So here's my second fanfiction! And surprisingly, I didn't go with the PWP route. Don't worry, there is Brittana love. Andddd some Quinn bashing. I just thought letting Quinn get away with her whining in the hotel room in New York was supremely pathetic and honestly, not much other than Finchel was addressed in that episode. So here's to devoting more than an offscreen haircut to a moment with real potential. I hope you like it!
Quinn stared them down with red rimmed eyes. "Aren't we supposed to be the popular girls? So why can't we have our dreams come true? She has love, Tina has it, even Zizes hooks up…"
Backing away from Brittany and Santana, she collapsed on the bed. "I just want somebody to love me."
The sudden pain in her cheek knocked her back. She saw stars and swore, reaching up blindly to get her hands on Santana.
But the brunette's dark eyes were wide with shock, and instead of Quinn, were focused on Brittany.
"Britt…what the fuck was that?" Santana said weakly. Brittany had a fire in her light eyes that neither girl had ever witnessed, and her hand was raised as though she was ready to strike again.
The tears flowed freely from Quinn's eyes as she gaped up at her former partner in crime against the Glee club. "Why… how could you…" she stuttered out.
"You are being a selfish bitch, Quinn Fabray! You sit there simpering about how nobody loves you –," "Whimpering," Santana mouthed to Quinn, " and you act like you don't know whose fault that is!"
"As always, Rachel Berry," Quinn muttered bitterly, "what else is –"
"Oh my god, Quinn, shut the fuck up. I'm supposed to be the stupid one." Santana's mouth was parted in surprise, still unable to handle the sudden whirlwind that was Brittany S. Pierce. "Finn loved you so much he tried to get back together with you after you had his best friend's baby. If that's not more love than someone deserves in a lifetime, I don't know what is. And you still tried to use him to play the popularity card."
Quinn was flushing a mottled pink, and she looked to Santana for support. But the head bitch in charge was getting a little tired of not being the one to dish it out, and she spoke up. "And didn't Puck tell you he loved you right after Beth was born? How come that didn't count for shit?
Fiddling with the downy comforter that the hotel had provided in puke green, Quinn avoided her gaze and softly said "How do you even know about that?"
Santana scoffed. "Puck's my boy. And he didn't have many other people to talk to, in case you didn't notice. Not his baby mama, not his best friend…you made damn sure of that."
"And Puck tried so hard!" Brittany cried, getting herself worked up again. "The bake sale and the song and everything! And you barely unknowledged him!"
"Acknowledged, sweetie." "Yeah, that."
Quinn wiped her eyes and realized she was getting over the shock. Frustration at her former friends ganging up on her welled up inside, but what could she say? "You broke up with Puck for his credit score. Don't act like you're the expert on relationships," she spat out, hoping to strike a blow.
Santana laughed in her face, but it was a bitter sound. "I didn't love Puck, and he didn't love me. Fuck buddies is fun and all, but let's not pretend it was much more. Besides, I broke it off because I started to fall in love with someone else." She glanced at Brittany, and Quinn caught the secretive look between them. "Only Britt knows who."
"Only me," the blonde replied softly, smiling back at Santana. "And you know what else I know?" her voice hardening as she turned back to Quinn. "I know that Sam is probably the sweetest guy any of us have ever met, except Blaine Warbler, and you treated him like dirt." Quinn opened her mouth to protest, but Santana cut her off.
"Seriously. Boy gets down on one knee for you, gets you a damn promise ring – by the way, ew –, pulls a Bieber in public, and you cheat on him in the goddamn auditorium. Where Finn cheated on you. What a sickening little circle."
"Point is," Brittany interjected, "Rachel's not the one that makes your life a soap show. You are."
Santana raised an eyebrow at Quinn before gently asking Brittany, "Hon? Do you mean soap opera? Or shit show? 'Cause I don't blame you, both apply."
Quinn glared at Santana, but it was half-hearted. Why did they have to be right? Fuck them. Britt's supposed to make Finn look like a rocket scientist, and Santana was the male equivalent of Puck – not one particularly concerned with feelings or, you know, monogamy.
A second later, Quinn felt sick. After all Puck had done for her, she still associated him with the term "Lima Loser"? Had she learned nothing? And besides, Puck never cheated…she did.
She hear d Brittany say "I think the phrase is…shit opera. Right?"
Santana held in a peal of laughter, spotting the edges of Quinn's mouth quirk up. Oh, no. She was not done with this verbal bitchslapping.
