AN: A short (lol no) crackfic I wrote a while ago in between writing a more angsty Brittana one. It's slightly AU since it's dated somewhere in the fall of their freshman year and Brittana's still together while Santana has already moved in with Rachel.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, and if I did I'd never let them go because I'm not Rose and this door can fit everyone.
Quinn Fabray: I can't do that
Brittany Pierce: y not?
Quinn Fabray: Because in some countries that's called kidnapping
Brittany Pierce: how about u sneak into her room in the middle of the night n serenade her with ur sweet lady kisses?
Quinn Fabray: That's called breaking and entering and possible sexual assault
Brittany Pierce: =(
Brittany Pierce: but that's what Santana does to me all the time wen she was here
Quinn Fabray: That's the problem B, Rachel and I are nothing like you and Santana. We have to be dating first before I can do half of what you're suggesting.
Brittany Pierce: so sad. so r u going to be skyping with her later?
Quinn Fabray: Yep
Quinn Fabray: Actually, she should be calling me right now. I'll be right back
This was no big deal, Quinn told herself, just a friday night Skype chat with friends. So she puffed up her hair, adjusted her spaghetti-strap sundress, fixed her lipstick, redid her hair, made sure there wasn't anything embarrassingly conspicuous in her background, and did one last hair run-through before drawing in a deep breath and staring at the green light beside Rachel's name on Skype. No big deal at all.
While most of her Yale classmates were out getting trashed (unlike the uptight guppies Santana swore they were), Quinn decided to stay in to begin work on her essays for English Lit. She was one of the few that didn't value all-nighters, coffee, and procrastination, thanks to a lifetime of discipline under her father's thumb. Even though she was no longer under the Fabray household, she still had an entire community to impress. And in said community included Rachel, whose proud smile was worth all the outdated, boring textbooks Quinn had to endure.
Still, she made Rachel wait before accepting the shrilling Skype ringtone. She didn't want to appear too urgent or anything.
"Hey," came Rachel's voice, followed immediately by a bright face resembling that of Bambi and sunshine.
From what Quinn could see, Rachel was in her bedroom on top of her fluffy pink comforter that Quinn has yet to share. Platonically, of course. Despite being makeup-less with her hair tied back in a messy bun, bangs haphazardly askew, Rachel still looked absolutely amazing.
Quinn reminded herself to breathe. "Hey, stranger, long time no see."
"And who's to blame for that, Miss Fabray?"
"I'm sorry I couldn't make it last weekend. You know how it goes, when it rains, it pours. I didn't expect 3 mini-papers in a week. Can you believe all of them were on how the current erotica trend affects teenage youth?"
"Really? Finn only reads erotica."
Quinn grimaced and stuck a finger down her throat. "Ugh, lets not talk about Finn. I'm still mad at him for what he did to my Animal Crossing. So what are you up to?"
"I was helping Kurt recite some of his lines for Black Lake, a new play that our theatre department wants to put on. It's an adapted version of Black Swan. To be honest, I'm disappointed they couldn't have just gone with Swan Lake instead since that's the original stage version. I guess they felt the homoerotic angle between the female leads would be more alluring for people under the age of 21." Rachel rolled her eyes and a bit of her head, adding, "As if this generation needs to be turned on to appreciate art."
"Should I even ask what Kurt is doing in a Black Swan remake?"
"He plays ballerina number 3. He gets a few lines and gropes one of the other performers. I told you, it's all about the s-e-x. So what were you doing?"
"I was just chatting with Brittany on Facebook, but I think she just logged off."
Rachel pressed her lips together, appearing semi-guilty. "Speaking of Brittany, I forgot to tell you - Santana has the evening off tonight. She wants to Skype with you too, if that's alright? I guess it's a little bit too late to ask you now, but she sort of just invited herself during our lunch date. I would have said no but she was holding a knife."
