A/N: Thanks for the support, guys :)
Quinntana stole the show for me in this ep. I've always thought that they're incredibly hot. And that made this chapter all the more fun to write :)
I still ship Brittana, but this chapter obviously has a bit of hotel room Quinntana. No sexy times, of course. I'm not that mean. Oh, and a sprinkling of the Unholy Trinity.
Much love to heyabrittanaxo (as always) for my awesome cover art :)
Enjoy!
Onward and up!
-H
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee :(
CHAPTER 2: Underneath Your Clothes
The moment I started waking up, I wanted to go back to sleep. My head immediately started pounding and I buried my head in the amazingly comfortable pillow beneath me. The realisation that my pillow, although super comfy, wasn't anywhere near as soft and fluffy as the one I was currently resting on, made me squint one eye open to see a head of blonde hair in front of me.
And then I remembered. And smiled.
It definitely hadn't been on my to do list when I came back to Lima. Hell, I don't Quinn has ever been on my to do list. But…I gotta give props to my nemesis. She sure as hell gave as good as she got.
I let my eye fall closed and wriggled a little closer. My inner voice let out a giggle. I was naked, in a bed, with Quinn Fabray, in a hotel room, and snuggling.
I felt Quinn shuffle around, but kept my eyes closed. It wasn't that I was afraid of looking at her. We'd lost any shyness around each other around two hours into celebrating the success of our fake IDs. Oh, and probably around the same time when the two-time thing became a four-time thing. Or was it five?
"You suck at pretending to be asleep."
I smiled and opened my eyes. "You'd think I wouldn't be up for at least another three hours after what you did to me."
Quinn rolled her eyes with that smug look she owned so well and turned onto her back. My arm was resting under the covers across her naked stomach.
"Can't say I pegged you for a snuggler, Santana," she quipped.
I shrugged. Quinn and I were passed that point of bullshitting each other. We really were two ends of the same bitch-goddess spectrum. "You didn't seem to mind my hands all over you last night."
Quinn chuckled. "Yes, well. Your hands are definitely…skilled."
"I know." Hey, I only speak the truth. "And who knew the president of the Celibacy Club would have such…dexterity?"
"Who knew?" Quinn mused quietly.
"Don't go getting all weird on me now, Fabray," I said, pulling away slightly. "No U-Haul, no plaid conventions, no waiting for hours in line to see Melissa Etheridge. This was a one-time thing...which admittedly turned into a lot-more-times-thing. But I get it."
"It was definitely a night to remember."
"Can't help my skills. I know how to rock the ladies."
Quinn laughed, louder this time. "Nice to see your ego hasn't taken a knock."
I smirked. "Why? You've proven that I can get even the straightest of straight girls to turn Fabgay for a night."
"God, your arrogance is infallible."
"And yet you've always known this about me."
Quinn turned to look at me and I raised an eyebrow in challenge. She smiled. "That slap is still very much on the table."
"Ooh, Quinnie, don't tease me so much."
We burst into giggles and – for the life of me, don't ask me how – it escalated into a full on naked tickle fight. But there wasn't any need to progress into the standard activity reserved for our level of nudity. I mean, sure, the sex had been pretty awesome – I am me, after all – but we both knew going into this that it wasn't going any further than the hotel room. Our friendship, albeit a little fucked up, had become very important to me. And Quinn, too.
Neither of us heard the knocking on the door until it had turned into banging.
Our heads shot up and we looked at each other, barely containing the giggles.
"You expecting someone?" I asked, grabbing one of the gazillion sheets from the bed that we'd discarded during our romps and wrapping it around myself.
Quinn pulled the comforter over her own body and leaned against the headboard, listing her shoulder in a shrug. She grabbed another bottle of water and chugged it down.
I walked over to the door, unlocked it and opened it. My eyes went a little wide at the person standing in the hallway.
"H-hey."
Brittany's blue eyes narrowed in confusion and her eyes skimmed briefly over my very obvious disguise.
"Uh, sorry, I thought this was Quinn's room."
"It is." I wasn't entirely sure how my voice came out so steady. After watching her with Trouty Mouth the whole damn night, my lonely levels had kicked up a notch. A big notch. I didn't feel guilty, though. I subtly squared my shoulders. I shouldn't feel guilty, anyway. I'm an adult. I'm also a young, single, woman. A hot lesbian with sex appeal to burn.
"Who is it?" Quinn called from the bed.
"Britt," I called back, meeting her eyes again. "Did you need something from Quinn?"
"Uh, we were going to have coffee this morning," Brittany murmured, looking from me to the room behind me. She couldn't see Quinn in the bed.
