DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN GLEE OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS. THAT IS A SAD FACT.
EVERYBODY READ RESPONSIBLY.
/
"Hello? Santana Lopez?"
"Who are you?"
There was a chuckle, a very familiar chuckle. "I see you're still the same rude person."
"Quinn Fabray?" Santana gasped. It had been years since they last saw each other, let alone talked. How did she get her personal number?
"The one and only, I take it you're free now?"
"What? Why? I mean, how? Quinn, is that really you?"
"One question at a time," She laughed. "I saw Mike a couple weeks ago, and he told me you were doing really well. Famous and running a studio on your own in New York? Color me impressed."
Santana grinned. "I'm awesome, Quinn. And yes, you're talking to the proud owner of Snix studios. How are you? I'm surprised you have time to talk me, the last time I heard you were busy being a lawyer in Boston and you didn't even have time to sleep."
There was a pause. Santana heard some shuffling in the background before Quinn answered.
"Ah, I'm fine, yes .I'm a lawyer yes, you got that part right. Right now, I'm great. Everything is dandy," The sarcasm was not that hard to detect, because hello, Santana Lopez was the queen of sarcasm.
"What's wrong, Fabray? Because I know you and you wouldn't have called me without a reason."
There was another pause. "You got me."
Santana fought the urge to snort. Some people never change. "What do you want, Queen Fabray?" The nickname used six years ago, when they used to be friends in high school, slipped easily.
"Ha ha, very funny," Santana could sense Quinn's bitchy retort was on its way. "Satan." She finished with a bite.
Santana let out a nostalgic sigh. "I missed hearing people call me that."
"Oh yeah? What do they call you now? Satan's mistress? She-Hulk? Because I can go on."
Santana cradled the phone in her hand from where it was stuffed between her neck and her shoulder. "They call me the sassy gay Latina now, thank you very much." Santana smiled. "I missed you, Fabray."
"You too, Lopez," Quinn sighed. "We shouldn't have lost touch. I could have used someone to bitch out to."
"Are you just saying that because you need something from me?" Santana twirled a strand of her hair with her fingers. She got up from her seat and paced around her office, a habit that she had accustomed to whenever she talked on the phone.
"You haven't changed a bit since high school." It was meant to be offensive, but the way Quinn spoke, it was almost affectionate.
"I could say the same for you. So, what do you want Quinn?" Santana closed her computer and moved around aimlessly in her office. The phone call was a needed distraction and she welcomed it with open ears.
"Right, yeah. Do you remember how you, I and Puck used to be in high school?"
Santana frowned. "Is this a phone call about reminiscing crap about what we used to do in high school? Because your highness, I got a lot of shit to do. If you wanna catch up, bring a bottle of wine to New York and then we will talk. Get to the point, Fabray."
"I was getting to the point," Quinn huffed.
Santana snorted. "Of course you were. To answer your question, we were high most of the time and I had to endure you and Puck sucking face all the time. We got drunk; we broke shit and got into a hell lot of trouble. I'm a twenty six year old woman now and I don't need to relive my horrific teenage years." Santana shuddered at the thought. It was fun, at that time. But if she was asked to do it again, she would yell at the top of her voice with a big fat no sign.
"Horrific? I think you mean awesome. I remember you droning on and on about not wanting to grow up. Look who's talking now."
Santana pulled back her phone and for a minute she thought about hanging up and focusing on her work. She had record deals to sign, albums to create- she was a busy woman. Maybe she could ask Quinn to come visit her and waste their time catching up. She didn't want to waste her time on the phone. But that would be impossible.
With a resigned sigh, "When you are a lesbian and stuck in the closet you can talk, Fabray. Oh wait, you're gay."
"For the last time, I'm not gay Santana!" Quinn yelled shrilly and Santana pulled her phone from her ear at the sheer volume.
"It's okay, Quinn, I know it's hard and I'm here whenever you are ready. Now please, will you tell me what you want so I could say no and hang up?"
"Ugh, you're impossible." Quinn grumbled. "Do you remember Puck's sister's wedding?"
Santana nodded and realized the other person can't see, and even though it was a vague memory mostly because she was high, she answered, "Yeah I do. Wait! Don't tell me you still have feelings for Puck and you want to marry him or something? Because I definitely don't have time for this shit, Fabray" She almost wanted to throw up at the thought. If this was about some matchmaking thing, she was going to hang up and send Quinn gifts about 'Congratulations on coming out' and the last time she did it when they were still in high school, Quinn chased her all the way to her house and they ended up having a fight in the pool. She couldn't wait for this time.
