Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews. I hope everyone continues to enjoy my weird sense of humor. By way of explanation, in case it wasn't clear, Brittany is Charlie and Quinn's younger sister. Brittany married Blaine, who is very gay. Quinn is bored with her life with Puck, and Santana and Charlie are a little boring.
FRIDAY
"Mom, Aunt Brittany's here."
Quinn heard Beth's call and sighed. Not this again. She really didn't have time for this. Brittany was a colossal screw up when it came to pretty much everything in life.
"Mom!"
She rolled her eyes at Beth's frantic cry. Fun crazy Aunt Britt has always been Beth's favorite, but she assumed that something has her daughter unsettled.
It's about time Beth realized that Brittany is nothing like Santa Claus. She's just a woman who breaks promises, loses her phone, mixes up important dates, or forgets to take out the garbage.
Like seeing the man behind the curtain.
She wiped her hands and slipped through the sliding glass door. "Oh Brittany. Honey, what happened?"
Her baby sister looked nothing like the prim and proper Fabray that she had been bred to be. She had huge puffy bags under her eyes from crying and her mascara was smeared along the tops of her cheeks. "I just—when did life turn to shit?"
No wonder Beth was so upset.
Speaking of, her daughter was still staring at Brittany like she was an artifact in a museum.
"Keep playing." Quinn assured her. She tugged Brittany's arm until her sister complied and followed her into the house. "What are you doing here, Britt?"
"You invited me. So we could plan the stuff for Mom and Dad's anniversary? All weekend."
Quinn stared at her. "Seriously Britt?"
"Don't you remember?" Brittany defended, before her face fell and she groaned. "Did I get the date wrong?"
"Yep." Quinn would smile if it wasn't the worst possible timing. "Mom and Dad's anniversary is next weekend."
"No! I put it in my phone." Brittany patted her pockets. "Shit!"
"Did you lose your phone again?"
"No! I'm sure—damn it, where did it go?"
Brittany turned to Quinn, "I just need someone to talk to."
"No. No. Seriously. This is the worst possible weekend for you to do this to me. Puck's got a big project at work and I am on Beth duty all weekend."
"This is the worst possible weekend for me to do this to you?" Brittany scoffed. "I just found my husband sleeping with Dave."
"Oh." Quinn winced. That had to hurt.
"My husband. Blaine. Is gay." Brittany fell apart once more, tears streaming down her face.
"Yeah." Quinn patted her awkwardly. "I mean, that's such a surprise."
"I know!" Brittany agreed, completely missing the lack of sincerity in Quinn's tone. "I just can't believe he would do that?"
"Yeah." Quinn shifted on her feet. "I would never had guessed." She paused for a moment, waiting for Brittany to say something else before adding, "so, where are you staying?"
"With Daddy." Brittany's tears welled up again and Quinn rolled her eyes.
"Cool." She tried to be empathetic, but really it was Brittany's own fault.
For all of her baby sister's surprise, the announcement didn't come as a shock to Quinn. She had suspected Blaine was gay the moment she first met him. She had caught him checking out Noah's ass on numerous occasions, which puzzled her, because Santana had a much better ass than Puck did.
Not that she would ever let Charlie catch her looking.
Quinn watched the idea form in her sister's mind and stopped it as soon as she could. "No. I don't have time to babysit you all weekend. I'm sorry about Blaine, really. But Beth needs me—"
"So stick her in front of the TV and come out for drinks with me. She's not an infant, she's six. Come on, it will be fun."
"Britt, I can't. I promised Puck. Maybe you can get Santana and Charlie—"
"Oh no. I need about a gallon of vodka just to spend five minutes with them."
"Britt."
"Quinn please. I can't go back to Mom and Daddy, not tonight. And I can't deal with the perfect happy couple alone."
Quinn eyed her sister. "'Perfect happy couple'? What do you call Puck and me?"
Brittany looked back at her pointedly. "Do you really want me to answer that? Please, will you just ask?"
Quinn sighed. It had been a long time since she had done anything like that. It could be fun, though with Brittany by her side it could get dangerous fairly quickly, "We invite Charlie and Santana or no deal."
Brittany huffed. "Fine. Now go suck Puck's dick so we can go."
Quinn rolled her eyes. "And you wonder why your marriage fell apart. Good marriages don't work that way. Communication is key."
Brittany snorted and slumped into the chair at the head of the kitchen table. "Thanks Judy."
Quinn stuck out her tongue and made her way to Puck's office. They had spent a small fortune soundproofing his office when she was pregnant with Beth. To be honest, every day with Puck felt like she was living—well sort of the exact same day all over again.
"Sorry Honey, I'm too busy."
"Too busy for what? I haven't said anything."
"I know I promised I would be there for family dinners, but I really need to finish this report."
Quinn's silence made him look up. It was uncharacteristic that he could bow out of a family responsibility without having to listen to her nag him to death. The way she bit her lip made him think she was up to something. "What? What's wrong?"
"Brittany's here."
He groaned. "Why? Oh." He rolled his eyes. "She got the date wrong, didn't she?"
"Yeah." Quinn winced. This already wasn't going well.
Puck scoffed. "Why doesn't she go bug Charlie?"
"She doesn't want to deal with them alone. She found Blaine in their bed with someone else." She explained. "It is just really hard on her right now."
"Blaine cheated on her with another woman?" Puck put down his pen and turned to his wife in complete and utter shock. He would have assumed they would end in divorce, not that Blaine would find another woman on the side. "Wow. I—"
Quinn shook her head. "No, it was Dave. Their gardener."
Puck chuckled humorlessly and turned back to his work. "Well it was about time. Yeah, I can figure out why she's such a disaster."
"Noah—" She sighed, trying to think of what she could do to change his mind. It was a game she played often, manipulating him and guiding him to do what she wanted. It would be so much easier if he just would do what she asked without the mind games. But no he had to be difficult.
"No, the answer is still the same. She can't stay, Quinn I have to finish this report."
She cracked her neck. Time for the real negotiating. "Look, I'll just take Britt out for the night and then send her back to my parents. I'll put Beth to bed all next week." She bartered.
"Quinn. I really can't get away." He shook his head obstinately.
She looked over his shoulder to see what he was working on, only to find the local Fantasy Football rankings displayed across the screen. Typical. Had to work—yeah, right. "I'll also handle bath time for the next two weeks. All you have to do is read her a story and put her to bed." She offered.
Puck paused. That was a serious concession. "Quinn, I really don't have time this weekend."
"I'm not talking about this weekend, I'm talking about tonight." Quinn pointed out. She sighed, and looked back to the door, grateful for a second that they had spent so much to soundproof it from the rest of the house. "Fine, I'll give you a blow job."
