Disclaimer - Obviously do not own Glee or any of its characters, because if I did things would be going very differently.

AN: This is my first Glee attempt, so feedback is greatly appreciated (plus it keeps me motivated and posting). This is based on a prompt from the R_Q prompt meme on LJ (started it back in June and it has been moldering on my hard drive ever since).

This has not been beta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Rachel stood on Quinn's doorstep, nervously toying with the cell phone she held clasped in one slightly sweaty palm. The air lay thick and still around her, the humidity oppressive, making each breathe just a little difficult to draw. A breeze would be welcome, something to at least move the air, offer a slight bit of relief, but the night remained calm. Rachel drew in another slightly too deep breathe, and tried to channel some of that calm.

She had been standing on the doorstep for the last two minutes, rooted into place like a statue, afraid to ring the doorbell. Rachel, who prided herself on her ability to face every new situation with unflappable grace and ease, was now rendered immobile by nerves. Able, even eager, to sing to an auditorium packed with people, she was paralyzed by a stomach twisting dread about what awaited her on the other side of the door. She wondered if this is what others referred to when they talked about stage fright. She cataloged the feeling, though certainly not pleasant, it might prove useful for a future role, and a great actress used every tool at her disposal.

Drawing a final, fortifying breathe she reached out to depress the small white oval. Rachel jumped and almost dropped her phone when it buzzed the alert for an incoming text. Managing to retain it in her slick grip she pressed the button to display the message, more than eager to take advantage of this opportunity for delay. To ignore a call, or a text in this case, would be rude. Rachel Berry was many things, but she had always been unfailingly polite and well mannered. Now was certainly no time to abandon a lifetime of teaching.

Hey Rach, where are you? Everybody else is already here. Hope I see you soon.

Rachel smiled to herself as she read the text. One of her personal pet peeves was the abomination known as text speak that plagued almost all forms of electronic communication. She had been scrolling through the, mostly scathing, comments on her MySpace page when she had simply had enough. After the fifth barely comprehensible mishmash of letters, numbers and characters she had launched into what, even she could admit, was a full blown diva tirade. In retrospect she was willing to acknowledge that her ire may have not been directed solely at the format of the comments. She remained adamant however, that if you were too stupid or lazy to form complete sentences when you had access to a full and functioning keyboard your opinion should be barred from posting. Quinn, who had been hanging out with Rachel at the time, said nothing, but since that day every text she had received from the blonde had been grammatically perfect.

I was just about to ring the bell.

Rachel deemed that the two minutes she had stood on the stoop, unable to ring the bell, was not pertinent information, and that omitting it did not constitute a lie. Honesty was almost as important to Rachel as politeness. Most people found her honesty annoying, but she held staunch to the belief that there was very little to be gained from lying. How was one to grow and improve if others were not honest about their faults? Constructive criticism was the bedrock of personal growth and Rachel refused to abandon it just to avoid a few years of torment while in high school. Slight bending of the truth and omissions were a completely different matter.

Glad to have a few more precious seconds to compose herself, Rachel slid her phone into her shorts pocket. She smoothed her hand down the front of her spaghetti tank, trying to erase invisible wrinkles, and tugged lightly on the hem of her shorts. She had allowed Quinn to take her shopping several times, acquiescing to all of the blonde's wardrobe suggestions. She was aware that others found the way she dressed obnoxious, though she really didn't see why presenting a tidy and well constructed ensemble was apparently the sign of a deep character flaw worthy of endless mockery. But in the world of McKinley High it was, so when Quinn had picked out shorter shorts then she would have chosen and shirts that bared more skin then she was accustomed too, she had simply smiled and told the clerk to ring them up. She reasoned that a few changes to her wardrobe did not constitute an abandoning of her sense of self, and instead served to broaden her horizons and create another avenue to grow and learn. That, and her girlfriend had a tendency to touch and stroke any exposed bit of flesh; so in this case less was definitely more.