Quinn tried to hide her frown as best as she could. Santana having lunch dates with Rachel was normal, because they were roommates and roommates did that sort of thing. It's the Santana snaking in on her time with Rachel that annoyed her. As much as she loved Santana and missed her, she loved Rachel even more and missed her twice as much. Why couldn't Santana just Skype her some other time? Like, oh say, when she's not with Rachel.
"It's perfectly fine," Quinn answered with a strained smile. "We wouldn't want her to shank you, right? Since she's from the wealthiest part of Lima Heights and all…"
They spent the next couple of minutes exchanging short stories about their friends, ranging from Puck getting caught skinny dipping in Sue Sylvester's pool to Sugar being revealed as some mob daughter under the witness protection program. The strangest of all was Santana Lopez willingly hosting pleasant Sunday night bonding time with Rachel Berry and Kurt Hummel.
Quinn had forgotten about everything else happening around them until Brittany's chatbox popped up and Rachel suddenly jerked up from her bed.
"I think Santana's home," Rachel said, looking off the screen. "Hold on a minute please, and if I don't come back in under that minute, call the police."
Quinn smiled because Rachel was just-too-freaking-cute sometimes. She reopened her chatbox with Brittany, planning to complain about the dancer's girlfriend being a total cockblocker. Or twat swatter. Or whatever that hip gay lingo was that Santana uses.
Brittany Pierce: hey did u die? u didn't be right back
Quinn Fabray: Sorry, I was chatting with Rachel. I'm back now. Do you want to get on Skype with us? Santana is going to be on Rachel's cam soon. Might as well make it a four way
Brittany Pierce: wanky. sure! let me put on my makeup first. i look like mercedes w/out it
Quinn laughed to herself just in time for Santana's voice to boom over the mic, "Q, you on? I can hear and see you laughing, freak."
Quinn switched back over to Skype to see Santana's entire face plastered on her screen. She jerked back and suppressed a yelp because Santana's mug should never be seen that up close and personal - unless you were Brittany, then you might appreciate the horror factor.
"Dammit," Quinn breathed, gripping her chest. "Why do you always do that?"
Santana laughed and leaned back, revealing an amused Rachel over her shoulder. "Remember that time I greeted you with my face all zombified? Good times, good times."
"You're a bitch," Quinn muttered. "No one should ever put that much effort into anything, ever."
"You love it!"
Rachel patted Santana on the shoulder. "I'm going to leave you two alone for a bit while I freshen up in the little girl's room. Can't mess with a good nightly routine!"
Santana made sure Rachel was out of earshot before grinning wildly at Quinn. "So let me guess, if I wasn't here, would you be asking to go into the little girl's room with her? Aren't restrooms sort of your thing?"
"Shut up, that's disgusting. What are you doing home anyways? Weren't you complaining about wanting more hours and money?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Santana wiggled her eyebrows. "I'm here to make sure you ladies don't get the chance to get all hot and naughty over the webcam. I heard you haven't seen each other in forever, and you know what that means? Sexually frustrated hormones galore. The last thing I need is to waste money on bleach, Fabreeze, and cleaning wipes to sanitize this poor place after you two sprayed all over it, via interweb."
"Did I mention that you're disgusting? You have to be having sex with a person to be sexually frustrated with them. Me and Rachel are just friends."
"And who's fault is that? If you'd just man up -"
"But I'm not a man," Quinn hissed. "And that's the problem right there. She likes men. Could we please stop talking about this? She'll hear."
Santana sighed heavily. "I swear...sometimes you're even worst than when you were in high school. At least back then you had a reason to have that stick so far up your ass it would have even gotten Kurt all hot and bothered."
"That makes no sense."
"Your grandma blazers doesn't make any sense."
"Just because I'm in college now doesn't mean I feel comfortable flaunting my - my sexuality like some people. I'm a private person, you know that."
"Ok, chicken shit."
