Bound:Glee Style

by EvilPanda-BrokenUnicorn

Okay, basically this is a crossover between Glee and the movie Bound, but I can't find the selection for Bound in the movie section so I'm just letting you all know this is a crossover to that. Rated M for major cussing language and some lesbian sex. Quintana Fanfiction. Smutt and one-shot.

A/N: Alright everyone, here is some major disclaimer for this story. I was watching this movie and wanted to switch the characters a bit. Instead of the regular cast of Bound, I've switched them with the Glee cast. Here are the switches.

Corky: Santana Lopez

Violet: Quinn Fabray

Caeser: Finn Hudson

Johnnie: Dave Karofsky

Geno: Russell Fabray (But he's a karofsky instead, he has no relations to Quinn in this story)

Micky: Hiram Berry

Shelly: Sam Evans

Mr. Bianchinni: Burt Hummel

Don: Kurt Hummel

Lou: Leroy Berry

Roy: Will Schuester

Woman bartender: Shannon Bieste

Woman cop: Sue Sylvester

Woman in black: Brittany Pierce

Rajeev: Rory Flanigan

MAJOR DISCLAIMER: I Own none of these characters. I don't own the movie or the show. I'm just using them as my own personal fun, sorta switch the characters with ones I see could play these parts. The movie and it's characters are owned by Andy Wachowski, Lana Wachowski. Glee and the characters I used to switch with the orignal characters from Bound are Ryan Murphy, Ian Brennan and Brad Falchuk's. So I repeat, I. OWN. NOTHING. (Except my mistakes).

A/N2: I love Bound, it's a great movie, so if you decide to watch it, good for you. It's worth watching. That's why i wrote this bc i had watched it and was like, I wonder what Santana and Quinn would be like if they played these characters. So I will stop rambling and you can read now. Enjoy.

---

There's a closet, one with double white doors, there's a huge meaning behind it (liturally).

"I had this image of you, inside of me, like a part of me," Quinn's voice was heard, as if a distant voice over as various items inside the closet come to view.

"You planned this whole thing, didn't you?" Santana's voice over.

"Where's the fucking money?" Finn's.

More items are revealed as the voices continue, clothes and shoes, hangers.

"We make our own choices, we pay our own prices," Quinn's voice says.

"All part of the buisness," Finn's says.

"All part of the buisness," Quinn's agree

"What choice?" Santana's voice.

Viewing the bottom of the closet, there are a pair of black Dr. Martens boots, tied together with rope.

"I want out," Quinn's voice over says.

Moving along the boots, there is a woman, bound by rope around her wrists, which is behind her back as she lays unconscious on the floor. More rope and a cloth is keeping her gagged, stream of red sticky liquid is rolling down her forehead. Meet, Santana.

---

Just a regular day for the woman leaning up against the wall of the elevator she's currently occupying. A very sexy looking latina, wearing rather butchy clothes. Black Dr. Martens boots, baggy work pants, a white tank top and her back leather jacket, jet black hair around her shoulders. Santana is a lesbian and doesn't care about shit.

"Wait! Hold the elevator," she hears a woman call out, making her press the "open" button as a couple step in. A middle-aged yet tall with boyish features man walks in, he's wearing a very expensive suit and sunglasses, Finn is his name.

A woman, just slightly taller then Santana, walks in after the man. She looks sexy by all means. Skin tight mini dress hugging every part of her sexy hour-glass figured body, a black leather jacket, black five inch stelittos, and her short golden blonde hair. Those hazel eyes is what had Santana captivated. Meet Quinn.

Santana knew the woman was probably someone that could have her body tingling from just one touch, even the womanly moan she heard from her side of the wall in the apartment she had just next to the couples, made her gut twist with want.

"Thanks again for this opportunity, Mr. Hummel. Goodbye," Santana said into the phone, hanging up before walking up to the wall. The sound of a bed rocking and banging against the wall can be heard clearly through out the whole damn apartment. A man's labored breathing comes to ear shot then quickly fades as he obviously finishes his buisness.

The next morning, Santana is using her drain-rod to unclog the drain of the bathtub, black gunk spluttering and flying all over the old porcaline tub. The motor is so loud that the pounding on the door can be barely heard. Sighing, Santana lets the drill go and stands. Opening the door, she's greeted by intense hazel eyes and a sexy, mouth waterng woman in a white shirt, tight jeans and ankle black high heeled boots.

"Hi, I'm Quinn, we sort of met in the elevator,"

"Yeah, sure. I'm Santana," The latina stated, holding the front door as she leaned into it.

"I heard you working in here and I was just wondering if you'd like a cup of coffee?" Quinn asked with a flirtarious smile. She held out a cup that was black, pretty much guessing how Santana liked her coffee.

"Sure, come on in and give me a second," Santana stepped aside to let the blonde in, clearly watching her round ass as she walked in. She walks into the bathroom to wash off the black gunk she achieved from the drain.

"What happend to Rory?" Quinn asked. Santana scrubs her hands the best she can, while asking,

"Who?"

"Rory, the guy who usually works on the building," Quinn asks again.

"Eh, he went home to Ireland, but as far as i know, he should be back," Santana shrugged her shoulders, wiping her hands on her overalls and walking back into the bare livingroom.

"So, this is temporary for you?" Quinn asked with a cocked brow. Santana pressed her lips together and jutted them out, eyebrows raised as she nodded in a thoughtful state.

"Pretty much. One day at a time,"

Quinn hands her the blacked coffee.

"I guessed you were straight black," Quinn's smoky sexy voice was something Santana could get use to.

"Good guess," she smirked, both sipping the hot liquid. Santana moaned at the way it burned as it settled in her stomach.

"Mmm...I needed this, thanks,"

"My pleasure," Quinn grinned, "But to be honest, I did have a slightly ulterior motive here," she stated with a tilt to her head as Santana's dark brown eyes met hers over the mug.

"I was wondering if I could ask a small favor?"

"A favor?" Santana cocked her own brow.

"Yeah, see, I'm kind of a night person, so I was wondering if it wasn't a terible inconvenience if you could wait a bit before using power tools," Quinn said in a slight pleading tone.

"Oh, i'm sorry-"

"No, it isn't your fault, the walls are just so thin," Quinn added.

"Are they really?" Santana couldn't help but to smirk.

"Yeah, it really causes problems. Sometimes it's like you're in the same room," Quinn looked down at her cup, "But if it's much too trouble, I understand-"

"No. no trouble, there's other work to do," Santana inerupted, sipping her coffee again. Quinn looked thoughtful at her.

"You're doing this all by yourself?" she asked. Santana nodded.

"That is so amazing, i'm in awe of people who can fix things, my dad was like that," Quinn said, "Whenever something was broke he would open it up, tinker with it and it would work, his hands were magic,"

She glanced at Santana's slim yet strong looking hands gripping the hot mug.

"I bet your car is like twenty years old," she said, missing the smile Santana gave.

"Truck," the latina corrected.

"Truck, of course,"

"'63 Chevy, actually," Santana nodded.

"I knew it," Quinn says with a sip before speaking again,

"So, how do you know the owner, Mr. Hummel?"

"I don't really, I was just referred to him," Santana looked down at her slowly cooling coffee as she spoke.

"Oh really," hearing the tone in Quinn's voice, Santana felt as if she revealed something.

"Do you know him?" she asked, looking up into glinting hazel eyes.

"No," she hums out, "but Finn does, he likes him, says he's a good man," She shrugged.

"Finn is your husband?" Santana asked.

"Oh no, no. I'm not the marrying kind," Quinn says, smiling without another word. The two was quiet as they drank their caffine.

"I should be going, you can drop off the cup anything," Quinn says, smile still there.

"Thanks," Santana nodded.

"My pleasure," that smoky voice purred as the sexy blonde left, Santana watching her ass sway.

Later that night, Santana drives her truck to a slightly beat down looking bar, called the water hole. Stepping out of the metal heap she grew to love, the latina made her way inside, letting the strong smell of smoke and leather fill her nose.

"Well, well," a heavy set bartender says as Santana sits on a stool, leather jacket around her shoulders.

"Been awhile, San," the bartender smiles.

"Five years, two months, sixteen days, how you doing Bieste?" Santana asks, lighting up a fresh cigarette.

"Like shit, now that we're all caught up how 'bout a drink?" Bieste offered, opening the mini frige and pulling out two Old Styles.

"Thanks," Santana smiled around the cigarette, clicking her bottle to Biestes and taking a swig.

"So, you got a job yet?" the bartender asks.

"Yeah, some plumbing, painting and shit," Santana said, taking a long drag.

Bieste laughs, "I mean a J-O-B, a real job,"

"Not for me Bieste, I'm straight and narrow, I'm just here to get laid or drunk and hopefully both," Santana smirked over her drink, getting off the stool.

"Thanks for the beer," she raised the glass.

Scanning the dark, foggy bar, she can't help but to see a woman looking closely familiar to Quinn, sitting in a booth in the back, alone. Her blonde hair contrasts against the sll black attair she's wearing, especially the leather jacket. Giving a silent smile, Santana smoothly slides in the seat across from the woman.

"Hi," she greets.

"Hello," the woman says.

