Author's Note: Wasn't supposed to be so sudden but yeah, this is the last Chapter.

Chapter 7

A week had elapsed with no sign of Puck's brilliant 'Phase Two', as he had described it to Finn. A part of him wanted to believe that Quinn could work this scenario out on her own, but the evidence was incriminating – there were looks, quirky and subtle and obvious in nature but no touching whatsoever. It was almost as if the blonde was afraid to touch Rachel again, for fear that she should shatter completely. The time drew near when he knew he could sit around no longer.

On arranged day, Puck had caught Sam by the arm as he exited his last class of the day, wriggling as he tried to escape the biker's grasp. "What are you doing?" Sam asked, honestly afraid until he saw that his captor was no one other than his fellow teammate. "Oh hey, Puck. What's up, man?"

"I'm sure you've noticed something been up these last few weeks, haven't you?" He asked the blonde boy, who was looking warily from side to side as Finn emerged behind the school's self-proclaimed badass with crossed arms. He thought it made him look touch but alas, it did not. "We want you to join us."

Sam's eyes widened, as he clutched his book bag tightly against his body. "What like a threesome?"

Finn knitted his eyebrows together, clarifying for his companion. "No, definitely not like a threesome. Not at all like a threesome."

Confusion deepened on Sam's face, as he turned a bright scarlet due to his own assumptions. Puck crossed his arms, set on employing Sam's help in this situation. "While me and my boy here aren't involved in a relationship with each other, we are involved in a plot that requires your help."

A blonde eyebrow rose in curiosity and intrigue.

"Sam! Do you have the hair product and chapstick?" The Jewish boy asked, sticking out his hands for the proper materials. Eagerly, he took the can and covered a mist of gruesome hairspray into the hair of the girl he had collected from the drama club for this very occurrence. He ran a palm through the mess of her hair, musing it enough to look very hooker-ish.

Staring blankly at the girl who could easily pass for a hooker, Finn unhinged his mouthed. "Out of all the respect I have for you, Puck – why are we making a girl from the drama club look like…an exotic entertainer?" The girl glanced at the school quarterback, blinking at him and he smiled back at her dopily. Not usually his type, but very cute nonetheless.

"We need to make Rachel perfectly aware of the fact that dating Quinn shouldn't be taken for granted – that she'll have some competition."Puck shook his head, handing the hairspray back to Sam. "Operation Jealousy works like this: we send in some half class harlot to flirt with Quinn a little, making her look like a complete stud and Rachel will be unable to control herself and ravish–"

"Oh, please tell me you're not doing what I think you're doing."

Puck whirled around, eyes widening when he saw the very angry (and traditionally violent) Latina, who had linked her hands together with a curiously perplexed Brittany Pierce. Evidently upset, she released her girlfriend's hand, crossed her arms and widened her stance. "You're interfering with the progress they've made already."

Before Puck could defend himself, the Latina continued. "Don't think I'm going to let you undo all our work on the Faberry front I mean we worked hard for that-" Santana started before Brittany hushed her promptly.

"Don't say that, San. That's not all - you care about them too." Brittany teased, elbowing her miffed girlfriend slightly. The girl calmed, slipping her hand back into Brittany's. "Even Rachel,"

Grudging her lack of apathy, the Latina grumbled under breath. "Maybe I do alright…Maybe even for the crossing-dressing nymph, alright? All that time stalking her preemptively before we set them up actually proved how much crap Berry puts up with at this school...and besides, they're slightly less annoying together."

"Exactly!" Puck said, catching the strings of words muttered by the angry Latina and reprising them in his own mind. After a while of Santana's string of vulgarity, one had begun to translate her profanity into a more connotative understanding. With Santana, you had to read between the lines. Far in between. "Rachel and Quinn are good for each other. Which is why we can't let them just screw up this relationship like they always do."

"Geez, you guys talk about it as if it's you're part of their relationship." Sam interjected, still the new guy in this situation and the four other Glee club members spited him. Despite this, the blonde was surprisingly not shocked about the prospect of the Quinn-Rachel relationship.

Ignoring the blonde boy's remark, Santana coughed into her hand, "What did you have in mind, Puckerman? What does this brilliant plan constitute?" She laced the word 'brilliant' with a fine veil of sarcasm.

Grateful to have a say in things, the mohawked boy motioned to the scantily-cladded girl beside him, who he had met while scouring the drama club for Quinn's leather outfit. "Bimbo here…I mean, Stacy here will help us make Rachel jealous by flirting tastelessly with Quinn."

