Disclaimer: I own nothing really, just borrowing the characters for a little joyride

Pairing: Eventual Quinn/Rachel
Spoilers: Anything up to that has already aired. Starts in around Theatricality-ish.

A/N: First Glee fic here. Not so good at Rachel's voice, so starting mostly with Quinn's point of view. Why I feel I can get inside a pregnant teen's head, rather than a rambling perfectionist diva's is beyond me. Constructive crit on tense much appreciated, as it's unbeta'd. Title cribbed from Lisa Hannigan song I Don't Know, which in true ishuffle fashion, inspired this. Along with Peter Gabriel song, which will come up in last chapter…

Quinn is lost in thought as she observes Rachel Berry move with her usual purposeful stride down the halls of McKinley High. Her determined chin up, books crossed over her chest. Her chemistry book probably offered a modicum of protection from the inevitable slushie attacks. Berry somehow always seemed to go on about her day with that damned Streisand "I'm a comer" attitude.

Quinn shakes her head, letting slip a rueful half smile. She had to give the fashion-challenged diva credit. She doesn't understand how other girl just shrugs off the barrage of abuse, like water off a platypus' back. And then just carries on, never crumbling like her tormentors (herself once included) want. She supposes that annoying self-belief was just an incredibly irritating, but necessary, tool for survival.

She continues watching as the singer prudently sticks close to the wall, skimming the lockers when possible, trying to present a more difficult target she supposed. It was an ever so subtle nod to self-preservation, and Quinn silently approved. It was, however, completely against Berry's 'Look at me!' nature. And it was usually doomed to failure, as Quinn had noticed that at least once a week, Berry was late to Chemistry, the class they shared next period. Her big puppy dog eyes always a little too bright, matching the equally over-bright smile on her face when she appeared on those days.

"Q! What the hell? Earth to Juno?"

Startled from her thoughts, she blinks at Santana who has just slammed her locker shut, jolting her back to her surroundings. She didn't realize she'd been staring, and now for some reason she felt like she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't. She instinctively goes into The Best Defense is a Good Offense Mode. She'd been living that motto her whole life and it kicked in naturally.

"Jesus S! You scared the hell out of me! What the hell?" Quinn throws back to the Cheerio.

Brittany and Santana were both looking at her quizzically, brows furrowed a little with concern.

"You were just staring down the hall at RuPaul. What up with that?"

Santana's narrowed eyes and glare were disconcerting as she continued.

"For all we knew you were about to stroke out right here, Q. Can't Preggos have like blood pressure issues or some shit like that? I don't need you dropping dead at my feet here…"

Santana punctuated her comment with a raised eyebrow. Brittany just bobbed her head, which caused her pony-tail to bob along in time.

Quinn rolled her eyes, annoyed at the Preggo jibe, but secretly feeling better for having hopefully deflected further scrutiny. She had enough scrutiny in her life.

"Give a pregnant teen a friggin' break, guys, I'm just tired. I know I make this look effortless and all...but having your ex-boyfriend's ex-best friend's baby is exhausting. I don't recommend it."

She spoke flippantly, but it was way too damn close to the truth. She was beyond exhausted. Sleeping on Puck's couch was not much better than Finn's house had been. The tension was less palpable than at Finn's house. But her already depleted psyche was drained further with every tired and disappointed glance she couldn't help but catch from Puck's mother. Elena Puckerman was a nice enough woman. And Quinn didn't blame her. The woman didn't sign up for a Christian, ex- Chastity Club President live-in-obligation for her son. Quinn didn't sense the judgment she knew her parents harbored, but she felt the underlying disappointment like the too-heavy blanket she used on the couch. Not Christian enough for her parents, and too Christian for Mrs. Puckerman.

"Whatever Q. Maybe you need more vitamins, or a V-8. Look into it. Seriously Q."

Having delivered her directive, Santana gave Quinn another penetrating look before turning on her heel to leave.

"Come on B, let's get to History. You like History."

Brittany agreed. "Mr. Croft has a wonderful quiet voice. Like a lullaby…"

The blone cheerleader smiled her sweet smile, waved and off the two went, shoulder to shoulder.

