Author's Note: Faberry is on it's way. But it progresses slowly and I'm in the middle of writing something around 5+ other fan fictions so bare with me.

Disclaimer: I do not own glee or anything involving them. Aside from the story below.

Quinn shoved her phone into her pocket, looking around the parking lot to see if she could find Santana's car. That is, until she realized that the brunette had threatened to leave about 30 minutes ago. She could feel her phone vibrate and decided to ignore it; making her way out of the lot and to her house.

But who ever was calling was definitely being frustratingly persistent. Quinn pulled her phone out, "What do you want, Santana?"

"Are you still sulking around at the station over Gayberry?"

Quinn rolled her eyes, "No I'm walking home because someone decided to be an asshole and just leave me behind."

"You know what? Fuck you, I wasn't going to wait around another half an hour for your ass to be done making yourself miserable. Do you want me to give you a ride or not?" Santana asked; knowing perfectly well that Quinn would more than likely say no.

"How about not."

"That's what I thought. I'll be over to pick you up in a few minutes. Which means you should stop walking, fucking dumb ass."

Santana was an entirely new level of frustrating, but she always seemed to be around when she needed her the most, no matter what she was doing perviously. Well, not really no matter what. But for the most part, Santana would stop just about anything.

There was a nagging feeling in the pit of Quinn's stomach telling her that Santana was actually going to take longer than she'd said. But that's just Santana, and there wasn't even the need for assumptions. Her delay was inevitable. Quinn sunk her hand back into her pocket, plucking out her phone once again and dialing Rachel's number.

The monotonous beeping sound of the phone seemed to drag on forever. The call finally went through and Rachel's voice came through clearly, almost worried in a way. "Quinn?"

"Ra-Rachel, hey. I…thought I'd check up on you. You know, make sure you're okay and all. Not that I need to check up on you for any reason. I just…figured I should ask how your train ride was going. I worry. Sorry." Nervousness like this didn't happen often, let alone to Quinn Fabray during a phone call.

"Quinn you're rambling and I told you to call, so don't apologize." Rachel cracked a smile at the thought of Quinn being flustered. "Way to pull a typical Rachel Berry rant, Fabray."

Any tension that had been previously present was out the window at the sound of Rachel's voice. "Guess you could say I learned from the best."

"It's a curse," Rachel retorted.

"More like a gift."

'Why do you do that?' she wondered silently; trying to pay close attention to everything Quinn was saying. "Right because rambling is so attractive."

Quinn stared at the end of her shirt, sub-consciously pulling at a loose string. "It's attractive in certain cases." An awkward pause stretched on for a few seconds, "So, when does your train get to New York?"

"Well considering I just left Lima a little over half an hour ago, I still have a ways to go. Why do you ask? Are you considering come in a little early?"

The brunette was relentless, "Rach, I can't just pack up everything now and hop on a train to New York."

Rachel interrupted Quinn immediately, "Well why not?"

"Because. I don't have a place to stay once I get out there…and I don't plan on taking up the ridiculous offer that you're probably about to make. I'm sure your dads would love spending some time with you without me around."

Quinn could hear Hiram's voice in the distance, "Rachel honey, are you talking to Finn." The blonde frowned at the mentioning of his name.

Rachel's face fell aswell, "No Daddy, it's Quinn."

There was no one that that man approved of more than Quinn, and it came as a relief to know that his daughter wasn't hung up on the giant neanderthal his baby girl called a boyfriend. "Good. I like Quinn better anyway," he quipped before taking his seat behind his daughter.

Leroy gave him a sudden slap on the back of the head, earning a confused look from his husband, "Don't look at me like that. You know what you did."

"Sorry about that," Rachel whispered.

"Don't worry about it. I'm relieved that your dads like me better than the bumbling man-baby." Santana's car pulled into the lot, "I've got to go, Satan is unfortunately my only ride home. Catch you later, Rach. Call me when you get to New York, and I expect a Skype call tonight." Quinn pulled herself off the curb and sauntered over to Santana's car.

"Definitely. I'll call you when I get there." The distasteful silence that came through the phone told her that Quinn had already long since hung up the phone.

Santana raised a well manicured eyebrow, "Well? Are you gonna get your ass in the damn car or what?"

Quinn pulled the car door open and slipped in quickly, "I told you you didn't have to pick me up."

"Doesn't matter, Brittany said I wasn't getting any if I didn't promise to pick you up. It was in my best interest."

A disgruntled sigh filled the small car, "Just take me home. The last thing I need today is you telling me about you sexpeditions with Britt."

"Oh you mean you don't wanna hear about how I make Brittany scream my name when I-"

"Fuuuuck you, Santana!" Quinn yelled, shoving her hand onto Santana's mouth. Squealing when the Latina's tongue darted out only to lick Quinn's hand, eliciting the exact reaction she was hoping for. Quinn pulled her hand away from her mouth, "The hell?!"

"Next time you'll think twice before shoving your hand anywhere near my mouth." Santana shifted around in her seat, eyes trained on the road ahead, looking away momentarily to catch Quinn gazing out the window longingly. "You know, looking out the window and mentally playing the saddest song you know isn't going to bring the midget back."

Quinn just shrugged, "I know that. But pretending like i'm in this big sad movie makes everything a little better."

"I don't fucking see how that would make anything better."

"Because," Quinn's eyes went back to the clouds, "Everything ends like a perfect fairy tale in a movie."

Santana looked slightly disgusted, "Who are you and what the hell have you done to my rational best friend? You out of all people should know that life isn't a damn fairy tale. There's no 'outside force' making shit happen. If you want Rachel's berries you're going to have to sing that sappy song that's on repeat in your head and get your girl. If you leave everything to the universe, all you should be expecting is more shit being thrown you way."

"Who the hell are you and what have you done with my insensitive best friend?"

Santana scoffed, "Being insensitive is Finnocent's job," she shrugged her shoulders, "I'm just a bitch."

"Right."

"You bet your ass I'm right."

Quinn rolled her eyes, "No…RIGHT!"

"Oh right, fuck, sorry. I was reveling in my Dr. Phil moment," Santana admitted.

They pulled into Quinn's driveway, enveloped in silence. Until Quinn's voice sliced through it like a well sharpened knife, "Santana?" And not before long, she had the brunette's attention. "Thanks. You've always been there, especially when I didn't want you to be. There aren't a lot of people that I can honestly say that about. I just wanted to say thank you." Quinn threw herself into Santana, wrapping her up in an intense hug. "And thanks for the ride."

She wasn't exactly sure where all of that had come from, but the huge smile on Santana's face said that she was glad she did something right, something besides Brittany, "Don't mention it." Quinn slammed the car door close, "Seriously! Don't mention it! I don't need anyone thinking I'm going mushy! DO YOU HEAR ME FABRAY?!"

"Love you, Satan!"

Santana shifted her car into reverse and pulled out of Quinn's driveway, "Yeah yeah." Sometimes Quinn drove her completely insane, but she knew perfectly well that she did the same. They were the perfect fire and ice, one of those things that nothing could justify, it just worked. "Love you too, Q," she whispered; speeding off back to Brittany's house.