A/N: I suppose this is what you call my first foray into the Faberry fandom, told through the eyes of the one and only Mike Chang. This might come to a surprise to everyone who has me on author alert, considering they're probably expecting something Dan/Serena, but take a read, if you like it, stay a while, if you don't, that's okay too. Please review! :)

walk with me to the edge of all we've ever known

Sometimes, Mike Chang is the perfect man. At least, in glee club. He doesn't sleep around, complain or (purposely) gets into love triangles that make Mr. Schuester consider changing the name of glee club to drama club. He's loyal to Tina and his heritage. Mike Chang is a nice guy. Always has been, probably always will be. And it's his nice guy attitude that lands him Quinn Fabray as a best friend.

Their tentative friendship starts up when Mr. Schue asks him to go check on Rachel and Quinn in the auditorium. He walks down the empty hallways, idly brainstorming new routines for regionals. Glee's been really good for him – a lot better than football, actually. He gets to come up with things to showcase what he's best at and football just doesn't offer that.

He reaches the auditorium and slowly opens a door, just in case Rachel and Quinn are having one of their battles. It's strangely quiet so he walks in quickly, surprised to see that there is in fact someone there. Quinn's sitting at the piano, shoulders shaking with silent sobs and his heart twists; he's never seen her cry like this before, in all the years they've known each other. "Quinn?"

She looks up at him, startled. She wipes her tears hastily, as if making them disappear would change how he had found her. "What do you want?" She tries to use her Head Cheerio voice, but it cracks and tears are tumbling down again.

He leaps up on stage and sits next to her. He starts playing the piano, if only to calm her down. He doesn't play much anymore, (he's spending too much time on xbox and dancing) so he's surprised when he finds himself playing a melody he learned two years ago. He plays until her sobs subside, his fingers dancing lightly over the keys.

"That was really pretty," she murmurs, trying to place a name to the melody. "What was that?"

"You wouldn't know it, Q. It's a Chinese song." He nudges her lightly, making her look up from the keys in curiosity. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she says, meeting his eyes. "I will be." She smiles softly, a smile of heartbreak and hurt. "I should go. I'll see you around, MC."

He watches her leave, and wonders if he should've gone after her.

The next time they talk is right after they've won regionals. They're all on the bus home and Tina's asleep on his shoulder. Mike thinks the world of Tina. She makes him happy and sometimes when they're alone, he can't help but feel like the world's fallen in place for him. He looks around the rest of the bus, noticing that most of the glee club is asleep, the adrenaline from winning gone from their bloodstreams.

"MC!" Quinn pops up from the seat in front of him, one white earphone in, the other dangling in front of her. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

She shifts nervously, one hand coming up to play with the hanging earphone. "That song, that Rach- Berry sang. What do you think it was about?"

His mind flickers back to the song, how Rachel had put everything into it, how she had looked over to the side at Finn in the middle. "That there's something she keeps throwing all this effort into and no matter how many times she tries, she still can't get it right."

"Do you think it was about Finn?" The blonde blusters, unable to keep it bottled within her.

"I don't know. I guess." He watches as her face twists unpleasantly and realization dawns upon him. It surprises him just how fast he sees past her facade. "Q, do you want it to be about you?"

She flushes a bright red and stammers, "Does it look like I want the song to be about me?"

He raises an eyebrow at her and smiles. "You should come over and play xbox sometime. It'll be like old times. We can talk about your love for Rach-"

"Don't even finish that sentence, Chang, or limited edition Pokemon cards will go missing," she hisses, cutting him off, but she's unable to wipe the smile that formed when he mentioned his xbox. She still remembers the gaming sessions they used to have in elementary school, when popularity and dating didn't matter.

"Tomorrow. 3 o'clock." He shoots back, keeping his voice low for Tina's benefit. "You should go sit by that girl you don't like. Maybe you can help her get it right."

She shoots him a glare and he swears he can feel her hazel eyes pierce through him, but he keeps his smile. He knows her bark is worse than her bite, lest she has a slushie in her hand. She turns away from him, settles back in her seat and within a few seconds, he can hear the music blaring from her earphones. Same old Quinn.

