Quinntana Week Day Three: Body Swap.
This will be continued once Quinntana week ends. I couldn't justify cramming everything into a one-shot so it'll be a short story instead.
*0*0*
Getting To Know You
*0*0*
Rolling over, with your head aching and your body sore, you let out an exasperated sigh as you attempted to get comfy again. It was probably the ass crack of dawn and yet there you were being woken up. It was a loud thumping, like some asshole was running around, that had pulled you from your slumber, and you knew you were going to have to talk with Kurt and Rachel again about being considerate roommates. Why didn't those two ever learn?
You had learnt not to bring home questionable girls from the bars you visited. You had learnt not to start cooking at four in the morning. You had learnt not to raid through their belongings every month. You had become a considerate roommate, now it was their turn.
Grumbling under your breath, it was then that you realised, with the sound of a little chuckle that followed and the bed moving next to you, that hello, you were not alone. Cracking one eye open, you saw the lithe body of someone next to you, and then felt their hands make your body's acquaintance.
Okay, so this was a pleasant surprise.
You were sure that last night had been nothing more than a few glasses of cheap wine and then going to bed alone. But hey, here was a girl whose hands were teasing at the band of your underwear, and clearly you must have fucked her last night if that hickey on her collarbone was anything to go by. So why question it now?
Nuzzling into her neck, and placing soft kisses on the skin there to slowly warm her up, you allowed your hands to seek out her waist. Her tank top had ridden up, and your fingers wasted no time in embracing the sun kissed skin revealed.
"Quinn," the girl moaned in response, and maybe now was time to question it.
What did she just say?
"What did you call me?" you murmured, pulling back to get a good look at her, your voice heavy with sleep. Her black hair was tousled around her head, and she was squinting at you in the morning light, a frown marring her face.
"Quinn?" she repeated with her voice rising at the end, and now it was your turn to frown.
"Why, why would you call me Quinn?" you asked, and she began to sit up. What a good idea, and you followed suit, leaning back against the wall next to you and realising that this was not your room.
You didn't have fucking bedroom walls. So where the hell were you?
There were two single beds, both pushed against opposite walls, and minimal furniture, but it was definitely a dorm room. A surprisingly familiar dorm room, now that you had time to look at it.
Those sun dresses and cardigans on the pile of clothes next to the desk looked very familiar, and the posters on the opposite wall were ones you'd definitely stared at before. Though, usually Quinn's head was in front of them and it was via Skype.
Why the fuck were you in New Haven, and where was Quinn? What the fuck was going on?
You knew for a fact that you didn't get the train up to hers last night. You were tipsy from the wine and had spent time with Rachel and Kurt. Nowhere in that did the idea to see her pop up. So what…how…why?! Why were you in Quinn's dorm room, in her bed, with a half-naked girl calling you her name?!
"I think you should leave," you said, shaking your head as you pushed back the covers to begin to get out the bed. Only, those were not your hands, and those certainly weren't your legs you'd just revealed.
"Yeah, I think that would be best," the girl muttered, not giving you another glance. "They did warn me that it would be a one-night thing, but I thought maybe you'd treat me with a little bit more respect," she yammered, and you gave her a bewildered look because what the fuck was she talking about?
You were white for fuck's sake? How could her bruised ego compete with that?! Your entire skin complexion had changed, and she was moaning about only being a one-night stand?
As she gathered up her clothes and threw them back on, you watched her carefully, containing your freak out right until the door of the room closed behind her. Only then did you spring out of bed, skid across the floor, ignoring the fact that you only had on underwear, and come to a stop in front of the mirror.
This had to be a fucking joke.
That was Quinn. You were staring at Quinn.
Raising your hand, you waved at the mirror, and so did Quinn. Had you…had you lost your mind? Was this some kind of serious mind fuck? What…what was even going on?
If you were…if you were Quinn, then who the fuck was you?
Cautiously turning back round, you spied the room again and felt your stomach twist in knots. This was so messed up. It had to be a dream. It absolutely had to be a dream. This couldn't actually be happening. There was just no way.
Pinching yourself, just to check, you winced in pain and shook your head. Not a dream, but still a serious fucking horrific situation you had found yourself in. You needed answers, and you needed them as soon as possible.