"You know," Santana starts, her raspy sultry voice sounding lower then usual, "that outfit would look great on my bedroom floor,"

The woman smiles as Santana feels someone tap her shoulder, making her turn and look up at a tall, old looking blonde in a Chicago police jacket. She looks mean for someone so old.

"Hey, Brittany, what's happening here?" the woman askes.

"Nothing...yet," Santana mumbles.

"Who's this?" the cop says. Her places her hands on her hips as her coat opens to reveal the revolver on her slim belt. She squints at Santana and nodded her head.

"Wait, I know you," she states.

"I don't thank so," Santana says.

"I didn't know you were out," the cop smirks. Santana just smiles at the woman in black.

"When you get tired of Cagney and Lacey, come find me," she walks to the exit without another glance.

Later that night, Santana is back at her beat down of a home but it's still a roof over her head as she lays on her futon, a beer resting on her stomach. The sound of hard rock softly playing in the background.

---

At the empty apartment the next day, Santana is painting the ceiling, the rock music a little louder this time as she works hard. Sweat covering her face and dripping down her toned tan neck. Placing the roller back into the tray, the phone rings. Stopping, she answers it.

"Hello? Oh, hi Mr. Hummel..." she stops as she listens to him.

"Yes, everything is going fine, the tub drain is cleaned out," she announced, listening again.

"What apartment?" She looks at the main wall.

"All right, all right, I guess I could take a look," she gave a sigh, "Yeah, you're welcome, goodbye," after she hangs up, she looks at the wall again with a feeling of...curiosity.

That night, Santana knocks and after a few seconds, the door opens to reveal Quinn in a suprised state.

"Oh no, shit, I didn't know he would call you, god you must think I'm a total nuisance," she frowned.

"Not exactly," Santana smiles.

"I'm sorry, I usually would call Rory, but I didn't know what to do so

I called Mr. Hummel," Quinn seemed slightly frantic.

"He said you lost something," Santana stated.

"Yeah, come on in," Quinn steps aside and lets the latina in. Santana looks around as Quinn takes her through. She notices the masculine look it had with alot of black and gray leather.

"I was doing the dishes and when i pulled the stopped, an earring fell," Quinn told her, Santana just stares at her blankly.

"It's one of my favorites, that's why I got upset,"

A perfectly sculpted eyebrow shot up, Quinn just sighed.

"I'm sorry, look, forget it, I shouldn't have called..."

"I told Mr. H, I would take a look, is it that sink?" Santana asks. Quinn nodded.

She kneels and opens the sink cabnet, pulling out a pair of channel locks. She loosens the pressure nut.

"Do you have a pot or pucket?"

"Sure," Quinn said, handing her a pot. Santana slides it under the pipe, working her way around the metal. She can't help but to stare at the blonde, the hem of the dress she wore hugged her clearly smooth looking thighs. After releasing the tap, water gushes out into the pot and a soft "tink" was heard.

"Did you find it?" Quinn asks. Santana slips her hand into the musky looking water and pulls out the earring. Quinn squeals and smiles widely, trying not to fall as she tries to hug Santana.

"I can't believe it, you did it!" she exclaims, Santana going back under to fix the pipes.

"Thank you so much, you have to let me pay you something,"

"No, Mr. H asked me to do it, I did it," Santana shrugged, checking the watter as she turned on the faucet.

"If you won't take money then hout 'bout a drink, it's getting late and you can't work all night," Quinn offered. Santana stands and stares at her for a moment.

"Okay, one drink," Santana agreed.

"What do you want?" Quinn asked.

"A beer?" the latina said, uncertain.

"A beer, of course," Quinn giggles, turning to the bar.

"Please, sit down,"

Santana sits on a black leather couch, while Quinn returns with two bottles of Heineken. Santana sneers.

"Thanks again," Quinn smiled, clinking her glass to Santana's. Quinn cocks a brow as she takes a long drink of her beer.

"You look uncomfortable, do i make you nervous, Santana?" she asked.

"No,"

She takes a huge gulp of the alcohol.

"Thirsty, maybe," Quinn tilted her head slightly with a smile on her pink lips.

"Curious, maybe," Santana licks her lips.

"Curious? Thats funny, I'm feeling a bit curious myself right now," Quinn admitted, noticing the tattoo on Santana's tan bicep.

"That's a great tattoo," she complimented, reaching over to touch it, her touch deffiantly sending tingles down Santana's body.

"Beautiful labrys," Quinn stated, making Santana a bit suprised that she even knew what it was. She just nods, rubbing the tingling skin.

"Are you suprised that I know what that is?" Quinn asked, amused.

"Maybe,"

"I have a tattoo, would like to see it?" Quinn smirks, sliding over the leather cushions as she opens the front of her dress, Santana noticing that she isn't wear a bra but the dress did a damn good job at pushing her breasts up to make them look bigger and perfectly round.

"A woman in upstate New York did it for me," Quinn said, almost a whisper.

"Here, do you like it?" she asked, a bright pink heart with tribal markings around it was carved into the pale skin of her top breast.

"It took her all day to do it, she promised it would't hurt, but it was sore for a long time after, I couldn't even touch it," Quinn said.

Santana looked up from the marking and into dark hazel eyes.

"But now i love it, the way it feels," her voice was slightly husky, running her fingers over the scarred skin.

"Here, touch it," she grabbed Santana's warm hand and threaded her fingers between tan ones, pressing the tips against the skin. The latina felt her heart pound in her chest as she felt her face heat up.

"What are you doing?" she whispered. Quinn looks at her.

"Isn't it obvious, I'm trying to seduce you,"

"Why?" Santana sucks in a breath.

"Because I want to, I've wanted to since the first time I saw you in the elevator," Quinn's voice was now huskier then ever. Santana was trying so hard to figure this woman out, grazing her thumb over a harden nipple. Quinn inhales with a hiss, feeling the latina's eyes on her as she closes her own.

"You don't believe me but i can prove it to you," she states, grabbing Santana's wrist and sliding her hand down her body.

"You can't believe me because of what you see," she contiues, forcing Santana's hand under her dress and between her legs.

"But you can believe what you feel," Quinn opens her eyes, a smirk on her lips.

"You see, I've been thinking about you all day," Santana flexes her arm, making Quinn moan out. With one hand, she grasps a tan toned forearm.

"You planned this whole thing?" Santana states more then questions. Quinn's head is swimming, her breathing has deepened and grew harder.

"You dropped that earring down the drain on purpose, didn't you?" this time it was a question but still a statment.

"If i say yes, will you take your hand away?" Quinn pants.

"No."

"...Yes,"

Now Santana is smiling, feeling Quinn shiver and rubbing her thighs together as she thrusts up into the latina's hand.

"Please Santana, please," she whimpers, her hazel eyes hooded, "Kiss me,"

In a smooth motion, Santana grips the back of her neck and seals her lips over Quinn's in a searing kiss. Keeping her hand firmly between the blonde's legs, she lays them back as the kiss grows into something refurred to as hunger and passion. Inching her hand up further between the strong thighs, both girls barely hear the door unlock and open.

"Quinn?" Finn asks. The blonde's eyes pop open as she pushes Santana back.

"Quinn, you home?"

They pull apart, and tries to compose themselves.

"Yeah, I'm here Finn," Quinn says, watching him come around the corner of the room. He sees both figrues sitting close together and has a gut feeling.

"What's this?" he asked, almost mistaking Santana as a man, her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail.

"What the fuck is this?" he shouts, he was way tall for a guy, which sort of intimdated the latina. Quinn stands up just as he's stomping over to the couch.

"I didn't expect-"

"What the fuck is going on?"

Santana finally stands and he realizes that she isn't a man, but in fact a beautiful woman.

"Oh shit..." Finn chuckles.

"Finn, this is Santana, Santana, Finn," Quinn introduces the two.

"I'm sorry, Christ, I thought..." he smiles a dopey smile at the latina, "it's dark in here," he says and reaches for the light switch on the wall.

"Shes working for Hummel," Quinn states, stepping away with her arms behind her back. Finn holds his hand out in which Santana takes.

"Oh right, right, Kurt mentioned that to me, Hi, welcome to the family," that smile already irritating Santana as she plasters on a fake smile.

"So you're helping Rory?"

"No, he's in Ireland," Santana said.

"She's doing the work herself," Quinn said from the side.

"No shit, Hummel hired you? You know he's a good friend of mine, family really," Finn nodded.

"That's what Quinn said,"

Finn looks at her as if he knows some dark secret about her.

"So, you just got out?" he smirks.

"Jesus, Finn!" Quinn exclaimed.

"What? It ain't no big fuckin' deal, I know who Kurt hires," he looked at Santana, "Did you know he did time himself,"

Santana shakes her head.

"Thirteen fucking years, no secrets there," Finn cackles. Santana seriously does not like this guy.

"How much you do?"

"Five," she asnwers, watching him whistle.

"Not bad, what for?" he asked, like some little kid wanting to now what sex was.

"That's none of your fucking buisness, Finn," Quinn snarled. He raised his hands with a nod.

"You're right, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to," he pulls out a wad of cash," I just hope you know you're among good people here,"

Santana stares at the cash as he pulls a few hundreds off the wad.

"Come on, come on, if you take it you understand, if not then I might have to worry about you," he eyed her. Santana snatched it out of his meaty hand, making him smile.

