The interest in this story has been incredible - thank you all so much for the faves/follows and reviews. I'm definitely planning a full fic with this now and have planned out at least four more chapters at this stage. Excited to hear your thoughts on this one.
LOSING COUNT– PART III
The Port Authority Bus Terminal was bustling with commuters in the early hours of Friday evening. Leaning against a glass dividing wall, at Gate #71 in the North Terminal, Santana brought her knees up to her chin and felt her knuckles press uncomfortably against the paved flooring. She had decided that sitting on her hands was the only way to stop herself from fidgeting.
It had been four weeks since the wedding that wasn't and, this meant, four weeks since she had seen Quinn. Santana had spent many moments sitting on her hands in those four weeks. The coarse fabric of Kurt's second-hand couch had rubbed against the tanned skin of her fingers, on numerous occasions, as she sat staring at her phone, in front of her, on the coffee table.
In that first week it had seemed to be a battle of wills, each girl testing the other to see who would text first; who could hold out longer. A message would eventually come from Quinn, by late afternoon, and Santana's initial reply was only ever seconds behind.
They both knew that there was something bigger going on, something which remained unnamed and left them in a limbo between friendship and…something else entirely. Santana couldn't put a name to what she felt because the words didn't seem to exist in her vocabulary. She wondered, night after night, if Quinn had a word for it. Quinn had always been better with words than she had.
Santana tried to maintain her usual stubborn and brash exterior throughout their time apart. She quickly noticed, however, that this had never before required so much effort. On the inside she felt alive in a way she hadn't in so long and yet lonelier than she'd been her entire life.
Being away from home again, and without the safety and routine of school and college, Santana felt vulnerable. Within the confines of the loft she was certainly able to exercise her, well-practised, superiority complex in front of Rachel and Kurt on occasion. Outside there, however, she felt as though every opportunity which could be hers was still just out of arms reach.
After the first week Quinn stopped texting first and if Santana didn't contact her by early evening she only gave in as far as sending a picture message. No text. The picture messages that Santana received on these days were always photographs. Photographs of a number. Sometimes the number would be on a mailbox, sometimes a street sign. Once, the number appeared on a badge worn by a child who sat next to Quinn on a bus. The number was always five.
On the days Quinn had been the first to break, Santana couldn't help but feel smug as though she had some degree of control over their ever changing relationship. Other days, when no text came, she fought conflicting emotions, unsure whether to give in and contact her or to spend the remaining hours wallowing in disappointment.
By the third week the game was getting harder to play. They still had not spoken since the wedding and that, in itself, was exacerbating the weirdness of their situation.
When no text had come on Wednesday, after no text had come on Tuesday, Santana stood staring out the window of the Bushwick loft she now called home. With an embarrassingly shaky hand she swiped her thumb across the 'unlock' bar of her phone and keyed in her four digit passcode.
Pressing the green and white handset icon, she selected Quinn's number and slowly brought the device to her ear, drawing in a deep breath. Closing her eyes as she exhaled slowly, she counted the dial tones which rattled through her once, twice, three ti…
"Hi!" Quinn answered the phone, surprise evident in her tone.
"Hi yourself." Santana said brightly, hoping her voice sounded every bit as calm and cool as she was willing it to be. "How are you?"
"Good. I'm really good Santana. You?"
Immediately lost in the melodic, husky voice on the other end of the line, Santana hesitated before answering.
"…umm…yeah good, I mean, fine, yeah I'm really good. Umm…what have you been up to?" Santana held the phone away from her head as she covered her mouth with her other hand and let out a shaky breath. What am I doing? It's just Quinn.
"It's nice to hear your voice San." Quinn stated this quite plainly and Santana's eyes closed as she felt her heart begin to thud in her chest. Was that just a friendly thing to say or was it…something else?
"Umm…how is that an answer to my question." Her tone was aggressive, but her signature scowl was replaced with a cringe as soon as the words left her mouth.