"For the love of all things holy, Chang, do you not understand we're on a TEAM? You led that NOOB right to me! You're so lucky I don't have an xbox so I can't DESTROY YOUR DEATH/KILL RATIO!" Quinn yells, slamming her controller into the couch as she watched the killcam.

"You're worse than Finn," the Asian boy mutters, muting his headset so he didn't have to hear the other people on his team laughing at them.

"Excuse me?"

Mike winces, and quickly corrects himself. "You're better than Finn in the game, just worse when you lose." At her pointed glare, he hastens to change his intention again. "Because you just shouldn't lose. Since you're so good?"

She rolls her eyes at him, and shoves him none too lightly. They finish the game and Quinn sets the controller aside, leaning back against the couch cushions and closing her eyes. "How do you do it, MC?"

"Well, Tina's always at that tutoring and dim sum place so I have a lot of time to play xbox and-"

"Not what I meant." She sighs and brings one hand to her face, rubbing her temples. "How do you see things so easily? And always do the right thing? Doesn't the pressure ever get to you?"

He takes a drink from his water bottle and sets it down, his brow wrinkled thoughtfully. "You've always had something to prove, you know? You had to prove to your parents that you were a good Christian, you had to prove to your sister that you're just as good as she is, and I think the difference between you and me is that, besides my grades and stuff like that, everything I do is to prove something to myself." He picks up his controller and starts changing the teams and weapons absentmindedly. "I mean, I joined glee club because I knew I could dance, but I never really showed that to myself. I never put myself out there before. And you joined glee to prove to Finn that you were just as good as Rachel. It's different."

She meets his gaze and sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "But that doesn't explain the Rachel thing.."

"You'll figure it out," he assures her, handing her the controller as he starts another game. "Until then, you've got me and a bunch of Nazi zombies."

She breaks up with Finn the next day, leaving him angry and confused in the hallways of McKinley as she heads to Glee without him. She hears a fist collide with a locker behind her and walks faster, knowing it wasn't long until he started chasing after her.

Mike's waiting for her outside of the choir room, leaning casually against the door. "Hey Q," he starts, before seeing her paler than usual face and shaken composure. "What's wrong?"

She shakes her head and charges into the choir room, Mike on her heels. He sits down next to Tina and watches with curiosity as the blonde slides into the seat next to Rachel. His eyes drift away when Rachel cracks a joke and Quinn laughs, really laughs, not just the fake laughs she reserves for school.

Finn storms in a few moments later and hurls himself into a seat next to Puck, crossing his arms. Rachel barely notices and Quinn's smile grows just a little bit bigger.

Everyone sits in silence after Finn breaks Rachel's nose. Mike's sitting on a black box in the auditorium, about to ask why Tina's eyes are blue when he hears yelling from backstage. He kisses her forehead, whispers how he'll be right back and slips behind the middle blacks.

"Quinn, you can't tell me what to do anymore, okay? I want to be there for Rachel. Mr. Schue said I could go!" Finn whines and Mike wonders how he was ever chosen to be a leader.

"And I'm telling you to stay behind," the blonde girl hisses and he watches Finn's shadow shrink back. "You broke her nose. She's not going to want to see you. Now either you stay, or I get Santana in here and make you stay."

"You don't even like Rachel, why are you doing this to me?"

"Shut up, Finn!"

"Stop telling me what to do! Dammit, Quinn!" Now seems as good as a time as any, so Mike walks through the blacks, stands firmly between Finn and Quinn. "Mike, you're not involved in this," Finn immediately says, holding his hands up defensively.

"If you're yelling at Quinn behind the curtains, then I am involved in this."

"But, dude," Finn stammers, grasping for words. "You're dating Tina!"

"Stop assuming the worst of people, Finn! I have nothing going on with Mike!" Quinn all but yells, and Mike has to throw back an arm to keep her from lunging at Finn.

