Alright, so I'm submitting this story for Day 1 of Quinntana Week 2014, even though I've posted it a long time ago on Valentine's Day. Still, I hope you all enjoy this!

This fic takes place after 4x14 I Do. Like almost a year after, so everything is only cannon up till 4x14

Oh and the big chunks in italics are memories, just to keep that clear! :)

R&R~


"Santana!" The words broke into incoherent whimpers, moans, demands that she knew only she could fulfil.

"Yes, Quinnie? What do you want? Tell me…" Her tongue gave an experimental lick to the swelling clit in front of her, replacing the ghosting fingers that had been there only seconds ago. She heard no reply except for more moans as she moved her tongue in a circular motion, applying the perfect pressure—not too little, but little enough to keep Quinn wanting more.

"Oh fuck!"

She continued her ministrations, feeling her head being pushed further in between Quinn's legs. Fingers dug through her hair, almost yanking at it occasionally. Quinn was almost as desperate as she was.

A few more licks and another moan, followed by a muffled chain of curses mixed with her name, and Lucy Quinn Fabray had been officially unraveled by Santana Lopez.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck! I'm late!" Santana ran out of the house, her phone in one hand, her purse in the other, and a piece of bread between her teeth.

"Be back for dinner!" Kurt called from somewhere in the 'house', as Santana ran down the flight of stairs, plunging her heels into the sidewalk and desperately looking for a taxi to take her to her 'date' with Rachel Berry. She had promised to be there for Rachel's dress rehearsal for a show today, and unless the cab was about to fly at least 90 miles per hour through a zero-traffic road, she was likely going to be late. And the words 'late' and 'Berry' didn't fit well into a sentence together, especially when a stage was involved.

As soon as she climbed into the backseat of a cab and gave directions, she took a look at her phone for the first time that morning. Well, afternoon. It was a little past twelve already. She saw a couple of missed calls and text messages and she scrolled through the list.

Gracie. Probably another failing attempt at a booty call.

River. The guy at the bar maybe? Or was it the extension program? Whatever.

An unknown number. Junk.

Rachel. Twice. Whoops.

Quinn. Quinn?

Santana quickly touched the message on her phone, only to find a notification for a voicemail. She dialed a quick few buttons and held the phone to her ear.

A familiar sweet voice came on. Sweet, but sad.

"Hey, Tana… Can you come over tomorrow night? Like after Valentine's Day? I gotta spend it with Finn and all, but it'd be really nice to see you after. Give me a call and let me know?"

Something sounded wrong and something felt wrong. Quinn had probably been in yet another fight with Finn.

Santana rolled her eyes as the thought.

Ever since the Valentines' Day wedding disaster a year ago, with a very fortunate drunk four-or-five-time thing with Quinn, the pair had kept in contact. They had exchanged uncountable phone calls, spent time together on weekends and during holidays, regularly Skype'd, and were better friends than they ever had been in their highschool years.

Santana had been the first to know when a certain dick-head named Finn had set his eyes on his hot blonde ex once again and had asked her out. She was the first to know when Quinn said yes. Santana had to admit it shocked her, but since this was Quinn's decision, she had supported it (while trying to prove that Finn was a complete dick in the long run, of course).

The traffic outside was honking and making a lot of noise. It did little to make Santana feel a little more at ease, and did everything to make her want to punch something or someone even more.

She sighed as she returned to her thoughts, impatiently tapping her fingers on the leather seat. Her disdain for Finn didn't only stem from the way he treated women, or the way he practically outed her in highschool. Her disdain for Finn stemmed from the way that he had suddenly wormed his way into Quinn's heart and by doing so, had practically thrown all of her own chances out the window.

Santana tried to be discreet about it, and had not openly confessed it to anyone—obviously not Quinn—but ever since that damned failure of a wedding, she had found herself with a tiny bit of affection for a certain blonde. No, it wasn't Brittany this time—thank god she was over her—but it was Quinn Fabray.

Straight-as-an-arrow Quinn Fabray.

Of course, to make things more complicated, Quinn had very specifically said that drunken night was probably more of a 'one-time thing' for her (though it turned out to be a four-or-five time thing, as Santana wasn't too sure when Quinn had passed out—just before or after her fifth orgasm), meaning that she was still pretty much straight, despite the night of passion and pleasure she had experienced. It wasn't called 'experimenting' for nothing.

Now to make matters worse, she was dating a guy. That thought didn't sit well with Santana at all.

As she chewed through the stale bread she had, she sighed out loud. She tried to remind herself that she was Quinn's 'best friend' now, and because of that, she had to show support to Quinn, even though she was now dating an insensitive bastard. But it fucking hurt.

Talk about being friend-zoned.

There was so much Santana didn't know. But one thing she did know was that none of Quinn's boyfriends had ever treated her right, loved her right. Not Puck, not Sam, and definitely not Finn. None of those three could ever compare to the love one Santana Lopez could offer.

The cab came to a halt in front of the building that Rachel was having her dress rehearsal at. Hastily paying the fare, Santana ran up the steps and burst through the doors, turning left and making a beeline to Hall A.

Santana was not the only one who had started late. The whole crew had began their practice about 15 minutes after the set time. The first number had already begun, though, as Santana stepped into the hall, but luckily, Rachel wasn't in the first number. She knew Rachel wasn't in it, because this number was one she had never heard before, and she was almost too certain that Rachel had sung each and every of her parts (and many of the other parts) in all the songs she performed in at the top of her lungs at least thrice in the house.

Santana quietly took a seat at the back of hall, near the center. If she hadn't been so drunk the other night, she most definitely would not have drunkenly promised Rachel to come to this stupid musical. Then again, she'd never really admit to anyone she didn't really mind.

As the second number began, Rachel's voice came across loud and clear from the stage, and when she saw Santana, she broke into a bigger smile than she already had on her face. Santana lifted her hand to give a tiny—and somewhat flirty—wave.

She sat through the whole rehearsal, trying, and failing, to push all thoughts of Quinn to the very back of her head. Santana tried her best to focus on Rachel and the rest of the cast, but with that little Quinn-sounding voice in the back of her head bugging her, it was a little hard.

"S, should I wear yellow or pink today?"

"It's just a fucking first date with an ex. Which makes it not-so-much a first date. Why bother?"

"But—" Quinn knit her eyebrows together, pouting a little.

Santana could only sigh in defeat. She shifted her position on the edge of Quinn's dorm bed, crossing her left leg over her right. "I think you should go with yellow. It'll look beautiful on ya." Anything and everything would look beautiful on Quinn.

Unexpectedly, Quinn pulled her shirt above her head, revealing her bare back. Santana's eyes widened slightly, before she forced herself to turn her gaze away. As many times as she had seen Quinn naked, both in highschool and after… ever since the wedding, it had been more than tempting.

"Santana, my bra won't clasp properly. Or I can't do it anyways. Can you help?"

"Woah, flawless head bitch can't do her own bra?" her signature smirk graced her lips as she stood up from the bed and walked to Quinn. Smirking was the one mask she could always put on to hide herself.

Resisting an urge to just rip off the half-clasped bra and take Quinn against the wall, Santana let her slender fingers fix Quinn's bra properly. Her fingers unintentionally brushed along Quinn's spine as she finished, and she could have sworn Quinn flinched.

With a silent sigh, she took her seat at the edge of the bed again.

"Wait, Tana! I need you to zip up my dress too!"

"How do you survive in this dorm alone, Q."

"I can zip up myself but it's a bother, so if you're here, you can do the honors."

"Oh, I'm plenty honored." Her voice dripped with sarcasm, but inside, she did feel a little honored. Pride was a really weird thing. She felt strangely proud of 'having' Quinn, even though Quinn was preparing for a date with a guy. And of all guys, Finn fucking Hudson. The thought made her want to vomit.

Her fingers moved swiftly, pulling that small piece of metal up the zipper on Quinn's back. She took a step back as Quinn whirled around.

"How do I look?"

"You look like a child who's excited about going to her own execution because she doesn't know what that word means," Santana mused, feigning a look of boredom on her face.

"No, c'mon S, how do I look?" Quinn drew out the word 'S' so it sounded more like 'ass'.

"You're fucking stunning." The words slipped out from Santana's lips and it was much too late to reel them back in.

"Um… Ew." Quinn's eyes told Santana she was only teasing. But somehow it stung, and it stung bad. Surely, if Finn had made that comment, Quinn would have been giddy with laughter. Flattered.

"Well, more like… beautiful." Santana's voice trailed off, realizing her save could perhaps prove to have more devastating effects than her original statement.

She looked away, fixing her eyes on a stray sock on the floor in the corner of the room. Santana could hear her own heartbeat in her ears, and then there was Quinn's breathing. Fuck this.

"Um… thanks…" Quinn sounded uncertain, but when Santana looked up, she found Quinn staring at her, a blush on her cheeks. That made Santana blush as well.

"So… do you want me to pick you up after your date?"

"I… well… Finn probably wants a goodnight kiss."

Santana felt bile rise in her throat. She tried to tell herself that Quinn wasn't kissing any Finn on their 'first date'. But she knew. Instead of starting a meaningless attempt of protest, she swallowed her disappointment along with the sick feeling. She wasn't in any position to comment. She simply forced a smile that screamed fake. "Shouldn't you be going then?"