"No! Ew, Santana! Puck and I are definitely not going to be a thing. That's just gross" Santana heard the shudder through the phone. "But do you remember how you came up with a plan to kidnap the bride because she had no interest in getting married to that douchebag?"
"Yeah, which would have gone successfully if it weren't for the fact that I was high as a kite, why are you bringing that up now?" Santana could almost bad things coming her way. This was not taking a right turn. Nope.
"I need you to come up with a better plan this time and I want you to execute it." Quinn's voice slightly shook with… nerves?
Santana spluttered. "Wha-? Quinn Fabray, are you high or something? Is this a prank call? Because I'm ten seconds away from booking a flight to Boston and killing you, what the hell are you even talking about?"
"No, Santana, I'm not high. And booking a flight to Boston would be a waste of time and money because I'm not there. I'm in Lima" Quinn stated with displeasure.
"So I can kill you then?"
"Santana!"
"What the hell Quinn? What's going on?" Santana was pacing in her office. She got weird looks from her assistant, who surely had heard her last sentence. She closed the blinds in her office, not before shooting her assistant a glare.
"I'm getting married. My mother wants me to get married and I have no intention to do so. He is the son of my father's friend and I'm getting married in five days! I need you to come save me, Santana. I need you to set up a kidnapping stooge and take me somewhere that is not this hellhole and I wouldn't be asking you if I didn't know you were the right person for the job."
"Fuck" The expletive made its way out before she could control. "Breathe, Quinn. Relax." She chuckled lightly. She didn't know why she was laughing. This all sounded ridiculous to her. Kidnapping a bride? Sure, it was fun in movie, but in real life? She could hear the police sirens and her photo being published in papers while her mother was sobbing her eyes out at her daughter's fate. She shuddered dramatically at the thought.
"Relax? With my mom and dad breathing down my neck, how can I? Please Santana. I need you to do this for me."
"Quinn, are you out of your mind? Why don't you tell your parents that you don't want to get married and do something rational for a twenty six year old? Because what you're saying is practically impossible, Fabray."
"If I told you it is Finn Hudson to whom I'm getting married to? Would that change your mind?"
"Finn Hudson?" Santana let out a loud laugh. She began laughing uncontrollably and the angry huffs from Quinn or the loud yell of her name didn't snap her out of it. After what seemed like an eternity, she did stop laughing much to Quinn's pleasure. "Oh god, my stomach hurts. Quinn Fabray-Hudson" She cracked up again, much to Quinn's annoyance. Finn Hudson was their classmate and one of the most stupid guys she has ever met. Everyone thought he was going to be a star, but he turned out to be a Lima Loser. Score one for Lopez.
"Go ahead, laugh it out. But please, Santana? It's not like you are doing this without my knowledge. I just need you to come here, sneak me somewhere before the wedding and I'll stay with you for a few days before going back home. I'll be ready and waiting. All you have to do is, come in without anybody noticing you and we will be good."
Santana let out a sigh. She wanted to save Quinn from her impending doom but they were talking at illegal shit here. If they got caught- oh god, she didn't even want to imagine what would happen. But Quinn was her friend, was a best friend at some point even though they had lost touch. "Fine, I'll think about it but only because marrying Finn is like social suicide."
Quinn's happy laughter broke through the phone. "Thank you, Satan!"
"I said I'll think about it. I haven't even said yes."
"Think about Finn Hudson and me, you'll surely say yes."
"We'll see, Quinn."
/
It has been five hours since she talked to Quinn. Quinn had text her a few times but she was yet to reply. She chewed her bottom lip, deep in thought. She thought about the consequences but as Quinn said, it's not like she was doing this without the knowledge of the bride. The bride was actually waving her a neon flashlight saying "YES" and the ball was in her court now.
But letting anyone marry Finn was something she wanted to save everyone from. He was an ass to her in high school, he had outed her in front of everyone. She forgave him for that later, but she would be lying if she said it didn't affect her. Actually it was a commercial, but whatever. It was from Finn that the commercial had gotten that fact from.
Quinn Fabray used to be her best friend. She remembers their drunken conversations and how they fiercely cared for each other. But then life happened, and they lost touch. She wanted Quinn to be happy, so yeah maybe agreeing to this won't be such a bad thing. She could do this.
She could drive to Lima, kidnap the bride, save her from a horrifying doom and they could return back to Lima.
She sighed.
It was easy stating it in words.
She picked her phone and typed out a yes and received a thank you in return. Oh god, she was doing something that could probably end her up in jail. If it had been the eighteen year old version, she would have jumped into this without second thought. But she had done a lot of growing up. She was successful now, she was a rising star in the music business, and she was making her dreams come true. Would she lose it?