Fuck it.
I stepped back as an invitation for her to come in and headed back to the bed. I lay next to Quinn and reached over her to grab a bottle of water. When I looked back to meet Brittany's eyes, I actually did feel a little guilty.
You shouldn't.
I knew that. It didn't stop me from hating myself for being the reason that Brittany had a sad look on her face as she quickly read the situation.
Honestly, even a blind person would've been able to see that the bed that Quinn and I, visibly naked under our covers, had spent a lot of time rumpling the sheets.
"Hey, Britt. I kinda lost track of time. Sorry," Quinn apologised with her charming smile. "Let me hop in the shower and we can go."
Brittany just nodded.
"Santana, swap with me," she demanded.
I rolled my eyes, ducked under the big comforter and handed the sheet I'd been using to Quinn. She wrapped it around herself and slipped gracefully out of bed and headed to the bathroom.
"I'll be ten minutes!" she called, grabbing her bag and shutting the door behind her.
Great. Just me and Brittany in possibly one of the awkward situations we'd ever been in.
"You can sit," I eventually offered, gesturing the bed.
Brittany's eyes shot up to meet mine. I held her gaze steadily. I refused to feel guilty about doing what she told me to do. Even though I missed her like crazy, she'd made her choice. And she hadn't chosen me. Again.
But this wasn't two years ago. I was a different person. And I wasn't about to run back into the closet just because the love of my life was happier with someone that wasn't me.
She still didn't sit.
"So…"
"So…" I mimicked, raising my eyebrows. "Did you have a good night?"
She shrugged and swallowed visibly. "Did you?"
"Yup."
It probably came out a lot more callous than I'd intended based on the flash of hurt that flickered in her blue eyes.
"I mean," I amended, licking my lips, "it was fun, you know? We had fun."
"That's good." Her voice was quiet.
And cue the awkward silence.
"When are you going back to New York?" she eventually asked.
"Sunday afternoon," I replied. My mother had demanded I stay the whole weekend.
"Oh, Rachel said she's leaving tonight."
"Yeah, she can't be away from her hound dog for too long," I replied, rolling my eyes. Brody really grated on me – and not even in the remotely wankiest of ways.
"You don't like him?" She was curious.
I shrugged. "I just get this vibe that he's…I dunno. I half expect to find him on a street corner, parading his body off like some hooker. I don't trust him."
Brittany giggled and I lifted my eyes.
"Trust Rachel to start dating someone that acts like a hooker after Finn." She pulled a face.
I grinned. "Can't believe that she slept with him last night," I huffed. Just before Quinn and I had ducked, I'd seen them acting all lovey-dovey and heading up to Finn's room. I had a feeling that I'd be fending calls from Lumps the Clown in the coming weeks.
Rachel had changed since high school. And in a good way. She was embracing her star quality, but not in the annoying, dwarf-like tendency she did in Glee. She had grown up. She was a woman. And she wasn't afraid to take risks and make mistakes. I liked it. I felt like we could really be friends without me wanting to staple her gaping trap shut every ten minutes.
"So what are your plans this weekend?" Brittany asked.
"As soon as you two leave, my ass and I are hiding under these covers until this afternoon at least. Quinn's going back tonight so I'm taking her to the airport. Then my parents' place until I go back to New York, I guess. Oh, I think Mercedes wanted to do something. She may have spoken to me last night, but fuck if I can remember." I chuckled, remembering my lingering hangover, which actually wasn't nearly as bad as I'd expected after I woke up.
"Do you think maybe we could go for ice cream or something?"
"Britt, it's February. There's still snow. Ice cream seems a little out of season, don't you think?"
She looked dejected which, of course, made me backtrack my statement immediately. "But yeah, we can go get ice cream or whatever. What about tomorrow?"
"Um, Sam and I kinda have plans all day," she replied. "He won't tell me what, though. Maybe Sunday before you leave?"
I sighed. "Yeah, sure. Just text me a place and time."
It was stupid for me to still get a pang in my chest every time Sam was put ahead of me. That's what people in relationships did. Even though Britt and I may be best friends (read: torture), her boyfriend would always come first. And I knew that was how it should be. That's why I'd broken up with her in the first place. It wasn't fair to keep pushing her aside to make room for college, cheerleading, friends, parties, school…
She deserved more.
And now Sam could give it to her.
I just wished I had the courage to tell her that I could give her the world if she'd let me.
But sometimes when she looked at me, like right now, I think she knew that.
