So this is just a little idea I came up with when I was, yanno. Sitting around, being bored. I was thinking about how dating has rules, and then I thought, hey, I should write a FanFic about that! Maybe - since I had just been reading Glee fanfiction - a story for Glee! Anyway, not a whole lot of action, and a bit of rambling. But it's pretty long for me, and I wouldn't say it's bad! Have fun,


She sits, chin in palms and elbows on knees, on her pink and orange flowery bedding, apparently deep in thought. The expression on her darkly colored face is somewhat absent, but clearly melancholy. Rachel Berry is brooding, rather than acting on instinct, something she knows is out of character for her, but she simply can't help it. She tries to put a bright face on everything, but inside she's filled with turmoil.

She knows what she did with Puck was wrong, and knows she deserves to be alone. Knows she should be better off, to quote the popular song by Chris Brown, "flying solo." But she still misses Finn, and just can't quit contemplating why all her relationships go wrong. She's aware that she makes mistakes, and that it's only human to do so. But she still feels that she makes more than the average teen girl does. So she's decided to attempt to remedy her depression with, rather than an alcohol party, a run of the mill girl's night.

She has everything she knows she should – sleeping bags, pillows, chocolate, popcorn, and movies featuring smoking hot actors like Ashton Kutcher, Shia Labeouf, and Orlando Bloom. Now all she needs is girl friends.

The door bell rings and she's jerked out of her reverie, jumping up from her bed and rushing down the stairs to the front door, slowing down before she gets there in order to seem casual. She calms herself – its not often Rachel has all the Glee girls over – and turns the doorknob, pulls open the door. Outside on her doorstep stands Mercedes.

Rachel grins, greeting her guest with a "Hey there!" and a hug. Mercedes returns the welcome, stepping into the house and looking around.

"So, is anyone else here yet?" she asks, and Rachel responds with a slight frown.

"No, you're the first," she smiles. "But I'm sure they'll be along soon." She escorts the other girl to the living room, seating her on the couch in front of the family television and offering all the things she knows a hostess should – food, water, television.

The two singers sit in the Berry's living room somewhat awkwardly, not sure of what to do or say. Thankfully, their mutual silence is interrupted with the sharp ding-dong of the doorbell. Rachel leaps to her feet once more, grinning at Mercedes in apology for her rush, and practically sprints to the front door once more, moving the barrier to reveal Quinn Fabray, who stands there smiling unsurely. Rachel attempts to hide her initial reaction, a dropped jaw of shock, with as much enthusiasm as she can muster.

"Uh, Quinn, hey! Thanks for showing up, you're only the second… Come on in!" Rachel plasters on a grin that, after just a few seconds, begins to make the corners of her mouth ache. She refuses to yield to the pain on her face, and just tries to widen the smile.

Quinn replies hesitantly in her soft voice, "Hey, Rachel." And the two return to the living room once more.

The three girls keep each other company from three separate seats, Mercedes stretching herself out on the couch, Quinn leaning calmly into the love seat, and Rachel sitting uncomfortably and properly on the chair in the corner of the room. They exchange pleasantries, none quite sure of what to do. They each hope that soon Santana or Brittany will arrive – they're always the life of the party. But, after forty-five minutes of waiting, the girls have to accept that it's just them.

"Well," Rachel begins slowly, "It seems that you two are the only ones who wanted to show up... Which hurts my feelings, but this should be great anyway." She plasters a grin onto her face. "Everyone else'll be totally sorry they missed our crazy party." Her facial expression turns upside-down to a deep frown, and she corrects herself. "But not as crazy as the last one."

The other two girls giggle at her joke, and Quinn answers the brunette. "So, what are we gonna do?"

Rachel pauses for a moment, putting a finger to her chin as though in thought. "Well, I've seen teen girl parties on TV programs and movies, yanno? So I got popcorn, and chocolate, and movies!" Her mouth reverses its position once more. "That's all right, right?"

Mercedes and Quinn chuckle, answering her with nods and yes's. Rachel smiles in return. "Okay, then. I have everything up in my room – let's go!"

The three girls nearly stampede to Rachel's room, ice broken, grinning and laughing along the way. Rachel had brought a few chairs up just for the occasion – Mercedes and Quinn each plop into one as Rachel pops The Killers into the DVD player.

The three friends sit together, enjoying each other's company in silence as they watch the movie and munch on popcorn from the gigantic bowl Rachel had popped and brought up.