"Santana, you know what I've been up to. We've texted almost every day. If we have to spend ten minutes talking about the weather until you're comfortable on the phone with me, then fine, but I want to actually talk to you. It's nice to hear your voice. I've missed talking to you these past couple of weeks."
3 weeks actually. Santana thought.
"Three and a half if we're being specific." Quinn murmered, reading her mind and Santana found herself moving backwards until her legs hit the seat of the small armchair near the window. Sinking into it, she sighed audibly, no longer able to hide how overwhelmed she was feeling.
"Santana?" Quinn's voice was gentle and she felt her own face relax into a small grin.
"Yeah, I'm here Q. It's nice to hear your voice too. I've missed you." Santana slipped her free hand underneath her to stop herself from toying with the frayed seam on the edge of the armchair. "I haven't heard from you for a couple of days. What have you been up to?"
"What have you been up to? That's the more important question." Quinn countered and Santana wasn't sure how to interpret the woman's tone this time. When she asked her what she meant her voice was uncharacteristically quiet.
"Your date. You told me you were going out with that Sara chick you hit it off with at Callbacks, after you dedicated a song to her." Santana smirked at the obvious jealousy behind Quinn's words and purposely drew out her response.
"Well…we went out to a movie on Tuesday night and then…on Wednesday morning I …I bought her breakfast." Had the two been in the same room, Quinn would have been able to tell that Santana was messing with her, but on the other end of the line Quinn's mood suddenly changed.
"You fucking slept with her? Geez Santana, really? I mean, you barely know her. You've met her twice and –"
Santana chuckled lightly, muffling the sound with her hand.
"What are you laughing at?" Santana could almost see the affronted look through the phone.
"You. Q, I'm laughing at you. Now let's get this straight," she heard Quinn scoff at her choice of words, "…I've met her several times through Kurt and Rachel. I only sang 'High Heeled Sneakers' to her because she was wearing some, which I teased her about, and she had never heard the song. She'd also never heard of Janis Joplin, a detail I can't tolerate in any human, even a hot one." She added this for effect, having already agreed that Sara was cute when Quinn had asked her days before.
"Her friend's Dad was sick so she had an extra movie ticket for Tuesday night because said friend was flying home to LA. And, just for the record, I didn't sleep with her. The Janis Joplin clause would have come into effect even if I'd wanted to…which I don't. The four of us met for breakfast before their classes started. She had no cash and they wouldn't take cards so I told her I'd pay. No big deal." Santana folded her arm across her chest and crossed her legs, a satisfied grin spreading across her face.
"Fine. Whatever. You can do what you like anyway." Quinn sounded sheepish and Santana found herself wishing that they were in the same room together, thinking she could use several different methods to change the woman's mood in that moment.
She considered calling Quinn out on her jealousy, but thought better of it and felt her heart begin to race as she decided to a slightly different approach.
"Quinn, why don't you come out here this weekend? We can just hang out. We could all go to Callbacks together and you and I can do a song, that's if Rachel could resist the urge to join us. It'll be like Glee Club all over again." The drumming in her chest increased as she waited for a response from the woman.
"That would be kind of fun I guess."
Santana heard a smile in Quinn's voice and she looked up the bus timetable on her laptop while Quinn checked her school schedule for Friday.
Santana pressed the home key on her phone again to display the time. Only five minutes had passed since she had last checked and she tapped the device against her thigh as her head turned on a swivel, one way and then the other, looking for any sign of Quinn.
Humming Ani DiFranco's The Arrival's Gate to herself, she became distracted by an elderly couple who were trying to organise their bags and kept arguing about who would carry what. Craning her neck she looked past them, seeing blonde hair, but felt herself deflate slightly when the woman emerging from the crowd looked nothing like Quinn.
"Looking for someone Rosario?" The unmistakable voice hit her all of a sudden and she turned her head quickly to see Quinn crouched on the floor beside her.
"Hi!" She couldn't mask the jubilation in her voice.
"Hi yourself." Quinn spoke as she stood up and, smiling, offered a hand to Santana.