"Yeah…" Quinn's gaze lingered curiously on Santana's suddenly darkened countenance, "You could wait here for me though… I know it's kind of my fault I didn't tell you last week that you'd be coming to visit on my first date… "

"No, it's fine," Santana let herself fall onto Quinn's bed, "I'll take a nap. Just don't take too long. We still have tomorrow to hang out right?"

"Uh…" Quinn was slipping on her heels, her hand on the wall for balance. She turned to look at Santana, who had her eyes closed, "About that… Finn asked me out for lunch…"

Santana's eyes shot open, but she rolled herself over so she was facing the wall and not Quinn. She gave up trying to cover up the disdain in her voice with sarcasm,"Oh, you can go, it's fine. I'll book the appointment for your dinner tomorrow with your fucking secretary."

"Santana…"

"No, it's fine. Go, you're running late already."

There was a brief pause, followed by a soft sigh,"See you later tonight, S."

"Bye, Q." She heard the door click shut. Her heart was throbbing with pain, and a single rebellious tear rolled down her cheek. "So much for sisters before misters."

"Santana! How was it?"

Santana found herself caught unaware as a blur of brown hair and a ridiculous-looking costume jumped onto her lap. She shook herself free of the memories and smiled, trying to push Rachel off her lap so she could stand up.

"Hey, Berry. Pretty good job~" She flashed a smile, even though she hadn't been paying too much attention to the rehearsal.

"Pretty good only?" Rachel frowned, a tinge of worry clouding her face.

"You know I don't give glorious compliments, future broadway star."

Rachel grinned at the nickname, deciding that it was a huge improvement from 'dwarf' or 'wannabe diva from hell'.

"Do you have plans for the weekend?"

"Uh, yeah, I'm probably going over to Quinn's."

Rachel, in all her over-dramatic-ness, faked a look of pure shock, "No you are not! What about Kurt and me?"

"I thought Lady Hummel might want one less person in the house so he could turn his bedroom into a sex-cave with Pretty Pony."

Since the failure of a wedding, Kurt and Blaine had been hooking up on and off. Santana could tell there was chemistry and the certain possibility for more, but Rachel just automatically assumed that this was simply a series of flings for Kurt's entertainment.

"Then that leaves me all alone trying to shield my ears!" Rachel promptly plopped down on the seat the Santana previously occupied.

Santana crossed her arms in front of her chest, "I'm sure your singing could drown that out."

"Please stay, Santana!"

"Unless you're planning some lesbian sexcapade with me, I'll have to pass."

"Well, um."

"No, Berry, it's not happening. I'm going to Quinn's."

"Doesn't she have… Finn?" Rachel cocked her head to the side. The name felt like daggers in Santana's heart.

"Yeah, but she says she wants me to stay the weekend with her… so I will?"

Rachel studied Santana for a moment, "San…"

At that moment the director shouted a loud "Berry!" which made Rachel jump right out her seat. Santana watched as Rachel looked curiously at her for a moment, before shrugging it off and prancing off back to stage for a debrief. Santana waved, letting Rachel know that she'd be leaving, and Rachel nodded as she heaved herself onto the stage.

As Santana exited the building which she had entered with such haste, she inhaled, taking in the scent of the city air (which smelt pretty bad, honestly). Her heels clicked loudly as she walked down the stairs.

The chilly air of New York in late-winter made her crave something warm to hold. Like Quinn's hand. But that was impossible.

Deciding to get a late lunch, as the three-hour rehearsal made her stomach growl wildly, Santana walked along the cement sidewalk, hoping to find a cafe that looked at least mildly satisfying. With Valentine's Day just around the corner again, the shop windows were decorated in ridiculous amounts of pink hearts and red cupids. As she had so often told Quinn, Valentine's day was invented by breeders to sell cheap chocolate and false hope, and she hated it.

Those words brought a very familiar memory to her head. Wasn't it Quinn who had responded by telling her that "women without men were like fish without bicycles"? Santana remembered that little hope blossoming in her heart at those words. False hope. Perfect for Valentine's Day.

If Quinn really believed in that, what the hell was she doing with her fishy bicycle-riding Finn?

As she passed through yet another shop window, her eyes caught a periwinkle blur. She stopped in her tracks, turning to look. Her fingers grazed the large glass, and the eyes of a teddy bear shimmered in the light back at her.

"Oh my god! It's so cute!"

"It's really big, too."

"I bet it's fluffy."

"Are we going in the shop or are we just gonna stand at the shop window looking like dorks?"

"Come!" Quinn grabbed Santana's hand, pulling her towards the entrance of the shop, a small bell tinkling as the door was pushed open. She didn't let go of Santana's hand when they were inside. Not like Santana minded.

A slim grey-haired woman walked towards the pair from the back of the shop. Her hair was pulled back in a bun, and her face wore a sweet smile. "Merry Christmas, dears," Her voice was soft and cheery, full of holiday-spirit already. Her red sweater with a reindeer reminded Santana of Rachel Berry's highschool closet. That just proved her right that Rachel dressed like an old woman sometimes.

"Oh hi!" Quinn piped and smiled at the woman, "Do you own this place?" Santana could tell Quinn was really excited. It was kinda cute.

The woman let out a low chuckle, "Yes, dear, I do. It used to be my mother's. It'll be my daughter's in a few years. Do you like it?"

Santana couldn't help but notice that Quinn's hand was still in her's. It made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

"I love it!"

"Are you two young'uns finding a Christmas gift for each other? It's rare to take your lover for Christmas shopping~"

At those words, Santana found herself a little defensive, but the old woman's wrinkled smile made her feel a little safer. At least this woman wasn't judgemental.

"Um… we're not… really together," Quinn smiled, letting go of Santana's hand immediately. Santana remained silent, inwardly cringing at the loss of contact.

"Oh, pardon me then, dears. I just thought you would be. You two look sweet together, and my 'gaydar' is usually never wrong," she made her way to the cashier desk with a half-smirk that resembled Santana's, "My name is Elsa, by the way."

"I'm Santana, and this is Quinn," Santana offered a weak smile, "We're here because this kiddo likes your teddy bear."

"Santana, I'm no kid!"

Santana rolled her eyes, "You sure act like one sometimes."

Quinn snorted, "Like you don't."

"Oh, hell, I don't!"

"Feel free to look around, then."Elsa was chuckling to herself as she opened a brown-papered notebook and picked up an old ink pen. She dipped the tip in a small jar of black ink and began drawing on the paper. Quinn watched her with interest, standing on her toes in her obvious attempt of spying.

That of course, did not go unnoticed by Elsa. "Darling, why don't you come over here. I'll show you what I'm doing. It's for my daughter's wedding."

Quinn curiously walked over, dragging Santana by the arm, coming up behind the counter. The brown paper held an elaborate design and a couple of carefully calligraphed words: 'Anita and Lily invite you to share their happy day'.

Santana felt Quinn tense as her eyes scanned over the words.

"That's them," Elsa pointed to a framed photo of two women on a wall covered in photographs of all ages, "Lily should be about the same age as you two."

Quinn and Santana shifted their gaze to follow Elsa's pointing finger. Santana found herself smiling softly. Quinn seemed even more tense.

"If you two are together, it's okay to let the world know," Elsa continued, a twinkle in her eye.

"We're not," Quinn answered a little too quickly, letting out a small nervous laugh, her voice, however, devoid of emotion, "She's only my bestie. I have a boyfriend."

Only her bestie. Santana smiled, nodding in agreement, feeling a part of her die inside.

Elsa laughed again, "Still, you to are cute."

"How much is the teddy bear in the window?" Santana blurted, feeling a little desperate about changing the topic.

"Periwinkle? Oh, he's not for sale, darling. Sorry."

"Aww… but he's so cute!"

"He's a gift, Quinn, so I'm afraid I'll have to say no. You could look around the shop though. I'll do a 20% off for you two~" Everything about Elsa looked kind. Even rejection.

Within seconds, Quinn was already peering at all the handmade items scattered around the shop. Santana was a little less excited, looking at the many photos that decorated the wall, seeing many smiling couples—gay, lesbian, straight, and everything else in between—and eyeing Quinn from the corner of her eye.

A small little part of her wondered if a photo of Quinn and her would ever stand on this wall.

There was a familiar ring of a bell as Santana pushed open the door. No sooner was she inside, she heard a voice call her fondly, "Santana! It's been a while!"

She looked up to find the smiling woman again, looking a little thinner, a little older and a little more worn out than two weeks ago, when Santana had last paid a visit.

"Hi, Elsa! I was in the area so I thought I'd drop by!"

"Your little blonde friend's not in town, I suppose?"

"No…" Santana shook her head with a sigh, "She's probably with her boyfriend." She tried to focus her attention on the new items stocked in the shelves.

Elsa eyed Santana with a knowing smile before turning aside to offer her a seat behind the counter.

"It's Valentine's Day tomorrow. You in here for last minute shopping for a special someone?"

"Not really," Santana mumbled, finding herself looking into a pair of sincere brown eyes.

