," Santana says, hating that she has to apologize. "But I'm sure you understand that I can't have anyone harassing my wife."

"Of course not," Miles leers. "I would be disappointed with any other response. If you can't defend your woman, then you don't deserve her."

"Uh, yeah. Thanks, I guess."

"Don't worry about it, Santana," Miles assures her. "Stan Vicks is a bigger asshole than I am. And that's saying a lot."

"Um…"

"He should know better to hit on actresses when his wife is here, anyway," Miles continues. "Idiot just can't hold his liquor. Which is sad since alcoholism runs in his family."

"Thank you for handling the aftermath, Miles," Rachel says.

"Anything for you, my dear," Miles grins, eyes firmly on Rachel's chest. "After all, we can't have an actress of your caliber being harassed. What would people think of me if I allowed that to happen?"

"Oh, I'm not sure that I'm really that--"

"Please don't play the false modesty game with me, Rachel," Miles interrupts. "I expect better from you."

"Well, then, thank you for the compliment, Miles."

"Much better. Well, I must say, it's been an interesting night."

"It has indeed," Santana agrees.

"No one would blame you two if you took off," Miles continues. "After such a confrontation, most would assume that you'd want to take your wife home and mark your territory. So to speak."

"Um, well, we were just discussing that," Rachel replies.

"Good. Say your goodbyes then and get out of here," Miles says. "I won't hold it against you."

Rachel nods and Miles bows slightly, before leaving them alone.

"Is he serious?" Santana asks.

"He is," Rachel answers. "And it wouldn't be a bad thing if we did leave. If anything, it probably would help. I mean, everyone does expect my caveman like wife to drag me out of her and reclaim me or whatever."

"Like I said," Santana replies. "Your people are weird."

…

After saying their goodbyes, they pair quickly jumps into an elevator and are on the street before Rachel even knows it.

"Eager much?" Rachel teases as they climb into a cab.

"Just playing my role, dear," Santana retorts after giving the cabbie their address.

"Thank you," Rachel says, leaning against Santana.

"Anytime, babe," Santana replies. "Anytime."

The Heart Wants What the Heart Wants - Epilogue

2012-07-12T00:32:56Z

Title: The Heart Wants What the Heart Wants - Epilogue
Author: slacker_d
Crossover: Glee/TiMER
Pairing/Characters: Santana/Rachel, Quinn/Mike, Rachel's dad, Brittany
Rating: light R for language
Summary: Santana is definitely not Rachel's soul mate. But how important is that really?
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~6, 450
Spoilers: Basic plot of TiMER
A/N: For IDF 2012.
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.

Epilogue: Two Years Later
"I can't believe you're actually moving out," Rachel says.

"I know," Mike agrees. "We've lived together for too long."

"Hey, you say that like it's a bad thing."

"No, of course not," Mike replies. "I'm just saying since we graduated from college, we haven't lived with anyone but each other."

"Well, I'm pretty sure it'd be weird if we still did after you got married."

"Whatever you say, sis," Mike replies. "You and your BFF would probably love it."

"You're just jealous my BFF is more awesome than yours."

"Uh huh, sure, that must be it."

Rachel looks around his empty bedroom and feels tears forming. She hugs Mike tightly.

"I'm gonna miss you Mikey," she sniffs.

"Jeez, I’m just moving across town. Besides, you can crash on our couch anytime, you know that."

"I'm not sure San would agree with that," Rachel replies.

"Well, how about if you guys have a fight?"

"Then I guess I should extend the same invitation to you, huh?"

"Yeah, probably," Mike replies. "Quinn does have a wicked temper."

"You're the only one that gets her that mad, Mike," Rachel says. "That means something."

"That's what she says too."

"See, I know what I'm talking about."

"God, you two are pathetic," Santana interrupts. "You act like he's moving across the country, not twenty miles away. If I'd known you two were so damn codependent…"

"You'd what, San?" Rachel asks. "You never do finish your threats."

"Whatever. Just finish hugging in here and stop trying to skip out on the work. Or I'm never helping with anything ever again."

Rachel pushes Santana out of the room and Mike slams the door shut. They share another hug.

"Happy tears, right?" Mike asks as they pull apart.

"Definitely happy tears," Rachel assures them. "So we go help our women?"

Mike nods. "I'm not ending up on the couch because of you."

"Same here pal," Rachel says as they exit the room.

fic: The Heart Wants What the Heart Wants

2012-07-12T00:28:23Z

Title: The Heart Wants What the Heart Wants
Author: slacker_d
Crossover: Glee/TiMER
Pairing/Characters: Santana/Rachel, Quinn/Mike, Rachel's dad, Brittany
Rating: light R for language
Summary: Santana is definitely not Rachel's soul mate. But how important is that really?
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~6, 450
Spoilers: Basic plot of TiMER
A/N: For IDF 2012.
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.

Despite her bad luck with potential suitors in the past, Rachel has a good feeling about Sam. He's super sweet, a bit geeky and has a great smile. They don't have as much in common as Rachel had hoped for, but common interests doesn't necessary mean any sort of guarantee, Jesse is perfect example of that.

And since Sam isn't a hundred percent sure about doing this, Rachel has to keep up her enthusiasm as she practically drags him into the store.

"Good morning, Rachel."

As someone who's pulled many people into the store, Rachel has now gained her own personal store clerk. "Hello Brittany."

"Found another one, huh?"

Rachel nods. "This is Sam."

"Nice to meet you Sam. Should we get started?"

Sam nods, a bit nervous.

Brittany sits him down in a chair and before too long, the TiMER is attached. The three of them watch as it thinks for a moment, before whirling on and displaying 2 years, 7 months, 2 weeks, 3 days.

Rachel sighs, looking at her own wrist and the TiMER that is still blank. That's the one thing the advertising leaves out. If your soul mate doesn't have one, yours won't start the countdown and you'll be left waiting and wondering. Rachel's been wearing it for almost ten years now and it's still blank. It's depressing and frustrating.

Sam and Rachel separate outside the store, since Rachel doesn't see the point if Sam's not the one.

…

Mike's cell phone is ringing. He reaches for it, but when he touches an unfamiliar lamp, he remembers he's not at his place and it's most likely in his pants. He groans and sits up, blinking. Because it's Rachel's ringtone, he knows she's not going to stop until he answers, so he digs around for his pants.

After it starts ringing for the third time, he finds them and yanks the phone out.

"What?"

"Good morning sunshine."

"Hey some of us need our beauty rest," Mike retorts as he tries to pull his pants on.

"Well, I assume you're free for lunch."

"Didn't go well?"

Rachel sighs. "Sam isn't the one."

Mike sighs as well. He knows the unknown is driving Rachel crazy. It's frustrating to not even have a count down on your arm. The only thing more frustrating is his own which states he still has 15 years, 4 months 3 weeks and 1 day until he meets his soul mate. Meeting his soul mate at 42 seems like too long to wait.

"Lunch sounds good," Mike tells her. "See you in twenty."

…

Rachel sometimes hates how much stock she puts in TiMER, but she can't help it. She's always been a romantic at heart and the idea of a soul mate appeals to that part of her. But also, the TiMERs have greatly affected her life.

Her parents were already having problems when TiMERs first came out when she was fourteen. Needing to know, Jacob Berry went and immediately had one put on. Knowing Shelby didn't have one, he was both surprised and dejected when his immediately clicked on reading 11 months, 1 week, 5 days.

Livid that he'd done that without discussing it with her, Shelby demanded a divorce and moved across the country. Having always been a daddy's girl, Rachel wasn't surprised that her dad got custody; hurt that her mom seemed to want nothing to do with her, but not surprised.

And then ten months after Shelby left, Jacob Berry met Michael Chang.

It was a bit of surprise to find out that her dad was gay, but Rachel saw how happy they were together. She was also excited because Michael had a son, Mike, who was around the same age as Rachel. She wasn't an only child anymore.

Thankfully, she and Mike got along famously and soon it was hard to remember that they hadn't actually grown up together.

By this time, TiMERs had become mainstream and it seemed that every other person had one. Despite this and their own belief in the TiMERs, Jacob and Michael still had Rachel and Mike wait until they were eighteen to get one.

However, both TiMERs were disappointments. Rachel's stay blank, meaning that her soul mate had yet to get a TiMER. While Mike's read 24 years, 6 months, 3 weeks and 5 days. He wouldn't meet his soul mate until he was 42 years old.

At first Rachel thought Mike's was worse because 24 years is a long time to wait, but as the years pass and her TiMER remains blank, she's not sure. At least Mike knows, it's the not knowing that is driving Rachel crazy. She thought it was just a matter of time, but now it's almost ten years later and she still doesn't know, despite almost 90% of the population having one.

It's why for the last year or so, she's been dragging potentials into the store and having them get a TiMER. However, after eight disappointments: Finn, Blaine, Jesse, Marcy, Rory, Dave, Tina, and finally, Sam, her faith in the TiMER is definitely beginning to wan.

…

They have lunch at the apartment they share since Mike grabbed sandwiches from the deli at the corner. They're regular customers and so when either walks in, they automatically start making their usual

"I still think you shouldn't have had Tina get one," Mike says. "You guys were really good together. Even if she wasn't the one, she was still pretty awesome."

"I guess."

"And you were together for the longest of any of your recent relationships," Mike continues.

"Yeah, because I might have actually loved her and I was afraid of what the TiMER would do to our relationship."

"What if she'd been the one?" Mike questions.

"But she wasn't, was she?"

Mike shakes his head.

"And I was right. It was over after that. It's why I dragged Sam there after only five dates. I had to know."

