Disclaimer: I do not own the television series Glee, and therefore I do not own any of the characters / major plotlines in this fic.

A/N: Cher beta'd for me this time...so a big 'ol thank you to her for helping me sort of out this crazy mess.

Also...I know it's been a little lacking in smut lately...but I promise the next installment will have something really good for you! Sorry for the wait, as always...classes are hell!

Rating: M

"Why are you blowing your RAPE WHISTLE?"

Rachel is still blowing the hell out of the silver whistle she's produced from inside her argyle sweater. She lays off of it to take a long breath.

"It seemed appropriate."

"….who the fuck is being raped?" He rubs an ear, "I mean besides my eardrums, because you just molested the shit out of those…"

"No one is…but…but…it's an extreme situation, it sort of that it was warranted…I panicked," the brunette begins to spew forth, "there has been a sexual crime after all…and seeing as I haven't exactly come upon the situation to use that whistle for anything else…because this is Lima and we have a lot of petty theft but are thankfully not afflicted with an onslaught of larger crime-,"

"Rachel-," Puck has to insert to get her to stop. He wishes he hasn't, because when she swallows and regains composure her next words are more cutting than they are annoying.

"You've betrayed Finn."

"I-I," He's struggling.

Struggling because it's hard to hear it said like that, and also because he's desperately looking for a way to take saying back. He's wracking his brain for something to say to make it okay.

"No, you're like Brutus…you're like Benedict Arnold. You're like Judas! Noah, you're Judas!" Rachel rambles, "He's going to be devastated when finds out."

"No he's not," Puck is about to say that he's not going to be devastated because she's going to keep her yap shut and he's not going to know, but in the time it takes her to shout out an ear piercing "Yes he is!" he's thought of the only thing he can do to save his ass.

"He's not…because he already knows."

Rachel's eyebrow darts up and her arms cross like a drill sergeant, "Ha! You expect me to believe that?"

"I don't care what you believe, Streisand" He lets his shoulders slack into a cool shrug, "It's the truth."

"There is no way that Finn knows that you've…known his girlfriend carnally."

"I don't know that the words you just said mean," He shrugs, "But if you mean he knows that I hooked up with her…he does…he watched."

"Wh-what?" She doesn't look as if she's believing it anymore, but this outlandish story begs for further questioning.

"We were all hanging out one night…got a little buzzed…got a little crazy…one thing led to another…" Puck is pulling out everything he can to keep his flippant air, "Shit happens."

"I…don't believe it," Rachel shakes her head, "A ménage trois?"

"English?" Puck grunts

"A…threesome?"

"Oh, then yeah…yeah that's what it was…I guess you'd call it that." He nods, "Only I didn't do shit with Finn at all…we didn't even touch…we just both touched her."

For once in her life Puck observes that Rachel seems to be speechless. Completely without words.

"I like this silence thing," He nods, "you should keep that up….especially about this…but also just in general."

"You were awesome," Finn grins exiting the auditorium with his girlfriend, "Mr. Schue should let us sing together more often."

Quinn cuts her eyebrow deeply at him, "I didn't hit a single one of those high notes, and you drowned me out in the harmonies," She reminded, "Mr. Schuester only clapped to be nice….he looked like his little chemistry experiment just blew-up in front of him."

"You…looked awesome?" He tries. That's one thing about Finn Hudson. He may fail miserably, but he always earnestly tries to make things 'awesome' all the time. "Plus you smell awesome, and make me feel awesome."

She lets out a soft laugh. He leans in to kiss her, bringing a hand up to her face to cup it. She returns the kiss softly for a moment, then snaps back.

"Wait - we can't do this-,"

"Why?" Finn's face contorts in confusion.

"Most likely because this is a school hallway and not the red-light distract of Amsterdam," They both turn to see a bright green track suit worn by Coach Sylvester - which makes her next joke very ironic, "now stop trying to tongue-score with my head cheerio and go find your chief slug. He's been bellowing for the jolly green giant for half an hour."