The door suddenly swung open and Quinn was greeting her with a broad grin. Rachel unconsciously returned the smile, her nerves dissipating with the appearance of the blonde. Two arms reached out and pulled her close, enveloping her in a crushing hug. The heat of the early September night made the embrace hot and sticky. What, under normal circumstances would have been uncomfortable and unpleasant, was instead pure bliss. Rachel reached out to return the hug, squeezing Quinn tightly as a bead of sweat rolled down the middle of her back.

Quinn pulled back just far enough to capture Rachel's lips in a light kiss. A tiny chill ran down Rachel's back at the gentle contact. They had started officially dating a little less then a month ago, and regardless how many times they had kissed, Rachel still felt that little zing each time. Part of her still couldn't quite wrap her mind around that fact that Quinn Fabray, once the most popular girl at McKinley and newly reinstated captain of the Cheerios, was dating her, bottom of the social ladder, Rachel Berry. Not content with the teasing kiss, Rachel leaned forward to deepen the contact. She gently sucked Quinn's bottom lip between hers and ran her tongue lightly over it, eliciting a soft groan from her girlfriend. Her girlfriend! Quinn let the kiss linger, bringing her tongue out to play with Rachel's, before she broke the contact and rested her forehead against the brunette's.

"Hey, you." Quinn smiled at her softly. "Glad you could make it. What took you so long? It's not like you to be late."

"I was..unavoidably detained." Technically she had been, if only by her crippling case of nerves. Punctuality was equally as important to Rachel as honesty and politeness, her failure to arrive on time chaffed. She fixed an eager grin on her face. "But I am now present and accounted for so, let's get this party started!" She hoped that Quinn didn't notice the forced cheer in her voice. Being here this evening was actually one of the last places she wanted to be.

Her fathers had decided to go on away for a long weekend. Rachel, one of the most responsible teens you were ever likely to encounter, had been left home alone without a second thought. Rachel, while not one to plan wild parties, had immediately recognized the wonderful opportunity this presented for some uninterrupted quality time with her insanely attractive girlfriend. She was a good girl, but she was still a hormonal teenager. She was also a planner, and from the minute her fathers had announced their impromptu trip her brain had kicked into high gear, wanting to plan the most perfect romantic weekend possible on such short notice.

She had spent hours online, searching for a vegan meal that she was confident Quinn would enjoy too. She was well aware that her food choices could sometimes be less then appealing to others and didn't want her girlfriend to lack because of it. Candles had been purchased, playlists had been created, perfume had been purchased, and just to be prepared for all outcomes lingerie had been chosen. A girl could never be too sure. If this weekend turned out to be the weekend she didn't want to be caught with her pants down with only her practical cotton bikini briefs. Well she wouldn't mind the pants down part, but while perfectly serviceable for everyday use, her undergarments simply would not do for a romantic weekend tryst. Everything was planned, and she had invited Quinn over under the guise of a movie night, not wanting to spoil the surprise. It was all perfect. Right up until the moment Quinn called to cancel.

Quinn leaned forward and gave Rachel a quick peck on the lips. "You're cute when you try to use lingo." A small frown formed between Rachel's brows as she pouted. People still said that, she'd heard them, it was a perfectly valid expression. Quinn raised a finger and gently smoothed the slight crease that had formed, her expression growing more serious. "I know this isn't your ideal way to spend Friday night." An understatement if ever there was one, and apparently her guise of happiness hadn't been as effective as she had hoped. More practice time in front of her mirror was clearly required.

"You just have to give them a chance. Once you get to know them you'll see the girls aren't all that bad." Quinn looked at her with pleading eyes. Rachel wondered if she had fallen into some alternate reality or if Quinn was suffering from memory loss. She was here at Quinn's urging, and because frankly going a night without seeing her girlfriend was not terribly appealing, not because of any particular desire to get to know the girls. In fact if she never had to be in the same room with the girls between now and her dying day she would count herself truly blessed. But Quinn had asked, begged really, and over her own better instincts, Rachel had reluctantly agreed.

