It was a morning like every other in the recent past of

Quinn’s life.

The alarm clock woke her up next to a certain

brunette who, as usual, mumbled “too early for noise”
as she pressed her face deeper in to her pillow. Quick
quieted the machine and laid there for a moment,
looking at the ceiling of their bedroom, trying to get
courage to start her day. Then, she finally sighed and
sat up. She leaned for a quick kiss on the brunette’s
neck, before jumping of bed in direction to their
bathroom.

She did her usual shower routine that took her no

more than 10 minutes. It had been years and years of
perfecting her technique to make her showers shorter,
but she had finally mastered the process and she was
able to do it all in one third of the time she usually
took.

After stepping out of the shower, she involved her

body in the most fluffy, comfy and lovely bathrobe in
the world – white and smooth as feathers – and she
blow dried her hair. Then she applied some products
and lotions – to her hair; to her body – and finalized
with perfume.

Back inside their room, Quinn fussed about what to

dress. Again, nothing unusual. She decided on grey
round neck dressed paired with light blue earrings
and black heels. Once the outfit was on, she had
another idea, and finally settled with a gorgeous
simple black top, that tied on her back, perfect to
accentuate all of her curves (because even though
she was in a committed relationship, a fashion
journalist has to look good, always), thigh pair of
jeans, long bronze earrings and black pumps.

Then she did her make up – only the basics; the lip
gloss she would apply right before leaving the house
leanings towards the entrance mirror – and left the
room.

As always, when Quinn entered the living room after

waking up, she turned the TV on, on the morning
news, before stepping inside the kitchenette and
making some coffee for herself. As the coffee was
being made, the anchor was introducing something
scandalous a politician had done on the Congress,
the day before. Quinn stared at the TV,
absentmindedly, leaning against the counter, already
thinking about the work she was going to do that day,
until the coffee machine announced fresh coffee.

She turned her back to the TV screen as she

searched for her mug – the one from where she drank
coffee every morning – and she poured the substance
in it. A sip triggered a pleasuring feeling, as the coffee
ran through her veins.

Quinn turned herself back towards the TV screen,

noticing that the anchor was now announcing
something else…

…and that was when Quinn realized that that wasn’t

going to be a regular morning.

…Judge strikes down Prop 8, allows Gay marriage in

California, stating that the ruling is by no means the
state’s first milestone, nor the last, on America’s road
to equality and freedom for all people…

Quinn’s air is knocked out of her lungs. For a

moment, she stares open-mouthed incredulously at
the anchor. She can’t believe that that’s finally
happening.

She rests the mug on the counter. Breaths in. Calms

herself down. That’s the moment she’s been waiting
for an entire year. She checks her watch. She has to
leave in 5 minutes, if she wants to arrive to work on
time. Quinn quickly ponders her options: leaving to
work now and doing it tonight, when Rachel arrived
home, or just doing it now.

Quinn takes a moment to process it all. She has

waited for an entire year, can’t she wait a few more
hours?
No.

She walks all the way until her office – a tiny room
where she writes – and she pushes a couple books of
the shelf until she sees it: a tiny black box she has
hidden there for almost two months, waiting for its
opportunity to seal the deal. Quinn had chosen that
place carefully, because the room was the only one
Rachel-proof.

Quinn slides the box inside her jeans’ pocket and she
exits the room.

She’s feeling nervous and excited as she opens their

bedroom door. It’s so overwhelming she didn’t even
take a moment to think about how she’s going to do it.

Rachel is there, lying face down on the bed, revealing

naked, tanned skin. Quinn kneels on the bed and then
slowly crawls over Rachel, planting a soft kiss on the
curve of her back. Rachel mumbled, pleased, but still
half-asleep. Quinn rests her body completely against
Rachel’s and she teases Rachel’s lacy black bra strap
then pushing it aside. The blonde’s lips press against
Rachel’s shoulder. She kisses it again, and again.
Then she slides them to the base of Rachel’s neck,
sucking lightly, letting hertongue dart out to taste her
girlfriend. She explores the bare expanse of Rachel’s
neck, while her hands involve the brunette’s waist.

