(Untitled)

[hbicheer]

Some people say laughter is the best medicine, and head Cheerio Quinn Fabray might have agreed with them. There's nothing as soul-cleansing as nearly throwing up the Coach Sylvester energy drink due slushie-on-Rachel-Berry induced laughter. And God knows that crap burns on the way back up

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[alas_yorick]

Yorick notices someone pinning a notice to the bulletin board and lurks inconspicuously behind them to find out what's up.

Glee club? Those are real? Huh.

"I'm always looking for new ways to express my innermost feelings," he says.

[hbicheer]

Quinn turns around and fixes him with a patented, trademark bitchface. "Are you really going to give a poor pregnant teenage girl grief about the only thing she has left in her life?"

[thirdboxcar]

He thinks it's silly, but Walt can't help but feel excited at this notice. He likes singing, and if he can do it with other people, that's fine with him.

At least this way, he doesn't have to feel weird when he starts belting out songs around people!

"Hey," he says to the girl who's just pinned up the notice, "This is a great idea."

[hbicheer]

Quinn turns around, and actually smiles. Just a little bit, because she's learned the dangers of giving it all away too early. Though to be fair, this guy's not a charming, deceitful Jew.

"Thanks," she says. "I don't know if anyone will be into it."

[thirdboxcar]

"I'm into it," Walt tells her, and with a sheepish grin, the tips of his ears beginning to burn (he's pretty sure if the guys from his team saw him like this, or knew he was thinking of joining a glee club, they'd give him hell), he adds, "I'd love to join."

[hbicheer]

Quinn takes a good look at him. "Really? Can you sing?" She immediately winces, and sighs. "Sorry." THERE'S a first. "It doesn't really matter if you can sing. We're supposed to take everyone."

[mentalistjane]

Patrick walked up to the notice, tilting his head with interest. He put his teacup down on his saucer, and walked up to read it. After he skimmed the brief wording, he turned to the girl and asked politely, "Listen, I can't sing a note - but could you use an accompanist?"

[hbicheer]

To be honest, Quinn hasn't thought about where she's going to get an accompanist. She's always kind of thought they just heard someone singing and showed up. That's how it happens at home, anyway.

"We really could," she says.

[mentalistjane]

Patrick sipped his tea again, and nodded, pleased. He offered her his cup and saucer, so he could write his name on the bottom in a good swirl, Patrick Jane. He nodded, and took his tea back from the pert little blonde.

"What kind of music sheets would you like me to bring it along? I can play - well - just about anything."

[hbicheer]

"What do you have?" In her experience, any song could turn itself into the right song. Everyone has certain leanings, of course; Mr. Schue and his white guy rap, for one. "Bring anything you have."

She smiles, hands resting on her stomach, the go-to position.