"Guys, what's going on?" Mr. Schuester emerges, with an ice pack carrying Rachel. "What's with all this yelling?"

"Rachel! Let me take you to the doctor." Finn jumps forward, startling the brunette. "I'm so sorry, I feel really bad."

"Don't make me castrate you, Hudson!"

"Quinn!"

"You're just playing a big joke on her, aren't you Quinn? I know you hate Rachel, so why would you want to be friends with her?"

"Finn!" Mr. Schue sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Why don't you both take her?"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

Mike sighs, raising an eyebrow at Quinn. She looks so protective that he swears Finn could possibly end up dead before the sun sets.

It's nine o'clock at night and Mike hasn't heard from either Finn or Quinn. It didn't bother him earlier in the day when he finally got to have some alone time with Tina without a new episode of Quinn's debacle with Rachel popping in, but now, he's concerned. He lies back on his bed, grabs his xbox controller, ready to push away the thought when his phone rings.

"MC," he says into the phone, sitting up.

"Hey Mike."

"Q," he greets, already reaching for his car keys. "What's up?"

"Are you busy? With Tina?" She's hesitating, Finn's words must have gotten to her. "Because if you are, then I can go and we can talk tomorrow or something."

"Word vomit, Q." He laughs and tugs on his right shoe, looking around for his left. "I'll pick you up in a few." He shuts his phone, shoving it into his pockets. He shuffles into the living room, smiling sheepishly at his parents who trust him enough to know that these late night excursions are to help Quinn out with her problems and not to rendezvous with Tina. Although he wouldn't mind the latter, to be honest.

"Going out, Michael?" His father asks, looking up from the television.

"Is it okay?"

"Quinn's got another dilemma?" His mother asks kindly, a sparkle in her eye. Mike has this hunch that if he wasn't dating Tina, his mother would probably push him in the blonde's direction. "Well go on, don't keep her waiting. Put a jacket on before you go outside, I don't care if you say its spring, it's still cold."

"Yes, ma." He grabs his coat from the rack, shrugging it on. He presses a kiss to his mother's cheek before walking out the door, keys jangling in his hand. He hears her say something about silly blonde American girls before closing the door, a smile playing on his lips. Dating Quinn was never and won't ever be an option. He loves her like the sister he's never had, but there's just something about the way she acts that frightens him a little(not that he'd ever tell her that).

In another world, they could fit. Maybe. He's easygoing and no matter what she says, she's a little high maintenance. But in this world, the real world, Mike's in love with Tina and Quinn, well, she's struggling with a little bit of everything, especially realizing just how deep her feelings for Rachel are.

He can't deny that Quinn means the world to him though. He likes that he knew the girl she used to be, before they all started to grow up and everything became complicated. He knows that he's the only person that knows just about everything about her; there are things that even he doesn't understand, things that she never bothered explaining to him as their friendship was deteriorating.

To be entirely honest, he knew their friendship hadn't eroded due to her struggles of being on top of the metaphorical and literal pyramid, but instead it had been Russell Fabray. He remembers the day like it was yesterday, the memories swirling around in his mind from time to time. He still hears Russell's menacing voice every time he drives past the Fabray mansion, despite the man being long gone. He hears it now, parked in front of Fabray mansion, despite the fact that Russell is no longer allowed to step foot in the building.

"Quinn," Russell popped his head into her room, seeing the two eleven year olds sitting there, eyes glued to the television. "Shouldn't you be getting ready to go running? You need to look good for the event Friday night. We need that raise, remember?"

"I think she looks fine, Mr. Fabray." Mike said quietly, meeting Russell's stare. "Besides, my dad said that girls don't look good too skinny. Makes them less pretty."

Russell's lip curled into a sneer. "Right, well maybe in your country, that's okay. But not here."

"Daddy!"

Mike recoiled like he had been slapped. "It's fine, Quinn. Don't worry about it."

"Don't tell my daughter what to do," Russell snapped, advancing toward the two. "Damn foreigners think they can just come in and use my tax money. Fucking aliens."