Rachel’s smiling, but her eyes are still shut.

“Hey” Quinn mumbles, on the brunette’s ear. The
smile on Rachel widens.

“Hum…” she mumbles, lazily.

Quinn smiles against Rachel’s neck “I have news”.

“Hum?”

Quinn kisses softly Rachel’s pulse point, before

continuing, in a whisper “prop 8 was overruled”.

Rachel mumbled something that resembled “yay!”

against the pillow.

Quinn prompts her body with her arms, so that Rachel

can turn around and face her.

“That’s good news” Rachel says, yawning, her eyes

clouded, but obvious good mood. Quinn bites her
lower lip with a smile.

And then, in the simplest, less elaborated way

possible, Quinn’s hand dives inside her pocket and
her fingers reach for the little box.

Slowly, Quinn slides the box along the bed and then,
without a word, presents it to Rachel.

The clouds on the brunette’s eyes disappear

automatically. She’s staring at the box, an adorable
gap between her lips.

Quinn, biting her lip and smiling at the same time,

opens the box, slowly.

Rachel’s chocolate brow eyes shine at the sight of the

ring – it’s platinum, diamonds all around the band,
from Quinn; everything she had ever wanted – but
then rise to Quinn’s hazel’s.

Quinn needs no further permission that than. She

reaches for Rachel’s left hand and raises it until it’s
between their faces. Gently, she takes the ring out of
the box and slides it on Rachel’s ring finger. Once
they see it’s a perfect fit, Quinn leans down and softly
kisses Rachel’s hand.

Rachel involves Quinn’s face with her hands, pulling

her to meet her lips. They kiss ardently, languidly.

They’ve been married to each other for a long time…

…but now they are going to have the party.

------------

Chapter Three
After her lunch with Rachel, the rest of Quinn’s
afternoon went by relatively uneventful, Coach
Sylvester laughed at her for being unable to walk
without waddling, and Miss Pillsbury cornered her
asking her if she wanted to talk about Sue’s
unpleasant behaviour towards her. She declined, the
Cheerio’s coach had called her worse things before
her lapse in judgment turned her ‘Fat Day’ into the
mother of all ‘Fat Days’

She refused the offer from Brittany to hang out with

her and Santana after school, she lied saying that she
was feeling tired and her pillow was calling out to her.
The look of relief from the Latina when she told the
blonde cheerleader this didn’t go unnoticed. Like she
wants to be third wheel anyway.

She went straight to Puck’s when school finished,

dumping her bag on the floor and collapsing onto the
small bed. She had some time before little Maya
came home and Puck’s Mom would wake up from her
daily afternoon nap, so she took that opportunity to
bask in the peacefulness of the house before getting
ready for dinner at Rachel’s.

Wow, there was something she never thought she’d

be doing, or look forward to doing. She pretty much
had a two track mind lately. Hungry and horny, and
neither one had been satisfied at all these last few
months, so the thought of a proper home cooked
meal made her mouth water. As for the constant
arousal, well that was something that would have to
be locked up in a little box, somewhere in the back of
her mind. She closed her eyes and thought of potato
dumplings.

She heard a bang from somewhere and bolted upright

looking around the room like a rabbit sensing danger,
then when she heard the familiar sound of Puck’s little
sister running down the basement steps, she slumped
and looked at the clock in the corner with a frown.
God damn it, she’d fallen asleep for almost an hour.
Well at least she hadn’t really lied to Brittany now.

The young girl bounded up to her and smiled

mischievously before shouting, “Epic Quinn!”

“Maya, stop calling me that.” She could kill Puck for

coming up with that name for her. Especially in front
of an impressionable eleven year old who was ready
to absorb all types of new information. “Did you have
a good day at school?” She asked ruffling the girl’s
hair.

