D: 'Just wanted to tell you, you're amazing. and it's weird to find someone who do most of the stuff that I do, in internet (more like fanfiction), of all places. Now for me messing with your feelings: (this is too long for an ask in tumblr so...) I know how your otp is brittana and you still ship quinntana, (or the other way around?) - and even tho I don't know how that's possible- isn't it that there's gonna be a brittana wedding? So what I'm trying to say is, I've read this fic 'A Day Late and a Dollar Short' long time ago, which torn my heart to pieces, btw, and was like, I know it's never gonna happen, but WHAT IF, brittana happens, britt dies, quinn takes over, finally confesses that she chose Santana that night bec she has feelings for her, and Santana finally sees Quinn in a different light? (I think you should probably read that fic again, (or just the last chapter) and just cry, and leave everything else to your imagination) -A

(I'm?) Biased Fck: I was smiling when I was reading what you wrote. I was waiting for that, 'cause I was starting feel like it's all too good to be true, someone had to NOT like this. If I shipped Clarissa and Quinn, then I wouldn't have made a different ending in the first part, instead just put a sequel to 'Last Christmas' with Quinn totally moving on, telling her kid about Santa, then her kid meeting Santana (and possibly liking Santana too) - come to think of it, i was more inclined with that storyline, but that's just heartbreaking for all the quinntana fans so I did this instead.

Guest: I love you! And here are virtual cookies for defending this fic's (and possibly my) honor! You totally saw right through Britt spot on! Someone asked me how I will write Brittany's character and that's what was on my mind!

Jammy: I hope you put spaces between paragraphs(like there's a line space between them), I get lost when reading your review and I care about what you think! nevertheless, thank you again for you kind words! I've read a lot of Quinntana fics, and I've seen that stuff where it was Quinntana in that start and brittany was on vacation so she was missing out, and then she comes back again so it's like Brittana and Quinn, so Quinn feels left out. I don't think that'll be the case on this one. BUT, you did hit close to home, tho I wouldn't say what! When I was writing that down, i feel like i'm moving too fast 'cause I'm still on Chapter 3, but then I realized, my chapter one is the near whole Quinntana background, so I guess that would mean I'm on a steady pace?

To Guest(?): I don't do well with cheating because I got cheated on. So it doesn't matter if it's Quinn and Santana, I just don't like it. So rest assured Quinn won't be cheating with Santana, she may have emotionally but that's just it.

Ben: I've got a beta now so I think that part would be solved! We will be seeing more of Sophia and the gray-eyed man! I like to keep Brittany that way, I think there's more to her than you think there is. I love Rachel too. I thought her part was a bit too much but I'm glad you liked it. I'm liking that ''free-and-single' Quinn can do with this new Santana.' Mmmm.

Just wanted to post something before I drown with self-pity. Had a rough week and this is what my stress had produced.

THANKS TO MY AWESOME BETA Onceforthefun! And to Fabray-Lopez for the idea of Quinn getting a dog!

Santana's class with the new beginners is in the morning. When I first saw her, I thought she would never be a teacher. I don't think she's patient enough. She doesn't sugar-coat her negative observations, and well, she could be very philosophical sometimes (i.e. 'what you want isn't always what you need)

"I brought lunch!" I announce as I follow her through the door that leads to the pantry of the studio. I find it amusing every time I see Santana in different places aside from my house. It feels new and refreshing, though I still miss seeing her arriving by the fireplace as I wait for her on our couch.

She smiles back at me, "Cookies aren't really something I had in mind for lunch. But thank you for your kindness. It is highly-appreciated!" She waves her hand and takes a bow.

I laugh at her antics, she must have had a British student awhile back, or someone with tons of manners, people lack nowadays. "As I find your humor entertaining, I brought Thai. I hope you're okay with it." I start pulling the takeout out of the bag and start preparing it at the table while Santana goes into the bathroom to change.

When she comes back, the food is all set. I don't know if she eats these things. I mean, given she's travelling around the world, but who's to say she eats cuisines from different parts of the world? I haven't really researched on how people of different cultures celebrate Christmas.

This time, I want to get to know this Santana. And then I start from there.

"You tell me, you seem to have me all figured out."

Not really.

I just shrugged my shoulders and grab some chopsticks and Santana does the same.

We were just enjoying each other's company. She tells me how her day was and I tell her how mine was.

"Tell me about your fiancé."

I choked on my food, and Santana immediately hands me a tissue and a glass of water.

You do not ask questions like that out of nowhere.

"What?"

Santana just raises her eyebrow and looks at my ring.

My physical reminder of my love for Clary.

