Will The Real Rachel Berry Please Stand Up?

3

The front door slammed behind Rachel as she marched into the kitchen, throwing her bag onto the table. She gingerly removed a plastic bag of stained, wet clothes and headed for the washing machine – she barely had time to cover up the evidence of an emergency wash before her dads returned from work. She briefly considered a glass of water but decided she was sad rather than thirsty. Not just sad but somewhat disappointed at nearly losing control and having a go at Quinn. Rachel searched in her bag for her phones, putting the bedazzled one to the side and fishing for her blackberry. The bedazzled one was just a prop for her school persona and really, the McKinley masses didn't try too hard to look beyond surface appearances. Grabbing her real phone, she quickly texted Ali .What she needed right now was to vent with some songs and her best friend in the basement. A couple of loud songs and she'd be ready for another sterling performance of over-achieving annoying Rachel Berry.

As she passed the mirror in the hallway Rachel came to a stop and turned to face it. Making her face as angry as possible she placed her hands on her hips and, altering her voice, intoned, "RuPaul. This had better be important." followed by a "Berry, as far as I'm concerned you're talking to yourself." No, it wasn't quite right – the cheerleader's venomous tone still eluded her. Never mind, there would be plenty of unpleasant interactions with Quinn to enable her to hone her Quinn-craft. She was about to head up the stairs, but she paused and turned back. One more, she told herself. She wasn't quite sure what that last look had been on Quinn's face so she went for disdain.

"D-Do you want me to help you?" Rachel attempted, immediately grimacing at herself. Stuttering was a bit of a challenge after all that time and parental money spent on elocution and enunciation classes – perhaps she should ask Tina how she had faked a stutter for so long? Mind you Tina didn't exactly say much when going through her mock stutter phase - and anyway what was Quinn's stuttering all about? She'd seen Quinn's eyes sweep over her body in disgust. She needed to keep her distance from Quinn to avoid whatever soul-destroying scheme the head cheerleader had in mind. Right now though, she needed to lose the outfit and chill out in a pair of jeans. Her phone beeped with an affirmative response to her short-notice invitation. Ali was always more than happy to belt out a cathartic rendition of 'I Will Survive' but a figure-hugging top would probably ensure she was more amenable than usual to Rachel's song suggestions. The joys of having a woman-loving bestie! No doubt Ali would be opting for 'Sex on Fire' or some equally unsubtle pop ballad. Rachel laughed as she ran up the stairs, her mood lifting. She didn't want to get all Scarlett O'Hara-ish but tomorrow really was another day. Perhaps she could choose tomorrow's fashion faux pas outfit before tonight's fun begins.

Quinn surveyed the scene from the top of the pyramid, trying to decide what proportion of shallow bitches in the team were required to tip their collective label from 'cheerleaders' to 'bimbotic balancing gymnasts'. Santana and Brittany as close friends were naturally exempted from that judgement, but... 'bimbo, bimbo, no idea, bimbo' crossed her mind as her eyes swept over the nearest girls (who, again, she was entrusting her well-being to) holding her up. Damn short stack and her insults. Sue Sylvester's megaphone cut across her musings – time to hit the showers and head home to prepare for an exhausting evening run. She really needed a good night's sleep and the singing gnome out of her head. She realised she was humming a Kylie Minogue classic although "Your loving is all I think about" was hardly a relevant lyric. Berry was definitely not sexual fantasy material with her overbearing manner, appalling taste in skimpy, long and shapely leg-revealing skirts, inability to keep that kissable mouth shut ...although her toned abs were a definite plus (thank you slushy attack for that visual intoned her inner voice sarcastically). Quinn shook her head to try and physically clear her thoughts – cold shower it was then.

That evening as Quinn pounded the pavement heading for a run once around the park she noted a vaguely familiar figure heading for the Berry household. Okay, so maybe it was a slight detour to pass Treasure Trail's abode on the way to the park but a long run obviously required an indirect route. The auburn hair wasn't enough of a hint but when Berry greeted the figure with a big hug and an enthusiastic "Ali, hope you're ready for a musical face-off!" the 'Berry Incident' came flooding back. Quinn picked up her pace as a wave of annoyance washed over her – make th..at two laps around the park she harrumphed.