"Santana, don't lie. You are here for someone special."

"You read me like an open book, Elsa, it's not fair!" She huffed with a roll of her eyes, "I thought I was befriending a cookie-baking granny, and instead I've found myself a psychologist!"

"Maybe it's for the better," she held a paper cup of warm tea towards Santana, who took it and warmed her fingertips on it. "You have a few minutes today? Maybe you could stay and talk to your cookie-baking granny?" She smiled warmly.

To Santana, Elsa had become more or less a close friend. Despite her age, Elsa proved no less witty than Santana. Santana liked that. Besides, Elsa was understanding, caring, and felt a little like a real grandmother to her. It was nice, since she had been disowned by her own grandmother…

"I actually baked some cookies earlier, fancy any?"

Santana took a seat on the stool beside the cashier and found a jar full of heart-shaped cookies pushed towards her.

"Sure," she smiled as she set the cup down, "How are you feeling today?" Her fingers found themselves in the cookie jar. She took one and bit into it, savoring the taste. They were sweet, and it only reminded her of how much Quinn would have loved these cookies.

The old woman's chuckle was one that Santana had long grown used to, and secretly treasured, "Oh, the usual. Selling a few things here and there. Spending more time with ink and paper than people. You?" She smiled, her tired eyes twinkling as she looked at Santana.

Santana had always found that optimistic twinkle in the elder's eyes a little comforting and encouraging. It was the unspoken support that made her day a little easier to live.

"I just came from Berry's rehearsal," she explained, "It's in the hall a couple of blocks down?"

"Ah. Rachel Berry, correct?"

"You're magical when it comes to names," Santana laughed.

"Seventy years worth of names are all surprisingly stuck in here," Elsa tapped her her with a teasing smile. The pair sighed softly, taking in a sip of the tea.

"So… Periwinkle's out again for the season?"

Soft chuckles rang through the shop again, "Yes, he is. It keeps the kids coming in, you know? Have I ever told you how Periwinkle came to me?" Somehow, Elsa suddenly looked a little younger. It wasn't anything in particular, not that her hair turned black, or her wrinkles disappeared. Santana concluded it must have been something in her eyes, her heart.

"Not really, but I have time to listen to a story today?"

"Ah. Well, I'll tell you if you tell me whether it's true or not that you like Quinn."

What? "I…" Santana was forced to look away. She could tell Elsa was still watching her, and with Elsa, any lie would become no lie. Elsa could always see right through her. She sighed deeply, having finally come to terms with herself at her own feelings only a few weeks ago, "I do. But it's useless. She's dating Finn the bastard."

"Language, Santana."

"Sorry," she mumbled half-heartedly.

"You're a lot like me, dear." Elsa took another sip out of her mug, "I loved when I was young."

Santana offered a soft laugh as she cringed inside. Loved. How strong was the word 'love', even when it had been a moment so long ago that it had simply become 'loved'. "You married, of course you loved!"

"No… not that…" Elsa set her mug of hot tea down, opening a drawer in front of her and pulling out a singular faded photograph, "See her? I loved her. Love, really." She pushed the photo across to Santana, "She was my best friend. Periwinkle was a gift from her… He's about fifty now… still kept in wonderful condition though," Elsa's voice was suddenly choked with emotion, and Santana found herself staring at the young Elsa and the unnamed woman in faded hues. They looked so happy together, smiling. "You know how times were. I couldn't confess." she let out a playful chuckle, "That girl took my first kiss, just for fun. We were only kids."

Santana looked up to find Elsa staring at the photo fondly, smiling with such nostalgia.

"I would have given everything to spend one more day with her," Elsa raised her gaze to Santana. Their eyes met. "But it was different then. I had to marry Harry. He's a nice man, but he's not her. That's his biggest flaw. She married, too. We all had to. Wasn't really a choice." A flash of anger darkened her eyes, "Her husband wasn't the nice type, though. Alcoholic, gambler." For a moment, she pursed her lips together as though to gather her own thoughts so she could mentally stab the man, watch him writhe in pain even in his grave. Then her dark thoughts gave way to another wave of memories, and a smile reappeared on her face, "But we still kept regular visits, you know? Visiting each other with pies. Portia made delicious pies."

Portia. Beautiful name.

Santana could see how fond Elsa was of all these memories. It was really sweet, actually. It was as though she had remembered seventy years like it was just yesterday. A fresh love, a fresh bloom.

"And then a year later, she fell sick. Some say it was the abuse. Some say it was from missing someone she really loved… I was at her bedside all the time, praying the same prayers over and over again." Elsa paused, evidently admiring the girl in the photo. "Fourteen months…" She bit her lip with a tired sigh, "She never got better."

The ending was abrupt, and Santana found herself mute for a moment. When she finally found her voice, she could only mumble, "I'm sorry…" She wasn't sure why Elsa was telling her all this, but she reached out to take the Elsa's hand, "She's surely someone special."

"She is. And I don't regret having loved her. But I do have regrets, though. Sometimes I wish I fought a little harder. I wish I maybe told her. I wish I ran away with her. Maybe she'd have lived a little longer. She died young. She died never knowing." Elsa had teary eyes now. "Worst part was that when I look back… She wasn't too discreet about loving me either…"

Santana sat in silence as Elsa dabbed her tears with a single tissue with the hand that Santana wasn't holding. A part of her wondered what exactly Elsa was trying to tell her with the story. It could be a story, but it surely could mean more…

Elsa's voice came unexpectedly, cutting Santana from her mess of thoughts,"Quinn's not entirely against having a relationship with you."

Oh. She looked up to find Elsa staring into her eyes, and though they were still teary, they wore a sense of ferocity in them. Elsa was unafraid, even at the loss.

But Santana was scared of loss. "She… she told me that it was a one-time thing…"

"People change their minds…" Elsa sighed heavily, "Are you seeing her anytime soon?" She pulled her hand from Santana's but patted her on the back of her hand reassuringly. Elsa could sense Santana's fear. Like Santana, she could sense fear from a mile away.

"Tomorrow."

"On your least favorite day of the year?" Elsa laughed softly although pain still lined her ageing eyes, "Was it your idea or her's?"

"She invited me over… said she wanted to spend some time with me after her date?"

"You must have a small part of her heart, dear." Elsa stood up, straightening her back, and Santana did the same, "You know what. Lily's never fancied Periwinkle. She has the most irrational fear of teddy bears. I'll sell him to you if you promise me he'll find his way into Quinn's arms."

"No, Elsa! You couldn't! It's the only thing you have left from her!"

"Santana, listen. When you love, everything that matters is here," she landed a finger on Santana's chest, just where her heart lay, "And that's really the first time I've ever told anyone about Portia. It's nice to let it out… Besides, I still have this photo and all those memories etched into my heart."

"No, Elsa… even if you are to sell it, I should be paying more!"

"Santana, it really isn't the money. You deserve a chance. You deserve something I never had. I'll sell Periwinkle for 30 dollars if you promise me a photo of you and Quinn with him!"

"Elsa…"

"Come give your cookie-granny a hug if you agree to that," Elsa's smile warmed Santana from within. She hesitated for a moment before she thew her arms at the shorter woman, hugging her tight.

"Thank you, Elsa."

"So you had balls after all."

"Elsa, language!" Santana laughed playfully as she pulled away.

Elsa could roll her eyes just like Santana. "I thought they went into hiding, Santana. I know you're a fierce girl, just like me."

"Thanks, Elsa…"

"Come visit more often, yea?"

"I promise! But… Elsa…?"

"Yes?" The woman was standing up, taking her time as she walked towards the display window.

"Why is this photo not on your wall?" Santana watched as Elsa stopped in her steps.

A heavy silence hung in the air for a minute.

Then Elsa turned around, "You're right. I've been scared, regretful… but our love was real love, so why shouldn't it be put on the wall?" She offered a small smile, "Thank you, Santana. Would you like to find a frame in the shop and hang it up for me?"

"Alright," Santana chose a faint purple frame etched with birds and flowers from the vast collection in the shop. With the utmost care, she slipped the photo into the frame, tightening the cover. She moved over to the wall, moving the photo in the center of the wall to another nail, and replacing it with the photo of Elsa and Portia.

Elsa watched as Santana put the picture up. She felt as though a heavy weight had been lifted from her heart. She had not known the weight till it was lifted. Smiling, she turned on her heels to proceed to the shop window.

"Come on, let's get Periwinkle wrapped up for you." Elsa removed the 40-inch pale purple bear from the shop window, "Santana dear, do me a favor in a bit and pick a few of the smaller bears and put them on display?"

"I'll get to it!" Santana soon found herself with an armful of different-colored handmade bears. She took her time arranging them nicely at the shop display window. Now that the shop's main attraction was gone, she'd have to make the display look equally as enticing, if not more.

When she was done, she found Elsa behind her, handing her a large bag. Santana dug out 30 dollars and handed them to Elsa as she took the bag. It was a little heavier than she had imagined, but she suddenly felt powerful with it in her hands.

"Best of luck, Santana!"

Santana smiled as she kissed Elsa's cheek, "I'll see you, Elsa! You smell like cookies!"