The girls in question were of course Quinn's former pom-pom posse, the Cheerios. Once their all powerful leader, Quinn had fallen from grace when it was discovered she was pregnant. Now that the baby was out of the picture the fickle squad had apparently welcomed her back with open arms. They had decided to throw a last minute party to celebrate Quinn's return. When Quinn had told her Thursday about the party Rachel had been disappointed, seeing her plans for a romantic weekend ending quicker then Glory Days' Broadway run.

Rachel was not overly thrilled in general with Quinn's decision to return to the Cheerio's, and all of her objections were admittedly selfish. When Quinn had ruled the school as the Head Bitch in Charge, she had made it her personal mission to make Rachel's life miserable as only teenage girls can. Slushies, dumpsters, hurtful nicknames, sexually explicit bathroom graffiti, all had been part of Quinn's arsenal and she had not been conservative in their deployment. A lot had changed over the last year, and in the last three months especially, but Rachel was still uncomfortably aware of the not so distant past.

In the last months of her pregnancy there had been a discernible change in the formerly caustic cheerleader. Rachel wasn't sure if it was pending motherhood, or her torment at the hands of former followers, but Quinn became introspective, quite, and a certain vulnerability had developed. Against her better judgment, Rachel had extended the tentative offer of friendship, knowing all to well what it was to be a social pariah. To her surprise Quinn had accepted. What began as a casual friendship had blossomed into a much deeper one when Quinn had given her baby up for adoption. To Rachel's birth mother of all people. An odd sort of bond had developed between them over their shared loss; Quinn for the daughter that she would never really know, and Rachel for the mother that she had briefly found but instead of embracing her had embraced Quinn's baby. It still stung.

The odd bond that had brought them together had only strengthened and grown over the summer, until one day it had all changed again with a single kiss. Now Rachel was afraid it was all going to change back again. She was painfully aware of the powerful pull of popularity, and the havoc that allure could wreak. Quinn had changed, showering Rachel with attention and tenderness, but the specter of the old Quinn, her tormentor, was always lurking. She knew Quinn felt horribly about her past actions, she had tearfully told her on several occasions how sorry she was. Rachel had assured her each time that she forgave her, to forget the past, and instead focus on the future. Rachel wished she could believe her own words so easily, despite all her best efforts, a tendril of doubt still lingered. It wasn't that she didn't trust Quinn, she did. When they were alone together everything was perfect.

Of course that was the problem, the special bubble of isolation that had allowed them to grow and nurture their fledgling relationship had dissipated. School had started, and Sue Sylvester had wasted no time reclaiming her former captain, the Cheerios had swooped in soon after to reclaim their re-throned queen. Rachel had subtly tried to persuade Quinn that joining the cheering squad would be a bad idea. Quinn had assured her, quite bluntly, that Rachel had nothing to worry about and that nothing would change between them. Subtlety was another thing Rachel added to her list of self improvement projects.

She had wanted to press the issue but the wounded, slightly haunted look, which had entered Quinn's soft hazel eyes had forestalled her. Her girlfriend hated being reminded of that time when she had been less then loving, and frankly she didn't much like remembering it either. So she had dropped the subject, and vowed to stay positive, to not obsess about what could go wrong. Everything had been going well, okay it was only the first week of school, but a week with no slushy attacks was counted a success in her books, until the Cheerios had decided to throw this little bash. Rachel's first reaction to the news had understandably been disappointment, but she didn't want to stand in the way of Quinn regaining some of her old life back, and had encouraged her girlfriend to go and have fun with her friends, they could do movie night another time. Then Quinn had dropped the bombshell that she wanted Rachel to come along too.