"Right now?" Puck put down his pen and turned to her fully. His eyes wide as he sat up a little straighter.
"No!" Quinn arched her brow. "I thought you were busy?"
Puck looked her over as if to gauge how serious she really was. When she didn't back down, he shrugged. "I mean, it's not like it will take long."
"Seriously? If I do it right now, you'll be fine if we go?" Quinn eyed him skeptically. That seemed to easy.
Puck fidgeted a little. "Well it's not going to be just the pair of you? Like you'll take Charlie with you, right maybe Santana too?"
"Why? Do you think Brittany and I need a babysitter?" Quinn's eyes narrowed.
"No, I think Brittany needs three babysitters." Puck scoffed.
"How much trouble do you really think she can get in?"
He frowned. Quinn probably wasn't going to do it anyway, he should get back to work."I don't know Quinn, wasn't she the one who totaled your father's car when she was fourteen?"
Quinn chuckled. She noticed the droop of his shoulders which only strengthened her resolve. "Well that's true. But you'd really be okay with this?"
"With getting a blow job, yeah." He smiled wide.
"So I do it right now—"
"And I will watch Beth so you and Brittany can go tonight." He agreed, then thought better of it and added. "As long as you take Charlie and Santana."
"Alright." She conceded.
"Yes!"He grinned. She arched her brow and he blushed. "I mean, it's just been a while." His grin broadened and he pushed away from his desk and turned the chair to face her.
Yeah, a while, she thought. She fought the urge to grimace—this was her husband. It shouldn't be weird. It shouldn't be awkward.
But it was.
If she was going to do this, she was going to get it over with quickly.
Aware that she had the upper hand, she pulled back. "Maybe I shouldn't, I mean Beth's right outside—"
Puck deflated. "Yeah, you're probably right." He frowned and she could almost see his disappointment.
Then she went in for the kill. "If I do it right now, we get the whole weekend."
"Okay." He grinned and shifted in his chair, squirming in expectation.
She stepped toward the chair and Puck frantically pulled at his belt and unzipped himself. Quinn pulled him free from his pants and boxers. She shot him a quick smile and he shifted excitedly, his cock hardening in anticipation.
She knelt in front of him and glanced at his semi-erect member. It wasn't anything to write home about. Not that she had a lot to compare to, since she and Puck had been high school sweethearts and had gotten married soon after graduation.
She dragged her tongue along the length of his shaft, pausing slightly at the tip where pre-cum was already gathering. He groaned and she rolled her eyes but pulled back and brushed her lips lightly against the tip of his member. His hips bucked, begging for more contact and he put his hands against the back of her head to force her closer. She swatted his hands away, holding them firmly against the arms of his office chair. She took him into her mouth easily and began to suck, gently at first and then more rhythmically.
"Quinn. Oh, that's amazing. Yeah."
Oh baby. She mocked silently and pulled back. It was hard to think of this as anything sexy when he talked like that. "Shhh. No talking if you want me to finish."
He gulped. "Sorry."
She smirked and placed her lips against the base of his penis once more. He groaned loudly and she fought the urge to roll her eyes (barely). She resumed her pace, painting her tongue against his tip every so often and felt him shiver beneath her. She felt his climax building and, despite the desire to pull away and shield herself from the upcoming mess, took his cum into her mouth. He panted, coming down from the waves and growing limp while she pulled back. She spat the sticky slop into the trash bin next to his desk.
"Quinn. That was—" He took a deep shuddering breath. "That was incredible."
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "So you'll watch Beth for the weekend?"
"Of course." He leaned back in his chair, his eyes dazed. "Yeah. I mean, honey that was so good."
"You're welcome." She smiled.
Maybe if she kept smiling, she would start feeling something.
Something was better than this shell she was now.
At least she hoped so.
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Charlie tightened a bolt on the radiator and wiped her brow with the cloth she kept for the sole purpose of preventing herself from having huge grease stains across her forehead. Santana used to poke fun of her all the time when she walked around like an asshole with black marks all over her face until Charlie had finally gotten in the habit of keeping a sweat rag. She heard her phone ring, but ever since Mia played with it last night she wasn't sure if it was her alarm or her new ring tone.
She cracked her neck while making her way over to her barely used desk in the corner of the shop. It wasn't good for much other than holding the mess of papers scattered across it and for a safe place to keep her phone. She pushed past the different papers Santana had given her that outlined her wife's expansion plan. The garage was doing just fine. The last thing she wanted to worry about was expanding. Expanding meant new locations, office work rather than the dirty gritty work with her hands, and more annoying clients to deal with.
She wasn't sure that was what she wanted.
Finally locating her phone, her eyes widened at the time. "Shit." She wiped her hands on her coveralls and cradled her phone between her head and her shoulder while she packed up to go home. "Hey Quinn."
Santana was going to kill her for being late.
Maybe she really should start setting an alarm to tell her when to go home.
'Chuck, its me.'
"Britt, why are you calling from Quinn's phone?" She asked the first question that came to her mind, then remembered her irritation with the childhood nickname. "And don't call me Chuck."
'I lost mine.'
The simple answer made Charlie laugh. She rolled her eyes and patted her pocket for her keys. "Of course you did. What's up?"
'You and Santana are having a weekend with me and Quinn.'
"We are?" Charlie pulled her phone back and placed the call on speaker, pulling up the calendar. "No, tonight's—" she trailed off and cleared her throat. "And tomorrow is Lowe's day which means that Sunday is going to be laundry day." Brittany fell silent for a moment and Charlie checked again to make sure she hadn't lost the call. "Britt?"
'What's tonight?' Brittany asked curiously, a hint of teasing clear in her voice.
"None of your goddamn business." Charlie backpedaled. Checking to make sure that she had everything, she locked up for the night and made her way to the car.
Brittany cackled at Charlie's obvious distress. This is exactly what she needed this week. 'You mean sex, right? You two are scheduling sex?'
"No." Charlie retorted, though they both could hear the lie in her voice. She pursed her lips tight. Damn it, she hated that she was a terrible liar.
'Can you two get any lamer? Just when I think you can't surprise me, I find out stuff like this.'
Charlie groaned, despite knowing Brittany couldn't see her, she felt the tips of her ears flushing deep red in embarrassment. "Shut up. My point is, we have plans."
'Those are your plans. That does not count as a plan. You are in need of an intervention.'
"No I'm not. We're fine." She opened up her beat up old jeep and slipped into the drivers' seat.
'Quinn and I already asked Mom and Dad to watch the kids. Dad feels so bad for me that he reserved three rooms for us at the Crown Plaza. You are coming, if we have to drag you kicking and screaming.'
