Hello, my darlings! Now, while I am currently working on the next chapter of To Burn, Pine, & Perish, I've decided to give you all a little treat… A Quinntana two-shot! Yay! : )

The first chapter is written in Santana's point of view, the second in Quinn's. Enjoy!

September 2011

I traced the red rhinestones on my key to my girlfriend's house as I climbed the concrete steps to her front door. The adhesive decal was in the shape of an 'S', and I couldn't help but smile to myself at the memory of the night she gave it to me.

We'd gone to Breadsticks (for the third time that month, purely at my insistence) for a dinner date, and after our sweet elderly waitress set the bill down at the edge of the table, Quinn pulled a small navy blue gift box out of her fabric satchel. It was about the size of my palm, with a ruby red ribbon tied around it. The colors were obviously a poke at the contrast of our personalities, seeing as Quinn was demure but powerful, like the deep blue, and I was fiery and passionate, akin to the crimson.

"Pull my ribbon," she'd smirked playfully before sending me a wink and taking my hand in hers (under the table, of course. If word got out that the two HBICs of McKinley were indeed an item, the entire social order would be upset).

I pulled the loose end of the ribbon and lifted the box's lid, never breaking contact with those breathtaking hazel eyes or that soft, soothing hand. I'll admit, I'd been expecting a ring, given the fact that Quinn was as old fashioned as they come ("The Ghost of Grace Kelly", as that snot-rag Jesse St. James had once called her), and it'd been almost four months… I was surprised she hadn't made some romantic gesture of fidelity already. But when I broke our tender gaze to glimpse the box's contents, the gift was more precious than any ring could have been. It was a silver Schlage key, with a small 'S' formed with tiny red stick-on jewels. It wasn't fidelity she was giving me. It was trust, something far harder to come by.

I put the key in the lock on Quinn's deep scarlet painted door (she liked to call it "The Door to Hell"), but found that it was already unlocked.

'Of course she knew I was coming…' I chuckled slightly and pushed it open, shutting it behind me and leaving my sneakers next to the door mat.

"Quinn?"

My call to her was met with nothing but silence. Ms. Fabray was at work, so Quinn had to be at home if she'd left the door unlocked. I saw her satchel on the brown leather sofa, and her Cheerios jacket draped haphazardly across the arm. She was definitely here.

I padded up the carpeted steps in my sock feet, and was greeted with the sight of clothing strewn about the hallway. I recognized Quinn's purple Anthropologie cardigan and her matching J. Crew patent leather flats. But another sight caught me completely off guard: a pair of jeans. Lucy Quinn Fabray only has two pairs of Aeropostale jeans, neither of which she had worn all week. Upon picking them up, I saw that these weren't in a size 'long' like hers. Someone else was here with Quinn. And judging by the number of garments in the corridor… she and her guest were naked.

Tears began to well in my eyes as my worst fears were confirmed; a light airy giggle came from behind the baby pink door to Quinn's room at the end of the hall. I smoothed out my Cheerios skirt and took a deep breath, my hands shaking as I grasped the brass knob.

The smell hit me before the visual confirmation did. I know what sex smells like… I've done it enough times to be able to construct a molecular copy to sell as a fragrance. And Quinn's room was bathed in it.

I stormed in and was caught between anger and defeat when I gazed into the terrified brown eyes of Rachel Berry. She stared up at me from her place amid Quinn's baby pink sheets, her face flushed with embarrassment. My soon-to-be ex girlfriend was lying on her side when I entered the room, her back to me while she traced small diamond patterns on the plane of Rachel's bare stomach… Just as she'd always done after we made love. I blinked back the tears that sprang up when I remembered my first time with Quinn. It had been beautiful, almost spiritual; I'd never connected with another human being that way before. A broken gasp ripped through me at the thought of that memory having to be locked away, along with the rest of my heart, never for Quinn to see again.

"What in the living hell…?"

Upon hearing my voice, Quinn hurriedly covered Rachel's body with the white duvet, and quickly threw on a Cheerios t-shirt and a pair of black running shorts to hide her own nude form. But in my eyes, the damage had already been done.

"Santana," Quinn whispered as she began to make her way toward me.

I didn't wait for her to say another word. I didn't need her apologies. I didn't need her excuses. I didn't need her. I pawed angrily at the tears that tracked down my cheeks; I would not let her see them. I would not let her see how much she hurt me.

"Fuck you, Quinn Fabray."

And with those words, I left her house, her heart, and for all intents and purposes… her life.