Searching through Quinn's crap, and throwing on a t-shirt while you did so, you eventually found her phone. Of course, that didn't mean you could get into the damn thing because you had no clue what her password was.
Well, this was going fucking great!
Heading to the door, you opened it up and peeked out into the hallway. You hadn't had time to visit Quinn yet, so you didn't know the layout of her dorm rooms, or where anything was. You really didn't have a clue, and that was most likely evident on your face…Quinn's face…whatever.
"Hey, Q," a voice called, and you looked in that direction. Across the hall, the dorm room door was open and a girl staring right back at you. Thankfully, you didn't have to say anything, because she just kept on talking. "I saw Melody making her way out here pretty fast. You couldn't have at least taken the girl for breakfast like usual?" she asked and you narrowed your eyes.
Was Quinn friends with this girl? And were girls in Quinn's bed a regular thing? You'd need to find that out later. Right now, you needed to call yourself, which made a hell of a lot more sense in your head.
"Can I use your phone?" you asked, cutting right to the chase. Sod pleasantries.
The girl raised her eyebrows in surprise at your question and nodded.
"Eh…sure." She disappeared out of sight for a second and then came out into the hall. You were still hanging out your door, and given the fact you hadn't put on more clothes, you really didn't want to step out completely. "Will you help me get alcohol next weekend? I know it's a big ask, but Jake's coming to visit," she asked, rattling on, holding the phone just out your reach.
"Why not," you replied, shrugging your shoulders. By then, you hoped to be back in your own damn body, in your own damn bed, in your own damn city. Quinn could get the girl booze.
With a smile, she handed over the phone, and you told her you only needed to make one quick phone call and then you'd give her it back. She seemed totally fine with you doing so, so Quinn had to be friends with her, and then retreated back in the dorm room.
Calling yourself seemed like the safest bet, and if you couldn't get through or they didn't pick up, you'd call Rachel. She always answered her phone, and you'd managed to memorise that number because she was a sucker for picking up dinner for you after her late classes.
Dialling your number first, you waited with bated breath. It kept ringing, and you thought it was going to ring out, but no, someone answered it.
"Hello?" Was that what you sounded like? Really? God, you had a good voice.
"Quinn?" you asked nervously, needing this to be her in your body because otherwise this mind fuck was going to get so much worse. And ugh, you were beginning to sound more and more like Quinn as you woke up fully. This was horrible. This was fucking awful.
"Santana? Is that you?" she replied, and your shoulders dropped in relief.
"Please tell me you've come to the same disgusting realisation I have."
"You're me," she gritted out, and you began nodding even though she couldn't see it.
"And you're me."
She immediately began freaking the fuck out, and it took you a good minute to get her to shut the fuck up. She could whine and bitch later, when she was using her own damn minutes to do it.
"You need to get the girl across the hall booze," you threw in after she asked you whose number you were calling from. If it had been her phone, her picture would have come up on your phone's display.
"Santana!" she cried, and ugh, could she stop? She was probably going to attract Kurt and Rachel's attention, not to mention damage your voice.
"What? I needed to talk to you and I can't get in your phone. What's your password?" you asked, grabbing her phone and waiting to put the digits in.
"Two-three-eight-four," she muttered, and you frowned at the tone. Then it clicked as you hit the numbers on the keypad. Beth. Of course.
"We'll talk about that later," you sang, but she was quick to shut you down.
"No, we won't." God, was she always this moody? That can't be good for your body.
"Whatever. I'll call you back."
"Wait! What's yours? If you're using my phone, I at least want to use yours," Quinn argued, and you rolled your eyes, but even that wasn't as satisfying.
"Two-Seven-Four-Eight," you answered, and waited for her reaction. You really had planned on changing it, especially since Britt and you hadn't spoken in so long, but it was habit. And yeah, didn't have to wait long for her to get all smug.
"Wow, look at that, maybe we should discuss your password instead-" she began.
Hanging up abruptly, you headed back to the door and cocked your head out. The other girl still had her door open, and it didn't take much to get her attention. She accepted the phone back with a smile, and you decided to be nice for a change. She'd done you a favour, and she thought you were Quinn, ugh, so maybe it would be wise to act like her.
