A/N: All mistakes are mine. I'm only human. Thank you to those who subscribed and reviewed. It is very much appreciated.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or the television shows.

Chapter 2: "It's Not Always Rainbows and Butterflies"

"Can I just say… that you… are an idiot!" And here were go another verbal beat down from no other than Santana Lopez, "What the hell Q? That was a golden opportunity that you missed! I can't believe that you just left."

"Yes, S. I just left. I mean what was I supposed to do?" I sighed. I was in no mood for an argument. I had twenty minutes left on my lunch break and wanted to enjoy the rest of it without Santana breathing down my neck. The weather was perfect. Not too hot or cold. The square wasn't over crowded with lost looking tourists. It was just nice.

"Oh I don't know. You could've said hi? That would have been a capital idea."

She's not letting this go, "So, you mean to tell me that if you were in my position you could have easily just said hi to a person you have not seen in years and weren't exactly buddy-buddy with to begin with?"

And there it was right on cue. I couldn't say that I was shocked I was expecting it. I mean if you're used to Santana like how I'm used to Santana her ability to switch facial expressions in a matter of a microsecond was not all that surprising. So there she was giving me one of her famous WHAT THE FUCK look, one of many but clearly this look tops the many though the others are quite funny as well, because if there's one thing that Santana Lopez was great in besides back hand insults and her sick idea of revenge that would be giving the right facial expression at the right time, "Well if this person happens to be someone that I was crushing on for like years now then yeah I would have bought her a set of gold star stickers, some nasty vegan drink, fed her a line or two, call it a day and mossy my way into her life."

"S, I really do not want to talk about this anymore. And the more you bug me about it the more I regret ever telling you. It was just a crush. A crush," I emphasized the last word so it'll sink in her head that it was no big deal, "I'm over it."

Rolling her eyes she got up from her seat and shrugged, "If you say so. Come on I'll walk you back to work."

Well that was easy I thought. I picked up my mess, thankful that the topic was dropped, "Why are you walking me back anyhow? Don't you have somewhere else to be?"

She stopped dead in her tracks and glared at me, "Who are you my mother? Besides I have to go check on Emily. Make sure you haven't worked my poor cousin to death."

"Well that's thoughtful of you S and if you would promise to behave yourself then I would be more incline to welcome your presence in my shop."

She just laughed and started to walk. I couldn't help but laugh at her complete dismissal but that was just S. I caught up with her and as she linked our arms she gave me a genuine smile, it was a rare moment. As we were walking, I began to think of how comfortable life was for me right now, money wise anyhow. I'm no Martha Stewart or Oprah but for a twenty five year old living in an expensive city to live in I was doing quite well for myself. I owned a small but successful dessert shop in the middle of City Square, a prime location. Between the locals and the tourists there was no short of customers flocking my shop. The shop went from entertaining a modest crowd to a tourist spot after Santana uploaded a youtube clip of herself exercising her right at what she called, "freedom of clothing" while sampling everything on the menu. She explained that it was advertising 101, sex sells. So when the clip of her wearing nothing but an apron and short shorts went viral so did my store. Her expressions while eating my baked goods made my baking skills look really good if you know what I mean.

Life was great I couldn't complain. I had a successful business with great but annoying friends along for the ride. But every morning I would wake up and couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. My heart betrays my brain constantly telling my brain that it knows well what's missing. Just follow my lead it would say but my brain had years of experience ignoring the obvious so again life went on. Even after an almost reunion with a certain brunette couldn't break my brain's training in feigning ignorance.

After insisting on walking me back to the shop Santana insisted on staying, like she always does.

"We're back," Santana announced as we entered the shop. I closed the shop for the day to catch up on inventory. There was a lot to be done. The presence of Santana would hinder any progress that was made today; I was prepared for the slow down.

I walked behind the counter to join Emily while Santana parked herself at the sample station, like she always does.

"Santana," I quickly yelled out to her, "I swear if you finish those samples you will be paying for them."

She waved her left hand in the air while using her right hand to stuff a piece of cupcake in her mouth, "Q, I have never paid for anything I ate in this store."

"Yeah, and you now owe.. let me see," I took a calculator out of the drawer for effect and started punching in numbers, "And you now owe me a billion dollars! Now step away from the sample station and help Em with these carry out boxes."

Defeated she made her way behind the counter joining us, "You are an evil dictator."

"And you're a greedy pastry whore."

Santana placed her right hand on Emily's shoulder, "Emily I don't know how you can take this kind of abuse."

I smirked and occupied Emily's vacant shoulder with a one-arm hug, "She takes it like a champ don't you Em?"

Emily shook her shoulders to free herself from our vise-like grips, "You two annoy the hell out of me sometimes."

Santana laughed and jumped butt first on the counter while Emily and I continued working, "Anyway, Emily guess who Q spotted shopping at the Westfield Centre yesterday?"

As I recalled Santana was supposed to be helping us but I thought it best if I kept my mouth shut so she wouldn't further engage in the conversation she was trying to start. Emily on the other hand had other ideas. The ever efficient and sneaky employee tricked Santana by taking the bait, "Who?" She asked as she gave Santana a handful of carry out containers to fold. Santana too caught up in her story didn't even notice what Emily did. I gave Emily a mental fist bump, "Santana, don't start," I warned.

Santana paused halting our progress. I panicked because I think she's now noticed that she's actually helping us work, "What? It's harmless information," she declared.