Quinn let a string of decidedly un-Christian curses fly under her breath when she realized her books were still in her locker when Santana had slammed the damn thing. Sighing, she reopened her locker and retrieved the Chem book and her notes.

Raucous laughter and cat calls approaching down the hall alerted Quinn that the jocks were on the move. She hoped that Berry had made it someplace safe for once, maybe already in the Chemistry class they shared 4th period. She turned her head to see if she could spot the annoying diminutive brunette. Not spotting her, she stayed at her locker, waiting for the jocks to pass, knowing there really was nothing she could do to stop an attack on Berry or any of the Gleeks now. Once, when she was still HBIC, she could have. But of course back then, she herself would have been the one ordering or participating in the dreaded slushie attacks.

Ah, the irony. She didn't really 'get' Berry, and her high intensity personality, and her heinous fashion sense, and her often manic cheerfulness. And she certainly didn't admire her as a person. But she supposed she did admire certain traits or qualities she possessed. And it was no longer her mission in life to torture the overly intense singer. These days, she felt some version of a familial bond with her - and all the Gleeks - now. And in the family 'code', it meant that it was okay for HER to do a little picking on Rachel Manhands RuPaul Stubbles Berry, like an annoying sibling. But woe betide anyone outside the family. Well, figuratively that was. Unfortunately, here in the harsh reality of high school, Quinn was painfully aware that currently she had little or no power to bring to bear against any tormenters of the Gleeks. She'd fallen way, way too far down the social hierarchy to do anyone any good.

All the 'power' that Quinn had these days was of the 'softer side of Sears' or After School Special variety. Seeing what was going on with Mercedes and the pressure to conform to Sue Sylvester idea of beauty or self-worth, she told Mercedes she is beautiful the way she is. What did it cost her? Nothing. And it had made Mercedes feel good. And it was a surprisingly nice feeling, that pulling someone up, rather than kicking them down for a change.

If someone had done that for her, maybe, just maybe a few wine coolers and superficial compliment from a guy who referred to himself as Puckasaurus wouldn't have gotten her into this predicament. She was no certainly no altruistic White Knight or..whatever, for anyone. But these days, if she could offer a simple compliment that cost her nothing to give, but would perhaps prevent someone from feeling so ugly that three kiwi wine coolers and a compliment from some asshole would had them giving it up just to feel pretty for a moment…well, she could do that.

She mentally sighed. Mr. Schue had given her confidence a much needed boost after the "Glist" drama unfolded, but she still had leagues to go to claw her way back to the top of the social heap. If that is where she wanted to go. These days, she just took it one day at a time.

Breaking herself from her musings yet again, she turned to head to class, wondering why her mind was ADHD these days.

Then she was abruptly wondering why her entire world had erupted in red.

Cold red. She could taste and smell the sickly sweet of fake cherry red. Then she could feel hot red rage pounding through her veins, right out to her fingertips. Even though her eyes were shut in reflex, her mind's eye filled with the red of McKinly High School letter jackets. Karofsky. Karofsky and his posse of idiots.

If the roar of a freight train sounded red, then she was hearing red too. Above the roar in her head, she definitely heard moronic guffaws coming out of Karofsky's pie-hole.

"Oh no…my bad Quinn, that was for a Gleek Freak …oh, that's riiight… you ARE a Gleek loser now…so I didn't waste my money not waiting for Berry."

Livid, and in a blood rage, Quinn still kept her cool demeanor as best as circumstances allowed.

"Yeah, Karofsky? Premature-slushie attack. I've heard you have a problem in the premature release department. Now, get the hell out of my way, jackass."

She pushed past that the cretin, hearing his cohorts sound off to him, taking the opportunity to laugh at him, giving her a small amount of consolation. They would turn and feed on anyone's humiliation, as long as it wasn't their own. She knew. She'd done it herself often enough.

Heading blindly towards the nearest bathroom, she was only barely holding back the tears of anger and humiliation. She shook her hair, spraying anyone near her with the sweet red concoction that was trickling down her chest and her scalp. It was a very clear "Back the fuck off" signal to everyone around.