"Thank you!" you chimed, plastering on a fake smile. "See you later," you called back, closing your door behind you, and giving her a quick wave.
That wasn't too hard. Maybe you could easily pull off being Quinn. Though, Quinn on the other hand was never going to be able to pull off being you. That shit was ridiculous. She might be able to spit venom and glare like the best of them, but she lacked your quick wit and sharp tongue.
Just thinking about it had you faltering. Quinn was going to do so much damage as you. She was going to be sweet and nice and kind and considerate and everything you didn't want her being to Kurt and Rachel. No. No. Absolutely not. You needed to intervene and shut that shit down before it even started.
Going for Quinn's phone again, you put in her password and rolled your eyes. If she wasn't over Beth, or if she was torturing herself with this, then she needed to talk to someone. Fuck, you'd even listen to her pregnancy woes or whatever. Last thing you wanted was her falling off the deep end again.
Once in, you wasted no time in calling yourself. Unlike last time, Quinn answered quickly. She bitched at you for a good five minutes on phone etiquette and it sounded like something right out of Rachel's mouth. How horrific.
Thankfully, you managed to get her to focus on the situation on hand. There was so much more important shit to think about right now. For starters, you didn't have a fucking clue where anything was, what the protocols were at Yale, and you had no one to show you around. At least Quinn was going to have Kurt and Rachel.
"The dining halls are closed," Quinn informed you, and you opted to lie on her bed during this conversation. It felt like it was going to be a long one. "Some of the other places on campus are open but they close early afternoon. Look, if you're already talking to Marley then just let her take you out, but don't sleep with her!" Marley must be the girl across the hall, you assumed.
"Geez, you make it sound like I can't last five minutes without getting laid when you were the one who woke up alone this morning," you reminded her. God it was weird to hear Quinn's voice while you spoke. That shit was never going to feel right.
"If you call waking up to Kurt and Rachel's rendition of My Favourite Things from the Sound of Music waking up alone, then we clearly have different definitions of the word," Quinn replied, and you rolled your eyes. You had actually gotten used to their musical awakenings, and maybe, though you'd never admit it, maybe you were slightly jealous at having missed out.
"Yep, sure, at least you weren't about to get fingered by a complete stranger. Who was she anyway? Did you have a good time last night?" you asked, turning it back on Quinn because girl had clearly been keeping a lot of secrets since she'd been up here.
"We're not talking about it, so you can drop it now," Quinn replied, and you assumed she was trying to give her 'no-nonsense' voice, but on you it only made you cock your eyebrow in consideration. If that's what you sounded like doing that, you needed to start using in more. That voice could scare the shit out of Freddie Krueger himself.
"Whatever. You're not even giving me the opportunity to be proud of you, Q, and that's your loss! So, what the fuck do you think happened?" you asked, having received most of the information you'd need to at least survive until this mess was cleared up.
"Do you really think I have any clue? Santana, I'm just as lost as you are, except I have to be you for however long this is going to last. You don't have a job or anything, right?" Quinn sounded completely snooty as she asked.
"Nope, you're fortunate enough that my parents are still sending me cheques. What about you? You've not joined Teen Moms Anonymous or something, right?" Or worse, she'd joined another God Squad and you were going to have to participate. Fuck that for a laugh. You weren't going.
"You're going to pay for that." And maybe you deserved to since she was clearly still hung up on Beth.
"Oh relax already. This is traumatising for the both of us, the least you could do is take that stick out your ass," you replied, and you definitely had a good point, whether she could see that or not.
"What do we do? I mean, am I to pretend to be you?" Quinn asked, her tone changing from that of before, and you recognised that voice as your vulnerable voice.
"Honestly, I have no clue but we're probably going to have to do that, at least until we work out what's going on," you answered, hoping she could hear how you weren't taking the piss anymore.
You really didn't know what was going on, what had happened, or even why this had happened. Nothing made sense. You hadn't done anything different yesterday than the day before, and you hadn't made any ludicrous wishes. This just seemed to be a crazy phenomenon.
"We know what's going on, you're me, I'm you, we just don't know why it's going on," Quinn mumbled, sounding as put out as you felt.
"You should ask Rachel."
