Takes place 5 years post glee-graduation. Santana's living with Quinn, who is in grad school. I like to think that if they really tried, the two of them would be amazing friends and its that thought that led me to this.
Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing.
Chapter One
In which Santana and Quinn are besties and Santana realizes a little something about herself
Santana doesn't know whether to be pleased or royally pissed to find out that in the past five years her first love dated man after man but never another woman. She finds this out through Quinn, who found out on facebook (looks like Brit finally learned how to use the computer, she'd joked), and her initial response was explosive. Quinn listened patiently to her best friend as she ranted via Skype about Brittany considering her just an experiment and how she probably never really loved her and cried and cried and cried. Later she would blame her tears on biology and go on another rant about the menstrual cycle, but Quinn just hid her smirk and let her.
Then she felt a bit smug, realizing that she seduced a straight girl. She wasted no time informing Quinn of this when they met up for their weekly coffee.
"All these years, Quinn, all these years you doubted my awesomeness. I should get a freaking trophy or something. Or one of those huge pins or, like, a sash. Don't think I wouldn't wear that shit everywhere."
Quinn, predictably, rolled her eyes. "Please don't. I'd hate to have to publically deny being friends with you again."
Santana flicked muffin crumbs from the sub-par blueberry muffin (the one she got for free after setting a rather terrifying glare at the new barista for being out of banana-nut) and let out an unladylike snort.
"Don't hate. I'll just have to add you to the sash. 'Santana Lopez: seducer of heterosexual females/Quinn Fabray's BFF.'…I might have to work on the length, but whatev."
"…yeah. Anyways, the reason I even brought up Brit the other day wasn't so you could figure out another way to inflate your ego. It's just, well, you've been single for a while now and-don't give me that look! You haven't had a girlfriend in almost a year and they've all been the same: tall blondes who don't know their ass from their elbow."
Santana crossed her arms. "That's not even true! Sarah was crazy smart!"
"She was also a dancer. Santana, it's been five years. I understand what it's like to hold a flame for your first love-" Santana snorted again, " –shut up, anyways, you can't keep looking for another Brittany. There's this girl in my one of my classes that I think you'd get on with. I told her a bit about you and I think-"
"Whoa whoa whoa, stop right there. You, Quinn Fabray, are trying to set me up on a date?"
Quinn didn't like that mocking look Santana's face had set into. "Yes."
Santana leaned back in her chair, amused. "And you, Quinn Fabray, thought I'd actually do it?"
"Well, yeah. I mean I know I haven't got the best track record or anything-" snort "-shut up, I just think you'd really like her."
Santana thought about it for all of four seconds before she reached her final decision. "Nope. Not happening."
Quinn sighed, knowing it was a lost cause. "Fine." She said tersely.
"Enough about my love life, or lack thereof, how's Nate? Going pretty well, if the hickeys you failed to hide are anything to go by."
Quinn's long term boyfriend, Nathan Stark (who Santana suspected Quinn only started dating because of her secret Iron Man obsession, the dork) was possibly the sweetest man to ever exist. Santana had been weary of him at first due to the age difference (he was a good eight years older) but he brought out the absolute best in Quinn, so she had to approve.
"He's perfect, as usual." Santana smiled at the blush that rose to her friend's cheeks. Three and half years together and they still acted like giddy 13 year olds, all hand holding and sweet kisses. God, did she want that.
Wait, what?
Quinn didn't seem to notice her friend's inner turmoil as she sipped her cappuccino. Santana's eyes had gone wide at her realization and when Quinn looked up, worry overtook her pretty face.
"What? What is it? Are you okay?" Quinn's eyes darted around the room as if her friend's distress had physically manifested itself in the little café.
"It's nothing, I just-"realized how lonely I am? Want someone perfect too? "It's nothing. Just got lost in my thoughts, is all."
Quinn looked skeptical, but didn't push it. Lord, Quinn was such a mom sometimes.
Oh, wait. Right. Not funny.
They sat in amicable silence for the next few minutes. Or as silent as they could be when Quinn was somehow loudly projecting the fact that she wanted to ask once more if Santana was okay.
"Maybe," Santana began cautiously, "maybe I'll take you up on that offer. The blind date thing."