So as it turned out, I'd actually made plans with Mercedes, Mike and Kurt at the reception. I didn't even remember speaking to Kurt. He had been too busy watching Blaine run around after him like a lost puppy. It was pathetic, really. I had to remember to congratulate him.
We met at Breadstix – how original; they should be really glad that my one weakness in life is those delicious sticks of dough – and it was actually quite pleasant. Until Mike brought up my friendly behaviour with a certain blonde.
"So, what's happening with you and Quinn?" he asked with a smirk.
"Watch yourself, Boy Chang," I said, holding up a breadstick threateningly. "Don't ask a question you're not ready to hear the answer to."
"Oh, well this now has me completely intrigued," Kurt said with that nauseatingly eager look that he always gets when a good gossiping's afoot.
I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Quinn and I slept together." I said it simply. There wasn't really any point beating around the bush. Plus, Fabgay and I had talked it over and she was cool with us spilling the deets about our night of coital bliss.
"I'm sorry, come again?" Mercedes asked, her mouth open.
I giggled. "Wanky," and promptly stuck the rest of my breadstick in her mouth. "But for the record, we both did. Several times."
"I think we're all aware of your desire for bodily contact, Santana," Kurt said dryly, handing Mercedes a napkin, "but with Quinn? Really?"
"Hey, don't knock it till you've tried it," I said honestly. "She's a total firecracker in the sack. There was one time when she-"
All three immediately pleaded with me to stop and I smirked. "I warned you."
"One we should have heeded," Kurt conceded. "We'll never learn will we? It's like you speak and that voice just hypnotises everyone and we're powerless to tell you when to stop."
"Unless I'm about to tell you about how far Quinn's fingers-"
"Ah! Lalalala!" Mercedes squealed, putting her fingers in her ears.
I threw my head back and laughed. It really was too easy with this lot. Back in New York, Kurt wasn't afraid to add some bark to his bite, which was refreshing in a loft with three divas plus a horn dog. The horn dog not being me.
"Ok, my turn," I said, eyeing my second favourite gay (after Ellen, of course – Ha! After Ellen…). "What's the dealio with you and Bowtie Barbie?"
"Oh, girl, I caught these two going at it in the back of a car before the wedding."
"Porcelain, you skank you!" I said, holding up a fist. "I approve."
Kurt chuckled and touched his fist to mine. Mercedes gave me a sceptical look. "I'm wondering if you being in New York with Rachel and Kurt is a good thing."
Touchy subject.
"Just because you're all LA'd up and singing for your supper doesn't mean that it was that easy for the rest of us," I snapped.
Mercedes smiled and shook her head. "I meant for Kurt and Rachel. You're a terrible influence on them."
I smiled proudly, my frustrations forgotten. "I know."
"I will say that having Santana staying with us has definitely made our home life vastly more interesting. Spontaneous sing-offs are a nightly occurrence and did you know that this girl can cook? Hot tamale."
"I'm going to infer that you're talking about me and not my…hot tamales."
"Wait, which hot tamales?" Mike asked, a twinkle in his eye.
"Well, look what the West Coast has done to our shy little dancer!" I teased, ruffling his now super-short hair. "Did you just make a joke about my boobs?"
"No," he deadpanned.
I grinned.
"But seriously, Cheerio. What are you doing in New York?" Mercedes asked.
I rolled my eyes. Back to the serious shit.
"I'm not setting foot in another school as a student if I can help it. Kentucky did a whopping two things for me," I said, holding up two fingers. "Uno, make me realise that I am not meant to be a college student. Dos, make me realise that distance doesn't really matter."
I sat back, realising what I'd just said. It was fine when it was Hummelberry or Quinn, but I wasn't in the habit of breaking my Snixx bubble for just anyone.
This was the part I hated; where they all looked at me like I was a fragile bird ready to break. I directed my glare at Kurt because he'd found out after two days that sending me that look was detrimental to his health. And his precious wardrobe.
Kurt cleared his throat. "I think we need some cheesecake."
"We haven't even ordered our food," Mike argued.
"Cheesecake!" I said loudly, enough to bring our waitress over. She smiled apologetically at me.
That's right, bitches. I owns this place.
"You're not here for weeks, but they still remember you," Kurt said in amazement.
I shrugged. They really shouldn't be surprised that I was the most notorious person at Breadstix. They should just change the name to Breadsnixx. It would make everything just simpler. I munched on a breadstick and caught the waitress' eye again. She gave me a shy smile and I arched an eyebrow.
Ok…I could play around with this.
"Lady, move. I gotta pee."