Like anyone would even think of coming to her aid right now. She half-grinned a little maniacally to herself, sucking some slushie off her bottom lip, telling herself "Get a grip Fabray". Sure, she'd like to think Santana would have kicked Karofsky's ass in her defense just now, but Santana wasn't here. "You're on your own, kiddo," she admitted. "What else is new?"

She could hear still hear the laughter and the variations on "Snap! Bro! She called you out" coming from small crowd that remained. The last thing she heard before she ducked into the bathroom was the *thunk* of someone being shoved into the lockers, presumably Karofsky targeting one of his smaller hanger's on.

She let loose loud shuddering breaths at the sink as she tried to let the worst of it drip into the none-too-clean porcelain. Tears still were not an option or a luxury she would allow herself. She'd done this to herself. She probably deserved it. Just not from that neanderthal Karofsky. She turned on the faucet, and gripped the both edges of the basin, waiting for the water to warm up. She took another ragged breath, and cursed the tears that were forming as she stood there shaking with impotent rage. And self-pity. And loneliness, and betrayal. It all kept coming. She tried to shut down her mind and get control of herself, still taking deep rattling breaths.

She looked up at herself in the mirror, taking in the sight. Pathetic.

Then a movement in the mirror caught her eye, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

Rachel Berry (of course it's Berry, this is my life now, who else would it be) was in an open stall, with her patented 'worried' look on her face. Of course she was there. What would this perfect moment be without Rachel Fucking Berry to bear witness to her humiliation? Huzzah, but Life is grand these days. She didn't hate the girl, especially now with Finn not even in the picture for either of them. But she sure as hell didn't relish the thought of Berry, of all people, seeing her brought this low.

"Jesus Christ Berry! Stalk much? What the hell? You scared the shit out of me. How long have you been there?"

The brunette looked like a deer caught in headlights at first. She spoke slowly like she was talking to lunatic, and headed towards the bathroom entrance as she talked.

"Uh..uh, I was here already Quinn. I'm sorry…I can go."

She then stopped, her face thoughtful, and a maybe little bit hopeful. That made Quinn a little wary.

"Or…well, I have an extra shirt, and a towel in my locker. As you well know, I often have to deal with these unpleasant slushie attacks, and I believe in being prepared, and..I..I could go…get them..for…you..?"

Quinn sighed, wiping more red (and tears that had gone unnoticed she hoped) from her face.

"Yeah. Yeah, sure Berry, thanks. That would be great…thanks."

Rachel smiled at her, and backed out of the bathroom.

Quinn stood over the sink, still dripping the red stickiness in rivulets, but trying to keep it from running down her torso anymore than it had, using the practically useless brown paper towels to scrub it off where she could.

Rachel scurried out of the bathroom and returned quickly with the proffered items. She still looked extremely skittish.

Quinn was no longer about to cry, but she still didn't trust her voice quite yet, so she whispered.

"God Berry, how do you do this day after day?"

There was pause, and then a deep breath. Oh no, Berry was going to soliloquize.

"Well, I find the best method is to…stem the flow, and then start with the hair…"

Rachel trailed off, surprising Quinn with the brevity of her statement. She stayed still over the sink, while the other girl moved to grab wet some paper towels, and started to try to dab at Quinn's clothing. Quinn stopped her, sighing, with more exhaustion and less venom than usual in her voice.

"I got this Berry."

The smaller girl relinquished the damp towels, looking helpless.

"Perhaps, if you'd like I could at least help you rinse your hair now? It will be much more efficient if you let me help with that. Then you won't have to miss so much of our Chemistry class…"

Quinn squeezed her eyes shut, her hands gripping the sink tightly.

"I *said* I've got it, Berry. Like hell I'm going to class after this. Go on, you can make it without missing anything. I wouldn't want to ruin your attendance record."

Rachel let the sting in Quinn's voice roll over her without comment, and Quinn continued swiping at the remnants of slushie. Still, Berry didn't say anything, but she could hear the indecisive shuffling of her feet behind her. Then the sharp click of her shoes. The next thing she knew, there was a gentle pressure on the back of her head.