Finn looks unsure of what she means, but Quinn quickly explains, "Coach Tanaka is looking for you…you'd better go." He nods quickly pulling his backpack tighter on his shoulder, and ducking in once more for the kiss, but catches her cheek instead because she turns her head.

As he hustles down the hallway, Sue side glances at Quinn and gives her an almost approving look that she generally spares to no one. "That's what makes you a young Sue Sylvester, Fabray," she hands out an even rarer actual compliment, "You've got class."

"Thanks, Coach," Quinn nods, unsure of what to say, as she dodges the sort of heated glare Santana shoots who for being able to garner this kind of praise from their coach. Sue is the only person Santana has ever sucked up to in her entire life and it still seems she gets nowhere with the woman, despite her many schemes. She begrudges any compliment the instructor lays on another.

"You know…aside from the fact that he is somewhat of an un-evolved neanderthal and that I sometimes earnestly mistake him for one of the physical education department's tackling dummies," Sue continues, "I'd say I'm very proud of the relationship you're nursing with Harrison."

"Hudson," Quinn corrects.

"Doesn't matter" Her superior shrugs, "What does matter is that he's the quarterback of the football team, the son of a war hero, and most importantly: a malleable mama's boy with a more than decent reputation…meaning you can sink your manicured little claws in him and work that drone like a puppet with strings."

Quinn's bottom lip trembles a little, "I…would never do that." She lies, because she knows she has treated Finn just as such so many times, "I see Finn as way more than that."

"Well…even if you don't suckle up every last bit of potential from this golden teat of opportunity, at least you have one thing to rest on," Sue finishes, "And that's the image you get from it. It's your stable relationship that sets you apart from others on the squad with more…," She moves her eyes toward Santana at her elbow "questionable panache…it's what makes you elite - it's what makes you shine."

"I don't shine on my own?"

"Oh Q, I appreciate your virtue…but don't be naïve," Sue's lip curls a little, "No one shines with out a spotlight."

Puck's got his eyes closed, seat reclined, and his radio playing some Pantera song he's not even really listening to, not noticing that his hand is awkwardly tapping out a nervous rhythm on his leg. He's not sure if he's more nervous about the fact that Berry may find her voice again and sing like a canary to everyone in the school, or about the fact Quinn wanted to "talk" to him after school.

It's the talk. It's definitely the talk.

Talking is always bad. It's shit. It never means anything good. He was young when it happened but he was pretty sure that there was some sort of formal "talk" that took place before his dad skipped on them to "find" himself on the road.

Talking usually meant someone was walking.

He sort of starts when he hears a soft knuckle wrap on glass, and opens his eyes to see Quinn clutching her binder with her duffel bag over her shoulder. He reaches over instantly, and unlatches the door. She opens her lips to ask for a ride, but he pats the bench of the truck without her even speaking. She slides in, closing the door behind her.

"You can take me home right?" She asks, voice sort of absent, "Finn's doing the quarterback meeting with Tanaka again…I don't feel like staying for extra sprints."

"Sure thing, blondie." He says coolly, trying a smirk, but knowing it's far more strained than it usually is. His stomach really feels like hell. He doesn't want her to put him out like the end of used up cigarette right here in his own truck. His truck is his domain.

She initiates no such talk though, and he cranks it up and pulls out of the school parking lot. He keeps waiting for it. Looking out of the corner of his eye, waiting for her plumps lips to start moving. Waiting for the end to begin.

It doesn't though, and they're almost halfway to her neighborhood when he's just so crazy waiting for the bullet that he just dives right into a suicide mission by saying, "You wanted to talk…let's talk now."

There's a long pause of silence. The only thing he hears is her breathing. Or maybe that's him breathing, even though it really doesn't feel like he's doing that anymore at this point.