"And then Rachel will kill her?" Brittany asked very nonchalantly, making the amateur actress jump in her boots. Catching onto her unease quickly, Brittany reassured her with a gentle pat on the arm. "Don't worry, she probably won't."

"Yeah, like I probably won't neuter Puck if this idea doesn't work." Santana muttered, giving Stacy a once over. On one hand, if this plan didn't work out and Quinn found out about their inference again, they would surely be excommunicated…On the other, Quinn had been progressing her relationship with Rachel at the speed of a one legged sloth and Rachel did deadest seem rather horny lately, especially with last week's display of leather. The diva had begun to make first period a nightmare with all her incessant, pent-up feelings about Quinn that Santana could barely take it anymore...

"Not slutty enough, Stacy." Santana ripped off the bottom part of her already thread-bare jeans, tilting her head in observation of her own work. She patted the poor girl on the back much to her horror. "This will do – get going, bimbo."

"I've been thinking about our relationship –" Rachel began, nearing Quinn by her locker after school. She bit down her lip, deciding the perfect way to explain that she was ready for Quinn to at least touch her again. In the two weeks that she had decided to forgive they had-been Cheerio, they had not kissed or hugged, only so much as shook hands. The anticipation was grating, and she knew that only looking at the blonde prance around in beautiful sundresses was fueling it.

Catching Quinn's fear at the words, Rachel clarified, "You've been perfectly cordial and thoughtful of my feelings the last couple weeks and as much as I don't want to rush anything I feel like the pace we're travelling at is just a little too-"

"Hey there, Quinn." Brown eyes widened at the scantily-cladded girl that had just purred Quinn's name as if it was the most delicious word her lips had tasted. The girl drew very close to the former cheerleader, who was squirming for a way out. Rachel bit in her lip, lying in wait. "You're looking rather good, today." Rachel's eye twitched at this comment. "Not that you don't any other day."

We're friends to the public eye. Rachel thought, though her body betrayed her, tensing. We're friends, friends don't get jealous when concubines beginning touching their friends. But she couldn't help the fury that was already building up inside her petite form.

"I'm sorry but I don't remember you at all-"Quinn started frantically looking back at her girlfriend.

The girl in question, who Quinn couldn't quite remember ever meeting before, trailed her finger down the blonde's lips and shushed her. "Don't speak; this is going to be magical."

Hazel eyes darted everywhere for a means of escape but she was already clutching her collar as she tried to wriggle free.

The five persons located safely around the corner of the halls, watched, tainted with guilt as the small form of Rachel Berry filled with a very livid shade of scarlet, which burned to the tips of her ears. Her small fists, which could definitely not be mistaken for 'Manhands' were shaking – they feared sincerely for the surprisingly convincing actress, who was running her fingers on Quinn's arm.

Sam shook his head, muttering to Puck quietly. "You used my hairspray for evil."

But when she held Quinn's fragile form against the lockers and proceeded to whisper into the shell of Quinn's ear, just loud enough for Rachel to hear: "You make me feel so..." – She couldn't take it anymore. Absolutely fuming, Rachel shoved the girl aside, a sudden adrenaline taking over her meager stature.

"I'm sorry but she's taken," Rachel threatened, looming over the other girl with a sudden change of air. Finn was about ready to pull Stacy out of the impending massacre when Rachel dropped her fists. Instead of looming, instead of thrashing, instead of diva-strutting away - she pulled Quinn into her arms, and cupping her face intently, pecked her crimson lips. Again. She felt them firmly now, having so long missed their taste, their softness. Eagerly, she pressed her lips to Quinn's only for a second before her paramour grudgingly retreated.

The blonde's eyes widened to twice their usual size, looking around nervously. "Rachel, people are starting to stare." The brunette temporarily dropped her gaze from Quinn's hazel eyes and scanned the corridors to find the baffled faces of her peers. Was it so strange to see the Queen Bee and the school G-loser kiss? Okay, perhaps it was but being the subject of their distaste stung less when she was certain she had the prettiest girl in school. Decisively, she wrapped her hands around the blonde's face again.

"I don't care who's watching – you're mine." She replied firmly.

"I'm yours?" Quinn repeated, scarcely believing her ears. Her fingers pierced Rachel's curtain of brown hair. "You're mine." Rachel nodded, capturing those pink, soft lips again, succumbing to the high that Quinn was giving her. She was only vaguely aware of the five people lurking behind the corridor, thinking they had been so coy with their dealings.

End