She called her assistant and let her know that she won't be coming to work for a few days and her assistant had replied that it was more than okay and that she needed to take this vacation and have fun. Santana frowned. What did that mean? Had she turned into a boring person because she had a job and didn't do anything reckless and fun?
She does have fun. She goes to parties, she hooks up sometimes, and she is leading a normal life. Her mother had asked her when she was getting married but Santana wasn't ready for that type of commitment. She was just twenty six. She had a hell lot to accomplish. Maybe this whole Quinn thing was what she needed right now.
(How right she was.)
/
Five days later- Lima, Ohio.
Santana let out a shaky breath. She was doing this. Oh god.
She gripped the steering wheel tightly and it looked it might break. The wedding was at 6:00 PM and it was 3:00 PM now. The guests were starting to arrive. She was hiding in her car, taking deep breaths and going through the plan in her head for the millionth time.
The plan was simple. Go in, don't make eye contact with anyone, slip in to the bride's hotel room, throw a mask over the bride's head in case anyone was to catch them and walk out undetected.
She chanted to herself that she wasn't doing anything illegal. She told herself that people were doing worse things out in the world and she was just helping out a friend.
She was dressed in proper wedding attire and prayed to god that nobody would spot her. Everyone was busy with the wedding preparations, so thankfully she was unnoticed until she reached the hotel lobby. She walked in to the elevators and was sweating profusely. If anyone were to see her, they would think she was a criminal. She began to grow paranoid. She slipped on her sunglasses and she didn't care if she looked like a fool to wear sunglasses inside, but it was all part of the cover.
(If only she had noticed the names of the bride and bride groom in front of the hotel lobby.)
She reached the floor where Quinn was staying and walked out casually. By casually, she means tripping over her own feet. Get a grip, Lopez.
She reached room 315, it was apparently the room where all brides stayed in- this was a famous hotel for wedding venues. Quinn had informed her. Oh god, this was a famous hotel, which meant if she got caught, and then everything would be gone. But if one thing Santana was not was a coward. She would do this, for her friend.
She knocked three times, their signal, but got no response. She peeked sideways and luckily the hallway was empty. She breathed in relief and casually turned the doorknob and found it open. She opened it slowly and stepped inside. She hurriedly shut the door behind her and tiptoed inside. She saw a figure sleeping peacefully on the bed; the inhale and exhale of her breaths were the only sound in the room.
Santana frowned in confusion. Shouldn't Quinn be up and ready by now? Maybe she was pretending to be asleep so she could escape from all the chaos outside? Santana thought that must be it, because she knew how weddings can be.
Her face was buried into the pillow and Santana walked silently towards the bed and softly nudged her friend. "Wake up, Quinn. It's me, Santana. We gotta go." She whispered but the blonde didn't even stir. She shook her slightly on her shoulder but the blonde showed no signs of waking up. With a resigned sigh, she pulled out the black mask from her bag. Maybe she could cover Quinn up with it and slip out? Yeah, that plan was not stupid at all.
But she had no choice. She picked the blonde from the bed and she it was like moving a dead body. She heard footsteps outside the room and Santana held her breath. Please don't come in, she thought to herself as she stared at the door while simultaneously she slipped on the mask on her face and cradled her head on her shoulder.
(If only she had seen the face of the blonde on her shoulder.)
Santana looped her arm around her friend's waist and hoisted her up. She was wobbling with the weight but had managed to reach from the bed to the door. Now, was the difficult part, to walk out undetected?
Quinn had found a way backdoor that could easily offer them their escape. Quinn was determined to get out of this wedding, apparently. She opened the door lightly and scanned the hallway and again to her relief, it was empty.
She dragged Quinn out on the floor and to the elevator. She was surprised that the blonde hadn't woken up. Maybe she was knocked out. She tried shaking her awake but there was no response.
She slipped into the elevator and did the trick that got her directly down without stopping anywhere in the middle. Surfing the internet had its perks. Walking out with a person whose face was covered in mask, yep she was definitely going to get caught.
She pushed the blonde away from her, so she could get her awake. She saw the blonde flailing her arms and breathed in relief and frustration. Finally. She pressed the stop button on the elevator and it halted.
"You call me here to help and then you fall asleep?" She began to rant but also helped lift the mask of the blonde's face. She gasped.
The color drained from her face.
This blonde was not Quinn.
She had kidnapped the wrong bride.
Uh-oh.
/
DO NOT KIDNAP BRIDES OR ANYONE FOR THAT MATTER. THIS IS JUST FOR A STORY AND DO NOT DO IT IN REAL LIFE. TRUST ME; YOU'LL GO TO JAIL FOR THAT
Thank you for reading. Tell me if you liked it. Should I continue?