The littlest Puckerman scrunched up her face,

slapping the hand away from her head. “Yeah.
Matthew Parker’s hamster, Jasper escaped from its
cage during second period and our teacher Mr. Tobin
had to try and catch it. It was really funny, he was
running around all over the place, he caught Jasper
but then he fell down.”

“Oh no. Is he alright?”

Maya had her hand in her pocket and was digging

around like she was looking for gold. “Hmm?”

“Is he alright?” Quinn asked again with a smile. She

could only hope her daughter turned out to be as cute
as the little girl in front of her, with the trademark
Puckerman soulful eyes, and far too cheeky grin.

“No. He died.”

The blonde gaped at the girl. “Mr. Tobin died?”

“No!” Maya scoffed. “Jasper died. Pay attention. Puck

said the baby has turned your brain to mush.”

“Did he now?” Quinn asked narrowing her eyes.

“Yeah.” The girl nodded. She knew she was getting

her brother into trouble. “Mom asked me to come get
you.”

“Tell her I’ll be up in a minute.”

“Okay.” And the little girl ran back up the basement

stairs, tripping halfway but carrying on like nothing
had happened.

Quinn stood up and stretched her back, no sixteen

year old should have back ache like this, even if they
are pregnant. She made her way to the living room
and Ruth had her feet up watching some generic TV
game show. The lady knew her general knowledge.
She asked Mrs. Puckerman once why she didn’t
apply to go on one of those shows because she
would totally kick trivia’s ass, but Ruth said that she
didn’t think she was that good. Quinn would later work
out that she was agoraphobic, and wouldn’t even
leave the house to go and see her own daughter in
the starring role of the school’s production of Aladdin.

“You wanted to see me?” She asked sitting next to

the woman.

“You make it sound so formal Quinn; I just wanted to

know how your day was.”

“It was okay actually.”

“Good. Did you enjoy your lunch?”

“Yes, it was lovely thank you.” No, it was horrible and

she threw it away. Not even a dog would eat it.

“I’m glad to hear it.” Mrs. Puckerman looked at her

and her face became serious. “You can’t make it a
habit though Quinn, I can’t allow non kosher food in
the house, it was a one off occasion because of the
situation at the time.”

“I understand. I promise it won’t happen again.”

“Do you have anything planned for tonight?” The

woman asked turning back to the TV.

“Yes, I’m going over to a friend’s house for dinner.”

“That’s nice. Which friend?”

“Santana.” Quinn wasn’t quite ready to admit out loud

that she was willingly going over to Rachel’s, although
Ruth Puckerman would probably approve.

“You shouldn’t spend so much time with that Lopez

girl, she’s a bad influence.”

“We’ve been friends since we were in kindergarten.”

She and the Latina may not always get along, but
they had each other’s back when it was needed and
calling her a ‘bad influence’ was probably an over
exaggeration. She was almost certain of that. “I have
to get ready.” She got up giving the woman a smile
and headed back down to the basement, locking the
door behind her.

She opened up the suitcase and looked at the

minimal amount of clothes she owned that actually fit
her. She shoved her hand in and pulled a dress out at
random. “That’ll do.” It didn’t matter; all her clothes
looked much the same anyway. Once she was ready,
she got on the bed and closed her eyes for a second.

__________

David and Lucas Berry weren’t idiots. They were

more than aware that their daughter was… Socially
inept. And they took responsibility for a certain
amount of it.

From the moment she came into the world four weeks
early she was spoiled, they wanted her to have
opportunities in life, putting her into dancing classes,
singing classes and martial arts classes. The latter
because it was a small town in Ohio and they knew
what kind of backlash having two gay fathers would
have on her. They didn’t condone violence, but that
didn’t mean they wouldn’t allow their little girl to be
defenceless when, and not if, she got bullied. They
also wanted her to be confident and never afraid to be
herself. And for good or bad, that’s how she turned
out.