Kurt huffed, most likely at my 'crass' language – a word he was fond of using – but slid out of the booth anyway. I sent the waitress a wink as I walked past. She blushed and I smiled. Sometimes it was just so awesome being me.
I hummed as I washed my hands and was just drying them when the door to the bathroom burst open.
"Santana?"
I smiled genuinely. "Delly! How you doing, squirt?"
Delilah Pierce (one guess who named her) wrapped her arms around my waist and squeezed tightly.
"Whoa, easy on the oxygen stealing there, kiddo." I knew Delly's eleventh birthday was approaching the coming weeks. Shit, time flies.
"How are you, Santana?"
I looked up and smiled nervously at Jillian, Brittany's mom. Practically my second mom. Well, not anymore.
"I'm good. I mean, I've been good," I fumbled. What the hell? "You?"
"I'm doing well. We miss you, though."
I looked down at Delly still clinging to me with a smile so reminiscent of her big sister that the familiar pang echoed in my heart. As any mother could (biologically or not), Jillian picked up on it and gently tugged Delly away, guiding her into one of the stalls and pulling it closed. She folded her arms across her chest.
"How are you?" she asked again.
I sucked my lips in. "Been better. But I've made the choices in my life so now I have to deal with them."
It was probably the most profound thing I'd said about the general fuck up that my year had been.
"I'm always here for you, Santana."
I nodded and looked down. "I know. It's hard." I knew she was giving me that pity face. "Uh, I should head back out. It was really great seeing you again, Jill. Tell Delly I say bye."
I walked out before anything more could be said. The waitress from our table was walking past as I entered the restaurant area again. She looked surprised when I grabbed her arm, but relaxed a little when she saw it was me.
"Get me a shot of tequila, anything. I'll show you my ID if-"
Chill, Santana, I know you're not legal." My eyes probably bugged. She glanced around. "Wait here."
I hid behind a pillar, counting the seconds until Waitress Wonder returned with what I hoped would be my liquid courage. She did, with three shots on a tray. She must have gone to McKinley to know how I liked my party favours.
I grabbed the first shot and threw it back, wincing as the burn ran down my throat. "When did you graduate?"
"Two years ago," she replied, watching me down the second and third shot in quick succession.
"Why are you still here?"
She shrugged. "Circumstances."
I nodded in understanding. I knew all about those damn circumstances. "What's your name?"
She just smiled and walked away, three empty glasses on the tray.
Well. Colour me curious.
Thankfully, the rest of dinner passed by without a hitch, although I was faintly aware that the Pierce clan were somewhere in the small restaurant and I couldn't help but wonder if Brittany was with them or, considering it was date night, if she'd be with Trouty.
I spent Saturday chilling with Mami. Papi made sure that he was home in the afternoon so that we got to really sit down and talk.
"Santana, I told you that you need to have a plan," Mami said, not unkindly. "I don't regret giving you that money for one second, but I won't watch you flit it away just being in New York and floating."
I nodded. She was right. "I'm looking for jobs. Just something to keep me busy until I can start performing. I've been looking at some clubs that do open mics, but so many are for original artists only."
Papi took my hand. "Mija, you are the most original of them all."
"Gracias, but I haven't even tried songwriting since the end of junior year. I mean, yeah, I've got a few lyrics written down here and there, but-"
"That's all you need, Santana! A start! Somewhere to put your foot down and say, 'Right. I'm starting my journey right here, right now'."
I had to smile at Mami's way of thinking. It was always refreshing. I looked from one parent to the other. "Do you believe that I can do this?"
"Yes," they both said immediately. They didn't lie to me. They never had, really. Except for the standard 'Abuela really wants to come to Christmas, but she's not feeling well.'
"Even if I flop? Even if people laugh me out of the city and I come home with my tail between my legs?"
Mami stood up. "Who is this Santana? This is not the daughter I raised. My daughter is strong, proud and confident of who she is and what she can do. When you joined glee club, I saw a light in you that I'd never seen before. You have a passion for performing, mija. And the world is just dying to share that passion with you."
I smiled gratefully and stood up too so that I could hug her. "Thank you. I wouldn't even be in New York if it weren't for you."
"Oh, sweetie, you would've found your way there eventually."
I wasn't quite sure how to feel about my impending meeting with Brittany. I changed my outfit about four times, effectively going through all the outfits I'd brought with me excluding the red dress from the wedding.
My phone buzzed.
Hi :) Don't hate me, ok? Sam surprised me with a romantic getaway and we stayed over last night. We're only going to drive back later this afternoon. I'm really sorry that I'm going to miss our ice cream date :( Have a safe flight, ok? Brit xxx
I packed my bags in a hurry. I suddenly felt like I needed to get out of Lima. Right then.