After the movie ends, however, Rachel resumes the position she had had before the other girls had shown up – her depressed slouch. Mercedes frowns, coming over to the girl's bed and sitting by her. "What's wrong?" she wonders aloud.

"It's… It's nothing," the brunette mutters. "I just… Well, hey, we're supposed to share secrets at sleepovers, right?" She straightens up hopefully.

Mercedes smiles. "Well, sure. What's going on with you?"

Rachel frowns again. "I was just… You know, thinking. You know how that's bad for me." She attempts a laugh, and the others smile with her. "Well, I was just trying to figure out how… Why…" The frown deepens. "I've dated, what, three, four guys in the last year? And… They've all ended in disaster. And I can't help wondering what I'm doing wrong."

Mercedes throws her hands up in the air in a gesture of defeat. "Sorry, Rachel. But you know there's know way I can help you with that. The guy I liked last year… Well, you know the story." A look of helplessness clouds her face, and she looks to the blonde ex-cheerleader across the room for aid.

Quinn sighs and stands up to walk over and sit with the other two girls. "Okay, Rachel. I'll try. But… You know I don't have the best track record either." She frowns a bit at the memory of the year before. But hey, here goes.

See, there are some rules to dating that everyone's supposed to follow – if the relationship isn't weird, at least." She giggles a bit at her joke. "Anyway, do you have a paper and pen? I'll write them all down for you, in a list." She laughs again.

Rachel smiles back at her. "Right, here," she hands over a fresh pad of white lined paper and a black ballpoint pen. The blonde girl takes a moment, and the only sound in the room is the scratch of a metal tip leaving trails of ink on a no longer blank sheet.

After a couple of minutes of near silence, Mercedes and Rachel sitting on the edge of their seats in anticipation, Quinn takes pen off paper, clicks the writing utensil, places it on Rachel's table, and holds the list up for all to see. The other two girls scan the top page of the notebook quickly, taking in as much as they can before Quinn turns it back around and begins to read aloud.

"Courtsmanship, the Rules of Dating," she reads aloud, then smiles. "Get it? Cuz when people dated way back when, they called it courting. So, it's like sportsmanship, only courtsmanship!" The other two girls laugh, roll their eyes and urge her to continue.

"Numero Uno. This might be obvious, but… No cheating on your boyfriend." A small look of sadness comes across her face. "I think me and Rachel already learned that lesson… But hey, Mercedes, bet you never will." And she gives a small smile, then reads on.

"Two. Girlfriends are allowed to check out other guys, and can, but probably shouldn't, tell their boyfriends about them. Boyfriends can't even look.

"Three. On both sides, when girl or boy says something bad about themselves, you have to contradict them!" Quinn grins at the next bit, "Even if you agree." The other two giggle and laugh along with her before she goes on.

"Four. And this is more about friendship than romance, but it still applies… No matter how much you want to, DO NOT ditch your friends for your boyfriend." She shakes her head and adds onto what she's already written. "It's just not cool. And doesn't work out.

"Five. Be polite around your boyfriend's parents. Like, use 'ma'am' and 'sir'. And don't be all… Touchy-feely around them either. Also, don't sing to the parents about it. If you get knocked up. Doesn't work.

"Six. PDA. It's okay at minimal amounts, but making out with your boyfriend for ten minutes in the middle of the high school hallway is just gross.

"Seven. Don't be needy. I mean, go ahead and ask your boyfriend to do favors for you. But not too much. Then it just gets awkward.

"Eight. And this is the last one I could think of on the spot… If you're gonna have sex? 'Just trust me' is really crappy protection. Don't use it."

The room is filled with silence for a moment as Mercedes and Rachel process this, and Quinn waits. "Okay," is the first word Rachel says. The blonde girl rips the sheet out of the notebook, folds it into a neat, nearly perfect square, and hands it to the brunette. Rachel opens the drawer on the front of her bedside table, drops the scrap of paper into it, and closes the container holding both the list and any thoughts of the subject.

After a few minutes of awkward stillness, Rachel rises from the bed, walks over to the television, and places the DVD Pirates of the Caribbean into the player. All three girls turn to examine the hotness that is the actors of the movie, and they dissolve into girly gossip.

The morning after, they eat pancakes and discuss everything about their movie night – with the exception of the list. Its existence and its contents are acknowledged by each, but never spoken of again.

It's their little secret.

Okay, cool, great, terrific! Was it any of the above? As I've heard said, reviews are love. Or hate. (I added that last part myself.) Til next time,