"I'm so excited!" Rachel squealed, turning to Quinn from the chair at her desk and pointing to her laptop screen. Quinn rolled her eyes and smiled at the girl's outsize enthusiasm; it was one of those endearing traits that had made her fall in love with the short brunette when they were still in high school.

"Um, yay? What am I supposed to be looking at here?" Quinn asked, squinting at the small computer screen. She wished she hadn't left her glasses in the other room. "Did you finally get Barbra Streisand to answer your fan mail with something other than a form letter?"

"No, silly." Rachel made a face, then stuck out her tongue for good measure. "I got an e-mail from Marley! She's coming to visit tonight. Oh, we're going to have so much fun!"

Marley was Rachel's best friend; they were so similar in many ways that it was almost as though Marley was Rachel 2.0. But there were significant differences between them as well. Where Rachel was competitive and crafty, Marley was kind of naive and innocent. And while Rachel had been raised by two savvy professionals, two men in a longstanding committed relationship, Marley had grown up in a home with a single mother and not a lot of money. Quinn liked Marley a great deal, and was genuinely happy to learn that she was coming by.

"That's great, Rachel. When is she going to be here?"

Rachel turned back to the computer, peering at the e-mail. "Around dinnertime, I think. Somewhere between five and six o' clock. You brought your sleeping bag when we moved in here, didn't you? Is it in the closet or something?"

"I think so," Quinn answered. Their off-campus apartment was small and cramped, and they didn't trust the used couch they had to deliver any kind of adequate sleeping experience to any guests who might be staying overnight with them. "I'll have to check."

"Please do. Thanks!" Rachel said brightly, sipping at her coffee while perusing the morning news on the Internet, humming a cheerful, pleasant tune to herself.

Quinn never ceased to marvel at her morning perkiness, considering the girl had been up since 6 AM, continuing a practice she'd followed since the start of high school. If the early bird got the worm, the extra early bird got hers before anyone else's. That was the Rachel Berry philosophy, whether or not Quinn thought it made any sense; she'd gotten used to her girlfriend's quirks a long time ago. Smartly dressed in a tight black and white sweater and a short black skirt, she'd been ready for her 10 AM class since at least 7:30. It was 8:15 now, and Quinn had only gotten up maybe a half-hour earlier. She was still in her T-shirt and sleep shorts, her hair was tousled and wild, and even after two cups of coffee she still didn't feel completely awake. Then again, her first class wasn't until 12:30, so she still had plenty of time to shower and get ready.

A knock on the door startled them both; they looked at each other quizzically, wondering who it might be at this still-early hour. Then a very familiar voice came through, cutting through the pleasant silence of the morning with all the subtlety of a fire alarm.

"Wake up, bitches! Auntie Tana's got you losers some breakfast, courtesy of the hot girl in the cafeteria who's dying to get all up on this."

Rachel looked at Quinn, rolling her eyes, then got up to answer the door. "Hello, Santana," she said. "Nice to know you're not above trading potential sexual favors for some free Styrofoam boxes of warmed-over pancakes."

"And don't forget the fake syrup. What's in that stuff, anyway? Does anybody actually know?" Quinn asked rhetorically, rising to take one of the boxes from Rachel, who had taken them from Santana. Their across the hallway neighbor sauntered past them and unceremoniously flopped down on the ratty couch. Quinn raised an eyebrow, a smile quirking at the corners of her mouth. It was way too early for Santana - which, of course, was why she was there. "Make yourself comfortable," she said wryly.

Santana grinned, throwing a pillow aside so that she could lounge even more casually. "Already am, thanks," she said, adjusting the cushions, such as they were, beneath her.

"Be nice, Santana," Rachel admonished, handing Santana her box of pancakes. "Or I won't bring you a fork and knife, and then you'll have to eat the pancakes with your hands, like you did last time."

Santana fished around in the pocket of her jacket for something, and then flashed the object at them triumphantly. "Plastic fork and knife, wrapped in plastic for my protection. Your threats mean nothing, fun size. Now gimme some of that fake syrup."

"Ew," Rachel sniffed, walking off into the kitchen to get real utensils for herself and Quinn.