Charlie frowned thoughtfully. It might be fun to do something different. Truthfully, a night away from the kids sounded heavenly. "Let me check with Santana."
'Chuck.' Brittany whined. 'Please? I really need this tonight.'
Charlie's eyes narrowed, trying to think back to if there was some major catastrophe that she was supposed to know about. Shrugging, she knew she probably shouldn't ask, but did anyway. "Why? What happened?"
'I found Blaine cheating on me.' Brittany sniffled. 'With a man.'
"Oh, fuck." Charlie groaned. Now she owed Santana fifty dollars. Damn it. She bit her lip, realizing Brittany was still on the line hoping that her outburst had sounded supportive. "I mean, that really sucks Britt."
Brittany continued for the next ten minutes, emphatically wondering how he could have kept this from her for so long. Charlie barely listened during the drive home, offering the grunts and appropriate words to make it seem like she was listening.
'Please come out with us?' Brittany begged again.
Charlie sighed and turned down the street to their mid-sized suburban home. Drinks wouldn't be that bad. She would be an idiot to turn down free babysitting. "Fine. Where do you want to meet us?" She made the mental calculations in her head.
Santana just won fifty bucks. She'd probably be in a fine mood as long as she asked before Brittany could blind-side her wife. She would just need to make it home before—
'We are all pulling up now.' Brittany said, stepping out of Quinn's car. Judy and Russell were already walking up the drive, but paused at the sight of the familiar red SUV. Judy waved excitedly when she saw Charlie pull up as well.
"Oh I'm fucked." Charlie ended the call and waved back at her mother.
Hopefully Santana would forgive her.
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"Guys, isn't this fun?" Brittany asked excitedly. They had found a nice table in the bar that Brittany insisted was the 'best in the area'.
Santana leaned over to her wife and spoke lowly, loud enough for Charlie to hear her over the crowd, but soft enough that Charlie's sisters couldn't overhear. "I'd much rather be watching Netflix."
Unfortunately, at that moment the roar of the crowd dulled and both Brittany and Quinn easily picked up the comment. Charlie snorted and nodded in agreement, missing the looks of disgust on her twin and baby sister's face. "We should watch Sherlock again."
Brittany stared at them. "You guys are so lame."
"We are not." Santana rolled her eyes. She had been more than a little annoyed to find all of the Fabrays at her doorstep, but that was the price she paid for marrying into this weird co-dependent family. "You are just lucky we didn't have anything better to do."
Brittany grinned. "Are you sure you didn't have better plans?" Her voice was light but Santana could hear the gentle mocking from a mile away.
Charlie flushed but kept silent.
"Well pretty much anything would be better than this—" Santana gestured to the bar around them. Drinking herself into oblivion wasn't exactly her favorite weekend activity anymore. "But I couldn't exactly say no with Russell on my doorstep and Judy planning a tea party with my four year old, could I?"
"We are just doing you a favor." Quinn retorted, returning to the table after ordering their drinks. "You guys need to live a little."
"We live plenty." Santana scoffed. Normally she and Brittany got along quite well, but lately Brittany seemed to be picking apart their relationship. She held back several quips, well aware that tonight was probably not the time to remind Brittany that at least they weren't getting a divorce.
"Yeah, when was the last time you had date night?" Brittany challenged.
Santana scoffed and pulled out the calendar on her phone. "Last Tuesday."
"A week day?" Quinn didn't bother to keep the judgment out of her voice. "How exciting."
"Just face it," Brittany took a long sip of her fruity cocktail. "You, Santana and Charlie Lopez are complete sticks in the mud."
She was about to retort when Brittany's loud announcement must have caught someone else's attention as they interrupted excitedly. "Santana? Santana Lopez" A voice from the past made Santana turn sharply, gulping down her drink quickly. She cringed in recognition.
"Oh." She cringed as the shorter woman came closer and wrapped her in a tight hug. She kept her back straight, patting her former—whatever on the back awkwardly. "Hey, Rachel."
"Santana Lopez. It's been far too long. How fortuitous, you and I spending the same night out in the same bar in the greatest city in the world."
"Rachel? As in Rachel Berry?" Quinn hissed. "You didn't tell me you knew Rachel Berry."
Santana ignored her sister-in-law and plastered a faux smile on her face. She felt Charlie grip her hand supportively. "Hobbit. What are you doing here, mingling with the common folk? I thought that was beneath you?"
Rachel frowned. It had been years and she was surprised Santana still had this much animosity toward her. She supposed Santana must have felt very similar to her own current emotions. Her frown deepened, she hadn't ever really considered that before. But, with everything, she mostly needed to know that there was a way to get over such hurt. And if anyone knew that, it would be Santana Lopez.
So she would fix this. If Santana could move past it, maybe she could too. Maybe she and Finn were a relationship worth saving. "Santana, it's been years. I thought we could put our grievances behind us. Let's not be petty."
Santana snorted. "Petty?" She felt Charlie's hand rub circles on the back of her own and felt her rage lessen slightly. "That's rich, coming from you."
Quinn practically shoved Santana out of the way and smiled brightly. "Hi, I don't think we've met. I'm Quinn Fabray. I've always been a huge fan."
"Quinn." Rachel practically purred, eyeing Quinn hungrily. "Enchanted to meet you." It had been a while since she had been with a woman. Maybe all she needed was a rebound to get back at Finn.
"'Enchanted to meet you'?" Santana mocked, pulling a face of disgust. Brittany snorted loudly at the uncharacteristic display. "Who even talks like that?" She wondered aloud.
"I talk like that." Rachel reminded calmly.
"Did you ever think that maybe that was part of the problem?"
Rachel turned back to Quinn. "It is always a pleasure to meet a fan."
"Good to see you haven't changed Rach." Santana used the nickname she knew always made Rachel cringe.
"You too, it seems you are still the bitch I remember." Rachel retorted.
Charlie stood, placing herself between Santana and Rachel protectively. "Don't talk about my wife like that."
"Wife? You're married?"
"For six years now." The blonde remarked coldly.
"I don't remember receiving an invitation." Rachel mused looked Charlie up and down, sizing up the taller woman.
"I don't remember sending you one." Santana smiled and pulled Charlie back to her seat at the table. "As you can see, it's quite busy tonight so just go find your hobbit hole and leave us alone."
Rachel frowned but the last thing she needed was Santana Lopez as part of the 'I Hate Rachel Club'. "My friend owns this bar. Let me buy your drinks tonight."
"Drinks? You think drinks make up for—"
"In the VIP lounge?" Rachel added hopefully. Jake owed her and if it helped keeping her name out of the tabloids with nasty, career crushing rumors, then it had to be worth it. Right?
