Fic: Step Ball Change, Chapter Six
Title: Step Ball Change, Chapter Six
Characters: Love quadrangle Rachel/Puck/Finn/Quinn, with Brittany and ensemble
Word Count: 1768 this chapter
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: If I owned Glee then all proceeds would go to the Howard Bamboo Legal Defense Fund.
Spoilers/Warnings: Spoilers up to "Mash-Up," diverges from canon from there.
Summary: Rachel, Puck, Finn, and Quinn try to sort out their relationships with one another, while Brittany tries to make new friends in glee club.
A/N: Beta beta beta beta rockin' everywhere is the fantabulous cameroncrazed.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
At some point during the day it had started to rain - a fiercely cold late autumn drenching that had students scrambling for the buses and cars after school. It hadn't let up during glee practice, and two of the club's members found themselves waiting beneath the awning at the school's side entrance.
Brittany was leaning on one side of the entrance, her arms crossed and her backpack dangling from the crook of her elbow. She looked up at the sky as though lost in thought. There was a lot she needed to consider, after all. Mostly she needed to figure out which was worth more to her, her loyalty to the Cheerios or her new friends in New Directions. But on this dreary, gray afternoon, Brittany had a more immediate issue to worry about.
Rachel lingered just outside the doorway, waiting for her own ride and watching Brittany hesitate at the edge of the overhang. "Is something wrong?" she asked, unused to seeing Brittany's face so screwed up in contemplation.
Brittany turned to face Rachel, looking sad and contemplative. She pointed out into the parking lot; there were a few vehicles still there, mostly in the teacher's parking section, but Brittany was indicating a small sedan in the student lot all on its own. "I locked my keys in the car."
"That sucks," Rachel replied. "How are you going to get home?"
"I've just been walking all week, but I don't have an umbrella."
"You've been walking home all week?" Rachel asked, perplexed. "When did you lock your keys in the car?"
"Last Wednesday," Brittany said, her ponytail bobbing. "I think. Or maybe Thursday."
Rachel's eyes widened. She briefly wondered how Brittany had gotten a driver's license in the first place, but she quickly pushed that thought aside. The more important thing right now was to make sure Brittany got home safely. "One of my dads is coming to pick me up," she said. "Would you like a ride?"
"Like a piggy-back ride?" Brittany asked. She bounced on her toes, giddy with excitement.
Rachel couldn't help but smile. "Like a ride home," she clarified.
"Okay!" Brittany exclaimed, losing none of her enthusiasm. "Thanks, Rachel. That's really nice of you."
"He should be here in fifteen minutes or so. Practice got out earlier than I thought it would today."
"Cool." Brittany shifted her backpack strap to her shoulder and moved closer to Rachel. "You were really good at practice today."
"Thanks," Rachel said. Her smile was punctuated by a blush on her cheeks. "You're pretty good too, and if you improved your breath support, you'd be even better."
Brittany looked down at her chest, palming her bosom unabashedly.
"Not... not that. Breath support."
Brittany's lips formed a small o of surprise, and she let her hands fall to her waist. "Thanks for your help, Rachel," Brittany smiled. "And the ride, and everything. Let me know if you ever need help with your homework."
"It's no problem," Rachel replied, just as a car pulled up to the awning. "Shall we go?"
"Yes?" Brittany asked. With that, Rachel hooked her arm into the cheerleader's as she led the way.
****
It was a challenge getting the door to his apartment open when his arms were laden with take-out, but somehow Will managed. "Hey honey," he called out, stepping inside and letting the door shut behind him. "I brought home dinner. Mexican."
"Mexican?" Terri's voice came shrilly from the kitchen. "Will, you know I've been getting such horrible heartburn lately," she harped. She met him in the dining room, drying her hands on a dish towel that she then tossed over her shoulder. When she saw Will's face, worn and weary, though, she quickly changed her tune. "But thank you," she added. "I just hope you got regular rice, and not the spicy kind." She took one of the bags from Will and led him into the kitchen.
"Did you go to the dermatologist about the rash on your belly?" Will asked, setting his take-out bag on the counter as Terri began gathering their place settings. "That was today, wasn't it?" Terri hadn't let him touch her for days, complaining about a reaction to the cocoa butter his mother had sent her to help prevent stretch marks. He was starting to get peevish about it, especially since she'd been fussing about it for weeks now and had only gone to the doctor on his insistence.
"He won't give me anything to help clear it up, since I'm pregnant," Terri explained, "but he said it would go away on its own in a few weeks." They quickly helped themselves to their meals and carried their own plates into the dining room, where they took their usual seats at opposite sides of the table.
"That's.... great," Will replied as he sat down. "So it shouldn't be long before I get to feel our daughter kick, then?"
