AN: I feel like I should mention that though it seems in this chapter that Quinn and Santana don't know each other, I know I said in the summary that they've met..and they have, so don't think I forgot!

Better Forgotten

1. Meeting the Blonde

"Santana? Hellooo, wake up," the hotel phone on the bedside table was singing far too close to Santana's head. She groggily snatched it up and brought it to her ear, slowing sitting up on the bed with her hair a bird's nest of knots around her head and a bad headache which throbbed even worse when she was sat upright.

"What?" she grumbled into the receiver and checked the time on the clock that was sitting beside the phone hook. 11:30 AM, plenty more time for sleep…

"We've got a cast lunch soon," Rachel chirped, far too energetic for the early morning hour. "To get to know the others, obviously I don't need to get to know you. Apparently the authors going to be there, too!"

"Great, I'll be sure to tell her how much I love the book and script," Santana said as she slid back down and nestled her head in her pillow. Maybe another half an hour. "When I've read them."

"You've not even read the script yet? I finished the book ages ago. It truly is a work of art. Anyway, get out of bed right now," Rachel snapped. A small smile crept onto Santana's lips as her eyelids fluttered shut. Even through the phone Rachel knew her so well. "It's a lunch date, Santana. We have to be there very soon."

"We?" Santana asked.

"Yes, we. I'm outside your hotel room," there was a smile in Rachel's voice and, to prove her point, there was a harsh rap at the door. "Let me in."

"Oh, God," Santana groaned and put the phone back on the hook before dragging herself off the bed and over to the door in her sleepy morning trance. She opened the door and Rachel pushed her way inside before Santana had even managed to get a good look at her, "Well…come in, then."

"Thanks," Rachel grinned as she took a seat on the armchair in the corner of the room, "You're not turning up in that. Get changed."

"Yes, boss," Santana muttered and pulled her suitcase onto her bed, struggling to unzip it when it was so close to bursting open as it was. Finally, when it was lying open on her bed she pawed through the contents and pulled out a few options that looked smart enough.

"You haven't unpacked yet? You've been here…what, two nights already?" Rachel sounded horrified. Santana frowned and looked over at what Rachel was wearing: a V-neck jumper tucked into black and white patterned shorts and black boots. She smiled and picked up a black dress with a red flower pattern on it, one of her leather jackets and her own pair of black boots. Perfectly smart casual.

When she'd brushed her hair, put on a bit of make up and was finally ready the two girls hurried out of the hotel room and took the elevator down to the lobby. It was pretty empty in there so they rushed through and out onto the streets but the calm hotel was misleading. As soon as they were outside, flashbulbs were popping and microphones were thrust in their faces.

"Miss Berry, how does it feel to be starring in the most anticipated movie of the year?" someone shouted directly into her face.

"Santana, over here!" another voice called. Santana grabbed onto Rachel's arm and pushed through the mob of paparazzi to their limo, where Rachel's driver was clearing an entrance into the car for them. When they were close enough, he popped open the door and Santana slid in, pulling Rachel in after her.

A few seconds later the car was pulling out and they were leaving the continually flashing cameras behind them. Santana sighed with relief but Rachel was looking over her shoulder in excitement.

When the car slid to a stop in front of the restaurant they'd been told was hosting the meet-up, Santana was relieved to see that the paparazzi were being held back from them this time—very organised by whoever arranged the meal. The limo driver held the door for them while they got out and then climbed back in to waste his time before he was needed again.

Rachel slipped her arm through Santana's and she observed the camera flashing increase even more, if that were possible. They ducked their heads and hurried inside the restaurant and, with a check of her phone, Santana saw they were ten minutes late. Oops.

"Hi, Rachel Berry and Santana Lopez," Rachel said to the woman dressed in her black waitress uniform that approached them with a smile. She nodded and led them to the back of the restaurant. They passed under an archway that alerted them to a change in décor: black walls, some with monochrome wallpaper and suddenly everything looked much more expensive. Also, back there the amount of people dramatically decreased.

Around the corner was a large table with a group of people sat around it chatting noisily. The waitress gestured towards it to tell them that's where they were expected and the group looked up.

"Oh, Rachel," an actor Santana recognised as Kurt Hummel said, smiling at Rachel. Santana remembered being forced to watch a movie Rachel starred in with him in it—that must be how they knew each other. "It's not like you to be late!"