Santana eyed Rachel about ready to say everything she had thought about the other woman when Quinn tugged her aside and whispered low so that Rachel wouldn't overhear. "Santana, please. Just say yes. You know what a big fan I am of Rachel Berry's. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity."
"Yeah Quinn, and I think you're an idiot."
"Please, you owe me."
"No, actually, I don't."
"Fine. I'll owe you." Quinn was desperate. A chance to be this close to Rachel Berry? She wasn't about to pass that up.
Santana glanced at Charlie for her wife's opinion. Charlie looked at her for a moment and then shrugged.
Quinn groaned. She hated it when they did the whole silent communication thing.
"Three nights, two days of babysitting. We can decide whether to use it all at once or in pieces." Santana shook her head before Quinn could protest. "That's my only offer."
"That's outrageous." Quinn hissed.
"Fine." Santana turned back to Rachel who had been distracted by Brittany complimenting her, probably, and smiled. "Sorry Rach. Looks like we're going to—"
"Take you up on that lovely offer." Quinn broke in.
Rachel grinned, completely delighted. "Excellent. Let me talk to the owner, I'll put in your drink order too, the entrance to the VIP area is just over there." She gestured to a curtained off area. "Just tell them you are with Barbra Streep."
"Who?"
"Rachel's fake name for when she goes out." Santana waved off the question. "I'll have the most expensive drink on the menu. Whatever that is, make it a double."
Rachel frowned. She hadn't expected that, but she supposed maybe she should have. It's what she would have done to Finn, so she guessed she couldn't complain.
"A beer—"
Santana put her lips gently against her wife's ear. "So help me Charlie, if you order anything less than $20 a glass I will end you. If this is the only way I can get even a little bit of revenge on Rachel Berry, so be it."
Charlie cleared her throat and sat up. "Rum and coke for me. But uh, why don't you make sure the rum is top shelf?"
Santana beamed proudly and allowed her lips to trail down from where they had been to leave a soft kiss just below Charlie's ear. "You are so getting laid later." She murmured.
Rachel turned with a huff. If Santana was anything like she remembered, this was going to be expensive fast. She met back up with the group inside the curtained off area. The tall blonde she still hadn't met yet was talking quickly. "So I say we do something crazy. Something exciting."
Rachel sat down beside the friendliest face in the room. "I agree. Tonight is a night for memories. Santana, what should we do?"
Quinn, seated beside her, and the other blonde stared at her incredulously. "Santana? Why would you ask her?" The other, taller blonde asked, not bothering to hide her distaste. Santana could almost be guaranteed to come up with a plan that was safe, boring, and lame.
"I'll have you know Brittany that I can be plenty spontaneous." Santana huffed.
"You?" Brittany scoffed. "Please. Didn't we just say that you are scheduling sex with your wife?"
Santana rolled her eyes. "It doesn't matter if we schedule our sex."
"Uh, it does matter. You two are the most boring people I know." Brittany retorted without missing a beat.
"When was the last time you two did something spontaneous and fun?" Quinn added knowingly, "And don't you dare look at your calendar."
Charlie flushed. "I don't know why that's any of your business."
"Fuck Chuck." Brittany sighed dramatically. "It's just so sad."
"No. We did—" Charlie trailed off, trying to think. She grinned triumphantly. "Two weeks ago."
"Really?" Quinn shook her head. "And what did you do?"
"Charlie don't—"
"Santana surprised me with a new game." Charlie defended, "The kids went to bed early"
"A sex game?" Brittany sat up and grinned. Maybe Charlie and Santana were more interesting than she gave them credit for.
"A video game." Santana corrected.
Brittany huffed and sat back in her chair. "Lame."
"I played for three hours while she read her new book." Charlie continued, unaware of her sisters' growing confidence. "Then we had sex and went to bed."
Santana groaned and rubbed her eyes while the other women gave sad condescending smiles. "That's kind of the point Charlie."
Rachel watched the interchange with fascination. This was an opportunity to get back on Santana's good side and she wasn't about to pass it up. Santana wanted these other women to think she was adventurous? Well Rachel certainly had the stories to prove it. "Santana used to get me into plenty of trouble my first year at NYADA."
Quinn snapped her head toward Rachel, then back to Santana as if suddenly putting the pieces together. "Wait. Were you two together?"
"No." Santana spat the same instance that Rachel nodded emphatically with her own, "we were high school sweethearts."
"Aw, that's adorable!" Brittany squealed.
Charlie stood, trying to flag down the server. "Where was that rum and coke?" This was not exactly a conversation she wanted to have, ever. Santana had talked about Rachel at length, but having her sisters interrogate her about her sex life with her wife and her wife's ex-girlfriend beside her? It was the subject of several of Charlie's worst nightmares.
Quinn blinked for a few minutes before shaking her head and turning back to the couple in need. "That doesn't change the fact that you two are desperately in need of something fresh and new."
"Santana?" Rachel shook her head. "I can't even believe it. I mean, do you remember the time we were arrested for having sex in the alley?"
"What's taking the drinks so long?" Santana groaned. She had honestly hoped she would never run into Rachel Berry ever again. She supposed it was karma, though she couldn't think of what she possibly could have done to deserve this.
Charlie nodded emphatically, glad that someone else was desperate for liquor as well. "I'll just go get them."
"Don't you dare." Santana warned. She was not going to be left alone in this minefield.
Sensing a lull in the conversation, Rachel attempted to get them back on track. "Or what about the time—" Rachel began, only to have Santana slap her palm down on the table in front of her.
"Stop. Don't say another word." She warned dangerously. The last thing she needed was for Charlie's sisters to hear about her pre-Charlie escapades
Rachel huffed, annoyed. It had been a long time since anyone spoke to her like that. She wasn't certain if she liked it. "I guess it happens to everyone eventually. At least tell me you are still acting."
"Acting?" Brittany's eyes widened. "She can act?"
The server chose that moment to bring their drinks to the table. Charlie and Santana both drank hungrily, desperate for this night to be over already. One glance over at her wife, and Santana was sure they were on the same page. After tonight, they were going home. She didn't care if Russell and Judy tried to guilt trip them, they were done.
"You aren't acting?" It was Rachel's turn to stare at her incredulously. "I can't believe it! But you are so talented!"
"Were. Thank you very much." She waved a finger to grab the attention of the server. "We're going to need another round."
"You acted with Rachel Berry?" Quinn's enthusiasm was nauseating.
"Okay. Yes. Rachel and I were together. We moved here to start acting careers. She's a bitch, we broke up, I'm happily married. The end. Thanks for the nice night!" She smiled sarcastically and stood. "Please, let's not do this again."