"I know," Mike nods.

Rachel sighs. "Maybe I should just give up."

"That doesn't sound like my little sister the romantic," Mike teases.

"You're only four months older than me," Rachel reminds him.

"I'm still older though."

"Shut up and eat your sandwich, Chang."

…

Feeling a little down about her dating life, Rachel wonders if maybe she should just take a break. She ponders this as she strolls through the grocery store. Looking down at her half-filled basket and her blank TiMER, Rachel sighs.

While checking out, Rachel notices the clerk's TiMER is set to go off in almost four months and finds it almost unfair since she can't be more than twenty-three.

Feeling Rachel's eyes on her, the clerk smiles and Rachel reads her nametag, Santana. Rachel can't help but smile back, noticing how Santana's eyes light up with her smile.

After being told the total, Rachel quietly pays and accepts her bag of groceries. She then goes home to an empty apartment since Mike has another date.

Since the meeting with his soul mate is so far off, Mike's dating life consists of mostly young twenty-some year olds who are rebelling against the TiMER. Apparently, not everyone appreciates having a countdown timer on their wrist.

Rachel knows Mike wishes for something different, but with the ability to know exactly when you're going to meet your soul mate, people seem less likely to chances.

She feels for him. At least with her blank TiMER, she has possibilities.

…

Rachel has lunch the next day with her dad. She tries to stay upbeat and steer the conversation away from her dating life. But with her blank TiMER showing, it's inevitable.

"Sam wasn't the one, honey?" Jacob asks.

"Apparently not."

"Don't get yourself down about it, sweetie," Jacob says. "It'll happen when it's supposed to happen."

"Easy for you to say," Rache retorts. "You've found your person."

"And for that I am extremely grateful, yes," Jacob agrees. "But amazing things are worth waiting for. Look at Mike."

"Yeah, I'm sure that's how he thinks of waiting until he's over forty."

"He seems to have made peace with it," Jacob replies.

Rachel just shakes her head. She knows otherwise, but she also knows why Mike hasn't really talked about it with their parents.

"You just have to keep going, keep looking," Jacob continues. "Good things come to those who wait."

Rachel really wishes her dad wouldn't try to parent her with cliché phrases. The comfort she needs isn't going to be found in expressions that can also be found in a fortune cookie.

…

Mike's latest date, Melanie, wanted to meet at a piano bar, which is why Mike finds himself sipping a beer and watching a guy in a tux set up. He's a bit early, so he doesn't worry when he doesn't immediately see her. But after his watch tells him, she's twenty minutes late, Mike figures he's been stood up. He orders another beer.

A few minutes a blonde in a business suit sits next to him. She flags down the bartender and orders a vodka gimlet.

While she's waiting, she glances over at Mike, who smiles and sips his beer.

"Little early to be drinking," she says.

"I could say the same to you," he replies. "And it's not that early. It just feels like it because there aren't any windows in here."

"I suppose."

"I'm Mike."

"Quinn," she replies. "And I'm not interested."

"In what?" Mike questions. "I was just telling you name, so I could get yours."

"And throw some horrible pick up line at me?"

"No," Mike replies. "So I can refer to you by your name instead of hot blonde in my mind."

"Hot blonde?"

"Would you prefer just blonde?"

Quinn mulls it over as the bartender appears with her drink. "No, I suppose hot blonde is fine."

"Good."

"So if you're not trying to pick me up," Quinn says. "Why are you here?"

"Oh. I'm meeting someone," Mike explains. "But since she's over a half hour late, I'm starting to think I was stood up."

"That's a shame," Quinn says.

"Well at least I'm not lonely now," Mike replies.

"I thought you weren't trying to pick me up," Quinn says.

"I'm not," Mike says. "That doesn't mean we can't talk though, right?"

"I suppose that wouldn't be terrible."

…

Mike has another date tonight, so Rachel doesn't expect to see him. She feels like baking and so she's once again at the grocery store alone, with a half empty basket. She doesn't know why she bothers. She ends up giving most of them to her dad and Michael or Mike will eat the rest. Still, it soothes her.

This time as she's checking out, Santana seems to recognize her and smiles. Rachel smiles back and tries to not look at her TiMER.

Noticing this, Santana looks down at her wrist. "Oh yeah. Nutty, I know. I'm too young for that, but what are you going to do?"

"You'll be glad about it later," Rachel replies.

Santana looks at Rachel's wrist. "Oh. Well, you're still young."

"Uh huh, thanks."

"Listen," Santana says. "We should hang out some time."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah," Santana replies. "Tomorrow night, my band's playing. At Lauren's Bar on Fifth. We go on at ten. You should come. It'll be fun."

"I don't think so," Rachel says as she swipes her credit card.

"At least promise me, you'll think about it? Okay?"

"Okay," Rachel sighs.

"Wicked," Santana smiles. "Tomorrow night, then."

…

Part of the reason Rachel was reluctant to accept Santana's offer the other day is because she has a date. It's a blind date that Michael set up for her. Apparently, the daughter of his boss is the perfect match. Rachel doesn't know what to say anymore. She accepted more because she didn't need her dad questioning her than any actual want.

It starts out fine. She and Mercedes seem to have a lot in common, but they disagree on some key points that end with an actual shouting match in the middle of the restaurant. They calm down after they're kicked out and are able to laugh about it, but both agree that anything else most likely won't work between them.

And so it's eight-thirty on a Friday night and Rachel is once again at home.

Remembering Santana's invitation, Rachel quickly changes. Maybe it's time to have a little more fun in her dating life.

…

Lauren's Bar is packed. It seems that Santana's band is pretty popular. She orders a drink and grabs some empty space at the bar.

At 10:07, S 'N' M appears on stage. Santana introduces herself, the bass player, Matt and the drummer, Puck. They play a couple covers and then a original song, "Lead On". They're not bad. Rachel finds herself a bit disappointed when they take a breather.

"Hey, you came," Santana says, joining Rachel at the bar. She nods to the bartender who appears a moment later with a beer.

"Well, I figured I could use a little fun," Rachel replies.

"Awesome. So what'd you think?"

"Better than I was expecting," Rachel answers, honestly.

Santana lets out a loud laugh. "I like your honesty. And I'm glad we exceeded expectations. You gonna stay for the second set?"

"Thinking about it," Rachel smirks.

"Good," Santana replies. "We're hanging after that, then."

"We are?"

"We are."

"All right then."

…

Hanging out apparently means going back to Rachel's apartment.

"Sorry," Santana says. "It's just I share a really shitty apartment with the band."

"It's fine."

They end up watching a movie while Santana eats some of the cookies Rachel made the night before.

"I'm still kinda surprised you showed up tonight," Santana says as the credits are rolling.

"Well, my, uh, date tonight didn't turn out so well."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Rachel replies. "We're too similar, too hot tempered."

"How do you figure that after just one date?"

"Uh, we may have gotten into a heated argument that escalated enough for us to get kicked out of the restaurant," Rachel sheepishly explains.

"Seriously?"

"Uh, yeah."

"You're just full of surprises," Santana comments. "What was the argument about?"

"It's stupid," Rachel says.

"Most arguments are," Santana agrees. "C'mon. Tell me."

"Uh, well I still maintain that Barbra Streisand is the greatest singer/performer alive today. Mercedes disagreed."

Santana raises an eyebrow.

"I know," Rachel says, hiding in her hands. "It's stupid."

"It's crazy," Santana tells her. "And it kinda makes me want to kiss you."

Rachel looks up in surprise, just in time to find Santana's lips pressed against hers.

…

Mike finds himself back at the piano bar in hopes of running into Quinn again. He knows it's silly, but they really seemed to connect the other night and after having some real interaction with a woman, it's even more difficult to return to his irresponsible dating.

He's pleasantly surprised to find her sitting at the bar, sipping a vodka gimlet. He's even more surprised when she greets his happily and asks him to join her.

…

"Haven't seen you around lately," Rachel comments as she and Mike eat lunch a few weeks later.

"I've me this great woman," Mike replies. "Doesn't believe in the TiMER."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, we've been talking at that weird little piano bar downtown."

"Brad's?"

"That's the one," Mike says.

"Interesting."

"Uh huh. What about you? No laments about dating?"

"Not really."

"What? You decided to take that break from dating?"

"Not exactly," Rachel answers.

Mike waits for Rachel to continue. "Spill, Rach."

"I decided to have a little fun is all," Rachel replies.

"What does that mean?"

"The check out girl at the grocery store asked me out, well, invited me to see her band."

"Which one?"

"The young one that's always flirting with both of us," Rachel tells him. "She has a TiMER that goes off in a few months, but I've decided not to care."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Rachel replies. "She's fun. She's laid back and spontaneous and for once I'm not thinking about whether or not she could be my potential soul mate."

"You sound almost happy," Mike comments.

"She's even teaching me how to play the guitar," Rachel continues.

"Good for you, sis."

…

Sipping his beer and watching Brad set up for the night, Mike lets his mind wander to Quinn. They've spent more nights together than not in the last month. He thinks he may be falling for her. Looking down at his TiMER, Mike sighs. Part of him feels like Quinn's the one, though the device on his wrist definitely says otherwise.

As if he didn't already kind of hate the TiMER, he had to go and fall for someone who's definitely not his soul mate.

But then he remembers Quinn's response whenever he asks why she hasn't gotten one.

