Summary: Quinn Fabray deals with jealousy and frustration when her girlfriend, Rachel Berry, shows up to school looking like she's come straight out of a Britney Spears video.

Rated: M (language and things that are mentioned but don't actually happen)

You have got to be kidding me. "For Britney week," my ass. She's doing this on purpose. She wants to drive me crazy. She wants everyone to be staring at her. Wants me to have to beat these hounds off with a stick. I will if I have to.

"Hey, baby," Rachel pecks Quinn's lips, "How are you this morning?"

"I'd be a lot better if you weren't parading your body for everyone in school to see," grumbling, Quinn shoves a book into her locker.

"Quinn, I told you when I texted you the picture last night, it's for Britney Week. I thought you said you liked it."

Quinn slams her locker shut and turns to face her girlfriend, "I liked it when it was just for me. Not when every guy at school is ogling at you."

The cheerio brushes past the diva, strutting down the hallway in her classic HBIC ferocity, and leaving Rachel gaping.

The day was torture for Quinn. Pushing aside the fact that she had to deal with watching guys fawn over her girlfriend and constantly being told how "fucking hot" her girl is, like she doesn't know, she'd also had to deal with seeing Rachel for herself. In school. Where she couldn't touch her. Not the way she needed to, anyway.

By the time glee rolled around, the poor girl was a mess.

Her blonde pony bounces when her head jolts up upon hearing cat calls echoing in the choir room. Just as expected, Rachel came strolling into the room. Quinn's hazel eyes got wider with each stride of Rachel's long legs. The tiny diva took her place on the top row next to Quinn, "Hi. Are you still mad at me?"

"I wasn't mad- I'm not mad. I'm just..." sexually frustrated, "annoyed."

"I'll change once I finish my number, okay?" Quinn just nods and crosses her legs.

"Okay! Who's up first?" Rachel's hand flies into the air. Shit. Quinn prepares herself. This was a lose/lose situation. She has to watch her girlfriend flaunt herself in front of the eyes of hormonal teenage boys and she has to force herself not to jump her girlfriend in front of the entire glee club.

|| It's Britney, Bitch

Oh, god.

By the time the song ends, Quinn is squirming in her seat.

"Fuck, Berry got hot," Puck's voice cuts through the lust cloud surrounding the blonde.

Quinn's eyes focus a glare on the back of his head. Another glance at Rachel and a mumbled agreement from Finn and Quinn can't take it anymore. She bolts from her seat. On her way out of the room, she mumbles something to the effect of "That was amazing, baby."

"Quinn?" Rachel finds her girlfriend in the bathroom closest to the choir room, hunched over the sink and heaving deep breaths. She stands against Quinn's left side, running her right hand up and down the girl's tense back. "Baby, are you okay? Is it what Puck said? I have extra clothes in my locker, I'll go change right now if you-"

Quinn's lips are on hers immediately. Rachel feels cold tile against her back through the thin fabric of her sweater. She arches away from the chill and into Quinn, tan hands tangling into blonde hair. The touch of pale hands to hips covered by a criminally short skirt triggers a moan from the smaller girl.

The blonde pulls back, leaning her forehead against Rachel's. Rachel almost misses the word that leaves Quinn's lips beneath the growl that comes with it, "Mine." The statement barely registers before she feels soft lips against her own once again.