I knew she wasn't mine. She hadn't been for a while, apparently. Maybe for even longer than I allowed myself to dream?
The thought made my heart constrict. I tried desperately to bring back the carefree attitude of the wedding reception and following day with Quinn.
I should have realised that once Brittany entered my mind, it would be difficult to get rid of her with no one to distract me. Thursday, I'd had Quinn and the reception. Friday had been Kurt, Mercedes and Mike and last night had been my parents. Now? Now I had no one. Just me. By myself.
I looked at my phone, exiting out of the message and checking the time. Three hours until I needed to be at the airport. I pulled out my laptop and sat on my bed. I opened up my Skype and clicked on the first name on my list. It took a while for her to connect and I breathed a quiet sigh of relief when her face filled my screen.
"Well, that didn't take long."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"You lasted all of thirty-six hours before you realised how much you missed this beautiful face."
I rolled my eyes and was grateful for the genuine smile that crossed my face.
"Quinn Fabray, I think you're my guardian angel."
"Sweetie, we both know I'm no angel."
I snorted. "Well, that's definitely true. I'm sure if you feel like revisiting the one-time-that-became-five-times thing, we could introduce a little roleplay into the bedroom. You as an angel, me as a devil. I'll even bring a trident." I wiggled by eyebrows suggestively and she laughed.
"I think I'm pretty good with our Night To Remember. Why aren't you out with Brittany? Didn't you guys have plans?"
My face fell a little and she picked up on it straight away. Being the other half of me that she was (Britt's a different half of me…if that even makes sense), she abruptly changed topics.
"Did I tell you about the troll I had to sit next to on the way home?" she said dramatically. "As if we didn't have enough overkill of gingers at the wedding, this carrot top would just not take a hint. I eventually bribed the thirteen-year-old across the aisle to pretend to be my boyfriend."
I giggled. Nice job, Q. "Do I need to sit this boy down and ask his intentions?"
"Suffice to say, his mother wasn't too pleased when she discovered that he was going to marry the beautiful girl three seats away. He was adamant that he didn't want to leave me."
"Jesus, Quinn. Can't take you anywhere without causing a riot."
Quinn sent her a wink and they looked at each other for a few moments.
"Just tell me," she said softly.
I sighed and looked up at my ceiling. "Sam took her on a romantic getaway for the weekend. They stayed o-over and are only driving back later."
"Oh, San, I'm sorry," Quinn said sympathetically. "If it's any consolation, she was trying so hard not to be jealous at coffee the other day."
"It's not," I mumbled. "It doesn't even matter. She chose him. She doesn't get to be jealous."
Quinn didn't say anything for a while. When she finally did, I knew why Quinn Fabray was one of my closest friends. "So I was thinking of introducing Emily to the wonders of the New York nightlife. You think Rosario might be up for a visitor next weekend?"
I smiled. "I think she definitely would."
Kurt unlocked the door to the loft and we walked inside. I yawned and headed for my room, ready to pass out on my bed. Flying always did that to me, even though I could never sleep on the planes.
"Rachel, we're home!" Kurt called.
No answer. We looked at each other and I shrugged. I pulled my heels off and padded into the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out a bowl of grapes. I plonked on the couch next to Kurt and he managed to find some old movie that we could easily fall asleep to.
Which we obviously did, because I suddenly woke up to the sound of someone retching. It was possibly one of the worst sounds in the world and always made me wanna hurl myself. Kurt was still on the couch so I stood up and headed to the bathroom.
"Rach?" I called softly.
"I'm fine!" she squeaked through the door. "Just ate something funny at the restaurant we went to tonight."
"Ok," I said, shrugging. "Night."
A/N: Whatcha think? :)
This is an interpretation and obviously is based on the show as much as possible. I have taken liberties with certain things like Brittany's mom and sister and the mysterious waitress (dunno where she came from).
I firmly believe that Quinntana was a one-time thing (in the show). I may insinuate it in later chapters, but unless they develop into something in the show (really doubt it), nothing more will happen between them other than platonic friendship.
If I'm being honest, I did have a brief thought where Quinn was in New York (and when she is, she stays with Santana, in her bed – as friends) and Britt shows up for a surprise visit and Kurt or Rachel opens the door and she sees them in bed together…again. And she may go a little crazy.
Hahaha. Maybe I'm going crazy(ier).
Would love to hear your thoughts! Promise I'm going to update Role Reversal: Sophomores next :D
First – some shut eye!
Onwards and up!
-H
