Author's Note: I've done most all of the other OT4 pairings so I figured it was time to give Quinn/Brittany a chance. Well...I figured it month or so ago when I wrote it, anyways. I really need to just clean out my queue. I've got stuff from April in there, no joke.

This was it. Today was the day. There was no turning back. It was the day that literally everything about Quinn Fabray's life was going to change. Again. She'd gone back to her status as Queen of McKinley but, while she did love it, there was something she had to do. An itch she had to scratch. An annoying, short, brunette, loud itch.

That's how she found herself standing across the choir room from Rachel Berry with the thickest, most tension filled silence she'd ever been in. Rachel's mouth was opening and closing, her eyes wide with disbelief, as she visibly tried to figure out exactly how to respond to the bomb that had been dropped upon her.

"You…have a crush on me?" Rachel finally managed to gasp.

Quinn shrugged. "Yeah."

"Oh. Well…I…thank you for informing me."

Wait, what? That's not how the encounter was meant to go. No. Quinn knew there was supposed to be a declaration of love from Rachel and a dramatic scene where the brunette leaped into her arms and kissed her. She was supposed to break up with Finn immediately and come to Quinn and they would profess their love to the world with some cheesy song and dance routine in front of glee club. "Thank you" was not part of it.

"That's it? I tell you I like you and all you do is thank me?"

"Quinn, I can't say as though I reciprocate the way you feel toward me. While I can appreciate the female form in an aesthetic way, I am very much straight. As a matter of fact, I came out to my dads when I turned fifteen - Daddy cried and told me I had done nothing wrong and he accepted me for who I was - but the point is that I'm just…not interested."

Definitely not how this was supposed to go. Quinn, stunned, could only nod and walk out of the choir room before the tears threatened to spill over. Once the choir room door slammed shut behind her she took off in a full sprint to get to a bathroom but was stopped short when she collided with another body and hit the cold, tile floor. Was it even worth it to get up? She'd just been shot down by Rachel Berry. No, it wasn't worth it.

"Quinn, are you dead?"

Quinn cracked open an eye to see Brittany sitting next to her head and hovering over her face. She took note of the girl's appearance quickly: red eyes, smeared makeup.

"Oh, good, you're not."

"Are you okay, Britt?"

Brittany shrugged. "You?"

Quinn shook her head.

"Do you wanna go bowling?"

It was an odd and random request, sure, but it was Brittany. And Quinn could use the distraction.

Brittany picked out a lime green ball, Quinn a pale blue. The manager looked at them funny when Brittany asked for the gutter guards to be put up but a scowl from Quinn got him back to work. No one messed with Brittany. Santana was always - wait. Where the hell was Santana?

"You're first," Brittany said, nudging Quinn.

Quinn just nodded. She threw the ball down the lane; it bounced off the gutter guards a few times before knocking down three pins. The second ball knocked down four more.

Brittany threw a perfect strike.

"Why did you have them put up the guards?"

"Because you suck at bowling."

"Thanks, B."

"No problem."

It was five more frames (and five more strikes for Brittany) before they spoke again. Quinn's ball got jammed and they had to wait for maintenance to go pry it out.

"Where's Santana?"

She hadn't intended to be so blunt about it but vagueness didn't really work with Brittany. The other blonde's head dropped to look at her lap and Quinn regretted asking in the first place.

"She doesn't love me."

Quinn furrowed her eyebrows. Brittany and Santana had been glued to each other (literally, that's how they met: Brittany glued herself to Santana during art class in kindergarten) for the majority of their lives. They'd been "not dating" since freshman year.

"Is that why you're…I mean, you were crying earlier. Is that why?"

"Yeah. Why were you crying?"

"I wasn't."

"Oh. Were you high?"

"No!"

"Do you want to get high?"

Hell, she might as well. Life couldn't really get much more humiliating.

XXXXXXXXXX

"So you like…love Rachel?"

Quinn nodded from her perch on Brittany's couch and stared at the TV. Food Network probably wasn't the best thing to watch at the time because she honestly felt like getting up and licking the TV screen when Giada started tossing a big bowl of pasta.

"Since when?"

Again, not how Quinn thought this conversation would go. Wasn't Brittany supposed to be some highly insightful person that read people like a book and knew everything about everyone without even asking? Isn't that how stereotypical 'dumb blondes' were supposed to be? Everything about life was becoming too complicated. Quinn took another hit from the passed joint and tried to relax. Just a little.

"I don't know, B."

"She's kinda hot. Santana's hot. You're hot, too. You wanna do it?"

Quinn blinked. "Huh?"

"Do you want to have sex?"

The entire world was throwing her curveballs at every single turn today. Here Quinn was, sitting half stoned on her best friend's couch after having gone bowling (and losing horribly)…and being offered sex by said best friend. This had to have been some joke by the universe; that was the only way any of the events of the day could've been explained. There was the possibility that she was dreaming. It could all be some sick, twisted dream and she would wake up in the morning and go to school and things would go the way they were supposed to go. And since it was a dream there was really no harm in…

"Okay," Quinn said with a nod.

