A/N Ratings and disclaimers from Chapter One apply.

Very short but have to go help a friend after (a successful) surgery and wanted to update. More Gleek stuff—and hey, they're kids-they'll talk about sex. And I make up a song for this chapter for Mr. Schue to horrify the kids with.


As the two girls approached Brittany and Rachel, Santana said, "Can we get in on this party or is it private?"

Rachel kissed Brittany on the cheek and said, "We'll have to finish later."

Brittany patted her as the smaller girl got up, "Definitely."

Quinn raised one eyebrow, "Finish what exactly?"

Rachel smiled. That sounded jealous. Good. She immediately decided to dismiss why that felt good.

As Santana sat down across from Rachel, Brittany sat next to her and said, "Rach made up the best game like maybe ever in history."

"Did she now," Quinn said as she took a seat next to Rachel's and smiled at the girl helping adjust her cast in an extra chair.

"It's epic. What you do is you think of something you don't know how to do—and like…well, like she said, that's sort of almost everything and then talk about it like you know how. So we were talking about fixing a ginormous air conditioner for an apartment complex—and we got to just make up the names of tools and parts and stuff. Rach, I think we need to finish the air conditioner and then drive a submarine."

Rachel grinned at her, "Captain Brittany ahoy."

"I think we'd totally have something like police have so we could talk to whales super loud so we wouldn't bump into them, don't you?"

"Absolutely!"

Santana looked with a mixture of disbelief and amusement across the table at Quinn who closed her eyes for a moment and then smiled. "I sincerely don't know why you two don't just run the planet."

"We'll try that after driving the submarine, Brittany!"

Santana crossed herself.


"Mind if I join you," Finn asked even as he took a seat next to Brittany because she was the least threatening person at the table.

Rachel was next to never what she considered deliberately impolite. However, she'd been reminded she had a tendency for impetuous frankness and she was working on that but Finn was, how would Santana put it? Right. He was working on her last nerve. "I suppose not, Finn, although I fail to see the point."

"Well, we're all friends, right?"

"Not even." Santana said.

"Not really." Brittany concurred.

"Not at all." Quinn smiled at him as she took a bite of her sandwich.


Jealousy sucked, Puck decided. He'd felt it. Sure. But watching Finn being all jelly over what he didn't even want was stupid. What was that shit called way back? Oh yeah. Dog in the haystack.

He loved the guy but as he watched Finn lumbering over to his girls' table, he decided he'd be damned if he'd leave his baby m—no, he corrected himself, his child's mother and, well, a really hot Jew with Finnlameass. San he trusted to fend for herself and Britt, and didn't anyone know that.

He strode over and sat next to Rachel and pulled his seat close to hers. "Hey Jew. Whatcha got for lunch? I betcha I got something you can eat. My mom is on some health kick and made me some crazy veggie wrap crap. Let's do the taste test—maybe we can trade."

Finn sort of hated the fact that Rachel smiled and rested her head on the boy's arm fondly before she said, "Let's look. And you may be surprised, Noah. Vegetarian and vegan food is delicious."

Quinn didn't like it but she didn't hate it because Puck was looking into her eyes. It was Protective!Puck looking back at her.

She gave him the slightest nod and he winked at her.

As they traded food, there was a food skirmish between the glitter twins.

"Britts—just gimme."

"No! I can eat it."

"You don't like it and I'll talk to our mom. Our mami packed something better for both of us today."

"You don't like it!"

"I can eat it—and it makes you not eat. You need to eat. You're a racehorse."

"HOLD UP" Quinn said loudly, "Who's in charge here?"

Santana looked relieved, for a change, to say, "You, bitch."

"True story. What's the problem?"

Santana answered, "Our mom—I mean Britts' mom got all sorts of crazy over some bargain on pickle loaf last week, right? And she's been feeding it to my baby for lunch and I can eat that shit and Britts acts like she eats it but she doesn't and she feeds the bread to birds and the meat to that fat-ass Boston Terrier named Samson for some whosy-whatsy reason a block from her house."

"How'd you know that, San?"

"I like, uh, basically live with you and I've seen you do it?"

"Oh." Brittany nodded, "Right. That's true."

"Serious up, Britts? We'll feed the birds and Samson but our mami packed something for both of us to eat. Pickle loaf can go to hell."

Brittany looked at Santana with such burning adoration that it made Rachel's throat feel like it was closing.

So she decided to change the subject, "What is pickle loaf?" Everyone at the table except her seemed to know.

Finn was about to explain but Santana snapped her fingers and gave him a dire look, "Don't say a monosyllable, Finnessa. You? Frodo? If you really wanna know, I'll tell you after school. Privately. It's not reasonable. It's edible but unreasonable."

"Food isn't reasonable or unreasonable. It can be ethical or unethical. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Snap! Exactly my reaction three quarters of the times you open your mouth, hobbit, and not because I don't have two neurons to rub together, as I believe you know at this point."