Terri took longer than usual to chew her food, but Will didn't seem to notice before continuing. "Oh, you wouldn't believe what I learned at school today."
"Please don't tell me it's more of that singing and dancing drama," Terri replied, rolling her eyes. "If I have to hear any more about that Rachel girl storming off again..."
"It's not about Rachel," Will interjected. "It's about Quinn, and Finn, and the baby."
Terri's face fell. "Is everything all right?" she asked, obviously concerned. Moments like these reminded Will that his wife was actually human; sometimes she could be overcome with worry about others. It was refreshing, and it reminded him of why he'd fallen for her in the first place. He'd noticed she took a particular interest in Quinn and her troubles, probably because Terri saw a lot of herself in Quinn. "Is the baby okay?"
"The baby's fine... I think," Will replied. "That's not the issue. The issue is that Finn - the boyfriend - he told me today that he's not the father."
"Finn's not the father?" Terri's fork fell to her plate. "Well then, who is?"
"It's another kid in New Directions - Puck. Noah Puckerman, I mean."
"Oh, oh, oh," Terri started. "Oh no. I mean, oh my."
"It's just... the whole thing has gotten so complicated. I can't help but feel bad for all of them." Will set his forkful of chimichanga down, letting himself stroke his chin in thought. "I can't believe she'd keep up a lie like that, though, knowing how many people were bound to get hurt by it. I mean, why not just come clean in the first place, right? It's a lot worse now than it would have been then."
Terri mulled over Will's words silently. She considered her next words very carefully as she reached for her glass, taking a sip and washing down the (spicy) rice she'd just been eating. Finally, she asked, "She's still planning to give the baby up for adoption, right?"
"I think she is, but I don't know how Puck would feel about that," Will replied, uncertain. "Are you okay, Terri? You're being awfully quiet."
"It's just... it's just so much more interesting than what's going on at Sheets 'N Things, is all," Terri said. "And the heartburn," she added, putting her palm on her throat for emphasis.
"Speaking of Sheets 'N Things, has Howard Bamboo come back to work yet?" Will asked.
"You know, I haven't seen him," Terri replied. "I think he requested a new schedule that doesn't overlap with mine."
"Well, you did help him make the FBI's watch list."
"And the six o'clock news," Terri continued. "He should thank me; now he's a local celebrity. People recognize him in the store all the time now."
Will wanted to say something, but he thought the better of it and shoveled another helping of chimichanga into his mouth. Sometimes, with Terri, it was better just to let things be.
****
After another long, weird day at school, Quinn found herself looking forward to her long, weird afternoon at home. Her mother had just gotten Quinn's gown for the chastity ball back from the tailor, and she wanted Quinn to try it on. As Quinn walked to her car in the parking lot, she idly let her hand follow the slight convex curve of her stomach, wondering about the width of her waist. When she opened the driver's side door to her car, she tossed her books over into the passenger seat, which elicited a cry of pain and surprise from inside.
"Oh! Watch what you're doing!" Terri Schuester screeched. "You could take an eye out like that! You want your baby's mother to be half-blind?"
"Mrs. Schuester!" Quinn jumped, shocked. "You nearly gave me a heart attack! What are you doing here? How do you even get in? I could have sworn I had locked it."
"Quinn, there's something we need to discuss," Terri replied. "Get in the car."
Quinn furrowed her eyebrows, unsure, but she complied anyway, slamming the car door shut behind her as she settled into her seat.
"You haven't been entirely honest about your situation with me, have you?" Terri asked.
"What are you talking about?"
Terri cocked her head in an expression of faux-sympathy, the tone in her voice concerned yet condescending. "Finn's not the father, is he?"
"Who told you?" Quinn shot back.
"Never mind that," Terri said, brushing the question aside with a wave of her hand. "What I need to know is... well... the father isn't black, is he?"
"No, he's...." Quinn said, startled, "Jewish."
"How Jewish does he look, on a scale from one to ten?" Terri pressed on. "One being regular and ten being Woody Allen."
Quinn was boggled. She couldn't get her head around Mrs. Schuester's line of questioning. "What?" she asked lamely. This must be what Brittany feels like all the time.
"Listen, Quinn - I need my husband to believe this is his baby. And, as I told you before, there can't be any baby-daddy drama about this. This kid - Puck, is it? - he's not giving you a hard time, is he?"
"He's not," Quinn stated, finally. "He's not."
Terri smiled, satisfied. "Okay, then. That's all I needed to know." She unceremoniously shoved Quinn's belongings from her lap and left the teenager alone in her car, where she stared blankly above her steering wheel, struggling to get her head around everything that had unraveled in the past few days. She sighed and finished her sentence a million different ways in her head. He's not going to agree about adoption. He's not going to give her up. He's not going to let that happen.