"I'm not sure if I believe in soul mates. I mean, I realize how stupid that sounds in this age of the TiMER, but, I don't know. What if your soul mate isn't someone you can date? What if you're a gay man and your soul mate is a woman? You're not going to just change your orientation. Soul mate doesn't necessarily mean lover, it just means the one person in the world that gets you. Not to mention how limiting it is. I mean, that thing on your wrist automatically means we're not meant to be. And yet, I've never connected with anyone the way I have with you."

Mike had agreed with her, because he's told Quinn things he's never told anyone, even Rachel and they've become best friends over the years. He wants to ask her out, but he knows there's a good chance she'll decline because of the stupid TiMER.

Maybe it's time to take charge of things, change things up.

…

Rachel hates it when her dad calls her at work, but figures it's just best to answer and get it over with.

"Hello dad."

"Rachel, sweetie, I'm sorry to call you at work, but I wanted to make sure you're still coming to our anniversary party on Saturday."

"Of course I am, dad," Rachel replies.

"Good. Good. I'm sorry, honey. I was just worried since we haven't talked in a while."

"I'm sorry, dad," Rachel says. "It's been a little crazy lately."

"Oh, did you meet someone new? Have you had them get the TiMER yet?"

"It's not that."

"Oh. Well, all right. I'll see you Saturday night?"

"See you then, dad."

…

"You really want me to come to your parents' anniversary party on Saturday?" Quinn asks Mike.

"Yeah," he replies. "It'll be fun. Well, not really, but my sister will be there and I want you guys to meet. Plus, I want you there."

"You do?"

"We don't have to stay long, I promise," Mike assures her. "But I really like you and I think it might be nice to spend time together somewhere that isn't a bar."

"All right. I'll come. But just for a bit."

…

Rachel and Santana are lounging on the couch watching TV and idly chatting. It's on the tip of Rachel's tongue to ask Santana to come with on Saturday night, but she knows if she does, her dad will have issues with her seeing someone whose TiMER is almost up.

"Hey, if we ever had an out of town gig, would you want to come?" Santana asks, randomly.

"I don't know," Rachel replies. "Depends on where and when, I suppose."

"Oh. So that's a maybe?"

"It is."

"Cool. Cause Matt was saying we might be getting some more road gigs in the next couple months and I thought it might be fun if you came with."

The word "months" sticks out to Rachel. In a few months, Santana's meant to meet her soul mate. She's not sure she wants to be around for that. Because despite her best intentions, she finds herself falling for Santana.

Rachel grabs the remote and hits mute. "Listen, Santana, we should talk."

"Uh, all right."

"I like you. A lot."

"Good," Santana replies. "I like you too."

"And we've been having a good time together."

"We have," Santana agrees.

"But I think that maybe it's time to call it quits."

"What? Why?"

"Because this can't go anywhere," Rachel replies.

"Why not?"

Rachel points at her wrist.

"Why do you put so much god damn stock in these stupid things?!"

"Because they work," Rachel retorts. "Besides, you're wearing one, so you're one to talk."

"Just because I have this thing on my wrist, doesn't mean it's a good idea," Santana replies.

"If you really felt that way, you'd remove it."

"Really? You really feel that way?"

"I do."

"And so, what? I take it off and then you and I can be together, really?"

"I don't know, maybe," Rachel shouts.

Neither notice Mike stumbling out, woken by their shouting.

"Fine, if that's how you feel, I'll get rid of it," Santana says. She holds up her wrist and rips it off.

Rachel lets out a scream and covers her eyes, not wanting to see the blood.

Except Santana didn't cry out in pain. Rachel slowly opens her eyes to see Mike staring wide eyed at Santana's bare, uninjured wrist.

"What the fuck?" Mike exclaims.

"It's not real," Santana explains. "A buddy of mine, Artie, made it. For some reason, women don't give me the time of day if I'm not wearing one. This way, I can really get to know someone."

"You've been lying this entire time?"

"I'm sorry," Santana exclaims. "I've always thought you were cute. And we both know you probably wouldn't have given me a chance if I didn't have that damn thing on my wrist."

"Yeah, but--"

"I have feelings for you, Rach," Santana continues. "And I think you might feel the same about me. Now that you know, we could maybe try, really try."

"I…"

"Maybe you should go, Santana," Mike says quietly.

"Mike. Really. I wasn't trying--"

"I know, but I think you guys both need some space to think. All right?"

Santana nods. She turns towards Rachel, huddled on the couch. "Please call me. Even if you decided not to--just, please let me know. Okay?"

Rachel sniffles as she nods.

"Night guys." Santana grabs her stuff and hurries out of the apartment.

The moment the door slams shut, Rachel rushes into Mike's arms and he holds her as she cries.

…

The next morning, Mike makes Rachel pancakes for breakfast.

"Thanks," she says as she pours them both coffee.

They eat in silence, but Rachel can't stop staring at the TiMER on her wrist.

"Sometimes I think these things are more trouble than they're worth," Mike says eventually.

"They work," Rachel replies. "Our dads are proof of that."

"Maybe," Mike agrees. "But just because it worked for them, doesn't mean it'll work for us."

Rachel sighs. "What choice do we have?"

"We could have them removed."

Rachel stares at Mike for a long moment.

"You're serious?"

"I am," Mike replies.

"We can do that?"

Mike smiles. "We can."

"Our dads wouldn't be pleased," Rachel points out.

"No probably not," Mike agrees. "But we don’t have to do everything our dads tell us, right?"

"No, I guess we don't."

"And then you can be with Santana and I can be with Quinn."

"Yeah. Yeah, we could. I mean, neither of them believe in TiMERs anyway."

"So what do you think?"

"Let's do it."

…

Brittany recognizes Rachel the moment they step into the store. Rachel's a bit surprised since she hasn't been there in over a month.

"Hello Rachel," Brittany greets. "Haven't seen you in a while. I thought maybe your TiMER had started."

"It hasn't," Rachel says, holding up her wrist.

"Another candidate?"

"Actually this is my brother, Mike," Rachel replies. "We were hoping you could remove ours."

"You're serious?"

"We are."

"All right then," Brittany says. "Follow me."

…

They're put in a small cubicle with a sink, cabinet, a rolling stool and chair that reminds Rachel a little of the dentist.

"So we're really doing this," Rachel comments as they wait.

"We are," Mike assures her. "And it'll be fine."

Brittany appears a moment later with another clerk that Rachel recognizes but can't place.

"So you two want your TiMERs removed, huh?" he asks.

Rachel nods and sees his nametag reads, Will.

"Well, who's first?"

Mike sits and holds his wrist out.

Looking down at his countdown timer, Will chuckles. "Wow, I can see why you--"

"Just take the damn thing off, all right?"

"Testy. All right."

Rachel watches as he pulls out a few tools that look like a mix of medical utensils and cooking supplies. And then a few moments later, the TiMER is removed from Mike's wrist.

"So?" Rachel asks.

"It's okay," Mike answers. "I feel… lighter, almost."

"Good. Okay," Rachel says. "My turn then."

"You're sure, Rachel?" Brittany questions. "I mean, you've always put so much faith in the TiMER. You just need to trust in it."

"Easy for you to say," Mike says, pointing to her TiMER reading 5 months, 3 weeks and 5 days. "You need to do this, Rach. Remember Santana?"

Rachel nods and sits in the chair.

"Oh, you poor dear," Will says. "That is tough. Hey is that one you're always talking about?"

Brittany nods. "I really thought she'd find her person, you know?"

"Can we just get this over with?" Rachel interrupts.

"If you're sure."

"I am," Rachel says.

"Okay then," Will says. "May I have your wrist?"

Just as Rachel is laying her wrist out for Mike to remove the TiMER, it beeps and turns on. Everyone watches in amazement as it starts counting down from 2 days, 13 hours and 34 minutes.

"Holy shit," Will mutters.

Rachel can only stare at her wrist.

"Do you still want it removed?" Brittany asks quietly.

"Of course she does," Mike says.

"I…"

"Because she's been waiting for this day," Brittany continues. "I don't know why she'd want to--"

"Because she already met her person, okay?"

"I need to think," Rachel says, jumping up. "I'm sorry Mike. I just…I need to go." She rushes out of the room and out of the store.

"Rach, wait," Mike calls after her.

"That'll be fifty-nine dollars for the removal," Will tells Mike.

…

Rachel knows she can't go back to the apartment because that's the first place that Mike will look for her. So she heads to the only place she can think of Brad's piano bar. She's not even sure if they'll be open this early, but if it is, Rachel figures she'll definitely be alone.

Thankfully it's opening as she arrives, so she orders a glass of wine and sits at the bar, staring at her TiMER.

…

Mike's beginning to feel like a bit of a leper. He hasn't seen Rachel since she ran out of the store and despite his supreme effort, he has yet to catch her at the apartment. He knows she's stopped by because her mail's been opened and things in her room have changed. He tries calling, but she's not answering.

On the other hand, he hasn't been able to see Quinn either. She's working, well, she's out of town actually, but since Quinn had mentioned it last week, he doesn’t feel like she's avoiding him exactly. Though, she has yet to return his call.

The only thing that Mike can do is wait for Saturday night and hope both woman show up.

…

Rachel is once again sitting at the bar of Brad's. It's fairly busy since it's Friday, but for once she's being left alone. She's spent the last hour staring at her wrist as it counts down. As the number click down the minutes and there are only minutes left, she wishes she felt half of the enthusiasm she thought she'd feel. Maybe she really has fallen for Santana.

…

Saturday evening, Rachel heads over to her parents' house. By the time she arrives, a lot of people have already arrived and she hopes her dad doesn't ream her out. It just took a lot of motivation for her to show up because it seems the most likely place she'll meet this so called soul mate.

"Hey sis," Mike greet.

