"Quinn? Come in here for a moment please."

Quinn closed her eyes and groaned internally for a moment as she paused outside her father's study, her journey from the kitchen to her bedroom interrupted by her father's request. It was generally not a good thing to be summoned into his presence as she had just been, but the only thing worse was keeping him waiting. So she uses her hip to push her way into the study and lets the door swing closed behind her.

"Yes Sir?"

Russell glanced up, one hand already gesturing towards the empty chair in front of his desk, but as his eyes landed on the tray of refreshments Quinn was carrying, he paused.

"Do we have guests?"

Quinn wanted to roll her eyes at her father predictability but she managed to reframe. Typically, everything else in the Fabray household stopped when guests arrived so that the family could project the appropriate united front and to say he would be annoyed to find out he had not been notified of any such arrivals would be an understatement.

"Santana and Brittany." Quinn explained, "We're working on some Cheerio's routines."

Her father grunted and nodded. Santana and Brittany didn't count as guests, mainly because they were Quinn's friends and they were over so often. They didn't rate his attention but the supply of refreshments was appropriate and, of course, Quinn's responsibility.

"Well they can wait a few minutes." He said with a wave of his hand, "Put that down and come, sit."

Quinn found a spot to deposit her tray before crossing to take her place before her father. She sat up straight, ankles crossed demurely and hands folded in her lap, and discreetly eyed the papers on her father's desk as she waited for him to speak.

"It's time we start seriously considering your future Quinn." Russell decreed. "You've had the opportunity to have fun but now we need to take thing seriously. To that end I've been reviewing appropriate partners for you and…"

Quinn heart sunk as her father droned on. She had been dreading this particular discussion all summer but she knew It had been coming because her sister, Frannie, had been on the receiving end of her own version just before she started her second year of high school.

Russell apparently felt that one year of high school was sufficient for his daughters to make their own decisions about who they would date and that by the time they reached their second year, they need to get serious about their future. And getting serious meant dating someone who was going somewhere and could take appropriate care of his daughter. He was old fashioned enough that the possibility of one of his daughters being successful on her own and taking care of herself didn't even cross his mind.

Frannie had been lucky, the suitor their father had selected for her happened to be the boy she wanted to date anyway. Quinn wasn't holding out any hope for a similarly happy outcome.

"This Finn Hudson boy…" Russell began.

"He's on track to be the main string quarterback this year." Quinn said, risking her father's displeasure by interrupting him, "If the team does well he could end up with a football scholarship to almost any university."

"The boy is an idiot." Russell decreed, "He has an IQ so low that I'm sure he's not even smart enough to be embarrassed about it. And from what I've seen of his ability on the football field, the only reason he's going to make quarterback is because the coach is as stupid as he is. No, not suitable."

The file with Finn's name on the front was unceremoniously dumped into the trash can. Quinn didn't count it as a loss, the popularity boost of dating the quarterback would have been useful, but she seriously did not see anything with Finn lasting.

"Noah Puckerman." Russell says picking up the next folder, "Unreliable, crude, trouble maker and aspirant ladies man. No."

Noah's folder joined Finn's in the trash can. One by one her father worked his way through every boy in her year, eliminating one after the other. All Quinn could do was sit and nod at every declaration of unsuitability, sometimes feeling relief when the likes of Jacob Ben Israel were summarily dismissed without comment. Names passed so quickly that Quinn actually lost track of who has been dismissed and who hasn't. So when only one folder remained on her father's desk, she had no idea who it belonged to.

"So" her father says after a moments pause, "There is only one candidate in your year with the potential, talent and, more importantly, drive to actually make something of themselves and thus be worthy suitor for one of my daughters."

The name written on the folder was so small that Quinn couldn't read it from her position, but that didn't matter because Russell turned the folder around and handed it over.

The name written on the front was Rachel Barbra Berry.