"Quinn, we're teammates. I can't abandon you now. What kind of teammate would I be then? Now. Bend over so I can get your hair rinsed more efficiently. I strongly suggest you close your eyes. The red stings less than the lime, but it still stings."

Humiliation, annoyance and gratitude were all clamoring inside her. But Quinn finally grunted in resignation and acknowledgement. Bending over she felt Rachel's other hand come to her forehead, gently guiding her to prevent adding injury to insult by bonking her head on sink.

While Rachel gently washed the stickiness from her hair, she at least kept blessedly silent for the most part.

This gave her time to enjoy a small pleasure, even if it was weird circumstances. Quinn *loved* having her hair washed. It was the best and most luxurious part of getting her hair cut as far as she was concerned. That part always made her feel so pampered, even if it was just for a few minutes. This, however, was not the same thing, nose down in a public restroom. However, even here the fingers delicately working through her hair and scalp felt delicious. The hairs on the back of her neck started to stand on end.

"Tilt left please Quinn. No. You're other left"

The spell broken, Quinn snapped her jaw shut on the acidic comment she might normally make, and tilted her head the other way, spluttering as the water tried to get in her nose.

"There, all done. Now you can stand up…hey, ack, slowly. Jeez, Quinn, you about broke my nose!"

And she had indeed almost taken the other girl out when she whipped her head up, flinging her clean but dripping hair up, sending an arc of spray up the mirror.

Chuckling she made a grudging half-apology, and smiled.

"Sorry, didn't mean to catch you there. I was just getting a little claustrophobic down there. I gotta say, you do good work, Berry."

Earnest brown eyes scanned her, looking for any sign of an insult she wasn't picking up on. They softened when she saw the ex-Cheerio's genuine grin. Quinn was rewarded with a genuine smile of her own, which turned into a bit of a saucy smirk.

"I am a woman of many talents Quinn Fabray. And…I suppose if you can now be genuine enough to tell Mercedes that she is beautiful just the way she is and mean it, then I will have to hope you are now being just as sincere in your flattering opinion that in the catastrophic event that I should somehow be rendered incapable of claiming my destiny as a Broadway star… I can always fall back on a career as a mute beauticians' assistant. Or a masseuse."

Quinn laughed, and snatched the towel Rachel was now gallantly proffering.

"Mute…?"

"Naturally. What other reason could there be for me missing out on my pre-ordained Broadway stardom?"

"Ah…I see. A tragic case of….tonsillitis gone horribly, horribly out of control. Flesh-eating bacteria from deep in the Congo?"

"But of course! I would still plot my come back of course, penning my life's story and setting it to music. It would then become an overnight Broadway sensation…The Beautician of Broadway...?"

They broke into giggles, Rachel a little shyly, and Quinn with appreciation. She didn't think the constantly smiling Rachel Berry had an ounce of dry wit in her until now. She found she liked it. Still chuckling, Quinn rolled her eyes at the smaller girl, and finished up toweling her hair dry. That accomplished as best she could manage, she then rooted around in her backpack for a pony tail holder. There frankly was not much else she could do with partially damp hair at this point. As she straightened her appearance, and her neat pony tail in the mirror, she furtively looked at Rachel's refection. She'd gone noticeably quiet, and there was a different look in her big expressive eyes now, thoughtful, but strained and tight.

"What?" she demanded to the mirror.

"Nothing. I mean…I just really like your hair down. I noticed you don't wear it up in a tight pony tail anymore…and…

Her big eyes got a little solemn as her voice trailed off.

"And…what…Berry? Spit it out already. Any other things you've noticed. Like say, I'm gaining weight like there is no tomorrow? Like I have no boyfriend. I have no home…"

Quinn stopped. She had really tried to keep the sharpness out of her voice, but old habits die hard. The other girl flinched before continuing.

"I…I just like you better with it down. You have very lovely hair Quinn, you must take excellent care of it. I know to get mine to shine I have to brush it…

Quinn cleared her throat and arched her eyebrow. Rachel took the hint and continued her point.