"Listen, Fabray. Can we accept that you have, in fact, had multiple opportunities to feel love's warm caress and inevitably, you have fucked them all up?" she asked sardonically, almost feeling bad at the pain in the pale girl's eyes. But what she was going to say left no room for mercy.
Almost imperceptibly, Quinn nodded. Brittany started to soften and reach out a hand to the girl. Anger took a lot out of her. But Santana spoke again, her voice low and controlled.
"You're lucky you get to feel that kind of love. You're lucky that everyone roots for the head Cheerio and the football jock. Hell, you're even lucky that you get the chance to fuck it all up and publicly mourn it. Not everyone gets that chance."
Brittany's eyes were wide, and Quinn was looking back and forth between the two of them.
She got the feeling that Santana was struggling to get something off her chest, but she couldn't think of many reasons Brittany would be so anxious. Well, she could think of one…but that would just be…
"It's crazy, but despite the fact that I'm a Cheerio, hot as fuck, and generally kick ass and take names, I don't get the chance to love who I want, the way I want." She reached out and took Brittany's hand, steeling her resolve. "I don't get to shout from the rooftops that I love Britt. I don't even get to tell the Glee club. But…maybe I will anyways. Someday."
Stealing a glance at Brittany, Santana was relieved to find that a smile lit up her pretty face. Forgetting that she had just come out to someone, forgetting that Quinn was even there, she slid a hand up Brittany's cheek and leaned in to brush her lips against the blonde's.
Quinn was watching the scene with a detached but quiet interest. In retrospect, it's not all that surprising…but it was surprising to see the beautiful and exotic girl in front of her doubt herself or fear what others thought. Part of the territory that comes with being popular, said a snide voice in her head. She looked back to see Brittany wrap her hand around Santana's neck and give in to the kiss. Quinn smiled. She had long ago tried to shed the hateful views of her father, and seeing the two girls so happy made Quinn feel almost…inspired.
Santana broke the kiss first, a rosy flush spreading through her cheeks as she turned back to Quinn, still wrapping her arm around Brittany's waist. "So, Fabray. Do you get it? Do you see why Britt and I actually give a fuck about your whining?"
Quietly, Quinn said, "I do." Clearing her throat, she felt her voice grow stronger as she apologized for the first time in a long time. "I'm so sorry…that you don't get to share your love and be proud of a relationship healthier than any I have ever had. And… you're right. I don't think I'll be admitting it to Finchel anytime soon, because it hurts like crazy, but… I can't really blame anyone but myself. But… what can I do?" She felt a drop of wetness roll down her cheek again. Damn.
"Hey." Santana's voice was soft. "Just give it time. And give… oh God, I can't even believe I'm saying this… give Berry her space. Girl's life isn't really that awesome, if you ask me. And that is partially our fault. "
Quinn angrily wiped her eyes. "God, I know! I slapped her at prom for doing pretty much nothing and she comforted me! Ugh."
Santana snorted. "Good thing your epic New York plan was completely pathetic. Tell on them? Really, Fabray? You've lost your touch."
Quinn rolled her eyes. Sad, but true.
She looked up to see Brittany coming back through the door with a cup of ice. She hadn't noticed her slipping out, but she was singing "My cup, my cup," under her breath, and Quinn couldn't help but smile.
"This is for your face," Brittany offered. "Sorry for…"
"Pulling a Quinn?" Santana laughed. Quinn grimaced and gingerly held the ice up to her face. "It's really fine, Britt, I probably deserved it. Thanks for the ice."
"Oh no, you definitely deserved it," said Brittany, smiling sweetly down at Quinn. Had it been anyone else…Santana shot a warning gaze at Quinn, but Quinn just laughed.
"What can I say? Anyways, I appreciate you guys letting me in on your secret…but I really think you should tell the rest of Glee, at least." Brittany bounced up and down, clapping her hands, and Santana opened her mouth defensively. Quinn held up a manicured hand. "Don't worry, I'm not going to steal your thunder and out you myself. But when you guys are ready…San, you owe it to Brittany. And yourself."
Brittany cocked her head to the side. "When did you get so smart?"
The two girls stared at her. Then Santana pounced, tickling every inch of the dancer she loved so much. Quinn burst out laughing as Santana held down a shrieking Brittany, giggling herself. "You are ridiculous, Britt, you know that? Ri-fucking-diculous." The girls collapsed next to Quinn, still chuckling, and suddenly Brittany threw her arms around her.
"You're gonna be fine, Quinn. Just give it time."
Quinn smiled over Brittany's shoulder at Santana. "I know. I think I'm already getting there."