Santana didn't like being at Louisville anymore. Everything about it drove her insane with niggling guilt and she hated it. So going with logic she drives away from college in her mustang to New Haven.
She probably shouldn't have been driving on this occasion. She had a buzz about her from her 4 light beers, not enough to be drunk but enough that her reaction time still sucked.
She was suddenly grateful for Puckerman's "training" in handling alcohol. She probably had ten times the resistance to its affect then the average regular bar goer.
She pulls into a motel car park after her non-stop drive. Rents a single bed room and then disappears leaving her car to take care of itself.
It will be fine, she's trained it in self-defense and if any trucks try and funny business it has a horn that is loud as all hell.
Santana decides the greatest idea in the world at this time is to remove her portable speakers from her car and wear them as a necklace, talk about functional fashion.
She spots gold roughly two blocks from the motel.
There it sits. In all its four-wheeled glory. Red and shiny like its brand new but that doesn't matter to her. What matters to her is there is a ride on mower sitting abandoned on a front lawn at 2am and that's slow enough for her to steadily drive even after her ever increasing alcohol consumption.
She drives onto the Yale living quarters grounds and parks outside. She stands on the seat, wobbling with her phone connected to two speakers loudly playing 'Take My Breath Away' instrumental as she drunkenly sings along.
When nothing happens she throws a pebble she'd "stolen" from the motel's parking lot at a window that she guesses is Quinn's. She has no evidence or reason for this thought , it like this entire expedition is based on intuition, impulse and a lot of Dutch courage.
She whimpers reprimanding herself. We mustn't think of things that are Dutch right now. Too painful.
She replays the instrumental and continues singing until FINALLY a window opens and Quinn with her wild proud mane delightfully tangled bedhead is visible. Shame that wasn't the window her pebble hit.
Quinn is caught between laughing at her friend, yelling at her for making a scene and pitying her because well, she knew what had happened and she would be lying if she said she didn't feel saddened for her best friends.
She settles for bemused exasperation.
"What are you doing San?"
Santana sways unsteadily.
"Well our duet was from the eighties so I thought" she hiccups "Why not make my dramatic arrival all eighties romance yo"
Quinn takes in everything about this situation. Her friend is an extraordinary idiot, but sentimental which is a sort of weird consolation.
Santana is wearing a trench coat and cut off gloves, with what appears to be red flannel under the jacket. Ok, so Breakfast Club.
She's standing on a lawn mower, well….she knows that the ride on mower comes from 'Can't Buy Me Love' but she's quite sure they didn't stand on the thing.
Now as for the speaker music, she is aware of this one originating from 'Say Anything' but she is immediately thankful Santana changed the music. It's nice when someone doesn't try to be exactly from a movie and adds a personal touch.
"Romance Santana? I'm pretty sure I've turned you down enough haven't I?"
Santana pouts dangerously. Quinn obviously neglected to take in Santana's incapacitated demeanour.
"But I thought that meant no awesome threesomes. You don't want me?"
Quinn's eyes go for a joy roll in the race track of her eye sockets. She can't believe she still has to deal with this shit when she got out of Lima.
"Ok you're clearly drunk. I'm coming to get you. STAY THERE!"
Santana jumps off the mower and plonks her butt onto the seat in one swift but entirely graceless movement.
She curiously eyes her surroundings but thinks nothing of it because for some reason, none of her observations are registering in her mind at present moment.
Quinn appears only a minute later, shoeless in pyjama shorts and a tank top.
Santana greets her by running her hands through Quinn's now past shoulder-length hair. It amazes Santana at this moment that hair really does grow.
Quinn is not amused. Well, she's trying to act like it anyway.
She relocates Santana's hands to her waist and slings her own around Santana's neck bringing her into a tight hug. She senses that Santana needs it.
"Come ride with me?"
Quinn sighs. She is aware that rejection will result in loud sobbing but that isn't the only reason she feels a strange pull to the mower. Right now she just wants a reckless moment. Shared with Santana of course.
"Sure. I'm driving though. The fact that you're here from God knows where and in one piece is nothing short of a miracle"
Santana willingly hops on the back end of the seat and waits for Quinn who is shivering and gets on. She's about to start driving when Santana stands and pulls off her jacket.
Before she can ask what her ridiculous companion is doing, the jacket is wrapped around her and she is being prompted with oddly endearing gestures to raise her arms for the sleeves.
When Santana is satisfied that Quinn is at least warm she allows the vehicle to move.
The music from Santana's phone is still playing as they drive around the largely residential area. They stop at a 7-11 for a slushie, Santana shockingly can not only stand but remember Quinn's favourite flavour and pay for them with money she seems to have stuffed into her bra.
They sit in the parking lot, side by side against the mower with the moonlight shining down on them staring at some graffiti trying to decipher it.
After much debate they have narrowed the options down to
"I like big butts" and "I liked bit ducks"
Quinn decides Santana's interpretation is influenced by what is obviously on her mind. Santana's hand is yet to leave her posterior since she bent over to tie up the shoes Santana had removed from her own feet and given to Quinn to wear when she got cold feet.