Years of torment had taught her to be cautious, and her sense of self preservation was telling her that this was a bad idea. Beware Cheerios bearing false gifts, or in this case party invites. She may have a deep and abiding love for classic movie musicals, but even she recognized this as the cliched plot to almost every ugly duckling teen drama since 1980. She was poised to decline, but then Quinn was looking at her with that soft smile, slowly batting those big hazel eyes, and softly stroking her forearm. Before she knew it she was agreeing to attend. Which brought her to her current predicament, about to face a room full of former tormentors, the only real ally their former ring leader.

"Oh Quinn I'm not worried about the girls. I'm sure once they get to know me we will all get along famously. Enough stalling, lead the way." Truth be told she was very worried about the girls, but she didn't want to burden Quinn with that. Pulling back she broke the embrace, feeling her shirt cling to her belly where the press of their bodies had caused perspiration to build. "What is on the agenda for tonight's soiree?" She clasped Quinn's hand in hers, needing the reassurance that the contact provided.

"Oh you know just typical sleepover stuff." Rachel didn't want to point out that she did not in fact know, since this was the last sleepover she had been to since she was eight. "Movies, games, you brought your swim suit right?"

"On under my clothes. Much more efficient." While it had been the Cheerios idea to have the sleepover it had been decided that Quinn's house would be the best place to have it. The heat of August had yet to dissipate and it was still uncomfortably hot. Her large in-ground pool, and the fact that they would have the house to themselves, made it the perfect location. As they walked down the hallway Rachel heard the murmur of female voices from the family room. Over the last months she had come to know Quinn's home almost as well as her own. Quinn's mom was still adjusting to the idea that her daughter had a girlfriend, but after the estrangement that her pregnancy caused she was trying her best to make amends. Part of those amends were the meetings, tonight's was AA, the nearest one was an hour away in Toledo, the other part was embracing Rachel into her home.

When the doorway to the family room was only a few paces away Rachel felt Quinn tug on her hand, pulling her to a stop. She sent her girlfriend a questioning look, really just wanting to get this over with before she lost her nerve. Delaying the inevitable rarely helped anything, and the nervous build up to an event was often times far worse then the actual event itself. Quinn tugged her closer and gave her one last kiss. Okay maybe delaying did have its benefits.

"Relax, don't be nervous, just have fun. If it turns out to be truly awful I promise I will make it up to you." Quinn breathed the words softly across her mouth, the husky quality of her voice letting Rachel know exactly how she planned to make it up to her. Rachel pulled back to smile are her reassuringly.

"I'll be fine. I have faced far more unpleasant situations, then a sleepover with my girlfriend." Rachel smiled at her teasingly. "Though I may hold you to that offer. I had plans for you tonight. Plans which this little party neatly derailed." Rachel lightly ran the fingers of her free hand lightly up Quinn's arm, wrist to shoulder, and then back. A pout formed on Quinn's bow shaped lips and one eyebrow rose in question.

"Plans? You never said anything about plans, I thought we were just getting together for movies."

"Well you thought incorrectly, I didn't want to say anything and ruin the surprise."

Quinn groaned softly. "Rachel! If you had something planned you should have said. It's not like a sleepover with the squad is that crucial."

"On the contrary Quinn. I know how much you missed being part of the Cheerios. You have just been reinstalled as captain, and this is the first get together that you've been able to have with them since.." Rachel broke off, knowing that the baby was still a tender subject. "..last year," she continued awkwardly. "It would have been a potential step back for you to refuse. My plans will keep, we have all weekend."

Quinn looked like she wanted to argue, but her insatiable need to know stilled further protest. "So what were the plans?"

"I can't divulge that Quinn. As they have not been spoiled, simply delayed, it would ruin the surprise. If you want to know you will simply have to wait." Rachel knew this would drive her girlfriend nuts. Quinn hated being out of the loop, Rachel attributed it to all those years running the gossip mill at McKinley. While she was still loathe to tip her hand, she had to ensure that the blonde didn't book her entire weekend. As predicted the blonde let out a frustrated groan.