"Good, I hate to worry, i get gas," Santana scrunched up her nose.

"I should get going," she stated, making for the door.

"What? How 'bout a drink?" he asked.

"My brushes, I have to clean my brushes, thanks though," she gave him a wave.

"Another time," Finn says. She just nods and shuts the door behind her.

Back in the empty apartment, Santana is cleaning the last of her brushes, making sure to get between the bristles. Once done, she goes to the sink and turns the tap on, only to stop and look at her left hand, the one that was firmly held in place between Quinn's legs. She brings her hand up to her face to smell her fingers only to catch her own eyes in the mirror.

"What are you doing?" she asks herself with a smug grin.

"What am I doing? I'm fucking up, that's what I'm doing," she scoffs then washes her hands.

It was way late when Santana finally got to her truck that night, slipping her tool belt and other items into the back of her truck before slipping in and shutting the door behind her. Slipping the key into the ignition, she was about to start it when the passanger side door opened and slipped in...Quinn? Santana was stunned.

"I had to see you," she says.

"Look, I don't think this is a good idea," Santana states.

"I wanted to apologize," Quinn offers.

"Don't apologize, dear god I can't stand a woman who apologizes for wanting sex,"

Quinn smiles, "I'm not apologizing for what i did," she slides across the seat, "I'm apologzing for what i didn't do,"

She kisses the latina, cupping a tan cheek. Santana wasn't resisting, a sexy woman wanted to fuck her, why would she resist. Fuck Finn.

As the windshields begin to fog up, Quinn pulls back, panting.

"Bed?" she asks, hazel eyes dark.

Santana starts the engine and squeels her tires to get home.

Both bodies are completely naked, Santana is currently on top of Quinn as she pumps her hand between slightly spread pale legs, making the blonde cry out her name in pleasure. Quinn has her hands threaded in jet black silky smooth locks, thrusting up into Santana's hand.

"San-tana," she groans, eyes screwed shut as her mouth goes slack. Santana just smirks, pressing her knee into her hand to get her fingers to slip deeper into Quinn's tight dripping pussy.

"Come on babe, scream my name, squirt all over me," She husked into a pale ear, nipping the flesh. She curled her fingers and hit a particular rough spot, making Quinn scream her name loud and jucies squirt all over her hand and up her arm.

Both finish and lay next to each other, bodies flushed against one another as they stayed still, panting only being heard in the room.

"I can see again," Santana mumbles, making Quinn smile. After awhile she gets up and grabs a canned beer from the frige, pressing it to her forehead and closing her eyes. Finally, she lets it slip down her toned body and presses it to her throbbing heated pussy, moaning at the contact.

Quinn can hear the can being open, her eyes closed, as Santana walks back to the bed and press the cool can to her lips for her to drink. Quinn tilts her head as she lets the cold beverage slide down her throat.

"I needed that," she says, opening her eyes to watch Santana take a swig, jet black hair over one shoulder.

"Tell me about it," she smirks. Handing her the beer, she sits next to her as the blonde sits up.

"Finn's Mafia, isn't he?" Santana asks.

"You had to ask?" Quinn cocked a fine brow.

"Mm, no,"

"Funny, no one calls it that anymore," Quinn chuckles, taking another drink, "Finn calls it "The buisness,""

"How'd you meet him?" Santana lays on her side, head proped up on an arm.

"They took over a club I was working at, Finn started managing it,"

"He's a Launderer?"

"Basically," Quinn nodded.

"How long you been with him?"

"Five years," Quinn sighs, looking off.

"Five years is a long time," Santana stated, looking up at the beauty.

"Yes, it is,"

Santana knows exacty what the woman is thinking.

"The redistribution of wealth," she says, laying on her back and resting her arms behind her head.

"What?" Quinn looks down at her.

"Isn't that what you wanted to know? What i did time for?" She looked up into hazel eyes.

"The redistribution of wealth?" Quinn repeats.

"That's what i tell someone when I'm trying to get them in my bed," Santana smirks.

"I'm already in your bed," Quinn states matter of factly.

"My cellmate would always say she did her time for getting caught, she was always more honest then me," the latina woman scoffs, taking the beer from Quinn and drinking it.

"I started stealing when i was little, we were piss-poor, which is not an excuse, just a fact," Santana added, kinda wondering where this was coming from considering she never really talks about her past with someone she just met.

"The first time I remember so vividly. A bunch of us kids were at Schuester's Drugstore, when Mr. Schuester, who was a mean old prick, always worrying about us robbing him, dropped a roll of quarters," she can still hear the coins hit the floor.

"I can still hear that sound, those quarters, because right then something clicked inside of me, some istinct took over and as everyone, including Mr. Schuester, dove, i reached up and emptied the register," Santana was staring at her ceiling, Quinn smiled at her. She really liked her.

"I gave the money to my mom, told her i found it at the trainyard, she was so happy she cried, telling me I was her lucky charm, fifteen years later, that luck ran out," Santana shrugged, swallowing back the beer and handing it back to the blonde.

"Sometimes i tell myself it was surviving, and that i didn't have no choice to do it, i knew it was bullshit but its what i was good at, really good at," She turns to look at the blonde, who was looking at her.

"I usually don't talk about my past like this, I guess i have been rehabilitated," Santana says.

"You didnt have to tell me if you didn't want to," Quinn giggles. Santana leans up to get her face closer to the blonde's.

"I guess i wanted to," she sighs.

"I'm glad you did,"

"Me too," she said before kissing the blonde senseless.

---

Santana slips her tool belt on the next day, grinning like a fool who just got laid the night before. She was ready to work.

Once she's in the lobby, she sees a very overly dressed man looking nervous as he talks to someone through the intercom.

"I know he's gone, please, I have to talk to you," he says. Fiddling with her keys, Santana recognizes the voice that comes back through.

"What do you want, Sam," Quinn says. Sam glances over his shoulder at Santana and answers in a low hushed voice.

"I have to leave tonight," the intercom was silent for awhile till the door buzzes and he pushes inside, Santana following him.

They stand in the elevator together, Santana glaring at the man as he hides behind his sunglasses. Once the doors open, he rushes out. She watches him enter Finn's apartment, her smile lost in her anger.

Later that day, she can hear that unmistakeble moans of one, Quinn. Feeling the regret and hurt, she abandons her paint brush.

Same day, Santana watches as Quinn closes her eyes and arches her back, moaning out for what seemed like the millionth time that day to Santana as her orgasim hit her and made her body feel like jelly as she flopped on the bed next to the latina.

"I had this image of you, inside of me," Quinn says

"Like apart of me,"

She opens her eyes just as Santana gets up.

"You are so beautiful,"

Santana doesn't answer as she gets dressed, her jeans pulled on as she slipped her red flannel shirt around her shoulders but keeps it unbuttoned. Quinn can tell somethings wrong.

"Whats the matter?" She asked.

"Nothing," Santana is seething. Quinn pulls the blanket around her body.

"Yes there is, I felt it this mornig when I brought you the coffee,"

"Shit, here we go," Santana spat.

"You didn't want to see me, did you?"

"If theres one thing i can't stand about sleeping with women, it's all the fucking mind reading," Santana growled.

"What are you afraid of?" Quinn tilts her head in that cute way Santana loves.

"I'm not afraid of anything," Santana stated with a bitter smile.

"I don't understand-"

"I know! You can't understand, because we're different, Quinn, We're different," her voice got softer at the end.

"We're not that different Santana," Quinn deffended.

"How can you sit in my bed, and say that?" Santana was getting angry.

"Because it's the truth," the blonde said it like it was the simplest thing on the earth.

"Let me guess," Santana chuckled humorously, "This is where you tell me that what matters is on the inside, that inside you, there is a little dyke just like me?"

"Oh no, she's nothing like you, she's smarter then you," Quinn smirked.

"Is that what her daddy tells her?" Santana snarls.

"I know what I am, I don't need to have it tattooed on my shoulder," Quinn snapped back.

"What are you saying, that you don't have sex with men?" Santana said, cocking a brow.

"I don't," Quinn stated.

"For fuck's sakes, Quinn! I heard you! Thin walls, remember?" Santana raised her hand in a "duh" motion.

"What you heard wasn't sex," Quinn said, her face completely solid and straight.

"What the fuck was it then?" Santana said through gritted teeth.

"All my life, everyone has been telling me that when I have sex, I'm not really having sex, not real sex," Quinn's face stayed straight and poised.

"But they're wrong, i know what is and isn't sex, and what you heard was definitely not sex,"

"What was it then?" Santana's patients was wearing thin.

"Work," Quinn said. This knocked the latina back.

"You made certain choice in your life that you paid for, you said you made them because you were good at it and it was easy, Do you think you're the only one that's good at something?" Quinn asked, sraight face but her stare lituarlly pins Santana to the wall.

"We make our own choices and we pay our own prices, I think we're more alike then you want to admit,"

"What about that guy this morning?" Santana asked.

"You mean, Sam?"

"Don't tell me, you're a workaholic?"

"No, Sam knows what I am, He saw me with another woman at a bar,"

"I suppose he just wants to watch," Santana smirked.

"Fuck it! I think you better leave," Quinn snaps again.

"I think so too," Santana turns, buttoning up her shirt.

"Try not to steal anything on the way out," Quinn says as she turns away. This hurt Santana more but she still walks out.