"You wanna know something sad?"
Santana nods seeming thoughtful.
"Even though I'm pretty sure you were only being drunk and stupid when you said it, this is weirdly the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me"
Santana shakes her head.
"Nu-uh. Gayberry gave you gardenia which is flower language for secret love. It might have been in Finn's giant, huge…massive hands when you got it but I hearded Rachel tell him to get it."
Quinn's heart stops for a second. There is a possibility Rachel loves her back?
She decides here and now isn't the time for that conversation.
"Flower language huh? So what does uh", she examines the area around her. She spots a wild weed with a yellowish flower growing and decides that will have to do. She crosses the gravelled gas-tainted ground and picks it from the ground.
Not missing Santana's face drop as her hand is disconnected from what had been whispered moments ago as "Dat ass"
"What's this mean oh smart one?"
Santana shrugs with a weird smile.
"I don't know but for us, it's….it's us. It's reckless moments, unspoken love and nonsense."
Quinn smiles and wraps her arms around Santana's waist, resting her face on flannel clad shoulder.
"That's absolutely ridiculous. I love it"
Slushies cups are carelessly discarded on the ground as they swiftly remount the lawn mower.
Santana stays the night in Quinn's shared dorm room. Fortunately her roommate is rather understanding and without being asked, motions with an imaginary zip across her lips to not tell
Sharing a single bed between the two of them at the best of times is a struggle but with drunk Santana it's almost impossible. She kicks, squirms and wriggles all while keeping a tight hold of Quinn for cuddles and sleepily mumbling phrases that sound like "My play thing".
Quinn isn't quite sure what she thinks of that.
Santana is gone before Quinn wakes.
In her place is a note, in Santana's chicken scratch writing on the back of an assignment overview.
Quinn
I'm so sorry, I don't remember anything but I remember getting drunk and next thing I know I'm here, in your bed and….well fuck I'm embarrassed.
I really hope I didn't do anything too stupid or fuck up our relationship, I sort of need you.
Fro-
Sincer-
Love Santana x
P.S You looked cold so I sort of dressed you. Don't hate me.
Quinn tiredly sits up. She is indeed partially dressed, it's obvious though that Santana had tried and failed to put pants on her, it seems that her apparent shameless friend was too bashful to bother lifting her pants up to at least her hips and they are sat awkwardly just below her buttocks.
She notes that she is also wearing Santana's flannel shirt. A million jokes fly through her mind but none are verbalised because she is actually surprised at this gesture of kindness.
Their sleepovers from their youth consisted of small mercies such as an extra corner of blanket or if she was really lucky and Santana was feeling too lazy, Santana would sort of drag herself over and resume her sleep laying atop Quinn.
A personal highlight for Quinn that really should've been a rather noticeable rainbow hint to her but at the time she thought it was simple gratitude for rare comfort.
"Their weed" which sounds rather shady but isn't, is laminated soon after a light breakfast. She smirks as the flattened plastic sheet lays in her leather bound journal.
The note from Santana sits on the page across, glued neatly to the page with a wallet sized photo of the two of them from graduation sitting in the corner.
This she decides, will be one of their pages in this book of curious endeavours and never ending questions.
Only Santana would have her staring at a common weed with a feeling of giddiness that she feels simultaneously shameless, excited and somewhat guilty about.
Quinn sends a text to her friend. Deeply desiring a timely reply.
To: Santana
I have questions, you owe me answers. Lunch today? X
Her roommate, Ruby sits up in her bed. Her red hair is messed up.
"You know there's gonna be questions from anyone who saw you with her last night?"
Quinn shrugs
"They have no proof I know her. I can just say I was taking one for the team and silencing a raving lunatic."
"Well apart from her seeming to know you, you rode off with her. That says something coming from the most reserved girl on campus"
Quinn glares. She is not entirely sure but she thinks she senses a betrayal in the air.
"I'm not gonna say anything alright. If I get asked, I was asleep all last night and woke up plucky and bright eyed AFTER she woke up, freaked the freak out, kissed you goodbye while you slept and waddled away shoeless"
Quinn's eyebrows shoot up.
"She what?"
Ruby shakes her head and rolls her eyes playfully.
"Well if you will direct your eyes to the foot of your bed you will find two of the least maintained work boots I've ever seen in my life"
"Yeah she was going for the Bender look but…she kissed me?"
Ruby leans back, resting against the wall adjacent to her bed.
"Look her hair blocked out exactly where she slobbered on you but she planted her lips somewhere on your face so….I don't want to make shit weird with her. She seems to mean well"
Quinn purses her lips thinking about this information.
Her phone buzzes, Ruby picks it up before she can and smiles.
"From Santana, Not today but how about we do dinner tomorrow? My treat. We can talk all you want."
Quinn nods, still seeming distracted.
"Girlfriend just got a date"
Quinn stares at the floor
"I'm quite sure that "Girlfriend's" date has a girlfriend"
Ruby shrugs and throws the phone gently onto Quinn's lap.
"Guess we'll see won't we?"
She winks in an attempt to lighten Quinn's nerves.
"Yes we will"