Even though they never brought it up to Rachel, they

did worry at her lack of friends. Boyfriends didn’t fall
into this category, and they couldn’t find themselves
happy that she had Jesse because the guy is a
schmuck. So when their daughter had asked them if
she could invite Quinn over for dinner tonight, they
were relieved. They knew the history between them,
and when Rachel told them about revealing the true
paternity to Finn they grounded her for a month.
Lucas was so furious with her he refused to speak to
her for days. After that, when she spoke about the
pregnant girl it was always with some sadness, and
she talked about the baby a lot. It was like she’d
realised that it was actually a living being. And even
though it didn’t come across, she was a very nurturing
individual.

When the blonde turned up she was ten minutes late.

“I’m so sorry.” She apologised to Lucas when he
answered the door looking mildly annoyed, wearing a
suggestive apron involving sausages, but gave her a
knowing smile when she said “I keep falling asleep
today, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He led her into the kitchen and she sat down on one
of the dining chairs as he went back to the cooker.
“That’s the thing about babies,” He said stirring the
pot and bringing the spoon to his mouth, blowing it a
few times. “They feed off your energy like a parasite.”

She pursed her lips and frowned at him. Her baby

wasn’t a parasite. Except if you looked in a dictionary
then yeah, technically it was.

David walked in during his husband’s last statement

and slapped him on the arm. “Way to make
pregnancy sound like an episode of the X Files Luke.”
The taller man looked at Quinn and rolled his eyes.
“Brain filter, remember?” And he tapped the side of
his head to emphasise.

She laughed. “I remember.”

“I hope you brought your oversized party pants Kiddo,

when my husband cooks, it’s enough to feed an
army.”

“Don’t need oversized party pants I’m wearing a

dress, and the freeloader in my stomach helps out
too.”

“Handy little blighters aren’t they.” He went over to the

fridge and opened it, flicking the bulb to bring on the
light. “Drink? We have water, O.J, apple juice or milk.”

“Water’s good.”

David took out the bottle and handed it over to her.

“Rachel will be down soon. She’s, doing...
something.” He exhaled. “I don’t know what.” He
really didn’t know what, but he did know that his
daughter was very nervous about the blonde coming
over. The three of them heard Rachel running down
the stairs and then walk into the kitchen as casually
as she could. The Diva didn’t pull off a laid back
attitude very well, even in her most relaxed state there
was an underlying hum of energy.
“Hey.” Quinn gave the other girl a smile.

“Hey back.” The brunette waved, and then put her

hand down quickly. She turned to the smaller man
cooking and asked, “Is dinner nearly ready?”

“No. It’ll be another thirty minutes.”

She jutted out her lower lip, pouting. “But I’m hungry
now.”

“You cannot rush perfection little lady, you’re just

going to have to wait.” Lucas said waving the handle
of the wooden spoon at her, getting the sauce over
his apron.

“You asked if dinner was going to be ready soon an

hour ago. You’re not normally this hungry. Is
everything alright?” David leaned against the
breakfast bar putting his hands in his pockets. He
caught the look Rachel gave Quinn and frowned
when she responded.

“I just worked out extra hard today. Now I’m hungry.”

“You are a terrible liar Rachel Barbara Berry.”

The Diva’s eyes went wide; she knew she was in

trouble when her full name was used. She opened her
mouth to say something but all that came out was,
“Uh.” Then she closed it again. Apparently she’d only
had the one lie in her, honesty was one of the many
qualities of her personality that she was proud of, and
why being a politician was never one of her back up
careers if Broadway didn't work out.

“She gave her food to me lunch time.” The blnde said

feeling guilty. “She felt sorry for me because Puck’s
Mom made me some pretty unappetising ham
sandwiches and I almost threw up they were so
disgusting.”

David quirked an eyebrow and stopped himself from

smiling. “We appreciate the over-share. Thank you
very much.” He looked to his daughter, who at least
had the decency to look embarrassed and shook his
head. “You didn’t need to lie honey.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Wait!” Lucas blurted out, and laughed nervously at

suddenly being the centre of attention. “The
Puckerman’s are Jewish, why did she give you ham?”

