Prompt ( riversgron ) how's quinn going to feel about seeing santana and brittany back together, and the whole marriage thing! (and also see/read and hypothetical conversation between them)

Pairing: Quinntana (unrequited); Quick (sorta); Brittana

Mood: This is where the angsty angstness of angst is - in case you were looking.

Notes: I went a little vague in the discussion because, really, who wants a story where someone bares her soul just to be told "I didn't know you felt that way. Wow. Sorry - too late."? So. Hopefully this is okay …

Also, not super happy with it but - angst makes me nervous.

It was only fitting that the engagement party was held at Breadstix. Santana hadn't bothered to clue anyone into her plans, making the proposal as much a surprise to everyone else as it had been to Brittany. And that meant there wasn't much time to make arrangements for a more upscale celebration and, anyway, most other venues required reservations at least six weeks in advance.

Plus, Santana had been complaining that they'd been in town for a week and hadn't yet visited their old favorite haunt.

For her part, Quinn spent much of the party touching up flower arrangements, making sure the next course was on its way and - generally - acting much too busy to join in the reveling. When she wasn't flitting around pretending to host the celebration, she stayed at Puck's side. His arm was heavy and solid around her shoulder - it anchored her every time she thought she might make a break for it.

A tinny ringing echoed across the small banquet room - really just the back section of the restaurant closed off from other guests by a long rope. When their friends didn't quiet down immediately, Rachel made a sharp shushing noise, which in turn cued Kurt to do the same and that caused a chain reaction that ended with the room sounding like a leaky steam valve.

"Quiet, quiet," Santana called out to her friends while Brittany clutched her arm and beamed beside her. "Thank you for this amazing night. We really didn't expect any of this - "

"I especially didn't because I didn't even know I was getting married until yesterday," Brittany interrupted.

"Now that we're on the same page," Santana said with a sweet smile, "we've starting talking about dates and venues and all of the other things that have yet to be planned. But there's one part that doesn't require an extended discussion and that's the one about who we want by our sides on our special day."

"Once we get confirmation from our Best Man - " Santana paused to look to Puck. "And our Maid of Honor - "

Santana's brows knitted slightly, making the faintest of creases above her nose when she made eye contact with her best friend and saw the other woman blinking owlishly back at her.

"Um," Santana cleared her throat and tried not to read into Quinn's apparent discomfort. "We'll have a couple of things crossed off our to do list."

Puck raised his champagne glass as a reply and hoped Quinn would simply mimic the motion - anything to keep her from actually having to speak. When she hesitantly lifted her glass and dipped her head, there were applause and someone, Puck wasn't sure who, shouted something about the traditional Best Man/Maid of Honor hook-up.

He kept his arm tightly around her until all eyes were off of them. "I didn't know what else to do," he confessed in a whisper. "Everyone was watching and I didn't want - "

"Excuse me," Quinn said quickly, shrugging out of his hold and making a beeline for the restrooms. She hadn't lifted her head long enough to catch Santana's curious stare.

The bathroom was quiet and gave Quinn space to gather the energy she'd need to get through the rest of the party. She tried to keep her focus on the present. Even thinking for a moment about throwing a bridal shower for her best friends or standing next to them at the wedding started a dull pounding behind her eyes. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"So, what was that?" Santana asked, before the bathroom door had a chance to close all the way.

Quinn sighed but didn't allow herself to look up. "Too much champagne," she offered weakly.

"Maybe. Except you know what I just realized? You still haven't congratulated us." Santana pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at her best friend. "In fact, you haven't said anything to me and it's kind of my party out there."

"What do you want me to say, Santana?" Quinn asked tiredly.

Santana stepped back, as though she'd been slapped.

"I dunno, Q." She squared her shoulders and straightened her back. "How about saying you're happy for us - for me? You couldn't find a way to stand up and say that you support me and that you're happy that I'm happy? Or, I don't know, maybe acknowledge that you'd be honored to be at my side on the biggest day of my life? You couldn't actually say that you want to be the Maid of Honor? "

Shifting uncomfortably against the sink, Quinn chewed the corner of her lip nervously and blinked a few times, avoiding meeting her friend's eyes.

Santana crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head as she studied her friend. After a beat, she inhaled sharply.

"You don't want to be the Maid of Honor."

When Quinn didn't reply, she repeated herself , her voice cracking when she asked, "You don't wanna be my Maid of Honor?"

"San-"

"What is it with you and weddings?" she asked, interrupting Quinn. "You were completely against Rachel's and Finn's and now you don't want to be part of mine? Next thing you know you're gonna tell me you're not even gonna be there!"

Quinn inhaled deeply, steeling herself, and said, "I'm not, Santana." She looked up with sad eyes. "I can't."

"Like hell you can't." Santana glared at the other woman. "You don't want to. And I wanna know why."

Quinn softly shook her head, blinking as she looked away. She'd already done enough damage. What good would an explanation do? The truth would simply take Santana's hurt and anger and add a new level of guilt.

Not that Santana had anything to feel guilty about. Quinn had gone out of her way to mask the way she felt for her best friend. At first it was simply because Quinn wasn't sure what she was feeling. Bu then, by the time she was ready to name her feelings - a huge task that required some coaching from a very unlikely source, Puck - Santana had reconciled with Brittany.

And even if Quinn thought she could compete with Brittany for Santana's affections, she never would have tried. She loved both of her friends too much for that.

"Aren't you happy for me, Q?" Santana's voice cracked again, allowing the hurt to seep out past her anger.

Quinn stared at the tiled floor. "I'm happy that you're happy," she answered after a long silence. Pushing herself off the sink and, with her hand on the door handle, she said, "Maybe someday I'll be able to make that enough."

"If you leave right now, Quinn," Santana warned, her voice dangerously low, "when you come back, you won't be able to fix this. It'll be too late."

Quinn opened the door and over her shoulder she sadly admitted, "I was already too late."