Yes! Safe. She was still completely oblivious. I hid my excitement by continuing to work and I let Emily do her thing. The best outcome of hiring Emily to work for me was that she was able to perform miracles such as mind-tricking Santana into being productive or somewhat pleasant; two traits that Santana was not born with. And whenever Santana did notice that she's been had she never went all Hulk on Em because that's her favorite cousin, that's family, but if it was me mind-tricking her there would be hell to pay. I've often wondered why Santana had such a soft spot for Emily. I mean I could understand the family argument but I've seen Santana trip her older brother on a staircase so it couldn't be all because Emily was family. Maybe Santana's congeniality also had a lot to do with the fact that Emily came from such a messed up background. She wasn't a neglected child with horrendous parents, god no, it was just in high school she went through hell after one of her best friends, that she was in love with, was murdered. And if that wasn't enough she was relentlessly tormented by some bitch called A. And also, she was one of the only out gay woman back in her high school. It was some chaotic shit, as Santana would frequently say.

I stared at the pair forgetting what it was that we were talking about. Santana was sure quick with her hands I thought as I watched her demolish the carry out boxes then the topic of the conversation struck me again, "Yeah, right just leave it alone will you S," I said. I got so lost in Emily's murder mystery drama that I almost forgot that Santana was trying to piss me the hell off.

"Come on Q, Emily wouldn't judge. This will stay between us," Santana said innocently.

"Just because you're all angel-like right now it doesn't mean that I would change my mind," I said. "I know you better. If there was anything to share I'm sure that you would blog about it in an instant. Lucky for me, there's nothing to share though."

Emily started stacking the finished boxes still aware that she had to keep Santana talking in order for her to keep working, "Okay, will someone just tell me who it was that Quinn saw."

"Rachel Berry!" Santana spat out, a little too quickly. I swear that this girl has diarrhea of the mouth.

Emily, in slow motion shifted her body to face me, "Wait wait wait… The Rachel Berry?"

As if there was another, "Yeah yeah yeah, that Rachel Berry. Big Broadway star and one of People's Most Beautiful, she's that Rachel Berry."

Emily fiddled with the box in her hand and looked to Santana, "Well yeah, that's all well and good but I meant the Rachel Berry that you've had a crush on since high school and them some right Santana?"

Santana leapt from the counter, "Sing it!" She and Emily stood side by side wearing matching goofy grins. I would have scolded them on the spot except that their stupid goofy grins looked too cute for words. Damn their exotic insanely hot genes! Their beauty made it impossible for anyone to stay mad at them. Thankfully I was saved when one of the oven timers in the kitchen went off saving me from further pestering, "You two are double the pain in my ass," I said as I walked pass them, "A pox on all of your houses!"

Emily and Santana followed me into the kitchen, of course. There was no escaping the double mint twins. Never. I remember one time after happy hour Santana, Emily, and I went for a joy ride on the Bart and when they got a little too drunkenly rambunctious for my taste I tried to leave them on the train and switch to another but when I stood up for the switch Emily clung onto me asking me if I was always so pretty. Santana, the weepy drunk that she is, started to cry right onto my shoulder then all hell broke lose and their drunkenness became a pandemonium. Luckily, no one was arrested. Emily, the sweetheart, was so embarrassed the next day while Santana chucked the memory right out off her head which made me fear for Emily sometimes. Santana was not the best influence. She was the kind of person that parents shielded their kids from. I mean she gets a bad rep but I've known her for years so I know all sides of her but still she has her moments when she makes you question her sanity. Her influence creeps without warning. In the two years that Santana and Emily have been living together Santana must have rubbed off some of her evil on Emily because instead of helping me with what was inside the oven she continued her line of questioning, "That's so cool for you Quinn! What is she doing in San Francisco? Were you able to profess your undying love for her? Are you two going to get married now?"

After I closed the oven door, I immediately saw Santana eyeing the two baking trays in my hands full of muffins. Right there and then I decided to keep the muffins and myself far away from the pastry whore, "Really Emily? You're mind like went from curiosity to lunacy in 2.5 seconds."

"Holy sweet hell!" Santana exclaimed, "Faberry babies! I never thought of it. With your goddess like beauty, business minded brain, and her Berryness you two would have some beautiful-overdramatic-loaded-loud babies. Your babies will be set for world domination. This is too perfect Q."

Are we really having this conversation right now? Because I swear it was just a crush. It WAS. Past tense. But by the way they were talking about it they made it seem like this was some match made in heaven type of romance, "This topic is dead to me," I said unconvincingly.

"Does that mean that Rachel is dead to you?" Santana asked. I bounced my head from side to side in annoyance. I was contemplating whether or not I should waste a good, but very hot muffin, by throwing it at Santana hard but before I could react she sneaked up next to me, "I didn't think so," she said as she stole a muffin from the tray.

Emily walked up behind me, "You know you could just make it easier for yourself and admit that you still have some sort of feelings for her," and with that she too left to join her cousin who was on her way out to the front of the shop while playing hot potato with the muffin. Normally, I would have complained that I was now left all alone to ice all of the muffins but I was thankful that they had the decency to leave me with the thoughts they bombarded me with.

What are they talking about anyway? Feelings? What feelings? Like, I said it was just a crush! Sure, I'm still attracted to her. She's Rachel Berry, big time Broadway and movie star. You'd have to be brain dead not to find her attractive. But these feelings that those two spoke of are non-existent. Because butterflies aren't feelings right?