---

The next day, Santana is laying on her back at the empty apartment, fixing the pipes under the sink. She pulls away and yank on it, hearing voices from the apartment next door.

"Shut the fuck up! You piece of shit!" she hears a scream after.

"Your're going to tell us! You're going to fuckin' tell us ! Just a matter of fuckin's time!" the voice yells, each words are heard with a thud and grunts.

In the room next to the bathroom Santana is in, there are a few men.

"Did that hurt? News flash Fucko, I'm just getting started," the voice is coming from a man named, Dave Karofsky. Sam is kneeling over the toilet as his hands are bound behind his back with electircal wire. Finn and two other men are crammed in the small bathroom with him.

"You got nerve trying to fuck us! Nobody fucks us! Nobody fucks my father! Nobody! Nobody!" Dave yelled, slamming Sam's face into the toilet.

"Whoa, whoa, come on, he's making too much noise," Finn says.

"You hear that, bitch? Be quiet!" Dave yelled.

"Here, put this in his mouth," Finn said, handing him a towel. Dave jams it in Sams mouth.

Quinn is in the other room, trying to blend ice to keep from hearing the noise but still can faintly hear yelling as Finn comes out of the room.

"Finn, I'm leaving," she told him/

"What? Oh, come on, I didn't use one of the good towels," Finn smiled. The door opening again as someone steps out.

"Finn, I'm serious, this is too much, I have to get out of here," Quinn said.

"Becasue you know him?"

Quinn nodded.

"You women are so fucking sensitive," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"But i like you here, you know this isn't easy for me either," He says, she looks over his shoulder and sees Hiram Berry, a older man with graying hair and built like a fire-plug. He looked good in his Brooks Brothers suit.

"Now, go watch some tv or something," Finn said, pulling away.

"Are you okay, Quinn?" Hiram asked.

"Hiram, why is Dave here, you know how i feel about that fucking psycho," Finn states. But Hiram is looking at Quinn, who has big doe eyes at the moment.

"Finn, didn't I tell you to get something?" Hiram scolded.

"Sure, Hiram, sure," he says and makes his way into the kitchen. Hiram walked to Quinn and lifted her chin like a father would to his baby girl.

"You shouldn't have to see this, why don't you go, take a walk," Hiram smiled.

"Finn wants me to stay," Quinn looked away.

"Don't worry about Finn, i'll take care of Finn, just get out of here, okay?" He looked down at her, making her smile fondly.

"Thanks Hiram,"

Finn returns with a pair of tin snips, Hiram takes them.

"Thanks Finn, now lets end this," they both re-enter the bathroom, letting Quinn escape.

In the bathroom, Hiram takes his jacket off and hands it to a smaller man, Leroy. He slaps Dave on the back.

"Enough Dave," he says.

"Prick," Dave said with one last kick to Sam. Hiram kneels down and looks at Leroy for him to pick up Sam's bound hands, he places the snips on his pinky finger.

"Ten times Sam, thats all I will ask, now, where is the money?"

Getting no answer, Hiram cuts off the pinky finger.

Back where Santana was, she couldn't take it anymore. Throwing her tools down, she walks into the main room to find...Quinn there. Santana watches her as she trembles and avoid her eyes, knowing she wants to say something.

"Quinn, are you alright?" she asks. Quinn shakes her head. Santana just puts an arm around her shoulders and pulls her into her body.

"Come on, let's go,"

At the bar, Santana orders their drinks from a bartender. She sends the men a deathly glare as she wals back over to Quinn, still being able to hear their snickers. If Quinn wasn't there, she would of simply busted their nuts.

"Sam was skimming from the business, he came to see me yesterday because he was afraid Finn figured it out, he wanted me to run with him,"

"Even though he knew about you?" Santana asked. Quinn nodded.

"He was in love with you, right?"

"That's what he told himself, but it wasn't even about me, it was about Finn, he wanted what Finn had, thats what they are like, I understand them," Quinn glanced around and caught a man smiling at her from the bar.

"For Sam, taking the money was a way to take from Finn, he could have run at any time, but he didn't because he didn't want out,"

"Sounds like he wanted to get caught," Santana stated.

"Maybe he did, he would brag to me all the time, he was never afraid of Finn because he didn't know him, not like i do," Quinn said.

"Finn lives for these moments, he tells me it's just the buisness but i know it's more then that. He likes the violence, they're all like that, well maybe not Hiram,"

"Hiram?" Santana asked.

"He's part of the buisness that they pretend to be, but Hiram doesn't like it like they do, tha's why he's so good at it," Quinn looks down at her glass.

"I was able to block it out, but noe i can't," she downed her drink.

I've been making the same mistake Sam made, but now i want out," She looked at Santana.

"I want out, a new life and i see what i want now, but i need you Santana,"

"For what?"

"You made a choice once, Do you think you would be take that same choice again?" Quinn asked, a hand resting on Santana's thigh.

"What choice?" the latina furrowed her brows.

"If those quarters fell to the floor, would you still reach up to that register?"

Santana stared at her, knowing exactly what Quinn was hinting at.

"Not here," she whisperes.

Their sitting in her truck, under a street light, the windows are rolled up as the spoke.

"Finn is going to get the money and bring-"

"How much money?" Santana asks.

"Sam said it was over two million dollars," Quinn stated, it starting rainng.

"Finn will bring it to the apartment to count and go through Sam's books to figure out how he did it,"

"Wait a minute, wait a minute, do you have any idea what you are saying?" Santana asked, looking at Quinn with disbelief, "You are asking me to help you fuck the mob,"

Quinn just nods.

"These people are serious Quinn, if you want to know how serious ask Sam, they arn't the cops, they have money and no rules, so if you fuck them you have to do it right,"

"Thats why i need your help, you did say you were good," Quinn cocked a brow.

"I am, but..." Santana narrowed her eyes, Quinn was fucking challenging her.

"All right, let's say for the moment that I believe you," Santana started

"You think i'm lying?" Quinn asked.

"I didnt say that, but since you did, let's say that you are and it would be easy for you to set Sam up and get him killed, thus Finn having no choice then to bring the money to the apartment,"

Quinn stared at her with that damn straight face.

"All you would need to keep yourself clean would be someone unconnected, someone like, i dont know, me," Santana flexed her eyebrow up.

"Is that what you think?" Quinn's voice sounded small.

"I'm just making a point, you have no idea what you're asking, how much trust people need to do something like this," she moved closer to Quinn, as the rain pounded on the truck.

"For me, stealing is a lot like sex, two people that want the same thing, sit in a room and they talk, they start to make a plan and it's like flirting, a kind of foreplay, because the more they talk about it the wetter they get," she stops for a moment, thinking carefully.

"The difference is, I can have sex with someone i just met, someone i hardly know, but to steal i need to know someone like i know myself,"

"Do you think you know me like that?" Quinn asked.

"I think..." Santana mumbles, lips grazing Quinns.

"We're going to find out," she pulled back, "but first, i want to see the money,"

Back at Finn's apartment that night, Quinn springs from the couch as Finn rushes in, his tall body doubled over as he carries something. He dumps the bundle into the sink and Quinn can see blood all over his dress shirt, its everywhere. She's speechless because she has no idea what to do.

"Oh my god..."

"It's not mine," Finn says, grabbing the whiskey from the cubard and pouring a glass.

"Finn, what happend?" she asked.

"It was unbelieveable! Un-fucking-believeable!" he shoots the whole drink back before making another.

"Fuck, look at this shirt, it's ruined," he began to unbutton it.

"It started when Sam took us to the money. I tell you, Hiram Berry knows his shit, he does. Sam takes us right there," he guzzles down another shot before making another.

"So Sam's down on his knees and he's pulling out this bag of money from a safe in the floor and I'm staring at it like "holy fuck!" I mean, look at it-" he opens the bloody bag and the money, all two million of it, falls out, wet.

"And all I can think is how the fuck did he do this when - Bang! Dave caps him. Blood sprays everywhere, all over the money. We've no idea if this is even all of it," Finn chuckles, scratching his head.

"And right then I go through the roof and - Boom! I belt the dumb fuck as hard as I can. I didn't care whose son he was, I just wanted to hit him again. Knock some sense into that dumb son of a bitch," he sighs, looking at the bloody wet money.

"Just look at this mess I got to deal with,"

"What are you going to do with it?" Quinn asked.

"I told them to run it through the cycles. But I guess Russell has plans for it because he's coming here tomorrow night to pick this shit up," Finn says, looking through the sink cabnets, not finding what he was looking for.

"Where the hell's the laundry detergent?"

"Ummm ... in the linen closet," Quinn's eyes are on the money as Finn leaves the room. Santana comes out of no where, placing her hands on Quinn's hips.

"Come to my place, early morning," Quinn just nods.

Back in the closet, Santana's hands twitch, softly pulling at the ropes that are tying them together. She feels something in her body spasm and makes her jerk, trying to get away from whatever shes running from in her dream. She want's to wake up but quickly slips back into unconsciousness, her eyes rolling in the back of her head. An over voice is heard,

"You're having second thoughts," It's Quinns.

Back in Santana's apartment, she's at her window as Quinn sits on her bed.

"...no," she taps her chin then turns back to the blonde.

"You said he washed the money?"