Quinn bristled with joy. "Oh, you're going to love her! She hilarious and gorgeous and totally awesome. I'll set this whole thing up and it'll be perfect!" Her ecstatic smile simmered down a bit as she reached across the table to grab her friend's hand. "I know this kind of thing isn't really you and you'd have no trouble getting a girl if you actually tried, but…I just want you to be happy, 'Tana, and I think you will be when you stop chasing the past."
Santana squeezed Quinn's hand gratefully. Quinn means well, she always does (post-high school Quinn, that is), but this doesn't bode well. Santana and dating were never two concepts that seemed to mesh well. However, Quinn had been the same way until Nathan. Who knows, maybe whatsherface will end up being her soul mate or whatever.
I need a drink.
Quinn did not have the best track record when it comes to dating. She knows this, she accepts this, and she prays to God every night that she won't screw things up with Nate. She's almost stupidly happy and honestly can't believe her luck, but she knows you've got to kiss a few frogs before you find your prince. Or princess, in Santana's case.
Quinn had cheated, been pregnant, cheated on, stolen from, cheated on again, and even hit once.
Santana had been, in some shape or form, there through it all. In high school, Santana had been more of a behind the scenes type of friend; a rival in the eyes of the school, and a shoulder to cry on when it counted.
Their friendship was off and on since freshman year, but it forged into something like sisterhood when college rolled around. Santana had been lost, her dreams of stardom a taunting ideal she fears she'll never reach. She'd just broken up with Britney- amicably, she claimed-and justifiably terrified and more than a little broken hearted, she found her way to Quinn's apartment just off campus of the ever prestigious Yale University. A couple weeks worth of crashing on the couch turned into a delightfully domestic situation as Santana got a job and Quinn's roommate who apparently was a deranged homophobe moved out and just like that, they were roommates.
Santana brought home girl after girl and Quinn watched with a wary eye as they came and went, trying not to notice their resemblance to a one Brittany S. Pierce. Santana never cared too much about these girls; they were just a means to an end as she once told Quinn, throwing in an exaggeratedly saucy wink. Quinn just rolled her eyes.
Santana became her rock. She was there after Quinn had caught Ryan with a skanky sorority girl, she was there when Devon tried to pressure her into bed after only a week of seeing each other, and she was there for Seth. Seth who seemed so lovely and who took her to the nicest places and bought her presents. Seth who didn't take disagreements well. Seth who hit her.
If Santana hadn't already solidified herself as Quinn's closest friend and family in all but blood, the Seth situation set it in stone. She had walked into their small apartment just after it happened; took in Seth's face, flushed with anger and Quinn on the ground, purple blooming on her flushed cheek. Santana had launched viciously at Seth and attempted to strangle him with her small hands. The police had been called, and in the end Seth received a restraining order and Santana a half hearted reprimand as well as a nudge and a wink of approval from the arresting officer.
Quinn vividly remembers the hug her friend drew her into when the dust had settled. They were both a bit teary eyed and Santana had whispered into her hair how nobody, nobody touches her best friend. She also said something about Lima Heights adjacent, but it was still the nicest thing anyone had every done for her.
Quinn had all but given up on dating until one day she had been unceremoniously kicked out of her apartment (sexiled, she called it) and literally ran into Nathan halfway through the door of Starbucks. It was an accident and completely her fault as she had been preoccupied texting Rachel who was going through yet another Finn crisis. The next thing she knew, she was on the ground and his coffee was at his feet. Quinn's natural reflex was anger, mostly due to the pain of scraping her hands on the cement, but it all fizzled away when the stranger she had collided with began fussing over her. He'd put Neosporin he happened to have (med school, he shrugged as explanation) on the shallow cuts on her palms and she insisted on replacing his coffee.
He ended up buying both of them caramel macchiatos and Quinn was done for.
Nathan is Quinn's perfect match. He knows her mind, body, and soul. He knows who she is, who she used to be, and wants to be a part of who she will be. Contrary to Santana's belief, they fight and bicker and occasionally sulk. They always, always make up. Quinn is blissfully in love and surreally happy.
She just wants the same for Santana, and if Quinn's got to send a few frogs her way then so be it.