Hesitating, she reached up tentatively and allowed Quinn to grip onto her, pulling her up from the floor. The moment their hands touched Santana felt a, now familiar, flush creep across her skin. Bowing her head to hide this, she leant over to pick up her bag and stood up pulling anxiously at the hem of her white v neck t-shirt.
The two stood face to face for a long moment before Quinn leant over to pull her in for a quick hug. Santana wrapped her arms around Quinn's middle and squeezed her lightly, trying to ignore the thudding in her chest and the urge to take a half step in to pull their bodies closer together. As she pulled away, reluctantly, she felt Quinn's lips lightly graze her warm cheek and felt her skin burn, unable to look the woman in the eye.
"It's nice to see you San. I'm glad you suggested this." Santana looked up to see Quinn's cheeks were also tinged pink, but that unmistakable and new-found confidence was still present behind those beautiful green eyes.
"Me too." Santana let her gaze rest on Quinn's lips briefly before she let their eyes meet. "Come on, let's go meet the others." Santana reached over and took Quinn's overnight bag from her hands as Quinn set down her small, matching suitcase and extended the handle, allowing her to wheel it along behind them.
The two met up with Kurt and Rachel at an Italian restaurant four blocks down from NYADA. Both had had a full day of classes and Rachel's mood, in particular, was uncharacteristically flat.
The restaurant was a far cry from Breadstix and was, essentially, McDonalds for pasta, yet it was also roughly four times more expensive.
Sitting beside Kurt and opposite Quinn, Santana found herself the subject of many a lingering glance throughout dinner. It was both unnerving and exciting and she hoped that she had been the subject of Quinn's thoughts, over the past month, to the extent her friend had been the subject of hers.
"So Quinn, are you still seeing the unhappily married Professor then?" Kurt took a long sip of his drink as he challenged her on the topic.
Santana looked at Kurt, accusingly, before glancing at Quinn, trying to gauge her response even before she spoke.
"Well Kurt, I don't actually recall mentioning him to you," she raised her eyebrows in Santana's direction and Santana simply shrugged as Quinn continued, "…but the answer is no. I ended it."
Santana's eyes widened now. They hadn't discussed it and Santana had frankly been too afraid to broach the topic, not wanting to hear about it if it was still going on.
"Oh really? When did this all happen then?" Rachel finally seemed to find an ounce of her usual nosey personality and piped up.
"Oh," Quinn looked around the room vaguely, "…a few weeks ago." She shrugged and returned her gaze to the dinner which sat, largely untouched, in front of her.
Santana took a deep breath and let it out slowly, delicately, not wanting anyone to hear her and realise she was using it as a calming mechanism.
"A few weeks ago, eh?" Santana tried to mask the hint of curiosity, mixed with flirtatiousness, which she felt creeping into her voice. "You didn't mention that in any of your texts. When exactly did you do this?"
Quinn's eyes slowly swept upwards to meet hers and Santana felt her breath hitch at the lust in the other woman's eyes. "My first day back after the wedding." Quinn bit her lower lip.
Santana was reasonably confident, looking at their two friends now distracted by their own conversation, that neither had picked up on the drop in Quinn's tone.
"Really?" Her own voice was barely audible above the numerous conversations going on around them.
Quinn nodded slowly, her eyes not leaving Santana's. Her own gaze now mirrored Quinn's and as they stared at each other, oblivious to their surroundings, Santana allowed her foot to slide slowly across the floor underneath the table.
As it met Quinn's leg, she ran the top of her foot gently against the back of Quinn's exposed calf in a gesture which mirrored the morning after their encounter. She felt her own heart rate pick up further as she saw Quinn's eyes flutter closed in response.
Unaware, Kurt finished his drink before directing his attention back to Quinn. "So, was it the wedding? Did something happen? What made you decide to call it off?"
With her gaze still trained solely on Santana, Quinn replied slowly. "It was just…something I felt I should do."
Santana let out a shallow breath at her response and felt her eyebrows knit together. Anticipation and confusion swirled together inside her.