"Yeah"

"Then what? Exactly"

Quinn looks off again,

"He hung it up,"

"What?"

"To let it dry," looking back up at the latina.

"It was unreal..." she looked back off, thinking back before she went to Santana's.

(The night before at Finn's apartment)

Money was clipped everywhere, to lines of string all over the condo. Quinn sat amungst them, looking at the crazieness her boyfriend had created. Finn was in a undershirt, ironing each bill carefully, keeping an eye on Quinn and his work at the same time.

"Then one by one, he ironed them all," Quinn's voice over was heard as the flashback continued. Finn spraying starch on each bill as he ironed them.

"Did he sleep?" Santana's voice over. Back in the flashback, Quinn was in bed, not able to sleep from the sound of the money counter.

"No, and neither did I, all night long I listened to that sound,"

her voice over said. The flash back showing Finn in his office, placing a wad of dry cash in the money counter, that fluttering sound louder now.

"What sound?" Santana asked.

"The sound of money"

(Flash back ends and thier back at Santana's apartment)

"And where is it now?" she asked

"In his office, I saw it this morning," Quinn stated.

"It's in a case, on his desk," she said again.

"Does it lock?" Santana asked, twirling a tiny metal rod in her hand, she does this when she's either nervous or planning.

"Yes," Quinn says, in thought.

"Good," Santana drawls out, she's been pacing back and forth in front of Quinn.

"Okay, now tell me about Dave,"

"Dave?"

"It sounded like he and Finn don't like each other,"

Quinn snorted.

"Like each other? They hate each other,"

"Why?"

"It started way before I was around. I think basically it's because he thinks Dave is a complete idiot. But Dave runs Chicago because Russlle is his father,"

"Who's Russell?" Santana asked. Quinn swallows, feeling like she's said too much.

"Russell Karofsky,"

"Karofsky? As in Paul Karofsky, head of the Karofsky family?" Santana couldn't believe her ears.

"That's his brother," Quinn nodded.

"...shit," Santana places her hand over her mouth, thinking.

"Russell Karofsky is coming tonight to pick up the money?"

"Yeah,"

"And Dave is his son, that's Dave Karofsky?"

"Yeah,"

"Sweet jesus," Santana sighs, pacing as she bites her lower lip. Finally stopping, she looks at Quinn, who's looking very adorable sitting on her bed, hands resting on her knees as she looks at Santana expectingly.

"It's perfect," she starts pacing again.

"Russell Karofsky is coming to your apartment, it's a big deal, isn't it? That means Finn will be ready, he doesn't want to look like an idiot, Russell has been there before?"

"Yeah, twice," Quinn nods.

"What happend?"

"Not much really, Finn was nervous, kept cleaning the apartment. The first time, he picked out the dress he wanted me to wear,"

Santana taps the tiny rod against her chin then her eyes widen slightly.

"Does Dave hit on you?"

"He hits on anything in high heels," Quinn scoffed.

"Has Finn ever seen him?"

"He does it right in front of him,"

"It just keeps getting better and better. Keep going," Santana starts to pace as Quinn continues.

"Russell doesn't know English, or at least he pretends he doesn't, so he doesn't talk much. He gets right to the point. Both times they talked for about five minutes, had one drink and then they left,"

"What did Russell drink?"

"Scotch, Glenlivet, I remember because Finn made a huge deal about it,"

Santana smiles, more like smirks.

"All right..." she says, sitting next to Quinn on the bed, "This can work, i have an idea as to how,"

At Finn's apartment, its later that day and Quinn was getting ready. Using a a lip-pencil to line the edge of her lips.

"You'll go back, get ready, take your time. make it real," Santana's voice over starts.

Quinn is taking her time on her make-up, the several discarded dresses on her bed behind her.

"The more attractive you are, the more believeable it will be,"

Back to Santana's apartment, she furrows her brows as her thoughts get scattered.

"What time did you say they would be there?"

"The plane is in at seven, So i'd say about eight," Quinn stated.

"Any bodyguards?"

"Russell travels with a big man named Will, Finn calls him the driver,"

"Fine," Santana nods.

At Finn's apartment again, he checks his watch.

"So, at some point, Finn is going to quit, I'd guess sometime around six, making sure he's got time to get ready," Santana's over voice begins.

In the living room, Quinn is in a very sexy, body hugging, dress and high heels.

"Un-fucking-believable, what this guy did. Sam is one smart-ass mothefucker, I mean, he was one smart-ass motherfucker," Finn raves with a smile, Quinn handing him a drink.

"As soon as he's done, you'll be there to put a drink in his hand,"

Finn takes a drink, groaning at the burning sensation it gives him.

"We want him to calm down, to relax, feel in control again," Santana's over voice.

"Poor boy, has to work so hard," Quinn cooed. Finn loves when she gives him the sympathy, it makes him feel like he's what makes Quinn breathing. Sliding his hands down, Finn grips Quinn's round firm ass, licking her collar bone.

"Mmm, you look good enough to eat,"

Quinn closes her ees, knowing whats to come.

Back at Santana's apartment, both women can just taste the way the night will go out.

"Where will you be?" Quinn asks.

"In the apartment next door,"

At the empty apartment, Finn's getting ready at his own apartment as Santana sits on the floor.

"Waiting for what?" Quinn's over voice.

The shower starts next door from her.

"The shower, that will be our signal," Santana says.

Santana slips in a few needle-thin lick picks in her pierced ear, making them look like earrings.

"When he's done with the shower, you will go to the bar,"

Behind the bar, Quinn grabs the bottle of Glenlivet and as if everything is in slow motion, she lets it slip from her hands.

"An accident, the bottle when slip from your hand like an accident," Santana's voice over says.

"Oh shit, shit!" Quinn says, franticly as she tries to clean the mess up.

"What happend?" Finn asks from the bathroom, hair dripping wet as he tries to dry himself. Santana can hear Finn from the other side so she gets up and walks to the door.

"Q! What the fuck was that!? Quinn?" Finn yelled. He walke into the living room, towel wrapped around his body.

"Q, what? You can't hear me?" he demands. Quinn looks upset, trying to clean the mess.

"Finn, it slipped...I was trying to get ready..." she says. Finn looked at the broken bottle.

"Fuck, you have got to be kidding me!" he shouts.

"Fuck! Fuck! How did you...awww Fuck!"

"I'm sorry, it was an accident," Quinn stands, looking determended.

"Don't worry, I'll go get more,"

"There's no time," Finn whined.

"Don't be silly, Finn. It'll take five minutes," she rolled her eyes as she pushed him back towards the bedroom.

"I'll clean this up and be back before you're even dressed," once he's gone, she walks to the door and opens it, finding Santana there.

"When you open the door, I'll be there," Santana's over voice says. They keep eye contact as Quinn walks out of the apartment just as Santana walks in.

"What if he sees you?"

"He won't,"

Finn is tryin ghis best to get his hair a certain, he wants to make sure he looks perfect, just like the other two times Russell came. While he fixes his shirt, Santana struts through the living room like she was invited, going straight to Finn's office with out the man seeing her.

Back at Santana's apartment, she's digging through her tool buckets, looking from something.

"You can't know for certain that he wont see you," Quinn argued.

"Trust me, Quinn,"

She finds a black duffle bag and sets it on the bed next to Quinn.

"I'm just asking, what if?"

"If he does..." Santana sighes, digging under the bed then pulled out a gun and set it on top of the duffle.

"Then i won't have a choice, will I?"

At Finn's, Santana walks behind the black case and drops down behind it, just as Finn walks past his office.

"When I'm inside, I will get the money," Santana's over voice states.

She pulls out the right pick from her ear and goes to work at unlocking the case, seconds later and it pops open. But just as she's about to unlock the second one, Finn walks in. His tall figure in a pair of boxer briefs, he looked slightly fit but no muscles showed and he was bald, no hair on his body except his head, how could Quinn date a guy like this, he looked like a boy.

Once he chooses a suit, he leaves and Santana goes back to unlocking the case, quickly dropping brick like cash loads into the duffle bag once it's unlocked.

"I'm gonna need something to fill the case back up with," Santana's over voice is heard as her present self looks around the office and spots a few big stacks of news paper next to the desk.

"Yeah, yo should hite it near the desk before you leave,"

She shuts the locks and letting the rather loud clicks fill the air, sighing when she hears soft rock music playing.

"At that point..."

Their sitting on Santana's be, both looking at each other.

"...theres no turning back," she says.

"When I get the Scotch, how do I know you won't take off?" Quinn asked.

"The same way I'll know you went to go get the Scotch, Trust," Santana smiled, leaning her head in, eyes searching the blondes.

"I still don't see how i'm going to get clean with the money in the apartment, everyone will think I did it," Quinn sighed.

"Not Finn,"

"Why?"

"Because of what you are going to tell him. You have to make it as real as you can. The moment you open the door with the Scotch in your hand, you will be covered, and that moment is the most important moment in the plan," Santana tilts her head down, smile in place.

Quinn rushed into the apartment, brown paper bag in her arms.

"If it's real enough, he'll believe it, because deep down, he'll want to," Santana's voice is heard.

"Finn! Shit, i'm sorry!" Quinn exclaims just as Finn enters, fixing his tie as she looks at her watch.

"They were early,"

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"They just left, didn't they?"