"And you smell like some expensive perfume!" Elsa laughed as she watched Santana walk out and down the sidewalk. Watching Santana waltz out of sight, Elsa smiled softly and turned around, half expecting her own love to be smiling back with open arms.

As Santana took a seat on the train with the large bag on her lap, having forgotten about her intentions for a late lunch, she sighed softly. She let Elsa's story replay itself in her head. Santana found her thoughts drifting to Brittany. She didn't regret having loved Brittany. Of course, she didn't exactly fight hard when they had started their long distance. She did regret that a little bit. But she knew she'd have regretted more if she had never confessed to Brittany… She was eternally grateful for Holly Holiday all of a sudden.

In another fifteen minutes, Santana got off the train, heading back to the home that she shared with Rachel and Kurt. Before she could enter the key into the hole and twist the door open, Kurt had already pushed it aside.

"Hey, Satan! I thought you weren't gonna come home!"

"Lady, just because I'm half an hour later than usual doesn't mean I've disappeared from the face of the eart—hey! Give that back!"

Kurt was holding Santana's teddybear, eyeing it curiously, "Are you trying to woo a certain Berry?"

Santana rolled her eyes, "In a million years. It's for Quinn."

"Quinn?"

"Yea, I'm leaving this hell-hole for New Haven tomorrow."

"Ooh, you have a date with Quinnie!" Kurt was half-squealing, making Santana scoff.

"Are you gonna move aside and let me in the house or are you gonna stay squealing like a damn pig and blocking my way?"

"Alright, Satan. Dinner will be ready in 15!" Kurt moved aside, shoving the teddy bear into her arms before moving back towards the kitchen.

Santana rolled her eyes, pushing aside the partition curtain to her own 'room'. She took the teddy bear out of the huge bag and set it on her own bed. Its eyes seemed to twinkle at her.

"Kurt, do you think it's possible for you to go to a jewelry store with me after dinner?"

"Stop yelling, our home is smaller than you think! And an invitation into hell? No thanks!"

"Please?"

The man turned around to find Santana about two feet away from him, with a desperate frown on her face. She had placed her phone on the table, and was leaning over it. It wasn't seductive or anything, just pleading.

"What for?"

"Quinn…"

Cocking his head to the side, Kurt tried to get into Santana's head. Deciding after a while that he simply couldn't, Kurt shook his head as he wiped his hands on a nearby towel, "Alright, I'll go. But you're doing the dishes tonight!"

Santana groaned, "Fine. I swear Berry's getting us a dishwasher as soon as she gets that damned paycheque." She took a seat on the lumpy couch in their living room, sighing softly as the smell of a wonderfully cooked dinner floated through the loft.

"Santana!" The shriek robbed Santana from all sleepiness. She leapt up from her position on Quinn's bed, swinging around the corner of the door to the small kitchen Quinn was in. The water had boiled over, and Quinn's widened eyes were laced with fear.

"God, Fabray, how do you live alone like this." She ran to Quinn's rescue, grabbing a nearby dry towel and lifting the cover from the pot, setting it aside. The water simmered down, still bubbling. Santana sighed as she took the packet of pasta and poured some in. She turned the fire a little lower.

"I don't cook!" Quinn squeaked from a safe distance of six feet from the stove.

"Obviously." Santana rolled her eyes as she put the cover on again, tuning down the fire, "You should learn to though."

"No…"

"Alright, Queen, should I just stay forever and slave in the kitchen for you?"

"It'd be nice…" Quinn said with an innocent smile. It caught Santana off guard, and for a moment, she could only stare at Quinn. She swallowed as Quinn took a step towards her with a sultry look.

It was simply too dangerous.

Santana forced herself to look away, moving past Quinn and back into the bedroom. Just as her head hit the pillow, she heard another yell.

"Santana! I don't know how long this is supposed to cook!"

"God." With yet another groan, she dragged herself out of bed, away from the safe comfort of Quinn's intoxicating scent, and headed for the kitchen.

"Chef Hummel humbly presents his non-vegetarian lasagna."

"Coming!" Santana practically tripped over herself as she hurried to the table. She was really hungry now, having not had a proper lunch.

"Did you not hear your phone vibrate earlier?"

"What phone?"

"That phone," Kurt pointed to Santana's phone which was resting dangerously close to the edge on the table.

"Oh shit, it rang?"

"Well vibrated so loudly that I thought the table was coming apart. You didn't hear? God, I didn't know you struck Satan deaf!"

"Oh shut it, Kurt," Santana dug a fork into the plate set in front of her and reached for her phone. Three missed calls. All from Quinn. Whoops.

"Judging from your face it's either a drunk Berry or Quinn."

"Quinn," she muttered with a mouthful of delicious food, "I'll just text her back."

"It'd be nice if you'd actually wait for me to take my seat before you dig through the food like there's no tomorrow."

"It's good!" Her fingers typed away as she chewed.

S: Hey blondie. Sorry I didn't answer. Yeah I can come. Everything k?

She set her phone aside as she swallowed and took another bite, practically ignoring Kurt now. Her phone vibrated loudly, making both Kurt and her jump.

Q: I miss you. I'll see you tomorrow night?

Santana smiled as she quickly replied a 'yup'. It stirred something in her heart to see Quinn telling her she was missed.

"You're smiling like a dope. Can you eat faster so we can go?"

"You just want to be home faster so you can turn your room into a sex-cave for you and Blaine." Santana replied with a judgmental roll of her eyes. Still, she ate a little faster. When she was done, she slid the dishes into the sink, turning on a tap and adding some detergent. She'd let the dishes sit in the water for a bit before she washed them tonight.

"Come on, Kurt, let's go!"

"I'm still trying to find my jacket, hold up!"

"If it's your knew one that you bought yesterday, it's right here!" Santana muttered as she picked the jacket up from the couch, and throwing it at Kurt who had just walked out of his 'room'.

"Alright you impatient ass, let's go!"

"Q, it's been half an hour! You've said 'five minutes' at least four times!"

"Three minutes more! I just need to finish up my eyeshadow!"

Having tapped her foot on the floor till she could swear there was a dent, Santana pushed open the partition curtain separating her from her own room, where Quinn was, "Quinn, seriously now, we're gonna be late fo—"

"Hm?" Quinn turned with a bashful smile on her lips, "Sorry, S. I'm really almost done."

"Wow," was the only word Santana could breathe. Quinn was the absolute epitome of perfection.

"Okay, I'm ready!" Quinn, seemingly oblivious, took Santana's arm in her own, marching them out of the place Santana called 'home'.

Santana hated to admit it, but she had trouble with keeping her eyes on where she was going. Quinn looked breathtaking. But it broke her heart to know Quinn was not doing this for her.

She wished Quinn was.

"Hey, Satan! What about this one?"

"Huh?" Santana found herself torn from memories and she look at the pendant Kurt was pointing at. She was about to scoff at Kurt's choice for the third time already, when she realized his choice actually wasn't too flamboyant this time. She took a closer look.

"I think she'll like it?"

Santana stared at silver pendant. It was made of two linked stars, one the bigger one with small shining stone set into it. "I think she'll like it too."

"It's not cheap."

"Since when did price matter when it came to Quinn?"

Kurt fell silent as Santana waved a member of the staff over.

He knew the look of love, and he saw it in Santana's eyes.

"I'll get it for you, Q?"

"No, Tana, you couldn't… It's so expensive!"

"Since when did price matter when it came to you, Quinnie?"

"No… Tana… I can get Finn to get it or something…"

Santana frowned as she tightened her grip on Quinn's shoulder, "What makes you think you can spend his money and not mine?"

"Hey! Don't make me sound like a gold-digger!"

Santana sighed, feeling a little desperate, "That's not what I mean't, Q. I mean… why can't I buy you something expensive when he can?"

"Because he's my boyfr-" her hazel eyes met Santana's and she pursed her lips together. Why did Santana look so sad all of a sudden? Feeling somehow guilty, Quinn decided to give in, "Alright, I'll let you get that for me. But only if I pay for dinner tonight!"

A sad smile appeared on Santana's face, "Alright, that's a deal."

"Stop mentally frowning."

"Sorry."

"You're prettier when you smile."

Really?

"Hey, you okay?" Kurt shook Santana gently on the shoulder as they walked home in the chilly night air, "This is your gift, as far as I'm concerned." Kurt held out a small blue gift bag and waved it in front of Santana's face.

"What? Oh. Did I forget to take it when we left?"

"Yes. Which is why I'm taking the time to inquire if you're okay?"

"I… I'm scared, Kurt."

The way Santana looked now reminded him of the way she looked when she had first been outed—strong on the outside and breaking inside. "Why?"

"I…"

"Lay it out for me. I won't tell Berry, I promise."

"It's not about Berry."

"Well, she'll be singing it at the top of her lungs if she knows."

Santana laughed nervously, "Kurt… I'm scared that Quinn will reject me…"

Kurt's eyes grew wide, "You're gonna confess?"

"I…"

"I mean it's a good thing and all… but… it's gonna be all or nothing. You know she can get pretty weird when it comes to… being in a lesbian relationship…"

"I never said anything about liking her!"