"That's very mature, Santana. I see even the real world hasn't affected your ability to start or end sentences with something extremely offensive. I don't know how Brittany can put up – hey, what are you doing? Are you even listening to me?" She paused when she noticed that Santana had only been partially paying attention to her. The other girl's eyes were roaming around the screen, rapidly clicking on the mouse.
"I'm looking through Berry's Facebook," Santana said, casually.
"What? You can't do that, that's an invasion of privacy. Get off, Santana."
"That's an invasion of privacy," Santana mimicked. "Did you went to Rachel Berry's School of Talking? And who cares, it's her fault for even leaving it open when she knows I'm here."
"You're horrible, you know that?"
"Girl, I know. Ew, she's still talking to Tina Chang. Who even talks to Tina Chang? I'm sure even Mike Chang doesn't want to, and they're practically married by now being Asians and all."
"That's incredibly racist."
"You're incredibly racist. I wonder if - Oh my god."
"What?" Quinn perked up, seeing the sudden change in Santana's face. She hoped that was a good 'Oh my god,' like Rachel had been secretly talking to Tina about having feelings for certain blondes with breasts and vaginas kind. If not, maybe she can get Santana to look at the messages between Rachel and Finn or something.
Ok, no, wait. Bad, Quinn, bad! Invasion of privacy!
Quinn shook her thoughts (and conscience) clear and refocused on Santana who was squinting hard at the screen.
"Uh...So Q-ball, have you been talking to Brit on Facebook?"
"Yeah, why? What's up? What happened?"
Santana managed to tear her eyes away from the screen to look at the webcam, a disgustingly sinister smile spreading across her face. "Maybe you should go on Facebook and check out Brittany's status updates."
Curious, and a bit tentative, Quinn reopened her Facebook window to click onto the updates page. It all seemed perfectly normal until she scrolled down and spotted Brittany's name and status.
All three of Brittany's status.
About her.
Brittany Pierce hey quinn I think I know the perfect way for u to get Rachel now. just pretend u want to put suntan lotion on her then lead it into a sexy massage. b4 u know it, her tongue will be down ur throat. or somewhere else *winkwink*
Brittany Pierce aww r u ignoring me? i was jk! I'll think of some better romantic way 4 u to admit ur feelings
Brittany Pierce y does this look like my status page. oops! wrong window! forget i said anything, everyone!
Quinn couldn't breathe. She read then reread Brittany's updates until the electronic ink embedded itself inside her mind. Seconds passed as the pounding noise between her ears raged on. When she saw that there were around 53 likes and 32 comments underneath Brittany's status, the noise seemed to have manifested itself into heat, overwhelming her entire body and exploding at the tips. God, this must be what a hot flash felt like, or what Coach Sylvester goes through every time Mr. Schue or happy people cross her path.
"This isn't happening, this isn't happening," she repeated that mantra, closing Facebook to go back on Skype. She swallowed, eyes wide at Santana. "Please tell me that this isn't happening. Please tell me that your girlfriend didn't just post something about me and Rachel on her page."
Santana looked to be fighting back a laugh. "So uh, Quinn, what's this I hear about you seducing Rachel Berry under the guise of putting on suntan lotion?"
Quinn's face contorted into a pained expression before she dropped it into her hands. "I can't believe she thought her status box was a chatbox! Who does that?"
"Hey now, watch it, Fabgay. She gets easily confused, ok? They're both boxes, you know. Look, maybe everyone will pass it off as a joke or something."
"No, no, no. Rachel can't see that. Rachel cannot see that." She opened up Brittany's chatbox and quickly typed in a message.
Quinn Fabray: BRITTANY! You need to delete your statuses right now! Telling people to forget about it will not make them forget about it!
She nibbled on her fingers, impatiently waiting for Brittany's reply. When it looked like Brittany wasn't going to respond any time soon, she went back to Santana and growled, "Look, I need you to call up your girlfriend and –"
"Hey guys, I'm back," Rachel's voice sounded from off screen.