"That are you, drunk?" he grins, grabbing the bottle from her hands.

"You mean they weren't up here?"

"No! They're still on thier way,"

"That doesn't make any sense," Quinn mumbles.

"Why?"

"Because I just saw Dave downstairs," she watches Finn turn.

"What?"

"I was getting out of my car when I saw him in the Mercedes,"

"It couldn't have been," Finn states.

"It was him, I'm positive,"

"It's impossible!" Finn yells.

"Finn, I know Dave. It was him. I screamed when I saw him. I couldn't believe I missed them. I knew you

were going to be upset so I thought I'd apologize and give Russell the Scotch. I honked a couple of times

but he didn't stop." Quinn said, watching him as he takes in her words.

"But Russell's plane doesn't land for another half-hour," Finn breathed out, sweat dripping from his forehead. Quinn thinks for a second.

"Actually, I didn't see Russell in the car,"

Finn looks at the office, before running to it.

Back at Santana's apartment, Quinn is staring at the latina's mouth as she speaks.

"If Finn hates Dave like you say, then the second he opens the case he'll know, in his gut, that Dave just fucked him. He'll realize that he has no choice. He can't touch Russell or Dave. There's only one way out," Santana smiles.

"He'll have to run,"

"If he runs, everyone will think he took the money,"

Santana nods, "You'll be clean and we'll be rich,"

"Jesus, that's beautiful," Quinn sighes out.

"Thank you,"

"If you're this fucking smart, how'd you get caught?"

Santana huffed out a breath.

"Every job like this has moments where things don't go so well and everyone starts thinking bout their own ass, it's in those moments that everything comes together or falls apart," she looks straight into Quinn's eyes, licking her lips.

"I had a partner who fucked me,"

"I won't,"

"I think we're going to find out,"

Finn opens the case, heart thudding in his throat as he sees that the money isn't there, his head begins to spin.

"Finn?" Quinn asked.

"No, no, no, no..."

"Oh god..."

He slams the case shut and looks at her.

"I've been set up," his voice is calm, too calm.

"Dave?"

The name alone sent the man into a fit of rage as he beat his desk and kicked over his chair.

"That fucking rat faced, fuck-fuck! mother fucking sleeze bag bastard!"

Santana can hear him in the other room, smiling down at the bag of cash between her legs.

"Why? Why would Dave do this?"

"Fuck! Open your fucking eyes Quinn, Dave hates me like I hate him," Finn yelled, face red.

"But you know he took it,"

"So what?! So fucking what? Use your head, Quinn. The money is gone. Russell is coming here to get it. You think he's going to believe me if I tell him his piss-hole son stole it! Is that what you think? I don't. You know what I think? I think I'm a dead man. I'm one in the brain. That's what I think!" Finn was furious.

"Finn, what are we going to do?"

"I know what he wants me to do. He wants me out of here. He wants me to run," Finn chuckled.

Quinn watches him talk to himself, his body trembling with rage. She has to hold back a smirk as he goes to the window and saying something like how Dave is laughing at him. She tries to touch his arm but he glares at her.

"Leave! Now!" he demands.

"All right Finn," she sighes and leaves, going into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Quinn picks up the phone and quickly dials out a number she grew to remember for just that night. As the phone rings, on the other side of the wall, Santana stares at the ringing phone before picking it up.

"It's me," Quinn says.

"What happend?"

"He totally freaked, I've never seen him like this, he's out of his fucking mind,"

"That's okay, as long as he believe's Dave did it," Santana states, eyes on the money.

"Believe it?! Fuck, it's driving him crazy, je wants to kill him. I don't know Santana, I don't know what he' s going to do, I'm getting nervous, really nervous," Quinn's voice sounded slightly scared.

"It's all right Quinn, all we got to do is wait it out and see what he will do, It's working,"

"What if he doesn't run?"

"That means he will probably kill Dave,"

"Oh fuck, i have got to get out of here!"

"Listen, if he doesn't run, all you have to do is break down and go to your bedroom and pack some things, start to cry and tell him you love him and you can't do this anymore, just say your sorry and walk out," Santana said.

Quinn is nodding her head as she lets Santana's words sink in.

"Okay, all right,"

"We're all most there, Quinn, just hang on," she loved Santana's voice, it soothed her. She gasped when she heard Finn coming.

"He's coming..." she says before hunging up just as he walks in.

"I got it, all I have to do is get the money back," Finn smiles.

"How are you gonna do that, the money's gone," Quinn furrowed her brows.

"No, Dave has it, he had to go get Russell so he didn't have time to hide it," Finn chuckles, "I bet he has it in the car,"

Santana presses her ear to the and listens.

"Dave didn't see you, right?" Finn begins to pace, hand on his hairless chin.

"No,"

"See, he doesn't know that I know, that's why he filled the case with the newspaper, he want's me to hand the case to Russell, then there's no doubt It was me," Finn points a finger, still pacing, "Russell will put a bullet in me for sure, but i wont let that happen, not to me, Dave will not fuck me over, not like this," he looked crazed.

"This is insane!" Quinn shouts, going to the closet.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm sorry Finn but i'm leaving, I can't do this anymore, this is insane," Quinn shakes her head, packing her clothes into a briefcase.

"You can't leave,"

"The hell i can't!" she sneers, pulling out her dresses and shoes.

"I need you..." Finn says softly.

"Bullshit, you don't need me, you never did, I don't want to be invovled anymore, I want out,"

"Quinn, I won't let you leave," he states. She turns only to see a gun in his hand.

"If you're not with me, Quinn, I have to guess you're against me," he said, Quinn eyeing the gun.

""Finn, this is crazy,"

"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't, maybe you dropped the Scotch by accident, maybe you didn't," he narrows his eyes. Quinn feels her head start to spin.

"It would have been easy to let him slip in as you slip out,"

"You don't, Finn you can't believe that,"

"I've seen the way he looks at you, he's always wanted you, maybe two million has bought you,"

The slap was heard through out both apartments, making Santana smile.

"I'm sorry Quinn, but it has to be this way," he tells her, grabbing the dresses and taking them back to the closet.

"I hope you understand, I want to trust you, I want to blieve you, but I can't, theres no other choice," he shuts the closet.

Finn is at the bar, drinking a Scotch as he looks at Quinn.

"Sure you don't want a drink?"

She says nothing.

Santana is sitting down, eyes on the floor as she lets her mind wonder, trying to form another plan as she twists the tiny metal rod in her hands. The busser makes her jump.

Quinn stands once the buzzer goes off, catching Finn's cold eyes as he stares at her before placing the gun in his belt behind his back.

Santana stands and looks through the peep hole just in time to see three men walk by.

Finn is there at the door, opening it to reveal Russell, Dave and Will. Dave walks in after his father and hugs Finn.

"You dhouldn't have hit me," he hisses through a fake smile.

"Do you wanna get into this now, Dave?" Finn says back.

"No, not now Finn," he pats his back beore moving awy and throwing a fake punch, both men laughing humorously. Finn turns just in time to see Russell smiling bright at Quinn, flattering her.

"Hey, Finn! You take care of this girl or I find out!" he says in that booming voice.

"Looking radient as ever, Quinn," Dave winks, beanding down to kiss her hand, Quinn catches Finn watching them.

Santana paces back and forth, her boots seeming soundless from extra practice at sneaking around, she wants to think things over more rationally this time, shit was getting harder by the minute. She glances over at the money, feeling something uncomfortable settling in the pit of her stomach at the way its showing in the open.

Finn hands Russell his Scotch, eyes on Dave and Quinn, his own catching hazel.

"No, Dave, no damn phones, not now," Russell says as he watches his son take out the phone.

"Pop?"

"Finn, come here, I need to talk to you, Dave, you too," Russell said, both men looking at the older one.

"Finn you have to respect Dave like you respect me, do this as a personal favor, eh?"

He eyes the tall man, getting a nod.

"Dave, you gotta stop being stupid, you want the respect Finn gives me then you have to earn it," Russell scolds, Dave lowering his head.

"Good, now wheres my money,"

Santana lets a stuffed ziplock back sink into a bucket of white paint, using the paint roller to push it down all the way.

Finn sets the case on the tale, glancing over at Quinn, before stepping back.

"No, we got everythign settled?" Russell asked. Finn and Dave nodded.

"It won't happen again?" they shook their heads.

"Good," Russell throws the last of his scotch back, "We go now,"

"Fucking Christ, pop your plane doesn't leave for another two hours," Dave sighed. Russell looked at his watched then cursed under his breath.

"Finn!" he holds out his glass and allows the tall man to fill it up.

"So how much did the money count too?" Dave asked.

"Two point one seventy-six," Finn says, eyeing Dave, who whistles.

"Unbelievable, can you believe that Quinn?"

"Hey, Dave...shut up!" Russell shouts.

"Come on pop, I just want to know one thing, just one after he made such a fucking big deal out of it," Dave says, "Was it, Finn?

"Whats that, Dave?"

"The money, I bet it was nothing to get clean,"

"Dave, what did I say?" Russell threatened.

"This is important to me Dad, all i want is to ask a simple question, he made such a big fucking deal, so once he answers then its the end," Dave pushed.

"Where is this going, Dave?" Finn asked.

"Just admit it Finn,"

"Admit what?"