I don't want to talk about Clary when I'm with Santana, the same way I don't want to talk about Santana when I'm with Clary. Guilt settles in my stomach and starts its way toward my throat and it unnerves me. I know it's not cheating. It's not. I'm not kissing Santana, even though it crossed my mind once. I don't act on these thoughts 'cause I know, this thing I'm doing with Santana—secretly helping her remember, is already unfair for Clary. I just don't want to do things that may damage our relationship. But I think I'm already doing something worth worrying about.

"You stare at it a lot and you play with it. Do you miss hi—her. I mean her, you're engaged to a girl, right?"

I guess the selfish part of me wished she wasn't asking that like she's just talking about the weather, like it's one of the things you ask when making small conversation. I just wished I could feel like she's not too keen about the idea of me belonging to someone else.

I search for anything in her eyes, anything that would tell me she's not comfortable with it, and she's here to win me back. I found none.

I simply nod and manage to put on a smile for her. "Does it bother you?"

She looks at me confused by my question, I continue, "That I'm engaged to a girl?"

Might as well throw that one out there. Maybe she'll give me some sign.

She laughs softly and shakes her head, "My bestfriend Brittany is bisexual. I wouldn't mind if you're engaged to a girl, if that's what you mean."

No, that's not exactly what I mean. Why can't she have her memories with her and when she has a mission at hand? She's human for me. How can I have her when she's not exactly the same person she was before? Well, maybe she still is, I just have to wait for her to come to her senses and realize everything. But it's just not possible for me, not right now.

I want you to mind.

Because I mind that there's a possibility that Brittany wants you to herself that's why she's not helping me.

And well, there's a higher possibility that she's not helping me at all because I'm engaged.

I'm not worth everything Santana sacrificed.

What did you sacrifice for me?

(Aside from the obvious, your memories and your life as Santa) Was that all? Did everyone in Santa-land hate me?

This is more of Santana's fault really. If she had just told me that she'll figure some things out and for me to wait for her, she knows I would. No matter how long it takes, she knows I would. But no, she just had to freaking leave me with a kiss on my forehead like I'm supposed to know some hidden message from that.

Yes, Quinn. Blame everyone but yourself.

"Her name is Clarissa, well, I call her Clary, everyone does. I met her four years ago…"

Surprisingly, telling her about Clary came easy but was conflicting at the same time. Santana would've liked Clary, she probably would've approved her for me. Because Clary takes me as her everything. And I don't have to doubt anything because she shows it to me and she tells me every time she has a chance.

That's why I have to figure out these feelings soon.

I've been where Clary is - loving someone who somehow doesn't love you back the same way that you do. You're not dumb not to notice. But you love her so much you just had to be better everyday so someday, you could deserve her. I've been there. So I should know how bad it feels for one day to realize you weren't on the same page anymore.

"Are you happy?"

Santana would make a good therapist.

I look back at her, making sure I'm looking straight to her eyes, and then I nod.

"I'm glad you are."

It's been a few weeks since Santana and I reconnected. Rachel still thinks I should continue what I'm doing but somehow when I tell her about my day with Santana, she's not as cheerful and excited as she was before, last time she just looks at me like she was about to say something, but keeps her mouth shut. Clary still doesn't know about Santana, aside from the fact that she's a regular in the Café. Apparently, when she came two days ago to the shop, she saw Santana before I came out of my office. I told her she's a regular customer and Clary was just looking at Santana and Emily and said that if she didn't know any better, Santana has been coming back because of my employee. I dismissed the idea immediately. I don't think I'm ready to entertain that idea yet.

As much as I love hanging out with this Santana, I'm becoming frustrated at our current situation. So I make sure to drop hints from time to time. And as time passes by, subtlety continues to fade.

"Do you believe in Santa?"

She looks surprised by my totally random question and just stares at me with her lips turning up, "Really? That's your idea of getting to know me?"

I shrug my shoulders making it seem it was nonchalant, "What? Never been asked that question before?"

She just looks at me weird and drinks from her milk to hide her amusement. Yes, no matter how weird it is, I've just suggested she eats the cookies with milk now. "In all honesty, no. I've never been asked that question before."

My patience is wearing thin, but I decide not to let go of the topic. "Well, is that a no? You don't believe in Santa?"

She looks at me, studying me carefully, just like the way I had asked her what her name was.

Instead of grabbing another cookie, she put her hands to her lap, "I used to."

Okay, we're getting somewhere. I knew I can still get to her. "Used to?"

And now, she's looking everywhere but me. I wouldn't blame her. It is really unusual to ask if you still believe in Santa when you're in your late twenties. "I stopped believing in Santa when my dad died. Or I don't know. I guess I still believe in him, I just… it's not the same anymore."

"Why?"