Before Quinn could pass out, Santana made a quick save. "Good, I was wondering what took you so long. Hey, sweet cheeks, you think you can cook me up some of that special vegan cardboard shit?"
"Why Santana, how very descriptive and inoffensive that request was!"
Santana rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Can you make me some of that vegetable curry Kurt keeps raving about? I haven't had dinner yet and I'm tired. Please and thank you!"
Rachel's face appeared on screen, pushing Santana aside. Quinn had to bit her inner cheeks from doing or saying something ridiculous, like outright sobbing and admitting 5 years of repressed emotions.
"I hope she's not terrorizing you, Quinn," said Rachel. "Rest assured, I will be back after I fix Santana up with the greatest orgasm ever felt through consumption."
"Ewww, ok, that was all sorts of wrong." Santana pretend-gagged off screen.
Rachel's one of a kind laugh could be heard all the way in Connecticut even without webcam. Quinn – between feeling pity and horror for herself – felt a dose of longing. She missed to hear Rachel's laugh live, to feel Rachel, to touch Rachel, to eat one of Rachel's cardboard cooking. But alas, her luck had always been on the get-hit-by-a-truck side.
Like now, for instance.
After Rachel left, Quinn slammed her hand on the table. "You get your ass on your phone with your girlfriend right now!"
Santana let out a soundless laugh that lasted for far too long before wiping an invisible tear away. "But why? I was having so much fun. I even bought you a couple of minutes to savior this calm before the storm."
Quinn's left eye twitched, and she felt the beginning stage of Cheerios Quinn cracking through her Mellow College Quinn. "Santana Jennifer Lopez."
Santana must have sensed the crack too. "Ok, ok, Brokeback Lemon, I'll call her and we'll 3-way."
Only Santana could manage to get Brittany on the line at first try. They hadn't done a 3-way phone conversation since freshman year in high school, and Quinn remembered why as soon as Brittany and Santana started talking all over each other, vomiting a disgusting admittance of love and longing. Quinn had to use her Cheerios Captain voice to shut them up. The rest of the call resulted in a lot of directions being yelled at Brittany (from Quinn) to a lot of profanities being yelled at Quinn (from Santana) to a lot of yelling at a fat cat (from Brittany) to the status updates finally being deleted. All three of their cellphones buzzed soon after, not allowing Quinn one minute of peace.
She nearly dropped her phone when she saw the message. "Please tell me Mercedes is mass texting everyone with an update of her music career, and not because Artie just tweeted about Brit's status."
"Artie just tweeted about my stats," Brittany said dryly at the same time as Santana's, "Artie just tweeted about Brit's stats. Oh my lordie, I'm looking at it right now and boy, he like, printscreen her fucking Facebook and everything."
Feeling a newfound rage toward a wheel-chaired boy who had been nothing but kind to her since high school, Quinn quickly surfed to his Twitter page. Instead of dropping her phone she felt like throwing it at the computer screen. Then throwing the computer screen at Artie.
SmartArtFartTarts ()ArtieAbrams: Woo! Talk bout Saffic lovin' Can I get an aHmen? ()brittanyspierce pic.twitter.com/xvD234
She was definitely going to kill Artie. First, she was going to kill him for spreading Brittany's mishap and second for sounding like he's a perverted 13-year old from the south who's never touched a girl in his life.
"Brittany, get on Skype ASAP so your beautiful face can counterbalance Quinn's monstrosity," said Santana. "She's two seconds away from turning into a tomato, so you need to get on NOW. I don't want you to miss this."
Brittany's face popped up seconds later alongside Santana's on Quinn's screen. Brittany looked like a cross between a defeated, hapless puppy and someone fighting back a good laugh even though they were in so much trouble. If Santana wasn't there, Quinn probably would have torn into Brittany. Not only did Brittany out her to pretty much everyone she knew, but it was now pretty obvious who Fabgay was going gay for.