"What's she got against plastic?" Santana asked, tearing off the protective covering and tossing it to one side before opening up her box of pancakes, closing her eyes and taking a deep whiff of the still-warm breakfast treats. Then she opened her eyes and frowned as she looked at the contents of the box. "Hey, this one's not mine. Mine's got sausage in it. Who's got my -"

Quinn coughed. Santana's narrow gaze caught her, laser-focused. "Whoops! Sorry," she said around the mouthful of sausage she'd been chewing. She got up and exchanged her box with Santana's, doing her best not to smile in the face of the other girl's withering glare. "Here you go. I guess I owe you a sausage link."

"You best believe I'll be collecting on that...with interest."

Rachel returned from the kitchen with utensils for herself and Quinn, plus a bunch of napkins. She fixed her girlfriend with a look of mild disapproval, having overheard the incident with the sausage. Handing Quinn a napkin, she said, "Wipe your fingers, please. Your mother would be mortified to see you eating something like that with your hands."

"I doubt my mother would notice, much less care. She'd be on her third glass of bourbon by now and not exactly seeing clearly," Quinn replied. "Oh, don't give me that look, Rachel. I know you don't like to hear it, but you know it's true. Unfortunately."

Santana laughed, taking notice of Rachel's wince of discomfort at the blonde's words. "Harsh, Lucy Q." She stabbed a sausage link with her prized black plastic fork. "Now you'll never get your hands on that sweet, sweet trust fund cash when you turn 21."

"She won't need it," Rachel declared. "Quinn is going to be very successful on her own. And even if by some ill quirk of fate she's not, I certainly will be, and I'll be more than happy to give her all the support she needs until she does achieve the success I am certain she's destined to enjoy."

"Thank you, baby," Quinn said, beaming up at her girlfriend from her seated position on the floor. "I'd kiss you right now, but you know...pancakes."

"I'll keep that in mind for later – when we're alone." She gestured to Santana with her knife. "Sans company."

"Hey, don't be waving sharp objects around like that unless you know how to use them. And nice use of French, Mademoiselle Berry. That will come in handy one day when you're acting in foreign films that get Oscar nominations, but no one outside the Academy actually sees."

Rachel merely rolled her eyes, letting the joke fall flat; Quinn ignored it entirely. Instead she turned her attention from Santana to Rachel, chewing and swallowing a piece of pancake before asking, "Sweetie, do we have any orange juice left?"

Santana hopped off the couch, sidestepping Quinn to settle behind Rachel. She stuck out her tongue at the seated blonde, then peered over Rachel's shoulder at the glowing laptop screen.

"I'll check on that orange juice, Q. You keep your sweet ass parked right there." She made no move to head into the kitchen. "Hey, who's Marley?"

Rachel turned her head, blinking at the dark-haired girl. "It's rude to read over someone's shoulder like that, Santana."

"Sorry, Miss Manners. Not sorry. You gonna answer my question, or do I have to get it out of you with my syrup-covered black plastic fork of doom?"

"She's my best friend from back home – I mean, before my dads and I moved to Lima. You don't know her," Rachel answered curtly. "She's coming to visit tonight, so you'll get to meet her later - if I let you. And if you never say the words black plastic fork of doom in our presence ever again."

"Can't make any promises, short stack. Is she cute? And does she play for our team?"

Rachel swung around in her chair, her eyes narrowed. "She's adorable. And the matter of which 'team' she plays for is none of your business. So hands off."

"You're way too easy to read. Obviously this all means yes, she does play for our team. Excellent." Santana pumped her fist in mock celebration, backing away when Quinn swatted at her arm. "So when does Miss Adorable get here? I want to make sure the Lopez Welcome Wagon is ready and waiting for her arrival."

"She'll be with us at dinner, and that's all I'm telling you," Rachel replied. "Say, isn't it Tina's job as your roommate to deal with you, and not ours?"

"Yes, but it's so much more fun to bother you two. All Tina does is read Japanese comics, watch movies with subtitles and draw. You guys are kind of normal, at least."

"A compliment from Santana Lopez? Will wonders never cease?" Rachel asked tartly, flinging one arm up to rest on her forehead dramatically, as though she were about to faint.

Santana shrugged. "What can I say? Free pancakes bring out the best in me."

Quinn pointed at the door, grunting slightly as she rose from the floor with her now-empty Styrofoam box in hand. "Well, as much fun as this has been, we need to move on with our day. After all, some of us have to get ready for class."

"All right, all right. But you know you're going to miss me when I'm gone." Santana sauntered over to the door, exaggeratedly swinging her hips. With her hand on the doorknob, she said, "I'll see myself out. Later, losers. Auntie Tana out."

