A/N: Alright, boys and girls. Here we go. Day 4-Forbidden Fruit. Anyways, I have seen your reviews, and I am totally listening to your requests. I think I'll write a second part to 'Making Up', and you guys wanted me to get some love and fluff going on in 'The Couch', so I might just have to write some up for you (:

Disclaimer: Pretty sure if I owned Glee, I wouldn't be broke.


Quinn sighs as she rolls out of Santana's bed for the umpteenth time, sighing as she pulls her shirt back on. "I have to go," the blonde mutters under her breath. It's the same routine, every day. Quinn comes over to her apartment, she tries to end it with Santana, and they always end up having a session of hot sex at the end of every argument. She knows that this time is the last though, she's engaged, but of course Santana doesn't know… yet.

"Do you have to go? Wouldn't want you to get a case of the herps from your 'boyfriend'," Santana responds, as per usual, using her fingers to brush through the mess that is her sex hair. The Latina props herself up with one of her elbows in order to stare as Quinn gathers up the rest of her clothes. She knows how it goes. She asks Quinn to stay, but Quinn blows her off, but always with a promise to visit tomorrow. She knows the script like the back of her hand, she could practically mouth Quinn's next words.

"I can't stay," Santana fights the urge to lip sync to Quinn's next words, "Biff is waiting for me."

She doesn't know why, but Santana decides it's time for a rewrite. Instead of saying, 'Okay, see you tomorrow' she decides to say, "Why are you even with him?"

This makes Quinn pause. "Uh…" Quinn tries to think of an answer. One that is appropriate for this type of situation. "He's a good man, and," the blonde furrows her brows in determination, "I love him." She almost chokes on her own words. How can she love a man that doesn't know how to show love? At least not in the proper way.

"Bullshit, Quinn." Santana moves to stand up, bringing the bed sheet wrapped around her. "You don't love him."

Quinn starts to back out of the room, into the living room with Santana advancing on her. "I can't do this, Santana." She gestures between the two of them, trying to get the point across.

The almost-naked girl runs around Quinn and blocks the way between the door and her…best friend? Girlfriend? Fuck buddy? "Please, I can be better than him. Just let me try!"

She clenches her jaw and unclenches it as Santana talks. "Stop, Santana. Please, stop talking. I don't want to have to say 'no' to you, so don't make me."

If Quinn didn't know any better, she swears she can see a tear trying to make its way out of Santana's eye, but in true Santana fashion, she flicks her hair behind her shoulder and blinks; next thing she knows, the tear is gone. "That's not fair," Santana argues in a raspy voice, "You can't just leave me here again, like you do every time just because you're so stuck on being a bitch!"

Clenching the bridge of her nose with frustration, Quinn takes a deep breath. She doesn't need this argument, and quite frankly, she doesn't have the time for it. "What do you want me to say, Santana?"

"Oh, I don't know, something along the lines of 'Fuck Biff, let's get our mack on.'" Santana has sass, the blonde will give her that.

Quinn furrows her brows in determination once again. "I'm not gay, Santana. I love him." The blonde reaches around Santana for the door handle again. "I have to go…"

Santana swats her hand away from the door knob. "You're lying," she says, "You do that thing with your eyebrows when you lie." Without any warning, Santana leans in towards Quinn, letting her lips meet the other girl's soft ones.

The blonde loves it, if she's honest with herself. She loves the way Santana's lips feel against her own, and she would love to keep it going all day, but she's on a mission. Quinn gently pushes Santana away. She gears up for the thing she's been dreading to tell Santana all day. "I'm engaged." Santana's entire being visibly deflates. "I need to go, he's waiting."

The girl shakes her head. "You won't come back."

"I can't come back."

"Then I'm not moving." Santana crosses her arms and stands resolutely in front of the door.

"Please, he's going to get mad." The blonde internally curses herself for saying something so fucking stupid. Of course, Santana has questioned some of the bruises that appear on her body, but Quinn always blows them off with some barely believable excuse.

"Oh yeah? How 'mad' does he get?"

"Not… too mad."

"Liar."

Quinn feels like she's about to cry with frustration. "Please, just move. If you care about me, you'll move."

Obviously, Santana doesn't move. "Well if you care about me, you won't make me."

This time, Quinn groans, quite loudly, in frustration, and she realizes there is only one way to make Santana move. Even though she's already late, which she will pay for, she's not overly late. Biff can't be getting suspicious after all. "If you let me go, I'll come back."

Santana scoffs. "You're just saying that to make me move. Please, Quinn, I know you."

"I swear on Beth." Quinn leans in to kiss Santana. It's a chaste one, but it's all Santana needs. "I'll come back."

The other girl sighs. "Okay." She moves from the door allowing Quinn to leave the apartment and make her way towards where Biff is waiting.

Biff always waits outside of Quinn's workplace to pick her up. Santana just happens to live extremely close to the building, which makes it look as if Quinn is exiting the building, not Santana's apartment.

He sees her from the car, and promptly gets out as Quinn approaches. "Hey, baby," she greets, once she is close enough.

"I've been waiting here for ten minutes. What took you so long? You know I hate it when you take for fucking ever." Biff grabs the blonde's left hand roughly. "And where is your ring?"

Quinn reaches into her pocket with her right hand, and pulls the engagement ring out. "It's here, darling. You know I take it off at work so I don't lose it."

