A/N: And the plot thickens…
I'm really enjoying writing this fic, it is fun to do something light for a change. :)
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee (though I wish I did). I also don't own Britney Spears, Barbara Streisand, RuPaul, Bon Jovi or the Rolling Stones.
Chapter 4: Santana's Price
As Quinn pulled up to her house with Rachel in tow, Puck drove his truck and parked in his usual spot (across the street and four houses down). He shifted the truck into park, cut the engine and turned toward Santana.
"Now tell me, what is the plan you and Berry cooked up?" He eyed her curiously, but with trepidation. The combination of those two together was lethal at best: Crack house and Mono anyone?
"Relax, Puck. We're doing our own version of good cop/bad cop. Berry's laying on the charm, whatever charm she can scrounge up that is, and I've got the tough love angle."
"What's your version of tough love Santana, shock therapy?"
Santana scoffed at that. "Ha. The dwarf said water-boarding."
Puck was uneasily silent and Santana couldn't stand the discomfort. "Look, let us focus on our part of the plan while you do your job and get me Brittany back." Santana hissed.
"I don't understand why you don't ask Rachel, she's all about grand gestures and romance."
"That's what I'm afraid of. Her idea of help will be a Gay Pride parade complete with balloon and ugly animal sweaters."
Puck nodded. "True. But she doesn't really dress that bad anymore, I mean with the animal sweaters and stuff."
"I know. If she'd just stick to the Britney Spears outfits she wore, or you remember when the girls sang that mash-up of Bon Jovi and The Rolling Stones, and she wore that skin-tight black…"
"Santana." Puck interrupted. "Your Gay is showing." He smirked.
"Fuck you!"
"Been there done that." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively with his smirk still in place.
Santana groaned loudly as she fell back into the seat, closing her eyes she replied. "This better be worth it."
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Quinn fixed a snack for her and Rachel. She was excited that the brunette would not only be spending the evening with her, but tomorrow evening as well. She hummed happily to herself as she brought the prepared snacks into the living room where Rachel was waiting.
"Thank you, Quinn, though it was entirely unnecessary."
Quinn sat down beside Rachel, who had already scattered around the items they would be using to study with. Quinn took some grapes from the plate and began eating as she browsed the items strewn around them.
Quinn chanced a glance at Rachel, who was eating as she silently scanned her notes. After eating her share of the fruit, Quinn began scanning her own notes. As she did so, she was idly playing with a pencil. She looked up and noticed that among the notes and open History books, there were color coded study sheets and homemade flash cards.
"Wow, Rachel I guess you do know how to prepare for a test."
Rachel looked up from her notes to the items that caught Quinn's attention. "Yes, I find it best to be fully prepared and these have always helped me. Plus it's kind of fun to make them, I'm really good with my hands."
The pencil Quinn was holding in her hand snapped loudly, echoing through the suddenly quiet room. Rachel reached between them, shoving her hand deep into her bag before pulling out another pencil and handing it to Quinn with a smile. Quinn watched the entire scene, and as her mouth went dry she desperately hoped that she had that same problem further south. She had no such luck however, as she was now forced to clench her legs together tightly. If Rachel had noticed Quinn's…situation, she didn't react as such.
Blue coats, grey coats, Emancipation Proclamation? How was Quinn supposed to pay attention to any of this stuff when Rachel and her…talented hands were mere inches away from her? She was determined to learn though, because the more time she spent with Rachel, the more and more she thought that History wasn't so bad. In theory anyway. In practice, History still sucked.
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Puck and Santana had been sitting outside on their stakeout for a few hours now and Santana was growing restless. "Why are we here anyway, I mean, if Streisand's inside?"
"Truthfully? I wanted to see what would happen between those two; it'd be hot wouldn't it?" Puck smirked and Santana couldn't tell whether or not the boy was kidding.
"First of all, gross. I now have to burn my retinas out and get a lobotomy."
"You said yourself that Berry wearing skintight black…"
"Ok, they'd be smokin' together. We'd probably both have our fulfillment of hot lesbian fantasies for life. However, those two? They're about as sexually charged as a rock. Hello, Chastity Club anyone? They're prudes, they could both be nuns. You know, if Berry wasn't Jewish."
"But it'd be hot."
Santana was about to speak up when red and blue lights lit up the inside of their truck. They both turned to see a cop pull up behind them. "Shit." They spoke in unison.
As the officer approached them, both teens quickly turned back around facing the front of their vehicle. The young male cop knocked on Puck's window, "Could you slowly roll down the window? I want both hands to be visible."
Puck nodded and did as he was told. "What's the problem, officer?"