"Brit -"
"Stop right there, Quinn," Santana cut in. "Whatever you're going to say to my girl, save it. She knows what she did wrong and why it was wrong and she's sorry. Lets move on from this mess and save your ass from further embarrassment."
"I'm really sorry, Quinn," Brittany said with a mastered pout. "If I'd known how to delete my status earlier, you know I'd do it in a heartbeat even if it means my heart not beating anymore and I die." Her pout somehow descended even further while her baby blue eyes moistened, and Quinn randomly felt a need to apologize to Brittany. No wonder Santana was such a sucker for her.
Quinn pulled at her hair, taking several moments to recollect herself. "Ugh, it's alright, B. This is all just a big mistake. Alright, first, I'm going to spam the heck out of Artie's phone until he takes that off. I suggest you two ladies do the same."
The unfortunate side effect of trying to reach Artie was that she had to look at her phone. In under the span of 10 minutes, she had already received text messages from former classmates and church people, her other best friends aside from the people she was Skyping with (Mercedes and Sam), and even people she's never met from the Lima area code.
Mercedes: Why didn't you tell me you had feelings for Rachel? No wonder you talked about her so much. I gotta say tho, good luck with that one
Sam: Dude…you, Rachel, me and some lucky lady. Double date. Breaking Dawn 2. ASAP!
Tina: I'm there for you if you ever need any advice. Just make sure her fathers don't rope you into the Jewish equivalent of Asian counseling. Never helps.
Mike: Not surprised. Some advice cause you'll need it, try and go to some sort of counseling like Tina and I did, that'll solve all the problems you'll eventually have!
Unknown Number: I ship you with Rachel! Finn and Rachel are so gag worthy and wrong for each other. Love, your uncle Kevin
Then there was a surprising one from her mother that read: If there's anything you need, Quinnie, you know how to reach me. I love you like a love song baby, so call me maybe. See, I can be hip with the times.
Quinn almost teared up at that.
Fortunately, Brittany wasn't Facebook friends with anyone at Quinn's school, so the Yale part of her life remains oblivious. Despite this being the 21st century, Quinn knew a lot of WASPY girls at her sorority that wouldn't accept this...side of her. However, Quinn's roommate was a follower of Brittany and Rachel off Twitter and if her roommate finds out….
No. Rachel will never find out.
Quinn would make sure of it, even if it means mass murdering her former high school classmates. With a renew vigor, she stabbed out Artie's phone number. He finally answered on the third ring. "Heeeeeey girl, I'm glad you –"
"Look, Artie. If you do not delete that tweet by the time I count to 10, I will make sure that the last woman you ever touch will be your mother after she picks up the pieces of your scattered body remains from all over Lima."
"Oh…uh…hi scary Quinn. Delete my tweet you say? I'll be right on it!"
Quinn hung up without a goodbye. She turned her attention on the two girls – one who looked ready to topple over in hysterics, and the other who looked like she was fighting between joining her girlfriend or pretending to be miserable on her friend's behalf. Quinn hoped that she could excuse all of this on Brittany's Brittism. Brittany was just being Brittany – Brittany wasn't trying to harm her – Brittany didn't know –
Then another thought kicked her in the shin. "Oh my god, Santana! Rachel's phone..."
On cue, Santana raised her hand, showing off Rachel's bedazzled, rainbow colored iPhone. "You better be glad I'm Hispanic. I snatched it off her when she went to the kitchen. Kurt's been blasting off her phone since for-fucking-ever. Finn too. I threatened Kurt with burning his Abercrombie and Fitch catalogs if he so much as breathe this."
"I'm really, really, super sorry, Quinn," Brittany said in a small voice. "If I'd known it'd be this massive, I would have written something sexier about the two of you. Sexy back massages are such a grade school thing."
"I wish you wouldn't have written anything."