"Fine. Okay so besides the fact that it is very becoming on you, I also wonder if 'pony-tail Quinn' would have told Mercedes she is beautiful the way she is. Or allow me to help her…"

Rachel had colored a little bit with her statement, and her hands were fidgeting.

Quinn dropped her chin, breaking the eye contact.

She got it. The pony tail reminded Rachel of the Quinn who used to be the one throwing slushies at the Gleeks not so very long ago. Who tortured her at every opportunity. The one who never called her by her name. Who called her RuPaul, or Manhands, or Stubbles.

Her stomach tightened in an unfamiliar uncomfortable way. Maybe that was what remorse felt like. Regret she knew. Intimately. Her hand dropped to the swelling of her belly unconsciously. It seemed forever ago now. She looked to the mirror again, eyes serious. But remorse was something pretty new Quinn.

"Berry…Rachel…I'm not going to bite. I promise. Coach Sylvester did make us keep that as part of our uniform look, this is true."

She gestured at her hair.

"But this? This…today? This is just me being practical…to keep me from looking like a drowned rat."

The still fairly disheveled blond gestured at her torso and continued.

"A drowned rat wearing…Jesus, Berry. What this is this I'm wearing now? Oh…shit, Rachel, really?"

She looked down in horror at the kittens or cat things on her borrowed bright turquoise shirt. They looked suspiciously familiar.

"Are these the freakin' Aristocats, Berry? Oh for fuck's sake…."

Rachel looked a little hurt for a brief second. But then also defiant. She spryly shot back her retort.

"Hey, if you'd rather wear your wet, stained sticky shirt shirt, have at it. Animal motifs is how I roll."

Quinn rolled her eyes in mock horror, the tension broken, she was laughing again.

"How you roll? Really? If you say so Berry.."

"Indeed."

"Okay, okay, Berry I'll suffer through barely. Still. It must be said again. The Aristicats. Really?"

Rachel was not even remotely ashamed. She looked gleeful actually. Quinn ruefully shook her head before continuing.

"Seriously. Thanks for this Be..Rachel. Really. Apparently I need to start keeping spare, socially acceptable attire in my locker."

The singer pursed her lips together in tight smile, and nodded her head in acknowledgment of Quinn's thanks. Her eyes and her voice of compassionate when she spoke again.

"You're very welcome Quinn. I have offered my friendship and support in the past, and that offer certainly still stands. You have a lot on your plate now. We…I.. am here if you ever need anything…beyond a shampoo and change of clothes. Those are a given of course."

She was clearly biting back a small grin, and she looked like she had more to say, but she closed her mouth on anything else she had to say. Rachel was definitely getting better at reading social cues Quinn noted. The old Rachel would have been hopelessly over-eager and rambling on still. Nature, and usually, Rachel Berry abhor a vacuum.

Hm. Quinn pondered. The only change in her life was that irritating Jesse St. James. But he was a drama king, so she didn't think she could be learning the art of 'less can be more' from a fellow diva. Maybe her friendship with Finn was helping. Her ex-boyfriend was certainly adept at being socially acceptable for all that he was dumb as a box of rocks. At any rate, she was glad to be dealing with a slightly less ebullient version of Rachel Berry today.

The smaller girl spoke again after the silence had stretched a bit.

"So…speaking of rolling…lets?"

Quinn flinched at thought. It was inevitable of course. She couldn't stay here all day. But she felt a little sick at the thought of leaving the safety of the bathroom. She breathed out, barely a whisper.

"Do we have to?"

If Rachel was a little surprised that Quinn would rather stay in a bathroom with her, than go to Chem class, she tried not to show it.

"You don't want to miss ALL of Chemistry do you…? I mean you, Quinn, seem to do quite well in the class. But I, for one, am generally baffled. I don't think I can afford to miss it. I won't have the notes! And no one is going to give them to me I assure you."

Quinn eyed the girl, and if she was surprised that Rachel Berry would admit she didn't excel at something, she tried not to show it.