"He reminds me of my dad."

Of course he does. He's the previous Santa.

Which made me think again, who is Santa now? Does Santana have a child somewhere in Santa-land? I don't think she would abandon her child to be with me.

I made a mental note to wait for Santa this year to find out, which is ridiculous but my curiosity gets the best of me.

"Oh. We don't have to talk about it." I think of how it pains Santana to think of her dad. It's still a touchy subject I think.

"Look, I don't want you to think I'm some weird grown up that still believes in Santa, okay? Your version of Santa is absolutely different from mine." She starts getting defensive and I keep myself from laughing. She's crossing her arms over her chest and she's looking at me with determination in her eyes. Probably what a child would look like if you insist Santa isn't real.

"You don't say." I say softly. If Santana had heard it, she didn't show it. "Try me."

Santana looks at me, studying me carefully, probably gauging if she should trust me with this. I hope she does. She bites her lip and then sucks in a breath, "My dad used to tell me stories about Santa, just like any other parent does." Nope. Not for me. "In his stories, he wasn't this old, white bearded fat guy who roams the world with his sled, screaming ho-ho-ho every Christmas eve. He doesn't really have a definite face to me, physical appearances doesn't really matter when your Santa I guess." I think, it's more of physical appearances don't matter to you. You were the first person outside my family to be friendly to Lucy. "He's more of… I don't know, I used to think he looks like my dad, a much cooler version of my dad maybe? And he gets to travel around the world in a split of second, meeting different people, just being free."

Oh.

Being free?

I really didn't think of it that way.

I thought being Santa is being tied to this responsibility you bear for the rest of your life. The need to have a family and the obligation to deliver all presents in all the parts of the world in a given time, and the rule to not get attached to humans, those creatures you're supposed to give temporary happiness once a year.

On a second thought, maybe I don't want to talk about Santa anymore.

Never in my life had it crossed my life that Santa will be this complicated.

"Then my dad dies, and it feel like he took Christmas with him, along with a part of me—"

"Not even the sweetest smiles of kids and Brittany's kindness can fill the hole he left behind?" I say softly before I can stop myself.

I don't dare look at her. She'd probably have this confused look again towards me wondering why I know this stuff about her. I don't think I can deal with that right now, knowing where this conversation will go. I've walked this walk, and I didn't like the hope it brought me. (Well, I did, but in reality, I'm more afraid of the consequences that comes with it)

"You've lost someone too, haven't you? Aside from this person I remind you of."

We'll talk about Grandpa, and she'll tell me it's okay to miss him.

I nod. "I did."

"Tell me about him."

I try to deflect the question. "How do you know it's a guy?"

"I guessed." Nope. You just know it deep inside.

"I don't really talk about him." I don't anymore. Not because I don't miss him, I do, I just… I'd rather refresh my memories of him with people who had shared a life with him, like Frannie. Because I know she loved him too.

Deciding on changing the subject, I get on to topics which Santana wouldn't talk about before, maybe she'll answer it now because her guards aren't up, "How did you father die?"

"He died when we was at work? Car accident." Car accident?

I know that Santana does not remember her life as Santa. But I don't think any of her memory has been altered. Well I haven't asked her yet if she had fallen for a girl, I'll save that to some other day. Baby steps indeed.

How can Santa die in a car accident if he's most likely travelling so fast it's like he was teleporting. Besides, I'm pretty sure he travels by air and not land. Isn't airplane crash closer to the alternative?

"Car accident?"

She nods. "He was saving this kid in the stree-"

Wait… kid…in Santana's world? Or in this world?

I know that Santa is a magical being. She's supernatural, or as Rachel would say, a fantasy. I've never pondered the thought of her immortality though. On our first meeting, she told me, her dad died. So that crosses off the probability of immortality, right?

More importantly, that crosses off the probability that Santana had lost her immortality for me. Because if it does, I think the weight of guilt I had in me has weighed less.

I don't think I can pry for more details about that because that would seem suspicious. It's not like I can ask, 'was your dad riding something or did he just got hit by a car?' or 'is your dad in a delivery business?' Yeah, no. I'll just think of other way to explore that topic as we go on.

"How did your grandfather die?" She cautiously asked, but I guess we're passed that line now.

"Alzheimer's." It's painful but I smile at the thought. "And the crazy thing is he keeps forgetting stuff, slowly as time passes by, but he still remembers me, or the previous me, Lucy—wait, what?"

Did she just…?

"What?" She's also confused by the interruption because she seems to be really interested to what I have to say.

"I never told you."

She looks at me as if I was stating the obvious. "That's why I'm asking."

I shake my head fervently, "No, I never told you it's my grandfather."

She shrugs, "I guessed."