1 new notification
Quinn furrowed her brows, noticing that the Facebook popup was from Artie. She clicked on it to see that he had written her a private message. It better be important, or at least his way of saying he could forever erase everyone's message about her and Rachel from the internet. If not, maybe she can get Santana to threaten Jacob Ben Isreal and his entire family into helping her with his nerdy computer skills...
Artie Abrams: So why is it not ok for me to keep my tweet but ok for Puck to go Faberry on u guys over tumblr?
Faberry? What the…Quinn wrote back a quick message saying how it isn't ok for Artie to do anything that involved her. She turned back to Santana and Brittany's window to see them kissing their computer screen, tongues and all.
"Really guys? Really?"
Santana smirked, wiping at her screen. "Sorry bitch, you were busy ignoring us so we decided to make good use of our webcam time."
Brittany shrugged. "I just thought it was funny. At least we didn't webcam sciss–"
"Brittany!"
"Get on Puck's tumblr!" Quinn ordered, completely ignoring them. "Like, right now. Get on his tumblr right now! I want to see what that jackass did."
She shouldn't have said that, because she really did not needed to see what he had done. On his tumblr, creatively named Puckasaurus, was a picture of Artie's tweet followed by a photoshopped picture of her and Rachel. Kissing. Each other. How Puck managed to get individual photos of her and Rachel kissing in order to even photoshop them together was a mystery she wasn't going to investigate. She had bigger problems, like how to get Puck to get rid of that picture and how to murder both Artie and Puck without getting caught.
"Gotta say, Q, you guys look semi-hot when both your faces are covered," Santana mused.
"Wow, when did this happen?" Brittany asked, tilting her head in confusion. "I thought you still had problems trying to get into her pants."
"It's not real!" Quinn groaned. "It never happened! I don't even know what's going on anymore."
"You're pretty tumblr famous now," Brittany said. "Look, it's at 20,000 notes! You can't mess with 20,000 notes."
"I didn't even know Puck had a Tumblr."
Santana's face twisted in disgust. "Better off we didn't know. It's full of porn and James Deen and why the hell is there a kitten picture set between two posts about cum shots?"
"He likes cats," Brittany explained, "Even bought Lord Tubbington a year supply of Delicious Pousey. That's French for cat food, he told me."
"I don't care what he likes!" Quinn said. "We need to get into contact with Puck and we need to get him to take that shit off."
All three of them spammed his Tumblr asks box. When he hadn't replied – or picked up his phone, or checked his Facebook and email – Quinn resorted to calling up Sam and asking him to beat the Jewish out of Puck back in Lima. But while she searched for Sam's name in her contact list, she received a new text message from Mercedes.
Mercedes: Look girl, please do not hurt me. Blaine thought it would be romantic to write about your love story and he roped Sam into beta-ing for him. Sam asked me if I thought it was a good idea and I sort of said yes. . . . .
"What the hell is beta-ing?" Quinn murmured to herself as she typed: What are you talking about?
Mercedes: fanfiction.com/s/9887/1/Fallin Slowly
"What the hell is this shit."
"What the hell is what shit?" Santana asked, leaning closer to the monitor as if she could read Quinn's text.
Quinn forwarded her text from Mercedes to Santana who then forwarded it to Brittany. Together, the three of them went to the link on their phones and after minutes of complete silence, a simultaneous gasp could be heard from three different states.
"Blaine friggin' wrote fanfiction about me and Rachel?" Quinn shrilled through gritted teeth. "How is it 6,000 words long? It hasn't even been half an hour yet!"
Santana burst out into laughter. "He labeled it under Twilight!"
"'She wrapped her dick around Rachel's –' Quinn, I had no idea you had a dick," Brittany said, enraptured with her phone.
"I don't have a dick!"
"You're - you're a vam-vampire," Santana wheezed, "Who also happens to turn into a werewolf with a magical dick every full moon. And you can wrap your dick around shit! I say this is Pulitzer Prize worthy."