"Ah, but that's where you're in luck. I can help you with that. I'm a whiz at Chem, as you have so eloquently stated. Plus…I'll text Santana and make sure she takes good notes. She has it 6th period."

Rachel still looked really uncertain about the idea of missing any school. So Quinn pressed her case a little more.

"So… I know you're Jewish and all, and I don't know where you stand on the whole kosher thing…but there is a Triple bacon Baconator out there with my name on it. It's practically lunch time anyway. And don't look so shocked. Yes…I do know about kosher things, well sorta, in theory. I mean, I know I'd rather eat a Hebrew National hot dog than any other hot dog if that counts?. Anyway, we can find you something else if you like."

Rachel looked so terribly and sweetly torn, her head tilting to the side, clearly having an internal dialog. And a small part of the old Quinn emerged, a little buzz trilled with delicious excitement just under the surface of her skin. She had to admit she was getting a bit of the old thrill knowing that she could still be…persuasive. She didn't often get to practice her talent for skillful manipulation anymore. Her motives weren't really toxic now at least.

Quinn arched her eyebrow again, blatantly daring her. She pulled her car keys from her bag and dangled them…

Rachel's dark eyebrows knit together more when she thought. And she was clearly really thinking hard right now. Probably tallying Pros and Cons in a mental list in her head.

Quinn tried to sweeten the pot, taking only the slightest notice that she was actually trying to use her wiles to get Rachel Berry to have lunch with her. Odd…

"And…you can play whatever you want in the car…?"

Quinn was further disconcerted when she suddenly felt an uncomfortable, but not altogether unpleasant flip flop in her stomach as she watched her former nemesis' face light up and smile. Must be the thought of bacon. Or the baby. Or the baby wanting bacon…?

She piled it on thick now, covering it with a joke.

"Come on Berry, the baby is kicking and I think she wants bacon too."

Now, brown eyes rolled in feigned annoyance, and hazel eyes twinkled. She knew she had her, even though she earned a dramatic 'yeah right' eye roll from the diva.

"Playing the baby card Quinn? Nice…reeeal nice."

"Well, it's not like being a pregnant teen comes with a whole hell of a lot of perks other than 'the baby card' as you so eloquently put it."

She watched Rachel's face go slightly pale, and a guilty look come over her face

"I..I'm sorry..Qui.."

Quinn shrugged.

"Berry…Rachel, come on…I was teasing. I'm sorry. I know I'm a little glib sometimes. It's just how I deal…"

The other girl relaxed again, and took a deep breath.

"Okay Quinn. In the spirit of the … possible friendship that dare not speak it's name…I guess I am game. With Jesse out of town with his Vocal Adrenaline friends, I don't have any lunch plans anyway. Just please make certain that Santana will indeed take notes. Chemistry eludes me enough as it is even WITH notes."

Quinn grinned a little slyly, and a little shyly at the same time. Victory. And bacon.

She wasn't sure what to make of Rachel referring to a friendship between them. That was maybe a little more than she had envisioned when she suggested the jaunt for a bacon cheeseburger. Okay, maybe it wasn't that simple as all that. She couldn't escape the obvious fact that she wanted to escape, in general, if only for a little while. But.. Glee's lead singer was known for a distinct tendency to run away with herself and her ideas. Damn the torpedoes and full speed ahead and all that.

Her stomach growled loudly and dramatically.

Rachel must have been watching her for several seconds before she spoke up.

"Uh, Quinn. Are you quite alright? If you've changed your mind and decided to attend Chemistry after all, that would be fine with me. We could even time our entrances, and no one would be the wiser and.."

She tamped down the automatic insult that the old Quinn Fabray, HBIC would have rattled out.

"No, it's Cool. Alright Berry let's get the hell out of here. My car is in the south lot."

Then she surprised both herself and the other girl by grabbing her smaller hand in a conspiratorial gesture, and pulled her towards the bathroom exit.

Rachel Berry wasn't a substitute for the Cheerios, and holding the reins of power. But she was someone who wasn't treating her like a pariah. And there were precious few people in her life like that at the moment.

tbc…