“While we were at the store the other day, I may have

had a ‘pregnant moment’ in the cooked meat section.”

“What exactly does a ‘pregnant moment’ entail?”

“Mostly crying, with the occasional sob.”

David laughed. “Oh my God, you emotionally
blackmailed the woman for a bit of pig didn’t you?”

“No! She just realised that it was the only thing that
was going to stop me blubbering. She picked up the
cheapest one though; I don’t think it contained a
whole lot of actual meat.” She stuck her tongue out
and made gagging noises.

“You are very bad Quinn.” Lucas wagged the spoon

at the blonde, getting even more sauce on him.
“You’re lucky ham is easy to resist.”

“Resist?” The taller man asked his husband. “Doesn’t

being Jewish automatically mean you just don’t eat
anything that isn’t kosher?”

“Well, yeah.” Lucas was looking down at his apron

and trying to wipe away the mess, however all that
accomplished was that it spread the stain out more.
“But it helps that ham doesn’t really look particularly
appealing, and pork when it’s cooking smells like
burning flesh. Do you know how hard it is to be a
good Jew with the smell of frying bacon? It is
extremely difficult.”

“You never mentioned this before.” The taller man

said looking confused.

“You never asked?”

“I didn’t know I needed to after twenty years of
marriage. How do I know that you don’t go off to eat it
somewhere undercover of darkness in a shroud of
secrecy?”

“What? You think all the bad Jews in town hang out in
packs and go to some back ally bacon van near the
trailer park willing to pay extortionate prices to get
their fix?”

“Not bad Jews Honey, easily led. You did seem to go

into more detail there than necessary though, it
makes me wonder if there really is some shady
enterprise over on the wrong side of Lima, preying on
all you guilt ridden Jews.”

“I feel like I should be very offended by that.” Lucas

frowned.

“But you’re not, because you love me and you know

I’m only kidding.” David went up to his husband and
wrapped his arms around him, placing a kiss on his
cheek.

“Urgh. I don’t need to see this.” Rachel started moving

towards the door. “Quinn, would you like to join me
the den?”

“Aww, they’re so cute. Why would you not need to

see this?” The blonde looked at the couple. Her
parents never did this.
The Diva smirked. “I don’t know, I’d rather watch a
movie in my cosy chair.”

This got the other girl’s attention. In seconds she was

charging out of the room past a bewildered brunette
who took a moment to realise what happened, and
ran after her. From the kitchen, the two men heard,

“You can’t just commandeer my chair Quinn! It’s

improper social practice.”

“I’m pregnant damn it! I deserve comfort.”

David sighed letting go of his husband and made his

way to the other room to control the teenagers that
were bickering. He leaned against the doorway
watching with amusement as the two girls sat
squashed together in the chair with Rachel trying to
get the remote from the blonde who had it held above
her head.

“You have an unfair advantage. Give it to me.” The

brunette groaned, grasping at the air ineffectually.

“It’s not my fault your little arms can’t reach that high.”
And the blonde blew a raspberry in the other girls
face.

The man knocked on the door and the girls froze. “I

never thought I’d have to say this to anyone over the
age of nine, but do I need to separate you two?”

“No.” They both said quickly, sitting with their hands in

their lap and wearing innocent smiles.

He shook his head and went back out to the kitchen

to keep his husband company. “Honey?”

“Yeah?” Lucas wiped his hands on a cloth and smiled

up at him.

“How do you know what burning flesh smells like?”

__________

Dinner at the Fabray house was always such a

sombre affair; Quinn wasn’t really permitted to talk
unless it was ‘Could you pass the carrots please?’ or
if her father asked her a question. Her parents on the
other hand could talk as much as they wanted, and
that was usually more excruciating than the silence.
And meal time at the Puckerman’s was quiet, but that
was only because everyone’s attention was on the
TV. So she didn’t think it was possible to have any
kind of fun while eating dinner, but she was laughing
so hard she hadn’t been able to swallow the food that
had been in her mouth for the last ten minutes and
she wasn’t being scolded for it, in fact the two men
were practically encouraging her.
She’d laughed more in the last three days than she
had in the last sixteen years. And it was all Rachel
Berry’s fault.