Brittany nodded enthusiastically. "This is some pretty good intense stuff."
"Why are they doing this to me?" Quinn whined, unable to take her eyes away from the horrific written words. "And why am I the one with the penis?"
"Hold up girl, apparently Rachel has one too." Santana cackled. "Surprise, motherfucker!"
"Blaine is a really good writer," Brittany commented.
"Ok, stop, stop!" Quinn said. "Lets all stop and refocus. We need to get Puck to take that shit off his tumblr and Blaine to erase whatever this damnation is!"
"Before we do that can I leave Blaine a review?" Brittany asked.
"No!"
"Psssh, I already author followed him," Santana said, tossing her phone aside.
Brittany beamed. "Baby, I didn't know you have an account! Follow me too, please."
"Yeah, them Rizzles and Fuffy stories had me hooked."
Quinn rubbed at her temples as the two of them went into a tangent about fictional, subtext gay couples. There was a split second where she wanted to chime in and say her 5-year old niece was a big fan of Bubbline off Adventure Time and had asked Quinn to draw a picture of them holding hands. But then she remembered she was a 19-year-old woman and this was so not her thing.
"Hey guys, what's going on?" Rachel popped out from behind the screen, startling everyone involved.
Quinn's eyes budged out of her sockets, silently urging Santana to do something. Santana thought quickly and did the first thing on her mind; she tossed Rachel's phone somewhere off the screen.
"Did you just threw my phone out the window?" Quinn heard Rachel say, too stunned to sound angry.
Santana scratched the back of her head and had the decency to look stupid. "Oops. Sorry Streisand, you scared the hell out of me. I'll pay you back?"
"Santana! You should be thankful that my phone is military approved and forever protected by a bulletproof case! I can't believe you just –"
"Hey, maybe you should run downstairs and get it back before that hobo snatches it up and resells it for drugs."
"But you're the one that –"
"I know, and I'm sorry. Look at it this way – we're even now for that time you dragged me to that all-male strip club and debauched my poor and innocent eyes."
Quinn heard Rachel's voice peaked five levels higher than normal. "Fine! And for the last time, I was tricked and misinformed. It wasn't my fault that they misled the audience with their falsely advertised Chippendales: The Musical! signs."
The three of them waited in abated breath for Rachel to leave before Santana spoke up. "Phew, that was a close one."
"I can't believe you threw her phone outside the window," Quinn said.
"I can't believe you went to a male strip club without telling me," Brittany whined.
"Aw babe, it wasn't worth it. Too many penises, something that I'm sure Quinn is personally familiar with every full moon."
Quinn growled. Literally growled. "Ok, shut up. Back to our task before Rachel comes back; Santana, get a hold of Puck. I'll try and get a hold of Blaine. Brittany…um, go do something."
Santana rolled her eyes. "Whatever."
Brittany clapped her hands together. "Ok!"
Quinn bypassed multiple new messages from her friends and family to get at Blaine. The call rang, and rang, and rang, and Quinn wouldn't have been surprised if Blaine had gotten a warning from Artie. She was about to give up and admit defeat when a quiet, choked voice finally answered.
"Blaine? Are you – are you crying?"
"Yeah, I'm sorry," Blaine said, sniffing. "I was reading some of my reviews and people are so touched, Quinn. So very touched. They're all just touched by your courage and –"
"Ok, I'm going to stop you right there. Delete your story before I sue you for defamation of character, you sadistic bastard."
He hiccuped. "But – but why? I took a simple story about bullies and those being bullied and turned it into a story about overcoming adversity and racism and accepting love for what it is. People are being touched by this story and –"
"Defamation. Of. Character."
"Ok, ok. What if I took out the werewolf part?"
"Defamation. Of the character."
"What if I genderswapped you and Rachel? That had been my original plan by the way."
"Defamation of so many characters there aren't enough money in the world for you to repay me with."
"But –"
"Do it before I sick Kurt on you!"