"Oh Santana, you can't go!" Rachel cried, crocodile tears pooling behind the lids of her eyes and she leaned across Quinn to tug Santana back to her seat. "We can't leave things like this. I never got to say my apology."
Charlie cleared her throat awkwardly. "Uh, this night was supposed to be about Brittany, maybe we should go."
Brittany shook her head emphatically. "Nuh-uh. You two are the perfect distraction. If I can fix your marriage, maybe there's hope for me and Blaine."
Santana and Charlie shared a look and the former sighed and slinked back against the chair. "Fine."
"So Santana, what do you do?" Rachel prodded, hungry for the information on her ex. "If you aren't acting, I'm sure it's—"
"She's a dentist." Quinn grumbled a little. All this time Santana had known Rachel Berry and hadn't even thought to get her an autograph. She glared at her twin. Charlie clearly knew about this. Why hadn't they told her?
"A what?" Rachel's jaw dropped aghast. That was about the furthest thing possible from her expectations.
"I'm a dentist." Santana said purposefully slowly, her tone flat. "Or do you not know what that is?"
"Like Orin Scrivello." Rachel muttered to herself. "I guess it does make sense in a weird sort of way."
The Fabrays all looked at each other in confusion while Santana seemed to interpret the comment as an insult. "As opposed to what? A washed up actress who will be lucky to keep her career when the tabloid headlines drop Monday." At Rachel's horrified look, she grinned. "Yeah, I still have friends in the industry."
"It wasn't my fault and they know it."
"No, your husband just fathered the bastard baby of the wife of one of the best producers in the business. Rachel Berry, how utterly unprofessional." Santana scoffed. "It sucks, doesn't it? To be the one dealing with the consequences of a cheater. I can't say it has happened to a more deserving person."
Rachel frowned, but refused to let Santana get the better of her. She smiled apologetically, pasting her best actors face on. "I apologize, I think we've gotten a little off track. Charlie? Was it? So nice to meet you, I'm glad Santana found someone who can make her happy."
Charlie looked up from her drink, already feeling a light buzzing in her fingertips as the effects of her drink started to take hold. When did she become such a lightweight? "Thanks?"
"So Santana's a dentist. Appropriate. What is it that you do, Charlie?"
Charlie gulped.
"Leave her alone Rachel." Santana warned.
"What?" Rachel replied, feigning innocence. "I'm just making polite conversation. I do know how difficult that would be for you to understand."
Quinn and Brittany sat forward in their seats to see this go down. Charlie fidgeted awkwardly but seemed determined to try to act like everything was normal. "I own my own shop."
"Oh." Rachel paused for a beat and she, Quinn and Brittany shared mutual looks of pity. "Like a flower shop?"
"No." Charlie fought the urge to feel embarrassed and sat straighter.
"She fixes cars." Santana spoke up defensively and rubbed her wife's knee affectionately. They paused as the server delivered the second round of drinks. Santana took a deep gulp of her own before adding. "Charlie has her own garage."
"How nice." Rachel's smile broadened.
"It is." Santana insisted. "She's good with her hands."
"I'm sure you appreciate that." Rachel remarked.
"She's thinking of expanding."
"I didn't know mechanics could do that well." Rachel mused. The subtle dig landed its mark as she saw Santana's eyes darken.
"She put me through school." Santana beamed proudly, almost daring Rachel to retort with anything less than total admiration. Charlie had done a lot and she would be damned if Rachel Berry came in here and made Charlie feel inadequate.
"Wow. That's nice."
Santana rolled her eyes. She knew that tone. That was the morally superior tone when Rachel had decided she was going to win whatever argument was currently in front of them. "Rachel, stop—" She warned.
"What do you mean 'nice'?" Charlie broke in, licking her lips. "There's nothing wrong with being a mechanic."
"Oh of course. I didn't mean anything." Rachel shrugged innocently. "I mean, it's just interesting how things change. The Santana Lopez I knew always said she wanted to be with a woman with ambition and drive. I guess things really do change."
"The Santana Lopez you knew was also poor, broke and stuck with you. Forgive me if I think she was a little stupid." Santana retorted.
Charlie picked up the new drink that was just placed in front of her, swirling the dark amber liquid in the glass. Maybe her sisters were right. Maybe they were growing bored with one another. A glance at Santana made her mouth turn down. She wasn't about to let that happen.
"It's not stupid to have fun." Brittany pointed out. Charlie noticed that her sister's second drink was already half-way gone. "That's why we should do something crazy. Something we'll never forget."
"I already wish I could forget tonight." Santana grumbled.
Charlie turned to her wife, thoughtfully. "But maybe, like it wouldn't hurt for us to try something new, right?"
Santana's jaw dropped in betrayal. "Traitor."
Brittany squealed in delight and Quinn sat up proudly. "Don't worry Santana, we'll help get you out of this rut. Rachel, maybe you would like to join us?"
"Anything to help Santana." Rachel sat up proudly. "I have experience in this sort of thing. When Finn and I started having troubles, we tried a lot of different scenarios. Role-play, exhibition, bondage. If I remember right, Santana used to really enjoy bondage—"
"I swear Rachel, if I hear one more thing like that out of your mouth I will take off this ridiculously uncomfortable shoe and beat you to death with it."
Brittany scratched her chin thoughtfully. "This is seriously the most interesting you two have ever been."
Charlie gulped down the rest of her drink and flagged the server for another. She didn't know that. Maybe it was the liquor already starting to make itself known, but she couldn't stop herself from asking, "You like that type of stuff? We've never—is our sex life dull?"
"No!" Santana insisted the same second everyone else cried with a resounding "Yes!" Except for Brittany who had nearly shouted "Of course it is!"
Santana saw the insecurity from a mile away. "I'm perfectly happy with our sex life. But if you think we should try, I'll do it. Sure. Let's try something new."
"There's an expo tomorrow where you can learn about bondage together! We should all go!" Brittany was nearly dancing with excitement.
Santana watched her wife's face and nodded. "Sure. We'd like that."
"But if I am going to a sex convention with my sister's, we are going to need way more alcohol." Charlie eagerly accepted the next round.
Rachel hummed and took a long sip of her third gin and tonic. "You know, it's nothing to be ashamed of, the need to spice things up a little is a need we all face."
"Yeah, look at Quinn." Brittany agreed. "She gave Puck a blow job so we could have this weekend. There was no planning, she just went in and got the job done."
"Got the job done?" Santana scoffed. "You sound like it's a chore."
"Isn't it?" Quinn chuckled, a little less inhibited than she normally would be. "But Charlie, I can absolutely give you advice."
"Please. You were manipulating him." She rolled her eyes. "Totally doesn't count as sex if you have an ulterior motive."
