"I'm disappointed, yes, but you should let this be a learning experience for all of you-"
"Yeah," Santana snorts. "A lesson to not kiss onstage and ruin our chances of winning."
Will goes to shout, but is interrupted by a tall, darker-skinned man, around the kids' age.
"My name is Santiago Torres, I am the employer of a family who has close relations with one of your members. They wish to offer you a trip to Los Angeles, all expenses paid, on two conditions. One, you will stay with the family in their house. Two, you all come." Santiago smiles. "We expect your answer by tomorrow, when we fly out. And Mr. Schu? You are allowed to take Ms. Pillsbury, if she wishes."
The man leaves, everyone exploding into enough conversation that no one notices Santana and Quinn leaving.
"This is fucking bullshit, Santiago!" Santana protests. "Our parents can't just do that!"
"They can, and they did." Santiago replies, frowning at her language. "Your parents, my gracious employers, decided way before I arrived at McKinley. Quinn, Santana, please believe me when I say your parents mean no harm."
"Well, it's a little fucking late for that," Santana snaps angrily. "She missed our performances. He made sure our little brother missed it too. There's no way in hell they'll get away with this."
"Ms. Lopez-Fabray, please-"
"No, Quinn says flatly. "I agree with my sister."
They walk away, to the limo that will take them to their home in Cali.
S&B Q&R S&B Q&R S&B Q&R
Quinn isn't entirely sure when she passed out, all she knows is Santana roughly shaking her awake, the Latina rubbing her eyes as well.
"We're home?" Quinn asks, voice gravelly from sleep.
"Yeah, home," Santana grumbles, not entirely believing the connotation under the word home. "Let's go, baby sister."
"You're four months older than me, shut up!" Quinn lightly smacks Santana's shoulder.
"Yeah, but you're also four months taller than me," Santana says, then frowns. "Never mind, that made more sense in my head than it did out loud."
"A lot of things you say make more sense in your head," Quinn just rubs San's hair. "I bet Carlos is excited to see you."
"They won't get back util later tonight," Santana pushes Quinn away, then checks her phone. "Never mind, they won't be back until after Glee comes."
"Oh," Quinn says sadly. "I really want to see Carlos."
"So did I," Santana says, unlocking the door and stepping into the roomy house. "It's about 10, we should go to bed, be nice and awake for when Glee arrives."
Quinn rolls her eyes at her sister. "If it weren't for the fact I know you don't like this, I'd think you're excited."
"Shut the hell up, Fabray," Santana snaps, cheeks growing brighter. (Ethnic people don't blush? Ha.)
"It's Fabray-Lopez, thanks to our parents," Quinn retorts. "And I know it's because you'll get to see Brittany."
"I'm going to bed," she growls, punching Quinn as she passes.
"Ow! Hey, I was just kidding! 'Tana, come on. It was a joke!"
"I know, Quinn. I'm still going to bed." Santana smiles, albeit wearily. "Goodnight, Quinnie. I love you."
"Night, 'Tana." Quinn replies, smiling back. "Love you too."
Santana steps into her room, lined with her own drawings. Her guitar, piano, ukulele, and drum set pushed into the corner, presumably by Carlos or Santiago.
Everything is black and white, in contrast to Quinn's colorful room. Everything is white, with the exception of most of her clothes, a rug, and her bedsheets. The only real color in there is the instruments, as most of her colorful pictures are in the toy room, painted or drawn mostly for Carlos.
Just as she expected, Quinn comes creeping into her room just a few minutes later.
"Can I sleep in here?" she asks shyly. Santana nods, stripping her clothes and putting on pajamas. They climb into bed together, Santana automatically curling around Quinn.
Quinn wakes up to Santana leaving. She groans, but a careful hand on her back quiets her.
"I'm just going to do the morning workout," Santana whispers. "Before Glee gets here."
Quinn falls asleep again, waking up, again, but this time to Santiago coming in, his deep voice shouting a hello.
Quinn quickly changes and runs downstairs, grabbing some pancakes Mrs. White, the cook, made, happy she made vegan options.
"Where's Satan?" Artie asks. "I mean, not that I really mind. More time without absolute hell."
Santiago and Quinn frown at the club, excluding Britt, Puck, and Rachel, laughing at her but he stays silent.
"Do you have an elliptical?" Rachel asks, silencing the laughs, only for Finn to talk.
"I bet Satan broke it so you can't use it."
"Mr. Hudson, for the wellbeing of you and your dignity, refer to Santana Lopez as Satan one more time and I will not hesitate to throw you out of here." Santiago smiles sweetly. "Now, Ms. Berry, if you would follow me, I'd be delighted to show you the gym, which has a wide array of machines, a basketball court, and a lacrosse field. Although, I must admit that is in the backyard."
"I'm coming too!" Puck and Sam shout at the same time, the rest hesitantly following after the small group, Quinn trying to scream at Santiago through her eyes.
The door to the gym opens, and the club stares at Santana, who's doing laps around the basketball court while dribbling the ball.
"What the fuck," Artie shouts angrily. "What the hell is Santana doing here already? We were told she'd get here after us."
Santana stops and glares, only to look up at the sound of the electronic gates opening.
"Papi, Mami, and Carlos are home," Santana sighs quietly. "Let's go face the parents."
Everyone follows the sisters outside, where they see two stern looking parents and one excited kid.
"Carlos!" Quinn cries out, and the boy leaps into her arms.
"Quinnie! Mami said 'Tana wasn't coming," he frowns. "She also said everyone hates her, and rightfully so. Quinnie, what does that mean?"
"Carlos," Mrs. Lopez snaps. "Not here, boy. People will stare."
The family, minus Santana walk back inside, while Santana controls her breathing, staving off a panic attack.
"Santana? What was that?" Puck asks quietly.