"Stop turning on your defence system, San, you live, breathe, and bleed her. Seriously. You're pretty obvious about liking her."

Santana could only look away in embarrassment."I… I don't know if I'll confess… but I don't want to have to live with the regret knowing I never told her… What if next week she gets hit by a truck or I get run over?" Clearly, Elsa's story was still fresh in her mind. In all honesty, it had made her think long and hard about Quinn and their relationship.

"Woah, philosophical Santana!"

"Kurt…"

"Sorry… I just… I guess you're right… I mean, after the little bit of fun at failed wedding last year—"

"Wait, what? Who told you that?" Santana stopped in her tracks, turning to glare at Kurt. This was a secret she had told no one.

"I figured out as much… Quinn's a screamer? Like, a really loud screamer."

Santana sighed deeply. Quinn really was a screamer, so in a way, he was justified. Her silence allowed Kurt to continue.

"Anyways, after that… I was shocked she started dating Finn, really…"

"I was more shocked than you were."

"I know… Never knew Satan was capable of such deep feelings." He laughed in attempt to lighten the mood. Santana could only heave an even heavier sigh.

By now the pair had began walking up the steps to their home. When they were at the top, Kurt pulled out a key to open the door. Santana silently entered the place, slipping out of her heels and heading straight to her room. She mumbled something that resembled a 'goodnight' to Kurt, shut her curtain, and found her headphones. Plugging them into her phone, she played her favorite songs on shuffle. She set the small gift bag in the arms of Periwinkle.

The music really fell to deaf ears. As Santana flopped onto her bed stomach down, still fully dressed, she let her hand fall on the teddy bear's paw. Her chin rested on her free hand.

Did that slim chance of Quinn actually accepting a confession weigh more than the much greater possibility of estrangement? Was this one chance of holding Quinn for something near forever worth their friendship falling into flames?

She must have fallen asleep as she waltzed through the enigmatic maze of her thoughts, because the next thing she heard was a loud laugh followed by some heavy but uneven footsteps, making Santana raise her head. Drunk Berry was probably home now. There was loud giggling and a man's voice. So she was planning on an early Valentine's Day performance.

Instinctively, Santana turned her music a little louder.

Now, for the first time since she had even bothered with music, she heard the words. It was the acoustic version of a song that Blaine Anderson had recorded for Kurt. Why she had the song on her phone, she couldn't remember anymore. It sounded nice, though, so she let it play.

You think I'm pretty without any make-up on

You think I'm funny when I tell the punch line wrong

I know you get me, so I let my walls come down, down

It's funny how lyrics mean so much when you allow yourself to realize the hurt inside. The broken heart, the shattered shards, the lost piece. Santana let her head rest on her bed again, as she thought of all the times Quinn had made her feel so comfortable that she had put aside her mask. Those times, of late, had become rarer and rarer. But she missed them.

Before you met me, I was alright

But things were kinda heavy, you brought me to life

Now every February you'll be my valentine, valentine

Valentine. Funny. Quinn could be considered to be her valentine last year. Quinn was her 'date' to the wedding. Quinn was the one who made her laugh. Quinn was there to listen to her. Quinn was there to kiss her, make her feel a little loved.

Let's go all the way tonight

No regrets, just love

We can dance until we die

You and I, we'll be young forever

Indeed, Santana had never regretted the one night stand. She only wish it lasted for more than one night. The euphoria of holding Quinn, she knew she could never be bored of. Besides, she was Quinn's first female slow-dance partner. Quinn loved it, that's what she told Santana. Truth be told, it made Santana feel all warm and fuzzy inside—it was a feeling she had long forgotten she was capable of feeling. She was proud to be Quinn's first for two things that fateful night—the dance and the lesbian sex.

You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream

The way you turn me on, I can't sleep

Let's runaway and don't ever look back

Don't ever look back

Tonight, the night before Valentine's Day, Santana found herself looking back. The past year had been beautiful. To spend it in a closer relationship with Quinn was a blessing. But it was also agonizing to be so close to Quinn yet so far from her heart. That part was a curse. The love itself was a curse.

My heart stops when you look at me

Just one touch, now baby I believe

This is real, so take a chance

And don't ever look back, don't ever look back

Santana needed a chance. She wanted one, and technically had one, but she wasn't sure she was capable of taking it. Failure had never been in her dictionary, but tonight it was. The realization struck her like a bolt of lightning. While it set an unwarranted passion in her heart, it also sent fear spreading faster that fire in a forest.

We drove to Cali and got drunk on the beach

Got a motel and built a fort out of sheets

I finally found you, my missing puzzle piece

I'm complete

If anything, Quinn always filled her heart. Be it the soft laughter or the way her finger's would brush against Santana's—Quinn made her feel warm, loved, cared for. Quinn was the missing part of her broken heart. And having had Quinn ripped out again made her heart fall into a billion pieces.

Let's go all the way tonight

No regrets, just love

We can dance until we die

You and I, we'll be young forever

Santana wondered why Elsa had told her the Quinn wasn't exactly opposed to a relationship. Did Quinn talk? Or was it Elsa's sixth sense which she had learned in these months, was seldom wrong?

You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream

The way you turn me on, I can't sleep

Let's runaway and don't ever look back

Don't ever look back

Elsa's words aside, Santana could tell Quinn wasn't too happy with her relationship with Finn. Santana had been getting more and more desperate calls, texts, voicemails that were filled with bitter and sometimes tearful complaints. And there was that one time when Quinn had texted her asking if she ought to break up with Finn. Santana hadn't known how to answer. She had simply told Quinn to hang on to what she felt was right. That broke her own heart. But if her broken heart could promise Quinn's whole one, then it was worth it.

My heart stops when you look at me

Just one touch, now baby I believe

This is real, so take a chance

And don't ever look back, don't ever look back

Was this really her chance? She didn't want Quinn to cheat on Finn with her. She didn't want a one-time thing again. She wanted Quinn to be her's and only her's.

I'm a get your heart racing in my skin-tight jeans

Be your teenage dream tonight

Let you put your hands on me in my skin-tight jeans

Be your teenage dream tonight

Was she capable of bringing Quinn the very happiness that she so much deserved? Was she capable of satisfying Quinn, not only sexually, but emotionally as well? So many questions rolled into one giant rock, rolling full speed at her, as though to crush her.

You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream

The way you turn me on, I can't sleep

Let's runaway and don't ever look back

Don't ever look back

Without stepping out, Santana figured she'd never know. She had to venture into the unknown if she was going to give Quinn and her a chance.

My heart stops when you look at me

Just one touch, now baby I believe

This is real, so take a chance

And don't ever look back, don't ever look back

It was decided then. Tomorrow. Valentine's Day. Their one year anniversary of a drunken one-night-stand.

I'm a get your heart racing in my skin-tight jeans

Be your teenage dream tonight

Let you put your hands on me in my skin-tight jeans

Be your teenage dream tonight

It was all or nothing.

The train chugged along quietly along the railroad between New York and New Haven. The sun was well in the sky, almost fading from it, really.

It was getting late in the afternoon, and Santana, with the company of one oversized teddy bear, was gripped by fear as she looked out the window without really seeing.

One thing Santana hated now was imagination. Her mind was running wild with how Quinn would react.

It was highly likely that Quinn would feel disgusted, throw her out, and say goodbye forever. There was a chance that Quinn would promise to remain friends, but slowly fade out. There was even that slim chance that Quinn would do something really stupid to herself or commit a criminal act towards her.

All those things shook the courage out of her heart. Whatever courage her broken heart had mustered last night was fading fast. Whatever strength she found last night was failing her.

The train came to a stop much to early for Santana. She was white as a sheet as she stepped off the train. With a duffel bag in one hand, the bagged bear in the other, and boxed necklace in the pocket of her coat, she decided to walk from the station to the university. It was a half-hour walk, and though it was still a relatively short time, it would at least offer a little space for her to gather herself.

Santana Lopez had never been such a mess. Nor did she ever intend herself to ever be again. It wasn't her. Quinn was her love as much as her greatest enemy. Only Quinn Fabray could render her so powerless.

As her sandals met the sidewalk time and again in her walk, Santana found her memories running her back to her childhood years.

They say those near death see life flashing before their eyes. It made Santana even more sure now that she was close to her death. Her breathing was laboured, even though this walk was really nothing compared to the morning runs she sometimes went on to keep fit.

As the university became closer and closer, her heartbeat grew faster and faster.

Chastising herself mentally for making a fool out of herself, Santana took a deep breath. She told herself it would all be okay. Quinn wasn't going to be in the dorm. She'd be let in by the security guard, who had by now, recognized her. She'd put the teddy bear on Quinn's bed, complete with the necklace in a box and then wait in the living room for her to come back. No snooping around Quinn's room.

It wasn't long before she found herself inside Quinn's dorm building, having greeted the security guard with a hurried 'hello', standing at the bottom of the staircase. Those stairs never looked so long and menacing before.

Trying to pick herself up from the mess her head and heart were in, Santana began to walk up the stairs. She was at Quinn's door when she realized that she needed Quinn to let her in. In her haste, she had forgotten to tell Quinn what time she was arriving, and knowing Quinn, she would have locked the door. One try at the doorknob and Santana found her thoughts real.