"Rachel that's just mean! You know the only thing I hate more than surprises, is when someone tells me about the surprise, and then refuses to give me any information."

"If I must suffer you must suffer."

"Suffer? Why would the plans involve suffering?" Quinn doggedly asked.

Rachel smiled, her expression developing a slightly predatory glint. "Lets just say they involved you, me, and a house to ourselves." Quinn groaned, more loudly this time, at the pronouncement. "Alas, your resurgent social life has temporarily postponed my plan. Don't worry there is always tomorrow."

"Won't your Dads be around then?"

"No, they decided to take a mini-vacation to make sure their relationship doesn't get stale. I believe having a teenager in the house puts a certain crimp in their sexual activities and they need these periodic trips to let loose."

"Rachel!" Quinn squealed in horror. "That is so gross, how can you say that? Eww, just eww."

"Quinn, they are both healthy adult males." Rachel didn't see what the fuss was all about. "I would actually be more concerned if they weren't engaging in routine sexual congress." Quinn flinched, and scrunched her face up in disgust. "Studies have shown that couples that can maintain that spark of sexual desire stand a much better chance of sustaining a successful long term relationship. The rate of infidelity in monogamous relationships drops by..."

Quinn reached up and clamped a hand over the brunette's mouth. "Whatever you say Dr. Ruth. I'm glad your dads are so happy but trust me when I say I really don't want the details." Quinn dropped her hand and tugged on Rachel's arm. "C'mon, lets go face the inquisition." Rachel knew the comment was meant as a joke, but she wasn't so sure that a hot poker in the eye wouldn't be preferable.

The moment of truth had arrived and as they stepped through the doorway, Rachel braced herself for the worst. She was half expecting a slushy attack, which was silly really, Quinn would hardly allow them to throw the sticky, sugary drink in her family-room, it would totally destroy the leather furniture.

"Hey everyone, Rachel's finally here." Quinn dragged her into the room, and pushed her slightly out in front of her. Rachel scanned the room, when she had accepted the invitation she hadn't really thought to ask Quinn who would be attending. She was relieved to see that it was a relatively small group, only five girls counting Santana and Brittany. They were sprawled out across the three leather couches; sheets had been put down as a concession to the heat and to prevent their skin from sticking. She noted with some surprise that they were in casual clothes, for some reason she had expected them to all be in uniform.

Her relief that the group was small was short lived when she noticed who exactly was there. Santana and Brittany, of course, and though she would hardly classify her and Santana's relationship as friendly, they had established a truce of sorts. Rachel would try to not talk non-stop and irritate the fiery Latina, and Santana would try not to hurl hurtful barbs at her. It was in imperfect solution but for the most part it worked out pretty well. Next to her, practically in her lap, Rachel really didn't know who they thought there were fooling, sat Brittany. Rachel had never been able to get a good handle on the sweet, soft-spoken blonde, while she more or less went along with anything Santana proposed, there didn't seem to be any genuine malice in her actions.

Sitting together, though nowhere near as closely as Brittany and Santana, were Stacy May and Sarah Bean. Rachel had never formally spoken to either girl, but she was well acquainted with them. Stacy had a preference for lime slushies, extra large, while Sarah was a proponent of the verbal assault. When Quinn had been banished to the social leper colony of Glee, these two had stepped in to fill the void left behind. They were also the ones that had initiated the slushy attacks against Quinn, when all of the details of her pregnancy came to light. Not for the first time Rachel found herself marveling at the capricious nature of the high school social hierarchy.

The third girl Rachel couldn't put a name to, which she took as a good sign, if the cheerleader had been one of her regular tormentors she would have made sure to find out. Rachel didn't advocate revenge, per se, but figured it couldn't hurt to be prepared, and having an accurate list of targets was essential to any successful revenge plot.

"About damn time Berry," Santana grumbled. "Quinn wouldn't let us do anything but sit here until you showed."

"I apologize for my tardiness. As you know I hold punctuality in the highest regard. I would have been here sooner.."