"Ask her what?"
"She always thought she was a psychic, I'm sure there's something to it. Drop some hints, see what you get," you suggested, mentally patting yourself on the back for that thought. Apparently you did listen to your roommates when they spoke, that's new.
"Are you being serious right now? I can't tell." Quinn said, and you rolled your eyes. How couldn't she tell? This was her voice. Surely she would know what she sounded like when taking the piss.
"Yes I'm being serious. You do that, and I'll research some on my own." Brilliant idea.
"You're going to Google it, aren't you?"
"Yep! Now, go do your job. Call me if you come up with anything! Oh, and don't be too nice or anything." You hung up again and slumped against her pillows.
This was exhausting.
*0*0*
So Google was pretty confusing, and absolutely of no use to your predicament.
Once you'd refined your search, you came across theories of body jumping and astral projection. It all sounded reasonably possible, but not actually like what you were experiencing. The experiences most people were describing in regards to both those theories were limited, only lasting a certain amount of time, or not involving anyone else at all.
What Quinn and you were going through seemed to be a full body swap. Her mind was in your body, your mind was in her body. For that theory, you could hardly find anything. There were a few others on forum pages going on and on about their experience, but it seemed dubious. They spoke about feeling this transformation, their mind travelling, and you sure for shit didn't.
Sadly, a text from Quinn, or yourself really, told you that she wasn't getting much from Rachel, either. There was nothing concrete to go on, and it was becoming pretty obvious you were just going to have to see this out. How long it was going to last, you didn't know, but there really was nothing you could do.
Admitting defeat, you decided to get to know Quinn a little better. Yes, you had been friends with her for years, but being friends and living as them were totally different matters. You needed to know her dirty little secrets, and where better to look than Facebook?
Smirking happily, you were pleased to see that she left herself signed in, and you assumed that was the case with everything else. You'd hunt through her email later. First, you needed to catch up on whom she spoke to, who she was even friends with, and see if she had any private photo albums. Those were always gold.
Unfortunately, the first thing you saw when you loaded up the webpage wasn't mindless chatter but rather a very popular update status from you, written an hour ago. What the fuck?
Santana Lopez: I just want to apologise to everyone who I've hurt over the years. I took my rage and anger out on all of you when I shouldn't have. Hopefully, you can forgive me for being so terrible, and I'd love to make it up to you all. It would really mean a lot to me if we could all be friends. Since graduating and never seeing each other for such long periods of time, I think it would be best that we all make a pact to be friends forever. I've turned over a new leaf here in New York, and I'd love to move on to a brighter future with all of you at my side. Thank you.
This message was then followed by a shitload of likes and various people commenting. Even fucking Rachel and Kurt were singing your praises about this new you. People actually thought this was you being serious. What the hell? You didn't want to be friends with half these bastards.
What the fuck had Quinn done?!
Grabbing her phone, you dialled her in a fit of rage. Seriously, was she out of her fucking mind? This was war. War!
"You bitch! You made me nice!" you cried out the second Quinn answered the phone. She chuckled darkly and you made a mental note to start doing that more often because you sounded pretty hot.
"I told you that you were going to pay for that comment about teen moms anonymous," she sang, and your voice was just fricking gorgeous. Why didn't you talk more?
There were more pressing issues at hand, of course, and after signing out of Quinn's account, you tried to sign back into your own. Only it wasn't accepting your password. You couldn't do it. You couldn't get back in.
"Everyone's fucking liking that bullshit, and what the fuck! You changed my password!" Okay, who was the girl because the Quinn you knew didn't have the balls to do any of this.
"You shouldn't have been rude to me!" Quinn replied, as if that made it all better.
"Oh, well fuck that. Who haven't you screwed up here because I'm going to make a list and tick them off." You weren't, but you were pissed at her and that was definitely enough to freak her out.
"Don't you dare," she hollered, and yeah, you were right, she was shitting herself. It also implied that your guess had been correct; she'd screwed more than just that girl last night.
"Change my password back then," you argued, wanting back in your account. As you spoke, you quickly signed back into hers. If she had changed yours, then you were going to do the same.
"No," Quinn said simply.
"Oh, then I guess I should start with Marley. You haven't fucked her yet, have you? Or was there some drunken nights in fresher's week I don't know about?"