"Oh. Hello, Mike."

"You okay?"

"I don't know," Rachel replies.

"It's still on," Mike comments.

"It is."

"You look sick to your stomach," Mike continues.

"It's how I feel."

"Well, maybe meeting Quinn will help settle your nerves?"

"Your special friend?" Rachel smirks. "Can't wait."

Having spotted the blonde enter just a moment ago, Mike drags Rachel towards her.

Just as he's standing in front of Quinn, about to introduce her to Rachel, both their wrists start to beep.

Because most people know what that sound means, they turn to see who might be meeting their soul mate for the first time.

Rachel can only stare at the blonde that has apparently captured her brother's attention. A moment later, her dad is behind her.

"Are you kidding me?" Mike exclaims. "How can--that can't be right."

"The TiMER is never wrong," Jacob says. "Why didn't you tell me your TiMER had started, Rachel?"

"I thought you didn't believe in the TiMER?" Mike asks Quinn.

She can only shrug as she stares at Rachel, who is in turn staring back.

"This is un-fucking-believable," Mike growls. "I'm outta here."

"Mike, wait," Quinn calls after him.

"Maybe you two should talk," Jacob offers. "You can use our room if you want, sweetie."

"Uh, thanks, dad."

Quinn nods and follows Rachel upstairs and into the master bedroom. Quinn sits on the edge of the bed while Rachel paces.

"Mike said you didn't believe in the TiMERs," Rachel starts.

"I didn't," Quinn replies. "I'm still not entirely sure why I got one. I just… I don't know. The fact that Mike was willing to wait twenty years to meet his person made me think that maybe it was worth considering."

"Well that's irony for you," Rachel says. "Because he had his removed so he could be with you."

"He what?"

"And you couldn't have just waited ten more minutes?" Rachel exclaims. "I was about to have mine taken off too and you had to go and ruin it."

"I didn't know," Quinn protests.

Rachel sinks onto the bed next to Quinn. "Do you have feelings for Mike?"

"I do." Quinn sighs. "Who did you almost do it for?"

"Oh god," Rachel groans. "She's a twenty-five year old in a band."

"The heart wants what the heart wants," Quinn says.

"I'm not sure what I want anymore," Rachel replies.

"So what do we do now?"

"I don't know."

…

A few days later, Rachel nervously knocks on Santana's apartment door. She's relieved when Santana answers, because she's so not in the mood for Puck's antics.

"Hey."

"Hi," Rachel replies. "May I come in?"

"Yeah, I guess." Santana steps aside and lets Rachel in. "Want something to drink?"

"I'm okay," Rachel says. "My, uh, TiMER turned on."

"Congratulations are in order than, I guess."

"It went off already, actually."

"Seriously?" Santana asks. "Jeez, don't talk to you for a week and all kinds of crazy shit happens."

"Apparently."

"So I suppose that means you're here to end things."

"I'm not actually."

"Wait, what?"

"I'd like to keep seeing you," Rachel says, holding up her wrist. "I took off the TiMER and I want to only date you."

"You can't mean that," Santana replies.

"Why not?"

"Before it was fine, when you didn't know who your soul mate is, but now that you know, how can you choose me instead?"

"Funny story," Rachel replies. "Turns out my soul mate is the woman my brother is seeing."

"Mike? Really?"

"How many brothers do you think I have?"

"Right. Course. But isn't that almost worse?" Santana questions. "I mean, you'll see her on a regular basis, especially since you and Mike live together."

"We've decided to be friends," Rachel answers.

"Friends?"

"Yes," Rachel replies. "After all, soul mate doesn't necessarily mean lover. Quinn and I could become best friends and gang up on Mike about things, but it doesn't mean we have to date."

"I thought that was the whole point of a TiMER," Santana says.

"I did too," Rachel admits. "But things change, people change, right?"

"I guess. I don't know if I can take that risk though."

"Please just consider it," Rachel pleas. "I was about to have it removed and choose you when it just started up. I'd already chose you. The TiMER just threw in something extra to consider. But I still choose you."

"I need to think," Santana says.

"Of course you do," Rachel agrees. "I'll go. Take as much time as you need. But please call me, no matter what. Okay?"

Santana nods. Rachel leans in and kisses her softly before leaving.

…

"This is weird," Mike says.

He's sitting at the kitchen table with Rachel and Quinn.

"I agree," Rachel says. "But I figured you wouldn’t believe it otherwise."

"So you're both telling me together? Isn't that sending a mixed message?"

Quinn shrugs. "It's an odd situation."

"So you guys are just going to become best friends?" Mike questions. "That's your grand plan?"

"No, it's our simple solution," Rachel replies. "We can't ignore what the TiMER implies, especially if we're in each other's lives because of you. And Quinn's said it before soul mate doesn't have to equal lover. Especially when we've both found people we connect with."

"What if things don't work out between us?" Mike asks. "Or you and Santana?"

"Then they won't work out," Rachel replies. "But I'm not giving up on Santana and I."

"What if she doesn't agree, but I do?" Mike asks.

"Well, then it'll be a little extra awkward," Quinn replies. "But it won't change the plan, Mike."

"You're sure?"

Rachel nods. "Quinn and I have discussed it at length and we think this really is the best solution."

Mike sighs. "I might need a couple days to digest this."

"Completely understandable," Rachel says.

"It is." Quinn stands. "I should go anyway. Rachel, I'll call you later?"

"Sounds lovely," Rachel replies. "I'll walk you out."

Mike watches the pair walk out of the kitchen and can only shake his head.

…

It takes Santana three days to call Rachel. They agree to meet for drinks to talk.

Rachel is already there when Santana arrives. She sits and finds a beer waiting for her.

"I didn't want to be late and have you think I stood you up," Rachel explains.

"I wouldn’t have thought that," Santana assures her.

They sip their drinks quietly for a moment.

"I, uh, I think I want to try," Santana says finally.

"Really?"

Santana nods. "I mean, even though you've met your soul mate, you're still choosing me and the fact that you were going to take it before it started, I guess that means something."

"It does," Rachel assures her. "It really does."

"Then we're going to do this," Santana says.

"How about a celebratory kiss then?"

Santana smiles and pulls Rachel towards her.

…

Quinn is at Brad's piano bar when Mike finds her.

"Hey," he says, sitting next to her.

"Mike. Hi."

"How did I know I'd find you at a bar?" Mike jokes.

"Our bar," Quinn counters.

"But it's still a bar," Mike replies.

"So I take it you decided," Quinn says.

Mike nods.

"Well?"

"You and Rachel have been hanging out?" Mike asks.

"We have," Quinn replies. "Talking, mostly, getting to know each other."

"That's nice. Rachel needs more friends."

"What about you and I?"

"So is there a spark between you?"

Quinn nods, nervously. "But the fact that she loves Santana makes it more of a personality spark."

"I'm still a little apprehensive about this whole thing," Mike admits. "But I really like you Quinn and I really do want to try."

"You do?"

"I do," Mike says. "I know there's going to be a lot of awkwardness, but I think you're worth it."

"I think you're worth it too," Quinn replies.

"Okay then."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

Epilogue

The Heart Wants What the Heart Wants - Prologue

2012-07-12T00:25:33Z

fic: Patience is a Virtue

2012-07-03T02:11:24Z

Title: Patience is a Virtue
Author: slacker_d
Pairing/Characters: Tori/Jade, Andre, Beck, Trina, Mr. and Mrs. Vega, Cat, Lane
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Tori tries to be patient as she waits for Jade to get over her anger.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: ~7,400
Spoilers: Not really.
A/N: Follows The Date. This is the final part. I'm sorry it took so long. I had no idea how I wanted to end this. Hopefully this is worth the wait.
2nd A/N: Unbeta’ed, so all mistakes are mine.

Stupidly, they didn’t discuss how to handle their relationship outside of themselves. Currently, Tori is standing at her locker and cursing herself. She doesn’t know how Jade wants to handle things in public. It’s not that she’s ashamed, but it’s a new school with people she doesn’t know yet and so she has no idea how they’ll react. Plus, Jade and Beck just broke up a week ago. Tori doesn’t know Beck too well yet, but he seems like a good guy and the idea that she swooped in and stole his girlfriend is a bit unsettling.

Tori's just thankful that she already told Andre about it, well at least about the shared history with Jade. She can only hope he'll help her through this, whatever this is.

"Hey Chica," Andre greets when Tori approaches his locker.

"Hey Andre."

He does a double take when he sees her and for a moment, Tori wonders if she forgot pants this morning or something.

"What?" she asks finally.

"You're happy about something," he replies. "Even though you look miserable. Did you profit from someone's bad luck?"

"Uh, sort of?"

"Explain."

"I took Jade out on a date last night," Tori tells him.

"Hot damn," Andre says, smiling, but quickly sobers. "But yeah, they just barely broke up."

"I know," Tori replies. "I was surprised that Jade didn't want more time."

"Well she and Beck were arguing a lot beforehand."

"And she told me she's still mad at me," Tori adds.

"But she still went out with you?" Andre asks. "That's weird."

"That's Jade."

"So you guys are dating?" Andre questions.

"I don't know," Tori shrugs. "That topic didn't exactly come up."

"You dog," Andre says. "Way to go for it."

"Uh… Thanks?"

The conversation is halted by Jade stalking to her locker.

"Here's your chance," Andre whispers.

"I don't know," Tori replies. "She looks pissed."

"Well now it's your job to deal with that," Andre reminds her.

With an apprehensive sigh, Tori approaches Jade.

"Hey Jade."

"What Vega?" Jade snaps.