"Well, when was the last time you ate out your wife just because you wanted to?" Quinn retorted and sat back smugly.
Charlie blinked and pulled out her phone, her sisters and Rachel groaning as she found the right date. "Last Tuesday, at our date. The kids were watching a movie at a friend's house."
Santana grinned and coughed to get Charlie's attention with a swift shake of her head. "No?" Charlie asked, confused.
"Remember Saturday?"
Charlie chuckled and clapped her hands excitedly. "I forgot about that."
"You shouldn't have." The tips of Santana's ears flushed a light pink but she added for the table's benefit. "It was your best work."
Charlie turned back to her twin and put her arm around her wife in a show of solidarity. "So Quinn, when was the last time Puck ate you out?"
Quinn's jaw dropped, unprepared for the sudden attention.
She shook her head. "That's not important. I mean, I bet you can't tell me when the last time Santana—"
"June 14th." They both responded simultaneously.
"What? Shouldn't you check your calendar to confirm?" Quinn teased, well aware that if she let this go then her sisters would be the ones interrogating her.
"No need." Santana grinned. Charlie's entire face flushed at the memory. "It was that good."
Rachel found herself nodding at the memory of just how good it could be, then shook her head. "Quinn, are you facing your own marital issues?"
"No!" Quinn insisted, just a little too quickly and little too loudly to be completely true. "Noah and I are perfectly happy."
"It shouldn't be a chore to sleep with your husband." Santana threw her own words back at her.
Charlie grinned. "There is no shame in needing a little help in the bedroom, Quinnie."
"Tonight is about Brittany." Quinn waved off their smug looks. "Let's focus on making sure she has a good time."
"I'm not a child." Brittany huffed petulantly, her face brightened as a golden idea struck. "But we can fix you too, Quinn."
"Oh Britt, I'm sure—"
"It just—" Brittany sniffled and Charlie rolled her eyes at the familiar ruse. Quinn was such a sucker. "It's just been really hard since Blaine—"
Quinn knew she was being manipulated. Ever since they were kids Brittany could make her do most things by pretending to cry. But she couldn't take it. "Fine."
She fiddled with her purse, well aware that all eyes were on her and waiting for her to say something. Her bag fell, almost slipping out of her hands before she caught it. With a resigned sigh, she began. "Everything just feels so off lately."
Had the bar not been so loud, Quinn—or really any other person seated around the table—might have heard Quinn's phone start ringing like a call was being attempted, but as it was they were all riveted.
"What do you mean?" Rachel asked intently. She was auditioning for a role as a supportive friend. She had this in the bag.
"Well Noah is just—he's not sexy."
Santana grimaced, Charlie winced, and Brittany took a long drink of her fruity concoction. "Go on." The youngest prodded.
Quinn sighed. "It was easier when I was the one working. Now that he's making all the money, it's like I can't get him to do anything without the promise of sex or a blow job."
Rachel grabbed Quinn's hand in a show of support. She really was nailing this whole friend thing. Quinn smiled at her. "But that's normal, right?"
"Yeah." Brittany shrugged.
Charlie looked at her sisters like they had grown another head. "No. That's not normal."
"Well we've already established that you two don't know anything. Rachel? What do you think?"
The brunette tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I think there's a difference between being in love with someone and being attracted to them."
Santana snorted. "Of course you do."
"If you aren't attracted to him anymore, then maybe it's time to find someone else." Rachel suggested as if Santana hadn't spoken.
Quinn sat up and grinned at the actor. "It's just—" She took a sip of her wine. "I just feel like I'm not in control of him anymore."
Charlie barked out a laugh and it was clear Santana was suppressing her own grin. Brittany hid her own chuckle with a cough. "And that's what you like? Being in control?"
"I don't know. But sometimes, I think the very sight of Puck just completely turns me off. He speaks and I feel my ovaries drying up. Like poof!" She laughed. "Gone."
Brittany winced and pried Quinn's glass out of her fingers. "Maybe you've had enough."
"Or maybe." Santana looked at her pointedly and motioned for another round of drinks. "Maybe you are just as bad as we are. Maybe you need to do something spontaneous and crazy in order to feel like yourself again."
Quinn's eyes widened. "Yeah. You're right. He's sucking all of the happiness out of my soul like a Dementor."
"I think that's a little far—" Charlie observed, then furrowed her brow. "Wait, you're reading Harry Potter to Beth? She's only six. Isn't that a little scary?"
Quinn waved the question away. "The first ones aren't that bad." She glanced at Rachel and felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment at the woman's quizzical look. She shifted just a little uncomfortably. "Beth is my daughter."
Rachel blinked in surprise and finished the rest of her drink, grateful that more was on the way. "And she's six?" She pushed away her surprise. "You don't look old enough to have children."
"Please!" Santana scoffed with no attempt to hide her annoyance. "We're all old enough to have children. Do you not even know basic biology? Or did you miss that memo when you had your last pregnancy scare?"
"Excuse me, Santana. We can't all be lesbians with fool proof contraception."
"We have two beautiful children, fuck you very much." Santana leaned into Charlie. "And what do you have? A washed up career?"
"Okay!" Brittany clapped her hands in an attempt to diffuse the tension. "Let's start now. We are going to go do something spontaneous. What will it be?"
She was met with silence.
"I have a friend who has a karaoke bar?" Rachel offered.
Charlie shook her head. "Ew no. Something else."
"Wait. You guys figure this out. Charlie, come with me. We have something to do first."
Brittany whistled loudly. "Go Santana! Fuck her good Chuck."
Charlie allowed herself to be pulled into the women's bathroom.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Santana eyed the stall with unfeigned disgust.
Charlie glanced nervously over to her wife. "They said we should try somewhere public, right?"
Santana shook her head, well aware that she must be drunker than she thought to even entertain the idea. But Charlie looked so wounded, so nervous, she couldn't stop herself from wanting to do anything to take that look off her stupid face. She pushed Charlie against the doors, pinning the blonde's hands against the cool metal and meeting her lips. Charlie's lip, begging for access.
Charlie moaned into the kiss, heat building in her core. Suddenly, she pulled back. "Wait. Should we really do this here?"
"Why not?" Santana stumbled a little bit at the sudden change in position. "We're trying to do something different."
"I just—" Charlie looked around. "Someone could walk in."
"Isn't that the point? It's dangerous."
"But my sisters are right outside."
Santana frowned and pushed Charlie into the handicapped stall and shut the door behind them, turning the lock without looking. "Better?"
Charlie grinned. "Much." This time, it was Santana pushed against the door. Santana resolved herself to just keep playing with those lips she loved so much until the worried look disappeared forever.
