Note: This was an unnecessary bit from Ink Spot & Verse. I wanted to make it clear that Santana was making an effort with Quinn - and that she was astute enough to realize that Quinn needed it. I ended up taking this idea and incorporating it into the story a little differently.
I also have no idea (currently) what my idea was for Santana's plan when I originally wrote this.
This was the first crack at it:
This was something new for Santana. She's dated plenty - with her looks, it's clear she's had her opportunities. She's usually the initiator, so that's not new.
The thing about this, though, is that she actually cares. She wants to do it right this time because, heaven help her, this is her chance at something that actually means something. She's never wanted that before.
But she wants it now.
And she wants it with Quinn.
Quinn, the girl who iced her out for no good goddamn reason. The very same Quinn who pretended she didn't exist because it was easier for her. But also the Quinn who had a chair brought out for her visits. A more thoughtful Quinn who bargained down her boss on the price of a rare-ish book.
All of those Quinns. She wanted all of them because she wanted to show them that she didn't have to call in the cold front for protection. Santana was a pussy cat. No one needed protecting from her.
Except lame asses who did.
But that's not Quinn.
So, when she finally figured out she wanted it - and that "it" didn't mean a quick something-something - she put everything she had into it. The plan included flowers, phone calls, drop-ins - all that stuff that she found annoying as shit. Quinn was worth being annoying for. And she'd never done it before.
She'd never let anyone know that she wanted them enough to embarrass herself. Santana Lopez writing love notes? Yeah, no. She didn't roll like that. But if it meant that Quinn would start to realize that she was being seen, being noticed and appreciated, then she'd give it the ol' college try.
A plan is what she needed. Something that would do all that without making Quinn second-guess her affections. The other girl saw something in her and a complete turnaround could backfire.
Part A of the plan, then, needed to be to figure out what Quinn liked about her (other than the obvious).
The problem with Santana's undertaking was that she didn't know how to play the game. She'd come up with all sorts of conniving methods of stealing into the other girl's head. She'd considered offering up a game of truth or - well, truth. But Quinn didn't seem like that kind of girl. There was the random "let's compare things you like about me to your celebrity crush" idea. But Santana really had no interest in hearing about other woman Quinn might have it for.
She wasn't really sure how she wanted to go about it but "So, what's your favorite thing about me?" wasn't really what she'd meant to come out when she saw Quinn at the book store the next day.
Quinn's eyes grew round and she blinked owlishly. "Excuse me?"
"I just mean - " Santana rolled her eyes at herself. "I know what I like about you but I don't really know what it is you see in me. Am I some hold-over crush from high school or, y'know, are you more in the present with me?"
The other girl bit her lip, her cheeks reddening. "I'm with you," she said softly, her eyes drawn to the counter in front of her. "In the present, I mean." She looked up through her lashes and said, "There's isn't a whole lot not to like about you."
"I didn't ask what you don't like about me," Santana said, a frown pulling at her lips. "This is one of those say nice things about me times." She tilted her head and sing-songed, "If you do, I'll say nice things about you, too."
Quinn giggled and shook her head lightly. "You make me laugh," she finally said, choosing the easiest answer.
"And my ass in these pants?" Santana stood up and turned around, her fingers pointed at her backside. "It's okay to choose that, too."
"Santana!" Quinn pretended to be scandalized but the laugh in her voice gave her away. "That's not bad, either."
"Not bad?" Santana actually sounded offended.
"You're more than a hot ass in skinny jeans." Quinn took the other girl's hand and genuinely said, "You're so alive and full of fire. And you make me feel like I am, too." She bit her lip and looked down.
Santana knew that look. Quinn was about to qualify her statement - say something to water it down. Before the other girl could pull her hand away, Santana rested her free hand on top and squeezed their hands together. "It's because you let me be that way without apology. I don't have to hide from you." She dipped her head and forced Quinn to meet her eyes. "And you don't have to hide from me, either."