"I just wanted to--"

"Well I don't want to hear it," Jade interrupts. "I'm not in the mood."

"But I thought that you and I--"

"I already told you that I was still mad," Jade hisses. "A date and fooling around isn't going to change that."

"Oh. Okay," Tori replies. She then slumps away returning to Andre who is leaning against Tori's locker and watching.

"Didn't go well?" he asks.

Tori shakes her head.

"Chicks," he sighs.

"Hey," Tori exclaims. "But yeah."

"So now what?" he asks.

"I guess I'm following Jade's lead," Tori replies.

"That sucks."

"Yeah, but what choice do I have?"

"None because you had to go and fall for Jade West," Andre tells her.

Tori just elbows him.

…

Jade picks a table by herself at lunch. She looks the angriest that Tori's ever seen her so she and Andre sit at another table.

"Hey, hey," Cat says sitting next to Tori.

"Hi Cat," Tori replies.

"Jade looks madder than she did last week," Cat observes.

"Yeah, she does," Andre agrees.

"Do you think she knows how many girls have already asked Beck out?" Cat questions.

"How many?" Tori asks.

"Well in third period, Beck said twenty," Cat answers.

"Holy chiz, seriously?" Andre exclaims.

"Maybe that's what set her off," Tori says.

"It probably didn't help," Andre agrees. "But I doubt that's the main reason."

"Yeah," Tori sighs. "You're probably right."

"Don't worry, Tori," Cat says. "I bet once Jade realizes how nice you are and that you didn't go after Beck, she'll be your friend."

"Don't count on it," Andre mutters.

"Hey guys."

Everyone looks up as Beck joins the table.

"Hey man," Andre says. "How are you doing?"

"Surviving."

"Sounds about right."

"How many girls have asked you out now?" Cat asks.

"Really Cat?"

She nods eagerly.

Beck sighs. "Twenty-six."

"Damn," Andre says.

"It's gotta be the hair," Tor says.

"Definitely," Andre agrees.

"Really guys?"

"You have awesome hair," Cat offers.

"You really do," Tori says.

"Can we please talk about something else?" Beck asks. "Please."

"Hi Beck," Trina says sitting next to Beck.

"Trina, leave him alone," Tori tells her.

"He's single now, so I can," Trina retorts. "Besides, you're one to talk since we all know that the whole thing is--hey. Ow!"

"Can I talk to you, sis?" Tori grabs Trina by the arm and drags her away.

When they're a safe distance from Beck, Tori lets go of Trina.

"What is your damage little sister?"

"You do not get to out me," Tori hisses. "And you certainly don’t get to tell Beck. That's for Jade or I to do."

"Take away all my fun," Trina pouts.

"Just go away," Tori says. "And you better not tell anyone about me and Jade."

"Or what? You'll sic Jade on me?"

"Yeah, I will," Tori replies. "And I'll also tell mom and dad about your date with that college senior last month."

"Fine," Trina huffs. "But you can't stop me from going after Beck."

"If you wanna make a fool of yourself, go ahead."

"As if I need your permission," Trina says, before flouncing off.

…

Tori is surprised by the doorbell ringing a few minutes after getting home. However, she's even more surprised to find Jade standing on her doorstep.

"Jade. Hi."

"Gonna let me in Tori?"

"Oh. Right." Tori steps aside and lets Jade in.

"What are you doing?" Jade asks, plopping onto the couch.

"Uh, nothing really. I just got home."

"Cool." Jade grabs the remote, turns on the TV and pats the couch next to her. "Join me."

"Uh, all right."

They watch TV for a few minutes before Tori has to asks, "So what? You're a complete bitch at school, but nice when we're alone?"

"Basically."

"Why?"

"Because I'm still mad at you," Jade replies. "Besides, I'm not ready to announce it quite yet."

"Why?"

Jade shrugs. "I'm just not, okay?"

Tori sighs. "Fine."

…

It continues for the rest of the week and Tori has never been so glad for the end of the school week.

"Get used to it," Andre says. "I figure dating Jade is mentally exhausting."

"But rewarding," Tori replies.

"But exhausting.

“You say that now,” Andre warns.

…

A week later, Tori is finding it difficult to remain optimistic while still being the subject of Jade's wrath. It doesn't always have the usual venom, but there's still plenty of anger in Jade's eyes. That worries Tori. Has she set herself up for heartbreak?

“You only have yourself to blame,” Trina says as they drive to school.

“How exactly is this my fault?” Tori scoffs.

“Getting involved with Jade West,” Trina replies. “It never ends well.”

“Never? That makes it sound like she’s dated like a dozen people, instead of just Beck.”

“And you, apparently.”

“Barely. Technically.”

“Well, it seems like you totally broke her heart, so you can’t blame her for being upset,” Trina says.

“Yeah, but being angry all the time at the person you’re dating seems, I don’t know, confusing.”

“Which Jade is,” Trina replies. “I still don’t see the problem.”

“Maybe you could be a little more supportive,” Tori tells her. “Especially since it means Beck’s free to date.”

“Whatever, little sis, if you want more support, buy another bra,” Trina says. “Trying to understand Jade is like driving with your eyes closed.”

“Who drives with their eyes closed?”

“It’s a metaphor,” Trina replies as she pulls into a parking space.

“A really bad one,” Tori says, getting out the car.

“Uh huh, whatever. Good luck with it,” Trina replies, heading inside and leaving Tori thinking in the parking lot.

…

“You should just tell her,” Andre tells Tori that afternoon over the phone.

Normally, Andre would be over hanging out, but since it’s likely that Jade will show up, he chose to just call instead.

Tori sighs. “I know.”

“So? You’ll do it when she shows up.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” Tori says. “Because what if I piss her off too much and she breaks up with me?”

“Uh, how much angrier can she get?” Andre asks. “She was a complete gank to you all day today.”

“She’s like that every day,” Tori replies.

“Yeah, but today was really bad.”

“Maybe,” Tori agrees. “But I feel like I’m building up a resistance to it.”

“That’s definitely not good.”

“No, it is,” Tori insists. “I can build up an immunity and soon it’ll just roll right off me.”

“Or she’ll just get meaner,” Andre replies. “She can be pretty vicious when she wants to be.”

“Why does everyone make Jade sound so intolerable?”

“We’re not,” Andre says. “We’re just concerned. And who’s everyone?”

“You and Trina.”

“That should be a sign.”

“What should be a sign?” Tori asks.

“If your crazy, nutso sister thinks it’s bad, then it’s probably bad,” he replies.

“Trina is your yardstick on this?” Tori exclaims. “Maybe you’re not the one I should be talking to about this.”

“Who else are you going to talk to?” Andre asks. “Besides, all I’m saying that Trina is certifiable, so if she thinks it’s bad, it’s bad.”

“Still, with her track record, I don’t like putting any stock in anything she advises me to do.”

“All I’m saying is that this…thing had been going on too long. If Jade is still mad at you, maybe you guys shouldn’t be dating.”

“Maybe.”

“Just think about it, chica.”

…

Jade shows up a few minutes after Tori hangs up with Andre. For some reason, it makes Tori feel guilty, because no one’s supposed to know; though the fact that Andre does know, doesn’t seem to bother Jade, so there really is no reason to feel bad. Tori just wishes everything could be simple, that there was no for secrecy. Maybe it's because she's such a bad liar.

…

Later, once Jade’s left, Tori is debating whether or not to just go to bed when there’s a knock on her bedroom door.

Not wanting to deal with Trina, Tori asks, “Who is it?”

“Mom.”

“Come in,” Tori replies.

Looking concerned, Tori’s mom enters and sits on the end of Tori’s bed. “Honey, how are things?”

“Uh, they’re fine.”

“I haven’t heard you mention any cute boys lately,” Holly says. “I thought for sure, I’d be hearing about the people at your new school.”

“Um, I guess, I hadn’t noticed.”

“Is there something you want to talk about?”

“Like?”

Holly sighs. “Trina may have mentioned some romantic… issues.”

“Of course she did,” Tori replies.

“She does care, you know.”

“Yeah, it shows,” Tori retorts.

“So there’s nothing you want to talk about?” Holly asks.

“How long is a person allowed to be mad about—uh, something?”

“It depends on the fight, I guess.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Does this have anything to do with that new friend of yours, that’s here all the time?”

“Maybe.”

“Sweetie, if you like her, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I know.”

“And if you want to date her, that’s okay too,” Holly continues.

“I know.” Tori waits for her mom to say more. When she doesn’t, Tori asks, “What if we already dated and broke up? And now we’re dating again, which is why she’s upset?”

“What? When?”

“Before Hollywood Arts,” Tori answers.

“So you’re gay?”

Tori shrugs. “Bi, at least.”

“And when were you planning on sharing this information with me?”

“Uh, as soon as I figured out the situation with Jade?”

Holly raises an eyebrow.

“…or never?”

“At least promise me you’re being safe.”

“What? We haven’t—we aren’t, I mean… She can’t get me pregnant, you know.”

“I know,” Holly smirks.

“Hey, no teasing when we’re having a mother/daughter moment,” Tori protests.

“As your mother, I have the right to overturn those rules.”

“Are you going to tell dad?”

“No, I think that’s something the two of you should discuss without any involvement from me.”

“Fine,” Tori sighs.

“It’ll be fine, sweetie,” Holly says. “We both just want you to be happy.”

“Thanks mom.”

“You’re welcome, honey. Sweet dreams.”