"That you overreacted!" Dave stood and shouted, "That you lost it, not me, it was your mistake!"

Finn can see what Dave is doing, he's sees it.

"Okay Dave, you wanna play this game, fine, i'll play," Finn smirks, "Why don't you open the case and see who made a mistake,"

"Finn..."

"Shut up Quinn, this is between me and Dave," Finn states, pushing the case in front of Dave.

"You want to do this now, open the case, open the motherfucking case,"

Dave can't help but to think something is wrong as he stares at the case.

"Thats right, I know, i fucking know," Finn snarled.

"Know what?" Dave looked puzzled.

"Open the case!"

"All right! Wheres the key?"

"You don't need a key,"

"How the fuck do I open it then?"

"The same way you did before,"

"What are you talking about?"

Finn tosses him the key, evil wicked smile on his lips.

"There you go Dave," he holds out his glass to Quinn, "get me another,"

And it all happend so fast, Dave unlocked the locks, opened the case with a "What the?" and Finn whips out his gun just as Will shoots from his stool.

"Don't, do not fucking move!" Finn shouted, pointing the gun at the driver.

"Finn, what is this?" Russell asked.

"Ask your fuck face son!"

"What the fuck?" Dave said, Finn leveling his gun.

"Where is it?"

"Wheres what?"

"The fucking money!"

"Finn, I have no idea what you're talking about, but if you don't put the gun-"

Sit down!" Finn yells, Dave sits.

"Finn!"

"Russell, your son stole your money to frame me, I can prove it, Quinn!"

She didn't say anything.

"Tell them!"

"For fuck's sakes, Dave do what he says," she pleaded.

"This isn't happening," Finn shoots the chair cushion between his legs, making him scream.

"The next blow goes for the dick!"

"Enough," Russell stands, Finn points the gun at him, "You point your gun at me, do you know who I am, I am Russell Karofsky, do you understand me?"

"Sit down Russell!" Finn warns.

"No Finn, gimme the gun,"

"Stay away!"

"We are family Finn,"

"No!"

"Give me the gun,"

"No, Russell!"

"Give it to me!" the older man growled. Reaching up to grab the barrel, Finn shoots and the bullet shoots through Russell's heart. He sees' Will move and shoots him in the chest, blood flying everywhere. Dave lunges for Finn but Finn shoots all over his body and watches him fall to the ground, Dave choking on his own blood.

Santana had the phone pressed to her ear as she talks to the police.

"Its an emergency!"

Quinn is hiding behind the bar, the sound only being the "click. click. click" from Finn's empty gun. She slowly rises to see the horrid carnage. She looks at Finn as he rises and looks at her, panting.

"I had to do it Quinn, he made me do it, Dave made me kill him," he looks down at the dead mans body as rage fills his veins, he kneels down and grips Dave's expensive dress shirt.

""i'm a dead man? Look who's on the floor, drenched in blood Dave, you are the dead man you fuck face son of a bitch!" Finn barked, slamming him back onto the floor, Dave's head giving a sickening crack. Quinn can't look at him, she's too scared. He starts to dig in Dave's pockets and finds a set of keys.

"What are you doing?"

"We have to find the money, then none of this never happend," he told her, standing at his full height.

"Finn, you just killed Russell Karofsky,"

"No i didn't, for all we know he never showed, all we have to do his dispose of his body and find the money,"

"And then what?" he looked at her and smiled

"Then we are home free baby,"

Finn is currently at Dave's house, pulling on his hair as he tries to put himself in Dave's shoes to figure out where the money was.

"Where the fuck is it you cock sucking bitch!" he screams, slamming his head into the dry wall, slidding down.

"Finn, the money isn't here, lets just go while we still can," Quinn begs. Finn stands and looks around the room, finding a phone, he dials.

"Who are you calling?"

No answer as Finn waits, finally hearing a low, groggy

"Yeah?"

"Hey, Hiram,"

"Oh god," Quinn groans.

"Finn, what the fuck time is it?"

"Hiram, I know it's late but they didn't show,"

"What, they didn't show up?"

"No, I've called Dave and he isn't answering," Finn says, looking at Quinn. He hears a sigh.

"Alright, let me call around and see what I can do," Hiram says, "And Finn?"

"Yeah Hiram?"

"You still got the money?"

Finn digs his eyes into Quinns

"Yeah Hiram, I have the money,"

"Good, sit tight,"

They get back to his apartment, Finn feeling exhausted and sick as he goes to the living room, reliving it all.

"I'll go pack, you know what to do," Quinn said, pushing him towards the bathroom.

She dashes to the bedroom, closes the door and grabs the phone, it rings several times. She doesn't know If Santana left or not but she hopes and prays she hasn't.

"Please, Santana..."

She about falls off the bed in relief when that soothing voice answers.

"Thank god,"

"I'm still here,"

"I was so afraid you..."

"You don't quit on me, Quinn and I won't quit on you," Santana said.

Finn has hefty bags and rope as he looks for several other items.

"It worked Santana, he's going to run, he has to get rid of the bodies but once he's gone, it'll be over," Quinn sounds excited and that makes Santana's heart jump. It's silent for awhile, Quinn chewing on her lip.

"Santana, I have to tell you something..."

"I know Quinn, I know"

"That's why I'm still here,"

Just as she's about to say it anyways, Quinn hears Finn.

"Quinn?"

He opens the door just in time to see Quinn slam the phone down.

"Who the fuck was that?"

Quinn doesn't answer.

"Did you call Hiram, did you?"

Still nothing so he slams her on the bed, directs the the gun at her and picks up the phone, hitting redial.

Santana is startled as she picks up the phone to make sure it doesn't ring out, but says nothing as she waits. After awhile Finn breaks the silence,

"Hiram, is that you?"

Santana hangs up the phone and scurries from the wall.

Finn hits redial.

On her own mistake, Santana doesn't answer the phone when it rings again, the rings loud. She grits her teeth and grabs ahold of the cord and rips oit out.

"Who's over there, tell me!" Finn shouts at Quinn when the line goes dead. She says nothing so he grabs her shoulder and slaps her off the bed.

Upon hearing Quinn scream, Santana grabs the gun from her back belt loop and runs out of the apartment, the door slamming shut.

Finn hears it and runs to his own door, but Quinn grabs his ankle, sending him falling to the ground.

Santana is at Finn's door and quickly picking the lock. She can hear Quinn yell for her to run but she thinks to herself that she will not be a pussy and run from someone she cares deeply for. She hears Quinn scream again only to have it cut off abruptly. She continues to work, seeing a shadow from the door but she doesn't stop. Once the lock is picked and she lets the door open, she holds the gun out and slowly walks in, not noticing Finn behind her.

"Drop the gun or die!"

Santana stops.

"Fucking drop it!"

She does.

"Turn around!"

She turns and Finn chuckles.

"You? Fucking shit, you have got to be kidding me,"

With him distracted, Santana sends him a hard punch to the face, knocking him down. She bends down to grab her gun till a hard kick was felt to her face. Everything went black.

Being unconscious, Santana jerks her body as she hears faint voices around her. She tries to slip back into a sleep but ice cold water hits her face, making the blood from her split cheek to run dwn her face along with the water.

"Wake up, come you fucking dyke!" Finn yells. She opens her eyes, glareing at his stupid ugly face. She has the gag off now, still laying on the closet floor as she was in the beginning. He presses the barrel of the gun to her split cheek, making her hiss in pain.

"I know everything, now tell me and don't use that "I don't know" shit," he growls. Santana looks over and sees Quinn bound as well.

"I knew from the first time I saw you that you couldn't be trusted, queers making me fucking sick," digging the gun into her wound, she bit her lip to keep from saying anything.

"Now, where is the money?"

"Don't say anything!" Quinn shouted.

"Shut up Quinn," he pointed the gun at her. She glares at him as he points it back at the latina.

"Where is it?"

"Lick me," she sneered.

"Where the fuck is it?"

"You better either pull that mother fucking trigger or get that damn thing out of my face," Santana spat. Finn's face grew hot, he pulled the gun back and slapped her in the face with it.

"Stupid cunt!"

"Finn, stop being a fucking idiot and think," Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Don't try to tell me waht to do,"

"You and me both know we both need the money, let us go and we'll make a deal," she tried. He growled and dashed to her, gripping a head full of hair,

"Shut the fuck up!"

He looks at Santana.

"What did you do to her, she isn't my Quinn,"

Santana just stared at him.

"What did you do?"

"Everything you couldn't," Quinn said.

"Look at you, you ungrateful little slut, I gave you everything, I gave you this place, and those clothes and what do you do to repay me, you go off and find a fucking lesbian bitch to ruin everything, you are nothing with out me, I created you , I saved you!" Finn shouted.

"Ha! What a load of shit, look at yourself, you launder money from the mob, you're a fucking thug Finn!" Quinn shouted back.

"You betrayed me Quinn,"

"You murdered Russell!"

"You made me!"

"Bullshit, you killed him because you can't stand the thought of Dave fucking you over!"

Finn slapped her and got in her face.

"You want buisness, fine I'll torture you just like I tortured Sam," he stomped out of the room.

Quinn looked at Santana with sorrow.

"I'm sorry San..."

"Don't be, help me instead," the latina smile.