You didn't. I just know that it's all slowly coming back.

Now I'm smiling, "It could've been my brother."

She rolls her eyes at me, almost irritated at how I'm making a deal out of this. The more I push all these connections in my head, the more annoyed she gets. I think of how this all about helping her so I just take it. "It's not a big deal, Quinn. I guessed, and I got it right."

It's so much more than that.

I guess I like where this conversation had lead us.

"She's slowly remembering, Rachel!" I went directly to my bestfriend after my day with Santana.

I'm pacing back and forth in front of her while I tell her excitedly about Santana's current progress.

"No Quinn. You are remembering, she's not."

She had this look in her face and I don't like it. I stopped in front of her and I glare down at her. "Why are you so against this?" I'm tired of this hot and cold treatment from her. I don't need any more of these mixed signals, I'm already getting enough from Santana.

She puts down her iPad, and matches my gaze on her. "Quinn, you have to understand that even if it seems all familiar to you, this is new to her. I could've guessed it was your grandfather too!" She exasperates.

I cross my arms, and stubbornly say, "I do believe there's no such thing as coincidence!"

Now, she stands up, completely letting go of her iPad. "You can't keep on overanalyzing things!" she cried. She now has that look when I completely ignore what she had said something big about her life because I'm not paying attention.

"This was your idea, Rachel! What happens to you supporting me every step of the way?" I try to avoid taking full blame so I went with that.

Though it would seem I've just put gasoline to the fire because now she's flaring up. Is Rachel pregnant? That is the only logical reason for her mood swings, I jump at her uproaring tone, "Because part of that plan is you telling Clary about Santana! You're more excited about Santana's so-called progress to her subtle-memory-recovery, than you planning your own wedding! Quinn, I've just told you I booked your favorite band! And I had pulled a lot of strings for that, put off so much effort, and all you've been going about is how Santana guessed you had lost your grandfather -which, on a positive side, is great, because it is the only time you talk about your grandfather without looking like a kicked lost puppy!"

I was stunned after Rachel had finished her burst. This is why she is my bestfriend, because she could talk some sense to me.

And most of time, I don't like the effect it leaves me.

I take a seat next to her in the couch and look at her dejectedly, "I just don't know how to tell Clary without making her worry."

She laughs without humor and I would've glared at her again if I wasn't feeling so down. "Let's not kid ourselves. Even I know that there is something to worry about."

I shake my head hoping it is enough to shut Rachel up. "Do you still want to marry Clary?"

I look back at my ring and play with it one more time. I nod my head weakly.

I love Clary. I do.

I bite back the tears that are threatening to drop. How is thinking about marriage causing me this much pain?

She seems to get my message and just runs her hand down my back soothing me. "Quinn… I know, that Santana not remembering anything hurts you, and you think how this is all unfair for you because after everything you've been through, it's like you're back to square one… into chasing after her. Is that why you wanted to inflict the same pain to her?"

I pulled immediately like I've been burnt. I keep a distance from Rachel and look at her aghast, "What are you talking about?"

He expression softened, "Do you want her to remember, so that she'll know what she had lost when you tell her you're marrying Clary?"

"That's not what I want!"

"Then what do you want? You can't string these two people around—"

"I wasn't stringing them—"

"You know what you should do. You should tell Clary, who is giving you everything to make you happy—"

"I know. God, I know. That's why I want to marry her, okay? That's why I love her. Because she will never do this to me! She would never hurt me."

"She doesn't have to. You're already doing it yourself."

At that, my tears start flowing.

Maybe it wasn't Santana who was hurting me all this time.

Frannie used to tell me that she had always thought I was beautiful, even when I was Lucy. I was just not seeing it, so others didn't see it too. And I keep looking for love, so I don't notice the people who already love me.

Maybe the problem is me.

"You once said you wanted to deserve her, Quinn. Then do this. Tell her. Tell her, that this person you probably have loved the most is back in your life again. She doesn't remember anything, and you wanted to help-"

I stand up again, shutting her off and I start to pace. "She wouldn't understand it without telling her everything!" It helps me think when I'm moving.

"Then tell her everything! From where it all began!" And Rachel's words are not helping at all. Maybe I'd rather have Brittany's friendship. She would probably tell me to stay away from Santana and focus on Clary—which is what she's doing even when we're not friends. Huh, you look at that. If only I had listened to Brittany, then I would avoid all of this drama.

I snap at her, "Really, Rachel? Yeah, because 'Santa is real' is totally believable—"

"Clary is so in love with you, she'll believe anything you tell her. She would understand. So then she'll have a fighting chance with you. You talk about a fair game, about how this is all unfair to you. How do you think this is all fair to Clary? And when exactly are you planning to tell her about Santana?"