"Fine. I'll pretend you aren't insulting me."

"Fine. I'll pretend I'm not going to choke you to death in the bathroom later and make it look like auto-erotic asphyxiation."

"Fine. Even in that exigency, I'm sure Quinn would be fully capable of composing a memorial tribute for the yearbook suitable to my character and dignity despite the circumstances of my quietus."

"Quietus? Santana grinned, "The primary and secondary denotations and connotations of that word joined with this ridonkulous discussion rock the nuance. Bitch, you are fine. If your vocabulary were an ass I'd tell you to back that up and I promise I'd do it right."

Brittany looked at Rachel. "Told you."

Finn literally had no idea what the two girls had said but it sounded mean and made him nervous. Puck and Brittany didn't really understand but they understood the two girls were joking. Quinn understood and rolled her eyes. "Can we please just eat lunch before killing each other or declaring endless love over vocabulary because I need a pain pill."

Rachel popped to attention, "You've had three bites of your sandwich, baby—you can take your medicine." She rubbed the girl's back as if that would make the pain go away and Quinn smiled at her.

Finn didn't know what to think about Rachel's reaction and especially the word baby. Puck merely lifted an eyebrow as he sifted through Rachel's lunch items. Things were getting interesting.


At the Gleeks' table, Artie, Mercedes, Kurt, Tina and Mike were watching and pondering the imponderable.

"She annoys all of us," Artie said, "But this is so messed up if they're playing Rachel."

"Oh, they're not." Mercedes said. She and Kurt had decided a tiny bit of disclosure would go a long way and, hey, it was all innocent, right? "Me and my boy had zombie movie night Saturday with Rachel and Quinn and her daddies because they were totally having a sleepover."

At the astonishment on the others' faces, Kurt confirmed, "Mercedes tells the truth. The movie scarred me for life and I'll never again walk into a mall without thinking how I could possibly barricade all the exits but yes, Quinn and Rachel sat next to each other and watched an entire movie without incident."

"Well, that's good, right? That they're getting to be friends?"

Artie looked at Mike in disbelief, "They're mortal enemies so that doesn't happen overnight. I'm telling you I'm not buying it."

"I'm just saying it could happen."

Tina ran a hand over Mike's arm, a sight that still never failed to irritate Artie, as she said, "I think Mike's right. It's too soon for us to pass judgment."

"Although…I suppose Quinn does pass judgement on all of us only, perhaps, every day our lives."

"Preach, Kurt."

Mercedes' eyes widened as she looked meaningfully at Kurt and said, "Don't go encouraging this or it's gonna get back. And best believe there'll be some kick back, if not blow back. We've said enough."

"Thank you. I'm sure you're right," Kurt said primly.

With that, Artie, Mike and Tina realized that the other two knew something they didn't. Something so ominous that it kept even them from indulging in their rabid delight in spreading gossip.

Which had to be something about Quinn.


The rest of the day went fairly normally, if one could call normal having Quinn Fabray and Santana acting nicely toward Rachel Berry, which one could not.

It finally landed them all in Glee, where everyone but the four girls had realized they either were on another page or in another book.

As they waited on Mr. Schue to make his appearance, and when weren't they, Rachel yet again arranged Quinn's chair but when she sat next to her, Santana planted herself on Rachel's other side. "Yeah. Just so you and Britts can keep those wandering hands to yourselves."

"There's nothing wrong with affection, Santana."

"With my baby? When it makes me want to throw up? Yeah. There sorta is."

Brittany took her seat next to Santana but reached around her back to rub Rachel's shoulder and said, "San. Be nice. Rach is totally nice to pet. You should try it."

Santana narrowed her eyes at Rachel, who had the wisdom not to laugh.


Will walked into the room and he was beaming, which to all the kids in the room meant he'd probably thought of another disastrous song choice.

"Guys! Sorry I'm late—and Quinn—I'm so sorry about your foot. I heard about it earlier."

"Thank you, Mr. Schue. I only hope my, let's say, impediment and sorry for that pun, can be accommodated."

"What do you mean?"

"I have to use crutches but for our numbers? For the next two months, I can use a wheelchair. I don't have Artie's skills but we've all done choreography in wheelchairs. Choreographed well, I suppose it could lend a sort of symmetry, so to speak."

"That's the spirit!" Truthfully, after hearing about Quinn's foot, he hadn't planned out much more than wrapping his mind around having to deal with a very testy Quinn Fabray and what that would mean for the rest of the club. That she was being so seemingly helpful and reasonable was somehow slightly alarming to him. As was the fact that Rachel was sitting next to her and smiling.

"I had a brain wave this weekend! We've done soul music so why not change it up and do a Latin set? Show some love, right?"