Charlie snaked her hands up Santana's shirt, quickly finding their way to knead the soft flesh of her breast. She pulled her lips back from Santana's, trailing their way downward to suck lightly on the brunette's pulse point.
Santana moaned, arching her back toward her wife's ministrations.
Charlie was so good at this.
The weight of their combined pressure, however, must have been too much for the flimsy lock. Just as Santana felt heat starting to build low in her core, the stall door flung open and Charlie fell right on top of her.
"Ow." Santana cringed, her head, elbow, and ankle all screaming out in instant flashes of pain.
"Oh crap, are you okay?" Charlie scratched the back of her head.
If this was what a little more excitement led to, maybe it was a bad idea.
X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X
Rachel pulled out her phone and frowned at the contact before forcibly hitting ignore and flinging her phone back into her bag. Brittany noticed the move and frowned sympathetically. "Boyfriend?" She guessed, gesturing to the phone.
"Ex-boyfriend." Rachel informed them.
Quinn beamed at the information and tried not to wonder why she felt like it mattered.
Brittany sipped her drink lightly. "Bad breakup?" She—of anyone—could definitely relate.
Rachel nodded. "He's been—he's been sleeping with someone else. And he keeps calling to see if I will take him back."
Quinn frowned. "You shouldn't take him back, he cheated."
"But—" Rachel paused and sighed. "I thought I loved him."
"I thought I loved my husband too." Brittany pointed out. "Until I found him in our bed sleeping with another man. Now I'm not so sure."
Rachel winced. "Ouch." Not willing to be outdone, though, she added. "Finn fathered a baby with his whore."
Brittany pondered that thoughtfully. Really she wasn't sure which one was worse.
Quinn bristled. "You deserve better than that." She took a deep drink of her wine, then her eyes widened. "But you will stay with us this weekend, right?"
"I'm not sure—" Rachel hesitated. She was already certain Santana wanted to murder her, but with Quinn's hand on her knee she felt her brain short-circuiting a little. "Santana—"
Quinn waved away the concern. "She'll be fine."
"Yeah, we're fixing her." Brittany beamed. "We'll fix you too."
Rachel grinned. "Alright. I shall accompany you." She liked this. Was this what it was like to have friends? She hadn't had close friends in a long time—Finn's jealousy was nearly out of control and she found it easier to simply avoid arguments.
But no longer.
Rachel Berry was a star.
"So if you could do anything, anything in the world, what would you do tonight?" Quinn asked. For Rachel, whatever the response, she was going to make it happen.
Brittany watched the interchange with interest. Maybe Blaine wasn't the only one who had been hiding their sexuality.
Rachel tapped her chin, thoughtfully considering Quinn's question. "I have always wanted to get a tattoo." She admitted. "Probably of a star. I always liked the idea of a physical reminder that anything was possible."
Quinn grinned and found her hand rub light circles on Rachel's upper knee. When had that gotten there? She blushed, but refused to remove her hand. "Let's do it!"
Rachel shook her head. "I shouldn't—I wish I were more daring but with my career—"
"I'll do it." The words were out of Quinn's mouth before she could stop them. "I'll get a star."
"You will?" Rachel was stunned. She was prepared for Quinn to remind her what a foolish idea it was, how tattoos were just some fad. But Quinn's immediate acceptance and even desire to do it herself—Rachel couldn't possibly find the other woman more attractive.
Quinn nodded. "As soon as Charlie and Santana come back, we will go."
Brittany frowned, looking around. It had been longer than she would have expected. "Speaking of Charlie and Santana, where are they?"
As if on cue, the couple limped around the corner and started the slow journey back to where the group was seated. "What happened?" Brittany rushed over to help Santana on her other side.
"Santana—" Charlie ran her hand through her hair. Maybe they should have called an ambulance. Maybe they should go to the hospital. She would be fine, even if hospitals did give her the creeps. She could just sit at Santana's side and they'd make sure her wife was okay.
"I fell." The brunette interrupted, not really willing to share their failed attempt with the others. She would be fine. She had been hurt much worse before. "What's the next plan?"
"I'm going to get a tattoo!" Quinn declared.
Rachel took Quinn's hand proudly. "Of a gold star, right Quinn?"
"Absolutely." The blonde agreed.
Santana snorted and leaned into her wife. "Quinn wants to be Rachel's bitch." She attempted to whisper though it was easily loud enough for Brittany to hear.
"How do you know?" Charlie replied with the same volume.
"Trust me."
Charlie nodded. "Always."
"I'll bet you twenty bucks they fuck by the end of the weekend." Santana added, eyeing them closely.
"You're on." Charlie nodded. Quinn was way too perfect to make that sort of mistake.
Brittany shook her head and helped Santana and Charlie out of the VIP room. "I feel like I don't even know who you two are anymore."
"Team Lopez for the win." Charlie sang softly to herself and Santana laughed loudly.
"Careful Charlotte or you might end up owing me more than you do." Santana used her left hand to tug playfully on her wife's hair.
Brittany leaned her head forward to look at them both incredulously. "You guys place bets?"
"Yup."
"Do you bet on Quinn often?" Brittany was entranced. There was no way all of this had been going on under her nose this whole time.
"On Quinn?" Santana snorted. "No." She waved her hand, the alcohol eliminating her filter. "We bet on all of you."
"So when I told you about Blaine…" Brittany trailed off when both women devolved into a fit of giggles. "You knew!"
"Of course we knew!" Santana retorted, straightening somewhat defensively even though she still couldn't put her full weight on her ankle.
"Yeah Britt," Charlie lowered her voice conspiratorially as if divulging the world's greatest secret, "We're lesbians."
Brittany ignored the comment. Was her sister always this interesting? No. It couldn't be. Charlie and Santana were sickeningly domestic. She and Blaine had more excitement than they did. "What else do you guys bet on?"
Charlie snorted and helped Santana into the cab that Quinn had tracked down. Luckily it was big enough to fit all of them, because Brittany wasn't sure that the others were sober enough to care.
"What else do we bet on?" Charlie furrowed her brow, seriously thinking. "I can't—"
"When your parents will realize we've been lying to them." Santana reminded her.
Charlie grinned. "Oh yeah. I already lost that one, but I've got double or nothing that it's in the next five years."
"You lie to Mom and Dad?" Brittany blinked incredulously.
"About what?" Quinn insisted.
"Don't tell them!" Charlie clamped her hand over her wife's mouth. "If they know that we don't actually go to your parents' house for Christmas, they'll tell."
Santana laughed underneath Charlie's hand. "I think you just told them."
"Aw, fuck." Charlie frowned. Suddenly, her eyes widened. "I'm drunk."