Characters: Love quadrangle Rachel/Puck/Finn/Quinn, with Brittany and ensemble
Word Count: 1768 this chapter
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: If I owned Glee then all proceeds would go to the Howard Bamboo Legal Defense Fund.
Spoilers/Warnings: Spoilers up to "Mash-Up," diverges from canon from there.
Summary: Rachel, Puck, Finn, and Quinn try to sort out their relationships with one another, while Brittany tries to make new friends in glee club.
A/N: Beta beta beta beta rockin' everywhere is the fantabulous cameroncrazed.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
At some point during the day it had started to rain - a fiercely cold late autumn drenching that had students scrambling for the buses and cars after school. It hadn't let up during glee practice, and two of the club's members found themselves waiting beneath the awning at the school's side entrance.
Brittany was leaning on one side of the entrance, her arms crossed and her backpack dangling from the crook of her elbow. She looked up at the sky as though lost in thought. There was a lot she needed to consider, after all. Mostly she needed to figure out which was worth more to her, her loyalty to the Cheerios or her new friends in New Directions. But on this dreary, gray afternoon, Brittany had a more immediate issue to worry about.
Rachel lingered just outside the doorway, waiting for her own ride and watching Brittany hesitate at the edge of the overhang. "Is something wrong?" she asked, unused to seeing Brittany's face so screwed up in contemplation.
Brittany turned to face Rachel, looking sad and contemplative. She pointed out into the parking lot; there were a few vehicles still there, mostly in the teacher's parking section, but Brittany was indicating a small sedan in the student lot all on its own. "I locked my keys in the car."
"That sucks," Rachel replied. "How are you going to get home?"
"I've just been walking all week, but I don't have an umbrella."
"You've been walking home all week?" Rachel asked, perplexed. "When did you lock your keys in the car?"
"Last Wednesday," Brittany said, her ponytail bobbing. "I think. Or maybe Thursday."
Rachel's eyes widened. She briefly wondered how Brittany had gotten a driver's license in the first place, but she quickly pushed that thought aside. The more important thing right now was to make sure Brittany got home safely. "One of my dads is coming to pick me up," she said. "Would you like a ride?"
"Like a piggy-back ride?" Brittany asked. She bounced on her toes, giddy with excitement.
Rachel couldn't help but smile. "Like a ride home," she clarified.
"Okay!" Brittany exclaimed, losing none of her enthusiasm. "Thanks, Rachel. That's really nice of you."
"He should be here in fifteen minutes or so. Practice got out earlier than I thought it would today."
"Cool." Brittany shifted her backpack strap to her shoulder and moved closer to Rachel. "You were really good at practice today."
"Thanks," Rachel said. Her smile was punctuated by a blush on her cheeks. "You're pretty good too, and if you improved your breath support, you'd be even better."
Brittany looked down at her chest, palming her bosom unabashedly.
"Not... not that. Breath support."
Brittany's lips formed a small o of surprise, and she let her hands fall to her waist. "Thanks for your help, Rachel," Brittany smiled. "And the ride, and everything. Let me know if you ever need help with your homework."
"It's no problem," Rachel replied, just as a car pulled up to the awning. "Shall we go?"
"Yes?" Brittany asked. With that, Rachel hooked her arm into the cheerleader's as she led the way.
****
It was a challenge getting the door to his apartment open when his arms were laden with take-out, but somehow Will managed. "Hey honey," he called out, stepping inside and letting the door shut behind him. "I brought home dinner. Mexican."
"Mexican?" Terri's voice came shrilly from the kitchen. "Will, you know I've been getting such horrible heartburn lately," she harped. She met him in the dining room, drying her hands on a dish towel that she then tossed over her shoulder. When she saw Will's face, worn and weary, though, she quickly changed her tune. "But thank you," she added. "I just hope you got regular rice, and not the spicy kind." She took one of the bags from Will and led him into the kitchen.
"Did you go to the dermatologist about the rash on your belly?" Will asked, setting his take-out bag on the counter as Terri began gathering their place settings. "That was today, wasn't it?" Terri hadn't let him touch her for days, complaining about a reaction to the cocoa butter his mother had sent her to help prevent stretch marks. He was starting to get peevish about it, especially since she'd been fussing about it for weeks now and had only gone to the doctor on his insistence.
"He won't give me anything to help clear it up, since I'm pregnant," Terri explained, "but he said it would go away on its own in a few weeks." They quickly helped themselves to their meals and carried their own plates into the dining room, where they took their usual seats at opposite sides of the table.
"That's.... great," Will replied as he sat down. "So it shouldn't be long before I get to feel our daughter kick, then?"