"I…kind of decided maybe I don't need to," Quinn finally says in little above a whisper. She's no longer sure about breaking up with Finn, telling Puck that she wants to be with just him. Now that it's been made abundantly clear to her that she'd not just be shattering Finn's heart, but also her reputation in the process.

At sixteen this decision between boys is starting to feel like a life altering one. She's smart enough to know how silly that sounds, but young enough to still find it logical.

Also, maybe a little part of her wants to prove Coach Sylvester wrong. To prove that Finn is more than just a puppet and she his cold hearted puppeteer. Because…that's the truth, right? It's all so confusing, and it only gets more haywire when Puck reaches out a hand to massage her thigh a little as he drives.

His mind is now a very different place than hers. It's drained of the fear and worry that had plagued it over her ending things. "Really?" He asks as he squeezes, just to be sure he didn't hear wrong.

"Yeah…I…I was jumping the gun on something a little," Quinn says cryptically, looking out the window at the trees, feeling his touch seep into skin creating a feeling warm even than the sun through the glass on her shoulder.

Puck is positive that the bullet from his gun she was talking about had been intended to hit a bulls eye on his chest. Now she's holstering it though, and he has more time. He feels himself take what felt like the first breath all day.

He moves his hand up to the back of her neck, kneading either side with his thumb and forefinger gently. Her eyes close as he works his fingers into her skin, and she feels his lips lit on her jaw, as he briefly looks away from the road to kiss her there.

"Pull over, Puck," Quinn breathes out.

And just like every time, she forgets everything else as he pulls his truck to the side of the little backwoods road and she hastily rips at her seatbelt. Everything except how good his lips feel on her skin, and how she wants them all over her, washing away all of Sue's comments and her guilt.

Puck is just grateful this turn of events in his day, and scoops her greedily into his lap, moving her to straddle him with her back against his steering wheel. She doesn't even ask him to adjust it. She'll just deal with it. She'll take the slight pain against he spine as a sort penance for her sins.

She's too busy with the buckle of his jeans, ripping it open and tearing the zipper down to even really notice it anyway. At the same time, his hands are darting up the all too familiar path shaded by the pleats of her skirt. She lets out a little whimper of anticipation when his fingers curl around the hem of her panties and tug them down with little grace.

There are no words between them. There'sjust that same hunger that's always there.

Quinn breathes out in a pressured squeal of sorts as he presses against her sensitive spot roughly with his thumb, and her little hand delves into his boxers to draw him out, eager for more. He slips into her just as their lips finally meet again, desperately.

"I want this," she forces out, sliding her tongue around his, "I really, really do."

"You're getting it, baby," he grunts in her ear, as he bucks into her. She rides him with a gratuitous amount of appreciative moans, and little bites to his sweat laced neck.

The bonds of her relationship with Finn, and the tidal wave of her orgasm keep her from explaining to Puck that he didn't exactly get her intended message.

"You're not supposed to be in the girl's room," Rachel says more sharply than she usually might at the sight of Kurt arranging the braid he's just finished in Mercedes hair after school.

"And you're not supposed to speak to me in the tone of voice one would use to address either a pre-pubescent child with an attention problem or a rowdy little chihuahua whose just piddled on the rug," Kurt retorts without looking away from his handy work, "Let's just live in a fun world though - one where we let things go."

"Chill girl," Mercedes chimes in, "Kurt's not in here for some kind of panty raid…my 'do was just really struggling today and I'm trying to get myself ready to throw some game at that new cutie in my biology class…he hangs at the arcade after school."

"He is atrocious," Kurt complains, primping her braid, "The only thing you should throw at him are rocks."

Before the subject can move on to that of an old fashioned stoning, Rachel is speaking again.

"I'm very sorry…I didn't mean to come off so authoritative, despite the fact you are severely bruising a school rule," Kurt rolls his eyes, "I'm just…I'm a little lost in thought right now."

"Hopefully you left bread crumbs…"

"Have you heard of a threesome?" Rachel asks out of the blue.

"I'm sixteen…so, I could probably write a book about them," Kurt says dully.

