Quinn Fabray looked around the room and squinted. All the white was hurting her eyes. Seriously, the entire room was white- the walls, the floors, the door. She adjusted the straps of her white dress- seriously, even the fucking dress? –and pulled on the door. It was locked. Sighing, she ran a hand through her disheveled blonde hair. Then she heard it.
Quinn…
Her name being called in a beckoning whisper. Turning rapidly, Quinn's wide eyes darted around the room. She could've sworn she was alone earlier. "Hello?" she called out into the emptiness.
Her eyes finally settled on the table that had seemingly appeared from nowhere. But what she was more concerned with was what was on the table. There, resting on a polished, ceramic plate was a stack of bacon done to crispy perfection.
It called to her again in that inviting voice.
Quinn…
She took a step forward, one hand reached out.
Quinn…
Quinn…
"Quinn!"
"I'm up! I'm up!" she shouted, sitting up suddenly. Then she clutched her cheek. "What the mother-?"
"Anyone ever tell you that you drool in your sleep?" a familiar voice remarked next to her. She turned to see Santana Lopez, her best friend since high school, wiping her hand on her bed sheet.
So that's what the stinging was. "Anyone ever tell you not to slap a pregnant woman while she's sleeping?"
Santana rolled her eyes. "Whatever, I have something to tell-"
"Wait a second, how did you even get into my house?"
The woman studied her perfectly manicured nails nonchalantly. "Rachel let me in."
"Rachel!" Quinn screeched. "What did I say about not letting Santana in in the middle of the night? Do you want a repeat of last time?"
She shuddered at the memory. It had taken months for her eyebrows to grow back.
"I'm sorry, Quinn," a muffled voice came from through the wall. A moment later, the woman in question came bounding in, dressed in a nightgown Quinn was certain she once saw her grandmother wear. "But she has such big news and I just got so excited! It just couldn't wait until the morning!"
"Yes," Santana spoke up again, eyes gleaming, "as I was saying-"
"She's going to ask Brittany to marry her!" Rachel squealed, jumping about the room comically and bouncing from leg to leg.
"Rachel!" Santana whined. "I was going to tell her!"
"I'm sorry, Santana, but you should know me well enough by now not to trust me with such exciting information. And isn't it exciting? Two of our best friends finally tying the knot after dancing around each other in high school and overcoming the homophobia in a small, conservative town to run away together to the Big Apple! It's just so romantic! And after I got over the initial shock and confusion, I was just so happy to hear-"
"Wait, hold up," Quinn, who was still trying to get her mind wrapped around this, chimed in, arching a brow, "confusion?"
"Oh, yeah," Santana remarked, laughing a little. "See, Genius over there thought I was proposing to her!"
"Rachel fucking Barbara Berry! Open this goddamn door right now or I swear I will castrate you!" A chorus of heavy knocks followed.
"But you can't," the Broadway singer cried, flinging the door open. "It's physically impossible."
Santana pushed past her into the kitchen. "How dare you doubt my ability."
Rachel followed her. "Santana, you can't just barge in here whenever you feel so compelled-"
"What do you think about this?" Santana interrupted, slamming a small black box onto the dining table.
Rachel blinked. For once, Rachel Berry was left speechless. There, in the middle of her table, was the most beautiful and lavish engagement ring she had ever seen. "Oh, Santana," she breathed. "As beautiful as that ring is and as much as I like you, despite your many angry outbursts and unpredictable behavior, you already know I am in a committed relationship with Quinn. And also, I just couldn't do that to Brittany. Think about how heartbroken she would be to find that-"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Santana backed up, clearly perplexed. "What? I'm not proposing to you. This is for Brittany. You know, the girl I've been in love with since high school?"
"Oh," Rachel squeaked, heat rising to her cheeks.
"Yeah…" Her voice trailed off into awkward silence. Suddenly, she clapped her hands together loudly, making the embarrassed brunette jump. "So I'm gonna go tell Quinn now."
"And here we are," Rachel finished, still obviously embarrassed.
"Like I would ever dump Britt for Manhands. I mean, have you seen those dancer abs?" Santana added, looking a bit dreamy.
"Anyway!" Quinn said loudly, hoping to redirect the conversation before she was forced to go to bed with some very disturbing images in her head. "Have you figured out how you're going to propose?"
Santana shrugged. "As long as it's like crazy romantic. Britt always wanted a simple proposal."
xxxxxxx
"Santana has always wanted a fancy proposal," Brittany stated to her mother over the phone as she flipped through a magazine. "One of those big, grand gestures."
"Well, why don't you take her out for a picnic dinner on the beach? And watch the sunset together?"
"That's a great idea, Mom. Except for the fact that I can't cook and we live in New York."
"Well, it was just an idea, honey."
"I know, Mom." The blonde dancer sighed, closing her issue of Cosmo and tossing it to the side. "And I appreciate it. I do. I just want this to be perfect."
xxxxxxx
"I just want this to be perfect," Santana said, nervously wringing her hands and pacing.
"And it will be," Quinn insisted, placing a hand on her shoulder to calm her down. "As long as everything goes according to plan."
xxxxxxx
"Is everything going according to plan?"
"Yeah, thanks for helping me out, Amy. It means a lot."