She slid down, against the wall, duffel on one side, Periwinkle in a bag on the other side. She leaned against the wall and drew her knees up. This was terrible. Now Quinn was to come home at god-knows-when, smelling like fucking Finn, and find someone who probably resembled a druggie frantic and half-asleep at her door.

There was a tinge of regret in Santana's heart, and it seemed to grow fiercer and stronger with each passing moment. She was truly scared. Feeling like the little girl who had just realized how to love, Santana sighed. She felt so lost.

Suddenly, Santana heard a loud crash and the tinkling of broken glass from inside Quinn's room. She straightened up, her body rigid as she listened for more. It seemed silent for a moment, and she thought about there being a burglar of some sort in the place. Then she heard muffled shouts, growing louder and louder.

The voices were, of course, unmistakable. There was Quinn's voice. And a man's. Finn's. Instantly, Santana moved closer to the door, trying to catch more of the heated conversation.

From behind the door, she could only make out words and phrases, and at first, they made little of any sense.

"Cup… Stop…"

"Leave…"

"No… It's not that…"

"No sex… Months… Breaking point…"

"Not fair… Can't keep waiting…"

"Cheater… don't do this…"

She pressed hers ear impossibly closer, the agitation in Quinn's voice sparking both her curiosity and fury.

"Finn. I've known for two months now. Whatever her name is, I know you're seeing her! You smell like sex and it's Valentine's Day!"

"Put that fucking lamp down, you're not throwing that at me!"

"Just admit it, you're cheating!"

"And you're not?! You always push me away when I'm horny. I have needs! It's been almost a year since we've gone out! We've never had sex! Seriously!"

"You're trying to change the topic!"

"I'm not, but I have needs!"

"Are you saying your cheating is justified because I never have sex with you?!"

"Fuck yes, and what are you gonna do about it?!"

"We're so fucking over!"

A crisp, loud slap sounded in the room, almost echoing, even through the wooden door. While Santana felt a little comforted in knowing Quinn wasn't touched by the fucking giant, she was also angered by how upset Quinn sounded—not at Quinn of course, but at Finn.

She wanted to stand up and storm in. But she knew she couldn't. She could kill the cheating bastard later though. It all boiled down to who slapped who. If Quinn was the one who gave that flawless slap, then Finn deserved to be murdered with a billion knives in him. If Quinn was the one who received that damned slap, then Finn deserved to be murdered with a billion knives, chopped into a billion pieces, and fed to the sharks.

The door opened unexpectedly just as Santana pulled away. A very angry and sore loser stormed out, his cheek a glowing red, too blinded by his own ignorance, as Santana liked to call it, to even see her sitting on the floor. His feet stomped heavily down the hallway.

Blood rushed to her ears, and she could hear her own heartbeat. Santana watched his back, as though her thoughts could conjure enough power to strike him dead on the spot. She wanted to make sure he wouldn't go back to hurt Quinn more.

When Finn was at last out of sight, Santana heard a soft sobbing within the dorm room. Finn had left the door ajar as he had left. Santana stood up immediately, dusted herself off, moving her belongings inside and setting them on the couch. She shut the door quietly.

Quinn was crying, her head buried in her hands, sitting on the edge of her bed. Her back was to the entrance of her room.

At that moment, Santana felt like she saw the pregnant Quinn again. Quinn was vulnerable. The Quinn who was so desperate for some love, so desperate for some comfort. This love and comfort was something Santana wished she could answer.

She saw a pile of shattered glass near one of the walls, but there was no blood. She heaved a sigh of relief.

Slowly and gingerly, she took a seat beside Quinn. Quinn's shaking made her oblivious to the sagging of the mattress. Santana carefully wrapped her arms around Quinn's waist. She felt Quinn tense up and Santana mentally prepared herself for a brief struggle.

Instead she felt Quinn's shoulder's sag, her body turn, and she felt Quinn's head rest on her shoulder. She asked no questions, nor did she say anything as she kept one hand around Quinn and raised the other to stroke her hair.

Quinn's sobbing and shaking gradually lightened. Her breathing slowed, and even though she still had the occasional hiccup, she was becoming calm.

Santana, however, will still filled with concern. Although her hatred for Finn had gradually melted into sympathy for Quinn. She wanted to forget her intention of coming over. There was no way she could drop another bomb on Quinn after this happened anyway.

Just as Santana passed through her emotional desert and into conflicted thoughts, she felt Quinn move. Quinn looked up, her eyes filled with an unreadable emotion.

Then she felt it. It was short and soft, but it was real.

Her eyes widened as she realized what just happened.

Quinn had pressed her lips against Santana's, and pulled away as quickly as she had served the kiss.

As Santana tried to process what was happening she felt herself being pushed back onto the bed. As her back hit the mattress, her eyes became focused and she found herself staring into a pair of desperate hazel eyes. They were teary, but the pain had evaporated.

"Quinn…?" Santana's word came out as more of a croak. She felt her throat run dry. As much as she wanted to know what was happening… she didn't.

"Can you love me?" was the only whisper she heard from Quinn. She was hovering on top of Santana, a knee on each side of her waist, a hand on each side of her head.

"L-love you?"

"Make love to me."

"Quinn…"

"Santana… please…" She began to lower her lips on Santana's again.

This time, she gave enough time for Santana to react. With a swift motion, she reversed their positions so she was on top of Quinn. She needed to be in control of the situation.

This wasn't drunken. This was no one night stand.

"Quinn, you're hurt, alright? Sex isn't going to help you…"

Quinn's eyes reflected only more pain than she did before. She parted her lips to speak, but she had turned mute.

Santana swallowed, staring at Quinn. She wanted Quinn, but not if she herself was to be a consolation prize. She had come with the full intent of loving Quinn, yes, but she was also prepared for rejection. Santana found herself surprisingly calm with acceptance.

"I have something that will make you feel happier though… Can you come out with me to the living room?"

"Is he gone?" Quinn's voice was timid and soft, and to Santana, she looked so, so small.

"Yes. And if he isn't, I'll kick him in the balls for you." Santana got up from the bed, off of Quinn. She leaned in a little, offering a hand to Quinn to help her up.

Quinn eyed her hand warily before deciding to take it. She let Santana lead her out of her room.

"Close your eyes," Santana smiled, letting Quinn stand in the middle of the room.

"What is it…" Quinn was still a little nervous, but she trusted Santana enough to do as she was told.

"Mm… It's soft and fluffy… And two months ago, it was what you wanted but couldn't get!"

Instantly, a smile washed over Quinn. It was small, but it was there. "Periwinkle!" She opened her eyes instinctively just as Santana picked the teddy bear from its bag.

"Hey! I thought I said you need to keep your eyes closed!"

The squeal from Quinn made Santana forget everything. Had she needed to remember to tell her heart to beat, she'd have dropped dead. Quinn took the bear in her arms, hugging it close.

Her tear-stained face shone with a childish light. Santana found herself grinning, standing and watching Quinn holding the bear. Who knew Quinn had such a childish side?

Then suddenly, Quinn's countenance changed. A look of sorrow and confusion washed over her. She pushed the bear back towards Santana.

Santana found herself equally as confused, "What's wrong? Do you not like it?"

Quinn turned around, away from Santana. Her eyes were downcast. Santana found her heart sink. "It's… It's not that… I… Santana…"

Santana listened in silence as she sat the bear down back on the couch. She needed an explanation. When none came, she reached into her pocket to find her second gift, hoping it'd suffice to cheer Quinn up again.

"I… I can't… Just… Stop being so nice to me…" Quinn shoulders began to shake again as her tears began to fall.

She froze. This one moment when Santana had shown so much care, so much love, broke all her barriers. For months since the last Valentine's Day, she had chosen to hide from her feelings. She had chosen to run away. Now that she was coming face to face with them, they were threatening to kill her.

"Why…" Santana felt her words stuck in her throat. This was torture. Pure torture.

"I… Santana…" Quinn's voice was gradually growing softer and softer, "Stop making me love you…"

What…?

Without another word, Santana retrieved the silver necklace from its box. She took a cautious few steps towards Quinn's shaking back. Quinn's head was hung low, her whole stance sagging in hopelessness.

Santana unclasped the necklace, bringing it over Quinn's head and then fastening it around her neck. For a moment, she didn't say anything. And then she spoke soft words that drowned Quinn in an even bigger flood of tears.

"If you are in love with me, then let me love you, too."

The words were spoken in attempt to stop the flood, but at the realization of her own foolishness, of her unwarranted pain, and the unnecessary breaking of both their hearts, Quinn only found herself weaker, and more torn down.

Once again, Santana took Quinn in her arms, stroking her hair and just letting her cry. Quinn's body was heavy against Santana. She was crying so much she was beginning to feel faint and Santana was her only pillar of support, both emotionally and physically.

Santana didn't mind being this support. She liked the feeling of being able to hold and comfort Quinn. But Quinn's tears were getting the better of her. She had so many unanswered questions that desperately needed answers. She felt relieved that Quinn's tears were dying out, as though she had cried her eyes dry.