…

Tori spends most of Friday thinking. She knows Andre’s probably right; something needs to change in the relationship before it reaches the level of abuse. She also knows she needs to confront Jade, but just can’t make herself. The problem is, since Jade isn’t ready to announce anything at school, it’s difficult to discuss anywhere at Hollywood Arts. But once they’re out of school, Jade is so much nicer, it’s hard to remember exactly what Tori was concerned about; the kissing helps her forget too.

…

Because Tori’s parents are out of town for the weekend, again and Trina is obsessed with this new guy, Troy and will most likely be stalking him all weekend, Jade drives Tori home from school on Friday and plans to spend the weekend.

They’re sprawled out on the couch when Tori’s phone rings. She answers it without checking the ID.

"What are you doing tonight?" Andre asks.

"Uh, Jade's spending the weekend, so--"

"Stop right there," Andre interrupts. "Because I don't want to know anything else, besides here's what you guys are doing night. There's this thing. And as my best friend, I need you to come with me."

"A thing?"

"I met this girl, Tasha today and she's an artist, a sculptor. And she got into the LAHSAA annual show, which is tonight. She invited me to show up and I need you to come with me."

"Right. Course not," Tori agrees. "What about Jade?"

"Bring her."

"I'll ask."

"She's coming," Andre says. "I'll pick you guys up at seven."

"See you then."

"Who was that?" Jade asks. "And what are you making me do?"

"Andre met this girl," Tori explains.

"Say no more, wingman," Jade interjects. "I understand."

"You do?"

"Course. He can't go by himself. That would be weird."

"You're coming too, remember?"

"Figured as much," Jade replies. "Can't have anyone think you guys are together."

"So they'll automatically think you and I are?" Tori questions.

"They will after I kiss you in the middle of the gallery."

"You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I?"

…

When Beck arrives at the gallery, it’s extremely crowded and he wonders if it was a bad idea to meet Caitlin here instead of picking her up; trying to find her in this sea of people is going to be difficult. He pushes his way in and begins searching.

…

“Would you relax?” Jade says as she watches Tori tensely pace. It's almost seven. “What are you so stressed about?”

“Nothing,” Tori replies.

“Uh huh.”

“Really,” Tori says. “I just have a bad feeling is all.”

“A bad feeling? Really? Ominous, much?”

“I wasn’t trying to—I’m just saying I can be tense if I want.”

“Uh huh, whatever you say.”

“Just be quiet and let me pace,” Tori retorts.

…

Still looking for Caitlin, Beck accidently bumps into someone. He turns around to apologize.

“Hey, sorry man—hey Andre.”

“Beck! Hey man. How come you’re here?”

“Same reason as you man, I’m sure,” Beck replies. “A girl.”

“Oh. Cool. So that means you’re ready to move on?”

“Uh, I guess.”

“And it’s cool if the ex is moving on too?” Andre continues.

“She is?” Beck questions.

“So is your date one of the artists?” Andre asks.

“Uh, no,” Beck replies. “Her sister is, though.”

“Cool, cool. Well, I’m gonna see if I can find Tasha. See you later.”

“Later, Andre.”

…

Tori and Jade are wandering the gallery when Tori receives a text from Andre.

911! Beck’s HERE! Has a date.

“Uh, Jade?”

“Yeah, Tori?”

“How do you feel about Beck knowing about us?” Tori asks.

“Um, fine, I guess.”

“Good,” Tori says. “Because he’s here.”

“Of course he is,” Jade chuckles, dryly. She tightens her grasp around Tori’s hand. “It’ll be fine. Really.”

“Okay.”

“Besides, I’d rather have the confrontation here than at school.”

“I guess that’s true,” Tori allows.

“Don’t worry so much, Vega,” Jade continues. “It’ll be fine.”

“Right.”

…

When Beck finally finds Caitlin, his mind is elsewhere; he’s still trying to decipher Andre’s behavior earlier. From Jade’s mood at school, Beck would never guess that she was dating again.

Then again, he’s never been quite able to completely get Jade. Certainly, he did more than most people, but he always felt like she was holding back, or at the very least, hiding something from him.

He supposes Andre’s behavior means that Jade came with Andre and has a date of her own.

It’s weird, because Beck would have thought Andre would ask Tori to come with. Maybe she was busy.

…

"You're being ridiculous," Jade tells Tori. "Shouldn't I be the one freaking out?"

"You are freaking out," Tori replies. "You're just better at hiding it than me."

"I am?"

"You are," Tori nods. "You forget. I know you."

"Well, at least you finally admitted that I'm better at something than you," Jade smirks.

"One of the very few things."

"We'll see."

"Jade."

Tori whips around to find Beck and a cute blonde standing in front of them. Jade turns more leisurely.

"Hello Beckett."

"Tori."

"Hey, uh, Beck."

"I'm Caitlin," the blonde says.

"Nice to meet you," Tori replies.

"So I'm surprised to see you guys here," Beck says.

"Uh, well, Andre asked… so here we are."

"Curious that he'd ask you both," Beck continues. "Especially since I thought you hated her."

"Believe what you want, Beckett," Jade retorts.

"It's complicated," Tori says.

Beck grimaces. "Uh huh."

An awkward silence falls over the four of them which Caitlin breaks.

"So, uh, you guys don't have a piece here?"

"No," Tori replies. "Our friend Andre asked us to come with because he felt weird coming alone."

"Oh."

"He asked both of you?" Beck questions.

"Uh huh," Tori nods.

"Really?"

"Yep."

"Because I'm finding that really hard to believe since the two--"

"Oh my god, Beck, we're dating," Jade interrupts. "She's the reason I broke up with you."

Even though the room doesn't become silent at her announcement, Tori feels like it does. The look that Beck is giving her is one she never expected to see from him.

"You ended things because of her?!" Beck growls.

"What of it?"

"She's been a complete bitch to you for weeks," Beck tells Tori. "And she poured coffee on you that first day."

"I know."

"It was iced," Jade adds.

"And what? That was some sort of foreplay?"

"Don't be absurd, Beckett," Jade says. "It was just, uh…"

"It was a sour history coming to a head," Tori says.

"History?" Beck questions. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Is this really a conversation you want to have now?" Jade asks. "Here?"

"No," Beck grumbles. "But we're talking later."

"Whatever."

"If you want," Tori says. Jade elbows her. "What?"

"Should be go find Casey's paintings?" Beck asks Caitlin.

"Uh, sure. Nice meeting you guys, I guess."

Jade grabs Tori's hand, squeezing it tightly as they watch the pair walk away.

…

Andre's coming out of the bathroom when he runs into Beck.

"Hey man."

"I suppose you knew?" he asks.

"Uh… Yeah, but Tori just blurted it out. I don't think she, uh, meant to hurt anyone."

"Uh huh. Right. I suppose I'm the last to know."

"More like the third?" Andre replies.

"Who else? Robbie and Cat couldn't keep a secret to save their lives."

"Uh, Tori's sister."

"Figures."

"Beck, man, listen. I'm sorry. It wasn't my place to say anything."

"I know."

"And I told them they had to tell you before they told anyone else," Andre continues.

"Thanks, I guess."

"Listen, Beck," Andre says. "I know you're hurt and I'm sorry. But you said it yourself, Jade was holding something back. Now you know."

"What that she likes girls?" Beck questions. "I already knew that."

"I meant that she and Tori have history that ended badly."

"They mentioned that," Beck agrees.

"And they're still trying to work through it."

"Is Tori some sort of masochist?" Beck asks. "Because I don't know why she would put up with how Jade's been treating her."

"Tori thinks she deserves it," Andre replies. "For breaking Jade's heart. I don't get it either."

Beck sighs. "I guess that means I don't need to talk to them about it?"

"It's up to you, dude," Andre replies. "I mean, it could help."

"Maybe."

"And besides, you're moving on. Caitlin, right?"

"Right," Beck agrees.

"Don't let all their ridiculous drama ruin your chance. I mean, before you ran into them, things were going well, right?"

"They were."

"So just… have a good time tonight and deal with things later."

"Yeah, okay."

"We'll talk tomorrow," Andre says. "Figure it out."

"Thanks, dude."

…

"We should have just drove separately," Jade says as she lounges on a bench.

"Probably," Tori agrees. "Though I admit, there's a chance that we would have just stayed home."

"Good," Jade replies. "Then the whole scene with Beck could have been avoided."

"I thought you were okay with that," Tori says. "After all, aren't you glad it happened here and not at school?"

"Yeah, I am. But that's also not how I wanted him to find out."

"He was on a date," Tori points out. "It's not like you're rubbing it in his face or whatever."

"Maybe not, but I can't think of anything that could ruin a date more."

"Or maybe it'll get him sympathy points," Tori replies. "I'm the mean new girl who snuck in and stole his girlfriend right from under his nose."

"Uh huh, probably," Jade says. "All it would take is for him to look all morose and hurt. I mean, he already has girls literally throwing themselves at him."

"I think Cindy really did trip the other day," Tori says.

"You're so naive, Tori," Jade replies. "She may have really tripped, but it was totally planned."

"You'd have guys throwing themselves at you if you didn't threaten to cut off the first five's balls," Tori points out.

"You want guys to ask me out?"

"Of course not," Tori replies. "But you sounded so bitter that I just wanted to--"

"Well stop it," Jade interrupts. "I may be a gank sometimes, but I don't cheat."

"Good to know."

…

"You ladies ready to go?"

Both look up from the phones to find Andre wearing the biggest grin either has ever seen.

"Bout freaking time," Jade says, standing and stretching.

"I take it, things went well," Tori adds, checking the time on her cell.

"It did indeed."

"Great," Jade snaps. "Tell us about it as you're driving us home."