"Whatever," the Latina cut her off. "You're here now so maybe we can finally do something besides sit here and sweat."

"Stacy, Sarah, Allison, have you met Rachel?" Quinn broke in, while Rachel and Santana had come to an understanding, it was still best to limit their interactions.

Rachel glanced at her girlfriend out of the corner of her eye. Surely she couldn't be that clueless. She might not like to talk about the first two year's of high school, and her treatment of the brunette, but surely she couldn't have forgotten the part at least two of these girls had played in the ongoing torment.

"Um, no, not formally," Stacy replied, clearly just as puzzled by the question. "But I recognize her from around school." Rachel bit back a tart reply. She should recognize her, as she had thrown ten lime, four grape, three cherry, and one orange slushy, at her since the start of freshman year. Instead of responding she simply smiled politely in reply.

"Well," Quinn continued on, Rachel could hear the thread of nervous tension in the blonde's voice; maybe she wasn't so clueless after all. "What does everyone want to do? We can do movies, games.." Quinn let the question trail off.

"I think we should just hang out for a little. I mean it's been so long and we have a lot to catch up on. Plus we hardly know anything about Rachel." Though Stacy was smiling Rachel couldn't help but wonder if there was an ulterior motive at play, but Quinn wanted her to get along with her friends, so she tramped down her doubt.

"Sounds like a splendid idea. The act of polite social discourse to ascertain others likes and dislikes is becoming a lost art." Rachel knew she was babbling, it always got worse when she was nervous, and she hadn't been this nervous since right after her and Quinn's first kiss. Her nerves had led her to a five minute ramble about the nature of sexual attraction, the varying theories about sexual fluidity, the propensity for some girls to experiment with their sexuality in their late teens, and finally an analysis of the Kinsey scale. The lecture probably could have gone ten minutes, but Quinn had mercifully shut her up with another kiss.

"Huh?" Brittany asked, clearly puzzled.

"She means we should talk and get to know each other and shit," Santana translated.

"Does anyone want anything to drink?" Quinn was still standing by the doorway, her restless fingers betraying her nerves.

"You got any beer?" Santana questioned.

"Um, no, no beer."

"Whatever flavor pop you have on hand is fine with me, diet would be great," Rachel offered, not wanting her girlfriend to dwell to much on the subject of alcohol. Quinn hadn't really told a lot of people about her mother attempt to stop drinking, and Santana wasn't really the heartfelt revelation type of friend.

"I could really go for a slushy," Stacy piped up. "Couldn't you Sarah? They are just so refreshing in this heat. Anyone up for a run to the store?"

Rachel stiffened involuntarily at the mention of the frosty beverage. She thought she caught a hint of malice in the cheerleaders voice but couldn't be sure. Quinn rested her hand on Rachel's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Rachel just got here I don't really want to run out," Quinn replied.

"Pops fine with me then," Stacy replied easily, making Rachel doubt her earlier fear. Get a grip Berry, not everyone is out to get you. Sarah and Allison nodded their assent as well.

"Okay, I'll go get the drinks. Rachel why don't you sit and get know everyone." Quinn pushed her gently towards the sofa that Allison was seated on. Rachel balked slightly and went turned around to face her girlfriend.

"Are you sure you don't want help with the beverages? That much liquid can be quite heavy, I don't want you to strain anything." Rachel pleaded with her eyes for Quinn to not leave her alone in a room full of Cheerios. Either Quinn wasn't picking up her distress signal, or she chose to ignore it.

"Don't be silly." Quinn roller her eyes. "I am a Cheerio, we spend most of the day tossing each other into the air. Go. Sit. Mingle." Rachel sighed, knowing this battle had been lost. Quinn had that determined look in her eye that meant she was getting her way, come hell or high water. Rachel felt Quinn turn her shoulders and point her back towards the group of lounging cheerleaders.

She gingerly walked over and took a seat, perching on the edge of the sofa next to Allison.