Rachel, was not finding things as amusing as her

parents and Quinn. She didn’t see why it was so
funny that she absolutely, positively hated the name
the blonde had decided to give to her chair.

“I don’t think the name is appropriate.” She scowled

folding her arms. “And I don’t think that my dislike of it
is all that humorous either. My chair does not deserve
the name of a seedy street corner prostitute who
became semi-famous because she performed fellatio
on Hugh Grant!”

As far as the pregnant girl was concerned, Rachel,

saying fellatio, equals too freaking funny.

“Divine Brown is not acceptable.” The Diva glared at

Quinn. “Mrs. Snugglebottom, or Mrs. Cosy-ton-
hugglebanks. Those are acceptable.”

“Rachel, Sweetie? I think you’re going to have to stop

talking now. Quinn looks like she’s turning blue.”
David patted his daughter on the arm.

“I was merely pointing out some of the more suitable

names she could’ve come up with.”
Rachel wasn’t really that annoyed because seeing
Quinn like this was very pleasant, and what was
better was that she only seemed to be like this around
her and her Dads. In school when the blonde was
hanging out with Santana and Brittany she didn’t
seem any different to the way she’d always been.
Snarky and grumpy. Not that the Diva spent a whole
lot of time watching the other girl or anything. But
something had changed, she wasn’t sure what
exactly. It could’ve been her shielding the girl from the
slushy, but she feared it was probably the vicodin
incident. Rachel really couldn’t remember much of
what had happened that afternoon, all she had to go
on was what her Dad’s had said, she vaguely
remembered a few things. Quinn being nice to her,
having a very itchy face and Brad the piano player
was probably some higher power, but that was about
the extent of it.

Whatever the reason, apparently this Quinn liked her

and that’s all she needed to know.

__________

The four of them finished their meal, eventually, and

went into the den to watch a movie. It was David’s
turn to pick this Friday, the rule at the Berry home was
that everything was done with fairness. Everyone had
their turn equally, whether it was chores or the choice
of entertainment.

His daughter and husband didn’t like it when it was

his turn to pick the film. They always picked musicals
and Rom Com’s, but David let his slightly sadistic side
come out to play when it came to movie night and
would always pick things like ‘Texas Chainsaw
Massacre’ or even worse, ‘Hostel’. Rachel hated
‘Hostel’ not only was it disgustingly gruesome and
gave her nightmares about eyes hanging out of their
sockets for weeks, she never understood why on
earth the audience would give a crap about the men
in the film. They were a bunch of chauvinist idiots who
got themselves tortured and killed because they
thought with their appendages and not with their
brains.

“I decided on a musical tonight.” He smirked when

Rachel and Lucas looked relieved. The Diva shifted
herself in the chair she was sharing with Quinn to get
comfortable. The blonde frowned at the girl wriggling
beside her. She didn’t want to watch a musical; she
changed her mind when the credits came up though.

“Dad. What is this?” The brunette waved her hand at

the TV.

“What does it look like? It’s a musical.”

“‘Cannibal! The musical’ doesn’t count.”

“Of course it does Sweetie; the protagonist expresses
his feelings through song. That’s how this genre
works.”

“I thought I got rid of this.” Lucas mumbled.

“Oh you did, but there’s this thing called Amazon so I

bought myself a new copy.”

Rachel sulked for the first half of the movie, Quinn got
bored. The title of the film made it sound like it would
at least be so bad it was funny, this was not the case.

Trying to find something to do that wasn’t watch the

film, the blonde put her arm down the side of the
armchair and found a lever. Out of a general curiosity,
she pulled it. The Diva squealed as the back of the
chair went down and her legs went up.

“Oh my God. It reclines!” Quinn shouted with

excitement. “I’m moving in, and I shall live here
forever more.”

“Quinn! Return us to our former position at once.”