"Of course. Just get me a new sister-in-law, Britt. I always liked her better anyways."
"Oh, shut up."
xxxxxxx
"Shut up!" Santana growled.
"But it's not everyday we see head bitch Santana Lopez bow down before the Puckasaurus."
"Look, you in or not?"
"I'm in. You're my lesbro, Lopez. And even while we were shacking it up, I was always rooting for you two kids to get together."
xxxxxxx
"Okay, she's home! She's home!" Brittany hissed into her phone. "I have to go, Mom."
"Alright, alright. I'll go…and Brittany?"
"Yeah?"
"Good luck."
Brittany paused in her frantic state and smiled genuinely. "Thanks, Mom."
xxxxxxx
Santana kicked off her heels and threw her keys into the little glass bowl that sat on the table by the door. "Britt?"
"In the bedroom, baby."
Santana made her way into the bedroom the two shared and smiled at the sight of her girlfriend sprawled under the covers, hair cascading in gentle waves over her shoulders and sparkling blue eyes fixated on the television on the far wall.
"Hey, babe," she greeted, taking off her coat.
"Hey, San. How was work?"
"Terrible," she muttered bitterly.
Brittany hummed sympathetically. "You look like you could use a night out. Do you want to go eat at Angelo's tonight?"
Her eyes shifted to the left and Santana looked at her suspiciously. Whenever Brittany was up to something, she would always look a little to the side. This telltale signal was what had ruined many a surprise birthdays. "No," she said slowly. "I think I really just want to stay in tonight."
Brittany started to panic internally. She had everything planned out already. She would take her out on a ferry after dinner and as the sun set in the late evening sky, she would pop the question. How was she supposed to propose if she couldn't even get Santana out of the house?
Santana looked up from in the middle of changing when she realized it was too quiet. Brittany would usually talk about her day as she changed, but now she looked lost in thought. Suddenly, her glazed eyes snapped back into focus and took in the nearly naked body in front of her. She lit up. Maybe I can convince her with some sweet lady kisses, she thought, lips quirking into a smile. God knows I can be persuasive.
With a cheeky grin, she crooked her finger at Santana who was watching her with interest. Much to her disappointment, Santana just shook her head and laughed. She pouted. That has never happened before. Usually, Santana would jump all over the chance to have some sexy times with her. Her eyes narrowed. Something was wrong.
"Why don't you want to go out tonight?" she tried again.
Santana shrugged and pulled on a pair of cotton shorts. "I just don't."
She's lying.
Meanwhile, Santana was freaking out. Shit, she knows I'm lying. How am I supposed to make her a romantic homemade dinner if she keeps insisting on going out?
"Why do you want to go out so badly anyway?"
"I just want to get out of the house for a little while."
Santana sighed in relief at her answer, which didn't go unnoticed by Brittany. "Why don't you head down to the grocery store then?" she suggested, "I think we're running low on supplies anyway."
"Why don't you come with me?" Brittany pushed.
Santana ran a hand through her hair, irritation seeping in. "I told you, I just want to stay in tonight."
Brittany studied her skeptically. Why was she so adamant about staying in? Better yet, why was she so adamant about kicking her out? "Who will be coming over while I'm gone?"
Santana looked at her, confused. "What? No one!"
"So you're not cheating on me behind my back?" she questioned bluntly.
Santana looked at her disbelievingly. Something in her snapped. "No," she said firmly, her voice rising. "And I can't believe that you would think that for even one second!"
She marched to the dresser and pulled a drawer out roughly. Brittany's eyes widened. Was Santana really going to leave her for that accusation? But she just took out a small black box and threw it at her. Brittany caught it without thinking and looked down. A gasp echoed in the eerily silent room. "Do you wanna know why I wanted you out of the house so bad? It was so I could make a fucking romantic dinner for you! I'm not cheating on you! I was going to fucking propose! So there!"
She stormed out of the room, muttering angrily to herself in Spanish. Halfway out the door, a hand caught her around the wrist. She turned. "What?" she spat.
"Yes," Brittany said simply.
"What?"
"Yes, I'll marry you."
Santana laughed incredulously. "I didn't ask."
"Sure, you did," Brittany shrugged. "You told me you wanted to marry me and gave me a ring. And I'm saying I want to marry you, too."
Santana scoffed. "You are unbelievable!"
Brittany shrugged again. "If it helps, I also got you a ring."
She pulled the blue jewelry box from its place in her pocket. Santana stared at it, all anger wiped from her face, eyes wide and glistening with the beginning of tears. "Ask me," she whispered.
Brittany grinned. "Santana Lopez-" she started.
"Yes! Yes, yes, yes!" The Latina shrieked and jumped onto her girlfriend, legs wrapping around her waist. The rings clattered noisily to the floor.
"Umph," Brittany huffed as she struggled to keep balance as full lips peppered kisses all over her face. "Wait, yes?"
Santana pulled back. "You didn't actually think I was going to say no, did you?"
Brittany smiled at her cheekily. "Well, of course I knew you would accept, but it's still nice to hear."
Santana just growled and pulled her in for a searing kiss, taking her by the hand and leading her back into the bedroom. Brittany shrugged as she thought to herself, I can always tell Mom tomorrow.
For now, she had a fiancé to celebrate with.