Finn comes back with the snipers, finding the two women back-to-back trying to untie their nots.

"Oh, no no no," he shook his head, grabbing Quinn and hoisting her over his shoulder and away from Santana. He trhew her on the bed then goes over to Santana, grabbing her boot and twisting her around so she can see Quinn. He moves over and sits on Quinn's ass, waving the snippers in front of her face.

Remember these?" he smirked. Her hazel eyes widen.

"You start first Quinn, so dyke can get a feel of whats happening," he smiles over at the latina.

"I will ask a question, each time you don't answer, I will snip off a finger," he states, stretching out Quinn's pinky finger.

"No," Santana breaths.

"When i reach ten, I'll start with you,"

She watches Quinn struggled, she sighs and opens her mouth, the buzzer saves the,

"Hiram," Finn sighs out, turns back to Santana.

"Where is the fucking money?!"

"In the apartment next door, I put them in the paint buckets," Santana grits out, seeing the sorrow in Quinn's eyes. He hears the buzzer again, knowing Hiram is buzzing other apartments, so he pulls out his gun and aims it to Santana.

"I'm done with you,"

"You can't shoot me yet," she said.

"Why?"

"I could be lying,"

He seriously hates this woman more then he's ever hated Dave. Taking a deep brath, he stares at her.

"You are gonna wish to god you hadn't done that," he snapped, kicking her as her head flys back. He runs out of the room, where Quinn looked over at the unconscious latina. A few minutes later, he comes back in, gags Santana again and stuffs her in the closet, shutting the doors after he grabbed the key and hauling Quinn over his shoulder.

Throwing her on the couch, he grabs Santana's gun and hide it in the freezer, hearing the front door knob rattle.

"He'll get in, i know Hiram," he said, pretty much to himself, grabbing Quinn again and moving to the bathroom. He drops her on the floor and turns on the shower.

"I will kill you Quinn, now if you want to live, you have to help me make Hiram believe everything is normal, do you want to live?" they make eye contact before she nods.

"Good," he says then unties her arms so she can untie her legs and pull the towel out. Finn strips naked and wets his hair, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his body before grabbing a hand towel and placing his gun under it, pressing it to his face as if drying it as he walks out of the bathroom in time to see Hiram and Leroy standing in the door way.

"Fucking hell," he jumps.

"Holy shit, Hiram, you scared me!" he gasps, seeing both men holding thier guns.

"You gonna do me Hiram, you both are holding your peckers in your hand, did I do something?"

"No Finn," Hiram smiles and puts his gun away, "There was no answer,"

"I thought I heard knocking, sorry bout that Hiram, Quinn was just helping me relax so i didn't hear anything,"

"That Quinn is one nice lady, wish I had someone to help me relax,"

"Sit, come on in Leroy, both of you sit," Finn offered, letting both men sit.

Quinn stayed in the bathroom, listening to the men talk, Finn told her to wait in there for a while, make it seem real before she would walk out. She walked over to the shower and dug into Dave's pocket, pulling out his cell, she dialed a number, hearing the house phone ring.

"You gonna answer that?" Giram had asked, she waits.

"Hello?" His voice sounded broken and frantic, she rolled her eyes.

"Hello Finn, this is Russell,"

"What?"

"You're blowing your only chance, act like i'm Russell," Quinn sighed, placing a hand on her hip.

"Holy shit, I don't believe it! We've been ging crazy over here, Russell,"

"Good boy," Quinn smirked.

"It's Russell!"

"Where the hell is he?" she hears Hiram say.

"We were in a car accident," she says, hearing Fin repeat every word she just said.

"No one was hurt,"

She hears Finn tell them then Hiram say something else.

"Now you listen to me you dumb fuck, I know you're gun is behind the phone, if you know whats good for you and you don't want me giving this phone to Hiram, you make me a deal," it was silent for a second.

"I'm listening,"

"I want whats mine, half the money, we get rid of Hiram, no one else dies, no one, say yes, I understand,"

"Yes, I understand,"

"Tell them i'm at St. Mary's off the Kennedy, in the waiting room, but stay on the phone till i come out,"

"St. Mary's Kennedy, alright Russell."

Quinn slips the phone back into her robe pocket and walks out, seeing Hiram smile at her. Finn is still on the phone.

"Sure, okay Russell," he says then hangs up.

"Hiram, what are you doing here?" Quinn asks.

"Its Russell and Dave, they've been in an accident, Quinn," he says.

"Oh god, was anyone hurt?"

"I think their fine," Hiram winks.

Santana is still unconsious in the closet, but she can hear faint voices, one being Finn's as he shouts for Quinn. She opens her eyes and tries to focus to get the blurry vivsion gone.

"Thanks Q," Hiram kisses her on the cheek.

"Call me as soon as you get him," Finn says.

"Keep the phone on the hook," Hiram says, grabbing the case with the newspaper in it. He leaves the apartment and once they hear the elevator ding, Finn turns to Quinn, smiling.

"Now that's team work,"

"I should have let him kill you," Quinn sneered.

"He would have done you too,"

"I knew I couldn't trust you,"

Finn raised the gun to her.

"Let's see if that dyke had the balls to lie," he said, yanking his pants on.

Santana thrashes around, trying to get free. Finally she kickes the closet door open and tumbles out. She looks around and spots the snippers. Crawling over the best she could, she grabs then and gets to work.

Finn walks into the empty apartment and finds the paint buckets. He rips one lid off and kicks it over, no money. He rips the next lid off then kicks it over, a big hfty bag of cash falls out with the paint.

"Yes!" he exclaimes, just as Quinn runs out, he turns to her.

"No!"

She runs down the hall, Finn hot on her trails as she opens the emergancy doors.

"Quinn!" he yells, just as she races down the stairs, Finn just a flight abover and getting closer. She jumps down the last set of stairs, thanking god she pulled off her heels when she did. She runs to the elevator and jams the button.

"Come on, come on," she hisses, hearing Finn close to her. Just as he gets to the last step, she is already in the elevator as the doors shut, they make eye contact.

"Fuck!" he screams, taking deep breaths before running back up stairs.

Quinn dials Hiram's number, waiting for him to answer.

"Hiram, oh god, Hiram!" she cried.

"Quinn?"

"Finn, he made me do it Hiram, he said he was gonna kill me if I didn't help him, please hurry, you have to help me, oh no, he's coming-oh god!" she hung up the phone, determined look and smirk on her face just as the elevator doors open. She runs back into the Finn's apartment.

"Santana?"

No answer, she goes to the room and finds empty rope and the snippers.

"Santana!" she shouts, her heart pounding.

Finn gets back to his floor and goes into the empty apartment, he sees paint but no money. There's a trail though so he follows it and finds Santana's boots there with the bag of money. But just as he goes for it, Santana is behind him and swinging a wrench at his head, but he ducks. The wrench hits the wooden door with loud splintng as she pulls away she hits his arms just in time for him to raise the gun. He cries out and lets the gun drop.

She kicks it and lets it skid through the living room. Finn takes this and body slams her to the ground but Santana fights back and lands blow after blow to his face.

"Stop!" Quinn shouts, making both look over and sees the blonde holding the gun from the freezer.

"It's over Finn, I called Hiram and he's on his way,"

Finn punches Santana and goes to Stand but Quinn aims the gun at him.

"Don't make shoot you," she threated. He crawled slowly but stops just as she takes a step.

"Do not test me Finn,"

He smiles.

"You won't shoot Q, honestly, if you wanted to shoot me you would have the day i brought the money home, but you didn't so I know you won't shoot,"

"You know shit Finn," the blonde beauty sneers before shooting the gun, the bullet hitting his shoulder and macking him fall back. She doesn't stop there, loading his body with lead till there was just the sound of clicking. She watches as his blood pools out from under him and contrasts with the pale white paint under him as he gurgles on his blood, his head turning and his body becoming limp.

The next day, Finn's apartment his empty, nothing but dust and dirt. Its been cleaned throughly.

Quinn stood next to Hiram at his Lincoln Twon car.

"I will never understand it, didn't even call the police,"

"I told you, the family doesn't want the police around. We want to take care of it ourselves and we will. I'll find him. I swear I will,"

"I know you will," Quinn smiles. Hiram looks at her thoughtfully.

"Sure you're going to be okay? I mean, if you're having second thoughts, my offer still stands," he offered again.

"Thanks, Hiram, but I need to get out, you know? Get away from all of this,"

Hiram understands and nods.

But thank you, for everything," she says, hugging him before letting him kiss her. She stepped back and let him get in his car, watching him drive away.

Santana is in her apartment, sitting on the window seal, patient as she waits. The sound of heels gets her attention as she looks and sees the blonde beauty.

"Hey,"

"Hey," Quinn says.

"How'd it go?"

"I'm here, arn't I?"

Santana nodded, standing, only a few inches away.

"We should get out of here,"

They leave the empty apartment, Santana clicking the alarm to her new bright red '98 Chevy truck. Quinn turns to her and cocks an eyebrow at her.

"We needed a getaway car," Santana shrugs. Quinn rolls her eyes and they both get inside the truck. Santana takes a second to admire her truck before catching Quinn's eyes.

"You know what's the difference between us babe?" she asked, leaning closer.

"No," Quinn leans in as well.

"Me either," Santana smirks, claiming full pink lips between her own.