"I'm an American!" Mike protested, rising up from the bed, shaking off Quinn's grasp on his arm. Russell Fabray outweighed him by at least ninety pounds and was taller by at least six inches, but there was no way Mike was going to let him get by with insulting, not only him, but his parents who had sacrificed everything to ensure a life in the United States. "And my parents are, too. You can't talk about my family that way."

Russell laughed, reaching out to grab the collar of the boy's shirt and pulled him close, so close that Mike could smell the whiskey on the older man's breath. "Now you listen closely, boy, I don't know who you think you are, coming into my house and trying to influence my daughter with your illegal immigrant ways, but I suggest you get the hell out and don't come back. I swear, even God doesn't know what to do with your kind. I've seen your sorry excuse of a dad and you dare call him American? Can't even fucking speak English, how the hell is that American?"

Mike's eyes were wide as he struggled to get out of Russell's grasp. "Let go of me! You don't know what you're talking about!"

Unnoticed by both of them, Quinn had sidled up and began to tug at the arm holding onto Mike. "Daddy, please stop! He didn't do anything wrong."

The older man turned to look at her, his stare piercing. "Go back to the other side of the room, Quinn."

"Let go of him, daddy!"

Russell raised his hand and slapped her straight across the cheek, his wedding ring opening a cut on Quinn's face. "Don't you dare disobey me, girl. Go clean up your face while I take this piece of trash out."

"You can't do that!" Mike struggled harder, flailing his arms as Russell picked him up, carrying him down the stairs. "That's not right!"

"Don't ever come back here, boy." Russell yelled, pushing Mike out of the door, keeping his violence contained within the walls of his home, lest his neighbors find out.

He's jolted out of the memory by a tapping on his window. He shakes his head, composing himself and unlocks the car doors so Quinn can get in. "Spaced out tonight, MC?"

"Just thinking about things," he answers, starting the engine. It's something they don't talk about; once he tried to bring it up, knowing that she blamed herself for it, and she completely shut him down, choosing instead to throw a grenade at his character in Call of Duty. "So, where to? If you say Breadstix, I'm going to abandon you under a bridge."

"No fair! All the restaurants in this town are either Italian, Chinese or crappy fast food." She protests, lightly punching his shoulder.

"Abuse to get to Breadstix now, huh? I didn't know spending time with Finn turned you into Santana." He shoots back, trying to stifle his chuckles. "How about that pancake house on Cable road?"

"It's nighttime."

"Pancakes are best at night. And besides, no one's there at night, so you can tell me where you hid Finn's body without anyone eavesdropping."

She laughs, but her eyes tell another story. "Whatever you say." She fiddles with the radio, nose crinkling at the sounds of the Top 40. "Can I-"

"Go ahead," he cuts her off, already knowing her request. She slips her iPod out from her pocket, and moments later, soft folk music is playing. They do this a lot, refusing to divulge information during the car ride. Quinn swears its because Mike uses gestures to respond to information and therefore it simply isn't safe while he's driving, but he knows better. She talks more easily when there's bacon in front of her.

It's close to ten when they pull into the parking lot, tires screeching as Mike pulls off a turn that is close to impossible. They burst out of the car, cheeks pink from laughing and adrenaline. "You're going to be the death of me," Quinn chokes out.

"Pretty sure it's the cholesterol from all the bacon you eat," he teases, glad that he, at least, elicited a laugh from her. They settle into their usual booth, hearing the waitress call to the chef that the 'bacon pair' is here. "So tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong."

"Come on, you've been hiding that frown ever since you got into the car. What happened?" He leans back, stretching his arms, and waits for the story to unfold.

"I'm going to get a nosejob," Rachel announced as she walked out into the lobby where Finn and Quinn were waiting.

"What?"

"Rachel, I don't think that's such a good id-"

Cutting Finn off, she smiled sheepishly and pointed to her nose. "The doctor says that it could improve my voice."

"Rachel, I can't let you do that. No way!" Finn stood, walking closer to Rachel and grasping her arms. "You're okay just the way you are."