Slowly, she led Quinn towards the couch, sitting her down and taking a seat beside her. She let their fingers lace together, fitting perfectly like two puzzle pieces.

"What's wrong?" she breathed out slowly, using her free hand to wipe away the remnant of Quinn's tears.

Glazed eyes met her own. "I've been so stupid…"

Santana urged Quinn on with a squeeze of her hand and her silence.

Quinn was hiccuping softly, still stifling sobs. As cute as that was, Santana knew Quinn needed water. She stood up, patting Quinn's hand, and headed to the kitchen and returning with a glass of water. She watched in silence as Quinn took a sip. Santana resumed her seat beside Quinn, and her fingers between Quinn's. Quinn had calmed down now, and was fairly ready to continue. She kept her head down, though, unable to look into Santana's eyes.

Twice, Quinn opened her mouth to speak, but only to find no words coming out. Then, for a third time she tried to speak. This time she succeeded, "I thought… I thought the whole night was a one-time thing to you…"

Santana smiled softly, sighing, "I thought so, too, at first… but then… turns out you weren't…"

"But then I realized… I kind of liked you… and I didn't know what to do…"

"Me neither."

"So I dated Finn… I thought… maybe… I could forget you…" The tiniest of smiles graced her soft pink lips.

Santana offered a small laugh, "What? No one ever forgets me!"

"It's true… I… Nothing felt the same after you…"

"Is that why you've been avoiding Finn's… um… intimate moments?"

"You were eavesdropping outside?"

Whoops. "Not exactly… I mean, I heard glass shatter and I was worried… so… Sorry…"

"Whatever… Forgiven…" Quinn raised her head for the first time to find Santana staring at her. She turned aside bashfully.

"Hey… um… Quinn… Can I…"

"Can you…?"

"Can I kiss you again?"

Quinn looked curiously at Santana again. Even though Quinn's nose was red from crying and her eyes were puffy and redder yet, even though her face was stained with trails of tears and mascara, even though she looked worn out and tired, Santana found Quinn the most beautiful girl in the world.

"I'm clearly in no state for kissing… I probably look like a witch that jumped out of a fairytale."

"It doesn't matter… You're still beautiful in my eyes…"

"Santana…"

"Can I kiss you?"

"Can you stop asking?"

Santana smiled softly before trailing her slender fingers along Quinn's jaw again, tilting her head slightly to get a better angle. She leaned in, and as soon as her lips felt Quinn's, she closed her eyes.

Quinn, too, did the same. She let Santana lead the kiss. She moved her own lips weakly against Santana's.

Everything seemed to disappear all of a sudden—all the pain, the tears, the un-prettiness. All of a sudden, Quinn found only passion inside, love, beauty.

As Santana traced Quinn's lower lip with her tongue, Quinn could only part her lips and allow Santana to take control.

As Santana's tongue slipped into her mouth, Quinn let out a weak moan. Her fingers found their way to Santana's shoulder, and she instinctively clung onto the soft fabric of her shirt. She felt Santana's fingers slide around her waist, pulling her a little bit closer.

As Santana deepened the kiss, all thoughts left Quinn's mind. She could smell Santana, she could hear Santana's breathing, she could taste Santana's sweet kiss, and she could feel Santana so close to her. That was enough to make her lose her sanity.

It wasn't long before Quinn found her back against the couch and felt Santana's weight on herself. Not that she minded.

Both women felt courage rushing back in tidal waves.

As the kisses became more and more fervent, Quinn found herself needing more and more air. Her heart was beating so fast it felt like it would explode. As she felt Santana's hand slip underneath her dress, her fingertips grazing her thigh, she let out an audible gasp. Her eyes opened as Santana pulled away from the kiss. Her lip was tingling, and she silently begged Santana for more. Quinn's eyes were glazed over.

Santana exhaled with a small smile, letting her fingers trail a little higher onto Quinn's side. She loved the way Quinn shivered slightly as her fingers danced along the perfect skin.

"Wait…" her plea was weak but Santana stopped immediately. She pulled her fingers out of Quinn's dress. Did Quinn not want…?

Still, as disappointment sank in, Santana willed Quinn to finish telling her. She was ready to hop off Quinn and resume a pure friendship at any point. After all… Quinn was a little hurt, and hurt Quinn tended to do rash things.

To her surprise, she found Quinn leaning up for a chaste kiss. "Can we take this to the bedroom?"

A smile broke on Santana's face as she got off, slipping her arms underneath Quinn so she could carry her into the bedroom, "Still a traditional lover aren't we? No sex anywhere else but the bed?"

Quinn looked bashful and oh-so-cute with the blush on her cheeks. It made Santana's heart skip a beat.

"Just… not tonight? Maybe… sometime…"

"If this is your attempt at talking naughty, Q, you have a long way to go and a lot to learn." Santana's smirk set a new desire in Quinn's heart. As she was lowered onto the bed, she reached out, grabbed Santana by the collar, and pulled Santana down on herself.

"Shit, Quinn… You're gonna make me lose control."

Santana licked her lips as Quinn smiled in a slightly haughty way, "Then lose control. I'm yours."

That was all the encouragement Santana needed. She hastily pulled her shirt over her head, tossing it aside. Then she let her lips fall onto Quinn's neck, kissing it softly. Quinn tilted her head to allow Santana more space, and she let out a small mewl.

Fingers once again found their way under the soft fabric of Quinn's dress. They trailed random patterns up Quinn's side, making her shiver in delight.

"Santana… don't tease…"

"But you like it," Santana found herself smirking as she moved her kisses down onto Quinn's collarbone. She sucked at it softly, earning a jolt of Quinn's body.

Santana felt cold fingers on her neck, trying to trail down her spine. She felt the tightness in her chest suddenly evaporate as Quinn's two fingers quickly unclasped her bra. Santana threw it aside with a small smile.

She liked the effort Quinn was giving—it was adorable really—but she wanted to focus on pleasuring Quinn. She wanted Quinn to feel as wanted and as loved as she did last Valentines' Day.

Choosing to ignore Quinn's advances, she pulled away to help Quinn out of her dress. When that was thrown aside, Santana wasted no time in unclasping Quinn's bra and straddling her.

With eyes filled with a fiery passion, she feasted herself on the sight of the half-naked beauty in front of her. Quinn watched, biting her lower lip nervously as Santana's eyes travelled from her eyes to her lips, from her collarbones to the top of her breasts, finally resting their piercing gaze on her peaks.

Deciding she could get a better angle if she wasn't straddling Quinn, Santana moved off to kneel on the bed, one leg in between Quinn's.

With one swift motion, Santana lowered her lips to kiss the tender skin just above Quinn's half-hardened nipple. Instantly, Quinn let out a soft grunt as she felt her nipples harden.

She watched in anticipation as Santana lowered her kiss down to her left nipple. Santana was taking her fucking time, taking way too long, and her lips only grazed the tip of the hardened nub. It was almost painful for Quinn to wait. Instinctively she arched her back a little, pushing herself into Santana. Santana pulled away immediately with a smirk.

The smirk that Santana responded with was one that turned Quinn on impossibly more.

"S… please… do something… I need you…"

"Don't be impatient, Q. Patience is a virtue."

Quinn opened her mouth to whine, but the only thing that came out was a gasp followed by a sultry moan. Santana was now licking her nipple with the occasional suck, and it was driving her insane.

Slender fingers traced down her torso and onto her abs. Santana took her time, letting Quinn's desire multiply tenfold as she teased.

Quinn's breathing was shaky and small sounds were escaping her lips every now and then. As she felt Santana's mouth on her previously neglected nipple, she let out a groan of pleasure.

It was this moment that Santana decided to let her fingers slip just along the hem of Quinn's panties. It tickled a little, making Quinn's hips buck a little. But that 'little' was enough for Santana to stop her motions, much to Quinn's disappointment.

Just as she was about to complain, Santana nipped on her nipple and began sucking hard, sending her into a flow of whimpers and muffled pleas. Then she felt it.

Santana was applying the tiniest bit of pressure onto Quinn's sex. Her fingers pressed at the cloth of soaked underwear, providing minimal amounts of pleasure that made Quinn tremble at every touch.

It made her want to clamp her legs shut until Santana would promise her more. But with Santana's knee in between her's, she realized she couldn't.

Suddenly, Quinn was all too aware of their positions. She drew her right leg up a little, almost experimentally, until her thigh pressed against Santana's center. She felt Santana flinch and her lips stop for a short moment. Quinn's heart blossomed with pride.

Now that she was feeling better and very, very needy, Quinn became determined to not be completely overpowered by Santana. She moved her leg again, pressing harder at Santana, earning a soft groan. It wasn't long before Santana took her lips and hands off of Quinn and got off momentarily to take her jeans off. She knew she needed to feel more of Quinn. Within seconds, she resumed her position, looming over Quinn, with a leg on either side of Quinn's.

Once again, Quinn pushed her thigh towards Santana. This time, Santana thrusted her hips against Quinn to find a little more friction. Her head tilted back and her lips parted at the impact. She heard Quinn gasp, which turned her on to no end.

Santana decided to push the soaked cloth aside, and slip her fingers through Quinn's folds. Instantly, Quinn let out a strangled moan, verging on the edge of a scream. Santana's cold fingers were quickly warmed up as she traced Quinn's entrance teasingly.