"I think we all are." Santana poked her wife in the stomach and grinned.
"Wait, you don't spend every other holiday in Ohio?" Quinn clarified.
Santana giggled while Charlie chuckled. "Nope." The blonde shook her head, beaming softly. "Santana's parents are Jehovah's Witnesses. They don't celebrate holidays."
Quinn's eyes widened incredulously. "You mean all this time we could have had Christmas dinner at your house? I've nearly had a panic attack every year with mom and dad."
Santana furrowed her brow. "Of course not, we wouldn't have invited you to our house for Christmas."
"Yeah." Charlie looked at her, confused. "Sometimes we go out of town."
"I can't believe you two!" Quinn threw up her hands and turned in her seat to face forward, away from the couple in the back that she had just discovered were the greatest traitors of all.
"So how long have they been married?" Rachel needled Quinn quietly, hoping that Santana was drunk enough she wouldn't mind a little prying.
"Six years." Quinn revealed, folding her arms and refusing to look back at what had the three others laughing so loudly. "I know, it seems like it has been much longer. They are a little disgustingly perfect."
Rachel quickly did the math. Six years meant they were married about two years after they broke up. She wasn't sure if she felt relieved or disappointed that Santana hadn't had a foolish indiscretion during their relationship as well. But maybe this meant there was still hope for her to find a happy ending after Finn's betrayal.
She was not jealous. Just because Santana was lovingly draped across the copy of the blonde sitting next to Rachel, did not mean that Rachel Berry was jealous. Rachel Berry didn't get jealous. She just got annoyed and frustrated when other people had what she deserved. "So tell me about Charlie."
Quinn stuck out her tongue in distaste. "She's boringly perfect."
"Oh?" Rachel frowned. She definitely still needed more information. Easily recognizing Quinn's jealousy, she tried a different tactic. "I bet that's annoying."
Quinn groaned. "Tell me about it." She frowned thoughtfully. "She wasn't always like that though. I remember when she had a different girl every night. Sometimes, she didn't even know their names. My parents were so embarrassed—heck, I was embarrassed that she couldn't seem to settle down."
Rachel nodded to show she was listening, taking in every detail. She felt her phone buzzing but made no move to answer it, instead captivated not only by the information about her ex-girlfriend but also by the blonde who was revealing the hidden facts.
"Then she met Santana and they were like obsessed with each other. Santana would call her to find out what type of mayonnaise to buy. Charlie wouldn't get her hair cut without asking Santana's opinion. Now—" She waved her hand toward the backseat. "My parents use their relationship as the example of a perfect marriage. Can you believe that? Them." Quinn shook her head. "I don't think I've ever seen them even have an argument."
Rachel frowned. "That doesn't sound like Santana." She wondered aloud, musing on the different woman who sat behind her. "When we were together, we were explosive. We fought about everything."
"That's because I didn't like you!" Santana called.
Sam led them into a back room of the tattoo shop. "Minimum price is $50. Just check out some samples and then I can do a mock-up of what you want."
"I would like one gold star please." Quinn requested.
Santana laughed and shook her head. "Quinn, that's not how you get a tattoo. Let's look through the book and find something you would like."
"What would you know?" Quinn retorted hotly despite grabbing the book of sample artwork in one hand and taking Rachel by the other.
Santana and Charlie shared a knowing look but otherwise remained silent.
Brittany's jaw dropped. "Seriously? You have a tattoo?"
"More than one." Charlie muttered with a grin, poking Santana's side playfully. Santana batted Charlie's hand away with a frown.
If they didn't get to have sex, Charlie better not tease her.
Rachel turned from Quinn's side to stare at Santana incredulously. "You got a tattoo? You told me that you would never disfigure yourself—"
"And you promised me that I was the only one you'd sleep with." Santana retorted, far too drunk to care about trying to be polite. "I changed my mind just like you did."
Quinn stomped her foot. "Can we focus here? I would like one gold star please."
"Your friend is right." Sam cut in. "Either give me an idea of what you want or look through the book for examples."
Quinn glared in reply.
"Or not." Sam held up his hands with a laugh. "Just don't come crying to me when your tattoo looks more like 'Captain America' than 'Starlight Express'."
Santana sighed. She wasn't drunk enough for this. "Quinn." She took her sister-in-law by the hand and sat her down on a chair in the reception area. She pointed to the chair next to Quinn with a roll of her eyes and gestured for Rachel to sit beside her. "You have to pick what type of star you like. Okay? Also, you should pick somewhere—"
"On my neck!" Quinn declared boldly.
"No." Santana shot down the idea without missing a beat. "Tattoos on the neck will hurt and will be very visible. You should avoid on your wrist too, because that hurts a lot."
"No it won't." Rachel disagreed. She didn't have any tattoos of her own, but she was getting tired of Santana acting like she knew everything. "People get tattoos on their wrist all the time."
Quinn looked at Rachel like she had hung the moon.
"Rachel—" Santana fought the urge to slap her ex-girlfriend for simply being obstinate. There were a lot of reasons she wanted to hit Rachel Berry and she would be damned if she actually did it solely because Rachel was being a pain in her ass.
"Rachel's right!" Quinn declared. "I want it on my wrist."
Brittany caught Santana's look of utter disgust and couldn't help but agree. It was clear that Quinn was just doing this in order to impress Rachel. She supposed she should speak up and tell Quinn it wasn't a good idea. But she wasn't sober enough to deal with Quinn's infatuation.
Thankfully Charlie spoke up. "Leave it." She shook her head in disbelief. "Let her find out on her own how bad it hurts.
Brittany whipped toward Charlie. "You too?"
Santana and Charlie just ignored her and continued speaking like she wasn't having the very fabric of everything she had ever believed torn apart. "Charlie." She looked at her wife seriously.
"What?"
"Drunken mistakes happen. Getting it removed will hurt like a bitch and she'll blame you when this is over." She lowered her voice. "You should know—"
"I do know how bad that hurts." Charlie shook her head and Brittany let out a squeal of indignation. "But Quinn's an idiot."
"True." Santana laughed, then paused thoughtfully. After a beat she added with a small mischievous smirk. "I still think you should have kept it."
"Of course you do." Charlie scoffed, her face flushing in discomfort.
"Wait, what was it?" Brittany prodded.
Charlie turned and fingered the glass case that displayed the various options for piercings. "Santana, what do you think about nipple rings? They are hot, right?"
The brunette sighed, eyeing her wife. "No." She voiced her disapproval. She rubbed the her temple. She was definitely going to have a wicked hangover tomorrow.
But curious, she stepped over to the case with Charlie, commenting on the various rings and styles.
After all, what was the worst that could happen?