"Maybe she doesn't want to just be okay." Quinn's voice cut through the air, making Finn release Rachel.

"Quinn! What's your problem?"

"It's Rachel's decision." She said calmly, watching him fume. "Maybe you should go before you kick over a chair and no, that wasn't a request."

He stared her down, the tension thickening by the second. "Screw you, Quinn." He turned to Rachel, eyes pleading. "I don't have to go, right Rach?"

"Finn, as your friend, I am concerned for your safety while Quinn is in the building, so perhaps it'd be wise if you did leave."

He gaped at her, grasping for words. "She's playing you, Rachel!"

"You heard her, Finncompetent. Leave." He huffed and stormed out with such dramatics that it could easily be compared to one of Rachel's. Quinn laughed and murmured, "I think you're rubbing off on everyone with those storm outs."

"You really think I should get a nosejob?" Rachel's voice was soft, pained.

"Honestly, I'd rather you didn't, but it's not my decision to make for you." Quinn looked down at her hands, fidgeting under the shorter girl's gaze. "It's your life, Rachel. Your future and you can't make your decisions based off of what people are saying. You've never done it before."

"But," she hesitated, her insecurities kicking and screaming at the walls she spent so long to build up. "Maybe more people will like me...if I had a new nose."

"No," the blonde girl whispered, looking Rachel straight in the eye. "I know that this is my fault and I'm so, so, sorry. You are beautiful, and I'm sorry I ever made you feel otherwise. All this time, all the bullying I did, it was all just a big facade and this makes me so much worse than anyone you've dated, including Finn and Jesse. All I want to do is make it up to you."

"You don't get it, Quinn. You don't know how those guys think when they see me. You just don't!" The diva choked out, tears shining in her eyes.

"Yes, I do." The former head cheerleader reached out and took Rachel's hand in hers, running her thumb over the diva's knuckles tenderly. "God, yes I do. I like you. I like you so much and it's taken me so long to realize and I'm so stupid. I'm sorry, Rach."

"I can't believe you. You've never cared before, why start now?" Rachel pushed away from Quinn, walking briskly out the door of the doctor's office.

Mike drizzles syrup onto his bacon and pancakes as he tries to come up with something to say. He's never usually this hesitant; it's just that fragile Quinn is just as dangerous as angry Quinn. "I'm sorry," he offers, picking up his fork. "But, you know, after everything I can understand it from her point of view and that's what you have to do, too."

"I do understand it!"

He shakes his head, pushing a piece of bacon over to her plate. "I know it's hard to face, Q, but you've hurt Rachel a lot and you can make it up for it. Just...baby steps. Take baby steps."

She groans and slumps in her seat, rubbing a hand across her forehead. "I can't just make up for years of bullying with one romantic gesture though." She stabs at her bacon, her fork tines scratching at the plate. "It's not like I'm Finn. I can't just sing her a song in glee club and she'll forgive me."

"You're not Finn, you're better than Finn, you know that." He takes a sip from his coffee and searches his brain for any possible ideas. "Hey, you never told me why you were crying that day in the auditorium before regionals."

The blonde blushes, and squints down at her plate. "Do we have to talk about that?"

"Q."

"Fine," she relents. "Rachel kept asking me about Finn and I cracked, okay? I told her that she was going to get heartbroken and I was going to end up with Finn and become a successful real estate agent."

"You hate monopoly."

"It'd be better for me to end up with Finn, because then he wouldn't be holding her back from her dreams," she mutters softly, poking holes in her pancakes with the tines of her fork. "Her dreams are too big for this town and Finn is just another reason for her to stay. You know he won't leave this town, Mike."

"What about you?" He asks, dousing his bacon in more syrup. "I know you want out, but it's not like you're planning on following her to LA or New York."

She looks up from her plate, eyes drilling into his. "I would, and you know that."

"Then why didn't you just tell her that?"

"S'hard." She mumbles, averting her eyes once again.

"Wow, didn't know you were weak." He says it to provoke her and provoke her it does. Her back straightens and her grip on her fork tightens.