"Nor you, Santana," Noah Puckerman chipped in from beside Kurt. When Santana saw him a huge grin appeared on her face and she hurried over to take the spare seat beside him before Rachel had the chance.

"I didn't know you were cast, Puck!" she cheered.

"Not originally," he said, "But when some tapes were shown to this lady here, she had them rearrange a few things."

Santana turned to see where he was directing his attention and finally noticed the blonde she was sat beside. When Santana could only stare at the girl, unable to form any words, the blonde's beam slowly faded to a look of worry. Santana blinked quickly, tearing her eyes away from the other girls face when she finally realised she'd been staring at her for an indecent amount of time. "Sorry, I'm Santana."

For a second the other girl looked surprised before a small smile worked its way back onto her face, "I know. I'm Quinn—the author."

"Oh, well thank you much for letting me bring to life your main character! I hope I can do her justice, the book is just fabulous," Santana gushed, catching Rachel's eye for a second. Rachel just shook her head at Santana: she was forever stuck in her ways.

"I'm sure you will; I've heard many people identify with the characters," Quinn smiled again and Santana made a point not to gaze at her for as long this time but man, the girl was gorgeous. She could easily be a model, why was she wasting her time writing? Though, of course, Santana still had yet to read her work… "And you're such a good actress from what I've seen."

"You've seen me in something?" Santana asked and immediately regretted her surprise, telling herself to stop feeling so flattered. Of course she had, Santana was in loads of things…it wasn't vanity—although she had plenty of that—that meant she could say she was a household name.

"Anyway," Puck interjected and reminded the girls why they were chatting in the first place, "That means I'm your favourite, right, Quinn? 'Cause you picked me."

"I helped choose the others too," Quinn reminded him, "They just didn't put you through to me until I rejected everyone else for the role."

Santana felt Quinn's eyes on her again and turned to offer her a small smile. Puck snorted under his breath and whispered to Santana, "Definitely on your team. Not responding correctly to the old Puckster Charm."

"Shut up, Puckerman," Santana grumbled back but couldn't help hoping he was right—she truly was gorgeous. But there was nothing she could do even if Quinn was gay…she was practically her boss.

Rachel got into the limo first this time, with Santana slipping in beside her and shooting her a happy look. "Well, that went well."

"Yeah, you didn't fall asleep in your food," Rachel taunted. "You got on well with the author."

"She's a sweetheart," Santana said; she was allowed to say that much without it becoming unprofessional. "I think I might actually read the book now."

"And so you should, you'll understand your character better that way. She goes through a lot," Rachel said seriously. Santana laughed lightly and batted her away. "Do you have a copy?"

"Nope."

"Here, have mine then," Rachel pulled a battered looking version of The Best Time of Your Life from her bag and placed it in Santana's hands with a sad look down at it, as if she'd miss a book, for God's sake.

"You carry a copy of it around with you? Rach, you're so sad," Santana giggled, "What's it about?"

"If I tell you that you won't read it," Rachel shook her head at the girl. Santana shrugged and looked out of the window. Rachel was probably right.

Santana flicked the bedside lamp on and pressed her pillow against the bedstead, leaning back against it and pulling the covers up over her body, dressed in her PJ's already at 8:30 PM. She opened Rachel's well thumbed copy of The Best Time of Your Life and read through the acknowledgements but unlike in most books, where they mentioned a person or two, Quinn had written:

I dedicate this book to whoever reads it,
Whoever and wherever you are, I hope that this helps you in some way.

Santana raised her eyebrows, now fully prepared for a self-help book and flipped the pages until she got to the first chapter, snuggling down to read it.

She was a few pages in by the time her phone rang and disturbed her. She put the book down and went to see who was calling but did so quite begrudgingly. The main girl—Santana's character—had already got to school and checked out some girl called Noelle Hanson who was apparently a pretty blonde. Of course, Santana was picturing Quinn. But she couldn't have written herself into the book as the love interest could she?

Perhaps if the main girl was looking at other girls that meant Quinn really was gay…no, Santana. Don't even go there.

