Santana sits with Quinn and Brittany in the school cafeteria, sulking companionably and watching the cold air condense the moisture in her breath. The forecast promised snow today but hasn't delivered, and school proceeds as usual. Things seem pretty unusually quiet, though, and it takes Santana a moment to realize why.

"You know, I haven't seen the hobbit in a while," she says. "Wonder what's up."

"Oh, she's got a cold," Quinn supplies distractedly.

"What the fuck? How do you know that?"

Quinn blinks, looks up from her book, raises an eyebrow. "Just guessing."

Santana frowns at her. "Weirdo."

"Hmm. I better go, I've got AP Chemistry up next." She sticks a finger in her book to mark her place as she gets up, the fucking nerd.

Santana turns her frown on Brittany. "Quinn's acting weird," she states.

"People are always acting weird," Brittany replies. "It's something I've noticed."

"She doesn't even really have chem right now. I know that 'cause I'm in the same fucking class. And she knows I know, for fuck's sake."

"Maybe she's a Russian spy."

"She's not Russian, she's Irish."

"Oh. Maybe she's an Irish spy, then," Brittany says easily, and then scrunches up her nose. "Are you sure? She looks really Russian."

"Whatever. She's acting weird."

Santana eyes Quinn suspiciously whenever she spots her for the rest of the day. At one point, she catches her whistling.

The next day, Quinn shows up at school coughing and sniffling like it's a goddamn Olympic sport.

"I've got a cold," is her patently uninspiring explanation.

"No shit, Hawking," Santana tells her. "How'd you catch it?"

Quinn just smirks and ignores her completely. "I think I'll go home early today. I've got some… thing to take care of."

Brittany winks at her, and Quinn blushes.

Santana gapes. "What? What just happened? What's going on with Quinn?"

Brittany shakes her head. "Come on, Santana. Quinn is a classy lady. She doesn't kiss and tell."

Quinn turns around to stick her tongue out at them.

"Classy my ass," Santana mutters. Brittany obligingly squeezes said body part. "It's probably just the weather."

"It's a good weather to be hot for Berry, I guess," Brittany agrees.

Quinn can be seen still blushing furiously and smiling stupidly and basically almost skipping gaily all the way to the school gates.

"Catching a cold has some fucking alarming side effects, huh," Santana remarks.

"Yeah," says Brittany. "I'm pretty sure I also, like, sneezed once."

Santana sniffs. "Fuck this. I'm getting us earmuffs."

They link their pinkies on their way out of the cafeteria. Brittany's pinky feels cold. Santana resolves to get her some nice fuzzy gloves, too.