An idea I've had since the Quarterback and decided to finally get down. It's a little rough, I just want to see reactions should I continue, or not? Future chapters will be around 5,000 words. Not everything will be canon. Oh, and the rating will change to 'M' later in the story.
6:23 p.m. -New Haven
She's practically naked, pale fingers at work inside a coffee-colored girl when she hears a knock on the door. Nobody comes to visit her, nor should they. She has tutoring sessions, and payment sessions. This is a payment session. But begrudgingly, Quinn snatches her fingers out of the girl and swings around to the door. She flings it open and is surprised (though not as surprised as she should be) when she's met with the conflicted, emotion filled eyes of Santana.
"Where've you been?" Santana demands, though her voice is no louder than a whisper and that unsettles Quinn.
"Here," Quinn's answer is simple and truthful.
"Finn's dead."
"I know."
"You didn't show up to the funeral."
Quinn chances a glance back at the girl on her bed who looks quite frustrated. Quinn's frustrated too.
"Santana, you can't just show up unexpected like this." Quinn huffs, crossing her arms rather defensively. No, she didn't show up to the funeral, but it's not like Finn would want her there anyway. She was completely horrible to him and there is no way to justify showing up like they were good friends.
"You have all the time in the world to fuck people, but you can't come to Lima for two days to see Finn laid to rest!" Santana's voice is still a whisper, and it's unnerving to Quinn that the Latina is not being fiery. She starts hissing in Spanish and Quinn sighs.
"Okay, okay, bella dama," Quinn watches Santana's face grow confused and then turn blank when she utters the Spanish words. "You wanna come in and talk?"
Santana rolls her eyes and brushes past Quinn, but Quinn catches her by the waist before she can get all the way in. "San, are you okay?"
"Fine, fine. Wash your hands before you touch me again." Santana mutters and pushes her way out of Quinn's grip. Quinn turns to the girl who's ever so patiently sending her deadly looks, but waiting on the bed none the less. Instead of saying anything to her, Quinn gives her an annoyed look which sends the girl, naked and all flying out the door. Not without murmuring, "I didn't get to cum," as seductively as possible into Quinn's ear.
"Girls," Quinn sighs, shaking her head at Santana. "Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em." At that comment, Santana smirks, but quickly goes back to biting her lip. Quinn sifts through her closet and pulls on a shirt and some jeans before plopping on her bed.
Quinn takes a drawn out breath before asking Santana, "Okay, so why are you here?"
"I need you to do something for me."
"What?"
"Find Finn's Letterman jacket for me."
"What do you mean find it? Where did it go?" Quinn's face automatically scrunches up as if she heard something utterly confusing.
"I don't know! That's why I need you to find it!" Santana's fire is back, and Quinn's heart leaps at the familiarity and memories it brings with it.
Quinn sucks in her lips, hits her thigh, and then sighs. "Start from the beginning. Tell me what happened. And why the hell you want his jacket?" She runs her fingers through damp, blonde hair, and leans her elbows on her knees, giving Santana her full attention.
Please review. It would make me happy! Much love, SW.