"She told me, she doesn't want to know about my ex!"

Rachel rolls her eyes looking at me with disbelief, I quickly added, "She told me my past is my business, and our future is her privilege—"

"Yeah, that's great, noble even! But that's exactly the point: Santana will be part of your future from now on, except if you completely cut her out of your life! Eventually you have to tell Clary about Santana, and when will that be? When you invite Santana to the wedding when Clary had never heard of her? Or when you break up the engagement, knowing your cowardice, a day before or God forbid, on the day of your wedding?"

That's not fair. So much for Rachel putting a trust that I could handle this situation. If she doesn't trust me, then how could I trust myself?

I feel Rachel tug me down so that I could sit with her. She hugs me tightly and put strands of my hair behind my ear as I cry harder.

I can't help but ask, "Are you pregnant?"

She pulls away, looking at me perplexed.

I just shrug. "You were really intense, back there."

And in a snap, she just smiles brightly, "Thomas and I had been talking about finally talking that step, and I told him to wait a little while until this season ends. My character had developed—"

Okay. So an acting training.

No wonder she was going full force on me.

I roll my eyes at how spirited she is at telling me the plot twist their writers had in mind with her character stopping her bestfriend's wedding. And she was so happy to take it even if it was out of character because she knows she could pull off some 'great acting' because of my current predicament.

Should I be offended that she's using my dilemma to her advantage even when it's causing me so much hardship?

"And Quinn?"

I wipe my tears to look at her because my vision had become blurry, I sniffed, "Yeah?"

"I'm always here supporting you every step of the way. I mean that. Whether it's towards Clary or Santana." She looks sincere, and I believe her. Acting aside, I know she's true to her words.

"This is confusing to you, but always ask yourself. What do you want?"

What do I want?

I just want someone to love me.

And now I have two of them.

Really, be careful what you wish for.

I was visiting Rachel at set because she was celebrating her birthday after so I decided to pick her up.

Of course I know that I'll be meeting Brittany here, so before I reached this place, I've prepared myself for possible confrontations.

"That's a wrap, everyone!" Brittany yells up at set once the music stopped. Everyone claps their hands and I see Brittany tap one of Rachel's co-workers and tell her how great he was at the scene. I smile at how different she looks right now. She almost looked like the first time I see her. Happy and carefree.

When everyone had spread out, Rachel told me she'll just get her things so that we could go. I make beeline towards Brittany and hope that I'll get to her this time.

"Brittany, you were great back there!"

A compliment doesn't hurt anyone.

She just nods in acknowledgement and say something about how she wouldn't take all the credit and that everyone has worked hard for it.

Wow, how diplomatic.

I shake my head at my own bitterness. How can I be nice to her when I'm being sarcastic. She's trying. Or at least I hope she was.

I decide to follow her to wherever she was going and decide to just go straight to the point, "I think she's slowly remembering."

She just shakes her head gently and now she's giving me a sympathetic look, "Quinn, don't get your hopes up, she's not."

I protest and insist, "She is! She doesn't notice it but she does—"

She turns her body to face me, and she put her hand on her hip, now looking at me harshly, like she had taught me something, and I just don't get it. "Quinn, your body is programmed to act a certain way when faced with something. To her, she's experiencing something new and so she acts accordingly. You think it's déjà vu, but it's the first time she's experiencing it." She turns around and starts packing her thing. "Just think of it as the same Santana, minus all the Santa-related memories. And that includes you."

I narrow my eyes at how she said it. I don't know Santana without the Santa package. I take a step towards her and pull off the high school version of me. "Why do you hate me so much?"

Instead of meeting me in the middle and taking a step forward, she just continue what she was doing as if she's not affected at all, "I think we've already established why."

This is not how I've imagined this would go, instead of backing down, I've went forward, "Are you in love with her?"

Brittany, in return, just laughs at me, and I hate how I don't have the desired effect I used to have. Maybe the high school Quinn has long been gone. She fires back, "Are you still in love with her?"

I stay silent. I don't want to give her the satisfaction by answering. All I could do is just glare at her and hope that she'll get burned or something.

Brittany had finished packing and so she put her duffel bag on her shoulder and adjusted the strap. She looks at me—or my engagement ring rather, and then back at me. Her expression changed, though I don't know what that means. "You know what makes Santa different than other guardians?"

I look at her confused at the change of subject, I shake my head.

"Santa doesn't just grant wishes like genies. We don't need to ask what humans need… We just know. Because humans are weak. You know what you want, but you deny what you need."

She starts walking, but she stops when she's on my side. She whispers, "You want Clary's security, you want Santana's love. Humans are greedy."