"Santana," she barked, and alright, that voice had you freezing. You needed to work out how to do that for future reference.
But hell, she sounded panicked and really angry, and maybe you needed to think this through some more. She was in your body, after all.
"Relax, alright? I won't, but can you please go delete that message?" Surely that was a decent compromise.
"I can't. You've made so many friends from it, I don't want to jeopardise this development," Quinn replied, sounding highly amused by this turn of events.
"How do you feel about tattoos? I remember you had that hideous Ryan Seacrest tattoo on your back, but Puckerman told me it was fake. You were too much of a chicken shit to get the real deal, but how about I help you with that? What would you like? Jesus on the cross over your vagina? Or maybe Judas up between your shoulder blades?"
"If you want to play this game, we'll play. You forget that I actually like Rachel and hanging out with her isn't painful for me. So maybe I should go bond with her, you know, become like best friends with the girl," she sassed back, and whatever, like that was a threat.
"Oh please, you'd never do that because you know once I got my body back I'd be a bitch and it would hurt her feelings. But hey, are you going to be okay living with her twenty four seven? I know that gigantic crush you had on her probably hasn't gone away and being with her might bring back those feelings. Are you sure you'll manage?" you asked, sounding concerned.
"I did not have a crush on her," Quinn spat back, quick on the defence, and you chuckled. Okay, how had you never noticed that she sounded pretty hot when she did that? Forcing that thought for another time, you shook your head and responded.
"Yeah right! You wanted to hump her legs like a dog every time she performed, and I do not give you permission to do that in my body so don't get any ideas now that you're with her." That would be sickening. Horrifying. Your body would never recover.
"I'm not going to be doing anything with her," Quinn replied, sounding bored with you already.
"Good, that's just like me then. You actually might be able to pull this off," you chimed, content to hear that.
"Are we really going to do this?" she asked again, and fucking hell, could she not keep track?
"What else would you have us do? Q, I have no idea what caused this, let alone how to change us back. Let's just play it out."
"I'm not sure I'll be a very convincing you." Yeah, you weren't buying that. Of course she wouldn't be you exactly, but she had the bitch aspect of her personality to pick up the slack. You were pretty certain she was more worried about you being her. "Why don't you come down here until we get this sorted out?" she suggested, and yeah, you were certain your theory was correct.
"I'm not going anywhere. This shit happened with both of us in different states, I don't think us being in the same room will help."
"Santana-"
"What are you hiding up here? Like, I get that you're banging girls left, right and centre and haven't told anyone, fine, okay? That's yours to tell when you're ready. But what else?"
"I have not been 'banging girls left, right and centre' as you so crudely put it," she argued back and you rolled your eyes. Girl was in denial. The proof was all over her Facebook, which you were still hunting through.
She had access to private photo albums and yeah, if she hadn't fucked at least four of the girls in that picture then you were really Kurt's pillow boyfriend, Bruce. The way they were looking at her, the way Quinn's hands were so familiar with each of them in this album, you wouldn't be surprised to hear if she'd had an orgy after whatever party they were at.
"Alright, making love to an abundant number of girls then, whatever-" you said, attempting not to be so crude.
"No, not whatever. Look, just leave it." Quinn sighed and you felt your shoulders slump in defeat. You hadn't wanted to put her in a bad mood or upset her.
"Q," you began, fully ready to apologise for your shit actions but she wasn't having any of it.
"No, I don't want to talk about this. Be nice to Marley, she's sweet and a close friend. Don't…don't sleep with anyone or kiss anyone, alright? And if you haven't already, look at the girls in that private album on Facebook. Stay away from all of them, please." She sounded beaten and you ran a hand through your hair in frustration.
"I'll be good, I promise," you said softly, trying to get her to believe you.
"Okay, I better go." Without another word, Quinn hung up and you were left in silence.
Alright, that didn't go well at all, and now you felt like shit. You were also starving, and while you couldn't fix Quinn's mood, you could eat. Maybe. You'd need to enlist the help of Marley if she was still around, she seemed like the helpful type.
With a plan in action, you set about your first day of being Quinn Fabray. God, this really was a nightmare.
*0*0*