When the door finally closed behind her, Rachel shot Quinn an amused yet exasperated look, shaking her head. "Next time we're pretending we're not home, or dead. Or something."

Quinn laughed as she made her way into the kitchen. "Aw, she's not so bad," she said, opening the refrigerator door and peering in. "At least she brought us breakfast."

"True. But please remind me to pick up some actual syrup next time we go grocery shopping? I shudder to think of what we might have just ingested."

"And orange juice." Quinn frowned. "Looks like we're out."

"OMG, Santana! You just changed your outfit at least five times. Usually you just throw on whatever doesn't need to be washed and you're out the door. Something special must be going on tonight," Tina commented, watching her roommate turn every which way, inspecting herself in the full length mirror hanging on the wall. Santana mm-hmmed at her friend, trying and failing to ignore the mild distraction.

Santana hummed at her reflection. Her latest outfit was a casual one, as she'd received a text from Quinn informing her that they weren't going to a fancy restaurant before the movie. The dress she'd had on before had accentuated all of her best assets - everything, in her estimation - but the jeans she was now wearing looked just as good. She smiled at herself approvingly.

"Yes!" she said aloud to herself with a small fist pump. "If the outfit doesn't get her, my charm will. It never fails." She grabbed a tank top from her drawer and pulled it on over her head, then searched for a plaid button up to wear over it. "You say something, Chang?"

Tina sighed. "Cohen-Chang," she corrected for what seemed to be the thousandth time, cursing the hyphenation of her last name yet again. "Spill. What adventure do you have going on this weekend? Obviously a girl is involved - I've never seen you fuss so much over an outfit before. She must be something special."

Santana nodded as she pulled her shirt on, buttoning it up as she replied. "I don't know why you're going home this weekend. It's not even a holiday. I'd only go home if there was a check involved, personally." She paused to inspect the fit of her shirt, considering whether to tuck it in or let it remain as it was, untucked. "But yes, you're right. There is a girl involved. Rachel's got a friend from home coming to visit. She told me she was off limits, which means guess what?"

Tina rolled her eyes, shaking her head. She retreated to her bed, where her duffle bag was nearly completely packed, save for a few last-moment items. "When will Rachel ever learn?" she asked rhetorically. "'Santana Lopez does what she wants, who she wants, when she wants,'" she quoted. They'd been roommates for long enough now that she'd actually memorized the words, which were apparently the Lopez Mantra for Living.

"Exactly. So my new goal to accomplish this weekend is to bed Rachel's bestie."

"Wow, you're such a romantic, Santana." Tina teased as she put the last few items in, then zipped up her duffle bag, "I seriously can't figure out how you seem to get all the girls on campus, even the ones who say they're straight."

"It's a gift. I am gifted." Santana replied with a shrug, looking at at her watch. "Okay, I've gotta go. Text me when you make it back to Lima and I'll give you all the juicy details."

Tina shook her head as she walked over to give Santana a hug, "All right. Honestly, I'm not sure this is the best idea you've ever had, but I know better than to try to talk you out of it. Just...be careful, OK? I mean, if anything goes wrong – well, I wouldn't want Rachel mad at me, that's all I'm saying. She's small, but fierce. So try not to get into too much trouble."

"No such thing, Asian Persuasion. Say hello to the fam for me."

Tina laughed as she stepped away from the embrace, shouldering her bag. "Would it kill you to call me by my actual name?"

"I don't know. Let's not tempt fate though, okay?"

They stepped through their apartment door, and Santana closed and locked it behind her. Tina consulted her phone, texting her parents to let them know she was about to leave campus. She looked up at her roommate and smiled. Beneath the bluster and the weird nicknames, she knew that Santana was a good friend who would have her back if the need ever arose.

"You're insane. Good luck with Rachel's friend, but...I hope that the mighty mite doesn't kill you after it's all over, though."

"The good things in life never come without risk," Santana replied. "Now go – I don't want to be late, and your parents probably have a huge feast waiting for you."

Tina laughed as she walked over to the elevator. "Why do you think we're always eating? We'll probably just talk, watch a movie and then go to bed."

"Whatever. Just don't come back without those awesome dumplings."

The bell dinged and the elevator door opened. Tina stepped in, then called out, "Would I ever do that to you?"

Santana made a mock thoughtful face. "Probably not. See ya, Chang!"

As the doors closed, Santana heard her roommate yell, "Tina!" She laughed, then headed over to the stairwell. The night was young, and waiting...and so was a girl named Marley.