"Someone's cranky," Andre says, watching her stomp to his car.

"Well, you know, the Beck thing," Tori tells him.

"Yeah, I figured. I talked to him about it a little."

"How mad is he?"

"More hurt, I think," Andre says.

"Yeah, he seemed… baffled by the situation," Tori agrees.

"I don't blame him," Andre replies as they reach his car and Jade climbs into the front seat. "I feel the same way, sometimes."

"Me too, actually," Tori tells him, climbing into the back.

…

The next morning Tori is woken up the ringing of an unfamiliar cell phone. She blinks a few times, trying to locate the sound. She tries to roll over, but finds herself being pulled closer to Jade, who is apparently still asleep.

Jade grumbles in her sleep, though Tori can't decipher it. But since the ringing has stopped, Tori decides getting out of bed is a silly idea and burrows deeper into her bed and by extension, Jade's embrace.

She's just about to doze off again when the ringing resumes. Groaning to herself, she lightly elbows Jade.

"Jade," she whispers. "Jade, wake up."

"Don't wanna."

"Your phone's ringing."

"Don't care."

"It's been ringing constantly though."

Jade sighs. "Fine. Get it and turn it off."

"What? But what if it's important?" Tori asks. "And why do I have to?"

"Because you woke me up."

"Well, you cell woke me up."

"Not my fault," Jade retorts. "And it's not ringing now."

"It'll start up again, I bet."

"Go get it or I'm pushing you out of bed," Tori says.

"Whatever you say, Vega."

Jade's cell starts ringing again.

"See, I told you. Go shut it off."

"Fine," Jade huffs, throwing the blankets off. She finds her phone next to her bag and answers it. "What?!"

Tori watches her nod and uh huh a few times before hanging up. She then turns her phone off.

"Who was that?"

"Cat," Jade replies. "She was worried. Guess Beckett changed his Slap status to in a relationship and Cat was concerned.

"That's nice."

"Not when I'm sleeping, it's not," Jade retort, climbing back into bed. "Though now that I'm awake…"

"I thought you were tired," Tori replies, smirking as Jade straddles her.

"Less talking, more kissing."

…

Beck shows up at Tori's house Saturday afternoon looking to talk. He and Jade head outside to talk on the patio and Tori tries to concentrate on the trashy reality show on TV. At first it's fairly easy, but when Beck begins raising his voice and Jade counters just as loudly, Tori's forced to turn up the volume on the TV. She's not sure she should be hearing any of this.

When they become so loud, that the TV isn't enough to cover their conversation, Tori heads up to her room in search of her headphones. When she comes back downstairs, she can clearly hear what they're screaming at each other.

"You are unbelievable!" Beck shouts.

"Yeah, well, it's not your problem anymore, is it?!"

"No, but maybe Tori doesn't deserve--"

"Don't you dare bring her into this, Beckett!"

Not wanting to hear anymore, Tori quickly finds some music on her PearPhone and plugs in the headphones.

…

Caught up in the music, Tori jumps when someone taps her on the shoulder. Pulling off her headphones, lets Tori hear Jade chuckling at her antics.

"Sorry," Jade says, not sounding sorry at all.

"S'it's all right," Tori replies. She looks around. "Beck left?"

"Yeah, there's only so much arguing we can do, you know?"

"I guess."

Jade flops onto Tori's lap. "Don't worry about it."

"I'm not."

"Uh huh," Jade says. "Don't worry. Beck and I talked it out."

"Yelled it out, you mean."

"Whatever. We figured things out."

"Good. Does this mean I can change my Slap status to in a relationship?"

"If it's that big of deal, yes," Jade huffs.

"Yay. Thanks."

…

The rest of the weekend turns out better. They order Thai food and watch movies. And they talk, really talk, which they haven't quite had the chance to do yet. With Jade really letting go of her anger, Tori feels like maybe they have a chance, even if everyone at school reacts badly, Tori thinks she can deal.

"What are you smirking about?" Jade asks as she crawls into bed.

"I'm happy, okay?"

"Pshw," Jade scoffs. "You're always happy."

"Hardly," Tori shrugs. "But this might be one of my favorite moments ever."

"Mine too."

…

Sunday morning, they're lazy. Since they were up so late talking, they sleep past noon and stumble downstairs. Jade makes coffee while Tori digs around the fridge for food.

They're eating eggs and toast when Trina comes running down the stairs. She barely acknowledges them as she rushes out the door.

"What was that about?"

"With Trina, it could be a boy or an audition or, I don't know."

"So that means she'll be gone for a while, right?"

"Probably."

"And your parents aren't due back till later, right?"

"Tonight, actually," Tori replies. "They said I might be asleep."

"Perfect."

…

Jade's suggestion is that they spend the day on the couch being lazy.

"How is this different than what we did last night?" Tori questions.

"We're in our pajamas," Jade replies.

"Still."

"Tomorrow we go to school," Jade says.

"Yes, as we have for many Mondays past," Tori replies.

"And we'll have to deal with people," Jade continues. "So I just want the rest of today to be about you and me, because I have a feeling, we won't have that luxury later."

"That's oddly both sweet and cynical," Tori says.

"Is that a yes, then?"

"Of course it's a yes."

…

They start out arguing over what to watch on TV and literally fighting over the remote. Tori wonders how she ended up on the floor with Jade above her, holding down her right arm as Jade flips through the channels.

"I am not watching The Worst Car Crashes Caught on Tape," Tori protests.

"Too bad," Jade says as she tosses the remote.

"Like I can't find the remote," Tori retorts.

"Try it," Jade replies.

"Will you at least get off me," Tori asks.

"You weren't complaining last night," Jade tells her.

"Well, I wasn't laying on the floor then, was I?"

"True," Jade agrees. "But how do I know if I let you up, that you won't try and change the channel?"

"You don't," Tori tells her. "But you're going to let me up, anyway."

"I am, now, am I?"

"You are," Tori says. "Or I'll have to resort to extreme measures."

"You do realize that you're not even a little threatening, right?"

"Shut up, I can be menacing."

"Ha!"

"Yeah, well, how about this, then?" Tori grabs Jade by the waist and using her own weight, flips them, so Tori's now on top. "I might not be scary, but I can still take you."

"Oh, you so did not say that," Jade threatens.

"What are you going to do about it?"

"This," Jade says.

She grabs Tori's shirt and pulls her into a kiss, which Tori eagerly returns. As Tori relaxes a bit above her, Jade lets her hands slide down to Tori's ass. And just like that Tori is once more underneath Jade, though she finds she really doesn't care as Jade lets Tori push her shirt over her head.

"I told you, you can't take me," Jade smirks.

"Totally worth it," Tori pants. "Anytime, you want to take off your shirt, I--"

"I know, perv. You can't keep your eyes off my chest."

"Well," Tori says as she lets her hands tease Jade's nipples. "Do you blame me?"

Jade's smirk gets wider and then turns into a groan when Tori's fingers are replaced with her mouth.

…

Too involved in Jade's breasts, Tori misses the front door opening. The gasp and sound of a suitcase hitting the floor, quickly draws her attention.

Both girls scramble for their shirts as Tori's parents stand there, staring.

"Mom. Dad. Hi," Tori says, once she's dressed. "You're, uh, home early."

"We caught an earlier flight," Holly says.

"Right. Course. Um, you guys remember, Jade right?"

"Nice to see you again Mr. and Mrs. Vega," Jade mutters, blushing.

"I wish I could say the same," David says.

"Yeah," Tori says. "So we're going to get dressed now." She then drags Jade up to her room to change.

…

When Tori and Jade return downstairs, both her parents are sitting on the couch waiting. They both sit on the other side, waiting.

"So I'm assuming you two worked things out," Holly says.

"Um, I guess so," Tori replies.

"You knew about this?" David asks.

"Not the specifics," Holly tells him. "I was also assured that you two weren't having sex."

Jade fights a blush as Tori protests, "We're not."

"And yet from your attire, earlier, I'm assuming Jade spent the night," Holly says.

"She did," Tori admits.

"And you expect me to believe that the two of you didn't--"

"Please don’t finish that sentence," Tori interrupts.

"I agree," David says.

"And no, we didn't," Tori finishes.

"But you two are dating now," Holly continues.

"Yes. Mom, dad, Jade and I are dating."

David lets out a harsh chuckle.

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner," Tori continues. "But I still didn't completely know where things were going and I didn't want to say anything, if there wasn't anything to say."

"I see," David says. "And yet, your mother knew?"

"I may have made some more vague comments about the situation," Tori admits.

"And you didn't see fit to tell me?" he asks Holly.

"If she can't tell you or I properly, then she's going to have a tough time, don't you think?" Holly asks.

"I suppose."

"You're mad," Tori says.

"Correction," David replies. "I'm disappointed that you felt you couldn't tell me."

"There wasn't anything to tell, until yesterday," Tori says. "I swear."

"Uh huh."

"She's not lying, Mr. Vega," Jade pipes up. "I was being a bit of a, uh, witch about things, but we worked most of it out this weekend."

"So I saw."

"I apologize about that," Jade continues. "But we didn't think you'd be back until later, and, uh, we sort of got carried away."

"That seems like an understatement."

"Again, I apologize, sir," Jade says. "It's just that Tori here is a bit irresistible."

"Awww, thanks, Jade," Tori says, leaning into her.

"And you do not get to tell Andre or Cat I said that," Jade whispers. "Or else."

"Don't worry," Tori whispers back. "They probably wouldn't believe me anyway."

"That's true," Jade chuckles.

"Girls, now is not the time," Holly interrupts.