I think I'm frozen to my spot because I want to face Brittany, but I can't, I muster up courage to talk back at her. "Is that why you don't like me for Santana? Because I'm human?" I manage to keep my voice for shaking. Is this what those people I intimated felt when I was talking to them?

"Humans want a lot of things. So what do we give them on Christmas?" It would appear that she had ignored my question. She's circling me now, and I don't know what I should do. I just follow her with my eyes.

"Humans, like your parents, sister, and your dearest grandfather, gave you what you want. On the other hand, like I've told you, Santana as Santa, can see if you're pure at heart, if you're worthy, and when you are, we make a way to give you what you need. That's how we operate."

She stops when she's behind me, I could feel her breath on my neck that gives me shiver down my spine. "I know what you need, and I am telling you, you are not worthy."

Before I could spun around, and ask her how do I make myself worthy, moreover, what is it that I need because I'm honestly lost right now, she's already gone and Rachel is looking at me worried, "Quinn, did you follow Brittany here?"

She walks towards me and she drags me away from the dressing room. Brittany managed to shake my ground, and leave me speechless. "I would really appreciate it if you don't scare her away." I scoff at that, yeah sure, I am scaring her away. "She's one of the best dancers we have and contrary to what you believe, she's really nice to everyone. She's patient to those who are not as gifted as me when it comes to dancing and she's—"

I block off the rest of Rachel's praises. Would it really be hard to take my side on this one?

I met Clary when I was walking my dog at the park four years ago. And I got a dog when I was coping with my heartbreak over Santana. So in my mind, that was Santana sending Clary to me to heal my broken heart.

Instead of getting a haircut, or having one-night stands, I've decided back then to project my affections towards something that will love me back unconditionally, be loyal to me, be there when I call, and well… loves to cuddle. So I got a dog; it seemed to be a logical solution back then.

On the Wednesdays and Saturdays, I take my dog on walks in Central Park. Sometimes, I jog with him in the mornings when I feel up to it.

So now, I feel like incorporating this new me to the new Santana. So I had invited her for a walk this Saturday afternoon.

At first, she's a little surprised. She said she was expecting me to bring Rachel with me because I told her I was bringing someone; she even thought I'd introduce her to my fiancé. (I don't really think that'll be happening soon). And then she was unsure how to approach my dog.

I always assumed Santana was good with animals. She has 9 reindeers after all. Or was that me being stereotypical?

I teased her and told her how my dog would probably be more afraid of Santana biting him, than the other way around.

Cookie is my very own Dalmatian.

It's not that I'm a baker so I named him after a pastry.

He just looks like a cookie. An Oreo cookie. I giggle at the thought

When Rachel and I came looking for a dog, I didn't know what to find. We started looking at the pound and no one just seemed to touch my heart. I was ready to give up when Rachel insisted that I continue with this hunt even if I have to go to a pet store and buy a fresh new puppy instead of taking care an abandoned one (who she insisted was just like me). It was my first commitment to moving on and she will be damned if I give up on it.

So I did, and my eyes landed on it and I just knew right away I wanted it.

I think Dalmatians suit me more than any other dogs would.

Dalmatians are elegant, friendly, and can keep up with me on my runs. They start along as pure white, then as they grow, spots starts to show on them. And spots don't make them dirty, it's what got them popular in the first place. Just like me. I'm pure at heart, and then as I grow up, I get all these stuff with me that turns to flaw. And then it's what makes me stronger.

Well that's one reason I've been telling others why I got a Dal.

A bigger part of me just wanted to have a Dalmatian since I was a kid. I grew up with 101 Dalmatians, then there was 102.

So when I found one, I knew I just had to get one.

Santana just rolls her eyes at me and then starts petting my dog. They seem to get along just fine, and then we continued our stroll in the park.

We sat on the grass as Cookie continues to play around us. People look at us and there was a kid who wanted to put him and I let her. She's cute. And Cookie is just wagging his tail waiting to be petted. I notice Santana keeps giving Cookie the look I've been giving her when she wasn't looking. It's like Cookie had hurt her, and she wouldn't blame him because she knows it's not his fault.

"Just say it. This tension between you and Cookie is so strong, the physicists should study it." I try to joke around but she didn't laugh.

She bites her lip, and forms a thin line, and then she looks at me… was that hurt in her eyes? " I can't believe you named your dog 'Cookie'!"

I raised my eyebrow at this, already getting curious as to where this conversation is going. I called for Cookie, and I tap my hand to my lap, and he goes snuggling to me.

"What's wrong with it? You don't like it?" I continue to play with Cookie's ears while petting him. I can feel Santana's eyes on me but I don't look back at her.

