Never asked to feel your halo (Faberry)

19: These Secrets Must Remain Our Own.

Quinn's head was inside her locker, looking for an elusive biology textbook, when she heard a shoulder connect with the locker beside hers. She didn't acknowledge it right away, convinced it would be Berry and in no way ready to deal with her yet.

She was beyond freaked out about last night. She hadn't been; she'd been fine for the rest of the evening, happy that she'd gotten what she wanted and that she'd had a nice time in the process. She'd been completely okay with the warmth created by spending an evening in Rachel's company, she'd even been making half-formed plans about asking her out again sometime – just as friends, but even that was a big step – right up until she'd woken up at five am in a cold sweat over the whole thing.

She hadn't been able to go back to sleep after her nightmare – a nightmare that had only become a nightmare after she'd woken up – and now she was on edge and the thought of seeing Berry made her feel just a little bit sick. The fact that the morning sickness was having a blast today and making her feel a lot sick, and that Berry was fast becoming the only thing in the world that could keep it at bay, was just making the morning way too difficult.

Add to that the fact that Berry shouldn't even be trying to speak to her outside of Glee, and certainly not waiting expectantly at her locker to be acknowledged, was also making her angry. Because now she'd have to shout at her, or put her down in some way so anyone noticing this irregularity in the social order wouldn't think it was welcomed, and however freaked out she was, she didn't want to hurt Rachel. Not after last night.

All of this was racing through her mind, making her oblivious to everything else, and so she physically jumped when Santana's voice floated over her shoulder and into her locker.

"So, how did practice go last night?"

Quinn pulled her head out, confused. "You were there at practice."

"Not Cheerios, your church singing thing. Did your Mom and Dad like it?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, I guess." She'd forgotten about her hastily concocted lie the night before. "Why?"

"Just, you better be good."

Santana was smirking at her and Quinn knew that expression. It made her stomach go cold and she didn't like that she didn't know the reason for her best friend's sudden smugness.

"Why?" she repeated.

"Well, I told Britt about it and now she wants to come and see you sing. It's this Sunday, right?"

What? No! That couldn't happen!

"Um, yeah, but no, you don't want to do that. It'll be boring. I mean, it's just me singing a hymn, it's nothing special."

"Don't put yourself down, Q. Me and Britts are really looking forward to your little performance."

"Please don't. I'm already nervous about standing up there in front of everyone. If I know you and Brittany are there . . ."

"Actually we thought about asking the rest of the Gleeks too. You know, to show our support and stuff. Schue will love it, all that club bonding."

Oh God! If she called Pastor Williams right now would he agree to let her sing for Sunday's congregation?

"I, uh, um, I, uh . . ."

"Wow, Quinn, I really hope for your sake the performance you put on on Sunday is more like the one you gave me last night, because so far this morning's sucks."

"What?"

Santana leaned in closer, dropping her voice. "You weren't practicing a song for church last night."