"Hi." Rachel smiled awkwardly, and held out her hand. "I'm Rachel. I don't mean to be rude but I don't recognize you from around school."

"Oh, well I just moved here this summer," Allison stammered. Well that certainly explained why she hadn't been able to put a name to the girl. The girl refused to meet her eyes, and Rachel decided she must be shy. Odd that, a shy cheerleader, most couldn't wait to be the center of attention. "Um, nice shirt."

"Oh, why thank you. I just got it last week on a shopping excursion," Rachel replied brightly. Getting compliments on her appearance was a new development, one she discovered she enjoyed immensely.

"Yeah Rachel that is a nice shirt, though it's not really your usual style is it?" Sarah asked a patently false smile firmly in place.

"No, not my usual choice in apparel. Quinn and I went shopping and she picked it out for me," Rachel replied warily, bracing for the typical caustic reply.

"Oh that explains it then," Sarah answered, her tone thoughtful. Here it comes, thought Rachel with weary resignation. "Quinn always did have wonderful taste in clothes." Rachel let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding, and rolled her tense shoulders; mingling while being on high alert was exhausting work.

"Yes, she does." Rachel paused, not really sure what to say. "So, what does one usually talk about at these gatherings?"

"Oh you know, who's hot, who's not, how horrible Coach Sylvester is, the latest school gossip, who is on the hit list for slush…" Stacy broke off, and brought her hand to cover her mouth. "Shit, I'm sorry." She didn't look sorry in the least. "That's probably a sore subject."

Rachel smiled tightly in return. "Nonsense. Just as long as I'm not still on the top of the list."

"Of course not," Sarah sounded slightly scandalized. "Now that you're friends with Quinn, we could never slushy you." Rachel didn't miss the emphasis on the word friend, she opened her mouth to retort, when she was stopped by the sound of ice clinking against glasses. Take a breath Berry, the last thing Quinn wants is for you to launch into her friends.

"Everybody getting along?" Quinn appeared in the doorway, sounding slightly winded, bearing a large tray full of snacks.

"Of course Q, why wouldn't we be," Stacy reassured her with a smile. Rachel grimaced, she hated when people referred to Quinn as Q, she always had the insane urge to follow it with either –ball or –tip. "We were just complimenting Rachel on her new threads."

"Oh I know, isn't it cute," Quinn gushed as she walked over and placed the tray of drinks on the coffee table. Quinn squeezed into the small bit of space left between Rachel and the arm of the sofa. It was a tight fit, and the temperature made it a bit uncomfortable, but Rachel couldn't have been happier. The insecure part of her worried that Quinn wouldn't want to seem to friendly in front of the Cheerios.

Quinn reached up and brushed Rachel's long brunette locks back, exposing her left shoulder. Quinn rested her hand on the newly exposed flesh and ran her thumb in light, caressing circles. "I told her she has such great shoulders and arms she shouldn't hide them all the time. Don't you guys think?"

"Uh, yeah, we don't really spend our time checking out Berry," Santana replied in a disgusted tone. The comment elicited some answering laughs of agreement from the other cheerleaders, Quinn scowled in annoyance.

"I think Quinn's right," Brittany replied thoughtfully after the chuckles died down, running her eyes over the singer. "Rachel has really nice muscle tone and definition. I never really noticed before but Rachel's kinda hot." Rachel felt herself flush under the appraising gaze.

"Brittany!" Santana protested loudly, sounding horrified. "It is not okay to perv on..on Berry. Especially not in front of yo..her girlfriend." If anyone noticed Santana's almost slip they let it pass. Rachel resisted, barely, the urge to roll her eyes at the dense Cheerio, anyone with eyes and a pulse knew there was something more than friendship between the two squad mates.

Santana shook her head, as if to try and dispel the disturbing thought of anyone, let alone two someones, finding Berry attractive. "Ok so after that little revelation I definitely need a drink, or ten, who's up for a game of I Never?"