In a flash, Quinn found herself on her back with Brittany's lips attached to her neck and the taller blonde's hands roaming over her Cheerios' top. Brittany's lips worked their way up her neck, to her jaw and finally, with a devilish grin, Brittany leaned down to kiss her. Brittany's lips were soft, Quinn noticed right away, and moved with purpose but not robotically. Quinn tugged Brittany's ponytail out of her hair and pulled her in closer. Tongues met in a duel and Quinn was taken aback by Brittany's softness.

"You're a really good kisser," Brittany murmured when their tongues untangled. "Like, really good."

"You, too."

Brittany grinned like a puppy that had just been given a treat and dove back in. Before Quinn could register what was happening there was a hand pushing up her skirt and down her spankies and oh holy shit Brittany was sneaky. And when did she get that wet? Brittany's fingers moved with ease inside of her, one at first and then two. Quinn gave up all restraint and spread her legs and begged for her friend to go deeper. God, it was magical. She wasn't sure if it was the pot or just that Brittany was that good but there were fireworks in front of her eyes and stars and explosions and a symphony as she went over the edge.

"Wow."

"You taste like a rainbow. Are you made of Skittles?"

Quinn opened her eyes to see Brittany slowly sucking each of her fingers clean and smiling happily. It was enough to make her moan and Quinn reached up to press her lips to Brittany's and get a faint taste of herself. It made her want to taste Brittany even more. Her hands had outrun her brain, though, and Quinn's fingers hit warm, wet heat. Brittany dropped her head onto Quinn's shoulder and moaned. Honestly, Quinn had no idea what she was doing. She let her instincts take control because what the hell else was there to do other than leave Brittany hanging like that? She pushed two fingers in when she got to the blonde's entrance and Brittany did the rest.

If this was what sex was supposed to be like then Quinn wondered why the hell she didn't do it every single day. It was awesome to watch Brittany move her hips and listen to her muffled cry as she tightened around Quinn's fingers and dropped on top of her. And damn Brittany tasted amazing when Quinn licked her fingers clean.

When Quinn awoke a few hours later the high had worn off (damn it) and she started feeling more real and less like her entire day could've been a dream. It was horrifying and satisfying all at once. Horrifying in that she had, in fact, been shot down by Rachel Berry and satisfying in that…well, she had mind-blowing sex with Brittany. Speaking of said blonde, she was moving to get off of Quinn with a guilt-ridden look and her eyes cast downward.

"I'm sorry," Brittany mumbled. "You can leave if you want to. Santana doesn't like to cuddle…so if you don't want to, that's okay."

Quinn made a mental note to kill Santana later if it so happened that she ever made Brittany look like that. Wasn't Santana supposed to be her great protector or something? Kicking ass and taking names of anyone that ever made Brittany upset? Why was the world so messed up today?

"Come here," Quinn whispered, beckoning her friend (Lover? Girlfriend? What?).

Brittany squealed happily and settled herself back on top of Quinn, nuzzling her nose into Quinn's neck. Quinn wrapped her arms securely around Brittany's back and held onto her.

It shouldn't have shocked Quinn as much as it did to see that Santana and Brittany made up so easily. They were skipping down the hallway, pinkies linked, as Quinn watched from around a corner. Brittany was happy and that was what mattered, right? Right?

It shocked her even more when Brittany invited her over that afternoon. And they had sex. And cuddled. It became routine. Not always the sex, but mostly the cuddling. It became so routine that Quinn couldn't help but rage with jealousy when Brittany would hug Santana even though Quinn knew that Brittany was the one wrapped in her arms at the end of the day.

"What are we?" Quinn asked on one such evening, a little over a month after she'd collided with Brittany in the hallway.

"Quinn and Brittany."

"No, I mean…what are we doing?"

"Cuddling."

"Are we dating?"

Brittany rose up from her position of head on Quinn's chest and legs tangled together. She furrowed her eyebrows and chewed on her lower lip and Quinn was sure the girl was probably thinking harder than she ever had in her life.

"Sex isn't dating."

"It can be."

"Will you sing a duet with me?"

Quinn arched her (perfectly sculpted) eyebrow and nodded. Sure, why not? It was a simple request. Odd, but simple.

"Really? Even if it's about making lady babies?"

"Uh…sure."

"Okay, we're dating."

"What's that have to do with a duet, B?"

"It means you like me."

"Of course I like you."

"But you like me for more than sex."

"Yeah."

Brittany only smiled and settled her head back on Quinn's chest and the blonde couldn't help but smile, too. For the first time in a few weeks she thought back to the day she collided with Brittany and decided that maybe that's how she hadn't anticipated the day to go but it did lead to some pretty damn awesome stuff. She would go to school the next day with Brittany's hand in hers and get a soft smile from Rachel and a scowl from Santana and know that her life was right on track.