Berry Blues | Quinn Fabray

Part Fifteen: (The Power Of Madonna) CONE BOOBS!!

"What 'cha drawin'...?" your question trailed off as you leaned over to peer down at Quinn's notebook. Looking up at her, you said, "That better not be what I think it is. But with the name and all, it really gives it away. I can't hit you. You're pregnant. Also-!"

"Please stop talking," Quinn said monotone.

You jammed your finger repeatedly into the drawing. "Why is there a mass amount of hearts surrounding her?" 'Her' of course, being your sister. Rachel Berry. "That seems pretty gay, Fabray. Are you trying to hide something?"

Smirking back at the blonde, at the blank look she gave you, with her distracted, switching her gaze to either of your eyes, you swiftly ripped the page out of the book, crumpled it into a ball.

"I was working on that."

"Yeah, well, now you're kinda not." Tapping again at the new sheet of paper. "Draw me next."

"You really don't want me to do that."

"Oh, Miss Fabray, are you telling me you'd draw your lude fantasies of me? Do go on."

Before Quinn could reply, your sister began talking.

"Can I ask you guys something private?"

"Yes, you should move to Israel." Santana nodded. Receiving the crumpled up ball, that was previously sat in your lap, to the side of her head.

"Don't laugh at that," you muttered to Quinn, as she stifled her laugh, staring at you as she forced her smile back. Only to make you do the same, having to push your face into your arm that rested along the back of your chair, as mute chuckles poured from your lips, the blonde watching you with giggles of her own. Both of you none the wiser of the glance Mercedes and Tina shared.

Coming down to the front of the small group, Rachel sat on the stool she had just moved.

"It's about dating." You and Quinn looked back to her. "Not that I'm dating anyone."

" Slick, " you replied knowingly. You did, after all, share a house with her, and she wasn't very sneaky.

"We all know that Finn and I are no longer an item, and for the sake of the teal, I broke up with Jessie."

You gave a loud fake cough, " Bullshit. "

"But let's just say I was dating someone. Let's just say, hypothetically, we went to a Wiggles concert last Friday night, and because my dad's and Y/N weren't home, we went up to my room and started making out."

" Gross - Oh my, God. You're not pregnant too, are you?!" you rushed to ask, only to gain an elbow to your ribs from the pregnant blonde beside you, "Ow."

"It was erotic and romantic." You gagged at that. "And then he said "We should do it", obviously meaning... it ... I said no. What if then he got really crabby and left. And didn't even take home the Care Bear I won him playing Skee Ball?"

Your face grew to one as hard as stone, anger bubbling just under the surface. Voice just as hard, "I'm sorry. What? "

"Would you please stop talking?" Quinn spoke up next, placing a hand on your forearm, hoping to alleviate the tightness of your fist, "You're grossing out my baby."

"I just want to be ready; I know I'm getting older and these things are gonna happen someday, but how do I stop a guy from getting mad at me for saying 'no'?"

"Just do what I do," Santana said before you had a chance to speak, "Never say 'no'."

"What? That's not advice!"

"Oh, totally ," Brittany said, agreeing to Santana's point, "I mean, what's the worst thing that can happen? Sorry, Quinn."

You placed your hand on the blonde's knee, giving it a little squeeze.