The cop leaned into the window, catching sight of Santana. She smiled at him flirtatiously. "We've received several calls about your truck being spotted out here for the last three nights. It's what we like to call, 'suspicious activity.'"
"Sorry officer." Santana answered, batting her eyelashes. "It's just we aren't supposed to be seeing each other. He's got a Mohawk, and I'm Daddy's little girl. You know how it is." She responded sweetly.
"Of course. But I'm going to have to ask you to find another place to rebel against your Daddy. There are kids here, and there's still enough daylight that this is highly inappropriate."
"Yes sir, we understand." Puck replied trying to sound properly reprimanded.
"If I hear about this truck…" He paused, before eyeing Santana suspiciously. "Or any other vehicle lurking around here, I won't hesitate to cuff both of you."
And with that he was gone, Santana breathed out a sigh of relief. Puck was still rattled so decided to make a joke. "We should have asked him if would could have his handcuffs."
"No need. I have my own."
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Rachel and Quinn decided to take a much needed break from studying. They both reached their arms in the air stretching. They had been sitting on the floor studying for hours and needed to move around. Quinn stood first.
"Would you like a tour of the house?" She asked as she extended her hands to Rachel, who reached for them and was pulled up. She was now standing face to face with Quinn. They could practically share a breath, or…
Without being conscious of it, Rachel was closing the distance between their lips. Her lips brushed against Quinn's briefly before she realized what she was doing. She pulled away quickly. "Sorry."
It happened so fast that Quinn didn't even realize what Rachel had done until she apologized for it. Suddenly, her lips burned with desire. Without thought she brought her tongue across her bottom lip, desperate to taste Rachel. When she did however, it did little to quell her desire.
Rachel watched as Quinn's tongue darted out of her mouth and she slowly licked her bottom lip. Rachel bit her own lip, confusion flooding her senses. She kissed Quinn and now all she wanted to do was kiss her again. "I, I should go!"
She rushed out of the house in time to see the cop drive away from Puck's truck. Suddenly, accidentally kissing Quinn didn't seem like that big of a problem. She hurried down the sidewalk, making sure that her friends saw her and would follow.
Quinn took a few moments to recover before she realized that Rachel had been scared off. She ran out to look for her, but she was so far down the sidewalk she'd never catch up with her if the girl decided to run. She sighed in disappointment. But also, for the first time she really had hope. Rachel kissed her. Maybe she did have a chance.
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Rachel was talking before she even sat down. "What happened?"
"Apparently the two of you have been suspiciously lurking for days and I almost got busted for it." Santana replied, completely annoyed. "Please tell me that it was worth it."
Rachel kissed Quinn; it had definitely been worth it. But she wasn't so sure Santana would see it that way or Quinn for that matter. "I kissed her."
Both Santana and Rachel turned toward Puck when he slammed on the breaks at the news. Then he quickly recovered and pressed on the gas again. Santana thought she heard him mumble, "I told you so" as he continued to drive in silence.
The Latina pressed the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger, trying to control her thoughts. She took a deep breath, before exhaling slowly. She removed her hand from her face and looked directly at Rachel. "How was this part of the plan? How can I use tough love on her now?"
"Well," Rachel fidgeted uncomfortably. "I kissed her sort of and ran out. I don't know how she'll react….you could talk…to her, for me." She finished barely above a whisper.
Santana's eyebrow rose. "What? No, declaration of love through song? No balloons, flowers, or flying unicorns."
"I won't be serenading her Santana. I don't even know what this all means or why I kissed her. I just don't want to get a slushie thrown at me tomorrow, or have her go back to calling me names like 'transvestite' and 'Rupaul.'"
Santana almost felt guilty. Rachel really seemed to be bothered by the names, but it was high school. Kids were mean. And well, it happens. Which is exactly why she was terrified of coming out. "If it means anything to you, I doubt she'd revert back to HBIC Quinn. Maybe she'll wear black again or…" Santana trailed off when it hit her. Quinn was so gay for Berry. The whole argument at National's when Quinn said all she wanted was for someone to love her and that 'she' had love so why couldn't they.
A smirk crossed Santana's face as a new plan developed. She was going to get Quinn and Rachel together and out them so she wouldn't be alone when she finally got Brittany. It was a win-win (for her anyway). And she'd enlist Puck's help, because seriously how could he turn down the possibility of imagining four hot lesbians. Wait, did she just call Berry hot?
"Santana?" Rachel poked the Latina hesitantly; scared that it'd be like waking a sleeping bear but worse.
"Chill, Berry." The smirk turned into a smile. "Don't worry; I'll help you get Q. That is, if you want her."