She rocked herself against Quinn's thigh every now and then, but even in her desire, only half-heartedly. She wanted to stay focused on loving Quinn. Santana let her finger slip over Quinn's clit. The bundle of nerves was swelling slowly with each gentle touch, leaving Quinn more desperate and needy than before.

"Santana…"

Hearing her own name called in a half-moan, Santana instinctively moved away from Quinn's thigh so she could lower her head and place a kiss on Quinn's clit. She tasted just like Santana had remembered. The taste made her want so much more.

She yanked on the hem of the panties, and as Quinn raised her hips, pulled them off and tossed them aside.

Resuming her position between Quinn's legs, Santana's tongue flicked out after a couple more kisses, and just as it landed on the swollen nub for an experimental lick, a hiss escaped Quinn's lips. Her hips bucked upwards and had to be held down by Santana's firm hands.

Santana began licking a little harder and at a constant pace, and she drew a string of moans mixed with curses out of Quinn's lips. She was shivering, her fingers digging into Santana's scalp as she craved for the long over-due release.

It really wasn't long when Quinn felt the desire pooling in her threaten to explode. Although Santana didn't quicken the pace as Quinn's moans become louder and louder, Quinn felt her pleasure heighten.

She was thrown over the edge unexpectedly, her whole body trembling as she moaned loud and clear. Despite the gentleness Santana had shown her, her orgasm was anything but gentle. It was violent, but still she welcomed it. Quinn tried desperately to push Santana's head away, but with only half the strength she had. Santana's skills rendered her powerless.

The way Santana was licking softly let Quinn ride out her orgasm for a little longer than she ever had. She felt like she had found paradise. But even as heaven subsided, Santana continued licking at the same pace.

It wasn't long before Quinn found a familiar desire ignite within her again. She had barely enough time to catch her breath when Santana's tongue slipped down from her clit and into her entrance. Instinctively, her muscles tightened.

Santana pulled back with an amused smirk, "You don't really help yourself much when I'm not around, do you? When was the last time you did yourself a favor?"

"You talk too much."

"Is that your attempt at telling me to get my tongue back onto you, Quinnie?"

Before Quinn was given a chance to respond, she felt a finger tease her entrance. It didn't go inside though. By the look on Santana's face, Quinn knew she would have to ask properly…

"Santana… can you…" she felt the finger inch into her just a tiny bit. So painfully slow. "Can you… fuck me…?"

"Oh, I don't know, can I?" Santana's eyes twinkled dangerously as she pushed in just a tiny bit more, earning a soft groan.

"Please… fuck me… Santana~" Her sentence ended in a moan that Santana was sure the whole floor of dorms heard. Not that she minded. She wanted everyone to know who Quinn Fabray belonged to.

Quinn was tight and tense around Santana's singular finger. She waited for Quinn to relax a little before moving her finger out and then back in again.

She knew she was treating Quinn like a virgin, and Quinn loved it. Santana knew Quinn loved the tenderness. She also knew where she had to reach to make Quinn scream. She added another finger.

Santana grazed Quinn's clit with her thumb as she moved in and out at an increasing pace. With a couple of quick thrusts, she had found the spot in Quinn. Quinn really was a screamer. As Santana leaned in to muffle Quinn's noises with a kiss, she felt fingers raking across her bare back. It didn't really hurt, even though she knew that there would be marks in the morning.

Even muffled by Santana's lips, Quinn's moans were a rising crescendo of sounds. Her breathing was laboured as she reached her climax once more, tightening her hold on Santana's fingers.

Santana broke the kiss to allow Quinn to breathe in, only to hear her name moaned from those lips. If Santana had been somewhat needy before, she was now desperate.

Once again, she allowed her thumb to graze Quinn's clit to prolong her pleasure. Even after she removed her fingers, it took a while for Quinn to stop shaking and for her breathing to return to a fairly regular beat.

Quinn felt thoroughly satisfied (although she would never deny Santana yet another round), but she could tell from the look in Santana's eyes that the desire in her was barely satiated.

With a sultry look, Quinn sat up, propping herself up on her elbows. Santana watched with a small smirk as Quinn raised her gaze. Their eyes met.

Quinn's voice was husky as she spoke, "Why are you still wearing something?"

"Why didn't you take it off?"

"You never gave me a chance to."

"Well, you have all the chances you want now."

In a swift motion, Quinn was on her hands and knees, crawling up towards Santana, who was now sitting with her back against the footboard of the bed. Her breathing and heartbeats quickened with every movement from Quinn.

Santana's knees were drawn up, but her legs were apart, giving Quinn the perfect view of the wet patch on her thong.

Before Santana could tease Quinn for the hungry look she had in her eyes, she felt her own hips being lifted gently and her thong practically torn off.

The next thing she saw was Quinn's hazel eyes staring at her in the most predatory way ever, Quinn's lips hovering just above her clit.

She exhaled slowly.

It was then that Santana felt a warm, wet feeling on her clit. She watched with hooded eyes as Quinn ran her tongue along her folds, not only over her clit, but over her entrance as well. She let out a soft whimper. Quinn's gaze was intensifying her whole experience.

Quinn began to focus on Santana's clit, licking and sucking. It really wasn't long before Santana was shaking, one hand clutching the bedpost and the other tangled in Quinn's gold locks. She threw her head back as wave after wave of pleasure rushed over her. She was getting closer and closer to the edge with each moment. Just as she was seconds away from crashing into bliss, Quinn stopped.

Santana let out a disgruntled groan at the loss of contact. Much to her relief, the tongue was quickly replaced with a slender finger. Quinn ran the tip of her finger on Santana's swollen nub, before trailing down and pushing it into Santana.

Santana tensed at the sudden but welcome intrusion, letting out another throaty moan. Quinn began moving her finger in and out slowly, adding a second finger somewhere along the lines. She watched with curiosity as Santana shut her eyes tight, muttering in a broken mix of Spanish and English.

Santana was quickly spiralling into her end when Quinn's fingers curled and made her see stars. That only quickened her descend into pleasure.

Within seconds, Santana was moaning for Quinn as Quinn tried to curl her fingers again within the tightening walls. Pleasure unfolded itself within Santana, and she reached her height in absolute bliss.

When Quinn could at last pull out, Santana had been reduced to a shaking mess. Shaking but hot mess. She took deep breaths, trying to stabilize her erratic breathing.

Quinn took Santana's hand and pulled her close, so they were lying side by side on the bed. They were both a little sweaty from all the 'working out' they had been doing, but neither woman had felt so happy in the past year.

"So… what happens next?" Quinn's voice was soft as she gazed deeply into Santana's eyes.

"Is this what you always ask after sex?" Santana's voice was still raspy, "Well… you could be the first to walk out… or this could be a two-time thing?" Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she quoted the same words she had said only a year ago.

"What just happened was already a two-time thing. Besides, no one said I'm done with you yet."

"I think I'll pass for tonight. I'm drained," Santana took Quinn's hand in her own, lacing their fingers together, "I don't mind continuing tomorrow morning, though."

"Santana!" Quinn giggled as she snuggled a little closer to Santana. After a moment of silence, she spoke up in a whisper once more, "Really… what happens next?"

"Why do I have to be the one to ask you out? Can't you ask me out?"

"Because I like being asked out… I'm a girl…"

"In case you didn't notice when you had your head at my pussy, I'm a girl too," Santana murmured fondly into Quinn's hair. Quinn was kissing her collarbone now, sending butterflies into her stomach.

"So…"

"Quinn, will you go out with me? I've been wanting to ask since forever, but—"

"Yes!" Quinn raised her head to look into Santana's eyes, "I thought you'd never ask."

Santana rolled her eyes as she kissed Quinn on the forehead, "And you couldn't have asked."

"Sorry…"

"It doesn't matter anymore. You're mine."

"Says who?"

"Says the hickey on your neck~" Quinn's squeal was too adorable. Santana could only laugh.

"Oh no you didn't!"

"Good luck covering that one up when we go on a date tomorrow!"

"Santana!"

"I love you, Quinnie!"

There was a pause, but the silence was neither heavy nor uncomfortable.

"I love you, too, you dork."

"Happy Valentine's Day, Q."

"You, too, S."

Another pause.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Geez, stop asking before you do something to me! You're ruining the surprise element!"

"Quinn Fabray, you're gonna completely regret what you just said. I'll be jumping you every fucking day I'm around you."

"I'd like to see you try."

"Is that a challenge?"

"You talk too much. Kiss me already."

The couple shared another kiss. As their tongues battled, they felt unity. Both of them felt complete, full. Any trace of pain, of brokenness had evaporated in love.

When they had at last separated, Santana let out a soft sigh. She pulled the covers from the corner of Quinn's bed, covering their bodies. With one last chaste kiss on Quinn's forehead, pulling Quinn close, Santana closed her eyes.

Everything around her smelt like Quinn, felt like Quinn. Everything had become flawless. Whole.

"Goodnight, baby."


Well babies, that's it! Leave a note and lemme know what you thought of it? :) I love you allllll!

Song: "Teenage Dream"