Everyone turned to Santana, who whispered, "Ay dios mio," before saying, "How about because I'm like the token Latina, giving it up instead for our two Asians? There's plenty of C-Pop, J-Pop and Hindi-Pop to go around. Right, Chang-C-Chang?"

Quinn reached across Rachel and thumped Santana hard even as Mike and Tina nodded in agreement.

"The fu—" Santana censored herself before saying, "Thump me again Q, and you're gonna need another cast. Mike, Tina? Sorry if that last bit that sounded a little somethin-somethin' and I didn't mean it that way but you bring it on yourselves for having pretty much the same last names. And what's up with that, anyway?"

Before they could answer, Will tried to say something but as usual, Rachel beat him to it, "I must say although I'm not as familiar with the music in those genres as in the Latin, Santana's idea is fair."

Rachel supporting Santana. Weird, Will thought. "Point taken, guys! We'll do Latin. Then Asian music. This is incredibly exciting!"

He turned to the white board and Rachel threw up her hands and looked at Santana who just motioned with one hand that clearly meant. "I know right?"

Quinn couldn't help herself. "Let me guess, Mr. Schue. J-Lo or Shakira or Marc Anthony or Ricky Martin?"

Santana had crossed her arms, which was never a good sign.

"We could do all of them—but I found a great really old, old school song from the 1920s that I think we could showcase. It's called, I Learned to Tango!"

"I'm thinking we'll have a female soloist dance the tango with one of our guys." He passed out sheet music to all of them and he nodded at Brad who started to play.

As Mr. Schue half-sang the words to give them a feel for it, all of the kids became increasingly mortified.

Once it was over, Brittany offered, to the surprise of everyone in the room who entirely agreed with her assessment, "Mr. Schue? This is about a girl losing her virginity."

Will stabbed at the air with his Sharpie—"In a dance sense, yes, Brittany. I mean, I can remember my first Bossa Nova like it was yesterday."

Brittany whispered, "No. I meant like really."

Santana could feel the pin the tail on the Latina donkey in the air. "Mr. Schue? Before you go there? Not the song for me—not me lyrically or musically. I'd suggest giving it to Rachel. She'd do it justice."

She smirked at Rachel as the smaller girl and Quinn glared at her. Even Brittany got the joke and frowned.

Rachel narrowed her eyes at Santana and then smiled at her teacher, "Unless one of the other girls in the room offers, never let it be said I won't take one for the team, figuratively speaking of course."

Shocked silence.

"I thought not. As Santana has suggested, I've never had the pleasure of doing the tango, so I think I should choose the partner I'd be the most comfortable with, don't you, Mr. Schue?"

He grinned at her, "Of course."

"Thank you. I'm glad you see my point. Naturally I'd only want to do it with one of our best and most experienced dancers and although I esteem Mike greatly, I think I'd prefer to do it with Brittany. Would you consider doing it with me, Brittany?"

Quinn glanced from Rachel to Brittany and snorted because the blonde girl had totally gotten the joke. "Totally. I'd love to do it with you, Rach."

The whole room stifled a laugh except for Santana who was radiating heat and Will who was slightly confused and Finn who was completely confused.

"But Rachel, traditionally—this would be—"

"I understand. But if, as you said, this song is about a girl learning to do a dance, surely there's nothing wrong with one girl teaching another to do it."

"I suppose not."

"Fine. I want to do it with Brittany. And she wants to do it with me. She's a gifted choreographer and I'll be happy to take the sheet music home and work on it tonight if she's available."

Brittany nodded.

"And it just so happens that my fathers will be out of the house so we can do it anywhere we want and be as loud as we want. Sound good, Brittany?"

Brittany giggled. "Perfect."

Will and Finn knew they were missing something important but the rest of the class were completely pie-eyed.

Puck settled into his seat, laughed and thought yum.

As they walked out of class, Rachel was nervous because she could tell Brittany and Quinn were nervous about Santana. They flanked her as they left the room and Santana said, "Oh please. I'm not about to hurt our little pony. But don't think I don't needsta speak to her. Walk on, blondes. Me and tiny will catch up."

"S?"

"Q? I won't put a finger on her."

"Don't be mean, San."

She smiled at Brittany, "No worries, baby."

As the girls reluctantly left them, Rachel braced herself for blunt force trauma at the least.

Santana glared around them at the hall, which suggested the worst to the smaller girl, then to her surprise, began to laugh. "Midget can play hardball! News at 11!"

She stepped closer, "Listen and learn. Only because that was actually sort of funny? I'm letting your smack down go. Just this once. And here you go. Just 'cause I love ya, I gotsda tell you what pickle loaf is."

She leaned forward, whispered the ingredients into Rachel's ear and the girl reeled back into the wall, "That's an ABOMINATION!"

"Wha wha? Payback's hell, Little Dougie."

A/N More real Faberry next time.