Terri took longer than usual to chew her food, but Will didn't seem to notice before continuing. "Oh, you wouldn't believe what I learned at school today."
"Please don't tell me it's more of that singing and dancing drama," Terri replied, rolling her eyes. "If I have to hear any more about that Rachel girl storming off again..."
"It's not about Rachel," Will interjected. "It's about Quinn, and Finn, and the baby."
Terri's face fell. "Is everything all right?" she asked, obviously concerned. Moments like these reminded Will that his wife was actually human; sometimes she could be overcome with worry about others. It was refreshing, and it reminded him of why he'd fallen for her in the first place. He'd noticed she took a particular interest in Quinn and her troubles, probably because Terri saw a lot of herself in Quinn. "Is the baby okay?"
"The baby's fine... I think," Will replied. "That's not the issue. The issue is that Finn - the boyfriend - he told me today that he's not the father."
"Finn's not the father?" Terri's fork fell to her plate. "Well then, who is?"
"It's another kid in New Directions - Puck. Noah Puckerman, I mean."
"Oh, oh, oh," Terri started. "Oh no. I mean, oh my."
"It's just... the whole thing has gotten so complicated. I can't help but feel bad for all of them." Will set his forkful of chimichanga down, letting himself stroke his chin in thought. "I can't believe she'd keep up a lie like that, though, knowing how many people were bound to get hurt by it. I mean, why not just come clean in the first place, right? It's a lot worse now than it would have been then."
Terri mulled over Will's words silently. She considered her next words very carefully as she reached for her glass, taking a sip and washing down the (spicy) rice she'd just been eating. Finally, she asked, "She's still planning to give the baby up for adoption, right?"
"I think she is, but I don't know how Puck would feel about that," Will replied, uncertain. "Are you okay, Terri? You're being awfully quiet."
"It's just... it's just so much more interesting than what's going on at Sheets 'N Things, is all," Terri said. "And the heartburn," she added, putting her palm on her throat for emphasis.
"Speaking of Sheets 'N Things, has Howard Bamboo come back to work yet?" Will asked.
"You know, I haven't seen him," Terri replied. "I think he requested a new schedule that doesn't overlap with mine."
"Well, you did help him make the FBI's watch list."
"And the six o'clock news," Terri continued. "He should thank me; now he's a local celebrity. People recognize him in the store all the time now."
Will wanted to say something, but he thought the better of it and shoveled another helping of chimichanga into his mouth. Sometimes, with Terri, it was better just to let things be.
****
After another long, weird day at school, Quinn found herself looking forward to her long, weird afternoon at home. Her mother had just gotten Quinn's gown for the chastity ball back from the tailor, and she wanted Quinn to try it on. As Quinn walked to her car in the parking lot, she idly let her hand follow the slight convex curve of her stomach, wondering about the width of her waist. When she opened the driver's side door to her car, she tossed her books over into the passenger seat, which elicited a cry of pain and surprise from inside.
"Oh! Watch what you're doing!" Terri Schuester screeched. "You could take an eye out like that! You want your baby's mother to be half-blind?"
"Mrs. Schuester!" Quinn jumped, shocked. "You nearly gave me a heart attack! What are you doing here? How do you even get in? I could have sworn I had locked it."
"Quinn, there's something we need to discuss," Terri replied. "Get in the car."
Quinn furrowed her eyebrows, unsure, but she complied anyway, slamming the car door shut behind her as she settled into her seat.
"You haven't been entirely honest about your situation with me, have you?" Terri asked.
"What are you talking about?"
Terri cocked her head in an expression of faux-sympathy, the tone in her voice concerned yet condescending. "Finn's not the father, is he?"
"Who told you?" Quinn shot back.
"Never mind that," Terri said, brushing the question aside with a wave of her hand. "What I need to know is... well... the father isn't black, is he?"
"No, he's...." Quinn said, startled, "Jewish."
"How Jewish does he look, on a scale from one to ten?" Terri pressed on. "One being regular and ten being Woody Allen."
Quinn was boggled. She couldn't get her head around Mrs. Schuester's line of questioning. "What?" she asked lamely. This must be what Brittany feels like all the time.
"Listen, Quinn - I need my husband to believe this is his baby. And, as I told you before, there can't be any baby-daddy drama about this. This kid - Puck, is it? - he's not giving you a hard time, is he?"
"He's not," Quinn stated, finally. "He's not."
Terri smiled, satisfied. "Okay, then. That's all I needed to know." She unceremoniously shoved Quinn's belongings from her lap and left the teenager alone in her car, where she stared blankly above her steering wheel, struggling to get her head around everything that had unraveled in the past few days. She sighed and finished her sentence a million different ways in her head. He's not going to agree about adoption. He's not going to give her up. He's not going to let that happen.