"I am not weak," she grits out. "I've been through so much and you're pushing your luck with the advice tonight."

"Prove it." He balls up his napkin and tosses it from hand to hand to calm his nerves. "You've done a lot of stuff, Q, and you can't do this? This is nothing compared to what you've gone through. The worse that happens is that she runs away scared, and that won't happen. You know why? Because I've seen the way she looks at you. It's the same way you look at her, but you're just too scared to realize it. But you need to work for it, and I mean really work for It. You have hears to make up for so time to man up, Fabray." His speech rolls to a finish and he waits for a response, but there's nothing.

She hasn't reacted, hasn't threatened to kill him and bury him in a shallow grave, and that's how he knows his words have really struck her. They finish the rest of their meals in quiet, and the ride back to the Fabray mansion is silent.

"Hey Q!" He calls as she exits the car. She stops and looks at him, one eyebrow raised.

"I'm proud of you. For telling her how you feel."

"Thanks MC," she finally says, her voice cracking. "For everything."

He smiles at her and clambers out of the car to give her a hug. He squeezes her tight against his chest, feeling the small droplets of her tears seep through his shirt. "You're really something great, you know? Just gotta let her see it? Maybe show her your Pokemon collection that you have hidden under your bed?"

She giggles and pulls out of the hug, rolling her eyes. "See you tomorrow."

"Au revoir," he says in a bad French accent(the one that makes her laugh), watching her walk inside the house before getting back into the car.

"Mike, may we have a word?" It's Monday and Schuester's late as usual, but it's a surprise when Rachel goes up to him. He sees Quinn visibly flinch and sighs. His days are never going back to normal.

"Sure." He follows her out of the room, and into the empty hallway where she leans against the lockers. "What's up?"

"I'd like to speak to you about Quinn." Figures, he thinks, his back to the wall next to her. "It's come to my attention that she has developed feelings for me and has been harboring them for a long period of time. Furthermore-"

"Rachel," he cuts her off, drumming his fingers on his thigh. "Maybe I'm not supposed to say this, but Quinn is in love with you. Like, hardcore."

She exhales sharply, her back going rigid. "This isn't a joke?"

"Not a joke. You can trust me. I'm not like everyone else and I'm not a bad guy." He knows he's a good guy because he hasn't ever once slushied anyone. It's the one of the few things he's proud of and he'll be damned if anyone thinks otherwise.

She scrutinizes him, as if scanning him to determine his sincerity. Finally, she says, "No, you're not. You're better than every guy I've liked and we've only had this one conversation."

He shrugs, neck growing warms as he blushes, just a bit. It's funny, hearing Rachel recognize him for something. "I wouldn't say better," he mumbles, shuffling his sneakers. "And I wouldn't lie about something like this."

"But...why did Quinn spend so much time being cruel to me?" The question comes out almost abruptly and it stings like a slushie on a cold day.

"Q is...she's had a hard life. She doesn't ever talk about feelings because that's how she was raised. Russell Fabray hated me for being her friend because I'm Asian. Imagine what he would have done to her if he knew his supposedly straight Catholic daughter was in love with a Jewish girl with two gay dads. He would have killed her, Rachel."

"That doesn't excuse her behavior."

"You're right, it doesn't. But there are things that you don't know, things that she has to tell you herself." He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I see the way you look at her, you know. I don't really sing in glee and I'm quiet a lot, but I see things and maybe you don't see it, but she looks at you the same way. Deep down, she's just a scared little girl."

"Little girls aren't emotionally abusive to the ones they supposedly like, Michael."

"Maybe she needs someone to help her grow up and realize that." He takes a step towards her, growing slightly more confident. "Maybe she needs you, Rachel."

"She could have had me! All this time, I've always extended friendship to Quinn. It's her that turns it down."

""You don't extend friendship to people, you extend love. She needs help. And you're the person right for the job, if you're willing."

"I want to-"

"Guys, what's going on? Why aren't you inside?" Mr. Schue says as he nearly collides with Mike. The Asian boy offers a shrug before trudging inside, a still stunned Rachel following him.