"Uhh, I don't know? How about the fact that you just named your dog aftera food for the gods?"

The way she speaks of dog got my attention. Also, I find it amusing how this Santana is enamored with my cookies. I think she noticed me trying to stop myself from laughing so she started moving closer to me and my dog. Her glare doesn't have its usual effect when we're talking about this kind of stuff. "You do know that 'Foods for the Gods' is a different pastry from what you usually—"

She rolls her eyes at me impatiently, "I know! That was just me saying those cookies are sheer heaven in a cookie bar! And—" My heart always skips a beat every time she praises my cookies. Is it possible to be jealous of her love for my works? She was never this vocal of her feelings when we were together. "—and for you to just name it to a dog? That's just—"

I quickly cover Cookie's ears and glare at her, "Yeah, how about you stop talking before you say things you'd regret! I'll let you know Cookie isn't just a dog!" I copy the way she said that word as if it is degrading. "He has been my Certified Emotional Companion ever since—" I stop myself before I say things I'd regret.

"Your what now?" She has no second thoughts at laughing at me, so she does, how rude. "Why do humans always get attached so easily to material things?" She looks at me then back to Cookie. "And well, in this case, pets?"

I open my mouth to respond to defend my honor, (more of Cookie's), but it just hit me. That is something the old Santana would say. How she questions most of the things human does that makes me wonder what kind of people (or beings?) Santana associates herself with in her world. Before I could stop myself, the words just comes out, "You've just implied that you're not human." That got her stunned. "That, or that was you saying you get attached easily too."

I know the latter was more of this new Santana's line, but I'm hoping she had meant it the way the old Santana would.

Is it wrong to wish that she'd remember? Is that what I need? To know what she'll tell me if she remembers? To hear her explanation why she's human and what she had sacrificed to be with me? Is that really why she's here?

Her eyes widen, and her composure changed. It would seem she didn't notice that she had said that out loud and then she started getting lost.

I feel guilty for pressuring her to remember. I wanted to reach for her. She tries to find it in herself, to make sense how I know these things about her, because she knows it's not all pure coincidence that I get everything right. She gets confused every time I do this, and then she gets lost to where I cannot reach her. Just like always, she goes to a place where I cannot follow.

She gives me a sad smile; still she looks lost in thought. "I honestly don't know what I meant by that."

How I wished she had lied and admit the latter instead.

I wasn't ready to end my day with Santana yet because I had set my mind that after dealing with Santana, I would finally have a nice long chat with Clary. And I am not yet prepared for that so I insisted on coming with her to her apartment.

She lights up to the idea and she told me she was waiting for the chance for me to meet Brittany, and this was the perfect time.

I feel my stomach churn at the thought. I didn't have the heart to tell her I've changed my mind, seeing as how excited she is. It would've been obvious that I don't want to see Brittany, so I've just let her have her way. After we drop off Cookie at Rachel's place, where Thomas is happy to receive him, we go and head towards her apartment.

I feel my heart beat faster as we reach her apartment.

Brittany was there in the living room waiting for her while watching TV. Does Santa-land have TV? I mentally slapped myself. That is completely irrelevant.

Santana starts introducing us and Brittany just smiles and offers her hand telling me that Santana had told her so much about me. I keep myself from rolling my eyes as I realize how she's playing this. I knew this was a bad idea. I'm just not ready to have Brittany and Santana in the same room.

There was a knock at the door, and my panic grows bigger. I imagine the worst, thinking to some incredible coincidence worked by fate that Clary somehow just had to be here so the four of us could be in this one room.

Brittany notices my uneasiness and just smirks at me as Santana goes and answers the door. How she's having a great time with this is infuriating me. I clench my hand to fist and wait for Santana.

Santana comes back with the food delivery and asked Brittany for the payment.

Brittany chuckles softly like she's been reading my mind and heads towards the door. I should've asked if she has the ability to not only know our heart's desire, but also read minds. I make a mental note to ask her later, if she'll be friendly enough to shed some light to my wondering mind.

Santana asks me to wait by the living room as she and Brittany set the table up. I offer to help but she refuses saying I am her guest and she'd like to play a good host.

I comply with her, because I think I need a moment to calm my erratic heart.

Every time I plan something with these two people, it ends up ending the opposite way I had imagined it to be. I try to calm my nerve by breathing in and out, but it's not helping. I wonder how I'll face the both of them with this internal mess.

To my surprise, though, dinner went smoothly. Brittany mentioned that she and I had met before on Rachel's set and from there we try to find some common ground. Santana looked ecstatic to see that Brittany and I are getting along. Except we're not. We are far from that. I keep my guard up though, just in case Brittany does something.