After arriving back at the loft, Kurt announced that he was going to meet up with Adam and would probably end up staying with him. He showed Quinn to his area of the open space, saying she was welcome to his bed for the night. Thanking him, she set down her bags and was left alone to change.
As Santana did the same she found herself fussing about, self-consciously, and checking herself the mirror with each new piece of clothing. Slapping her palm against her forehead she cursed herself, following it with a mental reminder that it was night time and all the clothes were pajamas.
"I personally think the black shorts looked better with that top."
Santana spun around to find Quinn leaning against the exposed-brick wall, a cheeky grin upon her face.
"Geez Quinn. You keep creeping up on me. How long have you been standing there?" Santana quickly gathered up the pile of discarded pyjamas from her bed and threw them on a chair in the corner.
Quinn's grin grew wider and she crossed the area, moving towards Santana slowly. "Long enough to be reminded about how much I missed those legs…and how much I enjoyed having them wrapped around me." She bit her lower lip again, a gesture which drove Santana crazy.
"Quinn," Santana gasped her name, "…what about Rachel?"
Closing the gap between them, Quinn reached out a hand and grabbed hold of Santana's black tank top, using it to pull her nearer. Lifting her other hand to Santana's cheek, she smoothed the backs of her fingers over tanned skin before running the palm of her hand over her jawline and around the side of her neck.
Santana's eyes closed of their own volition she felt her chest rise and fall heavily with the sudden change in her breathing. As Quinn pulled her closer still, she felt her breath tickle her lips as she spoke.
"Rachel's gone to bed and I'd really like to as well." Quinn ducked her head slightly and captured Santana's lips in a tender kiss which felt nothing like casual and carefree and everything like that beautiful tension Santana still didn't have the words to describe.
Wordlessly, Santana walked around to the right hand side of the bed as Quinn automatically went to the left. Turning back the covers, Santana moved into the middle and reached to pull Quinn into her. Leaning over, she placed delicate kisses to Quinn's lips, slowly continuing down her jawline and nuzzling into the woman's neck, breathing her in.
Propping herself up on an elbow she let her fingers take over, running them down Quinn's neck and across her collarbone before trailing her hand down towards an exposed hip, grazing the curve of Quinn's breast along the way.
Stroking her fingers across Quinn's hip bone, she gradually pushed her top higher, revealing more smooth pale skin. "I've missed this." Santana flattened out her hand and smoothed her palm, in a circular motion, over Quinn's firm stomach.
She lowered her head to kiss her again, their eyes meeting as they parted.
"Me too. I-ah," she paused as Santana'd fingers seemed to reach a particularly sensitive spot, " I really like this Santana. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since we left Lima," she ran her hand up and down Santana's arm as she spoke, sending goose bumps to the surface of her skin, "…every time I sent you a five, I just kept thinking about how much I wanted to make it a six."
Kissing her, Santana moved over so that she was on top of her and she toyed with strands of Quinn's blonde hair as light kisses were placed along her neck. Gravitating away from Quinn's lips, she looked into those incredible eyes again, holding Quinn's gaze as she worked up the courage to try and narrow the chasm between what they were saying and what she was feeling.
"Quinn, I – I want more than that." She resisted the urge to shift her gaze even though she felt completely exposed, fully clothed, in her own bed.
"More than a six time thing?" Quinn tried to clarify, a smile adding an extra sparkle to her eyes.
She shook her head lightly. "More of you," she ran a hand down Quinn's body slowly, again, before bringing it back up and lightly tapping a finger to the side of Quinn's head, "…I want more of this. I just need...more, I…"
Her words faded into the half-light created by the moon which shone through the poorly covered window. Quinn's brow furrowed slightly, but she looked at her with interest, waiting patiently for her to finish.
"I just... I really want to lose count with you."
As Quinn sighed deeply at her words, Santana allowed their lips to meet once more, but noticed that, this time, there was more in the kiss. There was an understanding. There was relief, in knowing that this time wouldn't be the last. Santana knew her words, still, were not the right ones, but in the moment she felt that at least they had bridged a gap.
A/N: Thanks again for sticking with me folks. I love writing these two :)