Finally, she flipped her phone over and the screen was lit up with a picture of Quinn that Santana had taken of her at the meal, indicating that it was her who was calling. Santana smiled at the picture for a minute—Quinn looked beautiful even when protesting about having her picture taken—then accepted the call. "Why, hello. I was just re-reading your book for a bit of acting prep."

"Sounds good," Quinn sounded smug on the other end of the line. "I was just wondering if you wanted to do something. I'm at a loose end for the night."

Santana glanced at the clock again and smiled. Quinn hadn't seemed like a late-night out kind of girl but appearances could sometimes be deceiving. She felt a little guilty just thinking about leaving; she'd planned on getting at least halfway through the book tonight…but if Quinn wanted to see her, she was down with that. "Sure. Rachel, Puck and Kurt were saying how they were going to do something tonight. I can call them and invite us along, if you want?"

Quinn giggled. Santana couldn't help smiling at the sound—it sounded like innocent like a child's laugh or tinkling bells. "Partying it up with the stars. Gladly. Just tell me how to dress; I hate being under or overdressed."

"OK, I'll call Rachel then text you. Also, text me your address. I'll pick you up so you don't have to get there alone," Santana added as an after thought before dismissing the call without so much as a 'bye'—Quinn was going to have to understand how Santana functioned soon enough, she wasn't going to waste time being polite—and dialled Rachel's number. "Hey, Rach. What was it you were saying about going out tonight?"

"Oh, Puck and I were going to meet Kurt and his musician boyfriend at a club. You want to come now? You'll have to move fast, we're meeting in half an hour!" Rachel said over loud clattering noises in the background. Rachel Berry getting ready to go out was always a hectic occasion.

"OK, I'm bringing Quinn. You know, the author. Text me the details. And half an hours fine. I can be a little late."

"As ever," she laughed and knocked something else over, or so it sounded. "OK, I'll text you."

And with that, the conversation was over. Santana checked her texts and found the one from Quinn containing her address. Good, it wasn't too far from the hotel, that'd save time. Her phone buzzed again when the message from Rachel came through with where they were meeting at nine thirty. From that Santana sent Quinn a decoded text with how to dress and what time she'd be at her house with the limo.

She dropped her phone on the bed and hurriedly searched her suitcase for some suitable partying clothes. She was going to have to buy more stuff… Grabbing a pair of high waisted leopard print shorts, a black bralet, black heels and a necklace, she switched outfits in record time despite never being one to change quickly. Hurriedly, she ran a brush through her hair again, thanking her hair for behaving—it was still in the pretty waves from the day before after she'd got the initial knots out—and touched up the make up she'd rushed on for going out earlier.

She grabbed her phone, secured it in her bra and, for the second time that day, running out of the door in a hurry. It was becoming a habit. The lobby was even more deserted this time, with the only other people there being the workers chatting absently behind the desk. Speeding through, she didn't even contemplate possible paparazzi standing watch by the door—there were none, thankfully. Ready and waiting by the front doors was her limousine with the door wide open. With a smile, she jumped inside and after a few seconds the car started, taking her to Quinn's place.

When she checked her phone there was another message from Quinn.

I don't know what to wear!

But it was too late for Santana to reply now, so she put her phone away again and waited for the car to halt outside the apartment building that Quinn lived in where she jumped out and buzzed apartment 4C. When the buzzing cut out Santana tugged at the door but it still wouldn't budge. She frowned and stepped back, searching for signs of life in the windows of the massive apartment block and wondered whether to throw some rocks up at Quinn's window. It seemed like the kind of thing Quinn would like…but she didn't know which window it was. When she looked back down the blonde was making her way towards her, smiling at her through the glass of the door.

Santana stepped out of the way so she could open it and looked at the girls outfit, "You look fine, sure you couldn't decide."

Quinn glanced down at the black skater skirt and black high necked top she was wearing and shrugged, "I bet I don't look as good as you."

"Yeah…but you never could," Santana lied and linked her arm through Quinn's. When the other girl shot her a nervous glance Santana made a show of laughing so that she realised it was a joke. Quinn's face relaxed and she giggled along with her. When she helped her into the car, Santana was still glittering from Quinn's compliment.

OK so I don't know if I'm going to continue this cuz I have another 2 fanfics on the go (one of which I'm falling out with a bit) so let me know what you think and thank you for reading!