"Sorry mom." Tori fidgets for a moment. "So am I in trouble?"

David and Holly share a long glance before David says, "No. You're not in trouble. But I do think it's time for Jade to go home."

"Yes sir."

"And I'll be walking her out to her car," David continues. "Safety and what not."

"Of course," Jade gulps.

"Dad."

"Considering the circumstances, should you really be taking that tone with me, Tori?"

"Sorry dad."

"Right. Say your goodbyes and then Jade and I are going to have a talk."

Tori quickly pulls Jade outside for some privacy.

"Well that was a good way to kill the mood," Jade snarks.

"It could have gone worse, I guess," Tori says.

"For you maybe," Jade replies. "Your dad wants to have a talk with me."

"It's fine," Tori tells her. "He does that. It's just the usual, hurt my daughter and I will throw you in jail spiel."

"That doesn't make me feel better, Vega."

"You'll be fine, Jade."

"I better be," Jade grumbles.

"You will be." Tori leans in for a goodbye kiss. "Drive me to school tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I suppose I can do that."

…

Jade watches Tori walk back inside and almost immediately Mr. Vega is standing in front of her.

"Jade."

"Mr. Vega."

"So you're dating Tori?"

"Yes sir."

"And you're going to be good to her?"

"I plan to, sir," Jade replies.

"Good. Because I'd hate to see my baby girl hurt," he continues. "As a cop, I may have to take extreme measures if that were to ever happen."

"It won't," Jade assures him. "I fell for her the first day I met her."

"Glad to hear it. I'll be keeping an eye on you Jade."

"Yes sir."

"You may go."

"Bye Mr. Vega."

"Goodbye Jade."

…

"I'm glad things worked out, honey," Holly tells Tori as David walks Jade out.

"Thanks mom."

"I'm not sure that I approve of what we just walked in on--"

” Mom."

"Don't mom me young lady," Holly says. "You're still young. You have time. Just because Jade can't get you pregnant, doesn't mean it's still not a big deal."

"I know that."

"I know you do, honey," Holly says. "But it's sometimes difficult to remember in the heat of the moment."

"Mom, I'm going to be uncomfortably frank with you because I really need for this conversation to stop," Tori tells her.

"Okay."

"Jade spent Friday and Saturday night here and we didn't have sex. We both know we're not ready. Okay?"

Holly stares at Tori, who tries not to flinch too much under her gaze. "Fine," she huffs finally. "I'll drop it. But I meant what I said, Tori. Take your time. There's no hurry."

Tori nods. She wonders what her mom would think if she knew that she and Jade have technically been going extremely slow, at least in Tori's mind since they met so long ago. It probably wouldn't help. But it does make her chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Holly asks, suspiciously.

"I just never thought I'd be having this conversation with you. Agreed?"

Holly smiles. "Agreed."

…

Having made Jade change her Slap page status to in a relationship, Tori wonders if people will realize that they're together. Somehow, she doubts it. Arriving together at school will probably be a bigger clue.

"Would you chill out?" Jade says as she drives. "Hollywood Arts is a performing arts high school. No one cares."

"I know. That's not why I'm nervous."

"Well?" Jade growls after Tori doesn't continue.

"I'm worried that everyone's going to think I slipped in and stole you out from under Beck's nose."

"What am I? A toy? And who cares what they think?" Jade asks.

"I'm new," Tori replies. "I'm still trying to make a good impression."

"Why?"

"Because."

"The only impression that matters around here is your talent. And you've got more than enough of that. So relax."

"Thanks."

"It'll be fine," Jade continues. "Beck and I talked it out--"

"Shouted it out."

"So things between us should be civil." Jade finishes.

"You're right."

"Cat and Robbie won't care. Andre's obviously fine with it. So what's the big deal?"

"I don't know."

Jade groans.

"It's just… I never expected to see you again."

"Me either."

"It just feels surreal is all," Tori says.

"You're certainly dramatic enough for a performing arts high school," Jade grumbles.

…

Jade is at her locker when Cat comes bouncing up to her.

"Hi Jade."

"Cat."

Jade waits for Cat to begin a tirade about something, but the red head doesn't say anything. Jade can hear her still bouncing excitedly next to her though and tries to ignore it. Finally, she can't take it.

"What?"

"Did you and Beck get back together?"

"What? No. Why would you ask that?"

"Well, I just thought since you changed your relationship status too and you weren't that upset when I called this weekend, that maybe you guys got back together."

"Well, we didn't."

"Sooo… You're dating someone though right?"

"Hey Jade. Cat."

"Hi Tori."

"Took you long enough," Jade says.

"I couldn't find my math book."

"Uh huh, whatever you say, dear."

"Really?"

"Would you prefer darling instead?" Jade asks. "Or how about sweetie pie."

"I'd prefer to be called by my name, actually," Tori retorts.

"Oh my god," Cat interrupts.

"What now Cat?"

"You guys are dating," she exclaims.

"We are," Tori smiles.

"Yay! I have to go tell people." And then she's gone.

"She has to go tell people?" Tori asks Jade.

Jade shrugs. "When she has good news, she likes to share it."

"Well, I'm glad she considers it good news," Tori says, watching the red head bound down the hall.

…

Lunch is weird. Tori isn't too surprised when Andre and Cat join her and Jade, but she does a double take when Beck sits down on the other side of Jade. Maybe their shouting match the other day really did smooth things out between them. Jade does seem to do better with some conflict in a relationship. Tori wonders if that'll be true for her as well.

They chat about class, Sikowitz's latest crazy assignment, who's going to parts in the Fall show and oddly, ping pong. Tori mostly just eats as she watches her tablemates and enjoys the press of Jade against her side. It's a much more pleasant lunch than she'd expected.

…

Tori stares at the note again as she sits on the couch in Lane's office. She still can't figure out what Lane would want to talk to her about. She's been at Hollywood Arts long enough that an introductory session seems unlikely. And she certainly hasn't gotten into any trouble.

She lets out a sigh of relief when Lane shows up because that means the waiting is over; she's not the most patient person ever.

"Hello Tori."

"Hi," Tori replies nervously.

"I suppose you're wondering why I've called you in."

Tori nods.

"Well, as our newest, yet oddly recruited student, I thought it was time to check in with you. So, how are things going?"

"Oh. They're going fine."

"Your classes are good?" Lane asks.

"They're fine."

"A bit different than your last school, uh, Sherwood, right?"

Tori nods. "A bit. But I've adjusted."

"Good. Good. And no one's been giving you any trouble?"

"Um, not really."

"Really?"

"Yes, really." When Lane doesn't continue, Tori can't help but ask, "What is this really about?"

"Are you sure it's such a good idea to be dating Jade West after how she's been treating you the last few weeks?"

"What?!"

"I'm just looking out for you Tori," Lane replies.

"How is my dating life any of your business?" Tori asks.

"As guidance counselor, it's my job to ensure no one's going off the deep end," Lane explains.

"And you think my dating Jade is a sign of me… going off the deep end?"

Lane nods.

"Well it's not," Tori replies. "I know Jade seems harsh, but I'm fine. Really."

Lane studies her for a moment. It feels endless to Tori as she sits there and tries not to squirm under his gaze.

"All right," he says finally. "If you're sure."

"I am."

"You may go then."

Tori jumps up and runs out of the room before Lane changes his mind.

…

"Jeez," Jade says as Tori slumps into her car. "I figured you'd be in a better mood considering how well today went."

"I was until Lane called me into his office," Tori replies as Jade burns rubber out of the parking lot.

"What'd he call you in?" Jade asks. "You're too boring to merit punishment."

"Thanks."

"Whatever miss goody two shoes."

"He had some concerns," Tori continues.

"Concerns?"

"Apparently dating you is a sign of insanity," Tori retorts. "You think he did the same thing to Beck when you guys first started going out?"

"No," Jade replies. "Beck would have said something. It's probably because you're so nice and I'm not."

"That doesn't make me crazy," Tori protests. "Plus he kept me waiting for like twenty minutes."

"Don't worry about it," Jade says. "I have yet to be pulled into Lane's office for a legitimate reason."

"How many times has he called you down?" Tori asks.

"This year? Four, I think."

"For what?"

"Threaten to cut off one person's finger because they keep poking you and suddenly you have issues."

"Uh, well, I can see why that might upset some people," Tori says.

"It's not like I actually did it," Jade replies. "Plus he totally deserved it."

Tori isn't sure how to respond to that. "If you say so, Jade."

…

Jade has a group project for history to work on, so she drops Tori off at her house after an extended make out session. Tori actually feels like she's floating as she enters the house. She glides to the fridge, looking for something to drink.

"So it's finally official."

Tori looks up from her juice to find a smirking Trina in front of her.

"It is," Tori nods.

"Good for you, sis," Trina says. "Maybe you're not a pushover after all."

"Thanks?" Tori then notices that Trina is holding a carton of eggs and several cans of V-8. "What are you doing?"

"I just found this recipe online. It's supposed to be really good for your voice," Trina explains.

Tori watches wordlessly as Trina pulls out the blender and pours three cans of V-8 in it. Next, she adds six eggs. Finally, she adds some Cayenne pepper.

"You're really going to drink that?" Tori asks, disgusted.

"Over five hundred people swear by it," Trina replies.

"How do you know that they're telling the truth?" Tori questions. "Or that they're not idiots?"

"You need to have more faith in people, Tori."

"Whatever you say Trina," Tori replies, grabbing her juice and heading for her room.

As she reaches her bedroom door, Tori can't help but laugh at the howl of disgust Trina lets out as she attempts her drink.