"Ok!"
"Bye."
"Bye!"
She hung up just in time to see Santana hanging up. The girl had her lips pressed together and Quinn couldn't tell if she appeared to be suppressing laughter or the urge to throw up. With Puck, you never know.
"What's going on? What happened? Please tell me you took care of Puck," Quinn pleaded.
Santana just shook her head then let out a big, deep breath. "I sure did, but er, if Puck so happens to make a music video about your epic love or whatever, probably in the near foreseeable future, it has absolutely nothing to do with me."
"Santana!"
"He had some really cool ideas, ok?"
"Santana!"
"I just texted Blaine that he could totally change yours and Rachel's name and keep the story without facing legal issues," Brittany said, smiling proudly at herself. "See, awkwardness at Glee gatherings avoided. They'll think the story is about Quinneth and Raquel and not a Quinn and Rachel."
"Brilliant," Santana said, smiling proudly at her girlfriend.
Quinn took her laptop into her hands and begun to shake it. "I hate you guys so much! Every single freakin' one of you guys! I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you –"
"What's going on?" Rachel's voice came back, as did her face from above Santana's head.
Quinn dropped her laptop and plastered on the most fake and brightest smile she could without coming off as a psychopath. "Nothing. Nothing at all, Rachel. Santana, Brittany, and I were just talking."
"Oh, really? You looked like you were freaking out."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Rachel's eyebrow quirked. "Are you sure about that?"
Both Quinn and Brittany nodded. Santana flicked something off her nails and shrugged.
"So then your little tantrum had nothing to do with Brittany's Facebook status?"
They could hear a dime drop, or was that Santana laughing behind her close mouth? Quinn's jaw gobbled up and down but no sound came out. Brittany had to tap her screen to make sure they were indeed not moving and not because her computer froze.
"How – but how?" Quinn asked.
Rachel waved her phone in front of the cam. "Told you my case is indestructible. I just got off an interesting call with Finn."
"Oh, no," Quinn groaned, dropping her head into her hands. "Oh, no, no, no."
"He sounded angry and started accusing you of trying to ruin his life after he accidentally deleted your Animal Crossing save."
Quinn peaked out from behind her fingers to see Rachel smiling fondly at her.
"I told him he could stuff it," Rachel continued. "And that if you did indeed have feelings for me, then I will gladly accept your verbal admittance of said feelings regardless of his thoughts on the matter."
"I don't understand," Quinn whispered.
Santana sighed. "Just tell her you like her, dumb shit."
"Santana!" Rachel said, pushing lightly at Santana's shoulder. "Admitting feelings for someone you like is a difficult thing to do, we shouldn't push Quinn. However, if she did have feelings for me, then I wouldn't be opposed to say, seeing where this takes us."
Brittany squealed so loudly that Quinn and Rachel had to turn their speakers down.
Quinn stared at her keyboard, feeling jubilated, exhausted, and downright shy. "This wasn't how I wanted to tell you."
"It's ok. Maybe you can tell me this Saturday when I take the first train ride up to New Haven?"
"I'd love that."
"Wow, all that mess just now for it to end like this," Santana said, flicking something else off her nails. "How anti-freaking-climatic."
Quinn and Rachel both smiled toothily at each other, ignoring the two other people on the Skype chat. When Quinn finally dragged her eyes away from Rachel's excited brown ones, she noticed Santana was grimacing at Rachel's face and Brittany was typing frantically away on her keyboard. It was the Brittany and typing things on the computer that brought her back to reality. That was never a good match.
"Brit, what are you doing?" Quinn asked.
"I'm writing this down for my future collaboration with Blaine. Sam already agreed to beta for us and Puck wants to make a poster for it too."
Quinn smacked her forehead on her keyboard.
AN: Even though I sorta made fun of g!p and supernatural fics, I actually really, really, really, love them. So much so that I might eventually one day maybe write one. Or someone else could for me *winkwink*