Biff strains to think about what the blonde is saying. Since he's usually drinking a scotch every time she sees him, she hopes that he doesn't realize that she's lying about it. "Right, I remember," he lies. Quinn releases a breath she isn't aware she's holding. "Get in the car."

Obediently, Quinn walks around to the car and gets in the passenger's seat. "I need you to wear a black dress tonight," Biff says from the drivers' side. "I have an important dinner to go to, and you're going."

She hates black. It makes her look dreary and almost sickly. "What about blue? It will match your tie," Quinn looks over to Biff, he seems to be contemplating. "It's more conservative, as well."

That seems to make up his mind. He nods. "Blue, then." He risks a glance to Quinn. "Sweetheart?" Quinn looks over only to be met with the back of his hand. Not hard enough to cause her to yelp, but hard enough to leave a red mark. "Don't talk back to me."


Thankfully the drive isn't long until they reach the house. The blonde hastily runs up the stairs and into the shared bedroom. She rummages through her closet looking for the right shade of blue that will go with her fiancé's tie. Finally, she finds the stupid blue dress and throws it on the bed so she can remove today's outfit.

As soon as she gets her arms through the dress, she hears a light tapping. She stops, listening. There it is again. Blonde hair wisps through the air as she looks around the room. Then she's sees it. Her. Santana is on the balcony, tapping the glass of the door slightly.

Quinn walks towards the door, and steps outside once she's pulled it open. "What are you doing here?" she hisses at the Latina.

Some kind of flush seems to make its way up Santana's cheeks as she examines her blonde friend. "What," she seethes, "is that?" Santana points to the mark Biff left behind when he slapped her.

The blonde hasn't even had time to come up with an excuse, so she stands there stuttering, trying for the life of her to make a sentence appear. The other girl just stands there, looking unamused and shaming Quinn with her eyes. "I… hit myself?"

"Oh, are you asking me?" Santana retorts, fists on her hips. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm…" Quinn throws a thumb over her shoulder, "getting ready?"

"Who the fuck are you right now?" Quinn winces at Santana's tone, which makes the other girl soften quite a bit. "Okay, wait." She takes a deep breath. "We are leaving. Right now."

Santana moves to grab Quinn's hand, but the blonde pulls away. "I can't, he's gonna-"

"What? Hit you again?" Shame. That's what is written all over the blonde's face. "Yeah, no." Santana pulls out her cell phone and dials a number. "Hey, I need your help." She looks up at Quinn and turns her body away for a small pit of privacy as she starts to whisper. Quinn only catches a couple words, but not everything. "Emergency at Quinn's place. Yes. No he doesn't know I'm here, are you insane?" Santana seems to hesitate on the phone. "This is a work call, I need to, uhm, report an incident. Yes, that's what happened." A click, and Santana pulls her phone from her ear to look at the screen. "Okay, let's go."

"But, Biff…"

"It's taken care of." This time, Santana offers her own hand, waiting for Quinn to take it. As soon as she does, Santana pulls her towards the bedroom door and down the stairs. Biff is waiting. "Who are you?" Santana keeps moving. "Where do you think you're going?" He tries to catch Quinn's arm, but Santana pulls her closer, causing him to miss. "I'm calling the police."

Santana stops in her tracks and slowly turns around to face him. She lets go of Quinn and leaves her by the door as she stalks up to the 'fiancé'. "Go ahead," she snarls, "but before you do…" Santana reels her left fist back and sends it flying towards his jawline. A loud thwack is heard throughout the foyer, and Biff stumbles back until Santana sends her fist flying into his nose. This time, a crack is heard and Biff falls down, clutching his nose. Santana kneels down beside him, shaking her hand in pain. "If you ever touch her again," she grabs the front of his collar, "I will ends you." She lets go and he falls back to the floor, head thudding against the floor.

"Police! Open up!" Quinn reels around to face the door, wondering how Biff was able to call them. Santana brushes past her and yanks open the door.

Noah Puckerman steps into the foyer, and turns to face Santana. "Where is he?"

She points to the cowering man on the floor, Puck looks at her and she shrugs. "Self-defense?"

He nods, and walks to Biff, flipping him over and attaching cuffs to his wrists. "Biff McIntosh, you are under arrest for domestic abuse, and assault. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?"

"This is crazy, she punched me!" Biff starts to resist Puck, but the officer just tightens his grip.

"Believe me, I am doing everything in my power not to kick your ass myself." Puck basically lifts Biff up and walks towards the door. He stops next to Quinn. "Good to see you, baby mama." He winks and starts towards his cruiser. As soon as he throws Biff in the back, Santana jumps up to hug him. "Hey, you're going to wrinkle my uniform," he teases as he wraps his arms around her.

"Thank you, Puck," she whispers.

He looks to where Quinn is standing. "Go get your girl, San."

She releases him and walks back towards Quinn to show the blonde to her own car. "San?" Quinn asks before she gets in, Santana reels around to face her. "Thank you."

The Latina puffs out her chest. "That's just how we do it in Lima Heights," she pauses. "Without the police part."

Quinn chuckles and pulls Santana in for a hug. "Back to your place, then?"


A/N: Totally went a different way than originally planned, but in all fairness, Quinn was forbidden in the beginning. Good thing Santana is a rule breaker. Until next time, my little darlings.