"My brother ordered Skinamax before he left for college…my parents don't know." Mercedes giggles, "So, yes."

"Are you aware that some of our peers are indulging in these dangerous sex games?"

"It's just getting crafty with multiple hoohas and doodads…" Kurt laughs, "It involves little knife or gun play that I'm aware of…although I did see this one smut fiction online where-,"

"I just find it sort of repugnant." Rachel clambers on, "I mean…the whole celibacy club was a joke of course as teens are very sexual by nature and shouldn't be repressed…but there's just got to be a line…a statuette of decency…a strand of moral fiber in the youth of today."

"Yeah well…you know what a lot of fiber gets you" Kurt clucked, "Loose bowels…so in simple terms, a bunch of sh-,"

"I think any boy who engages in such behavior is a scoundrel and any girl who does so is a scarlet woman."

"Scarlet woman?" Mercedes asks.

"Skank," Kurt substitutes

"Oh, hell no, you are not calling my baby girl Quinn a skank!" The diva bellows without realizing. Within seconds, two hands are clapped over her mouth. One is her own, and the other is Kurt's.

"I can't believe this Sadie," He gasps.

"I didn't meant to...it just came out…" She frets, chewing at her lip.

"No, I mean, I honestly thought it was going to be me who accidentally blurted it to someone," Kurt says, holding his stomach, "I'm actually a bit relieved you took that shameful burden of being the gossiping snitch off of me…"

Mercedes glares at him for a moment, before they turn a united glare on Rachel.

"You….heard…nothing." The words come out in unison.

"You guys know about Quinn, Finn and Puck's romp too?" Rachel chimes.

"Wait…" Mercedes questions, "you already knew?"

'Is there a videotape? I knew there was a videotape." Kurt chatters, before Mercedes elbows him and he regains his seriousness, "So….which brute opened up Pandora's box and threw her panties all over the room?"

"Which of them fools told you?" Mercedes clarifies, "Finn or Puck?"

Rachel swallows.

"I think that is of little to no consequence at this point." She finally puffs, "I think the only thing that matters at this point is that we help them all salvage the images that obviously mean so much to them and make sure this travesty never hits the front page of the school paper or anything…"

"What you call a travesty, a lot of people would pay to see…" Kurt offers "I mean, two football players and the head cheerleader…it has bestselling porno written all over it…"

"Be serious Kurt," Mercedes says quietly, "We've got to be more careful with this secret…all of us," She looks sharply toward Kurt, knowing he shared the knowledge that there was even more to the story. She gazed back at Rachel "Could you imagine if Jacob Israel got his hands on this?"

"He'd ruin them," Kurt said solemnly, moving the sequined comb he'd been holding awkwardly in his hand, "Especially her."

Rachel nodded, pulling her arms around her waist and tugging at her sweater, "Maybe we should make some sort of pact….an unbreakable vow?"

"Someone has been rereading Harry Potter-"

"That's a good idea Rach," Mercedes nods, talking over Kurt, who shrugs.

"Are we just gonna shake on it…'cause I've got a Sound of Music pin on my canvas bag…we can gauge our fingers…mix our blood and plasma in a bond of trust and brotherhood-,"

"Let's do pinkies," Rachel says seriously over Kurt's sarcastic rambling. She offers hers to Mercedes, who twists her own around it.

Kurt sighs, "See where does my pinky even go? You can't do a three-way pinky swear…it's just not natural…" He cuts himself off, "Hell, I guess it's perfect for the situation then." He crams his little finger over the top of the two girls.

"We solemnly swear that we will tell no one…and never speak of this again," Rachel says properly.

"And that we'll look fabulous while doing it," Kurt adds.

"And that we won't even mention it to God," Mercedes ends.

As the exited the bathroom, they didn't think about one little detail.

God hears everything….and so does Satan.

Especially when she's been hold up in the handicap stall…hiding out from extra sprints and filing her nails.