These strange steps

12

She and Kurt finally agree to switch a few songs around, but only because her fiftieth performance is on Thursday night.

"You need to close the night with a bang," Kurt says, and she doesn't really disagree. Special occasions have become very commonplace in her life, so as to be less special almost by definition, but she can muster up a little bit of enthusiasm for Vegas just because...

Well, it doesn't matter.

A fiftieth show is a big deal, and so they cycle through a few diva-style big belt favorites until Rachel thinks about what will actually make the night happen for her. There has to be something she can sing that will actually make her feel like this isn't just any other night.

They're both staring at opposite walls in her dressing room, which is decorated in some really gauche flowery print that has been giving her a migraine for almost two full months now, when the idea hits her.

She looks at Kurt and says, "I want to do I Feel Pretty."

Kurt glances up from his Blackberry and frowns at her lightly. "... why? Not that it's not a good song, but-what's the connection to this event?"

Of course. He wasn't there when she considered getting a nose job, back in junior year. He wasn't around for any of that, and Puck isn't a part of these kinds of decisions as a general rule, so ... she might actually be able to get this approved without any asking if she's lost her mind or if she actually thinks that an inside joke directed at someone who won't even watch the fiftieth performance is an appropriate celebration of the occurrence.

She smiles, suddenly feeling inspired, and says, "Call it a self-perpetuating prophecy. Perhaps if I just sing-"

"Okay, but you're definitely going with bright, not gay, okay?" he says, and she sighs before she can stop it.

"Kurt, singing a thematic song from one of the highest grossing musical movies of all times in its day time form is hardly going to suddenly suggest to the world that I'm a lesbian."

"No, I know, but-"

"What's really going on?" she asks, when he looks uncomfortable anyway.

Kurt looks at her briefly, then carefully puts his phone down, and looks at her again, "May I speak frankly?"

"I didn't realize you had a non-frank setting," she says, pulling her legs up to her chest and leaning back in her swivel chair. "Go ahead."

"I've... looked into Quinn, as I'm sure you expected me to, and while on the surface everything checks out perfectly fine, there is a problem when you start digging," he says, hesitantly.

Rachel does her best impression of... well, Quinn; except her face has always been devastatingly expressive, so she's sure some of her shock-which really masking gut-clenching fear-is showing. "That being?"

Her heart starts to pound at the mere idea that he'll say something like, she thrives on taking off her clothes for cash. And he might. Quinn had mentioned something, when they'd eaten in that diner together, about the club's express focus on both client and employee privacy, and she suspects that Quinn doesn't work there under her own name-but this is Kurt, and Kurt knows how to expose other people's laundry in ways that the average person would never bother.

Kurt's mouth opens and closes a few times, and then he cringes and says, "Rachel, she's kind of a player in the gay scene."

Oh.

"I don't know how to say this without making her sound slutty, but-she gets around. After a few phone calls, I already had a list of three girls willing to say a few choice things about her; mind you, it was mostly complimentary, but still ..."