"What did Rachel say to you?" She practically assaults him as enters her room. It's been a long time since he's been in this room and he can't help but shiver at the feeling of it.

"I think you should talk to her," he says slowly, settling down onto the rug on her floor. "and explain to her about everything. About your repressed feelings, about.. Russell and why you are," he hesitates, already knowing the sting of his words. "emotionally fucked up towards Rachel."

"By fucked up, you mean abusive," she says flatly, turning to look at him.

He meets her hazel eyes and for a second, he's terrified. If there's anything worse than an angry Quinn, it was a bitter and self loathing Quinn. "Q," he murmurs, sighing. He doesn't like hurting her, but there is predetermined level of honesty in their friendship and he's going to stick by it.

"It's okay, Mike. I get it." She's pacing back and forth, ignoring the creaking that one stubborn floorboard keeps making as she steps on it. "I sort of realized after you dropped me off that night. But I can't be that person," she says pleadingly. "I just can't."

He hears the tears she's holding back as she tries to deny the part of her that is Russell Fabray. "Then change."

"I don't know how," she whispers, breathing raggedly as the tears start flowing down her cheeks.

"Talk to Rachel," he suggests, twisting strands of the rug. "I know what you're thinking, Q, and you aren't Russell, okay?"

"Okay," she whispers hoarsely, arms wrapping around herself as her eyes close. He gets up from his spot on the floor and hugs her tight. "Okay."

The day after Quinn announces she has a number planned, Rachel beats her to the punch. "Mr. Schue, I'd like to sing a song dedicated to one of the glee club members today." Finn sits up a little straighter and Mike chuckles as he wraps an arm around Tina.

"What's funny?" she whispers, leaning into him.

"Finn," he murmurs back, pressing a kiss to her cheek before directing his attention to Rachel, who's adjusting her microphone.

"I've doing a lot of thinking and I've come to the conclusion that I might reciprocate your feelings, I hope you know who you are," the diva says softly, eyes seeking out hazel ones. "She loves her mama's lemonade, hates the sound that goodbyes make. She prays one day she'll find someone to need her. She swears that there's no difference between lies and compliments. It's all the same if everybody leaves her."

She sings softly, tenderly and Mike feels as if he shouldn't be here. It should be just Quinn and Rachel.

"She's not a drama queen, she doesn't want to feel this way, only seventeen and tired." Rachel's moving around everyone in the risers, gently nudging him before briefly resting a hand on Quinn's shoulder. "And she would change everything, everything just ask her."

As the song comes to an end, the brunette is back in the front, eyes still locked onto the blonde girl who's fighting back tears next to Mike.

"And she just needs someone to take her home," Rachel finishes, and Schuester flips the lights back on as he claps.

"Wow, that was brilliant. That's what we're looking for, guys. This week, find a song that makes you feel something. A song you're passionate about. Great way to start us off, Rachel." As he moves off to write the word 'passion' on the board, Finn walks over to Rachel, hands shoved in his pockets.

"Hey Rach," he starts awkwardly. "Uh, great song you just did and I totally got that it was for me and all. Look, I know things have been kind of weird ever since you and Quinn started being friends, but I was wondering if you'd like to go bowling with me this Friday?"

She stares at him, wondering just how much protection the football helmets offer these days. "Finn, that's...sweet, but I have my heart set on someone more deserving of time, also with a vernacular that could measure up to mine."

"But, I told you not to get a nose job!"

"Yes and while I appreciate that and am certainly not getting a nose job, I hope that you will respect my feelings in order to keep our friendship intact." She walks away from him and strides purposefully towards Quinn. "Quinn, may I speak to you outside?"

"S-sure," the blonde stammers, suddenly incredibly nervous. Mike sends her an encouraging smile and hugs Tina tighter. Finally, things are progressing. He knows that it's still a long way to go and a lot of tears to be shed, but for the first time in his life, he knows that things are finally on the right path for Quinn.