I should've taken notes from Frannie on how to deal with these kinds of enemies. (Yes, I've considered Brittany as an enemy in the form of an assassin. Silent but deadly.)

Santana asks me to stay for a little while and watch some reruns with her and Brittany. I've always thought that Santana and Brittany are just like me and Rachel. But now, given the situation, I think the two comparisons are not accurate.

I keep up a façade for Santana and remember that I am in Brittany's territory and I have to play by her rules.

Santana gets a call from Sophia's father, which is weird. How close is Santana and her student's father, exactly? She leaves for some privacy and I almost cry for help and say, 'don't leave me with her!' Thankfully, I saved myself from humiliation. Brittany offers me some popcorn like we're suddenly bestfriends and smiles brightly at me. "Are you having fun, Quinn?" it would've sounded friendly if I didn't know she's mocking me. "I know you wouldn't mind 'Imagine Me & You'. Santana hasn't seen it yet, so I hope you don't spoil her with anything."

Imagine Me & You. Tsk. Of course I know that. Every lesbian probably knows that.

How appropriate.

What? She thinks I'm gonna marry Clary when Santana remembers and then Santana will be Luce and I'll be Rachel? Yeah, way to cause some drama. Or maybe that was her saying Santana and I will still get together at the end even with everything that's happening to us… Nah. I think that was her reminding me that I'm still engaged to Clary, and that I shouldn't reach that point where it is in the movies.

Brittany is definitely a mystery to me.

"What do I need Brittany?" I ask her pleadingly.

She just looks at me, her expression not changing, "You tell me."

"I'm human! And humans tend to deny what we need! So please tell me."

There's a spark in her eyes that tells me I'm bordering in a dangerous territory now, "Stop asking me all these questions! I've told you things ever since we've met in the freaking bathroom! You're just blinded by your pathetic jealousy to see the bigger picture—"

"Then tell me, are you not in love with her? Admit it and I will drop it."

She glares at me and she had put the bowl of popcorn away, "That's the thing about humans. We can talk about this all you want, because no matter how many times I tell you the same things all over again, you'll just deflect it until you hear what you want. What you want is not—"

"What I need. I get it. I'm engaged, I'm not denying that. This is all confusing to me. And okay, maybe I don't deserve her, but you cannot blame me for things I cannot control. You have to understand. Santana told me to stop waiting for her. It was hard for me, trust me it was, but I did it. For her… for me. And then five years later, she comes back and just what? Expects me to drop everything so I could welcome her back with open arms?"

I was on edge. And I wonder if Santana is hearing all this. I hope she does. So she knows her dearest bestfriend is hiding something big from her.

Brittany takes a calming breath while closing her eyes, probably counting to ten before speaking up. Hey I used to do that too! "She will not remember, Quinn. That's just how it's supposed to be. I didn't make the rules, because if I did…" She laughs humorlessly, "I wouldn't have—" She stops herself. Taking a breath, she continues, "So this Santana? Take it or leave it."

She wouldn't offer me explanations. Is that against the rules? What rules?

Maybe she's right. I won't stop until I hear what I want. I won't stop until I get what I want.

And I refuse to believe that Santana won't remember. Because she is remembering. No one believes me because they don't understand what we had.

We both fix ourselves and face the television. Santana comes back later with her phone at hand apologizing for the interruption, "Sorry, Sophia is celebrating her birthday in three days and Mark has been nagging me about it."

Brittany and I nod in response and at the same time tap the space between us. She looks at us weird and just plops down between us. She looks back and forth to me and Brittany and when we don't say anything, Brittany grabs the remote and hits 'play'.

Talking to Santana would have to wait.

In the middle of the night, I find it impossible to sleep. My hand reaches for my phone and I dial Rachel's number, "Rachel?"

Her voice is groggy, "Quinn, what time is it?"

"I… I don't know. I'm sorry, I've—" Crap. Rachel had this rule about having beauty sleep when she has early on-call time at work.

"What is it, Quinn?" she sighs, and I can picture her rubbing the sleep off her eyes.

"You asked me what I want."

"What?"

"You asked me what I want."

I wait for her to recall our conversation two days ago, "Yes, I did."

"I want someone to love me."

"You have that—"

"What I want isn't what I need."

"Okay..? Quinn, I don't think I can decipher your philosophical messages at…" I hear ruffling and Thomas asking Rachel what is going and Rachel telling her that I'm on the line. "2:16 in the morning. So can we get to the point and tell me what you need? 'Cause I need some sleep." I hear her yawn to make a point.

"I need to be happy, Rachel."

There was pause and Rachel is probably waiting for me to continue, or she had fallen asleep.

"I just don't think I know how to anymore."

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