“No!” The blonde turned her head and moved dark

hair out of the way to whisper into the other girl’s ear.
“Think of it this way Rachel, if we’re looking at the
ceiling, we’re not watching the lame-ass movie.”

The Diva seemed to ponder this, then turned her

head knocking her nose against the other girls and
pulled back at the surprise of the contact. She gave a
tiny cough. “That is true.” Rachel kept her voice low.
“But our ceiling isn’t very entertaining. So what else
can we do to occupy our time?” She asked smiling.

The pregnant girl shrugged and looked back up. Right

now all she could think about was the image of an
actual Little Devil who had escaped the metaphorical
horny box in her head, and was running around happy
to be free. How dare he react to Rachel’s innocent
question like that. Unacceptable.

“Girls?”

“Yeah?” They didn’t bother moving from their reclined

position to look at David.

He chuckled. “Will either one of you be acting like

you’re almost adults anytime tonight?”

“Probably not.” Quinn answered without any argument

from Rachel.

“Okay then.” He didn’t mind whether or not the girls

watched the movie. His daughter was interacting with
someone on a social level, and if that interaction
meant that they both acted like five year olds, then so
be it. The film was really only to punish his husband
for getting rid of his original copy and think that he
wouldn’t get found out.
“Rock, paper, scissors?” Rachel whispered.

The blonde turned her head towards the Diva slightly

and whispered back. “What will the winner get?” It
came out more suggestively than she’d intended, and
she blamed it on the still loose sexual demon running
about in her head. Which at some point during the last
minute, she’d named Charlie.

“The chance to gloat because of superior skills?”

Thankfully, Rachel hadn’t picked up on the tone. That
or she was choosing to ignore it.

“That sounds boring. How about we make it

interesting?”

“Hmm.” There were several moments of silence, then,

“Okay. If you win I’ll make you lunch for school all of
next week.”

She liked the way the brunette thought. “And if you

win?”

“That will be disclosed at a later date.”

“Not a chance. Pick something now or I pick for you.”

“Oh, alright. You have to perform ‘I Do Not Hook Up’

in Glee.”
“What? No.”

“What’s the matter Quinn? Don’t you think you can

rock Kelly Clarkson?”

Damn Rachel for knowing her weakness of proving

people wrong. “Fine.” She was almost tempted to
change her mind about what she would get if she won
and make Rachel do some embarrassing song in
front of the whole school, but knowing the Diva, she’d
probably like the song and make it sound amazing.
But food that didn’t make her want to vomit would win
in almost every situation.

In the end, Quinn needn’t have worried.

Rachel didn’t take losing very well; she demanded

several rematches and got increasingly more
annoyed with every loss, she finally conceded after
the nineteenth game. The result was Quinn:
Seventeen, Rachel: Two.

The Berry men had actually spent more time watching

them play than they did the film. It was all very
entertaining, they’d never seen their daughter act like
this with anyone, and when she actually admitted
defeat they applauded.

At nine o’clock Lucas insisted that Quinn let Mrs.

Puckerman know that she was staying the night
because it was too late for her to drive home. It
wasn’t, but she wasn’t going to argue with the man.
His concern for her welfare was very sweet.

She and Rachel stayed up after the two men had

gone to bed and watched something that wasn’t from
David’s weirdly large collection of Exploitation films,
compromising on 'Matilda'' because who doesn’t love
Roald Dahl?

“I’ve had a really nice time tonight Rachel.” She felt

the girl shift in the seat they were still sharing but she
didn’t take her eyes off the screen.

“I’m glad.” The Diva leaned against the back of the

upright chair and rested her head on her hand.
“Maybe next time I should challenge you to a thumb
wrestling match, I have deceptively strong digits.”

Quinn snorted. “Is it your goal in life to make me laugh

now or something?”

“It might be. Would that be so bad?”

“No.” She turned to face Rachel. “It really wouldn’t.”

She smiled, then her attention was back to the TV
and they watched the rest of the film in silence.